A bushwhacker ranks just below a rattlesnake in the Gunsmith's eyes. And a bushwhacker who'd let a woman rot in jail for his crime doesn't deserve the ground it takes to bury him in.
That's just the kind of low-down varmint Clint Adams finds when he rides into Deadwood. Now it's up to the Gunsmith to smoke him out, and to do it, he makes himself the prime target. It's a plan that has to work—or Clint won't live to tell the tale...
Less
Reflow text when sidebars are open.
