Just a word with the reader in finishing this book. Not by way of apology or explanation, but as a general adieu. Certainly we feel that the stories as here given explain themselves, and we believe that the reader, will agree with the writer, after perusing the volume from beginning to end, that he has gotten the worth of his money. Hence no apology is necessary. It is true that the cases here related have not been drawn out as is the custom with some detectives who write books, but this neglect, if such it may be termed, has been intentional. It is not believed that the western reader has time to pore over small details, or that he cares to know of every step of the detectives, whose personal conduct outside of their real accomplishments in the line in which they may be operating is of no consequence to any one but themselves. Hence this book has not dealt with all the little operations of the detectives who figure in its pages. Its aim has been to present the material and important facts, and to picture the criminal as well as the officer.

The criminal of the Far West is a man who displays himself most thoroughly in times of emergency. It is when he comes face to face with the officer that he is desperate and difficult to deal with. He will always fight, and the officer who hunts him down may in four cases out of five count upon having to take his man at the muzzle of his revolver. It is this fact which makes the western narrative of more thrilling interest than that of the more conservative eastern localities. It is also this fact which increases the danger and hardship of a detective’s life in the West. The detective of the Rocky mountains, and of the plains which stretch out to the great rivers in the middle of the continent, must be a man possessed not alone of a keen capacity for hunting down criminals, but must have the courage to face such criminal when taken, and to risk his life in hand-to-hand combat when his man is come upon. But it would seem unnecessary to dwell upon this fact for the benefit of the reader of this volume. It speaks for itself. There is hardly a story of the number told which does not bear out this assertion. There are very few captures here reported which have not been made by officers who risked their own lives in making them. There are some cases in which men made such resistance as to require that they be shot down in their tracks, and in some cases it has been the sad duty to chronicle the killing of efficient and faithful officers by these desperadoes. As a class, however, Gen. Cook’s men have proved quite capable of taking care of themselves, while his own escape from the desperado’s bullet, during his thirty-five years of active detective life on the border, has been little less than marvelous. It can be accounted for only upon the ground that he is shrewd enough to detect many difficulties before they arise, courageous enough to meet them promptly when they do come, and cool and skillful enough to give them better than they send when the emergency arises. It thus happens that he is alive and prosperous, after serving thirty-five years of detective life on the border, when nearly all of his old-time companions are dead. He has also trained his men so thoroughly that they have learned to protect themselves.

But the record here presented is not merely one of daring and adventure. It is one of hardships and great personal sacrifice as well. It will appear in many of the stories told that the events related occurred at a time when there were no railroads in the country. Gen. Cook and his officers have, since the time when he first settled in Colorado, traversed almost the entire barren plains and Rocky mountains from Northern Dakota to Southwestern Texas, climbing precipices, stage-coaching, horseback riding and walking; sleeping out for several nights in succession, subsisting for days on the scantiest supply of food, and often going from sixty to seventy-two hours without sleep; facing the worst of storms, and, indeed, enduring all the privations of frontier life, where there are few people, fewer accommodations and much that is trying upon mind and body. Any one of the trips, such as those recorded of Gen. Cook in the Britt and Hilligoss or Clodfelter and Johnson story, would be sufficient to use up an ordinary individual, and many would be entirely unable to endure it. Yet Gen. Cook has put in thirty-five years in just such service, ever mindful of the public welfare and forgetful of his own comfort and quiet; ever anxious to bring the guilty to punishment and to free the country of the human vultures who prey upon it, regardless of his own private well-being, and in many cases without hope of reward or appreciation. That he has in his day done a grand service for the people of the state in making it a place disagreeable and dangerous to evil-doers is a truth which many appreciate. His services have ever been at the command of the people among whom he lives, and the stories here told—only a portion of those which might be related—best attest that when he has acted he has done so in a way to make the work count.