Unthinkably, we're thrown back to Cy, who continues to expound over the dying Leon while poor Janine daps at the geyser of blood coming out of the junkie's leg. Now, Janine, I know your training is in...another area, but have you never seen anyone get stabbed before? Damn, throw a tourniquet on there, somewhere. "Hearst moves his operating headquarters to Lead," Cy is saying. "I get to see to all his other-than-mining interests here in the camp." Even in his time of trial, Leon plays the underling. "Congratulations, sir," he gasps as Janine pokes his wound. "Thank you, Leon," Cy growls. "If those are your last words here on earth, you tell the Lord you went out stupid." See what I mean about Cy? Evil, but not smart. He had the talent, but not the brains, in other words, and thus he ended up a lackey. Of course, he may end up a living lackey, unlike Al who has chosen the more noble way and who is right now trying not swallow his mustache while Hearst looks over the throat-slit body of the substitute whore.

It's a tense moment. Al's holding his knife, trying to be cool while the goons train their guns on him and Hearst tests the girl's neck to see if she's really dead. What does he think, that Langrishe and Co. snuck over and whipped up some stage makeup? Well, it would have given them something to do, now that you mention it. Satisfied, he wipes the blood off his shoe where's he's stepped in it, and walks out. "Does she have family ought be notified?" Bullock asks as he and Al stand and contemplate everything that's just happened. "She's a sister, whores in Gunnison. 'Jen's Sister,' you could write to, 'care of the Yellow Bird.'" Bullock leaves without another word. They're both sickened and relieved. Al turns to Dan and asks for the only thing that makes him feel better at such times, a cleaning utensil: "I'd take that fuckin' scrub brush."

Outside, Hearst is hopping up on his wagon to take another look around camp when Merrick finally gets up the nerve to come and get his digs in, asking what Hearst thought about him not publishing an account of his shooting. It goes the opposite of how he planned. "I've stopped reading your paper, Merrick," Hearst says, blowing him off. "I'll have my people here start another one—to lie the other way." In the background we see Hawkeye's now unnecessary gang of 17.5 men. The midget is kind of killing me.