Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Sundance 27: Texas Empire
    Sundance 27: Texas Empire
    Sundance 27: Texas Empire
    Ebook211 pages3 hours

    Sundance 27: Texas Empire

    By Peter McCurtin

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    Sundance was riding in the wildest corner of West Texas when he heard tell of a ruthless land baron called Hollis Bannister. As owner of the biggest ranch in the western half of the state, Bannister didn’t quite take to the idea of new settlers moving in on his share. Bannister figured things would run smoother if he got rid of the governor and ran the territory his own way. As part of his plan to make himself dictator of the state of West Texas, Bannister hired a slew of gunslinging hard-cases and ex-soldiers to run out anyone opposed to him. That was when Sundance came in as one of Bannister’s hired guns, he’d have a good chance of uncovering the whole operation – if he didn’t get himself killed first.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPiccadilly
    Release dateOct 31, 2019
    ISBN9780463791363
    Sundance 27: Texas Empire
    Author

    Peter McCurtin

    Peter J. McCurtin was born in Ireland on 15 October 1929, and immigrated to America when he was in his early twenties. Records also confirm that, in 1958, McCurtin co-edited the short-lived (one issue) New York Review with William Atkins. By the early 1960s, he was co-owner of a bookstore in Ogunquit, Maine, and often spent his summers there.McCurtin's first book, Mafioso (1970) was nominated for the prestigious Mystery Writers of America Edgar Award, and filmed in 1973 as The Boss, with Henry Silva. More books in the same vein quickly followed, including Cosa Nostra (1971), Omerta (1972), The Syndicate (1972) and Escape From Devil's Island (1972). 1970 also saw the publication of his first "Carmody" western, Hangtown.Peter McCurtin died in New York on 27 January 1997. His westerns in particular are distinguished by unusual plots with neatly resolved conclusions, well-drawn secondary characters, regular bursts of action and tight, smooth writing. If you haven't already checked him out, you have quite a treat in store.McCurtin also wrote under the name of Jack Slade and Gene Curry.

    Read more from Peter Mc Curtin

    Related to Sundance 27

    Titles in the series (33)

    View More
    View More

    Related ebooks

    Western Fiction For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      A Rocket Full Of Posie

      Apr 9, 2023

      Man, people are cranky. And shouty. And downright silly. Particularly politicians. And, generally speaking, the whole damn world. There has been a lot of loose trolling going on. You could have written the script for the carry-on about British anti-t

      4 min read

    • Article

      Constant Sorrow

      Feb 1, 2018

      Constant Sorrow
      5 min read

    • Article

      Leonard Pitts Jr.: The National Weekend of Bigots

      Oct 12, 2022

      It was the “National Weekend of Bigots.” At least, that’s what Ana Navarro called it Monday on “The View.” It was as good a description as any for the soul-draining drumbeat of hate that dominated weekend headlines.You had the Black rapper Ye, nee Ka

      2 min read

    • Article

      More Than A Fish Story

      Jul 1, 2022

      More Than A Fish Story
      4 min read

    • Article

      White-Washed

      Nov 25, 2019

      White-Washed
      4 min read

    • Article

      All The President’s Men

      Jul 6, 2022

      MY new job is dog-sitting for my grand-dog Merlin, a 14-month-old wire-haired vizsla who has the bone structure of a kangaroo. His parents can’t WFH, so Merlin spends his days with us. The resident Old Dog practices labradorial transcendental meditat

      4 min read

    • Article

      Letter to My Son

      Jul 4, 2015

      Letter to My Son
      30 min read

    • Article

      Slouching towards Bethlehem

      Apr 5, 2023

      MILESTONES are like hailstones: their arrival comes as a surprise, but they melt away quickly. I’ve now lived in England twice as long as I lived in the land of my birth. I’m the wife of a man born in Wales, the mother of a son born in the Hammersmit

      4 min read

    • Article

      Before the Flood

      Sep 10, 2019

      Before the Flood
      10 min read

    • Article

      Better Call Ken

      Dec 15, 2021

      Better Call Ken
      20 min read

    • Article

      Refusenik

      Jan 1, 2021

      I was promised a girl held her glossy image, shatterable, ice skating on a Soviet pond. I’d never seen snow but for the cut out paper flakes hung in school hallways. I only knew rain as intermittent confusion. Los Angeles in the ’80s. We set fire to

      7 min read

    • Article

      With Whomever Will Have Me

      Dec 23, 2021

      With Whomever Will Have Me
      10 min read

    • Article

      Dark History

      Sep 1, 2023

      My great-grandfather, José-María Arana, was a racist. After the United States barred Chinese men from immigrating under the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882, tens of thousands sought a new life in Mexico, where they faced no warmer a welcome as they est

