Rutherford G. Montgomery (1894–1985)

Jerome Kildee retires from his monument sculpting business, builds a small house up against a redwood tree in the middle of the California acres he's purchased, and plans on living the life of of hermit/philosopher. He didn't count on becoming host to several families of racoons and skunks, nor did he foresee befriending young Emma Lou, his neighbor from down the hill, but when he does so, his quiet retirement turns into a bustling life full of new friends, and he decides that he doesn't show more mind the change in plans at all.
A sweet, cozy little story that makes living in a tiny cabin and cuddling up with a skunk seem not all that crazy, really. show less

Before Whitman published their Big Little Book line based on popular fictional characters from TV, comics, etc., they published full-sized books. These Whitman authorized editions were new adventures, not adaptations. My favorite aunt gave me a bunch of them when I was a girl in the 1960s and I've picked up a few more since. The Blue Streak and Doctor Medusa I bought in 1987. I've just now gotten around to reading it. Too bad I waited because this is an action-packed book.

We get part of the show more problem in chapter one when multi-millionaire John Marigold wants to hire the Blue Streak to save his also-rich niece, Bess, from making a fool of herself investing in some scheme of a man named Count Luggar. Marigold thinks every man has his price, but the Blue Streak isn't interested. He meets Bess and the Count on the way out. The count has a dapper little mustache and bothers to wax the ends into points. How suspicious! Bess is a gray-eyed blonde with an arrogant air. In all of the illustrations in which she appears she's dressed for riding so she's wearing a snood. From the neck up Bess looks as if she wandered over from Little Women. As we learn later though, she's not the type to swoon when she's in danger. She knows how to box!

The Blue Streak doesn't change his mind when he meets her. It takes a bullet hitting him in his bullet-proof vest to do that.

Doctor Medusa is Marigold's physician, despite his ominous name. We learn more about him in chapter two. His own gang members are cold-blooded killers, but they're afraid of him. His utter ruthlessness becomes clear when one of the gang asks a foolish question.

Marigold has been kidnapped by chapter three. The Blue Streak has a loyal mechanic for a sidekick. Hank O'Toole keeps his light plane and his speedster, the torpedo, going. (The torpedo can go over 100 mph -- almost 161 kph.) The Blue Streak and Hank take the torpedo to Count Luggar's lodge in the Skeleton Mountains, a place well known for people getting lost and never being seen again. There's an attempt to kill our heroes off before they even get there. Marigold is rescued, but Bess has been fool enough to be the Count's guest.

How will the Blue Streak infiltrate this den of evil? By lucky chance, a bond salesman heading to the lodge to make a big sale meets with an accident. By even luckier chance, his clothes fit our hero.

Bess likes the handsome 'Alan Gibbs' enough to irritate Count Luggar. Too bad that Luggar's enormous butler, Midge, fails to break 'Gibb's' neck. Now Luggar is forced to arrange a fatal hunting 'accident', not just for his rival but for Bess.

The Blue Streak and Bess survive. They have some bad moments in one of the Skeleton Mountains' many caves. We're also treated to a glimpse of Dr. Medusa's underground city and why his name is appropriate.
Dr. Medusa is a classic mad scientist. Even he knows he's certifiable. Love his tricks and traps.

The rescued get kidnapped again. There's more underground peril that nearly gets the Blue Streak and Hank killed. Can they save John and Bess Marigold from having their wealth and lives stolen? Will Dr. Medusa let himself be taken alive?

There is no explanation for why the Blue Streak is so strong, can see in the dark, and has superhuman hearing. His real name is never given. What we know of his background comes from the beginning of chapter three. He didn't inherit much money, but we're told he doesn't need much. Really? I think a man with a plane and a fancy car who can afford to dress as if he's wealthy, and to eat a thick steak in a fashionable nightclub while he's checking things out probably needs more than a little money. Still, that claim is more believable than this one from chapter four: 'His muscles tensed and bulged under the tight-fitting red trousers which allowed him full freedom of action.'

The Blue Streak might have been an original character. My old Whitman authorized editions usually stated what comic strip they're based on, but this one doesn't. It doesn't matter. I sure had fun with this book. I also like the illustrations, although the proportions sometimes seem a little off. I did find a short piece about an artist who might be the one who illustrated this book: http://www.lambiek.net/artists/k/kirn_francis.htm

I've seen a photo of this book without its dustjacket. It was dark green with red lettering. My copy's cover is dark brown with red lettering. I don't know if that means that mine is a later printing. show less

An older book I picked up secondhand somewhere. It's about horses that live on a cattle range in the southwest. In particular, one fine black mare owned by the ranch but allowed to run free on the range and an old squatter living in a cabin in the high country who admires her. The mare sometimes mixes with a band of wild horses. When she goes missing the squatter is accused of stealing her. Things happen, the mare goes off on her own and raises a colt in seclusion. Later the mare dies and show more the young horse grows up on his own, eventually challenging the stallion of the wild band, drawing attention of a ranch hand who recognizes he must be the offspring of the missing mare. This guy determines that catching the young stallion and showing it to the ranch owner will exonerate the squatter- plus acquiring himself a fine horse. His plan to catch the wild black horse does not turn out so easily.

I was skeptical of this story at first, but it turned out to be pretty good in the end. While it has a lot of vivid descriptions of the scenery, weather and interactions of various wildlife, much of the animal behavior is exaggerated or downright inaccurate and had me rolling my eyes. For example, wolves don't hamstring their prey, and the mating behavior of bears described in here made me laugh outright, it was so ludicrous. It's obviously written to be exciting for young readers, with a lot of vicious battles between wild animals for survival, and sensational scenes. The young black horse fights off (at different times) wolves, cougars and a bald eagle, survives an encounter with a bear, and battles another stallion on the edge of a cliff. But then many depictions of how the wild horses live, elk in the rutting season, mule deer interacting with the mare and her colt, are very nicely done. I really found the final third of the book more interesting, when the young stallion had taken over the band but obviously did not know how to lead the mares, and had to face his human opponent.

I happened to like the ending, particularly because it had some unexpected outcomes.

from the Dogear Diary show less

Like many of the genre, the story of Midnight starts before his birth or even conception, and lays the basis for a satisfying and entertaining read. We have the conflict between the squatter and the big rancher, the difference of ideals between the foreman and his boss, and the fascinating world of wildlife, which the author portrays so well, we could be there in the meadows and canyons of the North American southwest.

The author tells the stories of the animals in a way that is not often show more seen in this type of literature: frank and without romantic embellishment, letting us get a glimpse of the real wilderness and its inhabitants as they struggle to survive predators, weather, drought, and the preditations of man.

Never preachy, Rutherford Montgomery just tells us the way it is, and leaves us richer for the experience. show less