The Deputy

Clay McCord:
I still can't see McCullough gettin' mixed up in a thing like this.

Marshal Simon Fry:
You never know what an honest citizen will do when he gets the short end of a business deal, gets hurt, feels injured and then some weasel like Frazier comes along and shows him how to get even. Sometimes even an honest citizen will buy.

Lucy Willis:
I don't think you ever find the right home; I think you make it.

Harris:
You know, Clay, I've seen men pinwheel a gun in my time and I've seen some fancy use of the border shift, too, but I ain't ever seen anybody use both tricks on the same draw.

Clay McCord:
He's a gunfighter if ever I've seen one.

Tom McCullough:
I'm not gonna get mixed up in a murder!

Andy Willis:
You're so mixed up in murder now, McCullough, if you listen real hard you can hear the noose danglin' near your neck.

Quent Hall:
He's lockin' us out!

Clay McCord:
I'm going to keep it locked until I find out for sure what's causing the fever that's puttin' people down.

Adam Crockett:
By what authority?

Clay McCord:
My badge; my gun.

Clay McCord:
Now tell the truth!

Will Culp:
The truth, my friends, is as Lowell said, forever on a scaffold.

Marshal Simon Fry:
A man don't get medals for doin' what' right. The sooner he learns that, the better off he is.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Sticking your neck out paid off this time, but don't make it a habit.

Clay McCord:
You keep pullin' my leg, you might surprised where it might kick.

[last lines]

Clay McCord:
Let's get a drink, Sarge.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Water?

[Clay and Herk are preparing to whip a criminal]

Herk Lamson:
See that anthill at your feet, Clay? Ants are sure partial to open wounds.

Clay McCord:
How many lashes do you figure he'll need?

Herk Lamson:
Well, it all depends. The last man I whipped took 80 lashes before he turned obligin'. 'Course, if Mr. Cowan is going to be stubborn, we'll just have to leave it up to the ants to change his nature.

Angela:
What are you made of? Aren't you even sorry?

Henchman Keever:
I got no time for feelin' sorry. Life's for the livin', my old lady used to say, and I got a heap of it left I want to enjoy.

Clay McCord:
Where's Doc Miller?

Marshal Simon Fry:
If it's about Fran, she's okay. Seems getting kicked in the head by a horse don't have no effect on you McCords.

Marshal Simon Fry:
How'd it happen, Ben?

Ben - Prison Warden:
Daley just got too close to him. You see, Marshal, we have a rule about a guard keeping his distance - but there's no rule about a guard being foolish enough to forget it!

Ben - Prison Warden:
You're sitting here questioning prisoners while Marlowe's out there runnin'!

Marshal Simon Fry:
We'll get him back. You see, Ben, I know the first thing Marlowe's gonna do is join up with his wife.

Ben - Prison Warden:
You any idea which way he's headed?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Yep. I sent telegrams to all the deputies in the territory just in case.

Ben - Prison Warden:
In case what?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Marlowe swore he was going to get the man who set him up, remember?

Ben - Prison Warden:
Yeah, in court right after he was sentenced.

Marshal Simon Fry:
That's why I figure Marlowe's going to make my job easy. I don't have to go lookin' for him. All I gotta do is sit still and wait for him to come lookin' for me.

Herk Lamson:
Why don't someone invent specs that can't break.

Clay McCord:
These new ones can't - unless you drop 'em.

[Peg's gunman prepares to shoot Heck in the back]

Clay McCord:
Call him off, Mrs. Marlowe.

Peg Marlowe:
He is *not* my dog.

Clay McCord:
You killed him, Ms. Marlowe. I pulled the trigger, but you killed him. I hope you're satisfied. You wanted someone to pay for Con Marlowe's death - well, somebody did. I just shot a man in the back! It don't matter that I saved a man's life because if I was playin' by the rules, that wouldn't count!

[first lines]

[scenes of Ace Gentry's gang shooting up a town and robbing a train are shown]

Marshal Simon Fry:
[narrating] That was the Arizona Territory in 1880 and I was it's chief marshal. It had been weeks since that Ace Gentry gang had held up that train before we got a line on them. Then a telegram had come to my office in Prescott - two men hauling supplies to wherever it was the gang was holed up. I could have cut them off anywhere along the line, but I chose Silver City.

Marshal Simon Fry:
You're under arrest.

Blight:
What for?

[Blight spits into the dry streambed]

Marshal Simon Fry:
You're under arrest for polutin' the stream.

Blight:
There ain't no water in there!

Marshal Simon Fry:
The law don't say anything about water.

Herk Lamson:
What excuse shall I put in the book for holding them?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Protective custody. They'll need it if Ace finds out they talked.

Clay McCord:
Ever cross your mind that if nobody carried a shooting iron, there wouldn't be no shootin'?

Customer:
Mister, I came in here for some service, not a sermon.

Clay McCord:
You say it's shooting a little high and to the left?

Customer:
Yeah, that's right.

[Clay fires six times, breaking a stick with each shot]

Clay McCord:
Well, it must be you shootin' high and a little to the left, not the Colt - it's beaded dead on. Now you take my advice and don't reload that thing. You'll be better off.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Now, Miss Fran, I ain't poison.

Fran McCord:
You are around here.

Marshal Simon Fry:
[to Clay] When a man's as good with a gun as you are, he's only got two choices in life. He either makes his living breaking the law or enforcing it.

Clay McCord:
I got no interest in the Ace Gentry gang.

[several shots ricochet nearby]

Marshal Simon Fry:
You have now.

Marshal Simon Fry:
What's all the shootin' for?

Ballard:
It makes the right impression on strangers.

Marshal Simon Fry:
I'm goin' after eight killers and all you're worried about is will you get your stinkin' groceries back?

Clay McCord:
Well, if you don't come back, Simon, I'll forget about payment. It'll be worth it.

Marshal Simon Fry:
[to Clay] You know, sometimes you're as big a liar as I am.

Marshal Simon Fry:
We've been in tighter spots.

Clay McCord:
When?

[Fry and mcCord are trapped in an abandoned mine by Ace Gentry's outlaw gang]

Marshal Simon Fry:
It's just like old times, isn't it, Clay?

Clay McCord:
Too much like old times.

[Simon shoots a mud-covered, knife-wielding combatant in the hand]

Clay McCord:
Well, you gun-crazy foo! You didn't even know which one of us you was shootin' at!

Marshal Simon Fry:
I figured a busted hand was worth more than takin' the gamble you had the knife - and I was right.

Clay McCord:
But that would have been my gun hand!

Marshal Simon Fry:
What do you care? You're all the time sayin' you aren't goin' to use it no more anyway.

Clay McCord:
Simon, it ain't just the gettin' killed I don't like - it's the killin', too. You never could understand that, could you?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Nope - not when it's killin' varmints like them.

Marshal Simon Fry:
I've got another wagonload of supplies like this impounded up in Herk's office. I'll get somebody over in Prescott to send it to you for a reward.

Clay McCord:
If you just stay in your office up in Prescott, that'll be reward enough for me.

[last lines]

Clay McCord:
Well, here's your badge, Marshal. Consider me unsworn.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Aw, why don't you keep it. You never know when you might be using it again.

Marshal Simon Fry:
[narrating] Clay kept it. We both knew he'd be using it again.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
I gotta admit trailin' a wounded man who has run out of blood is tougher than fightin' Indians.

John Gardner:
Look here, you're a public servant!

Clay McCord:
And you're a public nuisance, Mr. Gardner. At least you're a nuisance to me and you make it more public every day.

Ramon Ortega:
What's the real reason you come to Silver City?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Oh, I wanted to check up on some rumors I heard.

Ramon Ortega:
Rumors?

Marshal Simon Fry:
In writin'.

Ramon Ortega:
Now look, Marshal, no matter how bad my past record, I'm an honest man today and yet Mr. Gardner wants Clay to run me out of town.

Marshal Simon Fry:
If I know my deputy, he laughed in his face.

Ramon Ortega:
You know your deputy.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Well, he'd better stop laughin' and start to finagle something. By buyin', borrowin', beggin' or stealin', he's going to have t get enough help to stop these robberies or I'll make him wish he was back runnin' the general store again.

Ramon Ortega:
You know I've given up the use of guns.

Clay McCord:
Open your coat.

Ramon Ortega:
Hmm?

Clay McCord:
Open it.

[Ortega opens his coat and reveals two small pistols inside]

Clay McCord:
Looks like they haven't given you up.

Ramon Ortega:
Well, a man cannot walk around undressed. You know, somebody who's not peaceful may shoot holes in him.

Clay McCord:
I'm afraid that's the price you have to pay for you kind of life.

Ramon Ortega:
You cannot drive us out of business. We have broken no laws!

Clay McCord:
I've got a whole book full of ordinances. If you haven't broken any of them, I'll have the city council pass some you have broken.

Ramon Ortega:
You're lying to me, Ruby.

Ruby:
I'm not lying to you.

Ramon Ortega:
Of course you are - and not very well.

Ramon Ortega:
How many are in the bunch?

Ruby:
Six or seven. I can't remember how many Blue said.

Miller:
That's a tough job takin on six hard cases on their home ground.

Ramon Ortega:
If you would fish, you must put something very tempting on the line. I'm thinking of silver buillion - a wagonload of silver bars worth eighty thousand dollars.

Ramon Ortega:
You'll soon see who are the real bandits.

Clay McCord:
If what you say is true, Ortega, you better duck fast when they show up, 'cause they hit hard and they use lead, not words.

[while Simon and Clay were enjoying a drink in one corner of the saloon, Bill Jason shot a gambler who accused him of cheating in another]

Marshal Simon Fry:
Me and my deputy were sittin' less than 20 feet away. You coulda let the law handle it for ya.

Bill Jason:
I guess I don't always think as fast as I shoot, Marshal.

[Bill taps his holster]

Bill Jason:
The law on my hip was closer.

[Billy Jason has just shot Garth Cabot in a fair fight]

Marshal Simon Fry:
You the Billy Jason that defended himself against Ron Barkley in Mesa a couple of weeks back and against Swifty Stone last winter in Phoenix?

Bill Jason:
That's me.

Marshal Simon Fry:
There's always someone like Cabot can't stand to hear someone's better without findin' out for himself.

Clay McCord:
Did you know Garth Cabot was comin' here, Billy?

Bill Jason:
You keep forgettin' I was mindin' my own business, so now I gotta tell you to do the same.

Tom Arnold:
If your pop was here I bet he'd stand Billy to a drink.

Clay McCord:
Things are different now.

Bill Jason:
Men like Cabot ain't any different. If he was bent on makin' trouble, you couldn't talk him out of it.

Clay McCord:
I'd try.

Tom Arnold:
The way I knew Luke McCord, he might be ashamed to hear you talkin' like that.

Clay McCord:
Careful what you say, Mr. Arnold, because the way you talk, you don't sound like you knew my father at all. Figure Billy Jason for a hero if you like, but one day he's going to gun down an innocent man and when that day comes, I don't want anyone of you to say Luke McCord taught him that!

Tom Arnold:
Is it true like you say, that you only come back to Silver City because it's your hometown?

Bill Jason:
You heard me say it.

Tom Arnold:
Then you better learn to get along with Clay McCord, 'cause you can't get along against him.

[anticipating a showdown with Billy Jason, Clay practices his skill with a pistol]

Clay McCord:
That's fast enough.

Marshal Simon Fry:
When did you slink in, Simon?

Clay McCord:
A couple of draws back.

[Clay straps on his gun to fight Billy Jason]

Clay McCord:
I say it's better to prevent a crime than solve one.

[last lines]

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Phew! Ten years off of my life the thought of you havin' to fight him. I saw the whole thing from the window.

Clay McCord:
You figure my chances to be that bad, Sarge?

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
That's got nothing' to do with it, Clay. I figure that no matter where Luke McCord is, it would have been another notch on his gun and he wouldn't have been no more proud of it that you would.

Clay McCord:
You know, Sarge, you see more through that one eye than most folks do with two.

Charlie:
You're going to have to lock Sarge up, Clay.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
What are you talkin' about? It was an accident! Ask the girl - she saw the whole thing!

Charlie:
What girl?

Clay McCord:
You had no call flyin' off the handle, Mr. Harper.

Noah Harper:
The idea of his livin' a minute more than my son is more than I could bear.

Clay McCord:
How long he lives is up to the judge.

Noah Harper:
Judge Nielson is coming here next week to handle the trial. I saw to that.

Clay McCord:
You saw to that? What do you mean?

Noah Harper:
I asked for the judge with the most hangings to his credit.

Clay McCord:
Sergeant Tasker says it was an accident. Judge Nielsen might believe him.

