I have a complex relationship with Louis L'Amour—a blend of admiration and exasperation that reflects the dual nature of his legacy. My adopted paternal grandfather was a devoted fan, and our family would eagerly gift him his latest works for birthdays, Father’s Day, and Christmas, until declining eyesight curtailed his reading. After he passed, I found myself the custodian of not just his collection, but also a few titles from my late maternal grandmother. Over the years, I’ve amassed my own collection of L'Amour works, filling my shelves with almost every title he published. That’s the love part, or perhaps more accurately, the appreciation. Then comes the hate part: I believe Louis L'Amour is overrated. His books were omnipresent during my childhood, squeezing out shelf space in bookstores where other Western authors could have thrived. I understand the marketplace—demand shapes inventory—but it still frustrates me to see L'Amour’s name dominate as if no one else in the genre could compete. Sure, he crafted some notable stories, but to my mind, he was a master of the “pulp” short story. His talents shine brightest in shorter forms; as a novelist, he ranks merely above average. I respect his contributions and recognize his place in literary history, but I'd argue that Zane Grey is the true giant of Western fiction—that’s just my opinion. With that in mind, I'm returning to L'Amour's books, starting with Trouble Shooter.
Most L'Amour aficionados already know this, but for anyone who doesn’t: like many writers in this genre, L'Amour began his career crafting short stories for pulp magazines. By 1950, he earned recognition that led him to write new Hopalong Cassidy adventures for Hopalong Cassidy's Western Magazine, which eventually transitioned into published hardcovers. Initially, he based his first two books on the style of Clarence Mulford, the original author of Hopalong. However, when the magazine folded after just two issues, L'Amour had to overhaul these titles to align more closely with the sanitized cinematic version that dominated television and film at the time. He continued this adaptation for the subsequent books, ultimately publishing four volumes in total.
Trouble Shooter [*], published in 1951 under the pseudonym Tex Burns, marks the final chapter of L'Amour's Hopalong Cassidy saga. Though he never openly claimed authorship, he confided to his son Beau, “I just wrote them for hire. They weren’t my books.” It’s noteworthy that all four volumes were published posthumously under L'Amour’s own name.
The plot follows Hopalong Cassidy as he investigates a delayed letter from his longtime friend, cowpuncher Pete Melford. Arriving at the scene, he discovers that Pete's niece, Cindy Blair, has vanished without a trace. Hopalong may have reached Pete too late to offer help, but his unwavering sense of loyalty compels him to track down the cold-blooded killers and restore what has been unjustly taken from Cindy. Colonel Justin Tredway, the criminal overlord of the town of Kachina, has amassed his power through shrewd and ruthless means, now owning the sprawling Box T ranch. To uncover the truth behind Cindy's disappearance and Peter's murder, Hopalong takes on a job at the Box T, promising to help salvage Tredway’s wild cattle from the treacherous terrain. Yet, in the unforgiving land of mesquite and black chaparral, Cassidy stumbles upon a mystery as dark and enduring as the troubled souls who inhabit it—a bloody trail that leads to the ominous Babylon plateau, $60,000 in stolen gold, and a showdown with an outlaw who has already danced with death and intends to do so once more.
Reading Trouble Shooter [*] feels like engaging with a diluted version of Hopalong Cassidy, and I can sympathize with the frustrations L'Amour faced regarding the alterations imposed by Doubleday. Personally, I prefer Mulford's rougher, more authentic rendition of the character over the sanitization he underwent in films and TV adaptations—though that’s just my take. The story itself is engaging, although it occasionally drags in the middle; it reads more like a serial than a cohesive novel—that's the hallmark of L'Amour’s pulp roots rearing their head, and while it was enjoyable, it lacked the depth I often seek. The mystery intrigued me, though I predicted the twists early on, proving to be a bit too predictable for my liking. The pacing was generally solid, aside from that awkward midsection, but the characters largely felt flat, existing as mere archetypes rather than fully-realized individuals, except for Hopalong, who at least managed to be slightly more dynamic. The dialogue? A hurried blend of campy lines that mirrored the tone of Hopalong's film and TV adaptations. In the end, Trouble Shooter was an average read, engaging enough to keep me turning pages, yet ultimately devoid of lasting impact. ╌★★★✰✰
⁓B.J. Burgess




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“The plot thickens… especially when you comment.” 〜B.J. Burgess