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Winky thought he'd seen everything in Wyoming Territory: rustlers, hangings, shoot-outs, cattle standing frozen stiff in the snow. Then into town one lazy day rode a long-haired kid and a colossal African mute. They were met in the saloon by Fiddler Jones, whose hair and temper flared like a wasps' nest. Fiddler's yellow eyes fell instantly in love with the kid's pouch of gold dust. That pouch was worth killing for.
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