Jack Grice had spent his life running. He grew up at a wild time and did what he had to do to survive. The law took one view of it; he took another. And the law wouldn’t get off his back. He did time, broke out of prison. He went north, hoping to leave the past behind. But the past followed him. And now there were murder charges. Whichever way he turned, trouble was right there. This is his account of what happened.
Jack was born in Charleston in 1861. His parents died early of cholera and his guardian died when he was fifteen, leaving him penniless and alone. He went west and got work as a cattle drover. He shot an outlaw who was trying to rob him. Another outlaw, named Ibbetson, got away alive.
Later, he ran across a cowboy called Skeeter on a cattle drive. They met again in a saloon and Skeeter asked him to help drive a herd of horses. Jack didn’t know they were stolen. He was arrested, went to jail. During his trial, he broke out of the courthouse with another inmate, who shot a courthouse constable. After that, a rope was waiting.
He went north and got work on a ranch called Sand River. For a while it looked like he’d outrun trouble. He did the job and stayed clean. But up there, range wars were being fought. Ranchers hired range detectives to handle trouble. To some, they were hired killers. One of them was Ibbetson. When they met again, Jack knew it wouldn’t end well. His past had arrived.