When I was a kid, there were two grocery stores in Azle:
Trammell’s Pak-a-Bag, in downtown at the corner of Main and Stewart Streets,
where the blinker light was; and Rochelle’s Grocery, on the highway service
road half a mile from the street where I grew up. Trammell’s was a good-sized
grocery store for that time period and even had a butcher shop in the back, as
well as an attached dry goods store next door. Rochelle’s was smaller but
closer (in walking distance, even), so we went there when we only needed a
couple of things.
When my mother wanted to do some serious grocery shopping, though, she drove
the six miles to Lake Worth and went to the A.L. Davis Supermarket there, and
of course, being a little kid, I usually got dragged along. The thing is, at that
point my mother didn’t like to drive on the highway, which was a four-lane
divided highway with a median in the middle and crossovers every mile or so,
plus a two-lane, two-way service road on each side. So she drove on the service
roads, which had less traffic, coming and going. (When I think about how little
traffic actually was on that highway back then, compared to now, it seems a
little crazy that anybody would feel that way, but as I’ve said before and no
doubt will again, it was a different time.)
Coming back from Lake Worth, the service road on that side of the highway went
right along the edge of the Fort Worth Nature Center for a mile or so. The
Nature Center is a city park and wild animal preserve and is still there. The
view from the service road along that stretch is pretty scenic, with thickly
wooded, fairly steep hills dropping down to Lake Worth (the actual lake, not
the town of the same name) and the Trinity River. When we drove back along
there after going to the grocery store, I always looked out across that
landscape with great interest, because it reminded me of scenery I saw in all
the Western TV shows and movies I watched at the time. I could imagine John
Wayne or The Lone Ranger and Tonto or Roy Rogers galloping around out there and
having shootouts with the bad guys. In my head, I dubbed that area “The
Canyons” and started making up stories about what went on there.
Little did I know that 60 years later, I’d still be making up stories about
cowboys and bad guys. But that was one of the places where it started.
To add a little more reminiscing about the Nature Center, this is the area
where the infamous Lake Worth Monster, a.k.a. the Goatman, was supposed to
live. At one time there was a small rehab facility for alcoholics located there,
or as we called it with the usual sensitivity of kids, the Wino Farm. A dirt
road that was sometimes passable, sometimes not, led from the Nature Center
along the shore of the lake and then followed the river for several miles
across an area known as Mud Flats before finally connecting with the road that
went across the spillway at Eagle Mountain Lake, just upstream from Lake Worth.
I seem to recall that Mud Flats was a popular make-out spot when I was in high
school, but I never took a girl there other than Livia, and that was after we
were married and would get out and just drive around on Sunday afternoons
because gas was cheap and we didn’t have anything else to do. (I can no longer
even imagine having so much free time we didn’t know what to do with ourselves.
I should have been working harder back then.) When I got around to writing
TEXAS WIND, Mud Flats was also the area where gangsters took my private eye
protagonist to beat him up and dump him so he’d be scared off the case he was
working on. (That didn’t work out too well for them.)
Jump ahead to the time when our kids were little, and we’d often take them to
the Nature Center to hike the trails and look at the buffalo and prairie dogs
who lived there. Those were very enjoyable trips, and when I drive by the
entrance now, there’s always a part of me that wants to go look at the buffalo.
Unfortunately, what was free back then now requires an entrance fee, and I’ve
never paid it just to indulge a brief burst of nostalgia. Yet.
But I think about it when I drive by, and I always glance over at The Canyons
when I pass them, too, and that little kid making up exciting stories in his
head is right beside me, dreaming his cowboy dreams.
Bruno Fischer is probably the only author in this issue of POPULAR DETECTIVE who is still well-known at all. Pulp fans will recall Wilbur S. Peacock, Joe Archibald, and Morris Hershman (who is probably better known for the paperbacks he wrote later). One of the authors featured on the cover, along with Peacock, is William Degenhard, a name that's totally unknown to me. Just another example of the vast amount of once popular fiction that seems to have vanished forever.
