When a man's cattle are threatened, he's got no choice but to fight. Ben Hayes had been waiting for the moment he would catch the thieves who wanted to take away his livelihood. Now here he was, riding out of the trees at a dead gallop, heading for the edge of the badlands. Ahead in the distance he could see a vague, shadowy mass that could only be running cattle. Dark shapes lay scattered on the grass. To his right, at least a dozen riders silhouetted in the night, were veering back and forth, shooting into the fleeing herd. Ben had no choice but to fire directly at the riders.