Skye Fargo is in California at the behest of Hiram Stoddard, a powerful man who wants to establish the first stagecoach line along the Old Mission Trail-and he's not the only one. But when Fargo sees how ruthless his would-be employer really is, he quits on the quick and sides with the competitio...
13 million Trailsman books in print! It's a milestone on the Trailsman's trail. In his 300th adventure, Skye Fargo is headed east, where he's been hired by a group of Illinois citizens to stop the murderous "Sagamon River Monster." For years, entire families have been slaughtered without mercy, a...
The Trailsman has to cut down the likes of Red Mike McShane before the villain's gang destroys a logging company.
Space your shots out! Fargo felt himself bumping roughly along the ground as he fought to swim up from the murky depths of unconsciousness. Guns were barking close to his ears, and shots filled the air. Christ, here they come! Make every bullet score, Nate! Fargo’s eyes snapped open, and he smell...
the gruff voice demanded. Fargo squinted against the glare. At least three lanterns were blazing, maybe a fourth. He knew that if he so much as twitched wrong, the rifles pointed at him would blast him to ribbons. “Hold your fire,” he said, and with great reluctance, he se...
He rode with the robe hiked halfway up, revealing his knee-high moccasins. The afternoon sun was blistering, the air was an oven. Fargo should be used to it but he sweated profusely and his throat became so dry, he resisted an urge to use the waterskin the colonel had prov...
The imposing Wind River Range of the Rockies saw-toothed the sky behind them, and smaller ranges encircled them. Much of the basin was a broad expanse of sage and greasewood bushes—and a bushwhacker’s paradise. In places the sagebrush was tall enough to conceal a standing man. Years of scouting d...
Just before sunset they retrieved their horses and Fargo selected a campsite almost within hailing distance of the town, a little hollow ringed with boulders and with plenty of grass for the horses to graze. He rode back to the sheriff’s office to leave word where he’d be ...
A stranger might smile and be sociable, and the moment Fargo turned his back, plunge a knife into it and steal his poke. A painted warrior bristling with weapons might appear ready to slay any white he came across, yet turn out to be from a friendly tribe. Yet knowing that, Fargo still found the ...
Scorch of sunlight. Stab of back pain. Fargo woke, disoriented. A stretch of flawless blue sky above him. A snoring Aaron Tillman lying about two feet away from him. Then he remembered everything. He lay on the deck of a large, yacht-like boat. They’d been transferred from the wagon some time ago...
The air was a foul-smelling mix of human waste, trash, swamp, and too many people crammed too close together. In short, it was like most of the bigger cities Fargo had ever been in—no place he’d want to stay for any length of time, and why anyone else would was a mystery to him. The trip down the...
He was tired of having guns pointed at him, but he wasn’t about to move a muscle with the business end of a hand cannon trained on his face. “What the hell is going on out here, daughter?” Horatio Stoddard demanded. He, too, wore a robe, only his was bulky and ill-fitting....
Fargo?” the major’s daughter asked.Skye Fargo ran his lake blue eyes across the girl’s willowy frame, the proud breasts pushing up from the shirtwaist of her traveling dress—pale and lightly freckled and sheathing a small jade cameo, the same green of her eyes, hanging by a gold chain. Her shirtw...
The door had a window in it head-high for people to see in or out as they went through. The train was starting to pull in as the marshal arrived, spreading out his men along the platform. There were enough other people on the platform that the marshal’s men blended in pretty well. Fargo stepped b...
He ate sparingly. They were running out of food. There wasn’t much of the flour left, and Mary was reluctant to kill another chicken. He made up for the lack with half a pot of coffee. The three of them came out to see him off. The cold had abated somewhat, thanks to warmer wind from the south. F...
Drawing rein, he shifted in the saddle and scanned his back trail. His lake blue eyes narrowed. A big man, broad of shoulder and narrow of waist, he wore buckskins and a white hat caked with the dust of many miles. A red bandanna added a splash of color. A Colt with well-worn grips was in his hol...
