The man paced behind the girls berating and threatening as they pleaded to the passersby for their business. Baring themselves and accepting the lewd and nasty comments from drunken sailors and rowdies in town to kick up their heels.

He hit one small girl across the legs, causing her to cry out and cower from the threatening abuse. When he left, the other girls tried to comfort her at great risk to themselves. For weeks this had been their way of life. Enticing as many men to perform with them for as long as they could each day.

The man returned and found them helping the girl he had whipped and began raging at them. A moment later he dragged her off to the back of the brothel and forced her into a cage where she could barely sit.

"What now?" Another man spat some fat from a piece of meat he held in his hand.

"This one was a waste of money. Either find a buyer or put her in the room with the old ones."

"She could work I suppose."

"Not here. Get rid of her one way or another. I have to watch these others." He turned to leave and stopped at the sound of a shrill whistle.

"Vigilantes!"

******

There was a scramble of men grabbing all the women and dragging them by any means to the rear of the brothel. Some were forced into wall cavities and others under the floors where they stayed cramped and silent under penalty of death.

The doors burst open and several men stormed in, all yelling and shoving the Chinese around until they forced them to show the location of the women. The room they were shown held three older women that were sick and diseased. It was where they had been placed when they became useless to the brothel. They were provided with only a lamp. The idea being they either starved to death or when the lamp burned out they were disposed of - dead or alive.

"These yellow heathens! Get those poor women out of here, we'll move them to the clinic."

It took several men to move the frail women from the room and out to the wagon in front of the building. Their diseases manifesting physically with revolting results.

"You are closed, Chinky. And this place is being locked up tight. You better gather your belongings and find another hole to crawl into; we'll be back to turn this place to tinder."

The vigilantes waited until all the men were out, pushing and kicking them to make their point then put a chain across the door and a sturdy lock. The sign nailed to the front read, Closed/Condemned.

******

Brower drained his bottle and tossed it into the corner of the grungy room where he and his men were holed up.

"Anybody any idea who he was?"

No response. The men just frowned and stared at the floor, the table, the ceiling; anywhere but at Brower.

"Well who could he be workin' for?"

"Since he didn't shoot at Hubble that might give you a clue that he was with Trench."

The statement reeked of sarcasm and Brower leaned forward, baring his teeth.

"Listen, Stark, I didn't want you along and I don't need to listen to your smart mouth."

"Maybe if you'd listened earlier and got rid of that gun happy cracker over there, I wouldn't have lost a friend and we wouldn't be hidin' out here wonderin' what to do."

Dink jumped up, his hand on his gun butt and his face contorted in anger.

"Go for it, cracker," Stark said, his own gun already out and aimed. "You can join my friend Rolly."

"Enough! Enough alright? We don't need fightin' among ourselves to add to the problem." Brower slammed a hand on the table. "Gerrard wanted the captains warned off and Hubble alive- "

"And instead we got Hubble and a captain both dead." Stark cocked his pistol and Dink straightened up, his hand moving well away from his gun.

"Fine. Fine . . . so now what?"

"I reckon you'll have to tell Gerrard what happened. After all, this is your gang." Stark put his gun away and sat back.

Brower fumed about the tiny room, kicking feet out of the way and arguing with his men.

"We gotta do somethin', Brower." Grainger complained. "One of those shots nearly got me!"

"I know we gotta do somethin' I don't need you tellin' me - and we all heard you squeal."

"I think we should find that Trench guy and his pal and get rid of them."

"That's your solution to everything, Dink. That's why we're in this mess in the first place. You and your itchy finger."

"That actually is a sensible idea," Stark said from his spot in the corner of the room. "With them out of the way there ain't nobody left to worry about. Gerrard will have a clear field again and nobody lookin' at him."

"You just want get back for your pal Rolly." Brower snapped.

"Damn right I do! But it's still the best plan unless you wanna go back now and tell Gerrard how you left it."

Brower gritted his teeth and returned the stares with a growing frustration.

"Fine! We'll get rid of them. First we have to find them."

"Can't be too many white cowboys in this area, somebody's seen them. I say we split up and ask around . . . just ask." Stark glared at Dink purposely.

******

Link was unable to dissuade Harlan from his determination to rescue Dawn's friends regardless of his logical arguments.

"If this blows up you realize you could get everybody connected killed."

"Don't be so negative, we'll get this done and then we'll see that they are moved somewhere safe."

"You have a safe place in mind?"

"I'm gonna have a sit down with Dawn and her employer to see what we can work out. I'll think of something, quit botherin' with all these details. Focus on the task."

"Fine, I'm focused. What's your grand plan?"

"Simple, since Dawn already pointed out the house, I just go as a customer and when I get inside I get the girls."

Link groaned and covered his face. "Harlan, Harlan . . ."

"Listen, Link, I know you think I'm just some foolish idiot struck by a pretty gal and acting all hero-like. Truth is I am struck by a pretty gal, but because of the situation her friends are in . . . I'd do the same for you."

Link's head jerked up. "What! I ain't a prisoner in no brothel."

"No . . . but if you were . . ." He jumped back from the intended swat, laughing. "Kiddin' aside, partner, I'm not new to tough spots−"

"I know, I know." Link held up a hand in surrender. His shoulders slumped then squared up and he let out a long breath. "I'll be right at your back, you know that. So let's get this done."

******

Dawn sat quietly while Harlan explained to her employer what he planned to do about the girls and the decision he had come to about what to do when he had them. Dawn began to weep when he said that she should go with them. Her employer wasn't happy either but Harlan said he would reimburse the man for Dawn's purchase, insisting it would be better for everyone if they were gone from Chinatown.

"They won't know about you, Dawn but we can't take a chance that they won't remember you were bought and where you went." Harlan pointed to her employer, "He can just say you ran away if it ever comes up. What is his name anyway?"

"Ling Ying Kwong. But what will we do in this place?"

"Let's face that when we come to it. I need to get your friends first."

"Mister Kwan- or whatever- I'm gonna get a carriage big enough to transport the girls and I want to keep it in the lane behind your shop. Can you help me with that?"

Dawn translated the request so there would be no error, holding the old man's hands and nodding her assurance.

"He will help, Harlan."

"Great." Harlan nodded and smiled. "It's going to happen tomorrow night, is that okay?"

There was another rapid exchange of words and the old man turned to Harlan, his hand extended- but not for a handshake. Dawn told him how much and Harlan blew out a breath.

"Tell him I will have it all when we pick up the wagon tomorrow night. Tell him I am a man of my word; he will get his money."