That's a nice atmospheric cover on this issue of COWBOY STORIES. I don't know who painted it. Inside, the list of authors is more of a "Who?" rather than a "Who's Who". The best-known authors are probably Samuel Taylor and Cliff Walters. The lead novel is the only story listed in the Fictionmags Index for Matt O'Connell, which makes me suspect that may have been a pseudonym. There's also a story by Fridtjof Michelson, not a name to conjure up images of sagebrush and shootouts. Ol' Fridtjof managed to sell more than a dozen Western and adventure yarns to various pulps from the late Twenties to the mid-Thirties, though. And Alfred L. Garry contributes another installment in his long-running comedy Western series about Deputy Ham and Sheriff Egg.
One thing that most people have forgotten or never knew is
that a lot of popular fiction used to be serialized in newspapers. This was
true up into the 1940s and maybe beyond that. I don’t recall seeing any serials
in newspapers when I was growing up, but it’s certainly possible that such
things occurred elsewhere.
THE SKY RAIDER was serialized in The
Ottawa Journal and other papers in 1929. It’s the first novel by young
pilot Donald E. Keyhoe, who started writing while he was recuperating from
injuries suffered in a crackup in 1922. As you might expect, he specialized in
aviation stories. THE SKY RAIDER is an adventure yarn about air piracy, with
some elements of the traditional mystery thrown in as well. The protagonist,
Dick Trent, flies for the Air Mail, a relatively new operation at the time.
Dick’s not exactly a daredevil, but he’ll run some risks while he’s flying if
he has a good enough reason.
The owner of this particular Air Mail service has a beautiful daughter, a
ne’er-do-well son, and a government contract to deliver a quarter of a million
dollars for the Federal Reserve. Dick’s best friend takes the run carrying the
money. When he doesn’t show up where he’s supposed to, Dick leads the search.
He finds the wrecked and burned plane and the body of his friend. The pilot
wasn’t killed in the wreck, though. Dick figures out that he actually landed
the plane for some reason and then was murdered by someone who met him on the
ground. The money, of course, is gone.
The owner of the Air Mail service, the father of the girl Dick loves, is soon
arrested for the murder and robbery, convicted, and sent to prison to await
execution. Dick believes he’s innocent, and the rest of the novel is concerned
with our young hero’s efforts to ferret out the truth and uncover the real
For a first novel, THE SKY RAIDER is decently plotted. You’ll think you have
everything figured out more than once, but Keyhoe manages to put some nice
twists on the story. It’s not very well-paced, though, lurching along with some
stretches that drag. Most of the time the writing is serviceable at best,
reminding me of the prose in a lot of those Stratemeyer Syndicate books from
It really perks up, though, when Keyhoe is writing about flying itself. You can
tell he really had a passion for it. There’s a nice scene where Dick is
comparing flying to riding in a train, and train travel definitely comes off
second best. (I have a feeling that if E.S. Dellinger had been writing that
scene, it would have been the other way around. It’s interesting that enough
people in those days had an affinity for one or the other that both aviation
and railroads had millions of words of pulp fiction written about them.)
Keyhoe had a long career writing for the aviation and air-war pulps, mixing in
a few detective stories along the way. He also wrote the short-lived Yellow
Peril pulp series, DR. YEN SIN. Then he struck gold in the Fifties with his
supposedly non-fiction books about UFOs. I gobbled up all those flying saucer
books when I was a kid, and I remember reading and enjoying the ones by Keyhoe.
I’d never read any of his aviation stories until THE SKY RAIDER, though.
And even though it’s very old-fashioned and has its flaws, I also found it
pretty entertaining. The whole novel can be downloaded in PDF format from the
Age of Aces website, with the first installment to be found here. Age of Aces
also publishes a number of collections of Keyhoe’s aviation pulp stories, as
well as collections by other stalwarts of that genre, and I have a feeling I’m
going to be buying some of them. All three of Keyhoe’s DR. YEN SIN novels are
available from Altus Press and I’ll probably spring for those as well. In the
meantime, you can sample THE SKY RAIDER for free, and if you’re looking for a
novel that will transport you back into another era, it’s a good one.
