“COME OUT OF THAT SHACK, LITTON!”

Barry Litton lay on the earthen floor of the shack with a bullet in his ribs. Outside, gun in hand, waited his old enemy—the hired killer Rann Duval.

Duval laughed mockingly. “Litton. I’ve got you trapped. Are you coming out?”

Painfully, Barry got to his feet. “I’m ready, Duval.” Then, blood-soaked and exhausted, he stepped into the moonlight, six-gun cocked, ready to kill or be killed.—Back Cover.