Dodge City

There's the 23rd marker, sir.

Twenty-three miles in

one hour and 14 minutes.

Gentlemen, that is moving.

Our engineer is trying to

set a record on the first run.

But I doubt if we can maintain

this speed on our regular schedule.

Why not? If this train can

do it, the rest of them can.

Providing Col. Dodge's new

town is worth speeding to reach.

Worth it? You wait and see.

Now it's just the end of the

line, but in a few years...

it'll give your railroad more

business than any town west of Chicago.

I hope you're right, Colonel. You've

stuck to that argument for five years.

Why shouldn't I?

I've raised that town from two

hog pens and a buffalo waller.

How big is it now, Colonel?

Well, at the last census, gentlemen,

they had three buffalo wallers.

Look, there goes the

stagecoach from Wichita.

We'll be carrying the mail from now on.

Listen to that snorting

teapot. She's already winded.

By Jove, we'll run her into the ground.

Better put your whip to them.

- Willie?

- Yes, sir, boss?

You go up and tell our engineer...

if that stagecoach beats us to

the end of the line, he's fired.

Yes, sir. And if this

train go any faster...

I'm gonna get off and walk...

'cause I don't like

this zest of the Lord.

By George, he's making a

good showing, you know it.

- We'll get him.

- We'd better get up some speed here.

- There he goes.

- We've got him.

Gentlemen, that's a symbol

of America's future: progress.

Iron men and iron horses.

You can't beat them.

Lucky devils. Nothing

to do, but eat and sleep.

That's right, hardhead.

The only difference between

you and them is a pair of horns.

Hush.

Say, Wade, let's cut

out a couple of them.

No. We've killed our last buffalo, boys.

The railroad's finished

and so is our contract.

Besides, we've a little

appointment to keep, you know.

Come on.

Here comes our meal ticket

for the last six months.

So that's what a steam engine

looks like:
a coffeepot on wheels.

Come on, let's pay our

respects to the Colonel.

- Hello, Colonel. How are you?

- Fine, son. See you soon.

We'll be there.

By golly, Dodge, you

know everybody in Kansas.

Not quite. Those boys

have been working for us...

hunting buffalo to feed

our construction gang.

The young Irishman is Wade

Hatton. I met him during the war.

He fought for the rebels

in Jeb Stuart's cavalry.

Been everywhere, done

everything. Sort of a rover.

Well, it takes all sorts

of men to build a railroad.

No, sir. Just a couple of us Irishmen.

On your toes, men!

We're gonna start moving.

Watch those hides they don't slip.

Keep on your toes.

We're gonna start moving.

You drivers keep close together.

Ready to start whenever you say, Jeff.

All right, let's move fast!

- Which one of you men is Jeff Surrett?

- I am. Why?

I'm John Barlow, Commissioner

of Indian Affairs, from Kansas.

- You're under arrest. All three of you.

- For what?

For the illegal killing of

buffalo and selling their hides.

We got those buffalo on free

land, just the same as he did.

He has a government permit to kill

buffalo for the railroad workers.

- You got any such permit?

- No.

- Is this some of your business, Hatton?

- I made it my business.

As soon as I found out you were

shooting buffalo on Indian territory...

stealing the hides, and

letting the meat rot in the sun.

When any Indians protested, you

shot them down in cold blood.

This has been going on all winter.

It took you till now

to catch up with us?

We didn't want to. We just watched

you and counted the animals you killed.

You're lying. You'd have made them

stop us before, if you'd known.

Why? It seemed a better idea to let

you and your pals work your head off...

packing and curing those

hides until they caught you.

So that's why you waited so long?

The Indians might just as well get

the hides in good salable condition.

All right, Hatton.

But I hope you stick around

Kansas for a long time...

because we're gonna collect for

every one of those hides in full.

Right. If you're ever

around our way, look us up.

All right, boys.

- Congratulations, Colonel.

- Thanks, Rusty.

Wade, you've been a great

help in building this railroad.

Now the real work begins.

We've got to make it pay.

That's up to you.

No, it isn't. I've got other work to

do. We're looking further westward.

I want you to take charge

here, help build up this town.

- Organize trade for our road.

- No, thanks, sir.

We're on our way back to Texas. We'll

drive cattle up to meet your railroad.

If we keep hanging around here, these

two galoots are gonna get civilized.

We better leave here before old fog

head starts eating with a knife and fork.

A knife, anyway.

You couldn't keep Wade here, Colonel.

He's the most moving-on

man you ever saw.

First off, he was in the

English Army over in India.

Then he got mixed up in some kind of

a hooray revolution down in Cuba way.

Then he started punching cattle in Texas.

That was before he enlisted in the war.

So he's either the greatest

traveler ever lived...

or else he is the biggest liar.

And now, it gives me great

pleasure to introduce to you...

the man who made this

progress possible: Col. Dodge.

Ladies and gentlemen...

today a great chapter of

history has been written...

and we take justifiable pride...

in bringing this railroad to the

terminal furthest west in this country.

Someday, and I believe it

will be in the near future...

a great city will spring from this

very spot upon which we now stand.

A city which will represent

all that the West stands for:

honesty, courage, morality, and culture.

For all the noble

virtues of civilization.

I can see a great metropolis

of homes, churches, schools.

A fine, decent city, which will

become the flower of the prairie.

A city whose name...

Yeah, Colonel. Just what do you aim

to call this here perfect metropolis?

What are we going to call it?

Why not call it after the man

who made it possible? Dodge City.

That's right. Dodge City it is.

Be sure to give those

cattle plenty of salt.

The more water, the more weight.

Cattle is sure some business.

They must come to Dodge City from

all over the world, don't they, Pop?

Almost, son. Hold my horse.

Wait, Surrett. You can't ship

those cattle. Where's my money?

You'll get it, Cole. Why

don't you stop worrying?

You've got no right to ship

those cattle until I'm paid.

$15,000 dollars, cash in hand.

Those were the terms we agreed on.

Take it easy. I can't be running to

the bank every time a train leaves town.

If you don't trust me,

other cattle brokers will.

Maybe they used to, Surrett...

but not since what happened

to Sam Chapin and Kit Sproull.

They trusted you, too,

didn't they? But not me.

I'm coming to your place tonight

to collect for these steers.

You have the money waiting for me,

or I'm slapping a warrant on you.

You gotta get what's yours

when dealing with men like that.

They're no good.

Sure, Pop, but we can handle them.

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