Butler's Wager

CHAPTER 54

As Butler was passing the Lady Gay Neal Brown came out, spotted him, and waved. Butler slowed so the other man could join him.

“Where are you off to?” Brown asked.

“Just walking,” Butler lied. “Thought I’d just walk to the train station and back.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“Something wrong?”

“Ah,” Brown said, falling into step with Butler, “Jim and I are getting’ on each other’s nerves.”

“What about?”

“He thinks I need to give him more room.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Because he’ll get hisself shot.”

“It’s been a pretty quiet week,” Butler said.

“I know,” Brown said. “I don’t like it. What’s been happening with you? Your luck holdin’?”

“Actually, no,” Butler said. “I’ve lost the last two nights. I lose tonight it might be time to move on.”

“You’ll miss the fireworks.”

“You really think there’s going to be some?”

“Oh, yeah,” Brown said. “It’s gonna come to that. Mark my words.”

Butler frowned. Even with him in town Masterson and Brown would be outnumbered. He was hoping the man he’d sent the telegram to would arrive, freeing him up to leave with a clear conscience.

“Ain’t nobody shot at you in a week,” Neal Brown said. “That must be nice.”

“Refreshing,” Butler said, “would be a better word.”

Updegraff left the Lady Gay by the back door and hurried over to the train station. He was wearing his pistol and carrying a rifle. Today was the day he’d been waiting for. He didn’t understand why Peacock hadn’t done something like this a long time ago.

When he reached the station he mounted the platform, went to the window to talk to the clerk.

“What time’s the train due?”

“’bout half an hour,” the clerk said, “give or take.”

“Give or take what?”

“An hour,” the clerk said, and cackled. “Never can tell what’s happenin’ up the line.”

Updegraff scowled and turned away from the man.

When the bartender, Lenny, finally arrived Peacock went straight up to his room to collect his rifle. He also removed the little pocket gun he usually carried, and strapped on his holster. He hadn’t used any of his guns in a while, but it wasn’t something you forgot how to do, and today…today was a special occasion.

Jim Masterson couldn’t sit at his desk.

For one thing, he didn’t think of it as his desk. His desk was over in the marshal’s office.

He paced the office, feeling bad about snapping at Neal Brown. The man was his most loyal friend and didn’t deserve to be talked to like that. Masterson finally decided to go back out and apologize to him.

When he opened the door and stepped out of the office, he noticed that Brown was gone. He’d probably gone for that walk he’d been pushing him to take.

Masterson decided to go and find his friend and make his apology. As he approached the batwing doors he noticed that Lenny was behind the bar and Peacock was gone.

“Lenny, where’s Peacock?”

“Don’t know where he is, Mr. Masterson,” the bartender said, “but he just left.”

“He didn’t say where he was goin’?”

“No,” Lenny said, “but he was movin’ pretty fast as he came down the stairs, and he was carrying his rifle. Sure looked like he was wearing his holster, too.”

“Shit,” Masterson said beneath his breath, and hurried outside.

“I notice you been sittin’ out in front of your hotel all week durin’ the day,” Brown said. “Just watchin’ the town go by?”

“Pretty much.”

“I had an idea you might be doin’ something’ else.”

“Like what?”

“Like, maybe, waitin’ for somethin’—or somebody.”

Butler kept staring straight ahead and didn’t comment.

“I also noticed you been takin’ this walk over to the station for the past couple of days.”

“Have you been watching me, Neal?”

“Ain’t had much of anythin’ else to do,” Brown said, “so I mosey over and look out the window or the door of the Lady Gay, and there you are, walkin’ to the station.”

Butler didn’t comment.

“So, who we waitin’ for, Butler?”

They came within sight of the station and Butler noticed something right away.

“What’s he doing there?” he asked.

Brown looked ahead and saw what Butler saw.

“Updegraff,” Brown said. “Sonofabitch. Him or Peacock—probably Peacock, cause Al ain’t got the brains God gave a fly—musta sent for somebody, and they’re comin’ in on today’s train.”

“Sent for someone,” Butler said. “You mean a gunman?”

“If I know Peacock,” Brown said, “and he’s desperate enough to do this, it’ll be more than one.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

Brown grabbed Butler’s arm to stop his progress, turned to face him.

“Time to talk straight, Butler,” Brown said. “Who’d you send for?”

“I didn’t send for anyone,” Butler said. “I sent a telegram, but I don’t know if he’s coming or not. I’ve just been…checking each day to see.”

“Is it somebody who’s gonna do us some good?”

“I think so.”

“Well,” Neal Brown said. “We come this far, tell me the rest. Who is it?”

“It’s Bat,” Butler said. “Bat Masterson.”