Back the hotel, Trixie is paying on call on Mrs. Garret. She stomps in the room and greets Sophia, who is knitting at the foot of the bed (not the CORNER), with a pinch to the nose and a smile. Mrs. G, fretting and wringing a hankie, asks Trixie if William's condition has changed. That ain't what Trixie came to talk about, Mrs. G. Without answering, Trixie asks, "As to Ellsworth's proposal of marriage, which way to do you incline?"
Mrs. G tries to get smart: "Do you take us in from on high then, Trixie, and are you privy to all our secrets?" But Trixie has no time for that. She cuts her off, repeating the question. Mrs. Garret is alarmed at her audacity, but nonetheless chooses to answer, despite the fact that, hey, you know, this is...none of Trixie's business. Anyway, she starts out, "The prospect of Ellsworth in the role of father delights me..." Trixie interrupts. "If it's fucking him gives you pause," she says, "he'd never make you."
Mrs. Garret takes a tone. "What gives me pause, having had the experience," she says, "is the prospect of marriage without love." Again, Trixie lays down the smack. "Yeah, but when it came to cases," she says, squinting, "you took that fuckin' leap. Ellsworth waits on your answer, whatever you await before givin' it."
In Al's office, Sol is laying out the lesson. He tells Adams everything he can about Montana and the local bigwigs, Clark and Daly. As a matter of fact, after a long minute or two of being peppered with questions from Adams and Al, he reveals that he once ate with Clark in a restaurant in Helena. DING! This is the kind of info Al wanted from the beginning. "Don't tell me we might be fuckin' getting' somewhere," Al snarks, and I nod in approval, because frankly, the Montana/Dakota/Wherevah merry-go-round and accompanying lugubrious dialogue is starting to make me nauseous! Honestly.
At the Chez Amie, Doc has arrived to see what can be done with Mose. First, however, he gets a hold of Con Stapleton's manhood and jerks it around to deal with his hernia. Stapleton cries out in pain, begging someone to murder him. What sort of tornado would have to hit Deadwood to knock Con's hat off? Riddle me that. Have we ever seen him without it? Done with Con, Doc tends to Mose, who is still twitching in a big, bloody heap on the sled. Jane comes in with three pitchforks and a plan. She suggests they slide the forks under Mose to leverage him onto the sofa. "Why not just run at him from across the room," Doc says, putting on his hat to leave, "and stab him with all three pitchforks." Now that's some alternative medicine, right there.