Satan's Bondage
A Werewolf Western
By MANLY BANISTER
The desert seemed molten when seen through the windshield of the green coupé. That was because of the angle the rays of the afternoon sun made with the glass, and Kenneth Mulvaney was driving directly into the glare.
The car labored up an incline, pacing a whirling dust-devil on the climb. Incandescent boulders shimmered along the6
