Marshal of Sundown
About This Book
When Jim Torrance, riding up from the South, crested the live - oak - studded knoll from which he saw the rip - roaring little town of Sundown for the first time, the place looked as clean and pretty as a fresh picture, and as peaceful as the little dove cooing on a dead limb over his head. But that was because Sundown was still a good three miles away, and besides it was only mid - afternoon and not yet first - drink time.
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