McLintock!

Lord to goodness, not again.

- Howdy, Drago.

- Morning, Curly.

Makes seven times this month

he come home swaggled.

- Only six.

- Seven.

Six. Once was his birthday, that don't count.

Give me my buggy whip.

Didn't have anything for breakfast

but two raw eggs and a mug of honey.

- No.

- Curly.

Yes, Boss?

Don't say it's a fine morning,

or I'll shoot you.

Get out of here, Bunyan.

- Good morning.

- Morning.

Carlos, what are you doing up there?

I hope I get it this time, Mr. McLintock.

My brothers, they got the big hats already.

All right, let them have at it.

Get over.

Ain't you gonna let me drive?

You promised me you would sometime.

No.

Boss, you better watch that turn

on the road!

You're gonna kill both of us

one of these days.

Thank you, Mr. Boss!

You got cattle in the back, Boss.

Give it up.

Keep them going.

Fifteen cents a pound,

all the way to Kansas City.

Now, Boss, there's one old pensioner

I wished you'd pass up.

- Bunny?

- Yeah.

- Wish I knew where I'd seen his face before.

- He ain't an old-timer...

he's just been around town

a couple of years.

You have no milk of human kindness.

Morning, Mr. McLintock.

- Morning, Bunny.

- Well, I can see you're in good health.

Never felt better,

contrary to what you may hear.

Me, my kidneys ain't what they used to be...

- and my liver's being leaving me bilious.

- Drago.

- Hello, Ben.

- Hey, McLintock.

- Drago, throw that in the buggy.

- Yes, sir.

- That's a scrubby bunch of sooners.

- They are, at that.

That ought to make Douglas happy.

Lining his pockets with land fees.

What are we gonna do?

I don't know what you're gonna do, Ben.

Me, I do nothing.

Two hundred families,

a quarter of beef a week for a family.

If they last two years,

that can be a sizeable number.

I've got 20 head to...

one of any other brand on the Mesa Verde.

I'm not hollering.

Some of us haven't got all the money

in the world...

and some of us ain't old and tired,

and feel like being put upon.

You interest me, Young Ben. Go on.

So the first time I find one of our hides

wearing our brand...

hung on one of them settlers' fences,

I aim to kill me a plowboy.

You do what you want, McLintock.

We'll do what we want.

Fellows my age generally call me G.W.

Or McLintock.

Youngsters call me Mr. McLintock.

All right, Mr. McLintock.

Not because I'm afraid of you.

You're the big he-stud of this country...

and I reckon a fellow my age

should call you mister.

He's full grown now, G.W.

He's a half owner of this spread.

I made him a full partner

the day the doc gave me the long face.

Well, you want him to vote the first time

this territory becomes a state, don't you?

Of course I do.

If these settlers get burned out,

there'll be a lot of hollering...

that this country's too wild to be a state.

We'll go on being a territory some more...

with a lot of political appointees running it...

according to what they learned

in some college...

where they think

that cows are something you milk...

and Indians are something

in front of a cigar store.

I'm looking to you to hold Young Ben down.

I'll do what I can.

Come on over to the house once in a while,

we'll rack up a few hands of stud.

G. W., that'd be just fine.

It's a nice morning, ain't it, Boss?

Everybody's entitled to their own opinion.

Like that again?

Here's something that'll cheer you up.

About 1,000 head,

I figure they'll bring about $12.50.

They're not as fat as I'd like to ship.

- They all off the North Range?

- Yes, sir.

Settlers. Every one of them with a plow

and a Bible...

and not the slightest idea

what the range is for.

Drago!

- Drag out that hogleg.

- Yes, sir.

Get me some attention.

People, people!

Come on, all of you. Gather round.

People, come on. Gather round.

I'm McLintock.

You people plan to homestead

and farm the Mesa Verde.

Yes, sir.

The government give us each 160 acres.

The government

never gave anybody anything.

Some years back, a lot like you came in.

They had a pretty good first year.

Good summer, easy winter.

But the next year,

the last rain was in February...

and by June, even the jack rabbits

had sense enough to get off the Mesa.

Folks, do you know who that is?

That's McLintock.

George Washington McLintock.

I told them that, Douglas.

He controls the water rights

on 200 square miles of range.

You know that lumber you got?

It came from his land...

cut by his loggers and milled in his mills.

Douglas, I come close to killing you

a couple of times when we were younger.

Saddens me I didn't.

Can you imagine a man who owns all that...

and mines, too, I forgot to mention them.

All that, and he's begrudging poor people...

a measly 160 acres.

That right, Mr. McLintock?

- You begrudge us a little free land?

- There's no such thing as free land.

If you make these homesteads go,

you'll have earned every acre of it.

But you just can't make them go

on the Mesa Verde.

God made that country for buffalo.

Serves pretty well for cattle...

but it hates the plow.

And even the government should know...

that you can't farm

6,000 feet above sea level.

- Any trouble, Mr. McLintock?

- No trouble, Jeff.

- How about you, Douglas?

- Douglas?

Just plain Douglas?

And you call him Mr. McLintock.

Why?

Well, Douglas,

I guess it's because he earned it.

- Mr. McLintock?

- Yeah.

I'm a good hand with cattle, Mr. McLintock.

I'd like a job.

Well, you look strong enough.

You come in with those sooners?

Yes, sir,

but we don't have a homestead, and...

Can't use you.

Tough life, ain't it, sonny?

Hell, ain't much future in being a farmer

around these parts.

Ladies, this is the finest Chantilly lace

available anywhere.

- Chant/lly Mr. Birnbaum.

- Well, believe me, it's the best.

Excuse me, please.

Look around, take your time.

Drago, I got 1,000 Havana cigars

and 12 of those hats for you over there.

Them twelve big hats ain't gonna last long...

the way some folks have been dipping

into that redeye these days.

Good morning, G.W.

Good morning. I stole some stick candy.

Please help yourself. Come on in.

Davey, you can forget about

saddling up the horse. Come in here!

- Problem?

- Yes.

Well, if I were blacks,

I'd move the queen's bishop to king four.

Yeah, you might be right.

You know, I was just starting

to work this out when the letter came.

Letter?

- It was...

- What happened? Don't you...

- Morning, Mr. McLintock.

- Morning, Davey.

You being here saved me a trip.

That hat and suit of clothes

you picked out on my birthday...

well, instead of this cowboy hat...

I'd like to have this one,

if it's all right with you, sir.

That's all right with me, Davey.

Of course, that looks like the kind of a hat

a fellow would wear down Main street...

- to start a fight.

- I don't need a city hat for that.

All I got to do is walk down the street...

and some wiseacre will call me an Indian,

and just like that, the fight's on.

Davey, the letter. It's for you,

Rate this script:4.0 / 1 vote