I keep finding old movies that I’ve never seen, despite the
prodigious amount of them I watched on TV when I was a kid. NORTHERN PURSUIT,
made in 1943, is a World War II espionage adventure starring Errol Flynn as a
Canadian Mountie battling Nazi spies and saboteurs, until a bad decision leads
to him being kicked out of the RCMP in disgrace. Things go from bad to worse
from there as, disillusioned by what’s happened to him, he’s recruited by the
very spy ring he was trying to break up.
Okay, stop me right there if you’ve figured out the big plot twist. It’s
certainly not hard to do, and the script doesn’t keep the viewer in the dark
for very long, either. But as I’ve said many times before, it just doesn’t
matter. The fun (and this movie is a great deal of fun) is in watching some top
professionals go about spinning an exciting, entertaining yarn.
I wouldn’t say Errol Flynn is one of my favorite actors, but I’ve always liked
him and his movies. Helmut Dantine is the head bad guy, and he’s as sleek and
evil as you’d want him to be. There’s plenty of stalwart support from John
Ridgley as a fellow Mountie, Gene Lockhart (a little miscast but effective as a
Nazi spy), and Tom Tully as an RCMP inspector. Jay Silverheels, Tonto his own
self, is supposed to be in the movie somewhere in a bit part, but I never
The script is by none other than the old pulpster Frank Gruber, who really knew
how to tell a story, and veteran screenwriter Alvah Bessie. It’s based on a
story by another prolific pulp writer, Leslie T. White. I don’t know which of
White’s stories was used as the source material, but I wouldn’t be surprised if
it was published originally in ARGOSY or ADVENTURE. And NORTHERN PURSUIT was
directed by Raoul Walsh, who directed many pictures I liked a great deal, such
as THE ROARING TWENTIES, DARK COMMAND, HIGH SIERRA, and WHITE HEAT. He’s
another one who really knew how to tell an exciting story. I mean, just look at
the guy! That’s what a two-fisted movie director should look like.
Not that NORTHERN PURSUIT is perfect. I thought the final showdown could have
been a little more dramatic, and then the very end of the movie, Flynn’s last
line, is so oddly wrong and tone-deaf, especially considering all the good
notes the movie’s hit up until then, that I can only suspect it was included at
the insistence of some studio executive overly enamored of his own cleverness.
It’s jarringly out of place, and if you watch NORTHERN PURSUIT I think you
should just pretend it ended ten seconds earlier than it actually did. And if
you like World War II espionage adventure movies, you definitely should watch
it. I enjoyed it a lot.
Here's another good Mountie cover on this issue of NORTH-WEST ROMANCES. I don't know who the artist is, but I know there are some fine authors with stories in this issue, with the biggest name probably being Dan Cushman. Two authors better known for Westerns rather than Northerns are also on hand, William Heuman and Archie Joscelyn, both of them writers I like quite a bit. Fiction House regular R.S. Lerch contributes a story, as well. Looks like a good issue of the leading Northern pulp.
Most of the WESTERN STORY covers during the 1920s were on the sedate side, but here's one that has some nice action. I can't read the artist's name in the scan, but maybe someone among you can identify who painted this cover. Inside this issue are two stories by Frederick Faust, one as by Max Brand and the other as by John Frederick, plus stories by Frank Richardson Pierce, Hugh Grinstead, Ray Humphreys, Austin Hall, Reginald Barker, and Kenneth Gilbert, all regular contributors to WESTERN STORY.
