Two pistoleros facing off in the street outside a saloon draw and fire, the shots blinding one, crippling the other. Enemies for an instant, now bound together forever, the gimp perched on the blind man's back directing the draw and aim, two half-hombres making one whole gunslinger. They figure in the beginnings of The Dying Cowboys' Club, the mystical secret society formed to address an eternal human question: how do we eliminate the evil amongst us without becoming evil ourselves? This novel - written in sonnets - is offered not in recommendation of The Dying Cowboys' Club - though there is much to recommend them - but in salute.