“Flying 'Y' is on the loose !"

The rallying cry came from the husky throats of bullwhackers, mule skinners, buffalo hunters, and cattle men. They poured into the square beside the jail, their guns blazing as they came, spoiling for blood.

Then-into their midst leaped a wiry six feet of maniacal frenzy. Filled with an anger that had burned for twenty years young Hornaby had come into his own.