Western Short Stories
William F. Stocks

Western Short Stories Bio. of William F. Stocks

William F. Stocks is a lifelong resident of Dixon, a small town located in the Little Snake River Valley of South Central Wyoming. He attended Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachusetts and Macalester College in St. Paul, Minnesota.

Now retired, he has held a variety of jobs over the years such as: ski bum, cowboy, sheep shearer, oilfield roustabout and production foreman. He is a longtime member of the Steamboat Writers Group in Steamboat Springs, Colorado. Writing has always been his passion and he is a published poet and former 1st place winner of the Traditional Poetry Category of the Wyoming Writer’s Inc. 2010 Writing Contest, with his poem “Depths of Reddest Heart”. That same year, he also received honorable mention for his poem “Remembering”.

His initial venture into the Western Writing genre is titled “Billy Browning-Bounty Hunter-The Shepherd’s Rest”, initially published on Rope and Wire.

Billy Browning-Bounty Hunter (#6)

Double Eleven Doubles Down

As I rode out of the Army Camp at Baggs Crossing, I asked the soldier on guard how to get to the Baggs Ranch and was informed it was back across the river and a little way West.

I arrived to find both George and Maggie Baggs working cattle they had been gathering since early morning. It was fall and that meant “shipping time”...  Read the full story HERE>>

Billy Browning-Bounty Hunter (#5)

Camp on the Snake River

The Perkins establishment was a combination store/trading post, saloon, boarding house, blacksmith/livery and leather shop, which gave the appearance of a small town but with its buildings kind of all stuck together. It was located on the North side of the Little Snake River near its confluence with Willow Creek, which came in from the South. I halted about a quarter mile away in some trees and scanned the comings and goings with my field glasses. Read the full story HERE>>

Billy Browning–Bounty Hunter (#4)

Hoss Thieves and Hair Branders

William F. Stocks

After seeing to Blackjack’s needs, I entered the warm Baker cabin which was two large rooms separated by a hanging buckskin partition that had been rolled up. It was clean and well kept. A bear hide as well as a large set of elk horns embellished the walls of the front room, where Jim sat in a rocking chair smoking a clay pipe. There were three young Indian women busying about, whom I assumed to be either wives or daughters. To my surprise, the table was set with fine china and the girls had prepared a hearty meal of stewed meat and vegetables, with fresh biscuits and coffee.  Read the full story HERE>>

Billy Browning-Bounty Hunter (#3)

Snakes on the Little Snake

William F. Stocks

Up at dawn after a shave and hot mineral bath the previous evening and with a good boarding house breakfast under my belt, I danced Blackjack south out of Warm Springs toward the Sierra Madre Mountains and Battle Pass, an old trail over the Divide between the Green River and Platte River drainages overlooking Battle Lake.  Read the full story HERE>>

Billy Browning-Bounty Hunter (#2)

Blackjack’s Run

William F. Stocks

Despite the horses’ best efforts to push it from daylight ‘til dark, when I finally delivered John Allard’s body back to Timber Springs, he was beyond “ripe”. The rattlesnake venom had accelerated his deterioration considerably. Needless to say, Enrique the Basque blacksmith/undertaker was not too pleased to receive him for final preparations. The local banking company Allard worked for was reserved, but grateful to be rid of such a malefactor and gave me a modest, though unheralded, payoff for bringing him in.  Read the full story HERE>>

Billy Browning - Bounty Hunter (#1)

The Shepherd’s Rest

By William F. Stocks

“I don’t know what the hell this is about, but make it fast,” barked Sheriff Martin. I got the judge waitin’ on me.”

“Name’s Billy. I’ve got Will Cates, I need to turn him in for the bounty,” I replied.

“Will Cates! How did you catch that no good bushwhacker?” he asked.

“I couldn’t catch him a’ horseback, so I did the next best thing. I caught him with a 45-70 slug at about 250 yards. He’s wanted dead or alive, on a federal warrant out of Fort Laramie,” I said, handing him the wanted poster. Read the full story HERE>>