— Every new mining camp’s got to have its hanging tree. Makes it feel respectable.

Out in the great Montana country in the Eighteen Seventies, when men were mostly prospectors for gold and women were either grubby housewives or frank purveyors of certain special services, the arrival in a community of a woman who was neither of these was usually cause for excitement, consternation and eventually a brawl […] The story is absorbing to the end. It keeps you wondering and wishing — finally wishing it were a little better, that’s all. — Bosley Crowther*