Noah Harper:
He won't.

Clay McCord:
The courtroom ain't part of your cattle ranch, Mr. Harper.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Well, I better catch me a couple of winks, then keep on goin' until I get to Tucson.

Clay McCord:
You goin' on to Tucson?

Marshal Simon Fry:
If you ain't found out how much weight that Noah Harper can swing in this area, you're about to.

Clay McCord:
I guess I am.

Marshal Simon Fry:
We'll have to switch jurisdiction to the Army or find any other judge than Nielsen and Tucson's my only bet.

Clay McCord:
Think you got a chance?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Can't count on it. You better find that girl so Noah Harper and all his friends can have a look at her.

Clay McCord:
So far, I can't even prove she exists.

Clay McCord:
I'm disappointed in you, Ellen. I figured you to be smarter than to lie to the law.

Ellen:
Whoever's been telling you about me...

Clay McCord:
The only one's who been telling me is you. You see, I searched your room this afternoon.

Ellen:
You've got your nerve!

Clay McCord:
Lot's of nerve, but no more patience!

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Clay, findin' a girl is duck soup for Hapgood Tasker.

Clay McCord:
This is one time I sure hope you ain't just boastin'.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Wait'll I get my hands on her; ridin' off, leavin' me holdin' the bag.

Clay McCord:
Now simmer down, Sarge. We gotta handle her gentle.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
What for after what she did?

Clay McCord:
An old military man like you oughta know that you can win a battle and lose the war.

Clay McCord:
How about her?

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Could be.

Clay McCord:
Fits Ellen's description all right. Well, you hang around, Sarge. Don't come too close.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Aw, relax, Clay. I'm disguised, ain't I?

Clay McCord:
Yeah... but there are times when I like to work alone.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
If we don't find her, how are you goin' to explain me when you get back to Silver City?

Clay McCord:
I'm worried about your life, not my job.

Noah Harper:
Bringin' that girl blackened my son's character. Ain't that right?

Clay McCord:
To tell the truth, that's all.

Noah Harper:
Brett was a fine boy. He'd never go near her sort.

Clay McCord:
You've been blind a long time, Mr. Harper. Once your eyes are opened you ain't gonna like what you see.

[Simon enters the Silver City jail and finds Sarge playing checkers with Clay]

Marshal Simon Fry:
I'm not sure I'd ever find you around this place again, Sarge. You must have a bellyful of it by now.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Well, Simon, it's a lot different when you can walk out that door any time you please.

Sign on Bank:
$2500 for Dead Bank Robbers / Not a Dime for Live Ones

Clay McCord:
Would you folks do me a favor? Would you accept this?

Mr. Carter:
What's that for?

Clay McCord:
It's my share of the reward money posted by the bankers' committee.

Mr. Carter:
We couldn't do that, Clay.

Clay McCord:
I know it will never make up for your loss, but please accept it - for my sake if nothing else.

Herk Lamson:
They got a right to offer a reward, don't they?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Don't you see what's happenin'? Not only is killin' legal, it's payin' a profit, too!

Marshal Simon Fry:
I don't think the robbery was goin' to happen in the first place. The way it looks to me, there's an outfit makin' a business out of furnishin' bank robbers - dead ones! It's gettin' to be a bonanza.

Mr. Washburn:
I know all about your theory. Hogwash! We didn't take these drastic steps until we had to. If you spent your time catchin' the crooks instead of meddlin' in our affairs, maybe we wouldn't have had to pay out all that money.

Marshal Simon Fry:
You ain't stopped any robberies; you just started a rash of killin's.

Mr. Washburn:
Any man that means to rob a bank ought to be killed.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Nobody's got the right to pass a death sentence without a trial.

Sheriff of Orrsburg:
McCord, you better stick to storekeepin'. You ain't thinkin' like a lawman.

Clay McCord:
At least I'm thinkin'.

Rosy:
You got manners.

Clay McCord:
Trouble is, I'm clean out of what it takes to please a lady like you.

Rosy:
You're cute, Johnny... such a gentleman.

Clay McCord:
Well, guess that means I'd better go. It's gettin' kinda late.

Rosy:
I didn't mean *that* kind of gentleman.

Rosy:
Do you think I'm pretty?

Clay McCord:
Fishin' for a compliment, ain't ya?

Rosy:
I just want to hear you say it.

[they kiss]

Clay McCord:
Does that say it?

Rosy:
I'm not just a woman, Johnny. I want to be *your* woman

Matt Ross:
Well, we've got to forget the bank set up and get rid of him tonight.

Rosy:
You mean you're going to forget about the reward money?

Matt Ross:
I'm not walkin' into his trap; he's going to walk into mine.

Pete:
Hey, shut up, you two. The food's on the way. How do you like those two. Goin' to Prescott to stand trial for murder - sure to hang - and all they can think about is their bellies.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Maybe you better find out what's holdin' Sarge - and if she's pretty.

Doc Landy:
Look, Clay, gunshot wounds and deliverin' babies - those are my specialties, but I do know that most pox fevers start out the same way and I'd rather be careful and wrong, then wrong and sorry.

Stu Collins:
You haven't got enough guns to stop us, Fry, and you know it.

Marshal Simon Fry:
[brandishing a shotgun] This one will stop you.

[last lines]

Gail Nathan:
It's hard to find the words, Mr. Fry, but there's so much we'd like to say.

Sam Nathan:
Like every man in town, I'd like to tell you how ashamed we feel.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Ashamed? All I remember is when it counted, Silver City was there. 'Course, you might get Doc Landy a good book on fevers. It'd save a lot of wear and tear.

Clay McCord:
I don't know. Maybe Sarge has the right idea.

Marshal Simon Fry:
He might - I hope so. There's one thing you gotta learn, Clay. There's the right way to do things and there's the Army way.

Dustin Groat:
Are you as fast with your guns as they say you are?

Kemmer:
Well, those I proved it on ain't around to say.

Kemmer:
Why are you hiring me, Groat?

Dustin Groat:
To be my gun. I'm going to keep you by my side like gun in a holster. When I draw, you fire - you understand?

Dustin Groat:
You didn't get much of a bargain. You got cheated on the deal because of a bullet fired years ago in a Kansas border town.

Priscilla Groat:
I've never complained, have I?

Dustin Groat:
You want to know why Kem is here? Because the man who fired that shot is finally going to pay for it.

Priscilla Groat:
Oh, Dustin, he's beyond your reach. He's dead - you told me so yourself.

Dustin Groat:
But his son's alive - and he's here in Silver City.

Kemmer:
Evenin', McCord.

[points to the deputy's badge pinned to Clay's vest]

Kemmer:
Goin' into a new business, I see.

Deputy Clay McCord:
I'm hopin' this'll get me back to my old one.

Deputy Clay McCord:
I'm sorry, Mrs. Groat, but as far as I'm concerned, Kemmer's just a gun with your husband's finger on the trigger.

Dustin Groat:
History repeats itself, huh, McCord? The father took my legs; the son takes my wife.

Marshal Simon Fry:
You a troublemaker?

Barker:
I guess.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Been up North?

Barker:
Mighta.

Marshal Simon Fry:
You ain't sure of nothin', friend.

Herk Lamson:
Simon, you want my badge?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Unless you're going to use it for a fishhook.

Ed Madden:
That's your problem. You're scared, Marshal, and you're taking it out on the little guy!

Marshal Simon Fry:
I *am* scared.

Fran McCord:
Mr. Fry, if anything were to happen to you...

Marshal Simon Fry:
I take a lot of dyin', Miss Fran.

Finn Regan:
All right, gentlemen, this is regular five-card draw and nothin's wild except the suspense.

Barker:
I'm turning in.

Ed Madden:
What's the matter - too many police out tonight?

Barker:
My old man was one of 'em - raised us kids real strict. Never had any use for 'em since.

Clay McCord:
Where's you gun?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Remember the little old lady that was around here?

Clay McCord:
Yeah.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Well, she ain't exactly a lady. Fact is, as a gunslinger, she's pure lightning and 17 claps of thunder!

Clay McCord:
Oh, you don't mean she took your gun?

Marshal Simon Fry:
You want the truth? A woman and a gun about scare me to death.

Marshal Simon Fry:
I'm Simon Fry and you can't be the Reverend.

Joy Cartwright:
His sister - I'm Joy.

Marshal Simon Fry:
I bet you are.

Joy Cartwright:
You shouldn't talk that way.

Marshal Simon Fry:
You absolutely positive?

Joy Cartwright:
I've know curiosity to kill more than cats.

Marshal Simon Fry:
It's been known to get a man rich, too.

[Simon discovers a derringer tucked inside Joy's garter belt]

Marshal Simon Fry:
New kind of ladies' jewelry, huh?

Joy Cartwright:
Well, darlin', a girl never knows when a man might take liberties.

[Joy lays the gun on a nearby table]

Marshal Simon Fry:
Now I couldn't stopya if you wanted to take liberties - could I?

[during a gunfight, Simon suddenly groans]

Clay McCord:
You hit?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Aw, that dirty sidewinder ruined my new holster.

Clay McCord:
Is that all?

Marshal Simon Fry:
What do you want? Blood?

Joy Cartwright:
You! If I had my derringer...

Marshal Simon Fry:
If you had your derringer, Miss Joy, you wouldn't even have to shoot because women with guns scare me to death.

[referring to Blanche]

Marshal Simon Fry:
Reverend, how'd you ever get the nerve to steal that woman's cattle?

[first lines]

[Sarge is watching Clay scrub a jail cell floor]

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Ahhh, dear. You know, Clay, the trouble is you been keepin' law and order too good in this town. Now if you had some lawbreakers in here, they'd be doin' the scrubbin' instead of you.

Clay McCord:
Thanks for the sympathy, Sarge.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Well, when you get all through scrubbin' here, you can come over to my place and I'll pay you 15 cents an hour.

[Clay throws his scrub brush at Sarge]

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
All right, all right - 20 cents!

[Clay glares at Sarge who beats a hasty retreat]

[Pete McCurdy and his men have just shot up Silver City, wounding a townsman in the process]

Clay McCord:
You part of the McCurdy drive?

Pete McCurdy:
I'm Linc McCurdy's son, Pete. So you heard we was comin' through, huh?

Clay McCord:
Mm-hmm. My boss asked me to extend courtesies to ya.

Pete McCurdy:
Yeah, that's right. Nice of him.

Clay McCord:
Gents, on behalf of Silver City, I want to welcome you to our jail. Now turn around and shuck your gunbelts.

Mayor:
I hear you locked up Pete McCurdy and three of his men.

Clay McCord:
That's right, your honor.

Mayor:
Well, I'm glad you taught 'em a lesson. I'm sure they won't forget it.

Clay McCord:
There's some that need more than a lesson. They need a whole education.

Clay McCord:
Your boy has busted up the town and shot a man. I'm going to have to keep him in jail until the circuit judge rides through in a few days.

Linc McCurdy:
I don't have a few days. I've got cattle to drive through to Tucson.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
You can always hire a few men in town.

Linc McCurdy:
If I have to pay wages, *I* am the one who decides who I pay them to. Now I want my men out of jail!

Clay McCord:
We don't always get what we want.

Linc McCurdy:
Well, that's where you're wrong. We McCurdys do!

Clay McCord:
Hollerin' ain't gonna do you any good, Mr. McCurdy. You can't make your own laws.

Linc McCurdy:
Any laws the McCurdy's don't make, they bend it to fit.

[Joab has become reluctant to press charges against Pete McCurdy]

Clay McCord:
Did Linc McCurdy pay you a visit today?

Joab:
Yeah, just before sundown.

Clay McCord:
I guess he paid more than his respects.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
McCurdy's tied up with the biggest politicians in the territory.

Clay McCord:
Well, he might have put some political pressure on Simon.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
He being your commanding officer, why wouldn't he have told you?

Clay McCord:
'Cause he's the most devious, schemin', tricky-tongued, double-dealin' honest man that I know.

[Clay arrests Pete and his men again]

Mayor:
Now why don't you call this whole thing off. My pa has got the whole deck to play against you.

Clay McCord:
Ain't gonna do him any good this time, McCurdy, 'cause he don't know where the game's goin' to be played.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
All right, you can have the rations - and I hope you choke on 'em!

Clay McCord:
Talk like that ain't gonna get the Army any new recruits.

[first lines]

Agatha Stone:
Are we to be treated as only another possession by the men of this world, to be listed along with their cattle and their sheep? Oh, yes, we're good enough to bear their children, but not good enough to vote!

Agatha Stone:
Marshal, are you against our cause?

Marshal Simon Fry:
I ain't against anything that's legal, ma'am. It's a free country - you got a right to hold meetin's'; it's my job to protect your rights.

