Beautiful, mysterious Shirley Randolph stood at the faro table and gambled like a man. Watching her, Sheriff Curt Thompson suspected that she could also ride like a man, rob like a man, and shoot like a man. But he wondered whether she could also love like a woman. Curt was on the trail of the Trackless Bunch - phantom gun-slicks who killed for sheer sport. Did Shirley's slim white finger sometimes trigger those wanton guns? Was she devil or angel?
