Butler's Wager

CHAPTER 10

Butler calmly told the marshal what he had told the others at the table. When it came to the action, all three men supported his story.

“And anybody else in here will tell you the same, Fred,” Jim Masterson finished.

“Beggin’ your pardon, Jim,” Singer said, “but this is your place.”

“The people drinkin’ and gamblin’ in here don’t work for me, Fred,” Masterson said. “Everythin’ happened just the way Mr. Butler told you.”

“Well,” Singer said, “with you fellas backin’ his story, I got to take your word for it. You know these dead fellas, Jim?”

“Never saw them before.”

“You think they was hired?”

Neal Brown snorted and asked, “What do you think?”

“By who?”

“That’s your job, Marshal,” Dog Kelley said, “findin’ out who and why, ain’t it?”

“You ain’t the mayor anymore, Dog,” Singer said. “You can’t tell me what my job is.”

Brown snorted again and said, “Somebody’s got to.”

“Look,” Singer said, facing Neal Brown squarely, “you got a beef with me, Neal? Let’s get it out.”

Brown started to speak but Masterson said, “Let it lay, Neal. Nobody’s got a beef with you, Fred. You’re right, somebody had to take the job. I wish you luck with it.”

Singer faced Jim Masterson.

“That’s real decent of ya, Jim,” he said. “I appreciate it. Well, I best get your place cleaned up for ya.”

“Appreciate it, Fred,” Masterson said, standing. “We’re gonna go over to Dog’s while you take care of it.”

“You stayin’ in town, Mr. Butler?”

“I am, Marshal,” Butler said, also rising. “I have a room over at the Dodge House.”

“Well,” Singer said, “I’d appreciate it if ya didn’t shoot anybody else while you was in town.”

“That ain’t fair—” Neal Brown started, but Masterson silenced him with a hand on his arm.

“I can assure you, Marshal,” Butler said, “I’ll try my very best not to.”

“Come on, Butler,” Kelley said, “come over to the Alhambra with us. I’ll show you some real hospitality.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kelley. I’d be honored to.”

“It’s Dog,” Kelley said, “just call me Dog. Everybody does.”

They walked together over to the Alhambra, where they sat at a table in the back that was reserved for Dog Kelley and his partner, Pete Beatty. Since Butler had been there just a little while ago another poker game had broken out, and there were now three going on.

“If poker is really your game,” Dog Kelley said to him, “this is the place for you.”

“I hate to admit it, but he’s right,” Jim Masterson said, “you’ll get better poker here than at my place, especially if you’re lookin’ for high stakes.”

“And real gamblers,” Neal Brown said. “That’s Ben Thompson over there at that table of five.”

“I heard Luke Short is dealing faro over at the Long Branch,” Jim Masterson said. “Working for Chalk Beeson and Bill Harris.”

“Yeah, but when he wants to play poker he comes here,” Kelley pointed out. “You’ll get some good games here, Mr. Butler, and I’ll extend you all the credit you need.”

“Why would you do that, Dog?”

“You helped out my good friend Jim, here,” Kelley said. “Kept him from getting’ killed on the self-same day he got fired. That’s worth a lot to me.”

“Even more to me,” Masterson admitted. “In fact, Mr. Butler, it’s worth a steak at the Delmonico, if you’re interested.”

“That’s actually where I was headed when I stopped into the Lady Gay,” Butler admitted.

“Well, finish up your beer, friend,” Masterson said. “There’s steaks a-waitin’.”

Kelley stayed at the Alhambra because it was getting busy. Neal Brown accompanied Masterson and Butler to the Delmonico, where they ordered steak dinners with all the fixin’s.

“How long do you figure on stayin’ in Dodge, Mr. Butler?” Neal Brown asked.

“Long enough for you to start calling me Ty, I hope.”

“Ty?”

“For Tyrone.”

“That’s a helluva name to hang on a youngster,” Jim Masterson said. “You must’ve had a lot of fights when you were growin’ up.”

“I had my share,” Butler admitted. “You can call me Ty, or Butler. It’s your choice.”

Masterson thought a moment, then said, “I think I prefer Butler.”

“Me too,” Brown said. “So, how long will you be here, Butler?”

“I don’t have a set time,” Butler said. “I am moving west, but I’m not in a hurry. I guess it’ll depend on how my luck turns.”

“Well,” Masterson said, “it’s gotta get better than it was today.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Butler said. “I could have taken a bullet.”

“True enough,” Masterson said. “True enough,” but I think you might’ve got yourself on the wrong side of some people today.”

“If they’re the kind of people who have other people shot in the back,” Butler said, “I think I’m on the right side.”