Agatha Stone:
Well, thank you, Marshal... I think.

Marshal Simon Fry:
[to Agnes] Herk Lamson ain't said a harsh word to a lady in 40 years.

[after Agnes leaves, Simon's deputy stares at him in amazement]

Marshal Simon Fry:
I was tellin' the truth, Sam. Herk ain't said a harsh word to a lady in 40 years... 'cause he wouldn't waste one word on any of 'em!

Fran McCord:
Clay, I'm chairman of the reception committee.

Clay McCord:
Ch...? Why didn't you tell me?

Fran McCord:
I didn't think you'd be interested.

Clay McCord:
You know I'm always interested in a troublemaker.

Fran McCord:
It's the men who cause the trouble, but you wouldn't admit it, you... *man*!

[the bartender gives Hodges a bottle of whiskey]

Willis:
My pleasure, Mr. Hodges - on the house.

Sam Hodges:
Nothing for me, thanks, Willis. I never touch the stuff - except for snakebite.

Willis:
You're the biggest distributor in the territory. I buy every bottle and barrel from you.

Sam Hodges:
And I control most of the dance halls and the girls who work in them... that doesn't mean I fandango.

[Agatha rents a room above the saloon]

Herk Lamson:
Marshal Fry asked me to look out for you, Miss Stone, but you sure ain't makin' it easy.

Agatha Stone:
Oh, you object to my staying here?

Herk Lamson:
Yes, ma'am.

Agatha Stone:
Well, thank you, Marshal. I appreciate your concern, but not the reason for it.

Clay McCord:
Herk, I swear she climbed on that horse nine times. Nine times!

Herk Lamson:
Bless my soul.

Clay McCord:
"If you're goin' to stay aboard," I said to her, "you gota hang on with everything you got - hands, feet, legs, knees, fingernails - everything!" After a while it was just a question of who was going to give up first - Miss Stone or the horse. She wouldn't, so the horse finally did.

Gloria Jennings:
There's a word for those who desert a sinking ship.

Agatha Stone:
Oh, Gloria, you-you musn't blame them. Besides, that ship hasn't sunk yet.

Herk Lamson:
It sure was a sight to behold, but it'll only make them women get bigger ideas. Someday we're liable to have a lady marshal.

Clay McCord:
Ah, so that's why you're on the same side as Hodges.

Herk Lamson:
Clay, don't go classifying me with that smoothy who gets rich off saloons and dance halls.

[last lines]

[Clay addresses the women's suffrage meeting]

Clay McCord:
Ladies, for the benefit of those of you who ain't heard what happened, why Miss Agatha, why Miss Agatha took sick... but that wouldn't stop her from comin' to the meetin', no sirree. And since she already prepared her speech, why, she asked me to read it for her. "We the women of America..."

[women in the suffrage meeting break into gales of laughter]

Parson Leeds:
Mrs. Gant, if you have a complaint to lodge against your neighbor...

Emma Gant:
I've lodged a complaint - before God!

Marshal Simon Fry:
Sure wish I was in church that morning when Emma Gant came stormin' in. You oughta let me know when you're going to have entertainment like that in Silver City. What did Parson Leeds do about it?

Clay McCord:
What could he do? She's bigger than he is.

[first lines]

Johnny Dean:
I'm not wearing a gun, Crawford.

Johnny Dean:
My eyes are giving me no trouble, Crawford.

Dan Crawford:
I'm glad to hear it. Nobody ever got a reputation killin' a blind man.

Johnny Dean:
Crawford, I'm tired of tellin' you I won't fight. I give you my reputation.

Dan Crawford:
You can't give it! A reputation like that's got to be earned... and I want my chance at it, same as a long time ago Billy Burress gave you yours.

Johnny Dean:
My answer to you... the same as it was in Tombstone and Fort Jefferson. Now why don't you let me be?

Dan Crawford:
Because you're Johnny Dean, the fastest gun in the whole territory... until I prove I'm faster.

Johnny Dean:
Son, I'm never going to give you that chance.

Dan Crawford:
How long can you keep runnin'?

Johnny Dean:
Till you figure that I'm not worth killin'.

[Clay straps on his gunbelt]

Marshal Simon Fry:
You won't find out anything with that except he's mighty handy in the same department.

Deputy Clay McCord:
Is there a price on his head?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Big one.

Deputy Clay McCord:
Good! It's about time I started accumulatin' some cash.

Marshal Simon Fry:
With this fellow, you won't get any cash - only fame.

Deputy Clay McCord:
What do you mean?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Name's Johnny Dean. The price on his head could be death.

Johnny Dean:
Simon Fry? Is he in town?

Deputy Clay McCord:
Rode in a while ago. I told him your name was Enright, but he said the description fit a gunfighter named Johnny Dean.

Johnny Dean:
No it doesn't, Deputy. I used to be a gunslinger.

Deputy Clay McCord:
What happened? Eyes go bad? Hands start to shake?

Johnny Dean:
Let's just call it a loss of appetite.

Deputy Clay McCord:
How come you keep runnin'?

Johnny Dean:
How many men have you killed?

Deputy Clay McCord:
More than I like to remember.

Johnny Dean:
Sooner or later you can forget... maybe they deserved killin'; maybe it's part of your job. What excuse can I use?

Deputy Clay McCord:
Now you're runnin' from yourself.

Johnny Dean:
Unh-uh. Johnny Dean - there's a difference.

Deputy Clay McCord:
You plannin' to settle in Silver City?

Johnny Dean:
Well, I'd like to.

Deputy Clay McCord:
It's a peaceful town, Johnny.

Johnny Dean:
Deputy, Roger Enright is a peaceful man.

Burt Johnson:
Where you goin'?

Dan Crawford:
To find him.

Burt Johnson:
He's mine, Crawford! I owe him for somethin' that happened yesterday.

Dan Crawford:
Fly your kite someplace else, Junior.

Burt Johnson:
This is my hometown, Crawford!

Dan Crawford:
Then show a little hospitality.

Dan Crawford:
Now, ma'am, I ain't much of anything yet and I want to be as famous as Johnny Dean, the same as Johnson, but his way of goin' about it doesn't suit my taste at all.

Dan Crawford:
You ride out in the mornin', Johnson, and don't come back until you hear that Johnny Dean is dead... or that I am.

Deputy Clay McCord:
Don't blame yourself for every bullet that's fired, Johnny.

Johnny Dean:
No, but everyone else will blame me.

Johnny Dean:
What do you expect to get by out drawin' him?

Dan Crawford:
A chance at Johnny Dean.

Johnny Dean:
So you kill Johnny Dean - what do you win? A label! And that label will be a target for every young punk comin' up, hoping to get a reputation for killin' you.

Burt Johnson:
You talk to much.

Dan Crawford:
That's a fact.

Deputy Clay McCord:
No, they'll kepp lookin' for trouble and findin' it, but Johnny wanted to keep his reputation from livin' on. I don't want him to have died a failure.

[Fry's posse discovers Indians attacking a wagon train]

Marshal Simon Fry:
All right, men, let's join the party.

Dr. Landry:
Would you mind telling me where we're going?

Morgan Burch:
You leave that to me; I'll leave the doctorin' to you.

Clay McCord:
Well, Doc?

Dr. Landry:
Well, he's got a chance.

Clay McCord:
So have we if we get out of here as soon as it's dark enough.

Dr. Landry:
I can't leave him, Clay.

Clay McCord:
Doc, you gotta!

Dr. Landry:
Kill him.

Clay McCord:
Do what?

Dr. Landry:
Put your gun to his head and pull the trigger. Go ahead!... I didn't think you could, but if we're going to leave him like this, it would be merciful if you did.

Clay McCord:
Well, if there's nothing you can do...

Dr. Landry:
Wait a minute - there's never nothing! Not until death.

Dr. Landry:
You spend your life using instruments to save lives, then you can learn something to destroy it in just a few minutes.

Clay McCord:
Let's make it as expensive as possible for 'em, Doc.

[last lines]

Clay McCord:
You know, Doc, it bothers me giving my blood to Jack Burch and having it all go to waste.

[a man Clay arrested for murder is released when the real killer provides a death bed confession]

Clay McCord:
Lucky thing Albee got life instead of the noose - lucky for me, I mean.

Clay McCord:
Every time I arrest somebody, I'm goin' to say to myself, "Am I makin' another mistake?"

Marshal Simon Fry:
That's goin' to be a problem, Clay, I'll grant ya, but there's problems in every job. You face 'em; you fight 'em. You went to a lot of trouble to prove that Albee done the killin'. Maybe next time, you're gonna have to take more time, more trouble.

[Sarge give Clay a copy of Albee's trial records]

Clay McCord:
Well, I know all this. How come you want me to read it through?

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Find anything in there to make you doubt Albee Beckett was the killer?

Clay McCord:
No.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Good! Then the two days it took me to ride to Hondo, go to the courthouse and bring that back here wasn't wasted.

Clay McCord:
I'm afraid it is, considerin' Rufus Hayden's confession.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Who said Hayden wasn't lyin'?

Clay McCord:
On his deathbed, Sarge? He'd have to have an awful powerful reason for that.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Clay, if you started actin' like a lawman instead of a wounded buffalo, why you might find a reason.

Clay McCord:
Now I know what a military secret is.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
What?

Clay McCord:
It's something a military man keeps to himself until it's almost too late to do anybody any good.

[When Albee turns on his partner, Sarge knocks him out the butt of his pistol]

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Eh, he'll sleep better, Clay.

Clay McCord:
So will I, Sarge, so will I.

[Clay whirls towards the sound of a horseman rapidly approaching]

Marshal Simon Fry:
Whoa, Clay! It's against the law for deputies to take potshots at chief marshals.

[last lines]

Marshal Simon Fry:
I'll take the first watch. You ought to sleep real good knowin' you have a clear conscience in ya.

Clay McCord:
You're the boss, Marshal.

Marshal Simon Fry:
[narrating] The Arizona territory around 1880 had two kinds of law - one for the honest, God-fearing folk; the other for those who believed in kill or be killed. Nothin' that a lawman, not even a chief marshal, could do about the second kind until they struck.

Marshal Simon Fry:
She doesn't want your favors, friend.

Jim Stanton:
Ohhh. You're tough, real tough, behind a little piece of tin.

[Fry removes his badge and hands it to the bartender]

Marshal Simon Fry:
Shine it up, Joe, so it'll impress my friend.

Chesley 'Ches' Vantage:
You're looking fine... a little pale, maybe.

Brad Vantage:
That's because I've been indoors lately.

Chesley 'Ches' Vantage:
Studyin'?

Brad Vantage:
Yeah... studyin'.

[Zack is carving a large tombstone]

Jason Getty:
How much for a stone like that?

Zack Martinson:
Do you want it plain or fancy?

Jason Getty:
I just want it fast.

[Zack and Jason are discussing the lettering on a Jason's tombstone]

Zack Martinson:
You got some quotation in mind?

Jason Getty:
Just the dates - Born June 23, 1840, Died...

Zack Martinson:
Let's hope it's a long time before that date gets carved.

Jason Getty:
It will be in the next 48 hours.

[Bill prevents a gunfight between Belding and Jason Getty]

Bill Corman:
Thanks, Bill.

Bill Corman:
It was nothin'. Maybe I shouldn't be proud of it, but Getty's always been friendly disposed towards me.

Clay McCord:
That makes you a suspicious character, don't it?

[Jason is determined to find the man who gave him a deadly poison]

Clay McCord:
If you expect to test everyone who hates you, Mr. Getty, you'll have to cover an awful lot of territory.

Jason Getty:
I'm going to cover every inch of it, Deputy - every inch of it! I'm going to get even before I die.

Clay McCord:
You get out of line, I'll lock you up.

Jason Getty:
[laughs] What'll you have it your jail? A corpse?

Clay McCord:
Don't make me wish that poison will work any faster than Doc Landy says it will.

Jason Getty:
There's gonna be a lot of people who wish that before I'm through.

[Bill owes the success of his freight line to Jason's patronage]

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
I guess you're about the only person who wishes he'd stay alive, Bill.

Bill Corman:
A rare distinction, isn't it?

Marshal Simon Fry:
The poisoner's got to be found before Getty finds him.

Clay McCord:
The trouble is Getty's made up his own list of suspects. He's liable to gun 'em all down tryin' to be sure he gets the guilty one.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Lucky this thing happened.

Clay McCord:
Why do you say that?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Aw, problems got any easier instead of tougher, you might get bored with your job.

Clay McCord:
Sometimes it's merciful to lie to a patient, ain't it, Doc?

Bill Corman:
For mercy, there's a reason.

