Death at DuBois

The sick knot in his stomach increased as he neared Dubois. The wound in his gut was healing so it wasn't that. Nor was it death, for he had faced it too many times to be intimidated by it. It was something else: a crawling feeling down the back of his neck told him he would find something here he would not want to face and something for which his years as a Pinkerton Range Detective had not equipped him. If he had been smart, he would have turned around and ridden away. The trouble was, Levi Hill had never ridden from trouble-and he was not about to start now. Not even from the unspeakable death at Dubois.