The week passed with no breathing difficulties for Kid and they decided to follow the same routine by taking the trolley to the doctor's appointment, then walking back to Soapy's.
"Been drinking the ginger tea every morning," Kid told Dr. Ingrahm. "Can't say it's too enjoyable though."
"It's too early to tell if the tea is helping I'm afraid. But I do suggest you keep drinking it."
Dr. Ingrahm stood up and reached for his stethoscope and Kid slid off his vest. After listening carefully to both the front and the back of Kid's chest, Dr. Ingrahm gently pulled the stethoscope from his ears. "Your lungs sound very good, very healthy. I take it you don't smoke?"
"A cigar now and again, but not regularly."
"Mostly just when he's taking a bath," Heyes added and Kid sneered at him.
Dr. Ingrahm smiled as he returned to his seat and sat down. I enjoy the same pleasure myself once in a while," he said. "I did some research this week and found surprisingly that California, and in particular San Francisco itself has nearly four times as many asthma cases as Wyoming. Now that may simply be due to the population differences, but given the fact that you said you couldn't recall a single asthma attack when living in Wyoming, I found that bit of information quite interesting."
"You suggesting I move back to Wyoming?" Kid asked.
Dr. Ingrahm shook his head. "At least not at this point. Oregon has the highest incidence of asthma, but I couldn't find anything to suggest why that was."
"That seems odd," Heyes said. "Oregon's got a coastline like San Francisco."
"Colder temperatures in Oregon, but I don't know if that has any bearing on it," the doctor replied, then turned to Kid. "I know you said you had no known food allergies. There are several types of food that sometimes trigger an asthma flare up. I'm going to give you a list of those foods and I want you to not eat any of them for a week. Then next week we will start reintroducing them one at a time to see if any of them might be triggering the asthma."
"That sounds fine."
"Do you have any other questions?"
Kid looked at Heyes, then shook his head and stood to leave. He shook the doctor's hand, then headed out of the office.
"I certainly think we were directed to a good place, Kid. They seem to know what they are doing and they are not rushing you through the system," Heyes said as they walked down the street.
"Yeah," Kid replied.
"What's on the list of foods you can't eat this week?"
Kid pulled the paper from his pocket and scanned the list.
"Heyes," Kid said, stopping right there on the sidewalk. "Eggs, cow's milk, peanuts, soy, wheat, fish, shrimp, shellfish, tree nuts, apples, oranges...What's left?"
Heyes smiled. "Steak, goat's milk, ham, sausage, frog legs, roast beef. I can't think of much else."
"So basically goat's milk and meat?"
"Vegetables, " Heyes added.
"Meat and potatoes and goat's milk?"
"Well, I don't see beer on the list. Want to stop and have a beer?"
Kid's look of disbelief slowly changed to a smile. "Sure, Heyes.
"Let's hop the trolley and go down to the Barbary Coast. I'm sure Soapy would appreciate having the house back to himself for a while, and I think the saloons near there are more to out liking than one of those Gentleman's Clubs near Nob Hill."
When they reached the Barbary Coast district, they spied The Rusty Anchor Saloon and headed in and walked up to the bar to order beers.
The saloon was dark and dimly lit and quite crowded for that time of day. Picking up their beers and turning their backs to the bar, both saw that most of the patrons were sailors, likely deck hands by the looks of them. None appeared to give the two cowboys a second glance. Heyes and Curry looked at each other, then turned back to the bar simultaneously.
Both had their beer glasses to their mouths when a hand slapped Kid on the back.
"Smith," a familiar voice exclaimed while slapping his other hand on Heyes' back. "And Jones!"
Both frowned, gave each other a wary glance, set their beers on the bar and slowly turned around.
"I'm Smith, Harry," Heyes said even before actually seeing the slightly built man, dressed in his gray suite, eyes framed in his glasses, and a half spent cigar in his hand.
"Tell me, does it really matter who goes by Smith and who goes by Jones?" Harry asked.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, Harry. It does matter," Heyes replied. "Now what are you doing in a place like this?"
"I was about to ask you boys the same thing,...Bartender, bring a bottle of whiskey and two more glasses over to my table," Harry said and led the boys across the room to a table tucked back in a corner of the room.
"So what are you doing here, Harry?" Kid asked as he swung a leg over the chair and sat down.
Just as they were all seated, the bartender arrived with the bottle of whiskey. "Three dollars," he barked and Harry quickly paid him. Harry then filled the glasses and slid two across the table for the boys.
"I'm working undercover," Harry replied.
"As what, a Bannerman?" Kid asked. "If you don't mind my saying, Harry, that suite ain't much of a disguise."
"As a Boarding Master."
"A what?" Heyes asked, suddenly rather amused.
"A Boarding Master. You know, a Crimp."
"You working as one, or just posing as one?" Kid asked. "Cause that's a pretty rough business, Harry. Someone could get hurt. And by someone, I mean you."
