The downed cop was a rookie. The shooter was scum, part of a gang planning the biggest bank heist in Gusher City, Texas. The only witness was a fat man too scared to talk.

Now, working under legendary sheriff Jack Tragg, Deputy Brad Counter - great-grandson of Mark Counter from Ole Devil Hardin's floating outfit - was as fast with a gun as his ancestor. His partner was Alice Fayde. Her weapons of choice were her looks and her brains.

They had a plan for catching these lowlifes ... it involved two pretty call girls, an unwilling civilian, a slimy informant, and a trap that would catch a rat - or cost Alice and Counter their lives.

When the members of the Rockabye County Sheriff's Office spoke of a bad hombre, they usually meant an exceptionally large, tough, vicious and ruthless criminal with a temper as mean as a stick-teased rattlesnake’s.

The small, slender, meek-looking Oscar Burgenhof was so insignificant in appearance that he might be passed unnoticed on a deserted street. Yet his weird and erotic tastes in entertainment had driven him to a life of crime.

By the time Burgenhof was brought to justice, he had killed five people and involved Woman Deputy Alice Fayde in the tightest, most bizarre and perilous situation of her life. No matter how he might look, Oscar Burgenhof was a bad hombre.

On vacation in Mexico, Woman Deputy Alice Fayde and he partner Deputy Sheriff Bradford Counter hoped that they could forget crime for a few days. Giving a lift to an English girl, they found themselves involved with hired killers and entangled in the world of international espionage. And so they began a desperate run for the border. The deputies would need all their gun-skill, courage and intelligence if they hoped to reach Rockabye County alive.

At first most people, even the majority of his victims, regarded the Owlhoot as something of a joke. Armed with a long-barreled Colt Peacemaker, masked by a bandana and dressed like an old West cowhand, he robbed couples necking in cars on lonely roads. Woman Deputy Alice Fayde and her partner, modern-day gun wizard Deputy Bradford Counter, did not think he was a joke. Especially as they stood looking at the two bodies sprawled by the Pontiac convertible. They had been shot at close range by the .45 caliber, black powder-powered bullets from the Owlhoot’s revolver. The deputies’ fears had been realised. No longer was the Owlhoot a joke. Now he was a killer who had to be located and arrested before he used the Colt again.

“Even with a psycho there’s a point of contact in the killings,” Sheriff Jack Tragg told Deputies Fayde and Counter as they went to investigate the third apparently unconnected murder in which the same gun had been used. “Find it and at least you’ll have his motive.”

Yet there seemed no point of contact between the victims – and old moonshiner, a visiting theatrical producer and the bust-out man of a crooked floating crap game. So the depuities searched and at last found the point of contact. But finding it gave them the name of another possible victim … Woman Deputy Alice Fayde herself!

Bradford Counter stood six feet three and weighed two hundred and twenty pounds. He was a graduate of the University of Southern Texas's Police Science and Administration Class and had passed the Federal Bureau of Investigation's training course for police officers with honors. His black belts in judo and karate were backed by a thorough knowledge of roughhouse brawling and dirty fighting. By virtue of his expertise with firearms, he was a member of the F.B.I.'s exclusive 'Possible Club' and his scores on the Police Combat Shooting Course of the Rockabye County Sheriff's Office earned him an extra sixteen dollars a week.
With such qualifications Brad knew plenty about the theory of modern law enforcement. But before he had held his badge for thirty-six hours, he found himself up against a pair of professional killers who never hesitated to use their guns. Under those conditions experience counted, and theory was of little use. Because in a real gunfight, there was only one second prize awarded … death!

Two terrorists had seized hostages, demanding an aircraft to take them to Cuba...Then 'Crazy Doc' Christopher had escaped from the penitentiary hell-bent on vengeance.
But when Walter Haddon--one of the FBI's ten most wanted men--strolled into Gusher City, all four men found out what other criminals had discovered to their cost. Breaking the law in Rockabye County was fraught with peril. For they were up against men like Sheriff Jack Tragg, Deputy Sheriff Brad Counter and Thomas Cord and the rest of the lawmen of Rockabye County.

Jack Tragg, sheriff of Rockabye County, Texas, was a powerful, sun-bronzed six foot one. Although he owned traditional cow-hand style outfits, he usually wore a business suit or khaki uniform. His gunbelt was a modern combat-shooter's rig, with a single Smith & Wesson .41 Magnum. Jack had a stable of fine horses at his disposal, but most of the time he traveled by car, aeroplane or helicopter. Like his Old West predecessors, Jack's duty was to keep the peace and maintain law and order in his bailiwick. Tough--fast with a gun--Jack was the jet-aged lawman!

Tom Cord was within three months of retirement when bushwhack lead cut him down. No lawman ever allowed one of his fellow officers to be murdered without making every effort to get his killer. Deputy Sheriff Bradford Counter, a modern-day gun wizard, had been Tom’s partner; Woman Deputy Alice Fayde was Tom’s niece.
Together they began the hunt for the old deputy’s killer. The search took them across the Rockabye County rangelands, through the slums of Gusher City’s Bad Bit and into the upper-crust district of Upton Heights. At last the trail ended, with Brad Counter’s gun-skill matched against the two professional killers who shot his partner down.

A gang of killers puts Operation Scare-Off into action against the wives of the interfering peace officers. Sheriff Jack Tragg sets up all the scientific aids and modern techniques of radio patrols, white-coated lab crews, and motorized posses with full assault armament. But when Deputy Brad Counter is faced by a member of the gang armed with a sawed-off shotgun, only one thing can save him - his traditional skill and deadly speed on the draw. At that moment either Brad of the outlaw has only a quarter of a second left to live.

When Deputy Sheriffs Alice Fayde and Brad Counter looked at the body, it was that of a shapely, lusciously-curved young woman. There were six bullet holes in the torso. And there was no face; only a hideously battered mass of blood and pulp. Sometimes the work of a modern peace officer can be even tougher than in the days of the Old West ...