“What about my say so, Sheriff?” Butler asked.
“Sorry, Mister,” the lawman said, “but I don’t know you. I do know Jack, here, though. If he says you’re okay, I guess that’s good enough for me.”
Butler looked at Jack, who shrugged.
“One thing’s got me puzzled, though,” the sheriff admitted.
“And what’s that?” Butler asked.
“If they was after you, why’d they kick in that door?”
“Good question,” Butler said. “I guess maybe they got the wrong room number.”
“Could be,” the sheriff said. “Well, I’ll get me some boys to carry them bodies out.”
The sheriff left room seven and Butler asked Jack, “Another drink?”
“One more ain’t gonna hurt nothin’,” Jack said.
Ty Butler closed the door and poured them each two fingers more of whiskey.
“Pretty smart move,” Jack said.
“What is?”
“Checkin’ into one room but stayin’ across the hall,” Jack said. “All you gotta do is slip the clerk a few extra dollars.”
“That what I did?” Butler asked.
Jack shrugged. “Don’t matter, I guess. Whatever you got doggin’ your trail, it’s your business. I think you forgot about somethin’, though.”
“What’s that?”
“That marker the Troy kid gave each of us for ten thousand,” Jack told him.
“I figured that was no good,” Butler said.
“No, the kid’s father will stand good the debt,” Jack said.
“I’ve got to get going at first light,” Butler said.
“You gonna walk away from that marker?”
“Not if you’ll give me fifty cents on the dollar.”
Jack looked surprised.
“Five thousand for a ten thousand marker?”
“Five thousand profit for you.”
“You serious?”
“Yep.”
“Ain’t got that much on me.”
“Meet me at the livery stable in the morning,” Butler said. “I’ll sell it to you then.”
“You got a deal, friend.”
Jack tossed off the last of his drink and put the glass down on the top of the chest.
“Guess I’ll turn in myself, so’s I can get up nice and early.”
“I’ll see you then.”
Jack paused as he opened the door and said, “Hope the rest of your night is quiet.”
“So do I.”
When Butler came out of the livery leading his saddled horse he found Three-Eyed Jack waiting for him outside.
“Nice roan,” Jack said. “He got a name?”
“Not really,” Butler said. “I just usually call him Stupid.”
Jack looked at the horse’s face and eyes, and said with a shrug, “It suits him, I guess.”
Jack took an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Butler.
“Five thousand dollars, as agreed.”
Butler accepted the envelope and put it in his inside jacket pocket without counting the money. This plus what he had won last night would be a good stake for Dodge City, and his trip west. He took the marker from Sam Troy and handed it over to Three-Eyed Jack. After that the two men shook hands.
“I gotta ask you somethin’,” Jack said.
“Go ahead.”
“You got a price on your head?”
“Yeah, I guess so, but not from the law.”
“Personal?”
“Yes.”
“You know how much?”
“No idea.”
“How long?”
Butler shrugged. “Years.”
“Jesus,” Jack said. “Somebody’s got a long memory.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Well,” Jack said, “you’re a young man. Maybe you’ll just outlive whoever it is.”
“At this rate,” Butler said, “I doubt it.”
He mounted his horse.
“Anybody else comes this way lookin’ for you I’ll point them in the wrong direction.”
“I appreciate that, Jack.”
“You might think about changin’ your name,” Jack said, “if you ain’t already.”
“I have thought about it,” Butler said. “My name’s all I got, Jack.”
“I can understand that.”
Butler nodded, turned his horse and rode out of Wichita.
CHAPTER 6
Jim Masterson looked up as the door to the office opened and former Mad Dog Kelley came walking in, followed by Neal Brown.
“Is it official?” Jim asked.
“As official as it gets,” Kelley said. “I’m out as mayor, and you and Neal have been fired.”
Ex-City Marshal Jim Masterson frowned. His brother Bat had had his own problems in Dodge and been exiled, and now the same was likely to happen to him. The new mayor, A. B. Webster, was wasting no time in cleaning house.
He looked at his now ex-City Deputy Marshal Neal Brown and said, “Reckon we best clear out of here, Neal.”
“I ain’t got much to pack,” Brown said.
“What about George and Fred?” Jim asked. George Hinkle was sheriff, and Fred Singer undersheriff.
“Both out,” Kelley said.
“Who’s replacing them?”
“That I don’t know,” the ex-mayor said. “You boys up for a drink? I’m buyin’.”
“Celebratin’, Dog?” Jim asked.
“Why not?” Kelley asked. “Our days in Dodge may be numbered. Might as well take the time to celebrate.”
“The Lady Gay?” Neal Brown asked.
“As good a place as any,” Jim said.
