“That’s yore business, not mine.”
“Would you, if you were in my place?”
Butch inhaled deeply, his lips and eyes shut tightly, as the smoke drifted lazily from his nostrils. Then he opened his eyes slowly and looked at her steadily.
“If I was in yore place, I’d grab the first train out of town, and I’d keep goin’.”
“You would?” She studied Butch curiously. “And lose the money?”
“Ten thousand dollars is a lot of money,” he said slowly. “It would shore be great to have that much money—and be alive to enjoy it. But it wouldn’t do yuh a bit of good to have it comin’ to yuh, unless yuh was alive to enjoy it.”
Della knew what Butch meant. He was still loyal enough to Marsh to not make a definite statement, but she understood that he was warning her to keep away from the Triangle X ranch.
“Thank yuh, Butch,” she said simply. “I guess I’ll play your hunch.”
“There’s a train through here at midnight.”
“I’m not interested in trains,” she said, and left the room.