Clay McCord:
Well, so is justice!

[Jason has been shot in the stomach after being poisoned]

Clay McCord:
Is he going to live, Doc?

Doc Landy:
That's a funny question about a man who - for all practical purposes, has been dead for some time.

[last lines]

Clay McCord:
I used to think Getty went out of his way to make people hate him... now I know why. He hated himself for what he had done to that girl. Couldn't stand for people to think he was decent when, in his heart, he felt that he wasn't.

Marshal Simon Fry:
That's deep, Clay. It's gettin' so you're lookin' way inside for causes.

[Ma Mack rescues Clay from a beating by three thugs]

Ma Mack:
Back off you miserable hound or I'll put some leaks in ya!

Reece:
It's a good thing for you I'm a gentleman. I ain't gonna take on no lady.

Ma Mack:
Last time I got called that, I ran the hypocrite out of the state of Arkansas. Now git!

Marshal Simon Fry:
Tell you what, Sheriff. You take these boots back to him. Tell him they don't fit. Tell him they swole my feet, that's why I didn't come with ya. Tell him to stop selling boots like this unless he wants his customers to die with their boots on.

Clay McCord:
I'm sorry, Reece. I guess wearin' this badge don't make a man as smart as he'd like to think.

[Clay argues that an unarmed peace commission would have a better chance of success than a regiment of soldiers storming the Apache camp]

Marshal Simon Fry:
You don't walk into a place like that unarmed, Clay.

Clay McCord:
Why not? Chief Mangus speaks English. It might be interesting to find out what a man can do up there unarmed.

Marshal Simon Fry:
It might be fatal, too.

[after a long fight, Clay captures or kills the entire family of scalpers]

Clay McCord:
Where did you come?

Chiva:
I watch whole time.

Clay McCord:
You certainly where a big help.

Chiva:
Such great man of peace no need help.

[last lines]

Clay McCord:
I knew there was something fishy about his story, but then, that's Clay McCord. He'll fight harder to keep the peace then most folks would fight to win a war - and then hide the fact that he got into a fight over it. Any wonder why I want him to keep his deputy badge whether he uses it or not?

[Ralph has escaped from prison so he can see his father one last time before the old man dies]

Clay McCord:
I'm going to take you in, Ralph.

Ralph Jenson:
What do you mean?

Clay McCord:
Lock you up. You haven't forgot I'm a deputy, have ya?

Ralph Jenson:
Look, Clay, I'm going back to Tannersville as soon as I've seen my father. I swear I am!

Clay McCord:
Unless I take you into my custody, you're likely to be going back dead. That bounty hunter's inside.

[Simon discovers Clay chained to a post with a dead bounty hunter lying at his feet]

Clay McCord:
Funny, just a few minutes ago, he was remakrkin' how many men had died for obstructin' justice.

Marshal Simon Fry:
You don't look like the prettiest picture of justice I've ever seen, but you sure look like the most obstructed.

[last lines]

[Ralph honored the terms of his unofficial "parole" from prison]

Marshal Simon Fry:
On the way home, Clay asked if Ralph would ever come out a free man. Of course, nobody could ever answer that for sure, but it appeared to me that Ralph Jenson was a free man or he couldn't have walked back in just because he said he would.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Now, Deputy, you mean you're not going to let me teach these card sharps a lesson?

Clay McCord:
That don't happen to be your job.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
No, but it's sure my pleasure!

[Clay and Sergeant Tasker are brawling in the street]

Emily Price:
The army's declared war on the law!

Charlie:
Good deal or bad, couldn't you find anyone but a lawman to handle him? It ain't healthy to have one so close.

Gus:
The way Emily was watchin' that deputy fight, maybe she feels like that *was* a healthy lawman.

Emily Price:
They're both healthy enough, but I've yet to see a man come between me and two thousand dollars.

Clay McCord:
[to Sgt. Tasker] The next time I see you, I want it to be pleasure instead of business.

Clay McCord:
We're going to do it the way I always do it.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
How's that?

Clay McCord:
Careful.

Bartender:
Got a thirst, Clay?

Clay McCord:
Just for conversation.

Lucille Reding:
He throws a pretty tall shadow, doesn't he?

George Reed:
Not so tall that I can't put some daylight through it.

Clay McCord:
What reward?

Marshal Simon Fry:
The two hundred dollars they're offerin' for this hombre.

[Simon hands Clay a wanted poster]

Clay McCord:
The Cherokee Kid? Don't be funny, Simon. He's still got eight years to serve in the territorial prison.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Night before last he figured he'd done enough time - killed a guard and broke out.

[last lines]

Marshal Simon Fry:
Maybe Clay McCord will go back to storekeepin' someday, and I'll lose the best deputy a Chief Marshal ever had. Until he does, a lot of needy people are going to wind up with the reward money he earns and a lot fo outlaws are going to wind up in jail because he earned it.

Lucy Ballance:
Clay, have you been followin' us?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Just as fast as I could, Miss Ballance.

Lucy Ballance:
Things haven't been the same since Simon Fry stepped on board.

Clay McCord:
He's my boss not my guardian.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Passenger list didn't tell much.

Clay McCord:
Well, I guess a man doesn't get in the habit of writing 'Gunman' after his name.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Thought maybe you'd like to join me for breakfast.

Lucy Ballance:
Are you sure you can spare the time from your official duties?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Oh, I'll be workin', but there's no point in not enjoyin' the job a little.

Lucy Ballance:
I am surprised, Marshal.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Kinda surprised myself. I ain't gonna say I'm glad Clay was hurt, but it's an ill wind that don't blow somebody some good.

Marshal Simon Fry:
She looks right through a man, Clay.

Clay McCord:
All day long?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Well, don't get the wrong idea. As long as I'm standing guard over her, I might as well make it sociable.

Clay McCord:
Oh, I just hope you're not gettin' in deep water, Simon.

Marshal Simon Fry:
You worried I don't know how to swim?

Marshal Simon Fry:
I didn't figure on you for a man to do his own dirty work.

Samuel Forceman:
It is contrary to family tradition.

Samuel Forceman:
We were a plantation family - owned 200 slaves before the war. Now I can't afford more than 30 hired hands.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Plus half a dozen hired killers. Must be runnin' out of 'em about now. That it?

Samuel Forceman:
You have quite a talent for appraisin' the situation, Mr. Fry.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Got a late start this time. Looks like it might be fatal.

[last lines]

Marshal Simon Fry:
[discussing Lucy] Faxcinatin' girl. Like's to play as long as she can keep out of trouble... which I guess ain't a bad idea. But like you said, it took a lot of work to get her on that stand.

Clay McCord:
Oh, I can't see as how you suffered so much from all that hard labor.

Marshal Simon Fry:
No, can't say as I did. Bein' a marshal, you gotta learn to take things as they come.

Marshal Simon Fry:
About your prisoner: I guess the thing a lawman has to keep reminding himself is he ain't a judge - just a lawman.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Clay, I'd like to agree with you, but it would only make you change your mind again.

[Herb threatens to kill a member of Calico Bill's gang unless he drops his gun]

Herb Caldwell:
I'll count to three, Bill.

Calico Bill:
Bein' a banker, you can count to a hundred!

[last lines]

Clay McCord:
Herb shot Calico Bill, his own brother, when we were movin' in on 'em.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Well, that's why I guess I picked you for the job, Clay. You're onery and stubborn, but you do your own thinkin'... Well, don't get all misty eyed about it. Go out and see if there's any law-breakin' goin' on. I've got to catch up on my sleep.

[Herk puts on his glasses as his small posse prepares to ambush a large band of Apaches]

Herk Lamson:
Hold it!

Young Deputy:
I thought those glasses were for readin', Marshal.

Herk Lamson:
Arithmetic, too - count 'em!

Marshal Simon Fry:
Charley, we don't need no telegraph between here and Silver City - all we gotta do is let you open your mouth!

Marshal Simon Fry:
When a man goes against his own kind, Charley, you got more trouble than you can bury in one grave.

Herk Lamson:
Fran, why is a young and pretty girl like you working so late?

Fran McCord:
Just putting some merchandise out for tomorrow's rush and I've got just the thing for you - new from the East. They go around your shoes... they're call "spits".

Clay McCord:
Spats! They're kind of a vest for your boots. You might be interested, Herk. Keeps your foot clean in case you're going to put your foot in your mouth.

Marshal Simon Fry:
[narratin] "Get rich quick" was the big dream of the Arizona Territory about 1880 and me being chief marshal, I was always the first one to get the bad news when anybody chased that dream too hard and crossed the line that separates "law" from "outlaw".

Clay McCord:
Come in again, Mr. Carey, if there's anything you want while you're in town.

Joseph Carey:
Well, there's plenty I want - payin' for it's always been my trouble.

Clay McCord:
Herk, you're goin' to nab those Montezuma highbinders all by yourself.

Herk Lamson:
I have to find them first.

Clay McCord:
You got Cowper nailed to your barn door, Herk.

Herk Lamson:
Yeah, like nailing up a weather vane - useful to find out which way the wind is blowing, but nothing to hold on to in a storm.

Clay McCord:
I've been thinking... Miz Hart's gonna need someone to run the ranch for her. Why don't you stay and help out?

Joey Hart:
Please, Joseph! It'll be just like having a real grandpa!

Joseph Carey:
You know something, Joey? I might work out to be just that.

Rickert:
Why should I pay you twenty dollars a week? If I need protection the law will give it to me! Put that down before you break it.

Fletcher:
It's too bad. You know a coupla drunken cowboys getting into a fight could cause a lot of damage.

Rickert:
Is that a threat?

Fletcher:
Oh, no! I was only saying what *could* happen.

[Fletcher smashes a jar of syrup against the wall]

Fletcher:
Oh - I am sorry.

Marshal Simon Fry:
I'd better look up Clay.

Herk Lamson:
Simon, you plannin' on deputizin' Clay? He ain't gonna buy it.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Store business good, huh?

Herk Lamson:
It's just they haven't forgivin' you for the last time you pinned the badge on him. The way he's thinkin'...

Marshal Simon Fry:
A young fellow like Clay need a man has growed up and has some experience to sort of guide his thinking.

Clay McCord:
No, no, no. I'll say it Spanish - "No." I'll whistle it if I have to.

Fran McCord:
Mr. Fry gone already?

Clay McCord:
He's gone.

Fran McCord:
He'll be back.

Clay McCord:
No he won't, Sis. He knows I refuse to be tricked.

Fran McCord:
He's probably hooked you again and you don't even know it.

Fran McCord:
That Mr. Rickert. I'm goin' to punch him in the nose!

Clay McCord:
Whoa, now. Just because he's our competitor...

Fran McCord:
Well, I am!

Clay McCord:
Now, Sis, I'll let you boss me in almost anything, but when it comes to nose-punchin', I'll do it.

Herk Lamson:
You better start packin' again.

Clay McCord:
Why? 'Cause of Fletcher?

Herk Lamson:
No, that other fella. I saw the way he looked at you when you moved in on the lady. There was murder in those eyes - yours!

Beatrice Vale:
That just leaves Mr. McCord's store, doesn't it.

Briscoe:
We agreed to keep hands off on that one. He's a lawman.

Briscoe:
Accent on the *man*.

Briscoe:
And remember you couldn't have done this without me.

Beatrice Vale:
I know it darling.

[Bea kisses Briscoe]

Beatrice Vale:
And I'm very grateful.

Briscoe:
I might start believing that - and that could be fatal.

Beatrice Vale:
But that's not very nice.

Briscoe:
We're not very nice people.

Herk Lamson:
How's Fran takin' it?

Clay McCord:
Oh, she claims she likes it over the hotel, social and all, but I'll be glad when it's all over and I can ease her mind.

Herk Lamson:
About not selling the store?

Clay McCord:
No, about me courtin' Miss Vale! She's buildin' up a real thunderhead. Just between you and me, I don't want to be around when the storm breaks.

[Fran jumps to Clay's aid when Bea draws a derringer and points it at him during a fight]

Clay McCord:
Hey hey hey hey hey! It's finished!

Fran McCord:
You mean I can't finish my fight?

Clay McCord:
It's finished, it's finished. We'll be back tendin' store tomorrow, Sis.

[referring to Marshal Fry]

Clay McCord:
How does he always get the best of me?

Fran McCord:
He cheats.

Clay McCord:
Goodbye, Herk.

Clay McCord:
Goodbye and consider yourself unswore.

[Clay leaves Herk's office]

Clay McCord:
...Until the next time.

[first lines]

Marshal Simon Fry:
For three weeks I'd been riding hard on a trail of hold-ups and murders. The next few minutes would bring me to the end of it and face-to-face with one of the most vicious outlaws the territory had ever known.

