His indifferent attitude about the death of one of his men did not escape Bodine, who was not known for his compassion for the unfortunate victims of violence. But even he felt a sense of loyalty to one’s own gang. “Like I said, we didn’t get close enough to get a good look at him. I don’t know if it was Hawk or some Injun tryin’ to steal a horse.” Actually, he was pretty sure it was Hawk, he just wanted to aggravate Booth.

“I know damn well it was Hawk,” Booth insisted, rising to the bait.

“I’da thought you and Jesse mighta wanted to get out there and help ’em round up your horses.” He paused, then said, “I mean, after you knew he was gone—whoever it was that done it—and it was safe outside.”

Again, he was not successful in hiding his sarcasm, and again, it did not go unnoticed by Booth. “Let’s get one thing straight, old man,” he informed him, no longer willing to play word games. “We’re spendin’ a helluva lot of money in this dump of yours. We’re payin’ you to take care of our livestock, so you damn well better make sure those horses ain’t gone. From what you’ve charged us to rent two rooms, I sure as hell ain’t plannin’ to get out there to round up horses I’m payin’ you to take care of.”

Bodine didn’t like the dressing-down, but he took it because of the violence he knew the two brothers were capable of. He didn’t respond at once, and when he did, it was in a calm voice. “What about your friend? Whaddaya wanna do about Trip’s body?”

“Hell, I don’t care,” Booth at first replied, then reconsidered. “Have your man bury him somewhere. Bring his weapons and other personal stuff to me, whatever he’s got on him.” He glared at him, a smug smile on his face, waiting to see if Bodine wanted to push his luck any further. An amused witness to the discussion, Jesse sensed the tone in Booth’s voice that usually signaled an explosion about to happen. Bodine recognized it as well and decided not to push the dangerous man any further. He nodded and turned to go back outside. “Before you go out there again, tell ol’ Dinner Bell to make us a fresh pot of coffee. I need something to settle this rotgut whiskey you sell.” Bodine didn’t reply but turned toward the kitchen door to do Booth’s bidding and stopped once more when he spoke again. “While you’re at it, tell her she needs to empty those damn chamber pots in our rooms. The air’s gettin’ downright rank up there.”

Thinking that was a little too much to put up with, Bodine replied, “Dinah Belle don’t perform no maid work. She does the cookin’.”