Darby Buckingham was an unlikely candidate for frontier life. From his round-toed shoes to his derby hat, he was a man of culture, a creature of comfort, who liked his gourmet restaurants and expensive cigars. The short, stocky New Yorker made a fortune writing dime novels about the old west. Now he was out west to do some research for his next novel, little suspecting that he would be joining sheriff Zeb Cather in a manhunt for the ruthless Raton Brothers, learning firsthand about frontier justice and frontier heroism.