By Louis L'Amour
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Additional resources for The Lonely Men: The Sackett Series, Book 14
Now here was Tell Sackett, the older brother, the one she had never met. It was unlikely that he knew of her difficulties with Orrin. The Sacketts wrote few letters, and from what she remembered Orrin had not seen his brother in years. Of course, he might have seen him since she left; but there was a chance, and she resolved to take it. The means was supplied to her also by way of a conversation overheard. She had heard many such conversations without thinking of how they might be used. The men were talking of the Apaches, of some children stolen by them, perhaps killed.
I mean he was a fine man, but you couldn’t push him. He just hadn’t any give in him at all. If you come to Tyrel a-hunting after trouble he had plenty to offer. Me, I wasn’t much of a talker, and no kind of a trouble-hunter. Folks had to bring it to me hard, but when they did that I just naturally reacted. I’d roped and hogtied many a wild longhorn out on the plains of Texas, and I’d busted some mustangs in my time, and quite a few hard-to-get-along-with men, too. When it came to shooting, well, me and Tyrel could never figure which was best.
Bravery, fortitude, endurance, and the skills of the hunter and the hunted—these were important to him, these he understood. TUCSON LAY STILL under a hot noonday sun when we dusted our hocks down the main drag, eyes open for a saloon or an eating house where there’d be shade, something to wet our whistles, and the trail gossip we were eager to hear. We rode into town with care, for we were all men with enemies. We rode with our guns loose in the holsters, ready to run or fight, as the case might be; but the street was empty, heavy with heat.
The Lonely Men: The Sackett Series, Book 14 by Louis L'Amour