His father's "crime" was building a home in a green Oregon valley. His father's killers were ranchers who believed their greed and guns gave them a lease on every man's land—and every man's life.
As Cassidy grew older, he grew quieter and meaner. He was learning the killing skills of a gunman and he was waiting. Waiting for the day he could kill enough ranchers to ease his hatred. But for a hatred as big as Cassidy's, "enough" meant the whole rotten breed.
Then he got his chance. Ranchers were hiring guns for a range war. They wanted every settler swinging from a tree. Cassidy knew if the settlers had one gun fast enough and a leader who hated enough, it wouldn't be the settlers hanging in the Wyoming wind.