“I had an idea you might be doin’ something’ else.”
“Like what?”
“Like, maybe, waitin’ for somethin’—or somebody.”
Butler kept staring straight ahead and didn’t comment.
“I also noticed you been takin’ this walk over to the station for the past couple of days.”
“Have you been watching me, Neal?”
“Ain’t had much of anythin’ else to do,” Brown said, “so I mosey over and look out the window or the door of the Lady Gay, and there you are, walkin’ to the station.”
Butler didn’t comment.
“So, who we waitin’ for, Butler?”
They came within sight of the station and Butler noticed something right away.
“What’s he doing there?” he asked.
Brown looked ahead and saw what Butler saw.
“Updegraff,” Brown said. “Sonofabitch. Him or Peacock—probably Peacock, cause Al ain’t got the brains God gave a fly—musta sent for somebody, and they’re comin’ in on today’s train.”
“Sent for someone,” Butler said. “You mean a gunman?”
“If I know Peacock,” Brown said, “and he’s desperate enough to do this, it’ll be more than one.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
Brown grabbed Butler’s arm to stop his progress, turned to face him.
“Time to talk straight, Butler,” Brown said. “Who’d you send for?”
“I didn’t send for anyone,” Butler said. “I sent a telegram, but I don’t know if he’s coming or not. I’ve just been…checking each day to see.”
“Is it somebody who’s gonna do us some good?”
“I think so.”
“Well,” Neal Brown said. “We come this far, tell me the rest. Who is it?”
“It’s Bat,” Butler said. “Bat Masterson.”
CHAPTER 55
The air was dead still.
In the distance they could hear the train whistle.
“This could be bad,” Brown said. “Peacock’s men are probably on that train.”
“And we don’t know for sure if Bat Masterson is.”
“We don’t know if Bat’s gonna come at all,” Brown said. “Jim is gonna be…I don’t know a better word for mad.”
“Livid.”
“Is that a word?”
“It is.”
“It sounds good enough. Does Bat know who sent the telegram?”
“No,” Butler said, “I didn’t sign it.”
“What did it say?”
“‘Peacock and Updegraff are planning to kill Jim. Come quick.’ Something like that.”
“Well,” Brown said, “my money is on him comin’ after a message like that.”
“Yeah, but maybe not on this train.”
“Updegraff hasn’t seen us yet,” Brown said. “We can go around and come at the station from the other side. If Al is here, Peacock will be along. Come on.”
By the time they got into position they could see that Peacock had joined Updegraff on the platform. They were both wearing guns and carrying rifles.
“They’re not gonna waste any time,” Brown said. “As soon as the men they hired get off the train, they’ll head for Jim.”
“All this just to get rid of Jim Masterson?” Butler said, shaking his head.
“To kill him, not just get rid of him.”
The train would pull in any minute.
“If Bat is on that train he’s gonna walk right into it,” Brown said.
“Yeah, but what are the chances he’ll be on this train?” Butler asked. “That’d be some coincidence.”
“I’m goin’ back around to the other side, now that Peacock’s here. If we have to take a hand we might as well do it from both sides.”
“Okay.”
“If somethin’ happens don’t wait for me,” Brown said. “Do what you gotta do.”
“You do the same.”
As Brown left to circle back around, Butler took out his gun, checked his loads, and slid it back into his holster just as the train pulled in.
“You know what this fella Ruger looks like?” Updegraff asked.
“Yeah, I know ’im.”
“How many is he gonna have with him?”
“Three, I think.”
The train pulled in, slowed down, eventually came to a stop. A conductor stepped down to the platform first, and then other passengers. Half a dozen people disembarked—a woman with a child, a couple of men who looked like drummers, a man and his wife—before Peacock saw Jason Ruger step down. He was a tall, wide-shouldered man with a flat-brimmed black hat and a black vest. Three men stepped off right after him, and looked to him for their next step. Ruger looked down the platform and saw Peacock, who waved.
“Okay,” Peacock said, “this is it. Let’s go meet ’em. They’ll need to get their horses from the stock car.”
As they started down the platform Peacock saw a man step down several cars beyond Ruger and his men. He recognized the man, and couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Damn!” he said.
“What?” Updegraff asked.
“It’s Goddamned Bat Masterson!”
“Where?” Updegraff asked, looking around wildly. For a man who claimed not to be afraid of Bat Masteson, he was already sweating.
Butler saw the man from the back, but instinctively knew it was Bat Masterson. He saw that Peacock had recognized him as well. Both he and Updegraff pulled their guns and Peacock shouted to other men on the platform, “Bat Masterson!”
Ruger heard the word Masterson. He didn’t cared if it was Jim or Bat, all he cared about was getting paid. He saw Peacock and the man with him draw their guns, and turned to his men.
“This is it!” he said.
Well trained, none of his men complained, nor did he, about how fast they were being pressed into service.
They all drew their guns, and suddenly six men were facing a surprised Bat Masterson.
Neal Brown saw what was happening, and was too far to help Bat right away. He had to get closer. He drew his gun and mounted the platform.
“Watch out, Masterson!” Butler shouted, running up onto the platform, gun in hand.
He didn’t wait for Bat to react. He fired off a shot immediately, and one of Ruger’s men caught the bullet on the hip and spun around.
Bat heard the warning shout behind him, but his hand was already streaking to his gun. Somehow Peacock
