She Wore a Yellow Ribbon Page #3

that whipped General Custer...

...and drove out

the rest of them Yankees.

Yeah, that's what I'd tell them.

Of course, I'm just guessing,

you understand, captain.

Of course, I'm just

guessing too, sergeant.

But if I was an Indian agent,

maybe named Mr. Rynders...

...and I'd met a couple of men

who might be gunrunners...

...l'm guessing I'd be mighty close

to Red Shirt's council fire...

...ready to do a land-office business

in repeating rifles.

- Lf that's the case, why don't we...?

- Miss Dandridge and her chaperone.

IKeep it up.

That's all I ask, just keep it up!

Sergeant, make for the Paradise River.

Pick up our patrol there.

Head to Sudro's Wells.

Hold the stagecoach for the ladies.

Tell them I've been delayed!

Take the column, Mr. Cohill!

Ladies, to the rear!

Mr. Cohill!

First two sets of fours, forward!

Take the column, Mr. Cohill.

It's Quayne's patrol. It's Quayne's

patrol, men. Hold your fire!

Sound recall.

Over here!

Come this way!

Grab him! Hurry, grab him!

All right, Mike?

All right, my boy?

Commence firing, men!

Shoot over their heads!

Drive them back.

Handle him easy, men.

Corporal Quayne, sir.

Reporting with Paradise River Patrol.

Arapahos jumped us.

It was Red Shirt himself!

The black-hearted...

Shut up, McCarthy!

Quiet, I'm making this report!

Easy, Mike, easy.

They had us ringed.

At night, we got away.

Made it to the relief point,

but you weren't there, sir.

I wanted to be there, corporal.

Proceed.

They flushed us at dawn, sir,

and I got this.

A good, clear report.

It'll show on your record when

you come up for that extra stripe.

Thank you, sir.

Sound for the wagon.

Easy, fella.

Good work, McCarthy.

Good work, men!

We'll get you a little whiskey,

Quayne! You'll be all right.

Doctor! Quayne? How is he?

Cheyennes, Laddy.

Same ones that killed them Yankee

soldiers with General Custer.

Easy, boy. Let's go!

The arrowhead's right over

Quayne's heart. It's got to come out.

It's a risky operation at best.

Can you halt?

You know I can't!

For 30 minutes.

Twenty minutes, for a man's life?

I can't give you five minutes,

not if he was my son.

He's a soldier.

He'll have to take a risk.

He knows that.

I'm the one that's begging.

I'll give you all I can.

Troop, halt! Dismount, lead!

Thank you, Nathan.

Hold your step in the ranks!

I'm ready. As slow as you can.

- Here, Mike, another slug.

- After you, ma'am, if you please.

All right, down it goes.

Blasphemy and ribaldry

at a time like this!

Breathe deep, Mike.

Again.

Easy, Mike. Easy.

- Call him.

- Captain Brittles!

Captain Brittles!

- Here it is. I had to...

- Blast the details, how is he?

I think I can safely say

he'll live to make sergeant.

Troop, halt!

Pass the word, Quayne's doing fine!

Prepare to mount!

Mount!

Forward!

Thanks, soldier.

I'm happy about Quayne.

Why? He's just another dogface

soldier in dirty-shirt blue.

What's it to you if he lives or die?

Did you ever dance with him?

Or speak to him?

Did you ever even look at him?

No, of course you didn't.

No officer's bars, not a gentleman.

I'm finding that lieutenant's bars

are no guarantee of a gentleman.

You're glad about Quayne.

It puts the happy ending to the story

you'll take back to your tea parties.

Now you've seen a real Indian fight,

a man with an arrow in his chest.

- Mr. Cohill...

- That should make your tour perfect!

Mrs. Allshard's having a rough time

back there, Miss Dandridge.

- Would you spell her for a while?

- Certainly, captain. And thank you.

Mr. Cohill, did anyone ever take down

your britches and tan your hide?

No, sir. That is, yes, sir.

My father, sir, with a strap.

Well, I'm just old enough to be

your father, bub. Take the point!

They'll make a fine, boisterous couple

when they're married.

Forward, trot!

Women in the rear!

- "Women to the rear." Doesn't he...?

- Shut your gob! You talk too much.

Go back to the rear, darling,

and I'll give you a big kiss.

- You'd better go.

- I'd hate to be kiss...

Shut up!

First two sets forward! Gallop!

- I'm glad to see you.

- Sorry to be late, Tyree. Report.

Cheyenne Dog party,

about 30 Arapahos with them.

Well, that blows the lid, doesn't it?

Ma and Pa Sudro, sir.

- Did the children see it?

- No, they were hiding in the house.

Tyree, it's about time I did retire.

Sir? Would you take a look

at Trooper Smith?

Don't bother about me, captain.

Trust you'll forgive my presumption.

I'd like to commend this boy

for how he handled his action.

- In the best tradition of the cavalry.

- I take that very kindly, sir.

Captain Tyree.

- Captain Tyree!

- Speak to him.

Thank you. Yes, sir!

Sir! Sir!

I'm afraid he can't hear you, captain.

Why, Palmer. Why, Carey Sue!

Do you remember me?

I'm Mrs. Soldier.

You came over and visited me at

the fort. We had a party, remember?

- See to your troop, Mr. Cohill!

- Yes, sir.

- Mr. Pennell, picket lines!

- Yes, sir.

You don't have to say it, captain.

I know all this is because of me.

Because I wanted to see the West.

Because I wasn't Army enough

to stay the winter.

You're not quite Army yet, miss.

Never apologize, it's a weakness.

This was your last patrol.

I'm to blame.

Only the man who commands can

be blamed. It rests on me.

Mission, failure!

Well, we missed the stage,

Miss Dandridge.

Well, that's the best I can do.

I ran out of red flannel petticoats.

- That's kind of you.

- Sure appreciate it.

- We thank you kindly.

- I'm proud to do it.

"I am the resurrection

and the life, sayeth the Lord.

He that believeth in me, though he

were dead, yet shall he live.

And whoso believeth in me

shall never die.

I know my redeemer liveth...

...and that he shall stand

at the latter day upon the earth."

I commend to your keeping, sir...

...the souls of John Sudro

and his wife, Martha.

I also commend to your keeping

the soul of Rome Clay...

...late brigadier general,

Confederate States Army.

IKnown to his comrades here, sir...

...as Trooper John Smith,

United States Cavalry.

A gallant soldier

and a Christian gentleman.

Ready. Aim. Fire!

Aim! Fire!

Aim! Fire!

Order! Time.

- With your permission, sir?

- Granted.

- Bugler.

- Thank you, sir.

We thank you, sir!

I wouldn't go any further

if I were you.

You're almost across

the footlights now.

Probably a hundred hostiles out there.

Watching every move you're making.

Think that's a whippoorwill?

Come on, Olivia, let's go back.

I can walk back alone, thank you.

Olivia.

The old man says, "Don't ever

apologize. It's a sign of weakness."

But I'm sorry for everything

I've said and done.

- Honey, I love you...

- Flint, let's get it over with!

Are you crazy?

You've been jealous since

she wore the yellow ribbon.

Button up that shirt!

Sneer all you want,

but keep your paws off my girl.

All right, I'll accommodate you.

- Ross, don't. This isn't...

- I quite agree!

Button your shirt, Mr. Pennell!

I thought better of you.

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