It's funny how life can turn on a dime. One minute you're having a casual lunchtime swim in a trailside stream,

the next you're staring down the barrel of a gun. At least that's how it went for one unfortunate

group of men in August of 1801. The swimmers were part of a team led by Colonel Joshua Baker,

tasked with tracking down a famed highwayman

Mason. You see, after a decade of robbing and murdering travelers, Mason happened to steal

from Colonel Baker himself earlier that year. And so in retaliation, Baker had enlisted a bandit-hunting

posse. And, yeah, judging by the burly, snaglet-tooth fellow in front of them now,

they had managed to find the wolfman.

Just not in the way they had hoped.

But alas, here Baker's men were, naked, wet,

and very much on the wrong end of the outlaw's rifle.

Sam Mason stepped forward. He wore a leather

shirt and leggings, his infamous wolf-fang glinting crooked in his mouth. I'm glad to see you,

gentlemen, Mason said with a mocking politeness. And though our meeting did not promise to be quite so

friendly, I am just as well satisfied. My arms and ammunition will not cost as much

as I expected. And with that, he forced Baker's men to relinquish their weapons, before he vanished

back into the woods, like a pirate from a storybook. Baker had bested them again. It would be another

year before the dreaded wolfman would finally be caught,

and although he would swear before the court that he was only a humble hunter,

the stolen goods, the guns, and most notably 20 human scalps in the guy's possession,

told a different story.

And Mason's spree might have ended there,

...