Brief description:
THE PEN AND THE TOMAHAWK...
Bates DeQueen was a hard-nosed New York reporter on the prowl for a big story And since there was no hotter news than the Indian War, he ended up with “Easy”- smack dab in the thick of it.
Trouble was, the War Department wanted a “positive image” presented to Mr. DeQueen, who just didn’t realize that a man could get himself scalped on an interview with the renegade, Elk Tooth.
And when a circus picks just this time to show up with a wagon load of exotic beauties and a con man or two- all hell is set to bust loose at Outpost Nine!
A twig cracked underfoot. . .
Matt curled his thumb around the hammer of his sidearm and drew it back, the click-click sounding loud in the night. Whoever they were, they were coming in.
They stood pressed against the trees. Glancing over his shoulder, Matt could see the glint of the moon on the rifle barrels of a half-dozen men lying prone in a shallow gully.
His eyes swept the prairie, examining each shadow, each low, formless mass. All was deathly still.
And suddenly they charged, as if rising out of the earth...
Bates DeQueen was a hard-nosed New York reporter on the prowl for a big story And since there was no hotter news than the Indian War, he ended up with “Easy”- smack dab in the thick of it.
Trouble was, the War Department wanted a “positive image” presented to Mr. DeQueen, who just didn’t realize that a man could get himself scalped on an interview with the renegade, Elk Tooth.
And when a circus picks just this time to show up with a wagon load of exotic beauties and a con man or two- all hell is set to bust loose at Outpost Nine!
A twig cracked underfoot. . .
Matt curled his thumb around the hammer of his sidearm and drew it back, the click-click sounding loud in the night. Whoever they were, they were coming in.
They stood pressed against the trees. Glancing over his shoulder, Matt could see the glint of the moon on the rifle barrels of a half-dozen men lying prone in a shallow gully.
His eyes swept the prairie, examining each shadow, each low, formless mass. All was deathly still.
And suddenly they charged, as if rising out of the earth...
Publication
Jove (1955), Edition: 1st Printing, 192 pages
Series
Genres
Collection
Physical description
7 x 5 inches