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"Isom Dart and an Assortment Of Scoundrels"

Excerpt . . .

   Rifle shots split the cool night air.  A brief pause, then more shots.

   Ned Huddleston, a half-mile away, could hear the gunfire.  He quickly and quietly finished digging the grave for his fallen companion, Joe Pease.  The shots could mean only one thing; his rustling partners had been ambushed.  He was lucky to be away from the rest of the gang.



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Or was he?  He had left his guns and horse back at the outlaw camp.  He was unarmed except for a small knife and a shovel.  He did have some food and water and whiskey.

   Ned wanted to escape.  But how?  He was on foot in unfamiliar country at night.  It was many sagebrush-covered miles to the nearest road.  His only hope was that his presence was unknown by the gunmen.

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