"This's 1927, June the third." Horgan tugged absent-mindedly at his long brown locks. "Our boss now is Tyad Roosfald. His third year as Boss."
"Teddy Roosevelt." Orth studied his knuckles thoughtfully. "And I suppose General Eisenhower is invading Germany to win our independence!"
"Not Germany," corrected the frontiersman, "but Great Britain. We have accepted Churchill's challenge to land there and fight. Of course the war with Germany and Japan are going on too."
Orth groaned. "What about this other thing—Lee and Washington down South? Don't tell me it's Civil War revival week too. What kind of a gag are you trying to pull on me, Horgan?"
Horgan rubbed a rasping palm thoughtfully along his jaw.
"There is war between the States," he said at last. "Everywhere there is war. The broadcast drums warn us that soon we must fight Cuba." Smoke puffed from his nostrils. "Helping Spain."
One of Orth's hands covered his eyes and he felt his face growing hot with a mingling of anger and bewilderment. He stuttered as he tried to talk. He swallowed smoke and coughed, choking.
"Good afternoon," called a fresh young voice, a feminine voice, from the cabin's rude door.
Their heads twisted smartly toward the opening. Horgan's bared sword was in his fist even before he was on his feet. Together they stood facing the tall round-bodied woman who had walked in upon them. Despite her stature she was remarkably beautiful.