Butler's Wager

CHAPTER 45

After two hours the players began to dwindle so, once again as it had happened the night before, they consolidated the tables. Butler ended up sitting with Corbin, Ben Thompson, and two other men.

Corbin was a steady professional, but once he ended up at a table with both Ben Thompson and Butler he started to lose.

“Gents,” he said, eventually, standing up, “I think I better get out while I still have a few dollars. Mr. Butler, I’d be honored to buy you a drink when you’re done here.”

“Be my pleasure, Mr. Corbin.”

“Gentlemen,” Corbin said, touching the brim of his hat.

He passed behind Butler and out of sight.

“I believe that man’s a bigger fool than I thought,” Ben Thompson said.

“Why’s that?” Butler asked.

“He’s takin’ the rest of his money over to Trixie’s faro table.” Thompson laughed.

“He’ll lose the rest of it there,” Butler said.

The other men at the table laughed. Twenty minutes later they were gone and Butler and Ben Thompson were laying head-to-head again. Both were significantly ahead for the night.

“If you don’t mind,” Thompson said diplomatically, “I’m not exactly in a winner-take-all frame of mind tonight.”

“That suits me.”

“Besides, Thompson said, gathering up his chips, “your luck is runnin’ too damn good tonight. I know better than to buck a man’s string of luck.”

Butler actually attributed his winning to skill more than luck, but decided not to argue with Ben Thompson about that.

“Who’s your friend?” Thompson asked.

“Who?”

“That feller’s been watchin’ you all night.” Thompson jerked his chin and Butler looked in that direction. He saw Kevin Ryerson standing where he could easily see the poker table.

“Has he been there all night?” he asked.

“Ever since you sat down,” Thompson said, then, “no, since Lane got carried off. I guess that attracted his attention.”

Butler frowned, annoyed that he had not noticed the man himself.

“He’s not a friend,” he said, “he’s a bounty hunter.”

“Who’s he after?”

“He won’t say if he’s even after somebody,” Butler said.

“Well, can’t be me,” Thompson said. “I’ve got no price on my head, that I know of.”

Butler realized that his silence was saying more than he ever could, but decided to maintain it.

“Drink at the bar?” Butler asked.

“I have a previous appointment with a lady,” Thompson said, as they stood up. “Perhaps next time. Besides, Corbin’s waitin’ at the bar to buy you one.”

Butler looked over at the bar where Corbin was standing.

“I guess he left Trixie’s table with some money after all.”

Butler and Thompson started to walk away from the table and were confronted by Bill Harris.

“Done for the night?”

“Yes, we’re done, Bill,” Thompson said.

“I’ll have those chips cashed in for you, gents.” He waved two girls over.

“I’ll just go with the little lady and cash them myself, Bill,” Thompson said, “but Butler, here, has somebody waitin’ for him at the bar.”

“Just give your chips to Heather, Mr. Butler, and she’ll bring you your cash at the bar.”

Butler hesitated, then said, “All right,” and handed the pretty, chubby brunette his chips.

“Don’t waste any time, Heather,” Bill Harris told her. “Mr. Butler will be at the bar.”

“No, sir.”

“Thanks, Bill,” Butler said. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Butler walked over to the bar, leaving the saloon owner standing in the middle of the floor.

“Beer or whiskey?” Corbin asked.

“Beer.”

While they waited he noticed that Ryerson was standing at the other end of the bar. Was he just trying to make Butler uncomfortable?

“There ya go,” Corbin said, handing Butler his beer.

“Thanks.” Butler sipped. “How did you do at the faro table?”

“The dealer was too beautiful for me to concentrate,” Corbin said. “I lost a few dollars and gave up. Then I asked her to have a drink with me, but she told me she didn’t fraternize with the patrons. How did you do?”

“I did all right.”

At that point Heather appeared and handed Butler a thick sheaf of bills. He took one out and handed it to her.

“Thanks, Mister.”

As Butler tucked the money away inside his jacket, Corbin said, “Looks like you did more than all right.”

“You seemed to have left ahead,” Butler said.

“Just about,” the other man said. He was taller, more slender than Butler and—like Butler and Ben Thompson—was wearing a dark suit. “I was cleanin’ up until you came along, and then things got worse when we moved to Ben’s table. It was time for me to go.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“Sorry?”

“You said you wanted to buy me a drink. I thought you might have something on your mind.”

“Not really,” Corbin said. “I just admire the way you handle yourself at the table. You know your way around a deck of cards.”

“Well, thanks…”

“You also did me a favor, keeping me from killing that sore loser, Lane.”

“I didn’t see that it would do anyone any good,” Butler said. “In fact, if I was you I’d be careful when I left here. He might be hanging around outside.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. By the way, who’s the fella at the end of the bar? He keeps watchin’ us. He was watching’ us play, too.”

Butler wondered if everybody in the Long Branch was more observant than he was.

“His name is Ryerson,” Butler said. “He’s a bounty hunter, and I don’t know what he’s doing here.”

Corbin’s mug hit the bar with a bang that startled Butler.

“A bounty hunter?” Corbin asked.

“Yes. Do you know him?”

“No,” the other man said, looking distracted, “no, I don’t know him…”

“I can introduce you—”

“No!” Corbin snapped. “Uh, no. Truth is I, uh, hate bounty hunters. I’m gonna turn in, Butler. Good night.”

Corbin headed for the door and Butler noticed that he gave Ryerson a wide berth. He also noticed the bounty hunter looking after Corbin until the gambler disappeared through the batwing doors. Seeing that Butler was alone, Kevin Ryerson picked his beer up from the bar and walked over to him.

“Hey, I watched you play tonight,” he said. “You’re very good. I could never tell when you had a hand and when you didn’t.”

“I get the feeling you’d be a good poker player, Ryerson,” Butler said.

“Who me? No, I couldn’t take all the tension—you know, waiting to see what the other players have? That’s not for me.”

Once again Butler saw amusement in the man’s eyes, and he didn’t like it. Suddenly, he didn’t want to be around the man.

“I think I’m going to turn in, Ryerson.”

“Where are you staying?” Ryerson asked him. “I’ll walk back with you.”

“The Dodge House.”

“Wow. Expensive hotel.”

“I like to stay in nice places.”

“Me, I watch my money,” Ryerson said. “Stay in the worst places. Can I walk with you?”

“Actually, I’m waiting for Ben Thompson,” Butler lied. “He’s staying there, too. We’re going to walk together.”

“That’s a good idea,” Ryerson said. “You never know when somebody’s gunnin’ for you, you know? Like some bad loser? It’s good to have a man like Thompson watchin’ your back.”

“Yeah, it is,” Butler said.

“Well then,” Ryerson said, setting his mug on the bar next to the one left by Corbin, “guess I’ll head on back to my rat trap of a hotel. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Butler said, “maybe you will.”

Ryerson smiled, touched the brim of his hat and said, “Thanks for lettin’ me hang around you.”

“Maybe we learned a little something about each other,” Butler told him.

“I believe you’re right, Butler,” the bounty hunter said. “I believe you’re right.”

Ryerson turned and left the Long Branch without a look back. Butler wondered which of them had learned more?