Marshal Jake T. Devine's law is simple. Nobody threatens him and lives.

In his twenty-five years of law enforcement he's always brought in his man with a bullet blasted between the eyes.

So when Max Randall shoots his mouth off, claiming he knows a devastating secret about the wealthy rancher Roy Cowie, he's clearly spoiling for trouble — and he gets it!

Roy Cowie calls in Devine to arrest Max and without provocation the brutal marshal slaughters Max's entire family. In self-preservation Max heads for the hills with Devine and his deadly Peacemaker in hotfoot pursuit. Even when Max gains an unlikely ally in Roy Cowie's son, his chances of seeing another sunrise are slim.

Can Max survive long enough to reveal what he knows, or will the gun-toting marshal deliver another round of Devine's law?

Marshal Jake T Devine kicked open the door of the shack to crash it back against the wall.

Inside, Seth Randall and his three rough-clad youngsters sat at a table.

'Howdy,' Jake muttered, his vast frame filling the doorway.

'What you want?' Seth snarled.

'Max.'

'Then you've wasted a journey.' Seth rocked his chair back and folded his arms. 'He ain't here.'

Jake took a long pace forward and glanced around the shack. Aside from the table and chairs it was bare of furniture. Propped against the back wall were a row of rifles. Two ripening buck carcasses hung from the ceiling, swaying in the breeze from the open door.

'I'm guessing you're Seth Randall and these are your sons. How do I know one of them ain't Max?'

The eldest of Seth's boys pushed from his chair and strode two paces to stand on Jake's right side. Another boy stood to Jake's left.

'That's Adam and Wayne,' Seth said. 'Caleb's sitting by me. As I said — Max ain't here. So scat.'

Jake smiled. 'You only have four sons?'

Seth matched the smile. 'Yup. Four sons are more than enough for any man to keep.'

Jake glanced at Adam and chuckled. 'Guessing he's the runt of your litter. Hard to believe anyone could produce someone uglier than him.'

'Why you ...' Adam shouted. He whirled round, flailing his fist in a round-arm punch.

With his forearm Jake deflected the punch and kicked Adam's shin, tumbling him to the floor. He twitched his hand, pulling his Peacemaker.

'You people ain't being co-operative, but that'll change.' With his other hand Jake grabbed Wayne's collar. He dragged him close and slammed the gun barrel between his eyes. 'Where's your brother?'

As Wayne gulped, Seth held his arms wide.

'We don't want trouble,' he babbled. 'None of us are packing guns.'

'You have rifles.'

Seth pushed his chair back and stood.

'We only use them to hunt. We're no threat to you.' He sighed. 'And I don't know where Max is. He took off late last night.'

'Where to?' Jake asked, rolling the words.

'Don't know. Time's long passed when Max told me what he was doing.'

Jake tightened his grip, hoisting Wayne on to his tiptoes. He glared deep into Wayne's eyes.

'What's Max done?' Wayne said between gasps.

Jake pressed the gun tight against Wayne's forehead, the skin buckling around the barrel.

'That is an interesting question. It says you might tell me where he is, but it depends what he's done.' Jake pressed the gun harder, forcing Wayne to lean back so that his head and shoulders were parallel to the floor. 'Talk to me or your pa will have one less son to feed this winter.'

'You wouldn't,' Wayne whispered.

'Wrong answer.'

Jake twitched his finger, the gunshot echoing in the shack. As Wayne collapsed from his grip, he swung the gun round, shooting Adam and Caleb through the stomach and chest. He whirled the gun back to Seth.

In open-mouthed shock, Seth collapsed to his knees. He held out a shaking hand, pointing beside Jake.

'Adam,' he murmured.

Jake glanced to his side — on the dusty floor, Adam still writhed, holding his stomach. With a contemptuous flick of the wrist, Jake fired and Adam collapsed, his last breath rustling a flurry of dust.

'You'll pay for what you've ...' Seth's voice faded to a croaked whisper.

'Tough talking for an unarmed man facing my gun,' Jake roared, holding his Peacemaker at arm's length. 'Now where's Max?'

Seth snarled his top lip. 'You don't think I'm answering, do you?'

'Nope.'

Jake fired twice more. He sauntered three paces to stand over Seth's body and spat on his bloodied forehead.

He re-loaded and cocked his head to one side, listening. Silence had descended on the shack, punctuated by the breeze whistling around the door. When he'd confirmed that no surprises would come, he kicked open the other two doors in the shack.

Both rooms were empty, but in the second room the shutters were open. Jake stood, confirming the room was as cold as the wind blowing in from outside — so the window had been open a while.

With his Peacemaker raised to his shoulder, Jake edged to the window and glanced through. Nobody was outside. Still, Jake slipped through the window and sidled around the side of the shack.

In the corral at the back two horses bustled against the rough fence, the same number as when he'd arrived.

Jake checked the hoof-prints around the corral. Dust filled them. With his hand to his brow, he surveyed the surrounding hills, searching for dust clouds on the horizon. As he saw none, Jake returned to the shack.

He gathered the rifles and laid one beside each body. Then he strode outside, leapt on his horse, and headed back to Carmon.

As Jake rode down the trail, he whistled.

When I was preparing to send The Outlawed Deputy to my publisher, I agonized over whether I should seek publication under my real name or a pseudonym.

If my name was Colt Montana, I wouldn't have worried.

I devised Jake T. Devine (named in tribute to the character actor Andy Devine), but my vain desire to have my own name on a cover won through. And, in recognition of the pseudonym that never was, I added a one-line reference to a Marshal Jake T. Devine into the novel.

This tribute grew and in The Last Rider from Hell, Marshal Devine ran Frank Chapel out of Beaver Ridge. And in Bad Day in Dirtwood Devine had arrested Luke McCoy. These actions occurred in the back story, but I reckoned it was time to give Devine a full outing.

But what I didn't expect was that he would turn out to be a sadistic maniac who bullies and murders and tortures a savage path through the story line.

Why the character I viewed as my alter-ego lacked any decency, I don't like to ponder, but there it is.