Spring 1889, Texas Panhandle Chapter One Quinten Corbett plucked his watch from his printer's apron pocket and studied the hour. Damnation, maybe time didn't matter to some folks, but to Quin the world revolved around deadlines ... professional and personal. "Monk," he barked across the cramped office, filled with printing equipment and tables, to his old ink-jockey friend. "Where in the blue-blazes is the new apprentice? Did they ship him from Boston to Amarillo by wagon train?"