Irons St. John, unsuccessful candidate in Missouri for the House of Representatives, unsuccessful real estate manipuulator, unsuccessful businessman, unsuccessful husband, just couldn’t turn down Pinkerton’s handsome offer. Besides, outlaw hunting was the only thing he was ever successful at...
True, St. John was getting on in years. And it was 1906, twenty years down a long and winding road from those great old days when St. John’s exploits made him a legend. True, his posse — which included a rusty Indian tracker, a half-blind sharpshooter, two Villista bandits nobody would turp his back on, and a Sunday school preacher wanted for murder — was a mite unusual. It was also true that the Buckner gang, terrorizing banks and trains, throughout Wyoming, Utah, and Colorado, was as tough and elusive a prey as Mister St. John had ever stalked — even when he was the hot young deputy for Hanging Judge Parker. But Pinkerton's and the Union Pacific Railroad were offering $15,000 and wages.
Irons St. John and his men — and the bank-robbing Buckners, for that matter - didn’t know their day was past. No one told them that the Wild West was dead. So they went right on riding, tracking, fighting, and shooting, creating a commotion no one would forget for a long time — and a legend that would keep the Wild West alive a little longer...