“Did you tell them to do that?”
“Anthony,” Updegraff said, “you said you wanted me to get rid of him so he couldn’t help Masterson.”
Peacock covered his face with one hand.
“I didn’t tell you to have him killed,” he said. “I wanted you to get rid of him! Get him out of town.”
“Well,” Updegraff said, defensively, “I thought when you said get rid of him—”
“Never mind,” Peacock said. “Look, Jim is lookin’ for you, so’s Neal Brown.”
“What for?”
“They want to see what you know about this mornin’,” Peacock said.
“So what do I do?”
“Stay out of sight for a few hours. Come into work later as if nothin’ happened. And if they ask what you know, just play dumb.” Peacock hesitated, then added coldly, “That should be real easy for you.”
Butler and Hank sat down with a huge pot of coffee.
“He’s a bounty hunter,” Hank complained, “but a real low-key one, you know? Keeps to himself. His reputation is only with those people who know him.”
“Well, I never heard of him,” Butler said. “I’ve got the newspaper editor here trying to find something out about him.”
“She won’t,” Hank said. “He don’t get ever written up in newspapers.”
“So where do you know him from?”
“I saw him twice,” Hank said. “Both times I thought he was after me, but he wasn’t.”
Hank had just told Butler that he was not only hiding from his own reputation, but that there was a price on his head as well.
“I watched him work, those two times. Brought both men in dead. He give them a choice. They drew and he killed ’em.”
“Faster than you?”
“I never said I was fast.”
“Any man cares for his gun the way you do, even after you’ve put it down, wasn’t slow.”
“Okay,” Hank said, “so I was fast, but faster than Ryerson? I never wanted to test it.”
“Where’s he from?”
“Who knows,” Hank said. “I only know a couple of places where he’s been. I seen him in Montana, and once in New Mexico.”
“He gets around.”
“He goes where the money is,” Hank said. “If the price is high enough, he goes for it.”
So the price on Hank was high enough that, on two occasions, he thought Ryerson was after him.
“So do you think he’s after you now? After you’ve put your gun away all this time?”
“Who knows?” Hank asked. “Could be a lot of men in Dodge City he’s after.”
“I wonder if he’ll check in with the marshal?”
“He’s a legitimate bounty hunter,” Hank said. “My guess is he would. He’d want to make sure the man had the funds to pay him.”
“Unless he expects to be paid on the other end.”
Hank paused for a moment, thinking. Butler assumed he was wondering if the bounty hunter could kill him here, or if he’d have to take him back to wherever it was they put the price on his head.
Butler believed in second chances. Hank—
And then, of course, there was the possibility that Ryerson was there for Tyrone Butler.
CHAPTER 39
Butler told Hank his story.
“My father had political affiliations in Philadelphia that got him and the rest of my family killed. He saved me by sending me west. He told me that no matter what happened, I should never come back.”
“And you haven’t?”
Butler shook his head.
“How long?”
“Almost ten years.”
“And is Butler your real name?”
“Yes.”
“But…why not change it, if you’re on the run and hidin’ out?” Hank asked.
“Because I’m not hiding out,” Butler said. “I won’t give up my name. If they want to try to collect a price on my head, let them come.”
“So, whoever killed your family…” Hank said
“A man,” Butler said, “a political faction or party?…I’m still really not sure.”
“They still have a price on your head?”
“Apparently. The last time I know for sure they tried was Wichita—a couple of weeks ago. And then this morning, at the Lady Gay, somebody tried…”
“Somebody?”
“Yeah,” Butler said, “we’re not sure if they were after me for me, or because I helped Jim Masterson the other night.”
“When you do somethin’ like that,” Hank said, “you’re definitely takin’ sides.”
“That’s what the marshal just told me today.”
“A couple of weeks ago the Masterson side might have been the right side, but since the election…”
“Yeah, I get that, too.”
“So you gonna move on?”
“No,” Butler said. “I came here to do some gambling and that’s what I’m going to do. What are you going to do?”
“About Ryerson?” Hank shrugged. “I don’t know. I definitely don’t want to go on the move again. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see if he recognized me. The fact that I’m supposed to be dead might put him off some.”
“And then what?”
“Well…to tell you the truth I’ll face him, but only because of the story you just told me.”
“My story? Why?”
“I admire that you won’t give up your name,” Hank said. “Mine…well, if I told you, you might not come and eat here no more, so I’ll still keep that to myself, but if Ryerson comes after me, I’ll just have to make a stand.”
“I think that’s a good plan,” Butler said.
“Well, I wish I could say the same for yours. If I was you, I’d saddle up and get the hell out of Dodge.”
“I appreciate the advice, Hank,” Butler said, “but I’ll go when I’m good and ready.”
“Well, you want somethin’ to eat while you’re waitin’?” the man offered. “On the house.”
“Can’t turn that down, can I?”
“Steak?”
“With all the fixin’s?”
“Comin’ up,” Hank said, and went back to the kitchen.
While he was gone Butler wondered about this man who was believed dead. He wondered how he was supposed to have been killed, but didn’t want to ask. There were things they had both held back about their stories and wouldn’t want to be asked about. Maybe, when Hank was good and ready, he’d tell Butler the rest of the story. As for Butler, he’d just keep the rest of his own story to himself a while longer.
