Back in the winter of '77 I was deputying up in Two Scalp, Dakota Territory; waiting for my friend Clete Shannon--who was the Sheriff there at the time--to say the word for us to quit our jobs and head south...Being Clete's deputy give me mighty little to do but think things over, morning or night. Two Scalp's deader'n a sucker in a sandstorm. This lazy peace would not last. Willie Goodwin had seen a lot of life; he knew how the death wind could blow...
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Contemporary Fiction Genre Fiction Humanities Literature Literature & Fiction Westerns