He was a tall son—taller than most men by a head, with a look of wildness in his battered, tough face. He was Tom Buchanan out of West Texas, who fought with joy and loved with gusto—who many times had gone to meet death without pause and with great good nature. This time he took on the whole of Agry County and the violent bandit clan that ran it. It was no fight of his—but a girl had been violated and a family’s honor tarnished. So Buchanan settled his gunbelt and flexed his great hands and went surging into battle like a one-man troop of cavalry. And, by God, in the end there was left even to burn in Agrytown …