sighs in haunted frontier Well, the sign-up sheet stayed blank this week, and the canaries went silent across the Deadlands. Nobody rode into town for week seven—not a single soul braved the dust. It happens in these ghost towns, where the wind just howls through empty fairways and the only movement is the tumbleweeds rolling past the tee pads. The league's got momentum still crackling somewhere in the circuitry from week six, and we're already eyeing week eight like a promised waterin' hole. To the three souls who dragged their corpses through Shallow Graves last week—wherever you are—the frontier's still here when you're ready to saddle up again.