The first warning Bruce Powell got was a bullet screaming past his head from a high bank in the hills to his left.
“I’ve got fifty guns covering you!” roared Que Layton. “Ride back!”
Ride back—and leave Wirt Downer to drive his precious herd into this ambush? Ride back—when getting past these killers meant salvaging his dreams of owning a ranch? A sensible man would have turned tail and lived to fight another day. But Bruce Powell wasn't in the mood for sense—and all his time had run out. He’d get past Que Layton’s guns come hell or high water!
