Texas Bluff

CHAPTER 13

Over the next few days another poker game of grand proportions did not come together. Butler played in a couple of games that petered out after he won most of the money.

On the fourth day he was in the White Elephant, standing at the bar, when Short came walking over to him.

“Looks like Bat was right about you,” he said.

“Right about what?”

“You’re scaring off the competition,” Short said. “By all accounts you’re a helluva poker player.”

“I’m sure you can put a game together with all your connections.”

“I have a few fellas comin’ to town that may interest you,” Short said.

“Oh? Who?”

“Let’s wait until they actually get here,” Short said. “Just stay around at least a couple more days. See the sights of Fort Worth.”

“I’ve been around town,” Butler said.

“Just don’t go into any of those downtown places,” Short said. “The city fathers are up in arms about gambling halls skinnin’ customers, and it’s none of our doin’. It’s those damned places. I ought to go down there and shoot a couple of them up.”

“Is that wise?”

“No, damn it, it ain’t,” Short said. “But it’s what I want to do. Hey.” He lit up like he just had a great idea. “Why don’t you come with me?”

“To shoot the places up.”

“No, I’m havin’ a meetin’ down there this afternoon with a fella called Cramer. We got some business together. Come along.”

“Why would you want me in on your business?”

“Bat said you do a pretty fair job of watchin’ a fella’s back,” Short said. “I’m goin’ to Hell’s Half Acre—which, by the way, covers more like three acres. I think I need someone I can count on behind me.”

“I’m flattered that you’d think of me, Luke,” Butler said. “Sure, I’d be happy to go with you. Am I going to need my horse?”

“We can take a cab,” Short said. “Actually, we could probably walk it, but I think a cab would be better. I’ll have one out front at three o’clock. Meet me then, okay?”

“Three o’clock, out front,” Butler said. “I’ll be there.”

Butler made it back to the White Elephant early, so he went to the bar for a beer. The bartender who greeted him the first night came over with a smile.

“Whataya have, Mr. Butler?”

“How do you know my name?”

“Mr. Short made me memorize it,” the man said, “but I had it after the first time.”

“And what’s your name?”

“I’m Jerry.”

“Well, Jerry, I’ll have one of those cold beers that freeze your hand.”

“Comin’ up.”

Jerry went down the bar and returned with a frosty mug.

“Heard you and the boss were going to the Acre.”

“Word gets around fast.”

“Well, when somebody hates those places as much as Mr. Short does…You gonna help him shoot them up?”

“Nobody’s going to shoot any place up, Jerry,” Butler said. “I’m just going to watch his back.”

“Well, he’s gonna need it if you go there,” Jerry said. “Especially if he’s goin’ to see Cramer.”

“He mentioned a man named Cramer.”

“Yeah, he owns a few of those places downtown that are fleecin’ people,” Jerry said. “Mr. Short hates that. He likes to run a straight game. He don’t like when we get lumped in with those places in the newspapers.”

“I can’t blame him for that,” Butler said, “but we’re still not going to shoot any place up.”

“Well, maybe you can keep him from doin’ it,” Jerry said. “’Scuse me. More customers. Place is startin’ to fill up now.”

Butler turned around with his beer in hand and saw that Jerry was right. The gaming tables were starting to fill up, and he wondered how things were going up in the casino. He knew Luke Short was running the casino upstairs, but he wondered if the dapper little gambler also had a piece of the few downstairs games. Wouldn’t seem worth his while, since most of the players at these games were penny-ante locals.

He was half finished with the beer when he checked his watch and saw it was almost three. He didn’t know if he was supposed to watch Luke’s back or keep him from getting into trouble, but whichever it was he was ready.