There were cushions on the floor, and a few low tables made of plywood and bricks held various liquids and snacks. A platform rather like a stage abou... a foot high and perhaps six feet square, dominated one end of the room. Seven other girls, not counting herself and Judy, she counted. About twenty guys, she estimated. The room was dimly lit by several candles, which cast grotesque shadows on the walls. Low music played from somewhere, a driving thumping beat which insisted on action, almost. “You said useless twice”“What? WHAT? You want me to put my fist up your arse are pull your teeth out?”“Not particularly. I’ve been employed by Mr. Martin and assigned to this wagon train. You don’t like it? Take it up with him.” Cavendish had found himself in the saloon the previous evening, had drunk three beers and then some more disgusting whisky. His mouth was like a dried up water hole and he wasn’t in a good mood. He didn’t feel like taking shit from this man. Normally he would have been. More

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