Marshal Simon Fry:
You're under arrest, Sally.

Sally Tornado:
Where are you going to take me?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Prescott to stand trial.

Sally Tornado:
I'll get a dress on. A gentleman would turn his back.

Marshal Simon Fry:
I'd rather stay alive than be a gentleman.

[Simon grabs Sally's derringer before she can pull the trigger]

Marshal Simon Fry:
No wonder they named you "Sally Tornando".

Clay McCord:
I was raised in an orphanage along with a lot of other kids without a name. Sally Tornado - you know how I got that name? By fightin'! I was a scrawny little kid, so I didn't get enough to eat until I was twelve. I used to fight everything and everybody. It took me a long time to figure how to get things in this world.

Sally Tornado:
By stealin' and killin'?

Clay McCord:
That's better than askin' for it and havin' people say "No".

Sally Tornado:
You can't trust nobody in this world... sometimes not even yourself.

[last lines]

Clay McCord:
Hope you ain't too disappointed about her missin' the hangin'.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Can't say I am.

Clay McCord:
'Cause if you wanted her to be there for sure you could have taken her yourself.

Marshal Simon Fry:
I had to go to Tucson.

Clay McCord:
Yeah.

Marshal Simon Fry:
I didn't want to see her hang any more than you did, Clay. I went to Tucson to plead with the Territorial Commissioner. I asked him to spare her life.

Clay McCord:
What'd he say?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Commutation was granted. Sentence was changed to life imprisonment. So, you see, she wouldn't have hanged anyway.

Clay McCord:
Still, it's better this way, Simon. Sally Tornado locked up in prison for the rest of her life... she'd have died more than once. It's better this way - a lot better.

Clay McCord:
Tell me, what is the cousin of the czar doing in the Arizona Territory?

Dimitri:
Trying to earn a living.

[to Dimitri who claims to be a Russian duke]

Clay McCord:
I've got a title myself - Clay McCord, Deputy Marshal of Silver City

Dimitri:
Believe me, in this part of the world a far more impressive title than mine. I'm honored.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Well, there's all sorts of aches and pains, Clay. The one that seems to bother people the most is when it hits them in the pocketbook. That's a real tender spot.

Clay McCord:
People lose respect for the law when they don't respect the lawman.

Drifter:
Seems like every time we go through a town that mob gets bigger. Don't tell me they're interested in seeing justice done, Marshal.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Any lawman knows that lynchin' is bloodlust - ain't nothin' to do with justice.

Second Outrider:
We ain't licked yet, Fry.

First Outrider:
You'll meet up with us again before you get him to Prescott.

Marshal Simon Fry:
You better make it at extra long range, 'cause Mr. McCord's goin' to be keeping me company.

Clay McCord:
Never discuss women in front of women, Herk.

Mayor:
Clay, I want you deputized.

Clay McCord:
Pinnin' on a badge ain't a license to kill, Mr. Mayor, just means the man wearin' it intends to uphold the law.

Clay McCord:
A couple of real anxious citizens.

Herk Lamson:
Why not? Death is kind of scary, even if it is walkin' around on two legs and wearin' a fast gun.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Kinda risky pussyfootin' around at night.

Clay McCord:
I wasn't pussyfootin'.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Your horse was.

Clay McCord:
...I'll have a talk with him.

Herk Lamson:
I'm ashamed of you, Parnell. Bushwhacking ain't exactly in your line.

Clay McCord:
Maybe it was and nobody noticed.

Clay McCord:
Where is Clemson?

Herk Lamson:
Hanging around outside the mayor's office.

Clay McCord:
Just keeps pushin', don't he?

Herk Lamson:
That's the old way, Clay. Fancy gun boys always did it that way. Push a man, jangle his nerves, make him reach - then drop him before he can clear leather.

[Simon has been angrily yelling at Laura, a deaf woman]

Laura:
Don't shout.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Who says I'm shouting!

Laura:
Your neck cords gave you away.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
[about Laura] She's sure a tough female to figure.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Well, it makes me feel a lot better seein' the expert's havin' trouble, too.

Marshal Simon Fry:
You keep your eye open on any strangers comin' into town.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Somebody better keep an eye on her.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Leave her to me.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Simon... swap chores with you?

Marshal Simon Fry:
You gotta misplaced funny bone, Sarge. It's in your head.

Clay McCord:
How come you're so all fired set on goin' with Laura, Sarge?

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
How come? Why imagine ridin' all the way to Boston with a woman who'd let me do all the talkin'!

Marshal Simon Fry:
Somethin' tells me if you were to go, she'd just close her eyes and turn you off.

[Simon's posse killed the son of an old friend]

Marshal Simon Fry:
It takes years to raise 'em, ten minutes to arrange for their burial.

[Clay's posse surrounds the Meadows' gang who are holding Simon and the Bakers hostage]

Clay McCord:
We'll just wait and hope.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
It sure ain't gonna be easy, sittin' here waitin'.

Clay McCord:
Maybe you'd rather be inside waitin'.

Clay McCord:
Well, I'm glad to see I got here in time.

Marshal Simon Fry:
I'd like to sweat off ten pounds waitin' for ya.

Clay McCord:
Looks good on ya. You was beginnin' to plump up a bit from all that easy livin'.

Marshal Simon Fry:
I'm a man with problems, Clay. The Territorial Commissioner's assistant is coming over here now with more complaints about how I'm running this office. As a matter of fact, you might be able to help me.

Clay McCord:
You start that deputy talk, Simon, and this friendly visit's going to end up real frosty.

[Simon sticks another colored pin into his map of Arizona]

Marshal Simon Fry:
It's getting closer to home, Clay.

Jordan:
Just what is all that, Mr. Fry.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Everyone of them beads is a different job done by the same gang - red's for trains, white's for banks, green is for stages. I've been checkin' them out. Seems like the big operators like Ringo, Brocius and Billy the Kid haven't been seen in the usual places lately.

Jordan:
What does that mean?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Well, it don't mean they're dead or we'd have heard and knowin' them varmints like I do, I'm not about to hope they retired from law-breakin'... so I'm about to come to the conclusion that they're all in this together.

Herk Lamson:
What happened to your hands?

Clay McCord:
Burned - that bunch down there meant to barbeque me all over.

Herk Lamson:
They oughta know better to play with fire.

Clay McCord:
It was them that did the playin'.

Clay McCord:
Construction gang a coupla miles back - borrowed this from 'em... Dynamite!

Herk Lamson:
Aw, them new-fangled things. They make me nervous.

Clay McCord:
Wait'll you see what it makes them.

[Clay lights the fuse on the dynamite and watches it burn]

Clay McCord:
What are you waitin' for?

Clay McCord:
If this lands and don't go right off, there's one of them outlaws that's crazy enough to pick it up and throw it back here.

Herk Lamson:
Looks like to me the crazy ones aren't on their side!

[referring to his prisoner, Bart Wilson]

Marshal Simon Fry:
Haven't you ever heard the sayin' "Two's company, three's a crowd"? When I get his kind of company, I want a crowd.

Clay McCord:
Miss, I've got to find Evan Sloate and I've got to find him fast. It's worth ten dollars in gold if you lead me to him.

Lorrie:
What do you want with him?

Clay McCord:
There was a Mexican girl...

Lorrie:
Yours?

Clay McCord:
Well, let's just say I never figured she'd run away with another man.

Lorrie:
You get the Mexican away from Sloate, that'll be thanks enough. One more thing - don't spread it around you're looking for Sloate.

Clay McCord:
Why not?

Lorrie:
Your face looks pretty good the way it is.

Lorrie:
Listen to me and listen good. Nothin' you do is going to get that girl away from Evan any more then what I do is going to bring Eben back to me. There ain't going to be a blessed thing that's gonna change the words they said or the paper it's writ on.

Clay McCord:
Paper? What paper?

Lorrie:
The one that says, "Till death do us part."

Evan Sloat:
Well, if you think prison was rough, Mister, you're gonna find it a lot easier walkin' in here gettin' hired then walkin' out. All you're gonna need is a pick and a shovel. I'll take your gun.

Evan Sloat:
She's my wife until death do us part. Ain't that right, woman?

Clay McCord:
Well, go ahead and shoot. What are you waitin' for?

Evan Sloat:
Oh, don't rush me, McCord. I'm gonna let you have all six slugs... one at at a time, each one in a different part of you. Let the life run out of ya nice and slow.

Clay McCord:
I'm sorry it was you who had to do the killin'.

Evan Sloat:
[to Clay McCord] I'd kill you but that'd be too easy.

Stagecoach Driver:
You're lucky, Mr. Hooper. He stole your money along with the bank shipment, but he left you your life.

Mr. Hooper:
Maybe I'm lucky, but he stole my boy's eyesight.

Clay McCord:
Simon, I'd ask the Commissioner for a stay of execution. As long as Schofield's alive, you might be able to worm it out of him.

Marshal Simon Fry:
If he stays alive, he'll have the best reason in the world to keep his mouth shut! I'm sorry, Clay, the court's sentence has got to be carried out.

Clay McCord:
Did the court intend to sentence Ricky Harper to a life of blindness?

Claudia:
You killed him!

Clay McCord:
I hope not. I got to get him back to Bisbee for his hangin'.

[Clay objects when Sarge proposes to fight a professional to earn money his friend needs desperately]

Clay McCord:
Goin' six rounds with a professional and ain't like a saloon free-for-all. Titan's in trainin' all the time. He'd scramble your brain.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
The man ain't been born that could do that.

Clay McCord:
Why? Ain't you got any?

[Clay is trying to train Sarge for his upcoming boxing match]

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Come on, Clay, let's rest a little bit, huh.

Clay McCord:
Rest? You ain't run ten miles yet, Sarge.

Clay McCord:
Well, I'm fightin' the champ - I ain't runnin' against him!

[after knocking out Clay, Sarge takes his place in the big boxing match against Titan]

Dillon:
What are you doin' here, Helpless?

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
The name's Hapgood Tasker and you forget it once more and you'll get a receipt for what I'm going to dish out to your champ!

Aces Thompson:
Sometimes you seem to forget I'm your father.

Julie:
Not again...

Aces Thompson:
And your mother... ever since the day she walked out on us.

Julie:
Forget I'm your daughter! You forgot it long ago, anyway. I'm your partner and I'll say what I please when I please.

Julie:
You're afraid of him, Aces! It's the first time I've seen you afraid of any man.

Aces Thompson:
I would rather not have to tangle with him.

Julie:
Don't. Maybe Simon Fry can handle a gun, but I can handle a man.

Clay McCord:
Miss Desmond, may I talk to you a minute?

Julie:
What are you, the postscript? You tell Marshal Fry his message was quite clear!

Marshal Simon Fry:
Let her go, Thompson. You've twisted her life enough.

Aces Thompson:
She's my daughter, not yours!

Marshal Simon Fry:
Your meal ticket, you mean.

Aces Thompson:
You're running out on me and I'm not buying it.

Julie:
Why not? You ran out on my mother.

Aces Thompson:
You mean to say that you believe that stuff Simon Fry was spouting?

Julie:
I guess I'm not as grown up as I seem. I believe anything I'm told - look how long I believed you.

Aces Thompson:
If you say so, I guess I got to accept it. After all, you're the chief marshal.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Naw, you're wrong there, Thompson. I *was* the chief marshal. Notice I ain' wearin' the badge. Now I'm a private citizen same as you with the same rights and priviledges... which includes killin' a rattlesnake that gets set to strike.

[last lines]

Marshal Simon Fry:
Sure does remind me of the way her mother was.

Clay McCord:
You're bankin' an awful lot on her goin' straight. Do you really think she'll make it?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Depends.

Clay McCord:
On what?

Marshal Simon Fry:
On whether she's really as much like her mother as she looks. Hasta luego.

Clay McCord:
You wouldn't dare touch her!

Jack Usher:
Don't be foolish; we already have. I think you recognize this.

[Usher hands Fran's locket to Clay]

Clay McCord:
How do I know I can trust ya?

Jack Usher:
...You don't, brother.

[a savage cough convulses Usher]

Quincannon:
Lungs.

Jack Usher:
That's what brought me to this miserable country, but I'm makin' it pay - and it's gonna pay me a lot more!

[Clay tries to lure Simon to the fictious hideout of a outlaw gang, but forgets to bring his holster]

Marshal Simon Fry:
Them outlaws is gonna have guns. What are you gonna use - rocks?

Clay McCord:
I hope those outlaws are still in Salt Canyon.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Not very likely since they never camped there.

Clay McCord:
What do ya mean? Injun Charley...

