Savage Rebel
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\\n\\nHANGING FEVER WITH SMOKE WADE\\u2019S NECK SLATED FOR THE NOOSE
\\n\\nDakota Territory: 1885. A violent band of Civil War veterans who roamed the Badlands were roused from their restless inertia by the murder of the Colonel they idolized. The towns simmered and hatreds flared up anew and every stranger became suspect.
\\n\\nSince Smoke Wade was a stranger, when he stepped out of the hotel a dozen tough and sullen men were waiting for him. They followed him down the dusty street like a pack of hungry dogs stalking a young deer. Someone in their midst spoke the word. "Murderer." The word became a chant, a chant that seemed to sweep through the town. Hanging fever had come to the Dakota Territory!
\\n\\nBefore long Smoke Wade paced a jail cell . . . listening to the angry rumbling of the mob outside. He had suspected it before, but now he was sure\\u2014someone was heating up that mob, trying to make sure he didn\'t leave his cell alive.
\\n\\nHe remembered how he had ridden into this boomtown, a stranger with an itch to follow the wild wind, a simple cowboy with too much nerve and a ready gun. He had tried to help a man in a fight, and the next thing he knew he was in a cell, with a hangman\'s noose awaiting him.
\\n\\nWhy? For the murder of a man he had never even heard of, a murder that had occurred two days before Smoke Wade had come to town!
\\n\\nAs he listened to the bloodthirsty cries outside, his anger grew, He vowed to get out of there, clear his name and pin the guilt where it belonged.
\\n\\nUp to then, there had never been a horse Smoke Wade couldn\'t ride or a man he couldn\'t lick \\u2014 but this time he\\u2019d have to fight a whole damn town!
\\n\\nHe was a rough and tumble cowpoke who never came across a fight or a bet he was afraid to take on, and was thought by most to be just another pistolero for hire. But he always seemed to be onthe side of justice when the powdersmoke settled.
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