Over the laughter of a nearby waterfall, over a long roar the distant herds of bison that crowded the prairie, and over the oily creak of his knife on a sharp stone on his knee, his keen ear knew the sound of her light stepped as she crawled out of the pines into a sunny glade on a bluff. He didn’t turn around, he only dropped the stone, threw back the thick locks that retreated, his long black hair, and then, with his thumb, meditatively checked the razor blade his blade S...
As long as the lone red-coated equestrian policemen of the Northwest, tracking cattle thieves across uninhabited prairies and fighting hordes of warriors, have something to do with the boy approaching his teens, Mr. Leighton’s frank tales will be in demand. Wolves, carbines, bags of gold and logging run through its pages, and Sergeant Silk meets them all – a combination of Sir Robert Baden-Powell and Sherlock Holmes in a red military jacket.
