DIABLO

written by

DAVID ROBBINS

An epic novel of one man  against an entire town.

From all over they had come, flocking to Diablo in droves.  Prospectors, miners, promoters, gamblers, confidence artists, fallen doves, gunmen, thieves, vagrants, and even a few homesteaders could be found milling in pursuit of their private passions at any hour of the day or night.

They hailed from the ranges of Wyoming and Nebraska, from the rugged vastness of Montana, from Texas and New Mexico and Kansas, from the fertile farmlands of Illinois and Iowa and points east as well.  From wherever men and women were down on their luck and heard about the bonanza to be reaped in the silver-laden mountains or the sin-strewn streets.

A TOWN AT WAR

The wide-open boomtown of Diablo was a tinderbox in the blistering Arizona sun, just waiting for a spark to set it off.   It looked like every prospector, gunman and hard-luck case west of the Mississippi had hit town, desperate to get what he could, and to hell with everybody else.   Trouble was, that made Diablo one mean town:  The homesteaders hated the prospectors and the miners, and both sides hated the cowboys and the ranchers.

Lee Scurlock was the spark Diablo was dreading.  He was riding to escape his past in the dirty Lincoln County War, and trying hard to mind his own business at the state relay station when three cowboys took it into their heads to make trouble.  When the shooting stopped, one of the cowboys was dead, and Scurlock had found himself some serious trouble---trouble that would follow him when he rode with the stage into the blazing manmade hell of .......DIABLO