The hangman’s rope! Jared Hawk stank of death. It hung about him like gunsmoke and the sour smell of drying blood. He thought he’d take life easy for a while: enjoy whisky and women and nothing more. Leave his Colt .45 in its greased holster. But things turned bad and he took a job riding herd on a prisoner due to be hanged. It should have been simple... Before Hawk could earn his four hundred dollars and the hangman could settle his rope around the killer’s neck, Hawk’s gun was back in action and the stench of death hung in the air.