It was called Apache Basin, this raw, rough lonely land where the bones of many violently dead men had bleached white beneath a scorching sun. Against Apache Basin Jim Modeen pitted himself -- pitted his renegade streak, his cavalry courage, his hard-won savvy of wilderness danger. And pitted his gun. For a gun ruled Apache Basin, held in the iron fist of a man who dealt out death to any reckless enough to challenge him. But Jim Modeen took a lot of killing, as the ghosts of his enemies -- white and red -- could testify….
