The Panhandle was a lonely purple range land, unfenced, and wind swept. Bill Smith, cattleman, threw up a cabin and looked at the future with hopeful eyes. One day while plowing almost out of sight of his little home - which that morning he had left apprehensively owing to an impending event - he espied his wife Margaret coming along the edge of the plowed field. She had brought his lunch this day, despite his order to the contrary.
The Yellow Mine Saloon was like every gambling dive Panhandle Smith had seen from Montana to Mexico. Piles of gold and greenbacks littered the roulette and faro tables. Drunken miners stamped to and from the long mahogany bar. An odor of whiskey mingled with the thick tobacco haze. Suddenly, one of the gamblers turned, and Smith recognized Dick Hardman, the man he had followed a thousand miles - to kill.
Tonto County sees their good-natured sheriff and former vaudevillian Henry Conroy as a bit of a joke, but can he step up and take charge when trouble comes knocking?