Lawman, manhunter, peacemaker--it takes a hard breed of man to survive as a Texas Ranger, but Chick Bowdrie stands head and shoulder above the rest. The rough trails are his home, from the Big Thicket to the Pecos to the border. He's dried by the desert sun and wind, scarred and toughened by uncounted gun battles, and when you look into his black eyes it's like looking down the barrels of two .44s with their hammers drawn back. He rides in the name of justice, but he lives by his own law--Bowdrie's Law. And if you're thinking about walking on the wrong side of Bowdrie Law, you'd better start running. Fast.
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Flint led Nancy to talking of the ranch, and learned the whole story of her efforts to improve it. He was surprised by her appreciation of the grazing problem, and what she had done about it. One of her hands had been a German who remained at the ranch an entire summer making repairs in the house, building cabinets and furniture. He had told her about grazing methods in Germany and Switzerland, and from him she learned the use of spreader dams, dams built to spread the runoff from hillsides instead of letting it trickle away. Wells had been dug, seeps cleaned out, herds trimmed to avoid overgrazing.
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