While riding through the scorching Arizona desert, Edge interrupts a gunfight between a sheriff and a vicious half-breed who’s got a $1,000 price on his head. The man with the star goes down the loser, and suddenly Edge hads the chance to make a tidy income.
All he has to do is hold onto his booty on the long ride to the nearest jail – no easy task considering the man’s one helluva rebel and Edge isn’t the only fellow who’d like to profit from him.
Edge is sure of one thing - $1,000 isn't worth dying for.
I skipped quite a bit of storyline to get to "Edge: The Prisoners," No. 39 in a series of bloodthirsty Piccadilly Westerns by George G. Gilman. I put them down at No. 2, which I found just a little too savage for my taste. I don't mind the killing in print, but I guess I like at least a hint of morality to the rationale behind the deed. Edge doesn't seem to need one. Strangely enough, this book showed a slightly more introspective Edge, though no less lethal. And, happily for all of those out there who are just here for the violence, Edge seems to choose to leave the old Josiah C. Hedges in the past by the end of this blood-stained adventure. I may find myself with a few more of these vicious dime store novels in my backpack or bag from time to time.