Four Fast Guns1960

Hoag:
Now what you ought to do is take a good, long ride for yourself.

Tom Sabin:
I've been told that before. I don't like it.

Hoag:
Oh? In that case, you can mail these letters for me on the way out.

Tom Sabin:
Naco, Brown, Quijano...

Hoag:
The three fastest guns in the territory. You know 'em?

Tom Sabin:
Only by reputation. You sendin' for 'em?

Hoag:
Could be birthday cards. But you could, uh, tear up those letters if you wanted to take that ride.

Tom Sabin:
That would be tamperin' with the government mail.

Hoag:
Johnny Naco, Quijano and a man they call Farmer Brown...

Tom Sabin:
Happy birthday.