Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, The: A Novel (P.S.)

Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, The: A Novel (P.S.)

Ron Hansen

Language: English

Pages: 304

ISBN: 0061120197

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Jesse James was a fabled outlaw, a charismatic, spiritual, larger-than-life bad man whose bloody exploits captured the imagination and admiration of a nation hungry for antiheroes. Robert Ford was a young upstart torn between dedicated worship and murderous jealousy, the "dirty little coward" who coveted Jesse's legend. The powerful, strange, and unforgettable story of their interweaving paths—and twin destinies that would collide in a rain of blood and betrayal—is a story of America in all her rough, conflicted glory and the myths that made her.

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bed and crying in her hands. Her calico dress was streaked with blood and was redly saturated in the middle and hem. A fat woman sat with a sweatered arm over the widow’s shoulders, and a girl of twelve was crouched with the children. Zee looked to John Leonard and realized he was recording whatever he saw. She pleaded, “Oh, please don’t put this in the paper,” and Leonard said, “I’m afraid that’s my job.” The coroner came to the door and asked, “What’s your name, madame?” “Mrs. Howard,” she

lacerating; his eye sockets were as deep and dark as fistholes in snow, his gums were strangely purple, he wore extravagant gold rings on every finger and a clove of garlic around his neck according to the guidance of a gypsy named Madame Africa. Bob was skinny, sallow, peevish, his complexion spoiled with so many pimples that some correspondents thought it was measles. He was beleaguered in Plattsburg, cornered in strange rooms, gracelessly stalked and surrounded on sidewalks, greedily nagged

inside the room and subside again, lightly tapping the sill. Bob said he thought he would go for the mail; Dorothy thought she would stay inside with her sewing and magazines. She said, “You were right not to give her a job,” and Bob went out without saying goodbye. Dorothy Evans would be married in 1900 to a Mr. James Feeney of Durango, Colorado. She would adopt two daughters, one of them nearly deaf, and, according to gossip, she would mistreat them. Her legal marriage would be no more joyous

Charley said, “Bob isn’t much more than a boy to most appearances, but there’s about two tons of sand in him and he’ll stand with his shooter when that’s what’s called for. And he’s smart too—he’s about as intricate as they come.” “You’re forgetting that I’ve already met the kid.” “He surely thinks highly of you.” “All America thinks highly of me.” “Still. It’s not like you’ve got two million names you can snatch out of a sock whenever you need a third man. I mean, who else is there that

screen door and swinging the girl around so wildly her right stockinged foot lost its shoe. Zee called everyone in to a breakfast that was cooling and Mary hugged her father’s neck as he gracefully walked to the dining room. Tim carelessly threw down the rolled newspapers in the sitting room and climbed up next to his sister’s highchair. Bob slit open a brown paper sleeve and spilled out the Kansas City Times, seeing instantly a story about the arrest and confession of Dick Liddil. Charley

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