finished, Butler. I’ll buy you a drink to celebrate.”
“Same offer apply to me, Thompson?” Ryerson asked.
Thompson ignored him and moved away from the two men.
“Come on, Butler,” Ryerson said. “Let’s do this before the street gets too busy. One of us might get trampled.”
“I still got some questions, Ryerson.”
“I told you, I don’t know who put up the—”
“Not that,” Butler said. “The other two.”
“Oh, them,” Ryerson said. “I thought I recognized one of them last night, but it didn’t come to me until mornin’.”
“Corbin?”
Ryerson nodded.
“He’s wanted in Missouri,” he said. “Small price, but I’ll take it. He’s third on my list.”
“And who’s the other one?”
“Ah,” Ryerson said, “baggin’ this man would add to my rep, if I cared about that. He’s supposed to be dead already, so seein’ him here was a surprise.”
Hank, Butler thought, it had to be Hank.
“But I think I’ll keep that to myself,” Ryerson said.
“Just on the off chance you kill me, you might decide to go after the bounty.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong.”
“We’ll see.”
Ryerson set his rifle down against a post and stepped into the street.
“Let’s do this,” he said. “I’ve got a long day.”
“What’s goin’ on?”
Thompson turned to see who had asked the question, saw the badge before he saw the man.
“Marshal.”
Fred Singer looked over at Butler and Ryerson.
“Who’s that talkin’ to Butler? It doesn’t look friendly.”
“It ain’t,” the gambler said, “in the next few minutes one of them is gonna kill the other.”
“What?” Singer asked. “Not in my town.”
Singer took one step and Thompson said, “I wouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“It’s between the two of them.”
Singer looked at him.
“Are you tellin’ me not to interfere?”
“Marshal,” Thompson said, “I’m just givin’ you a friendly warnin’.”
“Who’s play are you backin’, Thompson? Must be Butler’s. You think he’s gonna come out of this alive? Looks like gambler versus gunman to me. You better let me stop it.”
“This is what they both want, marshal,” Thompson said. “I think you and me just better butt out.”
Singer eyed Thompson warily. He knew the man was both gambler and gunman.
“If I try to stop them,” he asked, “will you stop me?”
“Let’s not find out.”
Ryerson backed into the street, his hand down by his gun. Butler stepped down, brushed his jacket back over his holster. Oddly, he thought it was refreshing to find someone who was coming right at him and not trying to bushwhack him.
Ryerson seemed very confident, not a trait Butler liked in a man he was facing with a gun.
Butler did what he did when he was trying to read a man’s face to determine what he was holding. He trained his eyes on Ryerson, concentrated, and waited for him to make a move.
Ryerson was thinking about one of his other targets as he faced Butler. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to take him the way he was taking this gambler. Corbin, the other gambler, would probably be easier than this, but he’d have to come up with a plan for the third man.
Nobody on the street realized what was happening until the two men drew and fired.
CHAPTER 50
Ben Thompson handed Butler a cold beer.
“Congratulations,” he said. “That’s quite a move you have.”
“I don’t think I should be congratulated for killing a man.”
“Look at it this way,” Thompson said. “You saved the other two men he was after. Did you get their names?”
Butler hesitated just a moment, then said, “No, he wouldn’t tell me.”
“Doesn’t matter, I guess,” Thompson said.
“What did you say to the marshal?” Butler asked. “I thought I was on my way to jail for sure.”
“I…reasoned with him,” Thompson said. “Made him realize it was somethin’ personal between you and Ryerson, and none of his business.”
“Well, whatever you said, I appreciate it,” Butler said. “At least I didn’t have to deal with the law over this.”
“He’s probably back at his office looking through his wanted posters,” Thompson warned.
“That’s okay,” Butler assured him. “He won’t find anything.”
“Ryerson seemed to think he was covered,” Thompson said. “Might pay for you to leave town, Butler.”
“I don’t think so.” Butler looked down into his beer.
“Was one of the other men Corbin?”
Butler looked at Thompson.
“How did you know that?”
“He skipped town,” Thompson said. “I saw him leavin’ in a hurry. If he’d just waited a little longer…”
“Probably doesn’t matter,” Butler said. “Somebody else will recognize him at some point.”
“How often have you had to go through this?”
“Plenty of times,” Butler said. “At least this one had the decency to come right at me.”
“Yeah,” Thompson said, “one of the decent bounty hunters.”
They were in the Lady Gay, being served by a bartender other than Updegraff. At that moment Neal Brown came through the batwing doors and spotted them.
“I heard what happened,” he said, joining them at the bar. “What was that about?”
Thompson looked at Butler, obviously wondering what his explanation was going to be.
“I have some things to take care of,” he said. “I’ll see you later, Butler. Brown.”
“Thompson.”
The two men nodded to each other and Ben Thompson left.
“I guess I never asked,” Butler said. “About you, and Jim and Ben Thompson.”
“We know each other,” Brown said. “Not friends. Bat never liked Ben’s brother, Billy. It’s…complicated.”
“Isn’t everything in this town?”
Brown looked at the bartender and signaled for him to bring a beer.
“You don’t have to tell me what this morning was about,” he said to Butler. “Not if it’s none of my business.”
“It was…personal.”
“I know Ryerson was a bounty hunter,” Brown said. “I don’t hold it against you if there’s paper out on you.”
