Nine Lives West

They were drifters, cardsharps, cowboys, killers. Loners in dusty rawhide. A special breed of men. From the rolling hills of Minnesota to the sun-baked Texas desert, they faced the lances of the warring, fierce Arapahos. Dodged the bullets of Missouri gunslingers. Wooded the sweet and lonely dance-hall ladies. Made the up-creek cattle towns ring with the sounds of their Colt 45s. and Branded the praireies with the scars of their restless souls.