Kate couldn't have timed her remark any better. Just then, the other two come moseying on in. They're the kind of gruff that gives one the impression they've been wearing the same set of clothes eight days straight, rolling in the dirt as a way of keeping clean. She gives a nod to one, who hits the other in the shoulder and points out the table.

They walk up, just a couple of Dishonest Joes, and make themselves right at home.

"Mr. Lehane, Mr. Lowe, I'd like you t'meet Mr. Ferguson an' Mr. ... " Kate trails off.

"Adler," comes the answer in a thick German accent, along with an outstretched hand. "Like the eagle, ja?"

He grins, two of his teeth missing.

"And where're you fine gentleman from?" Ferguson asks, reaching for the whiskey.