Clint Adams has his eye on the loveliest example of womanhood in town. But in Takersville, New Mexico, nothing is free for the asking. What Charlie Taker don't own, ain't worth having. Now the Gunsmith's got to out-shoot Charlie Taker in a gentlemanly competition. But with the grand prize being as lovely as she is, Clint's soon a bull's-eye for every hired gun that Charlie Taker can round up against him. And it doesn't take long for a sporting contest to turn into a hard-knuckled, back-shooting showdown of hot-blooded vengeance...

The newspapers called him "the Gunsmith," a name Clint Adams earned with his lightning-quick trigger finger and arrow-sharp aim. But being the Justice Maker also means taking on every drunken rival who thinks he's got a faster draw. Now, the Gunsmith has a challenger who's deadly serious. A vile-tempered bandit is roaming the open range, robbing stagecoaches and dry-gulching honest folk. His name is the Gunsmith. Common sense tells Clint to catch this outlaw imposter before the law has the real Gunsmith eatin' prison chow. Revenge tells him to make a bloody example of the bushwhackin' fool...

A fine-looking young lady is brutally butchered before Clint Adams' eyes. Then some back-shootin' varmints start taking potshots at Buffalo Bill Cody, the West's proudest hero. The Gunsmith takes this insult right personal and figures on tackin' their hides to a wall with some .45 caliber slugs. But soaking prairie dust with the blood of some no-account gunslingers is the least of the Gunsmith's worries. Because he's been sharing his bed with a hot-blooded fortune hunter Trouble and the Gunsmith have always had a hard time partin' ways. This time Clint's gonna say good-bye with his...

They were about as different as snake oil and springwater. But when Justin Tarr eyed another man's wife in a smoky gambling hall, it was Clint Adams who pulled him out of the mix-up and saved his hide. That was the first time the unlikely duo brushed with danger, but compared to the mess they were in now, that little barroom brawl seemed like a month in the country... The Colberts of New Orleans have a murder to avenge-and when the head of that prominent family wants to hang someone for killing his daughter Ana, he picks Justin Tarr. Clint knows Justin couldn't have killed the young lady. But...

Twenty-one people in Arizona have a heap in common. They've all ridden into the same triangle-shaped stretch of land-and not one has ridden back out. The Secret Service sent in a woman agent to investigate, and she vanished without a trace. Next they sent in a man who disappeared into the dust. This time, they're sending in a legend... Clint Adams doesn't much fancy the prospect of being number twenty-two. But the Gunsmith has never turned his back on trouble-or on his friends. So he's riding blind into the middle of nowhere, with nothing to go on-except a blood-bitter vow to find Kate O'Hara...

It had been nigh on fifteen years since Clint Adams had seen his old friend Rick Hadley. But when a man you've called your blood brother since childhood asks for help, you don't turn your back. Especially not when he offers you a pretty square deal in return-free run of his saloon and the company of some very enticing young ladies. Only a fool would say no. But something about it just doesn't set right with the Gunsmith. People who have something Hadley wants have a funny way of disappearin' or dyin'. Blood brothers: it was a friendship begun with the mingling of their blood-and it would end...

Somebody's knocking over stages on the Billings-Saddle City line as easy as a string of dominoes. Wells Fargo needs to stop the road agents pronto-and nobody fixes fast guns better than the Gunsmith. But this ain't the usual bunch of two-bit bandits tripping on their triggers. The leader is all business-and all woman. She and her gang are smoother'n a snake-oil salesman and making a better profit to boot... and the way the Gunsmith sees it, they could be a helluva lot harder on his health

Clint Adams didn't have much use for a town like Candelaria. The townsmen were so chicken they let an outlaw gang clean out the bank, and couldn't even get up a posse to chase them. The Gunsmith would have liked to ride on and forget the place-if not for the promise he'd made to the sheriff's pretty widow. Tracking down the Pike brothers in Death Valley was the least of Clint's worries. Now he's got to take them to a necktie party in Carson City. But the Pikes have a plan of their own-to bust free and kill every man on the Candelaria jury. And the Gunsmith is first on their list

Clint Adams can't resist getting tangled in other folks' troubles-especially when those folks are pretty females. But when his pal Rick Hartman bets the Gunsmith he can't take a vacation without getting mixed up in someone else's bad business, Clint vows to leave his white hat at home. So the Gunsmith heads for London and some peace and quiet. In less than a day he's up to his neck in murder. And he's the only man who can clear a suspected strangler. A suspect whose hide he's kind of attached to...name of Clint Adams.