Butler realized that his silence was saying more than he ever could, but decided to maintain it.
“Drink at the bar?” Butler asked.
“I have a previous appointment with a lady,” Thompson said, as they stood up. “Perhaps next time. Besides, Corbin’s waitin’ at the bar to buy you one.”
Butler looked over at the bar where Corbin was standing.
“I guess he left Trixie’s table with some money after all.”
Butler and Thompson started to walk away from the table and were confronted by Bill Harris.
“Done for the night?”
“Yes, we’re done, Bill,” Thompson said.
“I’ll have those chips cashed in for you, gents.” He waved two girls over.
“I’ll just go with the little lady and cash them myself, Bill,” Thompson said, “but Butler, here, has somebody waitin’ for him at the bar.”
“Just give your chips to Heather, Mr. Butler, and she’ll bring you your cash at the bar.”
Butler hesitated, then said, “All right,” and handed the pretty, chubby brunette his chips.
“Don’t waste any time, Heather,” Bill Harris told her. “Mr. Butler will be at the bar.”
“No, sir.”
“Thanks, Bill,” Butler said. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Butler walked over to the bar, leaving the saloon owner standing in the middle of the floor.
“Beer or whiskey?” Corbin asked.
“Beer.”
While they waited he noticed that Ryerson was standing at the other end of the bar. Was he just trying to make Butler uncomfortable?
“There ya go,” Corbin said, handing Butler his beer.
“Thanks.” Butler sipped. “How did you do at the faro table?”
“The dealer was too beautiful for me to concentrate,” Corbin said. “I lost a few dollars and gave up. Then I asked her to have a drink with me, but she told me she didn’t fraternize with the patrons. How did you do?”
“I did all right.”
At that point Heather appeared and handed Butler a thick sheaf of bills. He took one out and handed it to her.
“Thanks, Mister.”
As Butler tucked the money away inside his jacket, Corbin said, “Looks like you did more than all right.”
“You seemed to have left ahead,” Butler said.
“Just about,” the other man said. He was taller, more slender than Butler and—like Butler and Ben Thompson—was wearing a dark suit. “I was cleanin’ up until you came along, and then things got worse when we moved to Ben’s table. It was time for me to go.”
“What’s on your mind?”
“Sorry?”
“You said you wanted to buy me a drink. I thought you might have something on your mind.”
“Not really,” Corbin said. “I just admire the way you handle yourself at the table. You know your way around a deck of cards.”
“Well, thanks…”
“You also did me a favor, keeping me from killing that sore loser, Lane.”
“I didn’t see that it would do anyone any good,” Butler said. “In fact, if I was you I’d be careful when I left here. He might be hanging around outside.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. By the way, who’s the fella at the end of the bar? He keeps watchin’ us. He was watching’ us play, too.”
Butler wondered if everybody in the Long Branch was more observant than he was.
“His name is Ryerson,” Butler said. “He’s a bounty hunter, and I don’t know what he’s doing here.”
Corbin’s mug hit the bar with a bang that startled Butler.
“A bounty hunter?” Corbin asked.
“Yes. Do you know him?”
“No,” the other man said, looking distracted, “no, I don’t know him…”
“I can introduce you—”
“No!” Corbin snapped. “Uh, no. Truth is I, uh, hate bounty hunters. I’m gonna turn in, Butler. Good night.”
Corbin headed for the door and Butler noticed that he gave Ryerson a wide berth. He also noticed the bounty hunter looking after Corbin until the gambler disappeared through the batwing doors. Seeing that Butler was alone, Kevin Ryerson picked his beer up from the bar and walked over to him.
“Hey, I watched you play tonight,” he said. “You’re very good. I could never tell when you had a hand and when you didn’t.”
“I get the feeling you’d be a good poker player, Ryerson,” Butler said.
“Who me? No, I couldn’t take all the tension—you know, waiting to see what the other players have? That’s not for me.”
Once again Butler saw amusement in the man’s eyes, and he didn’t like it. Suddenly, he didn’t want to be around the man.
“I think I’m going to turn in, Ryerson.”
“Where are you staying?” Ryerson asked him. “I’ll walk back with you.”
“The Dodge House.”
“Wow. Expensive hotel.”
“I like to stay in nice places.”
“Me, I watch my money,” Ryerson said. “Stay in the worst places. Can I walk with you?”
“Actually, I’m waiting for Ben Thompson,” Butler lied. “He’s staying there, too. We’re going to walk together.”
“That’s a good idea,” Ryerson said. “You never know when somebody’s gunnin’ for you, you know? Like some bad loser? It’s good to have a man like Thompson watchin’ your back.”
“Yeah, it is,” Butler said.
“Well then,” Ryerson said, setting his mug on the bar next to the one left by Corbin, “guess I’ll head on back to my rat trap of a hotel. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Butler said, “maybe you will.”
Ryerson smiled, touched the brim of his hat and said, “Thanks for lettin’ me hang around you.”
“Maybe we learned a little something about each other,” Butler told him.
“I believe you’re right, Butler,” the bounty hunter said. “I believe you’re right.”
Ryerson turned and left the Long Branch without a look back. Butler wondered which of them had learned more?
CHAPTER 46
Butler stepped through the batwing doors and stood in front of the Long Branch Saloon. Corbin was gone, Ryerson was gone, Ben Thompson was gone. It was quiet on the street—too quiet to suit him. Dodge City should never be this quiet.
The only time towns like this were this quiet was when everybody knew that something was about to happen. Of course, this late at night there wouldn’t be many people on the street, anyway. It was just late, the saloons would close soon, and people had gone home.
He had an itch in the center of his back, like somebody had a gun trained on him.
Ryerson annoyed him. If the man was there for him, why didn’t he just get it over with? And if he was after him, why did he help him against Sandland and the other two? Was it the money that was on his head? Hell, he could have collected it, anyway.
And Corbin, his entire attitude had changed when he found out that Ryerson was a bounty hunter. Did he have a price on his head? Was he thinking Ryerson might have been in Dodge looking for him?
Butler turned and started walking in the direction of the Dodge House. He decided to have it out with Ryerson tomorrow. If the man wanted to play a game of nerves, Butler didn’t have the time to indulge him. He couldn’t concentrate on poker and Ryerson at the same time. He’d managed it tonight, but Ben Thompson had been right. As skillfully as he played, he’d had a good run of luck the past couple of days. But most of the time he depended on his skill, and for it to work for him he had to give the game all his attention.
But what would he do—what should he do—if he found out that the bounty hunter was in Dodge for Hank? Warn him, sure, but back his play? He hadn’t known the man very long, but long enough for Hank to confide in him—sort of. And long enough for him to tell Hank his own story.