Elam's getting ready for the fight in a tent by himself, which is a good thing because the tattooed hooker drops by to visit him. She's breathing hard and shiny-eyed as she looks up at him. "You win this fight, they're gonna kill you," she says, "and if you lose, they'll kill you for thinking you could win." He says he has to fight, and she asks him if it's because he's half white or because he's half black. He gives her a long, considering look. He says people have been telling him his whole life who he is. "Tonight, I say who I am."

Things are getting rowdier by the minute back at the saloon. A couple of drunks spar while others cheer them on. Outside, the black workers have gathered. The Swede tells them they'll be allowed - just this one - to come inside. "But one sign of misbehavior, and I'll throw you all in chains." The men hesitate before venturing indoors. The white patrons boo their arrival. Mr. Toole is especially unwelcoming: "Bloody hell! Look at what the bowels of the place have shat out!" Looking forward to this guy getting punched in the junk one of these days. When Elam steps inside, the boos grow even louder. A white man throws a shot glass at him. The Swede doesn't "throw him in chains" but he does at least throw the guy out. Cullen enters to much cheering and applause. He peels out of his shirt and, um, holy crap. He's been hiding some serious beef under his filthy clothes. He raises a glass of whiskey to the crowd and drinks. In the opposite corner, Psalms is psyching up Elam. "You gonna win this fight for us," he says. Then it's Elam's turn to strip off his shirt and he's got even more going on than Cullen. Mickey takes a look at him and says, "Jesus, he is a big buck, Mr. Bohannon!" "It ain't all about the brawn, Mick," Cullen says. I hope for your sake it's not much about the brains.

The Swede wades into the middle of the crowd, clearing out a space for the match. "Now this is going to be a fair fight," he announces. "No grappling below the waist, no eyeball gouging, no biting, no unnecessary kicking!" But go to town with the necessary kicking, y'all. The crowd reacts with increasing disappointment as each of the rules is listed. He says the fighters will meet in the center of the ring and Mr. Dix will be the referee. He's the one usually seen in Weasel's company. The Swede makes sure the fighters are ready, then leaves them to it.