      5 min read

    • Article

      Get Slick

      Oct 16, 2019

      Get Slick
      12 min read

    • Article

      The Many Souths

      Aug 13, 2018

      The Many Souths
      5 min read

    • Article

      Clarence Page: J.D. Vance Seeks To Build Bridges, Maybe Even Among Republicans

      Apr 9, 2021

      As a high school student, bestselling “Hillbilly Elegy” author J.D. Vance recalled, “People talked about Clarence as someone to look up to.” “Not when I was there,” I interrupted. And we laughed like two people who went to the same high school, altho

      3 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Sundance 27

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Sundance 27 - Peter McCurtin

      The Home of Great Western Fiction!

      Sundance was riding in the wildest corner of West Texas when he heard tell of a ruthless land baron called Hollis Bannister. As owner of the biggest ranch in the western half of the state, Bannister didn’t quite take to the idea of new settlers moving in on his share. Bannister figured things would run smoother if he got rid of the governor and ran the territory his own way.

      As part of his plan to make himself dictator of the state of West Texas, Bannister hired a slew of gunslinging hard-cases and ex-soldiers to run out anyone opposed to him. That was when Sundance came in as one of Bannister’s hired guns, he’d have a good chance of uncovering the whole operation – if he didn’t get himself killed first.

      SUNDANCE 27: TEXAS EMPIRE

      By Peter McCurtin

      First published by Leisure Books in 1982

      Copyright © 1982, 2019 by Peter McCurtin

      First Digital Edition: November 2019

      Names, characters and incidents in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information or storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

      This is a Piccadilly Publishing Book

      Cover image © 2019 by Tony Masero

      Check out Tony’s work here

      Text © Piccadilly Publishing

      Published by Arrangement with the Author Estate.

      Publisher’s Note:

      In this book, the author uses characters’ native dialect to bring that person to life. Whether they speak French, Irish, American English or English itself, he uses vernacular language to impart this.

      Therefore, when German characters use words such as Vhat, Vhen, Vhy instead of What, When, Why and so on, please bear in mind that these are not spelling/OCR mistakes.

      Chapter One

      Friends and neighbors, the big man was shouting, "you all know me, most of you anyhow, and you know I’m no tinhorn or windbag or four-flusher. Hollis Bannister always speaks the truth and would crawl over broken glass to keep his word. That’s the kind of a man I am and I’ll stomp the man that says otherwise. Sure I’m rich, but I did it myself with no help from a rich daddy or the crooked politicians in Austin. I worked from dark to dark, through the freezin’ winds of winter to the dust of summer, and all those years I asked the help or the charity of no man.

      Today, twenty years later, I got the biggest ranch, run the most cows in West Texas, my bank account is as frisky as a new colt, but that don’t mean I’ve changed and gone high-hat. Nobody ever called me ‘mister’ and got away with it. I’m ‘Hollis’ to the president of the bank and ‘Hollis’ to that old colored man that sweeps out the bank. One man is as good as another to me, provided—I say, provided—he deserves to be called a man, and if he don’t, then the hell with him. Then he don’t call me nothin’, ’cause I don’t even know he’s alive. But show me a real man and I’ll belly up to the bar with him, buy him a drink or let him buy me one, be he the poorest dirt farmer ever lived or the President of these United States, and seein’ some of the presidents we been gettin’ lately I don’t know I wouldn’t rather drink with the farmer.

      A ripple of laughter ran through the crowd gathered in the courthouse square. It was early evening, not quite dark yet, but torches flared in a dozen places, throwing light and shadow across the faces of the people who had come to hear the big man on the platform. Off to one side were the open whisky barrels with tin dippers, and for those who didn’t drink whisky there were kegs of beer, and for those who wanted to eat, trestle tables loaded down with fried chicken and spare ribs were set up on the withered grass of early summer. The members of the hoe-down band which had been playing earlier sat to one side of the main platform, ready to make more music when the boss man gave the signal. It was Saturday night in Crockett, Texas, and a good time was being had by all. Sundance turned back to hear what Hollis Bannister was saying now.

      Hollis Bannister was big and bull-voiced, immensely virile looking for a man in his middle forties. Behind him on the platform sat a number of West Texas notables; the most prominent was State Senator Berry Ryland, who billed himself as ‘the friend of the little man’. The only man there who wasn’t watching Bannister was his bodyguard, Grady Copeland. He was watching the crowd.

