![]() ![]() ![]() In “Another Man’s Moccasins,” Johnson flashes back and forth between present-day Wyoming - the setting for all four of his novels - and LBJ-era Vietnam, where Johnson’s protagonist, Sheriff Walt Longmire, once served as a Marine investigator during the war. He’s got a few choice factoids on Lyndon B. Passing a photo of Bat Masterson, Johnson, 47, reels off the titles of some of the dime novels that the famed western crime-fighter wrote. Suddenly, Johnson is dropping little nuggets of historical information like a docent. ![]() That is, until he goes inside the museum and wanders around its latest exhibit on presidents and cowboys. If you didn’t know that Johnson was a rising star in the crime novel genre, you might mistake the guileless rancher for a hayseed agog in the big city. ![]() Spotting his interlocutor, Johnson sticks out his hand and delivers a booming “How ya doin’?!” This is the same Marlboro Man who squints at readers from the window of a beat-up junker truck on the jackets of his four novels, which includes the recently released “Another Man’s Moccasins.” Standing outside the Autry National Center on a boiling summer afternoon, the Wyoming-based crime novelist is decked out in a long-sleeve shirt made of heavy cotton, scuffed brown boots and a 10-gallon hat that provides shade, but not nearly enough. ![]()
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