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Holliday: [about how long Wyatt will stay in town] Until you catch the rustlers that killed your brother? Wyatt: That's the general idea. Holliday: What's the specific idea? Wyatt: I don't follow you quite. Holliday: You haven't taken it into your head to deliver us from all evil? Wyatt: I hadn't thought of it quite like that, but ain't a bad idea. It's what I'm gettin' paid fer. Holliday: Let's get down to cases, Marshal. I, for instance. How would you handle me if I took a notion to break the law? Wyatt: You already have. Holliday: For example. Wyatt: Runnin' that tin-horn out of town. That's none of your business. Holliday: I see we're in opposite camps, Marshal. Draw! [Holliday pulls and cocks his gun on Earp.] Wyatt: Can't. [He opens up his vest to reveal he doesn't wear a gun.] Holliday: We can take care of that easily enough. Mac! [Holliday shouts to the bartender for a gun. Before Mac can do anything, Wyatt's brother - standing behind Holliday - slides a gun down the bar to Wyatt to balance up the sides.] Wyatt: [Wyatt examines the gun and then slides it back on the bar to his brother.] Brother Morg's gun. [Holliday uncocks his gun and returns it to his holster.] The big one - that's Morg. The other one, that good-lookin' fella, that's my brother Virg. This is Doc Holliday, fellas. Morg: Hi ya, Doc. Virg: Howdy. Holliday: Howdy. Have a drink. Morg: Don't mind if I do, Doc.

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