Not long after Lou Cameron created the Longarm series for Berkley, he began writing the Renegade series for Warner Books under the pseudonym Ramsay Thorne. Unlike Longarm, on which Cameron was one of several rotating authors, he turned out all the Renegade books himself. The series was pretty successful, running for several years. At one time, I had all the books in paperback but never read any of them. These days, the Renegade series is available under Cameron's real name in e-book editions from Piccadilly Publishing, so when I decided it was finally time for me to sample this series, that's the route I took. And I'm glad I did, because RENEGADE is one of the better books I've read recently. The time is the early 1890s, the setting Arizona Territory not far from the Mexican border, as the protagonist, Lieutenant Richard Walker, is about to be hanged after a court-martial. Seems he took pity on some Mexican revolutionaries/bandits who were caught on the American side of the border and let them go, and in their escape, a soldier was killed. Walker escapes as well and manages to make it across the border into Mexico, where he's promptly captured by brutal Rurales and faces execution again. Of course, Walker escapes again, and this time he takes a Maxim gun with him, which helps him come in really handy when he falls in with that same bunch of revolutionaries. He also befriends a French mercenary who has been in Mexico since the time of Maximilian's dictatorship. Walker quickly assumes a leadership role among the revolutionaries and gets a battlefield promotion to captain--Captain Gringo, as he's known by one and all for the rest of the book, as he helps the revolutionaries in their struggle against the notorious El Presidente, Porfirio Diaz. That pretty much sums up the plot of RENEGADE, which is a very straightforward book. But what makes it worthwhile is the wonderfully profane, crude, politically incorrect voice in which it's written, as Captain Gringo beds just about every woman he meets, mows down scores of Rurales and Federales with the machine gun he carries, and leads a long railroad chase across Mexico as he tries to get himself and his new-found friends safely from the high deserts of the border country to the jungles along the coast. There's a ton of well-written action and some bawdy humor. Sure, most of it is over the top, but that hardly ever bothers me. The only real flaws in this one are that it's too long and therefore a little repetitive in places, and after everything that's gone before, the last couple of chapters struck me as sort of anti-climactic. But for the most part, RENEGADE is great fun (although probably not something that will be to everyone's taste) and I really enjoyed it. I'm glad the whole series is available as e-books. I may not ever get around to reading all of them, but I have a feeling I'll give it a try.
As many times as TRACK OF THE CAT played on TV while I was
growing up, you’d think I would have seen it by now, but that’s not the case.
I’m always glad to come across a Western I haven’t seen, so we watched the DVD
of it not long ago.
However, as it turns out, TRACK OF THE CAT is not a normal Western at all.
Since it’s based on a novel by Walter Van Tilburg Clark (THE OX-BOW INCIDENT),
that’s kind of to be expected. Robert Mitchum, Tab Hunter, and William Hopper
(Paul Drake from PERRY MASON, his own self) play brothers who don’t get along
that well as they live on an isolated ranch in the California mountains with
their parents, bitter old Beulah Bondi and drunkenly ineffectual Phillip Tonge.
The youngest brother, played by Hunter, has been courting a girl (Diana Lynn)
his mother doesn’t approve of, and she’s come to visit. Mitchum, Hunter, and
Hopper also have an old maid sister, played by Theresa Wright. There are a lot
of angsty undercurrents going on, and when a panther starts attacking the
family’s stock and Mitchum and Hopper go out after it, that sets off a chain of
I haven’t read the source novel, but there’s enough doom, gloom, domestic
drama, and creepy subtext in TRACK OF THE CAT that while watching it, I kept
thinking, “This is like Tennessee Williams wrote a Western.” I didn’t dislike
it, mind you, but it’s the kind of movie that makes you ask yourself what the
hell it is you’re watching. I was expecting a taut, suspenseful yarn, a man vs.
nature action story with Mitchum battling the panther, but that’s not what it
The snowy outdoor photography by William Clothier is excellent, and director
William Wellman keeps things moving along fairly well despite the talky script.
The acting is okay, especially considering there’s not really a sympathetic
character in the whole movie. Wait, I take that back. Joe Sam, a crazy old
Indian ranch hand, is sort of sympathetic at times, when he’s not being creepy
as all get-out. The really odd thing about that is Joe Sam is played by none
other than Carl “Alfalfa” Switzer from the Little Rascals, who was all of 26
years old when this movie was made. It’s some pretty masterful work under heavy
So overall, I can only give this movie a qualified recommendation. It’s well
made and interesting enough that I’m glad I watched it, but heavy psychological
drama isn’t really my thing. If you enjoy that sort of movie and haven’t seen
TRACK OF THE CAT, it’s worth checking out.
