Paul Wellman knows his Kansas and gives the reader the feel of the plains, of the sky “the bowl of brass”, of the loneliness outside the tiny communities, and the bitter core within the communities themselves. This has the quality of catching the feel of the opening West... it has no specific characters or incidents associated with history, and yet there is a note of authority in his background of political shenanigans as the tiny town of Jericho through its “boss” makes a bid for county seat, for state official recognition, for railroad right of way. The story centers on an odd triangle situation,—there’s a lovely girl married to an old man, a skinflint who grinds every ounce possible out of his hired man—and eventually loses all in the process. A moving story with a somewhat sensational finale, but a good picture of the opening west ’round about 1880.
