Henry Starr was one of the most notorious criminals of the Old West, famed far and wide for robbing two banks in the same town at the same time—a feat even the Dalton Gang couldn’t pull off. Still, Henry Starr was a reluctant outlaw. An honest, hardworking seventeen-year-old Cherokee cowboy with a steady job and a steady girl, he was framed and arrested for a crime he didn’t commit. When he was falsely accused and convicted a second time, Starr figured that since he was branded a criminal, he might as well become one—and proceeded to make himself one of the most wanted men in the West. “If I’m going to have the name of a criminal, I might as well have the game,” he declared as he embarked on his life of crime. By the time he was through, he was said to have robbed more banks than any other man in history. From Henry Starr’s initiation as an outlaw, to a death sentence handed down by “Hanging Judge” Parker, to his final days playing the bad guy in Hollywood movies, The Saga of Henry Starr is a colorful retelling of a true Western legend.

Twenty-eight true tales of outlaws and bad men operating within the borders of Oklahoma between the 1870s and 1960s. Oklahoma has proven to be the crossroads for every generation of criminal gang activity. The exciting stories in this volume include the heroic actions by law enforcement to bring bandits, thieves, and murderers to justice, from �Black-faced Charley� Bryant to Bonnie and Clyde.

Growing up, Jerry Thompson knew only that his grandfather was a gritty, “mixed-blood” Cherokee cowboy named Joe Lynch Davis. That was all anyone cared to say about the man. But after Thompson’s mother died, the award-winning historian discovered a shoebox full of letters that held the key to a long-lost family history of passion, violence, and despair. Wrecked Lives and Lost Souls, the result of Thompson’s sleuthing into his family’s past, uncovers the lawless life and times of a man at the center of systematic cattle rustling, feuding, gun battles, a bloody range war, bank robberies, and train heists in early 1900s Indian Territory and Oklahoma. Through painstaking detective work into archival sources, newspaper accounts, and court proceedings, and via numerous interviews, Thompson pieces together not only the story of his grandfather—and a long-forgotten gang of outlaws to rival the infamous Younger brothers—but also the dark path of a Cherokee diaspora from Georgia to Indian Territory. Davis, born in 1891, grew up on a family ranch on the Canadian River, outside the small community of Porum in the Cherokee Nation. The range was being fenced, and for the Davis family and others, cattle rustling was part of a way of life—a habit that ultimately spilled over into violence and murder. The story “goes way back to the wild & wooly cattle days of the west,” an aunt wrote to Thompson’s mother, “when there was cattle rustling, bank robberies & feuding.” One of these feuds—that Joe Davis was “raised right into”—was the decade-long Porum Range War, which culminated in the murder of Davis’s uncle in 1907. In fleshing out the details of the range war and his grandfather’s life, Thompson brings to light the brutality and far-reaching consequences of an obscure chapter in the history of the American West.

This true crime history of the American Frontier separates fact from fiction with in-depth profiles of thirty-eight career criminals and infamous outlaw gangs. In the years following the American Civil War, the country’s western frontier was home to a prodigious number of myth-making cowboys, infamous gunslingers, saloon madams, and not always law-abiding lawmen. But the romantic mystique of these individuals and the time in which they lives is largely the product of novelists and filmmakers. In Outlaws of the Wild West, Terry Treadwell presents the real stories behind such legends as Billy the Kid, Butch Cassidy, the Dalton Brothers, and others—as well as their lesser-known but equally criminal peers. Here are the stories of William Clark Quantrill and his Confederate Army unit, Quantrill’s Raiders, who turned hit-and-run raids into a way of life; Henry Starr, the Native American career criminal who went on to play himself in the movie of his life; Ann and Josie Bassett, the sisters who defended their ranch from cattle barons with the help of Butch Cassidy and the Wild Bunch; and many more.

Conley has compiled a guide to historical and contemporary members of the Cherokee tribe and their roles in their clans and nations.

This book explores in depth the origins, development, and prospects of outlawry and of the relationship of outlaws to the social conditions of changing times. Throughout American history you will find larger-than-life brigands in every period and every region. Often, because we hunger for simple justice, we romanticize them to the point of being unable to separate fact from fiction. Frank Richard Prassel brings this home in a thorough and fascinating examination of the concept of outlawry from Robin Hood, Dick Turpin, and Blackbeard through Jean Lafitte, Pancho Villa, and Billy the Kid to more modern personalities such as John Dillinger, Claude Dallas, and D. B. Cooper. A separate chapter on molls, plus equal treatment in the histories of gangs, traces women's involvement in outlaw activities. Prassel covers the folklore as well as the facts, even including an appendix of ballads by and about outlaws. He makes clear how this motley group of bandits, pirates, highwaymen, desperadoes, rebels, hoodlums, renegades, gangsters, and fugitives—who stand tall in myth—wither in the light of truth, but flourish in the movies. As he tells the stories, there is little to confirm that Jesse and Frank James, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, the Daltons, Pretty Boy Floyd, Ma Barker, Clyde Barrow and Bonnie Parker, Belle Starr, the Apache Kid, or any of the so-called good badmen, did anything that did not enrich or otherwise benefit themselves. But there is plenty of evidence, in the form of slain victims and ruined lives, to show how many ways they caused harm. The Great American Outlaw is as much an excellent survey on the phenomenon as it is a brilliant exposition of the larger than-life figures who created it. Above all, it is a tribute to that aspect of humanity that Americans admire most and that Prassel describes as a willingness "to fight, however hopelessly, against exhibitions of privilege."