I don’t recall the exact date, but 40 years ago this month,
Livia and I moved into the original house that we built on this property. She
and I built it from the ground up, along with a great deal of help from her
parents and other family members on both sides. We dug the foundation and
poured the cement for it by hand, using a cement mixer and buckets. We dug the
septic tanks and lateral line, even though we had to rent a jackhammer to break
up the rock layer that’s close to the surface under the ground. We framed it
and raised the rafters. It was a lot of work, but it was a darned good house.
The land itself, a little more than three acres, had only one tree on it when
we started building. At one time it had been part of a farm, and the whole area
was one big field. So at least it’s pretty level. We’ve planted dozens of trees
over the years. Some lived, most didn’t. We added some storage barns. We built
a detached building that served as my library and writing studio for a number
of years. All of that was lost in the wildfire of 2008, almost 30 years after
we moved in.
I don’t think there was ever any real question that we would rebuild right here
on the same property. In December of ’08, we moved into the new house. Even
before that, though, we had moved in a mobile home to live in while we decided
what to do and got the new house built. So except for about a month right after
the fire when we stayed with Livia’s parents, this piece of ground has been our
home for the past 40 years.
I plan for it to remain our home. We’ve lived too much, and lost too much, here
to ever go anywhere else. There are too many memories. Even when I’m gone, I
want my ashes spread here so I’ll still be part of the place. Maybe some in the
front yard, where I sat on the porch and watched the dogs play, and over in
front of the garage where Patches is buried, and across the driveway where my
studio used to be and Harvey is buried, and out where Dobie and Max are resting
. . .
I'm not sure I've ever come across a "girl hidden inside a tree in a graveyard" cover before, but that's what you've got on this issue of 10-STORY DETECTIVE MAGAZINE, courtesy of artist Al Drake. The best-known authors inside this issue are Philip Ketchum, Joe Archibald, and Ray Cummings. There's also a story by Joseph Commings, an author who's almost competely forgotten now, but he published fairly prolifically in the mystery magazines, both pulps and digests, from the mid-Forties to the mid-Eighties, so that's a pretty long career. We were in some of the same issues of MIKE SHAYNE MYSTERY MAGAZINE. Commings' main detective was a U.S. Senator named Brooks U. Banner. There are more than two dozen stories in this series, but his cover-featured yarn in this issue of 10-STORY DETECTIVE isn't one of them. The other authors in this issue are writers I've never heard of. I do kind of like that goofy cover.
This is a pulp that I own and read recently. The scan is
from my copy. That looks like an H.W. Scott cover to me, but I’m not entirely
certain about that.
The featured story is “Six-Gun Survey”, a novella by E. Hoffmann Price. Price
was a great pulp author, one who could write in almost every genre and do a
good job with all of them. From what I’ve read of his work, Westerns may well
have been his weakest area (with the exception of his Simon Boliver Grimes
series), but those yarns are still consistently entertaining. “Six-Gun Survey”
is well written, as always with Price, and the plot, which involves a land and
irrigation swindle as well as camels left over the army’s failed experiment
with them in Arizona Territory, is pretty interesting. Even so, this story is a
little slow and not top-notch Price. Still worth reading, though.
Victor Rousseau had a long career in the pulps, stretching all the way back to
1907 and lasting until 1948. Like E. Hoffmann Price, he wrote in multiple
genres. In the Thirties and Forties, he wrote primarily for Trojan Publishing
Corporation, the publisher of the Spicy and Speed magazine lines, turning out
scores of detective, adventure, and Western yarns. His story in this issue of
FIGHTING WESTERN, “Buffalo Trail”, is a pretty good novelette which finds six
mountain men joining a trail drive. The fur trapping days are just about over,
and these men have to find something to do with their lives. One is young
enough that he’s done some cowboying in the past, and he’s the protagonist of
this tale, which has several nice plot twists I didn’t see coming at all. It
suffers a little from an over-abundance of what I call “yuh mangy polecat”
dialogue, but despite that, I enjoyed it very much.
