Adam Steele was doing the shopping. The girl, blonde and bright, checked off the rest of his list and started packing it all away in a gunny sack. The old man, her grandfather, looked proudly down at her as he rummaged around on a high shelf at the back of the little general store. Then brought out the special offer that might tempt the stranger who'd just ridden into the small town of Barclay, Texas.
One 9mm Belgian Lefaucheux revolver, finely engraved ... His sales pitch was interrupted.
Three new customers who burst in and weren't about to wait their turn to be served. Who weren't armed with shopping lists but with guns. Who wanted not provisions but money and didn't aim to pay but to kill.
Three masked men who didn't know that Steele was not a man to interrupt when he was going about his domestic chores.