McLintock! Page #4

- Evening, G.W.

- Jake.

- Wrong move.

- What?

Chess problem. Wueen's in danger.

I suppose you can do that.

Camille, you're on your own.

Mrs. McLintock.

I'm Camille, Camille Reedbottom.

I'm learning the game of chess.

Thought it would give me something

to pass the time.

See, I have nothing to do all day long.

I just remembered something.

Katherine, I didn't hear you come in.

Mr. McLintock,

I told you that I wanted to talk to you.

Not now.

Could I get you a glass of sherry, Katherine?

Thank you, Mr. Birnbaum, I could use one.

I came into town behind a runaway team.

Drago never could handle horses.

It was that young man

whose mother pretends to be your cook.

- Katherine, your wine.

- Thank you, Mr. Birnbaum.

Now, Mr. McLintock,

we have an awful lot to talk over.

First thing I learned about Indian fighting

was to wait for daylight.

What does our conversation

got to do with Indian fighting?

Indian fighting is good experience

for our kind of conversations.

It'll wait, Katherine.

Evening, Sheriff, Mr. McLintock.

We had quite a ride out here.

- I finally got that team settled down.

- It's your move.

- No, it's your move. I just cancelled.

- Now, look here.

You're not going to sit here all night long

and play chess...

when the matter of our daughter

remains unsettled.

I am going to remain here and play chess,

and the matter of our daughter is settled.

- She stays.

- Such stubbornness.

Katherine, your hair.

It is a mess after that awful ride.

No, it's just that

I haven't seen you for a long time...

and it seems to me,

the last time I saw you...

your hair was a little darker, no?

It's a funny thing,

the tricks a man's memory will play.

Mr. Birnbaum, I think that you've

completely lost your mind.

- You have done something to your hair.

- I have not!

If I had, it'd be none of your business.

Certainly not going to put myself

in the place of those Blondine trollops...

that you seem to prefer.

- Take it.

- Oh.

- Fill it.

- Oh.

Good morning.

- You fellows still at it? All night?

- A McLintock never quits.

But a Birnbaum has to.

Besides, the game is over. You got me.

No, Mr. Birnbaum,

you still got a good game.

You play chess?

Please, take over.

- Pretty good?

- Fair.

It looks like I won't have to come into town

always to get a game.

Remember, I'm a bad loser.

- It's your move.

- Yes, sir.

Good morning.

Good morning.

It's morning already.

Cup of coffee?

Yes, thanks, Jake.

You're welcome, Katherine.

- Got any cream?

- Canned cows' milk.

That'll do.

Good old condensed milk.

That reminds me...

I was cleaning out my desk the other day...

and I found something

I wanted to return to you.

Here it is.

It's a medal, remember?

From the President

of the United States of America...

to First Sergeant Michael Patrick Gilhooly...

for bravery above and beyond

the call of duty.

It's your papa.

Reminds me of the first time I ever saw you.

It was over 17 years ago.

You walked into my store, not much bigger

than the bundle you were carrying.

And in the bundle

was the most beautiful baby I ever saw.

And was she hungry.

You walked all the way

from Superstition Creek...

just to trade me that medal

for a case of canned milk.

G.W. Was off somewhere, as usual...

fighting Indians.

Sheriff, Sheriff Lord!

Have you seen the Sheriff?

Kind of early for him. Did you try his house?

Why didn't I think of that?

Looks like Birnbaum's is open.

Maybe somebody in here will know.

So there you are, Sheriff.

I told you, you were headed for trouble.

Trouble?

I wanna know by whose authority

you let those Indians stay in town.

Those savages are wards of the government,

and I am the representative...

I told Sheriff Lord that he could put them up

down by the clay slide.

Because the town's named after him,

he thinks he owns it.

You check the books

in the recorder's office...

and you'll find I do own a fair piece of it.

Agard, if you knew anything about Indians...

you'd know that they're doing

their level best...

to put up with

our so-called benevolent patronage...

in spite of the nincompoops

that have been put in charge of it.

Those Indians need my permission

to leave the reservation.

Those Chiefs been giving orders

all their lives.

It's pretty hard for them to understand...

that they have to hold up their hand

like a schoolboy in a classroom.

The law is very clear.

I told you

you'd get no satisfaction from these people.

- We'll get the girl back.

- Girl?

The girl the Indians kidnapped,

but don't worry.

I armed the settlers and set them

to rounding up those red devils.

- What is this about a girl?

- Millie Jones. One of the settler's daughters.

- The Indians kidnapped her.

- That's ridiculous.

And you turned loose a lot of farmers

with shotguns?

- I certainly did.

- You're insane. Let's go, Sheriff.

- Mr. Douglas.

- Mrs. McLintock.

Much as I hate to agree with G.W.

About anything...

you haven't changed a bit.

You're still an hysterical fool.

- Coming to town, I got worried.

- What about?

I thought maybe Katy shot you.

Not yet, Drago, but it took restraint.

Wait a minute, we better take Agard along...

not that he'll be much help.

Drago, help him on the horse.

Just a minute.

- I'll drive.

- Yes, ma'am.

- Agard, what are you doing?

- Scratch him, Agard!

Agard, this is serious. Stay with him, Agard.

Stay with him!

Agard, will you stop showing off

and get in this buggy?

Mercy.

Mercy.

That horse is a little green.

Let's go.

Just where do you think you're going?

Don't use that range-boss tone of voice

with me.

Potter!

Headed for Mr. Pourboire's mine.

Mount up some riders.

Right, Boss. You heard the man.

I don't like it, Mr. McLintock.

I don't like it one bit.

- What don't you like?

- They're planning to hang an Indian.

Sheriff, real funny. Where's the whiskey?

Hold it.

No so fast, Mr. Boss-of-the-Whole-Country...

unless you want to wear a big hole

in your middle.

How long is G.W. Going to let

that Chee-Chalker push him around?

That Chee-Chalker has a sawed-off shotgun.

How do you know

she didn't wander off someplace...

- or meet some fellow or something?

- What are you saying?

That I didn't raise my girl right?

That she'd wander off all night

with some man?

There's a lot of things

I'm not saying to you, mister...

while you've got a sawed-off shotgun

in my middle.

But how do you know this Indian

had anything to do with it?

She's gone, ain't she? She's gone.

Pa, I'm over here.

Pa!

- Been looking for me, Pa?

- Where you been, girl?

Young Ben took me for a sunrise ride,

and the horse wandered away.

- You come down off of there.

- But, Pa.

She's telling the truth, Mr. McLintock.

We weren't doing nothing.

That's not important right now.

The important thing is

that you don't draw that hogleg...

or this'll be worse

than Dodge City on Saturday night.

You get on back to the wagon,

I'll attend to you later.

Rate this script:4.0 / 1 vote