Laurence Donovan was yet another prolific, versatile pulpster who wrote a lot
for Trojan. His story “Brand of a Thief” reads like it could have appeared in
RANCH ROMANCES, since there’s a romantic rectangle in this one, as well as
$30,000 in missing money from the sale of a herd. Donovan was good with action
and there are some nice shoot-outs and fights, along with a satisfying plot
twist. I liked this one quite a bit, too.
John Jo Carpenter was really John Reese, who wrote dozens of stories under the
Carpenter name for the Western pulps during the Forties and Fifties, before
going on to a successful career as an author of Western and mystery novels in
both hardback and paperback. He wrote the novel on which the movie CHARLEY
VARRICK is based. His story in this issue, “Gun-Wise and Trail-Shy”, uses the
standard plot of the young man wrongly condemned for a crime who has to take up
the owlhoot trail. But when he encounters another outlaw, things take an
unexpected turn. Reese was an excellent writer, and this is another good story.
Paul Hanna was a Trojan Publishing house-name, so there’s really no way of
knowing who wrote “Beasts of Pueblo”, the final story in this issue. Which is a
shame, because it’s an excellent yarn and my favorite from this issue. The
protagonist is a young man who runs a Wells, Fargo express office. He’s plagued
by what we’d now think of as a phobia which makes him physically ill when he’s
confronted by a situation calling for violence. As you’d expect, he winds up
overcoming it (this is a Western
pulp, after all), but this story has a lot of emotional depth and is very
There are only five stories in this issue, which is a pretty low number for a
Western pulp, but they’re all substantial tales and they’re all good. I was a
little surprised that the E. Hoffmann Price story is actually the weakest in
the bunch, since I really like Price’s work, and even at that, it’s still
entertaining! This is just a good all-around issue and I enjoyed reading it.
Quite a few years ago I read one of the books in Erle
Stanley Gardner’s series about District Attorney Doug Selby. I couldn’t tell
you which one, but I remember liking it all right despite feeling that it wasn’t
nearly as good as the Perry Mason and Donald Lam/Bertha Cool novels that I’d
I thought it was about time I read another one, so I picked up THE D.A. GOES TO
TRIAL, published in 1940 as the fourth book in the series. There’s not much
point in trying to summarize the usual incredibly complicated plot. Let’s just
say that it involves a dead hobo whose true identity is a mystery, a hotheaded
rancher, a runaway wife, a divorce that may or may not be legal, the
fingerprints of a dead man that don’t match the corpse, various cases of
embezzlement and blackmail, and the return of Selby’s old girlfriend who is now
a lawyer and will wind up opposing him in court. Gardner juggles all these elements
until Selby finally puts them into a pattern that makes sense (I guess;
sometimes it’s hard to tell with Gardner) and brings a murderer to justice.
Gardner was never known for his vividly descriptive writing, but there are some
nice passages in this one about the Southern California landscape. And the plot
is pretty interesting. As usual with Gardner, the second half of the book is
better than the first, as the pace picks up and there’s a greater sense of urgency.
Of course, the courtroom scenes, where Gardner really excels, usually come in
the second half of the book, too. That’s not the case here, as the only
courtroom scene is a short one lacking in fireworks, but overall the story
moves along better anyway.
For me, the real problem with the Doug Selby books is Doug Selby himself. He’s
a really bland, colorless protagonist, just one step up from a cipher. In this
series Gardner seems to be trying to recreate the same dynamic as in the Perry
Mason books: reporter Sylvia Martin is Della Street, Sheriff Rex Brandon is
Paul Drake, but Doug Selby is no Perry Mason.
So I can only give THE D.A. GOES TO TRIAL a mixed recommendation. It’s
entertaining if you stick with it, and I’m glad I read it, but I suspect it’ll
be a good while, if ever, before I sample this series again.
(That’s my copy in the scan above. Below are covers from some of the other