It was 1933, and Emmett Dalton, notorious bank robber from the Old West, was now long retired from his life of crime. After the 1892 dual bank robbery in Coffeyville, Kansas, which had made him a legend, he’d done a fourteen-year stretch in the pen out in Lansing. That stint had provided him with plenty of time to reflect on all the mistakes he’d made as a younger man, and he had vowed never to make them again.
But damned if he wasn’t jealous of these youngsters. When he read about these kids like John Dillinger, Baby Face Nelson, and Bonnie and Clyde in the newspapers, he found himself longing to raise a little hell. But he was an old man now. He was sixty-two, and robbing banks was a young man’s game. Who the hell had ever heard of a geriatric bank robber?
Today Emmett was an author wi
