That's a layered question. Complicated in the way only they can be--Boyd answers, having followed Raylan to the jukebox, with a slight flourish of his hands. It's quick, long fingers outstretched, midway to raising them like a man of god. Far more casual, though the smile is gone.

"Harlan's a small town," he reasons. There's more to it, there's always more--Arlo is skilled, if old, and his expertise and connections are things Boyd finds useful. There's another part, subconscious at best: Raylan. They'll always orbit each other, even if they're both playing with fire. He does, however, give as much of a straight answer as he can.

"Last I heard, he's recently enjoyed the fine dining that Diggers has to provide, most notably during happy hour." Boyd's going to be making one hell of a quick phone call after Raylan leaves--just in case Devil brought him there. But it's information and the type of information that Boyd doesn't give lightly. A gesture, of some sort. Or a ploy. "If you see him there, I do hope you'll be kind enough to remind him that our specials are infinitely better."