WHERE THE REAL FRONTIER BEGINS A young cowpuncher stakes a claim that can only be sealed with fists and a .44 Colt. . . . A gunfighter, tired of violence, finds himself pushed down a trail of bloody revenge. . . . From purple sage to gambler’s gold, from a señorita’s tempting smile to a splash of blood in the dust, here are stories with a distinctive L’Amour twist. A quiet farmer defends his honor in a moment of panic and luck . . . only to find true courage on the run from the dead man’s brothers. A young drifter defends a lady’s honor . . . and finds himself the quarry of a hanging posse. An aging marshal with a reputation as a crack shot faces a stranger who knows his secret. With relentless suspense and unforgettable drama, Louis L’Amour once again paints a vivid portrait of our western heritage that will live forever. Where the real frontier begins... A young cowpuncher stakes a claim that can only be sealed with fists and a .44 Colt.... A gunfighter, tired of violence, finds himself pushed down a trail of bloody revenge.... From purple sage to gambler's gold, from a señorita's tempting smile to a splash of blood in the dust, here are stories with a distinctive L'Amour twist. A quiet farmer defends his honor in a moment of panic and luck...only to find true courage on the run from the dead man's brothers. A young drifter defends a lady's honor...and finds himself the quarry of a hanging posse. An aging marshal with a reputation as a crack shot faces a stranger who knows his secret. With relentless suspense and unforgettable drama, Louis L'Amour once again paints a vivid portrait of our western heritage that will live forever. Where the real frontier begins... A young cowpuncher stakes a claim that can only be sealed with fists and a .44 Colt.... A gunfighter, tired of violence, finds himself pushed down a trail of bloody revenge.... From purple sage to gambler's gold, from a senorita's tempting smile to a splash of blood in the dust, here are stories with a distinctive L'Amour twist. A quiet farmer defends his honor in a moment of panic and luck...only to find true courage on the run from the dead man's brothers. A young drifter defends a lady's honor...and finds himself the quarry of a hanging posse. An aging marshal with a reputation as a crack shot faces a stranger who knows his secret. With relentless suspense and unforgettable drama, Louis L'Amour once again paints a vivid portrait of our western heritage that will live forever. Our foremost storyteller of the American West,  Louis L’Amour  has thrilled a nation by chronicling the adventures of the brave men and woman who settled the frontier. There are more than three hundred million copies of his books in print around the world. Beyond the Chaparral   JIM ROSSITER LOOKED up as the boy came into the room. He smiled, a half-nostalgic smile, for this boy reminded him of himself…fifteen, no…twenty years ago.   “What is it, Mike?”   The boy’s eyes were worried. He hesitated, not wanting to tell what he had to tell, yet knowing with his boyish wisdom that it was better for Rossiter to hear it from him, now.   “Lonnie Parker’s back from prison.”   Jim Rossiter did not move for a long, long minute. “I see,” he said. “Thanks, Mike.”   When the boy had gone he got to his feet and walked to the window, watching Mike cross the street. It was not easy to grow up in a western town when one wanted the things Mike Hamlin wanted.   Mike Hamlin did not want to punch cows, to drive a freight wagon or a stage. He did not want to own a ranch or even be the town marshal. Mike was a dreamer, a thinker, a reader. He might be a young Shelley, a potential Calhoun. He was a boy born to thought, and that in a community where all the premiums were paid to action.   Jim Rossiter knew how it was with Mike, for Jim had been through it, too. He had fought this same battle, and had, after a fashion, won.   He had punched cows, all right. And for awhile he had driven a freight wagon. For a time he had been marshal of a trail town, but always with a book in his pocket. First it had been Plutarch—how many times had he read it? Then Plato, Thucydides, Shakespeare, and Shelley. The books had been given to him by a drunken remittance man, and he had passed them along to Mike. A drunken Englishman and Jim Rossiter, bearers of the torch. He smiled wryly at the thought.   But he had won.…He had gone east, had become a lawyer, had practiced there. However, memories of the land he left behind were always with him, the wide vistas, the battlements of the mesas, the vast towers of lonely cloud, the fringing pines…and the desert that gave so richly of its colors and its spaces.   So he had come back.   A scholar and a thinker in a land of action. A dreamer in a place of violence. He had returned because he loved the land. He stayed because he loved Magda Lane. That love, he had found, was one of the few things that gave his life any meaning.   And now Lonnie Pa