Sixguns, Salvation…and Sin by Fred Gipson
Native Texan Frederick Benjamin Gipson was 34 years old when he published “Sixguns, Salvation…and Sin,” but his best days were still ahead of him. He published his first full length novel in 1946 and is most famous for Old Yeller, a book he wrote ten years later. Old Yeller won the Newberry Award and was made into a well known 1957 Disney movie.
For the July 1942 issue of 10 Story Western, he contributed a light-hearted story with a progressive hero unlike any other in the volume. Rather than the traditional blood n’ thunder trail boss, tired law man, or humorous doofus, Turp Sanders is a han’sum wise-ass that reminded me of Paul Newman in the ‘60’s or Burt Reynolds in the ‘70’s.
Sanders is riding a fine horse and a streak of luck east out of California when he runs into a tattered trio of slack jawed hangmen trying to string up a teen-age button. All four can’t help but gape at the evidence of Sander’s recent fortune:
Silver inlaid drop-shanked spurs jingled at his boot heels. Bright metal conchas glittered from the curly hair of his chaparejos. At his hip hung a Colt .45, silver plated and chased with gold. Its handle was pearl with a bull’s head carved on. Topped off by a good hat, Turp blazed in the sunlight like a jewel.
Surprising himself as much as the vigilantes, Sanders rescues the kid, but gets no gratitude for it. In fact, after the two mount up and blaze a trail away from the necktie party, the wary teen pulls his Winchester, ditches his worn out sorrel, and gallops away on Turp’s spirited bay.
In Chapter Two, Turp rides the deadhead horse across an open range where he encounters a bunch of broomtail mares and colts, a high-headed grulla dun stallion among them. For two pages Gipson describes Sanders’ efforts at taming the half wild horse, and it’s clear the writer was not only enjoying his own story, but enjoyed showing off his equestrian knowledge as well.
While weighing his chances with the grulla dun, Turp looked over the kid’s saddle and located a fairly long piece of hackamore rope. It was short for roping, but he thought he could make out. He knotted a hondo in the end, and ran out a loop that took all but a foot of the short rope. He approached the outlaw warily. The dun struck at him a second time, and Turp stuck his loop on the swishing fore-feet.
Sanders rides the dun to the banks of the San Saba river where he discovers a ranch house perched high on a grassy knoll. Further investigation reveals his California bay living in a slab-rock corral just across the water. Spurred ahead by heedless anger, Sanders gets tangled up in a trout line, tumbles into the rocky brine, and is knocked senseless. Rescued in Chapter Three by a redneck named Judy Adams (“Ain’t he purty, Mom?” the girl marveled.) Sanders is taken in by Mom Adams, Judy, and Buckshot, the kid he saved from the rope.
It turns out they recognized the horse.
“Take a look at that dun horse this young man’s riding. That’s old Jug Head, the horse your pa rode the circuit and saved souls from hell with. That outlaw horse’s been running loose for bettern’n three months now. Since your pa drunk himself to death. On account of there ain’t another man on the San Saba what can stick on him long enough to leave his spur tracks in the saddle, showing he’s been there.”
Buckshot’s trouble with the hang rope centers around a gold cache hidden on the property by his grandfather, old Mill Wheel Bosdick. The vigilantes are the dubiously named Rod Wheeler and the Shirley Brothers (Weren’t they in Smokey and the Bandit III?) and their intention was to scare Buckshot into giving up the treasure’s hiding place.
Chapter Four opens with Wheeler himself walking out from behind the house, a rifle aimed at Sanders and the family. Wheeler thinks the gold is hidden in a storm cellar and the brothers aim to see Ma Adams and her kin dig it up. Naturally, the tables are turned on the would be thieves (in no small part due to the timely arrival of Pa Bosdick’s old chum, Big Matt Shannon) and they end up on boot hill. Sanders is wounded and, as in the previous story, regains consciousness for the snappy finale.
Turp’s head was still in a whirl. And he wasn’t sure that he could blame it altogether on the gun wound in the top of his head. He stared at Judy Adams till her chin lost its firmness and began to tremble. “I’ll show you how to rig up a trot-line,” she implored. “I’ll –I’ll even wear shoes!”
Turp’s confidence leaped to the top of the ladder and beat its chest, challenging the world. He was twenty-one years old. He rode a good horse and owned a fancy rig. He was the best bronc-peeler on the San Saba, and he had a girl willing to wear shoes for him. He grinned at Judy Adams.
Hey, it doesn’t get any better than that.
Next up, yet another Novelette: Wilderness Partners by John Starr
on November 27, 2009 at 8:02 am
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Fred Gipson is a good example of the hidden treasures in the pulps. He eventually went on to be a best selling author but he got his start in the pulp westerns. Many of his stories are not the usual action packed six gun shooting blowouts. There were plenty of stories where alot of people got killed but Gipson wrote about the more believable aspects of the west and he wrote with style and humor.
on November 27, 2009 at 9:06 am
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I hadn’t thought of this writer in awhile. And you’re right that it doesn’t get much better. Terrific excerpts.Thanks.
on November 27, 2009 at 11:50 am
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Several years ago I had some discussions with a university press publisher about editing a collection of Gipson’s pulp stories, but as with most projects that get discussed, nothing ever came of it. He’s definitely a prime candidate for a revival of interest in his work.
on November 27, 2009 at 4:34 pm
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A gal who’ll wear shoes. Who could ask for anything more?