Butler's Wager

CHAPTER 34

A. J. Webster’s first four days in office had been good, but not completely satisfying. He’d heard what had happened in the Alhambra the first night the gambler, Butler, had been in town, and now there’d been shoot-outs at the Lady Gay, again involving Butler. Both times Jim Masterson had come out alive.

Now Fred Singer was standing in front of the mayor’s desk, trying to explain why he had not run Butler out of town.

“It’s your job now to keep this town clean, Marshal,” Webster said. “We don’t need more men like Jim Masterson and Chalk Beeson and Dog Kelley comin’ into Dodge, we need less.”

“I understand that, Mr. Mayor,” Singer said, “and I am doin’ my job—”

“Not if that fella Butler is still in town,” Webster said. “Sounds to me like if it wasn’t for him we wouldn’t have Jim Masterson to worry about anymore.”

Singer frowned.

“Mayor, you didn’t have anything to do with sending those men after Masterson, did you?”

“What? No, of course I didn’t.”

“Because if you did I’d have to—”

“I told you, I had nothin’ to do with it,” Webster said, overriding the marshal. “All I’m sayin’ is one of our problems could’ve been solved without us lifting a finger to do it.”

“I can’t just run Butler out,” Singer said. “All witnesses say he drew only when provoked.”

“I don’t care when he drew,” Webster said, slamming his hand down on the desk. “The next time he does, I want you to get him out of Dodge. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And I want you to assign a man to the telegraph office.”

“What for?”

“I want to know if Jim Masterson sends for his brother Bat—and if he does, I want to know about it right away.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what about Ben Thompson?”

“W-what about him?”

“If push comes to shove, which way is he gonna jump?” the older man asked.

“I can’t say for sure, Mayor.”

“I wish Peacock and that brother-in-law of his would take matters into their own hands already,” Webster said. “The two of them are more capable of killin’ Jim Masterson than any of these hired guns have been.”

“I been wonderin’ about that myself, Mayor,” Singer agreed, “If they done it themselves it might be over already.”

“That’s what I just said.”

“I meant to say—”

“Look, Fred,” Webster said, “I gave you this job—Jim Masterson’s job—because you assured me you could do it.”

“Yes, sir, I can, but—”

“Then do it,” Webster said, his voice rising. By God, just go and do it!”

Updegraff came back to the Lady Gay, slipped in the back way while Butler and Brown and Masterson were in the saloon. He made his way up the stairs and tapped on his brother-in-law’s door. There were some muffled curses from inside and then the door swung open. Peacock stared angrily at Updegraff, who was looking past the man at the woman on the bed. All he could see was her big ass, and it was as red as a beat. He also saw what he thought was the imprint of a hand there.

“Stop staring at Carol’s ass, Al. Whataya want?”

“Didn’t you hear the shootin’ downstairs?”

“Yeah, I did,” Peacock said. “I was sort of hopin’ our problem was solving itself.”

“Well, it didn’t. That gambler got in the way again.”

“You were supposed to take care of that, Al—”

“I know, but—”

“It was your job.”

“I know, Anthony, but—”

“You were supposed to find some men good enough to handle it,” Peacock went on.

“Well, he was better with a gun than I thou—”

“Get some talent, damn it!” Peacock growled.

“I’ll need more money, Anth—”

“Use what you stole from the other batch of money I gave you,” Peacock said.

“I—that ain’t enough for more than one ma—”

“Then get one man,” Peacock said. “Get one man good enough to do the job, and tell him to make it look like a fair fight—maybe an argument over a poker game, or a woman.”

“Okay, but—”

“If we can’t get someone to get this done, Al,” Peacock said, “you and me might have to strap on our guns and do it ourselves.”

“That’d be okay with me—”

“Well, it wouldn’t be okay with me.” Peacock kept his voice down because he could hear Masterson, Brown, and Butler in the saloon. “Take care of Brown, get rid of Butler, and Masterson will have to stand alone. Got it?”

“Yeah, I got—”

“Good. Then do it.” Peacock slammed the door in Updegraff’s face before the man could take another good look at the welts rising on Carol’s ass.