Butler's Wager

CHAPTER 56

Bat was wearing two guns, and reloaded both from the cover of the railroad car. From the other end of the platform there was still gunfire.

“I’m gonna jump down from the other side of the train and circle around,” Bat told Butler.

“Go,” Butler said. “I’ll keep them busy from here.”

Bat palmed both guns, moved through to the other side of the train, and dropped down to the ground.

Butler saw Ruger’s men moving toward him, moving from car to car, cover to cover, and knew he’d have to move as well. He fired off two shots, then turned and made his way to the end of the platform again. He was going to circle the depot again, then decided to go around the train and join Bat. He fired off the rest of his shots, then made for the train, once again reloading.

When Jim Masterson reached the train station, lead was flying all over. He saw Neal Brown backing up on the platform, moving toward him, returning fire, and went to join him.

“What the hell is goin’ on?” he shouted.

“Peacock,” Brown said. “He’s tryin’ to kill Bat, him and some gunnies he hired.”

“Bat’s here?”

Brown nodded. “Got off the train.”

Peacock was firing from cover, and behind him Ruger joined him. Jim Masterson saw the hat and vest, and the cut of the man’s figure, and said, “He hired Jason Ruger.”

“Ruger? Is that who it is?”

“How many men with him?”

“He got off the train with three, then there’s Peacock and Updegraff.”

“Updegraff! Where?”

“I put him down.”

“Who’s at the other end of the platform?”

“Bat and Butler.”

“Butler, too? That makes it four to six. Not bad.”

Brown and Jim backed down the steps of the platform to use them for cover. The train station was at the end of Front Street, so behind them some of the buildings were taking lead. Suddenly, Bat appeared from behind the engine, and behind him Butler. The joined Jim and Brown.

“Bat,” Jim said.

“Jim. Got yourself into some trouble, I see.”

“I thought you were the one in trouble.”

“It don’t matter!” Brown said.

“He’s right,” Bat agreed. He turned and looked at Butler. “Who are you?”

“His name’s Butler,” Jim said. “He’s a friend.”

“So he told me.”

The four men conversed while returning fire from up the platform.

“Let’s take this off the platform,” Jim suggested, “and into town.”

“Gonna be some damage,” Bat said.

“Fuck ’em,” Jim said, “they fired us.”

“Let’s go, then. Will they follow?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jim said. “Peacock wants to finish this.”

“Your partner?” Bat asked, confused.

“Not anymore.”

The four men backed away, then turned and headed down Front Street. Making a stand would be easier out in the open.

“They’re runnin’,” Ruger said to Peacock. “Do we let them go?”

“No!” Peacock said. “I brought you here to do some killin’. They’re just takin’ the fight into town.”

“What about the local law?”

“Not a problem,” Peacock said. “Just earn your money.”

“Let’s go after ’em, then.”

He turned and waved for his men to follow. They obeyed, even the one with a bullet in his hip. Peacock let them all go first, and then moved in behind them. He didn’t know if Updegraff was dead on the platform, but he wasn’t worried about it at the moment.

The gun battle spilled onto the street. Jim’s plan at first had been to hit-and-run, move from cover to cover, but suddenly he was cool, not angry.

“Let’s just stand and take ’em,” he said.

“Suits me,” Neal Brown said. “I been wantin’ to put a bullet into your partner for months.”

“Butler?” Jim said.

“I’m with you.”

“Bat?”

“Why the hell not?” Bat said. “I don’t know what the hell is goin’ on, anyway.”

By the time Ruger, his men, and Peacock made their way to Front Street, Bat, Jim, Neal Brown, and Butler were fanned out in the street.

Peacock, Ruger, and his men stopped in their tracks.

“Come and get it,” Jim Masterson said.

The streets were empty. The townspeople had taken cover at the first sound of shots. There was nobody with a badge to be seen anywhere. Dodge City had suddenly become a ghost town, but if you looked closely you’d see faces in almost every window. Scared off the streets, folks were not too frightened to want to watch the action.

“That sonofabitch Singer,” Neal Brown said.

“Fred Singer?” Bat asked.

“He’s the new marshal,” Jim said. “He’s stayin’ away from this, probably on orders from the new mayor.”

“New mayor, new marshal,” Bat said. “A whole lot of things have changed.”

“And a whole lot have stayed the same,” Jim said.

The two brothers were standing shoulder to shoulder, Neal Brown to Jim’s right, Butler to Bat’s left.

“Think they’ll turn a run?” Bat asked.

“They’re probably getting’ paid a lot of money for this,” Jim said. “Enough so that your legend won’t intimidate them.”

“Well, hell,” Bat said, “what good is it, then?”

“Here they come,” Butler said.

Lead and gunsmoke filled the air, but only one was lethal.

The two groups of men advanced on each other, firing as they came. All were cool in the face of danger, but the Mastersons, Neal Brown, and Butler were more deadly accurate with their weapons.

Ruger’s men, supposedly experienced, fired quickly and wildly. As hot bits of lead flew around one tore through Butler coat, singing his side. The gambler fired coolly, putting one of Ruger’s men down. Bullets could be heard striking the sides of buildings and breaking glass. Some of the townspeople watching from their windows were forced to scatter. Later Butler would wonder about those wild shots, would come to the conclusion that faced with imminent death at the hands of men like the Masterson brothers and Neal Brown, even the most professional of men could panic.

Ruger’s men fell one by one, Butler, the Mastersons and Neal Brown continuing to waste little or no lead. Finally, Ruger himself was struck by several shots—they’d argue later over whose—and joined his men on the ground.

The gunfire stopped.

The smoke floated up and away, turning into tendrils as it drifted higher and higher.

“Where the hell is Peacock?” Neal Brown demanded.

Jim Masterson’s partner was nowhere to be found.