Tag: Westerns

The Pulps: ‘Tough Enough’

The collection of Western stories ends with a tale by Luke Short, who was as popular as Max Brand and whose work inspired multiple movies. “Tough Enough” was published in Argosy, the mother of pulps, in 1937.

This story follows the familiar premise of the stranger who rides into a town run by a criminal gang and leaves a trail of bodies behind him. Fisful of Dollars has of course become the archetype of that story but didn’t originate it, and the Short’s story differs enough from the now-established cliches to hold a few surprises. There are some secret identities and a double cross, and the tale is both well-told and generally engaging.

The Pulps: ‘ A Ticket Outside’

More exciting is Robert Ormond Case’s “Ticket Outside,” originally published in Western Story Magazine in 1933. Set in the Yukon, this tale of petty revenge follows “Wild Pete” Judson, who recently scraped together enough gold dust to buy his way out of the frozen north and return to civilization—but before he leaves, he wants to rub his success in the face of a partner he’s cheated and short-shrifted for years, just to get one final dig in. Despite the deadly cold weather, Pete’s partner has been forced by necessity to drive a stage, and Pete wants to meet him on the road just to show him the gold he’s gathered before heading to warmer climes.

“Wild Pete” is a character the reader is invited to love to hate, and it comes as no surprise when he receives his comeuppance through a series of ironical twists. The story works well primarily because Case is excellent and depicting the setting, a frozen, howling wasteland where life hangs by a narrow thread. Also, the story’s climax is genuinely satisfying even if it’s hardly unexpected.

The Pulps: ‘Butler’s Nag’

Since the Westerns form the largest section of this anthology, the next story up is “Butler’s Nag” by Frank Richardson Pierce, which appeared in Western Story Magazine in 1925. The story is about an old cow puncher who had a fondness for a horse and later, in retirement, improbably finds him again and rescues him from a glue factory.

“Butler’s Nag” oozes with sentimentality. Although there is some slight suspense when it is unclear whether Butler will rescue his horse in time, several improbably devices appear to make sure everything turns out all right. The conclusion is downright anticlimactic.

The Pulps: ‘Old Pard’

While I’ve enjoyed this collection of pulp stories, I sometimes think it lacks balance: For example, it ends with an essay on hero pulps rather than an actual story, so we get tantalized with The Shadow and Doc Savage with none of their adventures, perhaps for reasons of copyright. And there’s only one war story. And H. P. Lovecraft is touted in the commmentary but his entry is merely a short example of his poetry. There are, however, several other stories from the stable of Weird Tales writers, which we’ll get to as we approach the collection’s end.

Also, the collection of Western stories is one of the largest, whereas we have only one sports story and one war story. I have nothing against Westerns; I just wonder about this lack of balance.

Anyway, our story for this round is “Old Pard” by J. E. Grinstead. Like some of the previous stories, I have little to say about it—it is another example of workmanlike competence characteristic of many of the pulps. This story is about a cowhand with a mysterious past and the young man he takes a liking to. Much of the story has to do with their outfit, the Y Bar, and its battle with some rival ranchers, who are rustling cattle by “covering” the Y Bar’s brand with their own hourglass-shaped brand. Altering existing brands in this way is a classic way of stealing cattle, but any reader who doesn’t know that might be confused: I read this story aloud to my wife and infant daughter at bedtime, and I had to pause to explain to my wife the issue with the brands.

As it should, the story ends with a big shootout when the Y Bar cowboys take the law into their own hands. There is, of course, not even a mention of the possibility of involving lawmen. Such rough and ready frontier justice is what one might expect from this genre.

The final reveal of Old Pard’s true identity is meant to be shocking but isn’t particulary. It turns out he is someone of note who has been living anonymously as a mere cow puncher, but this reveal has no impact because his former life has no bearing on the story. The final lines of the story are unfortunately weak because they ride entirely on this reveal, but the story before then gives some colorful details of running cows and a big action scene, so the flat ending barely matters.

The Pulps: ‘The Ghost’

After an all-too-brief sampling of sports and war stories, The Pulps delivers a larger collection of of westerns. As is proper, it opens with a big name, Max Brand, whom editor Tony Goodstone credits for the western genre’s transition from more realistic to more fantastic, larger-than-life stories. Brand (real name Frederick Faust) is one of those curious writers who disdain their own careers, wanting recognition for “serious” literary work but instead finding success in popular fiction. Brand wanted to be a poet but was instead a successful, prolific, and popular author of cowboy adventures.

“The Ghost” is an early example of Brand’s work, published in 1919 in All-Story Weekly and again in Adventure in 1929. According to Goodstone, Brand was a great lover of classical mythology and based the story’s titular antihero on the god Pan, though I admit I would not have guessed that without Goodstone’s guidance. The “Ghost” is a brilliant thief plaguing a gold-rush town. Although he never kills his victims, he robs them blind and then disappears into a box canyon. The townsmen hire Silver Pete, a gunslinger with a shady past, to track the Ghost to his lair.

Playfulness and trickery follows, with the Ghost finding devious means to get the upper hand. Most remarkable about his character, and causing the reader to root for him despite his thievery, is his insistence on never taking a life. This is particularly notable because the story takes place in a setting where authors usually depict life as cheap. Though the story’s resolution is enjoyable, it is marred by its requirement that one of the major characters carry the idiot ball.

The story certainly illustrates Goodstone’s claim that Brand heralded a transition from realistic to mythical western adventures. The setting is nowhere in particular, and the characters and events have a markedly unreal quality to them. Brand had not yet personally visited the West when he wrote this story, and he does not appear even slightly interested in verisimilitude or realistic details.