CHAPTER 21

Butler noticed Jerry, the bartender, beckoning him over to the bar.

“What is it?”

“Victor just told me to tell you that Long-haired Jim Courtwright just came in.”

“Courtwright,” Butler repeated, then said, “Oh, the sheriff?”

“That’s right.”

“Has he ever come in here before?” Butler asked.

“A few times.”

“So? What makes this time different?”

“He asked about you.”

Butler looked around.

“Where is he?”

Jerry inclined his head toward the front of the saloon and said, “At the end of the bar, having a free beer.”

“Set me up with one down there,” Butler said. “I’ll talk to him.”

Butler walked down the bar until he reached the end, where a tall, slender long-haired man with a badge was nursing a beer. At the same time Jerry arrived with a beer for him.

“Jerry, get the sheriff another one,” he said. “That one’s getting warm.”

“Mr. Butler, I’ll bet,” Courtwright said.

“You’d win that bet, Sheriff,” Butler said. “You a gambling man?”

“No, sir,” Courtwright said, “not in the least. It’s the reason I keep on tryin’ to close down places like this.”

“Seems to me your time would be better spent trying to close places like the Bloody Spur.”

“Don’t you worry,” Courtwright said. “I got my sights set on shutting down all of Hell’s Half Acre.”

Jerry came with the sheriff’s fresh beer, but when he tried to remove the half-empty mug left on the bar, the man violently grabbed it and drained it, then gave Jerry back the empty mug.

“What brings you here, Sheriff?” Butler asked.

“I stop in from time to time,” the lawman said.

“Yeah, but this time you asked for me.”

“Well, I thought I’d just make the acquaintance of the new man in town,” Courtwright said. “Lots of card players come in, gamble a few days, and move on. It seems you’re stayin’ awhile. It would be rude of me not to be hospitable.”

“Well, thank you kindly for the welcome,” Butler said.

“I also wanted to talk to you about a rumor I heard goin’ around.”

“Oh? What would that be?”

“A rumor that there’s gonna be lots of trouble in some of our town’s gambling establishments.”

“Trouble?”

“Gunplay, killin’, that sort of thing.”

“Now, Sheriff, why would that concern you?” Butler asked. “I would think you wouldn’t mind some gunplay and killin’ between gamblers. Kind of do your job for you.”

“Yeah, you’d think that. Wouldn’t ya?” Courtwright said. “Except I’m just lookin’ to run you fellers out of town, not kill you.”

“Well, we appreciate it, Sheriff,” Butler said. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“You’re a real operator, aintcha?”

“Sorry?”

“You already got yerself situated here at the top gambling house in town,” Courtrwright said. “Now, how’d you do that?”

Butler smiled and said, “Charm, Sheriff, pure charm.”

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