Marshal Simon Fry:
Injun Charley never saw anybody in Salt Canyon and didn't tell you that he did.

Clay McCord:
Oh no, Simon...

Marshal Simon Fry:
When were you plannin' on slippin' away? As soon as I was asleep?

Clay McCord:
What did I do wrong?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Everything! You ain't much of a crook and your face wiggles when you lie.

[discussing Quincannon, one of Usher's gang members]

Marshal Simon Fry:
I thought he was in Dodge City.

Clay McCord:
Is he fast?

Marshal Simon Fry:
He didn't fill 28 graves by accident.

[Clay objects to Simon's plan to trap the outlaw gang that are holding Fran hostage]

Clay McCord:
No, Simon, they promised...

Marshal Simon Fry:
They promised? They promised? What do promises mean to a pack like that? You can't do business with the Devil, Clay.

Clay McCord:
I've got to! Don't you understand? What have you got in your veins - ice water?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Well, not jelly anyway. You think you're the only one with feelin's? What about them guards at the mine? You're settin' them to be butchered.

Clay McCord:
Not if they don't fight!

Marshal Simon Fry:
They'll fight! That's what they're hired to do.

[Fran throws scalding water in Usher's face]

Jack Usher:
My eyes!

Fran McCord:
Tie me up, will you?

Jack Usher:
I'm blind! I can't see!

Fran McCord:
Here I am!

[Fran smashes a heavy frying pan on Usher's head]

[last lines]

[Simon carries the unconcious Fran to a nearby bed]

Clay McCord:
What the Sam Hill?

Marshal Simon Fry:
It's all right, she just fainted. Broken glass - that's how she cut herself loose. Quite a gal, Clay... Clay?

Clay McCord:
Better move her over, Simon. We McCords have had us a hard day.

Marshal Simon Fry:
And a good day, Mr. McCord - a very good day.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Why all this hocus-pocus about a few army rifles?

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
It weren't just a few army rifles. They were Gatling guns - the newest model! Why, you could spray bullets with 'em. They hire a thousand rounds a minute!

Deputy Clay McCord:
How many were there?

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Only two.

Deputy Clay McCord:
*Only* two? According to you, they'd give two men the fire power of a whole brigade!

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Clay, why Gatling guns? They're big; they're clumsy. I can't for the life of me figure out why anyone would steal one.

Deputy Clay McCord:
Well, not to go duck huntin', that's for sure.

Stonewall Brown:
Do you reckon they're hidin' in them there rocks?

Deputy Clay McCord:
Probably.

Stonewall Brown:
You should have asked me to get you eagles instead of men.

Bo Braddock:
Con, wake up! They tracked us!

Con Hawkins:
How many?

Bo Braddock:
I can't tell - a dozen or more. Sergeant Tasker and that lawman from Silver City are leading them.

Con Hawkins:
Well, a dozen, huh? Well, I guess a one-gun salute will be enough of a welcome.

[Colonel Belknap refuses to help Clay because of "regulations"]

Deputy Clay McCord:
Murder and robbery are against regulation, too, Colonel, and it doesn't help that they're using stolen army equipment!

Colonel Belknap:
Yes, yes. Your chief, Simon Fry, said as much when he was here.

Deputy Clay McCord:
And you disagreed?

Colonel Belknap:
I told him it was a matter for the civilian authorities.

Deputy Clay McCord:
How'd he take it?

Colonel Belknap:
Well, let's say he's a lawman, not a diplomat.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Deception is one of the basic rules of battle tactics. You hit on a dandy scheme, Mr. McCord, and I'm one leader that ain't afraid to take a chance on something new.

[while Sarge and Clay and a dozen army men defended empty wagons from the Gatling gun gang, Simon drove a buillion filled cart to the railroad depot by himself]

Deputy Clay McCord:
There's not much chance of you makin' a bad guess, Simon.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Well, the reckon ain't one hundred percent. It's the bad guesses you remember when you're wheelin' a long on a grub wagon full of buillion with two days of travel ahead of ya. Maybe you're just as glad you are alone in case your schemin' went sour.

[first lines]

Clint Hammer:
This is the beginning, Selene.

[Clint signals his men resulting in a huge explosion]

Ty Lawson:
This is the end, Mildred.

Roy Wilkins:
So maybe he hasn't busted any laws yet. Ain't that the time to step and stop him before he does?

Clay McCord:
If he busts a law, Roy, you let me know, but until then...

Roy Wilkins:
Eh, there are other ways to stop a man, young fella.

Clay McCord:
Well, if you hear of anyone usin' one of them other ways, Roy, you tell him from me, I will step in... and not against Clint Hammer!

Selene Hammer:
I don't care what you say, Mr. McCord. Everybody's gonna thank Daddy for what he's doin'. He's been right before and he's right now.

Clay McCord:
About the gold, I can't say. About everybody...

[Clay shakes his head]

Clay McCord:
Simon, am I...

Clay McCord, Marshal Simon Fry:
...glad to see you.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Why is that you only say that when I'm bushed, blistered all over and can't stay.

Clay McCord:
Can't stay? Why not?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Don't have any more laundry to wash.

Clay McCord:
You ain't leavin' already?

Marshal Simon Fry:
You read the telegram.

Clay McCord:
Well... what about your laundry

Marshal Simon Fry:
Well, this ain't goodbye for ever, Clay. I'll be back. Don't worry - I got confidence in ya.

Clay McCord:
I appreciate it.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Just do me a favor, Clay. There's no need to darn the socks, but when you take 'em down, keep the pairs together, will ya?

Ty Lawson:
I'm really going to enjoy this fight.

Clay McCord:
It's one you better be on time for - to the split second!

Jerry Kirk:
Tell Annie I'm out here.

George Lake:
Her father's with her, Jerry.

Jerry Kirk:
Oh? I was hopin' he'd drop dead by now. Just my luck. Annie!

George Lake:
There's gonna be trouble.

Jerry Kirk:
Then crawl under your desk, George.

Jerry Kirk:
I kind of relish bein' alone with the big man. We always was real fond of each other. Ain't that right, Jenner?

Annie Jenner:
He's my father, Jerry!

Jerry Kirk:
I don't think no less of you on account of it.

Jerry Kirk:
I'm going to tell it to you straight, Deputy, and you're going to have to believe me.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
You can talk just as good behind bars.

Jerry Kirk:
No I can't! A man looks guilty once he's behind bars.

[Jerry returns Clay's pistol]

Jerry Kirk:
I hope that's the last time I ever have to use one of those.

Clay McCord:
I've been hopin' that about everybody for a long time, Jerry

[Clay and Jerry trick the real murderer into confessing to his crime]

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Clay, the next time you want to risk your neck on a silly stunt like this, will you leave me out of it?

Clay McCord:
There was nothing risky about it, Sarge. It was you who was keepin' company with that murderer, not me.

[Sarge twists Jeb's arm behind his back]

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Now the first thing you're going to learn is that it ain't polite to point a gun just to scare people!

Clay McCord:
Plannin' to write a book on etiquette, Sarge?

Clay McCord:
Let's go.

Jeb Barton:
Where?

Clay McCord:
If you're gettin' old enough to play with guns, you're old enough to spend a night in jail.

[shooting rapidly, Simon blasts six tin cans off a log]

Kit:
That's some shootin'! I bet nobody in the territory can fire a rifle as quick as you can, Mr. Fry.

[someone shooting behind Simon blasts the last three targets in quick succession]

Marshal Simon Fry:
[sighs] Hello, Clay.

[discussing outlaw Frank Barton's son, Jeb]

Clay McCord:
Ever since she passed away, he's been runnin' wild... gettin' into one scrape right after the other.

Frank Barton:
Well, McCord, boys will be boys. What are you tryin' to do - stunt his growth? I was the same way when I was his age.

Clay McCord:
Yeah - and look at you now.

Jeb Barton:
You shot Whitey dead!

Frank Barton:
Well, sure. That's what he was going to do the deputy, wasn't it? It's no kids' game. You play it for keeps.

Frank Barton:
The kid's gonna be all right.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Aw, it's just like I told you, Clay. Barton couldn't play it straight no matter what he promised you.

Frank Barton:
I gave him a taste of outlawin' that'll last him the rest of his life.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
How about when you told Jeff to gun me down. What would you have done if he'd obeyed ya?

Frank Barton:
It wouldn't have mattered. The rifle was empty. When I shot Whitey when he was about to shoot you in the back, I never reloaded.

[last lines]

Marshal Simon Fry:
You know your trouble, Clay - you got a nasty temper.

Clay McCord:
Well, if you spent the last 48 hours the way I did with one eye on Barton and the other lookin' for bounty hunters...

Marshal Simon Fry:
And no sense of humor. If it wasn't for your blind luck, you'd never make a good lawman.

[Clay smiles]

Clay McCord:
You ain't likely to find a needle in this haystack, Simon.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Not unless it stands up and stuck us.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Who bushwhacked ya?

Clay McCord:
Martha Jackson.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
But I thought she was a lady.

Clay McCord:
I ain't figured her out yet.

[addressing the corpse of the man she just murdered]

Martha Jackson:
I was devoted to you while it lasted.

Alvy Burke:
Why don't we save ourselves a lot of time? It's simple: you hang my brother; I'm going to shoot your deputy. I'm going through with my part of the bargain because that's the way I'm made; you're not going to let your deputy die because that's the way you're made. Why don't we stop bluffing each other?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Your brother's going to be on those gallows at three o'clock, Burke. Make no mistake about it.

Alvy Burke:
I don't make mistakes. I'll tell you how I avoid 'em - I look into that head of yours and I ride the wheels. You gotta pretty good reputation in these parts because you think like a criminal, huh? You see, it never occurred to you a criminal could think like a lawman.

[Clay has just shot Jimmie Burke trying to escape]

Deputy Clay McCord:
Well, he was right about one thing - he said Alvy'd never let him hang.

Alvy Burke:
Whadja do, Marshal? What happened?

Marshal Simon Fry:
I thought about my way, then I thought about your way, then I rode the wheels in my deputy's head.

Clay McCord:
It just doesn't make sense, Simon. Aaron's father left him the place in good shape. There wasn't any reason for him to turn rustler.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Two places you ain't likely to see the inside of - a man's heart and his pocketbook.

Herk Lamson:
First thing I'm going to do in the morning is organize a posse. I'm going to cover them hills like a blanket.

Clay McCord:
What I need is a blanket for tonight. Bringing that Grissom herd home sure wearied by bones.

Herk Lamson:
Well, we didn't waste the whole day, Clay. At least we found out cowpokin' ain't for storekeepers.

Clay McCord:
Good night, Herk.

Herk Lamson:
Ohhh... It ain't for marshals, either.

Fran McCord:
There's no nice way to tell a woman he doesn't love her.

Herk Lamson:
I say he's got to have a man to man talk with her.

Fran McCord:
With a woman?

Clay McCord:
What is this, Mr. Rivers?

Jack Rivers:
What's it look like?

Clay McCord:
Well, to most people it would look like gold dust, but to me, it's evidence.

Marshal Simon Fry:
I want to have a few words with Marshal Harris.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Mr. Fry, you want me to help you talk to him?

Marshal Simon Fry:
No, Sarge, you're a fightin' man.

[Fry accuses Harris of provided inside information to outlaws]

Marshal Simon Fry:
The only gold in that shipment this morning was in the driver's teeth, Jason, and everybody knew it but you.

Clay McCord:
Now, Simon, don't talk about Marshal Harris like he was a common criminal.

Marshal Simon Fry:
He ain't - he's a special kind. First I've run into in twenty years in this business.

[Clay joins Simon who is hiding among cattails in a lake's shallows]

Marshal Simon Fry:
You sure took your sweet time gettin' here.

Clay McCord:
I was waitin' for the sun to warm the water a bit.

Clay McCord:
How's the report goin'?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Sometimes I wonder what a marshal needs most - a fast gun or a flowery pen.

[Simon returns Harris' badge]

Marshal Simon Fry:
Pin it on.

Marshal Jason Harris:
It's a mite tarnished.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Those things shine right up with a little effort.

[last lines]

Clay McCord:
Ain't you?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Ain't I what?

Clay McCord:
Ever gonna grow a tough hide?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Go on about your business, Deputy. I just found the words to finish my report.

[first lines]

[speaking to a bounty hunter he just killed]

Johnny Shanks:
You were going to take me dead or alive, huh?

Clay McCord:
Howdy, Simon. What brings you to Silver City?

Fran McCord:
What always brings Mr. Fry to Silver City? Trouble!

Clay McCord:
You peace officers?

Slane:
Sort of.

Clay McCord:
Where are your badges?

[Utah brandishes his rifle]

Utah:
This'll do for our badges.

