Fury at Troon's Ferry
Darkness was taking hold as he strode purposefully up the street. The
air was cold, bringing a shiver to his spine and all the stores were
closed and the sidewalks quiet. The only sounds came from the saloon;
the desultory notes of a piano, the clink of glasses, the raucous voices
of men and the shrill laughter of women. His wife, Leah, had once told
him that nothing was achieved by violence. Now he was convinced that
she'd been wrong. The desire to inflict vengeance brought the bitter
taste of bile to his mouth. Before bullets started flying, as surely
they must, would he be able to extract the truth from the man he
sought...and despised?
