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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.