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He rode into Rawdon with the look of a hunter ... a tall man sitting loosely in the saddle with eight hundred miles of trail dust on him. He had come to kill a gun named Fogarty. When that was done there was the matter of his brother's ranch, of the beautiful woman who ran it now, and of the son of a reptile who ramrodded her crew.
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Feedback?December 9, 2022 | Edited by ImportBot | import existing book |
December 17, 2019 | Created by ImportBot | import new book |