      Now, friends, Bannister shouted, I’m not going to jawbone you to death with a lot of lawyer’s talk ’cause you-all know what I think of certain kind of lawyers, and when I say that I don’t mean the honest advocate who looks out for the poor man’s rights. All I want to say is what I want for West Texas is as legal as killin’ a man as has the nerve to fool around with your wife or your baby sister. Bannister held up his arms until the laughter subsided. "Seriously, folks, what I want for West Texas is independence … statehood. That’s legal, friends, or I wouldn’t be saying it.

      A little history for them here that ain’t bookworms or snivelin’ college professors. When Texas joined the Union it was written into the constitution that Texas retained – that means kept – the right to divide into separate, smaller states at any time in the future. That’s the law of the land, as any honest lawyer will tell you. No more than four smaller states, that’s what Washington agreed to. Now I don’t care what the rest of Texas does. All I’m interested is West Texas, your country and mine. It’s not that I want us to secede from the Union or anything like that, for the West Texan is the finest American that ever walked in shoe leather. What I’m saying is, if there can be a West Virginia, why can’t there be a West Texas? You have North Carolina and South Carolina. Same thing. For too long, friends and neighbors, we have been forced to go hat in hand, beggin’ for favors from the fat-gutted sneaks in Austin …

      Sundance saw that Bannister had his bully boys dispersed throughout the crowd. There was no mistaking them. All big men, hard-fisted and tough, ready to start swinging if trouble started. But there was no trouble, not yet anyway, for Bannister had fed and liquored his audience well. Above the speakers’ platform hung a banner: STATEHOOD IN ’85. Crook was right, Sundance decided. Hollis Bannister was a dangerous man. A very dangerous man.

      We’re different people out here in West Texas, Bannister was saying. "Nobody ever gave us nothin’ in our whole life, not that we ever asked for nothin’ because we wouldn’t have got it if we did ask. Out here we’re the poor relations, the shitkickers … excuse me, ladies, but I’m a plain-spoken man, always was. We’re as different from East Texas as hog jowls from T-bone steak. Oh, they tax us all right, but what do we get in return? Nothin’, that’s the answer to that. In the state capital in Austin the politicians dine off china plates and white linen tablecloths. They eat and drink the best graft can pay for while poor people out here go to bed at night with nothing but air in their bellies. Why? Because they don’t give a good Goddamn about you. Why? Because they can’t take the time to worry their heads about the plight of the common man. They’re too busy hangin’ oil paintings and crystal chandeliers and sending their kids to Boston to be educated …"

      Crook is right, Sundance thought. Hollis Bannister is no loudmouth back country stump-roarer. He isn’t interested in the pork barrel or the gravy boat. Money means nothing to him because he is the richest man in West Texas. Crook said, What Bannister wants is power, more power than any man has a right to. More power than the President because the President has to answer to Congress. Hollis Bannister wants to answer to no one. He demands statehood for West Texas, but that's just a convenient name for a separate country of which he will be the absolute ruler

      The white-livered politicians in Austin accuse me of trying to tear Texas apart, Bannister was saying after another burst of applause died away. No such thing, my friends. All I want is the best for that part of Texas where I was born and raised. I see no conflict in that. It’s not like I want to post border guards and keep the rest of Texas out. All honest men and women will be welcome in our new state. But there must be changes, friends and neighbors. There must be a better deal all round. No longer will we tolerate bein’ told what to do by outsiders that don’t know our problems and wouldn’t care if they did know. All that has to come to an end for the good of everybody. I see a time not too far in the future when the State of West Texas will prosper like no other state in the Union. Sure it’s hard, back-breaking country, but we’re a tough people and we can do it if we can just get the Austin politicians off our backs, can break their stranglehold on our necks …

      Listening to Bannister, Sundance recalled Crook’s words: Bannister keeps blaming the so-called crooked politicians in Austin for everything, as if they were responsible for the droughts and the blizzards, the cow pox and the hard times. He blames them for the Comanche raids, the high cost of coffee and anything else he can think of Most of what he says makes no sense at all, but he says it so long and loud that the people out there believe it. Maybe ‘believe’ isn’t the right word. They feel it in their guts. Most politicians do a little of what Bannister is doing, but he carries it all the way. Add to that the fact that he owns a well-run weekly newspaper – his niece is editor and publisher – and you can see the influence he has in West Texas.

