“They’ll just lie for one another and nothing will be accomplished by my doing that, Top. And you know it.”
“That is probably very true, Mister Jensen. But I was under orders to inform you of that.”
“I have so been informed. You men got here awful quick.”
“We were here. We’re an advance party checking out likely places to build the park headquarters.”
“I killed a deer this morning, Top. It’s strung up over there. Why don’t you boys cut you a steak and we’ll have an early supper.”
“Music to my ears, Mister Jensen. Mighty pretty music.”
“Just Smoke, Top Soldier. Just Smoke.”
While the steaks were sizzling, being cooked in what skillets the six man patrol had and the rest on sticks held over a fire, MacBride asked, “How long has this crazy damn game been going on, Smoke?”
“Too long, Top. As close as I can figure it—you know how you lose time out there—about two months.”
“I didn’t want to start the killing, and I didn’t want it to go on. But they just kept pressing me, harder and harder. I finally knew that I had no choice in the matter. So I did what I felt I had to do.”
“Nobody at all is blamin’ you, Smoke,” Top Soldier said. “Them people you run into all talked real nice about you. And you also got some powerful friends in government that jumped on this situation like a monkey to a banana.”
Smoke nodded his head. He just didn’t feel good with the situation. The six-man patrol could easily be shot to pieces by von Hausen and his men. Murphy was a grizzled old veteran of countless Indian wars—and probably the Civil War. But the rest were just kids. He put his worries into words.
“You think they’d dare fire on the U.S. Army, Smoke?” the Top Soldier asked.
“Without hesitation, Top. Von Hausen has promised these men all sorts of big money. They’re not going to let it go without a fight.”
Murphy lowered his voice. “Johnny over there, the single-striper, he’s in his second hitch. He’s a good one with more than enough battle experience. The rest ...” He shrugged his shoulders. “They ain’t been tested under fire.”
“Yet,” Smoke added.
“Somehow I knew you were gonna say that,” Murphy said mournfully.
Montana Jess was riding point with the tracker, Roy Drum, when they reined up about two hundred yards from the fast-moving creek. They’d both been smelling wood smoke for about a mile, and were moving very cautiously. They dismounted and slipped through the timber to the west bank of the creek.
Montana Jess cussed under his breath. “Cavalry. And yonder’s Smoke’s horses. See ’em?”
“Yeah,” Drum whispered. “I think we got us a problem, Montana. Let’s get back to von Hausen.”
“It might be a problem,” the Baron admitted. The hunting party had stopped about two miles from the creek. “Does the U.S. Army have arrest powers?”
“They might in here,” John T. said. “This bein’ a national park and all.”
“How big a patrol is it?” Leo Grant asked. His left arm was healing and he had limited use of it; he no longer had to use the sling.
“Six,” Drum replied.
“What are you thinking, Leo?” von Hausen asked.
The gunfighter shrugged his shoulders. “Take ‘em out,” he said simply. “It sure wouldn’t be no big deal. Injun up and blow ’em straight to hell.”
“Now just wait a damned minute here!” Walt protested. “I ain’t havin’ no part of killin’ government troops.”
“Nor me,” Angel said. “You boys better think about what you’re about to do.”
“Aw, shut your traps,” Paul Melham said. “Who gives a damn about a bunch of soldier boys? I say we go for the money.”
“I’m with you,” Lou Kennedy said. “I ain’t about to turn my back on more money than I could make in five years hasslin’ homesteaders and the like.”
“I’ll stay,” Gil Webb said. “I got warrants on me in half a dozen states and territories. I ain’t about to ride in no army camp and let them arrest me.”
The rest of the bounty hunters and gunslingers quickly fell in line. That left Walt and Angel looking down the muzzles of a dozen guns.
“You shoot us,” Walt said, thinking very quickly, “you got no surprise left, ’cause them shots will carry to the soldier boys ... and Jensen.”
“Tie them up and leave them here,” von Hausen ordered. “We’ll dispose of them once we’ve killed the soldiers and hanged Jensen.”
“Yeah. I like that idea. Hang ’im slow,” Utah Red said. “I wanna see him die real slow and hard. We’ll put his feet in the fire first. Make him scream.”
“They’ll be none of that!” von Hausen said sharply. “We’ll hang him properly after we try him for the murders of those men we buried along the trail.”