Harry's mouth pinched up and he shook his head. "I'm not actually crimping anyone, just working the coast to ascertain names of current Boarding Masters and Crimps."
"But, Harry, somebody might decide to crimp you. I know you're a bit on the scrawny side for a sailor, but a body is a body to these men," Kid warned.
"Well that's why when I saw the likes of the two of you, well I think the two of you could make my life a lot safer, maybe even easier."
"No,! They said in unison.
"Harry we're in San Francisco on our own business, important business. We can't go getting mixed up in something like this," Heyes said sternly.
"I could make it worth your while."
"No," they said.
"Look, Smith, Jones, you'd be on official Government business. I could put in a good word for you with, well with whoever you need a good word put in to."
"Harry, you don't work for the government. Bannerman is a private business. You have no legal authority," Heyes reminded him in no uncertain terms.
"Look, I've already got names. It's just a matter of catching these men in the act. Now, being a Boarding Master is a legal job, but Crimping ain't. I've got the names of two notorious crimps. It's just a matter of catching them in the act and making a citizen's arrest. That's all."
"What are the names?" Kid asked.
"Johnny Devine, he's known as Shanghai Chicken, and the other fellow is Joseph Kelly. He's known as Bunco."
"Shanghai Chicken and Bunco?" Kid asked.
"That's right."
"And you think you're going to find them here, in this saloon?"
"Maybe."
Heyes gave Kid a look of concern. It was obvious that Harry Briscoe was once again in over his head.
"Harry, Kid and me are going to take you home for supper tonight...We might be able to help you without getting involved directly."
Harry smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. "I knew things were looking up the moment I saw the two of you."
"You got a plan?" Kid asked his partner.
"No, but I'm hoping Soapy might, or at least have the connections that we can put a plan together for Old Harry here. Come on."
They took the trolley back to the more reputable part of town and left Harry in a Gentleman's Bar on Hyde Street with specific instructions to stay put until they returned.
"Where are you going?"
"We're staying with a friend in Nob Hill. We need to change into something suitable for this establishment," Heyes explained.
"And convince our friend to get involved in your...predicament," Kid added.
"Stay here Harry. No matter how long it takes us, you stay here."
Harry nodded very seriously and walked inside the gentleman's bar while Heyes and Curry headed back to Soapy's.
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"A Bannerman? Oh boys, I'm sorry but a Bannerman, why they are no better than a banker. You simply can't trust them."
"We understand that, Soapy, but Harry Briscoe is different. We've known Harry personally for two or three years. He's helped us out a time or two and we've done the same for him. It's kind of helpful to us to have connections with him, even if he is a bit of a...bungler."
"That's putting it mildly," Kid added and Heyes shot him a look telling him he was not being helpful. Kid just shrugged.
"What kind of help do you want from me?" Soapy asked.
"Harry is trying to nab a couple of crimps. We thought you might know someone who could...tell him where to find them, maybe even help him arrest them."
"Who are the crimps?"
"A fellow names Bunco and another one named Shanghai Chicken," Kid said.
Soapy nodded. "I can't say I have ever met either one of those gentlemen, but I have come across the names before. I might be able to provide Mr. Briscoe with some assistance."
Heyes and Curry smiled. "Oh, that would be great, Soapy. I told him we'd meet him for supper at the Gentleman's Club on Hyde Street."
"Count me out on that matter. I can't afford to be seen in the company of a Bannerman."
"But it's a private club, Soapy. Harry is just in the bar waiting for us."
"The two of you go change into suitable clothes and I'll go down there with you and see that you are all admitted as my guests. But I'll not be staying for dinner."
"Thank you, Soapy."
An hour later, thanks to Soapy's generosity, Harry, Heyes, and Kid were seated at a table in the very posh Gentleman's Club, about to have a fine dinner that Soapy had been kind enough to have placed on his tab.
"The friend that got us in here for dinner, says he knows one or two men that can help you locate and arrest your two crimps," Heyes told Harry.
"Who are they?" Harry asked.
"We don't have names, yet. We might never have names, Harry, but we will have a description, and they'll have your name. As soon as arrangements are made for a meeting with them, we'll get in contact with you," Kid told him.
"Where are you staying, Harry?"
"The Waldorf on Pearl Street. Room five sixteen."
"Okay, you check at the desk every day and we'll get a message to you. But Harry, don't go back down to the Barbary Coast alone. Promise me that," Heyes said.
Harry was actually quite relieved to make such a promise. "I promise."
"Are you ready to place your orders?" the waiter asked.
Heyes and Harry ordered rather elaborate diners of surf and turf with a rice pilaf side and a shrimp cocktail and a lobster pate appetizer.
"And you, Sir?" the waiter asked Kid.
"Ah, prime rib, mashed potatoes, no butter and...goat's milk," Kid said and heard Heyes snickering