      Bannister was saying, The crooked politicians in Austin will try to stop us. Of course they will, for the average politician is like an old pet dog I had once. Wasn’t good for nothin’ but fillin’ his belly. You could feed that old dog ten times a day and still he’d want more. Lord, that old dog would eat till he was fit to bust, but that wasn’t enough for him … he’d want more. As he grew older and hardened in the ways of gluttony, I’d try to cut down on his intake of grub to keep him from dying’ and you should have seen the way he turned on me, snarlin’ and barin’ his teeth. Finally, I had to shoot him for his own good. Most of your politicians are like that old dog, my friends. They got more graft than they can pocket, and still they want more. They want to keep West Texas under their control ’cause they can’t bear to let anythin’ go from their sweaty paws.

      Crook said of Bannister: Some of his ideas are good – God knows West Texas is as poor as dirt –but I think at heart he is an evil man, all the more dangerous because he seems to believe what he says. He isn’t crooked because he has no need to be, but if I had to choose a crook over Bannister I’d take the crook every time. It wouldn’t be so bad if he let the voters decide for themselves, but no, that isn’t good enough for him. Maybe he has a real concern for the common man, as he calls him, but he doesn’t think the common man has the brains of a louse. Come to think of it, maybe he doesn’t — if he listens to Bannister.

      Bannister was now talking about the distribution of land. "Now out here in West Texas we have tens of thousands of square miles of land owned by the state government. Federal too, but I’ll go into that later. That state land ain’t doin’ nothin’ but sittin’ there. The politicians are hangin’ onto it ’cause they think some day it’ll be worth a lot more than it is now. Sure they are, that’s their way. What I propose to do when I become governor of this new state is to throw it open to settlement: parcel it out in equal shares to men that need land to feed their families. Not only that, but there will be state-made loans at no interest so that a man can make a decent start and not have to listen to his children cryin’ of hunger in their beds. My enemies – your enemies – scoff and say where’s all this money to come from? Well, I’m no miracle-maker and don’t pretend to have all the answers. All I can tell you is the money will be found when the time comes. And if you think I’m playin’ fast and loose with state land and money that ain’t mine, I’d like to remind you that I have thrown some of my own land open to settlement. But I don’t want you to get all teary-eyed and think what a fine fella I am. My friends, I got more land than I’ll need if I live to be a hundred and ten …"

      Crook said: Bannister has been bringing in what he calls ‘his people’ and settling them on small sections of land to the west of his main ranch. ‘Poor land’, most of it, so letting ‘his people’ settle on it doesn’t mean much. Anyway, they won’t ever own the land, no matter what it says on paper. Some of these new settlers are just poor dumb folks willing to do anything Bannister says, which is mostly to vote the right way when the time comes. It’s the rest of them are the real danger: hard cases, even outlaws, pretending to be ranchers and farmers. If he brings in enough of ‘his people’ he’ll be able to put across the referendum on the statehood issue. The rest of the voters he hopes to buy with vague promises of the good times to come. Pie in the sky, but he swears everybody will get a slice of it. Naturally, there has been some opposition to his wild ideas, but not much lately. His thugs have seen to that. Ranches and farms have been burned in the dead of night. Men shot in the back. He blames it on the Comanches.

      Bannister was going on about the Indians of West Texas. "My friends, the state authorities and the U.S. Army have been unable to curb these murdering savages and we have to suffer for it. A man works like a dog to put a little place together and then these animals slaughter his family and burn his house to the ground. Now I have no real hate for the Injun, but this raidin’ and killin’ has to be stopped and by that I don’t mean a lot of militia marchin’ up one hill and down the other, then comin’ home with sore feet and after that it’s business as usual. No friends, when I become governor, there is goin’ to be an all-out war against the Comanches and the Kiowas, for that’s the only way to get this thing settled once and for all. When we become West Texas, the mother state will have to give us our share of the state treasury – that’s the law – and I’m goin’ to recruit and equip a force of men – an army – that will do nothin’ but fight the Injun till he’s whipped for good. I don’t care if we have to kill off every Injun in West Texas if that’s what it takes to make a lastin’ peace, for what is the good buildin’ up at one end while the Injun tears down at the other?

      As for the tame Injun, so-called, he’s been takin’ up too much land and makin’ no good use of it. The plain truth, friends, is the Injun, tame or wild, don’t like to work. Sure it’s a soft life followin’ the buffalo herds and layin’ around while the squaws do the work. But that’s goin’ to be changed like so many things. When I become governor, the Injun that wants to work the land will get a share of the land, but this wanderin’ about has to cease. No more tribal land, no more buffalo huntin’ land, just workin’ land. If the Injun don’t like that, too bad for him …

      "Bannister intends to destroy Indian life as we know it," Crook said. "I don’t think he hates the Indians – he’s a peculiar man – but he regards them as a threat to the security of this new state of his. Free spirits always bother men with rigid minds. The bad side of it is, there is nothing to stop him from destroying

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1