Now it was Butler’s turn to stare at the cards on the table and think.
“You know what, Ben?” he said, finally. “I’m not going to do that. I’m just going to go with what we have on the table.”
“Showdown, Gents,” Trixie said.
Thompson turned over his hole card. A second deuce.
“Aces over deuces,” Trixie said, “two pair for Mr. Thompson. That’s a damn good hand in stud, especially two-handed.”
Butler turned over his hole card. It was an eight, giving him three of them.
“But that’s a better hand,” Trixie said. “Three eights to Mr. Butler, the winner.”
Thompson smiled, spread his hands, then reached across the table to shake hands with Butler. They both then took one of Trixie’s hands and kissed it.
“Why, gentlemen,” she said, in a fake southern accent, “ya’ll are gonna give me the vapors.”
Bill Harris stepped in and asked, “How would the three of you like a drink on the house?”
“You got any brandy behind that bar, Bill?” Thompson asked.
“I believe I could scrounge up a bottle, Ben.”
Thompson looked at Butler, who said, “Why not? Trixie?”
“I’m game,” she said. “I usually drink whiskey, but brandy’ll do if it’s free.”
Bill Harris brought over a bottle of brandy and four glasses as things got back to normal around them. He sat down with them and poured out four glasses.
“You mind if I join you?” he asked.
“Not at all, Bill,” Thompson said.
“I was watching you deal faro earlier,” Butler said to Trixie. “You’re very good.”
“Not that good,” she said. “Most of the men who play at my table are too busy looking down my dress.”
“Hey,” Thompson said to her, “you use what you’ve got, right? If you win, you’re good.”
“Well, thank you, both,” she said. “Maybe you should tell that to my boss.” She finished her brandy and stood up. “Gentlemen, time for this lady to turn in. Good night.”
They all stood as she walked away, watching until she was up the stairs and gone.
“You got a good one there, Bill,” Thompson said.
“I know it.” He picked up the brandy bottle. “See you gents here tomorrow night?”
“Maybe,” Butler said.
“Maybe not,” Thompson said. “I just took a big hit here. Might try my luck someplace else.”
“Well,” Harris said, “I hope it’s here.” He looked at Butler. “Let me know when you want to cash those in.”
As he walked away Butler said, “You’re luck was running good all night, until that last hand.”
“It only takes one,” Thompson told him. “What about your luck? Three running eights?”
“Like you say,” Butler answered, “it only takes one.”
“Or,” Ben Thompson added with a loud laugh, “in this case three, huh?”
Butler cashed in his chips with Bill Harris while Thompson had a beer at the bar.
“You’re makin’ a name for yourself in Dodge,” Harris said.
“It wasn’t my intention,” Butler said. “There’s enough men who’ve made names for themselves here. I’m not looking to join that group.”
“Don’t know if you have much choice now,” Harris said. “What if Chalk and I make it worth your while?”
“How do you mean?”
“Make it worth your while to gamble here, exclusively.”
“For how long?”
Harris shrugged. “We can come to some agreement.”
Butler accepted his cash from Harris and said, “Let me think about it.”
“All right,” Harris said. “That’s all I ask.”
Butler met Ben Thompson at the bar and told him about Bill Harris’s offer.
“Ah, you don’t want to do that,” Thompson said.
“Why not?”
“Why limit your options?” the other man asked.
“You’ve got suckers in every saloon in town. Why give that up?”
Butler listened and nodded.
“You never intended to take him up on it, did you?” Thompson asked.
“What makes you say that?”
“You’re too smart.”
“I’m not going to be here long enough to make that kind of deal worthwhile.”
“Whatever the reason,” Thompson said. “I’ve got to get these old bones to bed.”
Butler doubted Thompson was a year or two older than he was, but he knew what the man meant. His own bones were feeling kind of old.
“Me too.”
“Dodge House?” Thompson asked.
“That’s right.”
“Me too. Best hotel in town. Let’s walk over together.”
“You sure you want to do that?”
“Look,” Thompson said, “for whatever reason you’re a target, there’s just as many reasons why I’m one. You could get hit by lead meant for me just as easily as I could get hit by lead meant for you. At least this way we’re able to watch each other’s back.”
“Okay,” Butler said. “Let’s do it.”
“Besides,” Thompson added, “you’re carrying a lot of my cash, and I don’t want anybody trying to take it from you before I get a chance to.”
“Your concern is touching.”
CHAPTER 29
Updegraff found Red Sandland and his two partners in a popular Front Street cafe the next morning, having breakfast.
“What happened?” he asked, sitting down. He spoke to Sandland, ignored the other two. All three men seemed to be suffering after the night before.
“Couldn’t get it done yesterday, Al,” Sandland said, “but don’t worry. It’ll get done.”
“I know you couldn’t get it done yesterday,” Updegraff said. “That’s obvious. What I want to know is why?”
“He spotted me,” Sandland said. “He got suspicious. That meant we couldn’t catch him by surprise.”
“So now he knows you three are after him?”
“He only saw me,” Sandland said, “he didn’t see Dave and Willy.”
Updegraff stared at the other two men, who were concentrating on their flapjacks. To him “Dave and Willy” sounded like a circus act. Maybe he’d picked the wrong men for this job, but he’d already paid them most of the money Peacock had given him.
“All right,” he said. “Get it done today or tomorrow, and don’t spend the money until you do.”
“You sayin’ you’re gonna want the money back?”
“If you don’t do the job.”
Sandland studied Updegraff for a few moments. He knew the man had been a lawman in his time, albeit a crooked one. He also knew that his brother-in-law, A. J. Peacock, was a fair hand with a gun. So he figured, better to do the job than
