"With <i>The Virginian</i>, Owen Wister, a frustrated composer, can be said to have fathered the western. This Horatio Alger story set on the open range chronicles the adventures of a principled cowboy known only as “the Virginian,” who brings progress and justice to an untamed Wyoming in the 1890s. His virility is a central motif: "In his eye, in his face, in his step, in the whole man, there dominated a something potent to be felt." The book's vision of the cowboy era is indisputably idealized but no less enjoyable for that. Wister's evocations of the landscape are lyrical. "After the fields to the east, the tawny plain began; and with one faint furrow of river lining its undulations, it stretched beyond sight." Not unexpectedly, the story has its enemy of the good—a murderous cowboy outlaw, Trampas, who despises the Virginian and stalks about threateningly, shadowing the action, until the inevitable face-off at the end. The walk-and-draw finale at sundown will be the Virginian's final test of courage: "A wind seemed to blow his sleeve off his arm, and he replied to it.""—<i>Wall Street Journal</i>