Twenty-FiveNot so many years ago, the town of Fairweather pulsated with the sound of a thousand voices, children laughing and running in the streets, families seeking a new life, businesses thriving, saloons full of prospectors and pilgrims. In those days, Ben Magee ruled with an iron fist. He banned the carrying of firearms within the town limits, patrolled the streets ensuring drunks and other trouble-makers were dealt with quickly and efficiently and stood as judge and jury in disputes.
Now all of that was but a distant memory.
Located in a narrow valley, rough-hewn hills forming a natural boundary between it and the wide, open spaces, the town was a mix of wooden frame shacks and small, false fronted commercial buildings. A few old, mangy looking mules stood outside the tired looking
