By Matthew P. Mayo

Everyone loves a heel, particularly one to whom not anything was once sacred and who charmed his or her approach into the hearts, minds, and wallets of bumpkins and belles alike. Hornswogglers, Fourflushers, and Snake-Oil Salesmen offers dozens of stories of petty bandits, sleazy bunko artists, and conniving conmen (and conwomen!) who traveled West to hunt their fortunes by way of preying on those that went ahead of them to settle and explore. 
Hornswogglers, Fourflushers, and Snake-Oil Salesmen tells who those nefarious ne'er-do-wells have been, what they did, and why they're remembered, and every bankruptcy is illustrated with attractive ancient images and illustrations of the shady characters at paintings and play. 
Caution: Lock up your pockets earlier than reading!

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I couldn’t bring up conceal nor hair of attempt out of these lily-livered so-called associates of mine. good, ol’ Martin Sublette—you remember him, don’t you? good, Marty, he lent a hand. I’ll admit he used to be much less of a cringing babe than the remaining. So I had them fetch me a butchering knife and that i began to chop off my leg as neat as i may muster. I handed out two times, they revived me, and that i started working back. Blood used to be a-squirting all over, the bone stored poking at me, slowing my development, yet I bought her reduce fresh via. Then we swaddled it up in wonderful form and that i set to ingesting to take the fiery facet off the location. Now boy, you glance plumb skeptical, yet I inform you now that used to be the reality. however the deal was once faraway from over. the men eventually lent a hand and yarned me overland to our wintry weather hidey-hole alongside the golf green River. “Once she started out to heal, she pained me anything lousy. I needed to rub it with endure grease and a hot-tempered liniment simply to maintain it from waking me in the midst of the evening with chills and howls. ultimately I felt round there with my hands and located I’d now not gotten all of the bones out of there, so Sublette grabbed carry of them with a bullet mold—don’t inform me you don’t recognize what that is—and tugged and dragged and approximately upended me, yet we received ’em out. path she began to bleed back. “But my girl, a Flathead, with the best set of . . . oh you by no means brain that now, she had her Injun methods and ability and herbs and tinctures and she’d exit collecting roots and berries and leaves and grind ’em and warmth ’em and combine ’em with this and that—family secrets and techniques you know—and quickly sufficient i used to be to be able to therapeutic once more. ultimately, alongside approximately springtime, simply in time to started working back, I had carved a good stomper for myself out of a size of firewood. Strapped it on and that i by no means appeared again. Even rigged up a unique stirrup for my saddle, I did. Now, is that whatever guy may simply make up, I ask you? Naw, I’ll resolution for you, boy, naw, I say! ” “I heard you furthermore may, ah . . . ” “Out with it, boy. You won’t get at any place in lifestyles should you don’t provide complete vent on your techniques and evaluations. in case you can offend me, why I’ll consume this right here beaver hat. ” He thumped the battered topper resting like a lopsided previous fungus atop his balding head. “Okay then,” the younger journalist cleared his throat. maybe emboldened by means of the whiskey and his companion’s more and more chatty habit, he requested the query he’d been loss of life to invite for hours. “I’ve heard you—remember you instructed me i'll say whatever to you, now! ” He smirked and held up a finger in semi-comedic caution. “It’s again to my query of prior: I heard you stole little ones from Indians and bought them as slaves to Mexicans. And moreover . . . ,” he quick gulped down the final of the fiery whiskey. “I was once additionally instructed that you've stolen extra horses than any guy alive. ” “Well now,” acknowledged Pegleg, puffing up and never taking a look indignant in the slightest degree. “As to the latter accusation, I’ll gladly admit that there's now not, nor has been, nor ever could be a guy who has liberated as many horses because the very guy you're looking at correct this minute, kid!

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