“December 20, 1896. Running for his life, the cowboy slipped on frozen mud in the corral. Scrambling to his feet, he sprinted into the barn and shimmied up a latter into the loft. Ernest Hurd’s breath turned to puffs of white in the frigid air as he squinted through gaps between hay bales, gun drawn. Cold sweat tricked between his shoulder blades. Just seconds later, his senior partner, William Nottingham, burst through the barn door. Gunfire split the Read More …