The owlhoots and drygulchers of the old Texas border know the name of Jim Hatfield very well. Mere mention of this tough, two-fisted undercover man of the Texas Rangers is enough to send fear into those who plot evil out in the wide-open West. His nerve is iron hard. His draw is a blur of motion. And the sight of the Lone Wolf riding into town on his great sorrel horse, Goldy, has meant the beginning of the end of many a reckless career of lawlessness.