Smoke broke camp and headed north toward the Green. He smiled as he settled into the saddle. These folks wanted to see some country. He’d show them some country. He decided to leave his friend up in Central Wyoming out of this.
Lute had told him that von Hausen had been on his trail for over a month, able to move much faster because of the trains. He had so much wealth that if the train was full, he’d just order up several more cars and hook on.
Smoke thought about that as he rode. Rock Springs was on the Union Pacific’s transcontinental line. He wondered if von Hausen would have supplies waiting for him there? Smoke bet he would. Either there or at the town of Green River just to the west of Rock Springs. Smoke’s smile toughened as he changed direction, heading southwest, into very tough country. He’d lose them in that area and then head for the little settlement he thought was still there at the old Fort Bridger site-if the Mormons hadn’t burned it down again like they burned it and Fort Supply back in ‘57 or ’58 during the Mormon War.
He lost the party trailing him by setting a grueling pace, once he discovered they had several women with them, all riding side-saddle. Smoke couldn’t imagine the mentality of any woman who would have anything to do with something this foolish and bloodthirsty.
“He’s got to be headin’ toward Fort Bridger,” Montana Jess told von Hausen.
“The terrain?” the German asked impatiently.
“It ain’t high country, but it’s rough country. And the army’s still got a garrison there.”
“They most certainly do not!” Hans said. “It was abandoned several years ago. I have information to that effect.”
Montana shifted his chew and spat, looking at the man. “Your information is wrong. And here’s something else: you call me a liar again, Brodermann, and I’ll kill you!”
Gunter stepped between the gunfighter and the prince. Hans really was a prince from some German family who had more princes and princesses than they knew what to do with. “We are not accustomed to your ways and methods in the wild west, Mister Jess. Be patient with us.”
Montana nodded his head. “Yeah,” he said, then walked away.
Hans said, “I’ll have to give that fellow a good thrashing before this expedition is through.”
“He is certainly deserving of one,” Hans’ wife, Andrea said.
“And he smells bad, too,” Marlene pointed out.
“The fort was reopened a couple of years back,” John T. told them. “What about the supplies up in Green River?”
“We can always resupply,” Frederick said. “Let’s pick up this man’s trail and press on.”
“What if he tells the army about us?” Marlene asked. “That man that our scout saw riding away from Smoke’s camp the other morning might have told him about us?”
“It’s possible,” von Hausen admitted. “But we have done no wrong. Besides, all of us are in this country under diplomatic papers. We have immunity from any type of prosecution.”
“Has that been tested in the wild west?” Gunter asked.
“You’re forgetting I was trained in international law. It’s been law in the United States since 1790,” von Hausen replied. “Mount up.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” the commanding officer at Fort Bridger said, adding with a smile, “I think. Have you eaten?”
“No. I’ve been pushing hard getting here.”
“Trouble?”
“More than my share of it, I’m afraid.”
“We’ll discuss it over some food. Perhaps I can help.”
“Von Hausen,” the Colonel said, after the meal was over and they had settled back over coffee and cigars. “Damn little I can do-even if this rather ... bizarre story is true. Not that I’m doubting your word, Mister Jensen,” he was very quick to add. “But have the people following you actually done anything?”
“Not one hostile move, Colonel.”
The colonel leaned forward. “Von Hausen is not an unknown name in Washington, Smoke. The von Hausen family have long been in diplomatic service. I’m sure the younger von Hausen is protected under international law.”
“You want to explain that to me?”
The colonel spoke for several minutes. When he finished, Smoke sat his chair and stared at him.
“Do you mean that somebody protected under this dumb law can cold bloodedly kill anybody they like and there isn’t a damn thing any lawman can do to them?”
“They can be expelled from the country.”
Smoke shook his head in disbelief.
“But it works both ways, Smoke. The same law protects our diplomats in their country.”
“That doesn’t give a whole lot of comfort to a man in the grave, now, does it?”
The colonel smiled. “No. I’m afraid it doesn’t. What will you do, Smoke?”
“Keep on traveling north. They’ll get to see some wild country if they hang on my tracks.”
“I remember you from fifteen years ago, Smoke. When you were no more than a boy who was quick with a gun. You would have handled this quite differently back then.”