There was no way in hell he could stop Geraldine from going after her husband’s killers short of hitting her over the head and hog-tying her, and even then, once she freed herself she’d be right back at it. The smart thing, he reckoned, was to keep her close so he could ke...
He needed to ride into El Paso to replenish his ammo and food supplies, but first he wanted to see Carrie Stanton—“reborn” as Peace Child—and satisfy his curiosity on a few points. And given the curvaceous beauty’s seductive flirtation with him the day before, he hoped to satisfy another pressing...
Or so Skye Fargo thought as he scanned the prairie for the girl. She would be easy to spot if it weren’t for the fact there was so much prairie. A sea of grass stretched from Canada to Mexico, broken here and there by rivers and mountain ranges. North of him, not yet in sight, were the Black Hill...
Fargo could tell by the cylinder notches and the trigger guard. A .44-caliber, it packed a considerable wallop. “It wasn’t me,” Fargo said. “If I wanted you dead, I’d have finished you off instead of riding up to see if you were all right.” Esther s...
It stood by itself at the end of a quiet street. Maples had been planted and rose bushes grew along a picket fence. Amanda didn’t stir outside until well past ten. She wore a bright new outfit that would cost most women a couple of months’ worth of wages, and carried a fol...
And sure enough, one of the pirogues was missing. Fargo stood gazing into the dark and debating whether to take the other pirogue and go after Namo or stay put and wait for Namo to return. To find him out there would be next to impossible. But he’d promised Halette and Clovis he would try so he c...
“See that, Fargo?” Fargo eyed the long rock spine. “Yeah. Could be quartz or mica. There’s plenty of reflecting mineral traces in those rocks. That’s the third flash I’ve seen.” “Ahuh. It’s just, I been jumpier’n a long-tailed cat in a room full o...
It was an older version of Helen Hardesty’s animal. And not one iota friendlier. It greeted them with snarls and growls as they reached the property where a tumbledown cabin sat in a grove of jack pines. An ancient mule was tethered to a clothesline pole. Red long johns flapped in the wind. The d...
A big man, broad of shoulder and narrow at the hips, he sat tall in the saddle. He spotted the bear when it came out of the thick woods onto the trail and stopped. Fargo quickly drew rein. He wasn’t too concerned. He had a Colt strapped around his waist, over his buckskins. In a sheath in his boo...
The woods on both sides of the road were mantled in spreading shadows. Soon twilight would descend and they still had miles to go. Theodore Pickleman was a talker. He prattled on about the glories of Hannibal, about how it was a hub of commerce, how it had grown by bounds the past decade, about t...
They had left the grama grass and were climbing toward the distant Pass. With the change in elevation came a change in vegetation. Manzanitas sprang up, small trees with glossy red bark. Prickly pear cactus fringed the road. They saw yuccas. Or rather, Skye Fargo did, because none of the others w...
Usually the songbirds started a new day singing in exuberance. Not one was singing today. Fargo rode with every nerve tingling. Grizzlies were notorious for ambushing their prey. They were also cunning at concealing themselves. He searched in a loop. The ground was hard and there were plenty of p...
A tide of inner blackness threatened to wash over him but he resisted. Dimly, he was conscious of pounding hooves and loud voices, and he braced for certain discovery.Thunder filled his ears. Riders were on either side of him. He tried to move his right hand to draw his Colt but his body would no...
When the army felt the need to establish a military presence as a bastion against hostiles and to watch over those traveling the Oregon Trail, the government bought the trading post. Some of the buildings were replaced, new ones added, and fortifications erected. Located o...
Martha Winston was a quiet woman. She didn’t say a lot, and when she did, she said what was on her mind with no hemming and hawing. Lester was lucky in that she wasn’t one of those women who talked a man to death. Doubly lucky, because she could cook. The food was delicious. Supper consisted of t...