“We saw something interesting while we were riding up here,” Matt said. “Did you know there’s a wagon train headed in this direction, Smoke?”

The grin on Smoke’s face was replaced by a puzzled expression.

“This is the first I’ve heard of it,” he said.

“I saw dozens of wagon trains when I was a younger man,” Preacher said. “Maybe a hundred or more. Traveled with a few of’em, too. Them pilgrims wasn’t always the smartest folks when it came to gettin’ along on the frontier, but they was determined to build new lives for themselves, I’ll give ’em that much. Shoot, I guess ever’body was a greenhorn once.”

Matt said, “I thought you didn’t like all the immigrants who moved west. You said they civilized places too much and changed everything from the way it was back in the Shining Times.”

“Well, that’s true,” Preacher said. “They did, and I ain’t overfond of that so-called civilization they brung with ’em. But you can’t stop things from changin’. It’ll happen while you ain’t even lookin’.”

Smoke asked, “You didn’t talk to the people with the wagon train, did you?”

“Nope,” Preacher said. “We just waved at ’em and went on our way.”

Matt said, “Why do you ask, Smoke?”

With a shrug, Smoke replied, “I was just curious where they’re bound, that’s all. I’m not aware of any land around here being opened recently for settlement.”

Some of the Sugarloaf stock grazed on open range, but Smoke knew that concept was dying out in the West. More and more land was being claimed officially, instead of just being there for anybody who wanted to use it. The day was coming, he knew, when cattlemen would have to file claims for the range they were using and fence it in. He didn’t like the thought of it, but like Preacher said, things changed whether a fella wanted them to or not.

“I wouldn’t worry about that wagon train,” Matt said. “Chances are it’s headed for somewhere north of here. Wyoming, maybe, or even Montana.”

“You’re probably right,” Smoke said. He saw the waitress carrying a tray loaded down with food toward their table and put the subject out of his thoughts with the casual comment, “Anyway, those immigrants don’t have anything to do with us.”

PINNACLE BOOKS are published by

Kensington Publishing Corp.

119 West 40th Street

New York, NY 10018

Copyright © 2012 William W. Johnstone

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

PUBLISHER’S NOTE

Following the death of William W. Johnstone, the Johnstone family is working with a carefully selected writer to organize and complete Mr. Johnstone’s outlines and many unfinished manuscripts to create additional novels in all of his series like The Last Gunfighter, Mountain Man, and Eagles, among others. This novel was inspired by Mr. Johnstone’s superb storytelling.

If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

PINNACLE BOOKS and the Pinnacle logo are Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

The WWJ steer head logo is a trademark of Kensington Publishing Corp.

ISBN: 978-0-7860-3032-3

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