The High Graders by Louis L’Amour (1965)

In my most recent review of a Louis L’Amour novel, Brionne (1968), I said that it felt like his books just kept getting better and better—that is, in the order I’ve been reading them as a relative newbie, not in his order of publication. I also noted that this couldn’t possibly be sustainable.

I was right. The High Graders is thus far my least-favorite Louis L’Amour novel (which doesn’t mean it was terrible), and that feeling stems from both characterization and one major missed opportunity.

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Brief Summary of The High Graders

The story opens with Mike Shevlin sorrowing over the grave of an old man named Eli. We come to find out (with a backstory chapter like in The Iron Marshall) that Eli was a sort of father figure to Mike long ago, though the passing years have kept them apart. Fact is, Eli was murdered, and there don’t seem to be nobody that cares to find the killer. Except Mike.

As Shevlin settles into this tiny forgotten town, he makes more enemies than friends and comes to realize that the whole place is under some sort of spell—a spell that keeps even the honest folk quiet about all the thieving that’s been going on. Specifically the town-wide thievery at work is “high grading,” which L’Amour conveniently defines and expounds upon for us:

High-grading, the stealing of rich ore from a mine or smelter, was always difficult to control. Opening a change room where the miners changed from their digging clothes to their outside clothes could stop some of it, and checking lunchboxes or canteens could, too, but where there was high-grade ore there would always be ways to steal it. (23)

Since everyone in town seems to be on the take in one way or another, Shevlin has no way to know whom he can trust and which faction was part of his friend Eli’s murder. And this begins his slow, methodical search through the region for friends and foes alike.

Some Pick-ups and Some Let-downs

The mystery aspect of this book is what kept me going, though I’ll admit that there were a few too many names to keep track of from the get-go. As someone who loves treasure hunting though—including fantasizing about gold mining if not ever actually doing it—I enjoyed the few short scenes that describe Shevlin doing some grunt work for a local miner. This line here is spot on:

[Mike Shevlin] had always rather liked working with a shovel; it had the advantage of giving a man time to think, and he had a lot of that to do. (42)

But what annoyed me most about this story—and I don’t normally do this, but spoiler alert—is the assassin meeting his demise without barely an effort on Shevlin’s part. For several chapters, there’s a heartless, professional killer on his trail, and the suspense mounts, the type of suspense that can really buoy a story like this.

And then, quite suddenly, he’s dead without much struggle or fanfare and with so much more of the book left to read. It was such a great yet wasted character and story element, I thought: “Louis, you’re better than that!”

Corruption and Law

It also seems that virtually everyone in this book is corrupt in some way, including Shevlin himself. As far as I can tell, that’s abnormal in L’Amour’s writings. Even those folks that eventually join Shevlin in his hunt for the killer do so more out of self-preservation than courage or honor. It made it so I couldn’t attach myself emotionally to any character, which was another personal letdown.

There were a few moments, however, when Louis provided his own, familiar commentary about the West—lawless now, but with change a’coming. About this status in the late 19th century and coming changing tides, L’Amour writes:

We’re not a complicated folk. If a man wants to be bad or mean out here in the West, there’s not much to stop him if he’s big enough and tough enough to get away with it. On the other hand, if a man is honest it is because he wants to be. It isn’t like back east, where there’s the law and all. Out here there’s mighty little gray, it is black or white, because there’s no restraint, not even much in the way of public opinion–except as to cowardice or the value of a man’s word. (69)

The law is coming to this country, and the sooner the better. Men can’t live without law, and each of us should do his part to help the men who enforce it. After all, they are our servants, and without them we’d live in anarchy. Take it from me, because I’ve seen it both ways. (129)

Conclusion

As disappointing as this story was in some ways—and although it may seem like I’ve trashed the tar out of it in this review—The High Graders is still a Louis L’Amour novel and worth reading and enjoying as such. Compared to the other Western authors I’ve tried, there’s simply no comparison.

In fact, I quite enjoyed his closing paragraphs here, where folks return to the region some 70 years later to ask about the events depicted in this book. When no one in the area has even heard of the town described or the people who’d lived there, we’re reminded of all that’s been forgotten in human history.

It’s not that unbelievable, considering the movements of the Pioneer West, that such a story as this, a mere snippet of history, could have happened and then have been forgotten. So whether it’s true not really doesn’t matter. So many lives have come and gone and been forgotten, that when Louis L’Amour raises a few from the dead for their moment of tiny glory, it’s as if a few lost lives have been resurrected and preserved.

There’s a sense of justice in that, and I think that’s while I’ll keep reading.

©2026 E.T.

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