It was windy when my father finally met the man who took his hopes from him. It's always windy in the desert during the day unless you're in a town or an arojjo. Greg had trailed the man from Tuson all the way to El Paso, a three hundred mile ride.  The story goes that the guy dad was after was just a bounty...but I know the real background.

My father may have been many things, may have had a dark streak in him, may have had a past he never spoke of...but so do I.

The ironic thing is that this man my father had been hunting over so many miles, used to be his best friend. This man, called Greene, taught my dad all he knew, and left Greg when he needed him most.

Word on the trail was that Greene and his boys cut up a couple workin girls, cut em up the way no woman ever should live through.

Greg found em, walked in on them when they weren't expecting anything, snuck up on them in their camp out of town .

My dad shot four of em down before they could draw...
and Greene was the only one left asking why?

"Why Greg?" he asked. "You know why."