Shane Page #3

I guess you don't hear very well,|sodbuster.

I told you, if you want to keep healthy,|stay out of here. Now, get going.

Look, pig-farmer. Get back with|the women and kids, where it's safe.

Don't push it, Calloway.

Did you hear me? I said get going.

Did you think you were gonna come|and drink with the men?

Set 'em up, bartender. Two whiskies.

You bought me a drink|last time I was in here.

Now I want to buy you one.

You ain't gonna drink that in here.

You guessed it.

Let me have him.

- Let him go.|- Let me have him.

Go get him, Chris.

Tear him apart!

Get that sodbuster.

- Hang one on him, Chris.|- Bust him.

Break his back.

This is bad, this is bad.

- I'm going in there.|- No, Stonewall, stay right here.

If we join in, we'll get run out.

- Go on!|- Go get him, Chris.

There ain't a marshal|within a hundred-mile ride.

Get after him, Chris.

Plough him under, Chris.

Beat his brains out!

Get him!

- Land that right, Chris.|- Knock him into that pigpen, Chris!

Dirty pig-farmer!

- Stop this!|- Go on, get at it.

Here, men, stop this!

Settle it outside.

- Looks like it's all over.|- We should get out of here.

- Maybe you'd like to draw straws.|- Hold on, young fella.

You may have a friend|you don't know you've got.

- I could use a man like you.|- I'm working for Starrett.

You don't belong on the end of a shovel.|Anything to stop you drawin' your time?

I like working for Starrett.

- Whatever he's paying, I'll double.|- It's no use.

- What are you looking for?|- Nothing.

- Pretty wife, Starrett's got.|- You dirty old man!

- People don't talk to me that way.|- I'm talking that way.

You had a chance. Nobody messes up|my boys and gets away with it.

We'll ride you out of this valley.

Gonna rough you up and ride you out|and you're gonna stay out.

- Shane, come on!|- Joey, get out of here.

But, Shane, there's too many.

You wouldn't want me to run away,|would you?

But there's too many, Shane.

Go on, son, please.

- Stop!|- I'll pay the damages.

- No more fighting.|- Keep outta this.

- This man's unarmed.|- It ain't a shooting.

Quit butting in.

I'll take him.

Stop it, men! Stop fighting!

Stop it, men.

Stop this!

Break his neck!

- Where's Joey?|- Pa, they're going to kill Shane!

- They're trying to kill him!|- Stay with your mother.

- Don't go in.|- Shane's in there.

What Ryker's got coming|ain't fit for a woman to see.

Don't go in there, Joe...

Beat his brains in!

Stop it!

Stop it!

Stop it! You fools have had enough of it.|You'll all get killed.

Starrett, you and Shane|back on out of here.

That's making some sense, Starrett.|You've won.

- Get out of here.|- Ryker ain't paying for this damage.

I'm paying for what's broke.

No, by Godfrey, we're paying|for what's broke, me and Shane!

Morgan, put one of the boys|on a good horse.

He's got a long trip,|all the way to Cheyenne.

I'm through fooling, Grafton.

From now on, when we fight with them,|the air's gonna be full of gunsmoke.

- I saw it all, Mother, every bit.|- It's no place for you, Joey.

No place for you either, Marian.

I was scared. Then Pa picked up|that man and slung him on the floor.

I didn't do much. It was all Shane.

- How are you feeling?|- Better.

You did, Joe.|It was ugly and you were both wonderful.

When that chair came down on you,|Shane, I thought you were a goner.

It was an easy chair, Joey.

I bet you two could lick anyone.

Well, one thing's for sure,|Ryker's gonna think twice.

- Don't talk about Ryker any more now.|- I wish we could forget him.

- This turpentine'll hurt.|- He wouldn't say nothing.

No matter how much it hurt.|Would you, Shane?

I'm afraid I would, Joey,|if it hurt bad enough.

- It stings like anything.|- Joey, go on to bed.

It does smart, I know.

- Ouch!|- Gosh!

- Joey, for the last time, go to bed.|- Yeah, me, too.

Come on, son.

- Will you kiss me goodnight, Mother?|- All right.

Your head...|Your head needs a bandage.

It's good enough, Marian, it's fine.|Thanks very much.

- You wanna know something, Mother?|- What is it?

- What is it, Joey?|- Mother...

- I just love Shane.|- Do you?

I love him almost as much as I love Pa.

That's all right, isn't it?

- He's a fine man.|- He's so good.

Don't you like him, Mother?

Yes, I like him, too, Joey.

Goodnight, Joey.

What's the matter, honey?

Joe...

Hold me.

Don't say anything. Just hold me tight.

- 'Night, Ma!|- Goodnight, Joey.

- 'Night, Pa!|- 'Night, son.

'Night, Shane!

Where's Ryker?

He's getting a little sleep.

- He sent for me.|- Sit down for a minute.

We're having a celebration today.

- Where's the coffee?|- I'll put it right on.

- What's going on here?|- Plenty.

- Going somewhere?|- Looks that way, don't it?

Don't let 'em bluff you, Ernie.

Bluff, huh?

See that?|They killed my sow last night.

Kept shooting|and yelling what they'd do next.

Woke up the kids and|scared the missus half to death.

- We're gonna put a stop to that.|- I said I'd stay for one more hand.

Well, this is it. I had enough of Ryker.

Here they come again!

Right through my ploughed ground.

What do you think of that,|Stonewall Torrey?

Starrett and the rest of us|are gonna take the juice out of 'em,

one of these days.

Anyhow, I'm going to Grafton's|to get a bottle.

- Show 'em it's Independence Day.|- Ma, you getting ready?

- Good luck.|- Good luck for you, too, Stonewall.

Can't see a pig in sight!

I don't see none,|but I sure can smell 'em.

They cut Mr Wright's fence|and Mr Shipstead's, too.

They did?

Shane, what would you do|if you caught them cutting our fence?

I'd ask them|to please go around by the gate.

Oh, Shane!

- Come on, I'll race you to the barn.|- It's a go!

Why don't you ever wear|your six-shooter, Shane?

I guess I don't see|as many bad men as you do.

Shane.

- You want me to tell you something?|- If you want to.

I saw your gun in there, one day.

- I took a look at it.|- Oh?

- Are you mad?|- No, I guess not.

But if I were you,|I'd leave a thing like this alone.

- I wrapped it up in the blanket again.|- That's a good boy.

Could I see it again?

You promised you'd show me|how to shoot.

Please!

All right, Joey. Come on.

Get 'em up!

We've got some learning to do!|Come on.

You stand right here.

All right, put your arms|down to your side.

Your holster's too low.|Never have your holster at arm's length.

Let's fix this.

You always have it here, with the grip|between the elbow and the wrist.

So when your hand comes up,

the gun clears the holster|without coming up too high, see?

Now you try it, real fast and straight.|That's it.

- Gosh! Is that what real gunfighters do?|- No, Joey.

Most of them have tricks of their own.

One, for instance,|likes a shoulder holster.

Another one puts it|in the belt of his pants.

And some like two guns.|But one's all you need if you can use it...

...after 15 paces. No good for putting|a bullet where you want it.

Which is the best way?

What I'm telling you is as good as any,|better than most.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes