A little before dawn, five men rode into the small town of Saddlerock with the intention of robbing the stage, due in less than an hour and carrying more than a hundred thousand dollars' work of gold bullion. By the time the sun was up, the driver of the stage and the three deputies riding with him had been shot down and the raiders had made off with their loot, leaving behind sufficient evidence to incriminate one man as the leader of their gang. That man was Matt Turner, recently arrived in Saddlerock from back east, missing from his room at the hotel for two days prior to the stage robbery.

When he rode back into town three days later, he was suspected of being the leader of the notorious robbers and thrown into jail to await trial. But there were those in Saddlerock who were not content that he should be there while the circuit judge arrived, who feared that the other members of the gang might return and shoot up the town in an attempt to burst him out of jail and they formed a lynch mob to string him up that night.

Curiously, the only man to believe his story and his innocence was Slim Hogan, Sheriff of Saddlerock, whose brother had been killed guarding the stage. This is the story of how one man made a desperate search to prove his innocence, before bringing in one of the most dangerous gangs in the territory.

Four months before, Fenton, Texas, had been merely a cluster of a dozen or so mud-roofed huts spread out over a quarter of a mile of prairie. The railroad, building through, had considered it of such little importance that it had passed deliberately thirty miles to the north. Then, in the hills to the north, a rich vein of gold was found and overnight, Fenton became a boom town, a hell-town. Where they came from nobody knew, but suddenly there descended on the town a horde of prospectors, cattlemen, crooked gamblers, saloon men and hard-eyed killers.

A railhead was built and Fenton became also the focal point for the vast herds of Texan cattle, bringing the drovers and cowboys with them. Ranches sprang up on the outskirts of the town and the inevitable smouldering feud between townsmen and rangemen approached flashpoint.

Into this seething whirlpool of flaring tempers and flaming guns rode a tall and deadly stranger. He was the man who had little interest in Fenton itself, but for him this was the end of a private vengeance trail and he found himself in the unenviable position of having to save the town - if it could be saved!

The new Republic of Texas was in danger.

Red skinned killers spawned on the high hell of the Staked Plains came thundering down upon the settlements and farms in their hundreds, with the blood lust in their eyes, and Mexican rifles in their hands. For Mexico wanted Texas back under her banner, and to the attaining of that end she was willing to arm the savage Comanche and Kiowa Indians, to give them supremacy over the Texas settlers. There was a Mexican spy organisation in New Mexico. The brain of a vile octupus whose sucking tentacles reached out to menace President Houston's Republic.

One man controlled the vast army of renegades, gun runners, and war painted red men, and his name was Luiz Mendoza.

To smash the conspiracy against their homeland the Texas Rangers rode into the Staked Plains, their aim to meet the Comanche Indians on their own territory and smash them.

The aim of all but one. Ranger Lee Morgan intended more than that. He was going on across the border itself, to Las Vegas where Mendoza and his gunmen held sway. For Morgan had a score to settle with Luiz Mendoza, an old score eight years old, a diabolical thing out of the dark pages of the Texans' gallant fight for independence.

The is the story of one man who survived an Indian massacre, who rode alone into the heart of enemy country to repay a debt of vengeance, and to serve his country. A piece of American history written in the hot lead of blazing guns and blood of the men who died for Texas.

The men of the Texas Rangers.