Apr 29, 1130am ~~ Ronicky Doone is supposed to be one of Max Brand's most famous characters, according to what I have read. But while this book started off promising, it fell apart for me pretty quickly.
In the first chapter Ronicky Doone meets Bill Gregg, who has borrowed Doone's horse in a desperate attempt to get to the Stillwater railroad station before the train arrives. He has just minutes left and has already ruined three horses in the attempt. We don't know why he needs to meet the train, all we know is that he MUST get there, and he took the horse without permission.
Not a polite thing to do in the West, and Ronicky Doone shoots him in the leg for it, thus causing Gregg to miss the train and apparently ruining his life. But oddly enough they become great friends and when Doone hears the why of the horse borrowing, he swears to help Bill.
So the two new besties go to New York City on a grand quest to find the person Gregg had planned to meet at Stillwater. Can they do it? What else will they find while they are in 'civilization'?
At first I paid attention to see how Brand handled the country hicks in the big city idea, but I was not interested enough to pay attention throughout the whole book so I just skimmed through for the highlights. I kind of liked Doone as a character, but I think I would have enjoyed him more in his natural habitat.
This was a 1995 edition of a story which was originally published in 1921. And once again the cover art had nothing at all to do with the story. How did the editors decide to illustrate a book set in New York City with a scene of a rugged cowboy leading a herd of cattle through a blizzard? Ronicky Doone would never have done that anyway. He was a gambler, not a cowman. He kept his hands soft and delicate in order to handle the cards properly. Never in a million years would I imagine RD in a blizzard with cattle.
Since I began keeping track of such trivia, this makes three covers that don't match the stories in the books. The rest of my Brand books in print are all hardbacks. I don't know if I will get to whine about this little pet peeve again, but we'll see the next time I head out West.