DAKOTA'S LAST STAND
There was a Law of the West that stuck in Dakota Tune's craw.
It wasn't on the books, it didn't have to be, for human envy and greed had made it more powerful than any written word.
The Law said the best way to brew a range war was to turn every outfit against its neighbor.
Someone had used it on Dakota before, had had him run out of San Saba with a price on his head for a sheriff-killing he didn't commit, had then picked up his land and fine cattle for the asking...
Now Dakota was in Oro Blanco, ramrod for green-eyed Larinda McClain's Clover Cross spread and trying to forget.
Only the Law wouldn't let him. Because it worked as well on one damned range as another.
Because that same someone-whoever he was behind the syndicate- was gunning for Dakota again!