Clay McCord:
Bounty hunters!

Clay McCord:
One thing you gotta say for Simon Fry. Once he deputizes you, he don't ever let you resign.

Gar Logan:
[to Dixie] You make one wrong move and this town will be holding your funeral on Dixie Miller day.

[Clay shot a would-be bank robber]

Dixie Miller:
How-How'd you happen to come along?

Clay McCord:
Now, Dixie, don't you hold it against me, but that story you told me back at the saloon could have been true or it could have been a lie - so I followed you.

Dixie Miller:
I don't blame you, Mr. McCord. I'm just a fat old man who don't deserve anybody's confidence.

Clay McCord:
Now, I don't go along with you there. I got a whole lot of confidence in a man who's just pure poison to bank robbers.

Clay McCord:
Whatja doin' here any how?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Now just a minute, Clay. Let's get one thing straight. If things have reached the pass where the Chief Marshal gotta answer questions from a deputy before he gets around to answerin' his own, you and me better change jobs.

[first lines]

Clay McCord:
Are you Lex Denton?

Lex Danton:
Yeah, that's right, but I didn't expect a welcoming committee.

Clay McCord:
Marshal Fry sent word you were headed in this direction.

Lex Danton:
Any law against that?

Clay McCord:
Well, that depends on what you got in mind.

Lex Danton:
Well, I'm here just like any other peaceful citizen.

Clay McCord:
That don't hardly fit your description.

Lex Danton:
Well, four years in prison more or less quiets a man down. Warden called it... rehabilitation.

Lex Danton:
Mary, a man never stops looking for his wife.

Mary Willis:
Why did you lie to me, Lex? Why didn't you tell me the truth when you were courting me?

Lex Danton:
Because you would have said "No."

Mary Willis:
All right, so I said it several months later.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
[to Mary] You know, about the only time I remember I got duties is when the Deputy introduces me to somebody, so I guess I better go take care of 'em.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Well, if that's the way they feel about it, it looks like it's up to you, me and Simon, Clay. When school's out, I'll load off the rifles in your rack. We might be short of manpower, but we're sure going to have some firepower.

Clay McCord:
Folks are always tellin' kids what's right. No reason why it shouldn't work the other way for a change.

Jenkins:
We got scared, but we're not scared now. We're ready to fight to keep you here.

Alden:
We had no right in breaking that contract with you in the first place.

Clay McCord:
You're still a teacher here.

Mary Willis:
Thank you.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Amazin' to find out how much you don't know soon as you start teachin' others what they oughta know.

[last lines]

Marshal Simon Fry:
It's your town and there's. It's better for you to defend it by yourselves... even if it ain't written in the book of statutes.

[Meg Billings' husband has been paroled from prison]

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Simon, can I ask you somethin'?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Sure.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Couple or three times I heard talk - about you and Meg billings, I mean.

Marshal Simon Fry:
It's killin' I'm here to stop, not talk.

[Shad Billings has just been paroled from prison where he was serving time for murder]

Marshal Simon Fry:
What are you going to do?

Shad Billings:
Raise cattle again. Why?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Cattle... maybe a little Cain?

Shad Billings:
You haven't changed a bit.

Marshal Simon Fry:
The question is - have you?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Come here to tell you that Shad Billings is back.

Trace Phelan:
You on the level?

Marshal Simon Fry:
I'll tell you one more thing, Phelan. Stay away from him - and his wife.

Barber:
[to Phelan] Looks like you won't be needin' a bath this trip.

Trace Phelan:
Oh, shut up and fix that water.

Shad Billings:
Oh, I can mend fences, I can paint, I can work from dawn until dark, but what can I do to mend what's happened to us?

Meg Billings:
Nothing. Too much has come between. Too much liquor, too much trying to push back loneliness...

Meg Billings:
Simon Fry was here yesterday. He wanted me to go away. I wouldn't then, 'cause I wanted you to punish me. Now it'll be me that'll punish you. Folks won't forget about me; they'll talk, they'll shame you.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Join me in a drink?

Trace Phelan:
Well now, that's real nice of you, Marshal, but I got a rule - no liquor when I'm workin'.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Can't see you gettin' much done.

Trace Phelan:
For an impatient man like me, waitin's work.

Trace Phelan:
You know, Marshal, I'm by way of bein' a peaceful man. You ask anybody here who it was that settled the trouble at the Arizona Star mine when the diggers wanted two dollars a day more.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Killed a couple of men settlin' it.

Trace Phelan:
They drew on me - a dozen witnesses saw 'em. Couldn't just stand there. Besides, that's what the mine company hired me for - to keep everything peaceful... even if it took bullets to do it.

[Simon has arrested Shad for a parole violation]

Trace Phelan:
You all saw him - he don't even wear a gun. This time it was Shad; next time it'll be me.

Marshal Simon Fry:
That's right, Phelan.

Trace Phelan:
You gonna run me out of town, Marshal?

Marshal Simon Fry:
What I said was clean out of the territory.

[Phelan reaches for his gun]

Marshal Simon Fry:
You make *that* move and you might go even further.

Barber:
Trace Phelan backed down to you, Marshal. He backed down!

Marshal Simon Fry:
That disappoint you?

Barber:
Nobody can say I like to see blood spilled.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Well, that ought to make your customers feel better when you shave 'em.

[last lines]

[Simon kills Phelan when he tries to use Meg as a hostage]

Marshal Simon Fry:
I said, "Clean out of the territory" but I warned him it might be even further than that.

Barney Wagner:
You just serve the papers.

Clay McCord:
And if I refuse?

Barney Wagner:
Oh, you ain't gonna do that. There's those who might misunderstand your motives.

Clay McCord:
What do you mean?

Barney Wagner:
Maybe you didn't catch the name - Barney Wagner. Oh, you musta been a kid about eleven when you heard it last.

Clay McCord:
Barney Wagner...

Barney Wagner:
That's right, McCord. I'm the man who put the final bullet in your father.

Alva Wagner:
Somehow it doesn't seem fair taking the land from people who didn't do anyhting but forget some old papers.

Barney Wagner:
That's business, Alva. That's the way money is made. And once a man's made it you watch how quick people forget how it was made. They only remember that he's got it.

Barney Wagner:
You didn't seem to complain when I bought you a new dress or a fancy hat or some French perfume. You didn't care where the money came from then.

Alva Wagner:
Barney, if you think I married you for things like that, I might as well get out of here right now!

Barney Wagner:
Honey, I didn't mean...

Alva Wagner:
Just remember that the one thing I really want you won't give me and that's for you to be able to walk out a door without looking around to see if somebody's going to shoot first. Oh, Barney, there's one dress I don't want - a black one!

Marshal Simon Fry:
Wagner's shrewd. He's got you in a box. You gonna have to serve 'em. The chief marshal can't expect his deputy to do any different... but there's more than one way to skin a cat.

Clay McCord:
What you drivin' at?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Aw, there's a whole mess of laws, statutes, regulations that people don't bother to learn or remember, like spittin' on a sidewalk, failin' to tether a horse or muddyin' a drinking trough, or offerin' a bribe. Any one of 'em could have a body thrown in jail until a circuit judge shows up. That could take a looong time.

Barney Wagner:
Honey, you sound like you don't trust me to do the right thing.

Alva Wagner:
I'm beginning to think you don't know how.

Jose:
By the way, you speak with the judge?

Clay McCord:
The law's a wonderful thing. It has as many bends as the Snake River.

Clay McCord:
If you're hired hands have any ideas, you better tell 'em to get rid of 'em.

Barney Wagner:
You can't outshoot all of 'em, Clay.

Clay McCord:
Well, if you won't take it for boastin', I'm faster than my father ever was.

[Clay proceeds to shoot all three henchmen out of their saddles]

[last lines]

Marshal Simon Fry:
[narrating] Law and justice ain't always the same thing. A peace officer's job is to uphold the law, but even more, it's to see justice is done... and that deputy of mine was just the man to help me get it done.

[first lines]

Clay McCord:
How come we're headin' back to Colby's place?

Marshal Simon Fry:
I thought he might like to ride into town with us. Safer there.

[referring to Josie, their shackled prisoner]

Marshal Simon Fry:
She'll look better to him in bracelets than breaking into his strongbox.

Josie Styles:
You won't never find my husband! A lotta other lawmen tried - didn't do 'em no good.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Other lawmen didn't capture Farley Styles' wife and have a live witness to point her out.

[looking at a Colby's corpse]

Marshal Simon Fry:
Right between the eyes.

Josie Styles:
There goes your witness, Marshal.

Clay McCord:
Gallows near ready?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Yeah... and from the way some people talk, you and the judge are going to be the first ones to sample it.

Judge:
Is it going to work, Simon?

Marshal Simon Fry:
I can't say. I've never baited a trap with a noose before.

Clay McCord:
Simon, what if they all cool off and go home?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Clay, they gotta stay riled up. If Styles is gonna make his move, it's going to be because he's convinced the hangin's comin' off on schedule. If the town stays riled up, it'll help convince him.

Clay McCord:
If they don't?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Well, then Judge Stokes will give Josie a last minute reprieve.

Clay McCord:
Have you considered her feelin's?

Marshal Simon Fry:
And the feelin's of every dead victim of Farley Styles - past, present *and* future.

[Simon suspects that "Jesse Brown" is really outlaw Farley Styles]

Clay McCord:
Is Brown starting to earn his pay?

Marshal Simon Fry:
I'm hopin' he'll start to pay off.

Marshal Simon Fry:
I don't know what he's up to, Clay, but he's beginning to look more like Styles and less like Brown every minute.

[refering to Brown/Styles]

Clay McCord:
We better not let him out of our sight.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Don't worry. He's shown at least part of his hand and he ain't holdin' any aces.

[last lines]

Marshal Simon Fry:
I had to convince Farley I meant to hang Josie - ain't that so?

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Yeah.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Well, nothin' could have convinced him better than what you tried to do.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
You mean you even had that figured in your scheme?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Wellll, maybe there was a little sprinklin' of luck in it, too, but a little bit of luck and a dash or two of schemin' is a pretty good recipe for a lawman. Hasta Luego.

[first lines]

Herk Lamson:
Who's this?

Old Timer:
Joe Holland. I found him up in the pass near the Big Sandy. He's got a bullet... in the back!

Clay McCord:
This note was tucked in his pocket. It says "Heck Lamson is next".

Marshal Simon Fry:
I'm taking you both back to Prescott.

Dorothy Mansfield's Brother:
What's the charge?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Well, you could say "resistin' an officer" but, to tell you the truth, you're going to help me test a theory.

Dorothy Mansfield's Brother:
I don't get ya.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Well now, if you were a peace officer instead of Dorothy Mansfield's brother, what would you think if you heard the foreman of the jury and the trial judge were both dead - murdered!

Dorothy Mansfield's Brother:
Dorothy never killed her husband and they sent her up for life! Still doesn't mean we had anything to do with whay you're talkin' about.

[referring to Tom Clement's trial]

Clay McCord:
The jury decided this case over a year ago. Nobody here's got the right to try it again.

[last lines]

Clay McCord:
Wasn't very polite of you steppin' on his foot like that.

Herk Lamson:
I guess I forgot my manners on account of you.

Clay McCord:
Why on account of me?

Herk Lamson:
You ain't wearin' your badge! Next time you come around to pull me out of a jam, you better come dressed *formal*.

Clay McCord:
We have to tell Hector Pratt. We can't let him go off alone in that wagon.

Herk Lamson:
Want a gun?

[Heck lists the coat of his Santa Claus costume and reveals a small arsenal of pistols]

Clay McCord:
Santa...

Timmy:
Will Santa Claus be in Kansas City in time for Christmas, Uncle Heck?

Herk Lamson:
Sure he will!

Timmy:
Are you sure?

Herk Lamson:
Of course I'm sure, Timmy. He told me himself.

Timmy:
He did? When?

Herk Lamson:
He sent me a telegram this morning.

Clay McCord:
He signed it Simon Fry, but that's only a name he uses when it ain't Christmas.

[a hired killer force Simon to drive along a cliff road]

Marshal Simon Fry:
Still and all, if I was going to my doom, I felt onery enough to want company.

Fran McCord:
Well, what were you two so serious about?

Clay McCord:
Simon's dead.

Fran McCord:
I've almost got it in me to be glad knowing he won't be around temptin' you to be wearing that deputy's badge, knowin' for sure they won't be bringing you back some day full of bullets like they Dad...

[Fran starts to cry]

Fran McCord:
Clay, it's going to be black and empty knowing he'll never walk into the store.

