My Darling Clementine

1

Hya! Hya!

Hya! Hya! Hya! Come on, dogie!

Whoa...

Texas?

Chihuahua steers.

- Howdy.

- Howdy.

My name's Clanton. This is my

boy, Ike. My oldest boy.

Any sweet water up beyond?

Yeah. Two, three miles

straight up the trail.

- Cattle look pretty scrawny.

- Yeah.

Me and my brothers, we're

trailing them on to California.

If you ain't committed to no shipper,

I'll take them off your hands.

Not interested.

Make you a good offer. Pay you

in silver, three dollars a head.

Nope.

- Might raise you to five dollars silver.

- Paid more than that in Mexico.

They'll be a sorry-looking lot

when you get to California.

They'll feed out when we

get to grass country.

Sure is rough-looking country.

Ain't no cow country. Mighty

different where I come from.

- What do they call this place?

- Just over the rise, big town...

- ...called Tombstone. Fine town.

- Tombstone?

Yeah, I heard of it.

Well, me and my brothers...

might ride in there tonight. Get

ourselves a shave, glass of beer.

You'd enjoy yourself. Wide awake,

wide-open town, Tombstone.

- Get anything you want there.

- Thank you.

James, this is mighty fine chow.

One of these days you're gonna

be as good a cook as Ma.

- I'm learning and trying.

- That's what I'm telling him.

Corey Sue ain't marrying him because

he's pretty. Because he's a good cook.

There goes that chingadera again.

That sure is a mighty

pretty piece of brass.

Brass? That's solid silver.

Twenty-five American dollars' worth of

solid silver, ain't it, brother Wyatt?

It sure is, James.

Don't let him fool you.

Gonna look mighty pretty in

them curls of Corey Sue's.

Ain't that the truth now.

Let's mount up. If we're going

to town, let's get going.

Twenty-five dollars gold.

By gollies, you sure got a bargain.

- Whoa, girl! Whoa!

- So long, James.

So long, James.

So long, Wyatt. Morgan.

So long, Virgil.

There it is. Tombstone.

Let's go.

Good evening, gentlemen. Welcome

to the Bon Ton Tonsorial Parlor.

- Barbershop?

- Well, if you want to call it that.

What can I do for you?

- Shave.

- Hair cut?

- Shave.

- We give baths too.

Shave.

I don't know how to work it

so good. Only had it a week.

Come all the way from Chicago.

- Say, you fellows miners?

- No.

- Prospectors?

- We're cattlemen...

just passing through here.

Shave, please.

Hey!

Hey, barber!

What kind of a town is this?

Barber!

Luke, you know your duty. You and

your marshals go and get him out.

That's Indian Charlie in there, drunk.

I ain't committing suicide on myself.

- Me neither.

- I ain't going in there.

What kind of a town is this anyway?

Excuse me, ma'am.

A man can't get a shave without

getting his head blown off.

You're the marshal. Get

that drunk Indian.

- Why don't you?

- They ain't paying me for it.

And they ain't paying

me enough either.

Young man, you be careful!

It's all right, ladies.

I don't blame old Luke.

I wouldn't go in there either.

What kind of a town is this anyway,

selling liquor to Indians?

Ow.

Put a knot on his head

bigger than a turkey's egg.

Indian, get out of

town and stay out.

How'd you like to stay

on here, as marshal?

Nope. Barber!

- 200 a month goes with this badge.

- Not interested.

I'm just passing through trying

to get a relaxing shave.

- We'll make it 250.

- Not interested.

Hey, Mr. Bon Ton!

- Shave, please.

- We want to thank you, Mr...?

- Earp. Wyatt Earp.

- What?

You're not the marshal

from Dodge City?

Ex-marshal.

The cattle's gone!

James!

James!

- Mayor, is that marshaling job still open?

- It is.

- I'll take it.

- It's yours.

Providing my brothers

are my deputies.

- When do you want to start?

- Now.

- Who runs the gambling around here?

- Doc Holliday, mostly.

- Who runs the cattle?

- The Clantons.

Old man Clanton and his four sons.

Good evening, Mr. Clanton.

Good evening.

The fellow with the

trail herd, remember?

Oh, sure, I remember you.

You was right. I didn't

get very far with them.

They was rustled this evening.

That so?

Well, that's too bad.

Guess you ain't heading

for California, huh?

No. I figured on

sticking around a while.

Got myself a job.

- Cowpunching?

- Marshaling.

Marshaling? In Tombstone?

Well! Good luck to you, Mr...?

Earp. Wyatt Earp.

1864, 1882.

Eighteen years.

Didn't get much of a

chance, did you, James?

I wrote to Pa and Corey Sue. They're

gonna be all busted up over it.

Corey Sue's young. But Pa,

guess he'll never get over it.

I'll be coming out to see you regular,

James. So will Morg and Virg.

We're gonna be around

here for a while.

Can't tell. Maybe when

we leave this country...

young kids like you will be

able to grow up and live safe.

- What'd you find?

- I followed their trail...

from Clanton country to the river.

They're moving cattle, all right.

Well, get yourself some sleep. There's

coffee on the stove and some beans.

Morg's riding shotgun to Tucson.

Say, maybe I'd better ask around

the banks while I'm down there.

They're too smart for that.

Chihuahua, sing us the one

about the old blind mule.

Hey, Mac. I hear Doc's

coming back tonight.

Well, maybe he is and maybe

he ain't. I ain't heard.

Well, do you know where he's been?

Tucson. Over the border.

Who knows where Doc goes?

I love poker.

Yes, sir, I really love poker.

Every hand a different problem.

I've got to do a

little figuring here.

What would I do if I was in

your boots, Mr. Gambler?

You drew three cards

and I stood pat...

and yet you raised me.

Now the question is,

what should I do?

Yeah, mighty interesting game,

poker. A game of chance.

Listen, miss, I admire poker,

but you're increasing the odds.

- I catch you doing that again, I'll run...

- Listen, Mr. Tin Star Marshal.

This is Doc Holliday's town,

and when he comes back...

Sorry, but I don't like

eight-handed poker deals.

- Mr. Marshal, you don't think that I...

- Oh, no.

- Well, where were we?

- He just raised you, marshal.

Oh, yeah.

Well, seeing as you know

I got three of a kind...

I guess I'll...

How are you, Doc?

Have a good trip?

Doc Holliday.

Nice-looking fella.

Don't let's have trouble.

I told you to get out

of town and stay out.

- Oh, Doc, I'll cut you in on the game...

- I told you to get out of town.

Check me in, will you?

That door's for

ladies and gentlemen.

Go on with your game, gentlemen.

Well, you can cash me in. It's

getting late. I'll see you all later.

This sure is a hard town for a fella

to have a quiet game of poker in.

- Howdy.

- Good evening.

- I'm...

- Wyatt Earp. I know.

I know all about you and

your reason for being here.

I've heard a lot

about you too, Doc.

You left your mark around in

Deadwood, Denver and places.

In fact, a man could almost follow your

trail going from graveyard to graveyard.

There's one here too.

The biggest graveyard

west of the Rockies.

Marshals and I usually get along better

when we understand that right away.

- Get your meaning, Doc.

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