Clay knew that on the muddy street of this little town he would face the test he'd spent years preparing for - gunning down the only man he'd ever really wanted to kill. There was revenge in his heart and a price on his head. By now there were many notches on his gun - notches Clay had never wanted to put there. But each gunfight had proved the terrible speed of his draw; each death had brought him closer to his quarry. The trail was very warm now.
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