Clay McCord:
What kind of cheap stunt have you pulled this time?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Cheap is right! Don't get in the habit of penny-pinchin'. I was a might riled at that shabby hearse, that cheap pine coffin you got me.

Clay McCord:
So help me, Simon Fry, this is the last filthy trick you ever play on me!

Marshal Simon Fry:
I'm not playin' it on you, Clay. I'm playin' it on the fellow that tried to get me out of the way.

Clay McCord:
Well, if there is such a fellow he'd better stay out of my way...

Marshal Simon Fry:
Thanks, Clay.

Clay McCord:
...Because I'd like to kill him for bungling the job!

Clay McCord:
Maybe he's your man.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Nah, he's just a flea on the hound dog.

Clay McCord:
You know where this Carter is now?

Marshal Simon Fry:
No, he was hiding up the line somewhere. He was going to lead me to him. I hate to see him end up a failure.

Marshal Simon Fry:
I'm lookin' for Jake Carter.

Vic Rufus:
He ain't here. He lit out.

Marshal Simon Fry:
You ain't got the best reputation for honesty, Rufus.

Marshal Simon Fry:
I know I'm legally dead, Jake, but I guess legal ain't always final.

[last lines]

Clay McCord:
You don't never change, Simon - dead or alive.

[first lines]

Tommy Brown:
What you stop for, Mom?

Amelia Brown:
Look ahead there, Tommy. That's where you were born.

Tommy Brown:
It's awful sorry lookin'.

Amelia Brown:
Well, you're gonna live there, Tommy, in that house. No more runnin' away from unfriendly folks.

Amelia Brown:
Go over there and get me that axe. I'm going to chop this tree down.

Tommy Brown:
Ma, why?

Amelia Brown:
It belongs to the *decent* citizens of Silver City. They branded it their hangin' tree.

Tommy Brown:
Howdy. Appears like you're the sheriff.

Clay McCord:
No, I'm the deputy marshal.

Tommy Brown:
Boy, I bet you you're fast on the draw.

[pretending he's wearing a holster, Tommy whips out an imaginary pistol and points his finger at Clay]

Tommy Brown:
Bang-bang! Bang-bang!

Clay McCord:
Hey hey hey hey! Be careful where you point that thing.

Clay McCord:
I figured the only way to handle this is exactly the way you would.

Marshal Simon Fry:
How's that?

Clay McCord:
Well, I already wired Phoenix and Mesa. Amelia lived in both them places like she claimed. Well, I figure her interests lies in the lynchin', the school, the roof or the loot.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Got a first pick?

Clay McCord:
Yeah. Well, like I say, I been thinkin' like you would. Now if you was a widow, I figure you'd be set on recoverin' the loot first.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Dang if some of my oneryness ain't rubbed off on you after all.

Clay McCord:
You got plenty to spare.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Who else you got tucked away back there?

Clay McCord:
Ah, Chuck Burloyne.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Burloyne! I thought he was tucked away safe in Tannersville.

Clay McCord:
Oh, it seems he busted loose the night after I went up there to ask him some questions.

Marshal Simon Fry:
That so? I never heard of anyone bustin' out of Tannersville except with some outside help.

Clay McCord:
Well, he got help from me and the warden.

Marshal Simon Fry:
You better explain that. How did the warden get into it?

Clay McCord:
Had to talk to him mighty persuasive, but I kept sayin' to myself, "This is the way Simon would do it."

Marshal Simon Fry:
You sayin' I would arrange for a prisoner to break jail?

Clay McCord:
You sure would! If he could lead you to five thousand dollars of stolen money.

[last lines]

Clay McCord:
It turns out Burloyne lynched him, tryin' to make him tell where the money was hid. He was real obligin' with his confession. Claimed he just meant to coax Lem a little, but the horse bolted.

Marshal Simon Fry:
It was real obligin' tellin' you that.

Clay McCord:
Oh, well, me and Sarge might have persuaded him a little - knowin' how you'd have gone about it. You want to hear about it?

Marshal Simon Fry:
If you was goin' about it like me, I don't want to hear about it ever! Don't want anyone disturbin' my sleep, 'cause I gotta get started for Flagstaff with my prisoner in the mornin'.

[Sarge is drawing mustaches and beards on Clay's wanted posters]

Marshal Simon Fry:
You got a long way to go to catch up with Rembrandt.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Oh? What's he wanted for?

Pedro O'Brien:
I am Pedro O'Brien.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Pedro O'Brien? You Irish?

Pedro O'Brien:
No, senor. My father, when he come from Mexico, he love this country so much, he change his name.

Deputy Clay McCord:
What does he think of this country now?

Pedro O'Brien:
He's dead, senor, and it's better that he is.

[referring to Clay and Sarge]

Judge Denton:
Well, we'll be rid of them tomorrow... or, we'll get rid of them.

Clay McCord:
What are you tryin' to prove?

Frank Engle:
There ain't no lawman that I can't out-think, out-fight or out-last.

Marshal Simon Fry:
[narrating] As chief marshal of the Arizona Territory, when I heard the news I headed for Silver City as fast as horseflesh would take me. The bank robbery and the burnin' of Clay's store was bad enough, but the cripplin' of Herk Lamson was a calamity.

Clay McCord:
Drop that gun.

Coffer:
I'd just soon go out in gunsmoke as at the end of a rope.

Herk Lamson:
The town's sizzling. If he were healthy, they'd give him a dancing lesson - at the end of a rope.

Marshal Simon Fry:
How old would you say that boy is, Miss Fran?

Fran McCord:
Not more than sixteen.

Herk Lamson:
With a gun in his hand, he's old enough to vote!

Fran McCord:
Where's your ma?

Bob Claxton:
Dead - died not long after they hung my pa.

Fran McCord:
They hung your pa? What for?

Bob Claxton:
Horse stealin' - there'd been a lot of it around. Folks seemed to think Pa was responsible.

Fran McCord:
Was he?

Bob Claxton:
Stealin' stopped right after they stretched him.

Solomon Claxton:
Relax, Mike. Every day the kid gets stronger.

Mike Claxton:
And the rope around his neck gets tighter.

Solomon Claxton:
That ain't gonna happen to a Claxton - not while there's another Claxton still alive.

[referring to Bob's good manners and common sense]

Fran McCord:
Didn't I tell you?

Judge Jones:
The question is, can you tell the two innocent men who were shot down during the hold-up?

Clay McCord:
Your brothers are forcin' you to do this, aren't they? Well, now is your chance to break away! Tell 'em you're goin' straight.

Bob Claxton:
Goin' straight to my hangin', you mean.

Judge Jones:
You know somethin'? I was taken in, too. I had just promised Clay to help get the boy a new trial when the shootin' started.

Fran McCord:
You did?

Judge Jones:
That's a fact. So you just perk up and be proud you did what you thought was right. You and the people of Silver City wanted to give the boy a second chance. So it turns out he didn't want it. He's the one that made the mistake - not you.

Trooper Nelson:
You didn't say you were fixin' to shoot anyone, Bull.

Bull Ward:
Anyone who might talk too much, I was shootin'.

Trooper Nelson:
He'da been too scared.

Bull Ward:
Aw, kid, he was only a Mexican. They don't count - only Indians do.

[last lines]

[Charlotte kisses Clay]

Charlotte Nelson:
I don't know how I'll ever by able to thank you enough.

Clay McCord:
We'll you're doing pretty well at it.

Herk Lamson:
[to Clay] They pay you better these days than they did when I was a young deputy.

Clay McCord:
That's a fact, Herk.

[Sarge stops a runaway wagon after the driver was shot]

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Is he all right, son?

Tommy White:
Don't call me "son"! I ain't kin to you... I ain't kin to nobody no more.

Tommy White:
I told you, I don't need no help!

Clay McCord:
Those that say it at all are usually the ones who need it the most, Tommy.

Grisby:
Brought the old man's belongin's like you asked. Owned not much more than this and the clothes on his back.

Clay McCord:
Well, he had one thing that was worth a lot.

Grisby:
Yeah? What?

Clay McCord:
That boy's devotion.

[Clay wants Sarge to look after Tommy until a premanent guardian can be appointed]

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Oh, no you don't, McCord! You been out in the sun too long. Your brain is as dry as beef jerky! Why, no normal youngster could live in the back of an army supply store.

Clay McCord:
Why? You do.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
But I ain't normal!

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
About time you got back, McCord, leavin' me with that wildcat! Now you pack up that kid and get him outta here pronto - four days is enough. Why, I'd rather live with a bunch of Kiowas.

Clay McCord:
Don't tell me he's been givin' you trouble.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Oh, nothin' to speak of - I mean there ain't a day goes by that he don't pick a fight with some kid. He's got no respect for anything. If I talk to him he goes deaf in both ears. Why, if I keep him around, I'll get drummed out of the service.

Clay McCord:
For what he does?

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
No! For what I'm liable to do to him!

[last lines]

Marshal Simon Fry:
[discussing Tommy] You know, he did pick up a lot since I last saw him. He'll make a good man some day... and every good man makes our jobs easier.

Clay McCord:
That's right.

[Allison's horse races off into the trees]

Tomaso:
He will go home.

Clay McCord:
Starfire is free to go where he wants to. Wish I could say the same for you and Queed.

[first lines]

Marshal Simon Fry:
[narrating] When you're a Chief Marshal, trouble's your bread and butter, but when you get too much of it, you lose your appetite. Six bank hold-ups in three months - not one of 'em solved. Now, to top things off, my favorite deputy, Clay McCord, was gettin' nowhere on a matter of murder.

Frank Bennett:
Look, we stick together, what can he do, huh?

Jay Bennett:
Besides, where can we can get better odds than three against one?

Gary Bennett:
Four against one.

Jay Bennett:
What do you mean?

Gary Bennett:
The deputy's on our side.

Marshal Simon Fry:
[discussing a murdered man] Where were the Bennetts when he got stabbed?... You didn't think to ask 'em!

Clay McCord:
What for? They didn't even know him!

Marshal Simon Fry:
Sometimes I think maybe you're a little young for this job.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Why, the Bennett boys were the ones were playin' cards with, Simon. They're regular fellas.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Well, let's go talk to 'em.

Clay McCord:
What for?

Marshal Simon Fry:
For one thing, it's the only lead we got. For another, maybe one of 'em ain't so regular.

Clay McCord:
Can't win 'em all, you know. You gotta lose once in a while.

Marshal Simon Fry:
When it comes to murder, I'm the world's worst loser.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Get anything out of the girls? They all give the Bennett boys the same alibi, huh? I'll go along with ya - one of those girls is lyin'.

Marshal Simon Fry:
They ain't lyin'. That's what's drivin' me out of my mind.

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
I can't keep up with you, Simon.

Marshal Simon Fry:
They ain't lyin' - I know it! How can all of their alibis be the truth when one of those boys is guilty. Terry's too dumb to lie - ain't that right?

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Well, if you're askin' me...

Marshal Simon Fry:
Suzy's too addled to think up a good lie let alone for them to trust her. Martha just ain't the type. I danced her in every direction; she came up the same every time.

[last lines]

Sergeant Hapgood Tasker:
Clay, I'd like to see you - if you was in the army - talk to your commanding officer like that.

Clay McCord:
Sarge, if you stand on ceremony with Simon Fry, you wouldn't be in his army at all.

Douglas Brainard:
I think we'd better give up. We've been circling for two hours.

Clay McCord:
No... we can't give up.

Douglas Brainard:
You're not going to make it, Clay.

Clay McCord:
You're forgettin' one thing, Mr. Brainard.

Douglas Brainard:
Yeah? What's that?

Clay McCord:
If we give up, Simon ain't gonna make it, either.

Clay McCord:
Where's Brainerd?

Posse Member:
We left him inside - slight case of gun barrel over the head.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Brainard and his crew ought to be worth a big reward.

Clay McCord:
The way I feel, the best part of it will be spent for doctor's bills - that is, if I get it.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Oh, you won't get it, 'cause no rewards been posted. Only reward you'll get is you saved me the beatin' you took.

[last lines]

Clay McCord:
You mean you knew all the time I might have to take this beatin'?

Marshal Simon Fry:
Well, you're gettin' good money for your trouble, boy.

Clay McCord:
That's right, Simon. The law has to expect trouble. 'Course, it's the scars and bruises that make it worthwhile.

Johnny Blatner:
You know it was all my pa's doin'. I didn't want no part of it. Really, Mr. Fry, he beat me blue this time. He *made* me do it again.

Marshal Simon Fry:
Save that calf-lookin' whinin' for someone who ain't felt your claws.

[last lines]

Marshal Simon Fry:
Ain't too much to say for a man - that he could have killed someone but he didn't - but then, Johnny ain't a man... he's a kid.