Silverado Page #7

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LANGSTON:

Is that a fact?

EMMETT:

'Fraid not, Sheriff. These other

fellas started the ruckus.

Langston's attention focuses on Emmett and Paden.

LANGSTON:

There are three strangers in this

room, traveller, and these gents you

are accusing aren't them.

(to Mal, indicating

Emmett and Paden)

Are these your friends?

MAL:

(shakes his head "no")

I wanted a drink and a bed. I guess

I came to the wrong place.

LANGSTON:

(taking in the mess)

Came to the wrong town. I don't

tolerate this kind of thing. It's

hard on the peace, and it's hard on

the furniture. Now, knowing a bit

about Carter here, I'm going to let

you go without paying for the damages.

But go you will, and I mean now.

MAL:

Is there a place in town that takes...

my kind?

LANGSTON:

You misunderstand. I want you out of

town. In fact, I want you all the

way out of my jurisdiction.

MAL:

(seething)

That ain't right.

LANGSTON:

I decide what's right in this

jurisdiction. Now move.

Mal glares at Langston and, finally, moves. He takes his

rifle from the bar, then walks over, picks up his saddlebags,

and slings them over his shoulder. He is almost to the door

when he stops, turns, and walks slowly back to the bar. The

shot glass full of whiskey has miraculously survived the

fracas. Mal brings it to his lips and swallows with

satisfaction. He turns and goes out the front door. Langston

motions to Deputy Kern to follow and witness Mal's departure.

Langston turns and looks at Emmett and Paden as he slowly

uncocks his revolver and holsters it.

PROPRIETOR:

Who's going to pay for all this,

Sheriff?

LANGSTON:

Don't press your luck, Carter.

Langston moves to Emmett and Paden's table and pulls up a

chair. He lifts the last biscuit from a basket. He takes a

fastidious bite.

LANGSTON:

Now let's talk about you chaps.

PADEN:

We'd rather stay.

LANGSTON:

We'll see about that. I'm Sheriff

John Langston. As you may have

guessed, I am not from these parts.

PADEN:

You're kidding.

LANGSTON:

(ignoring that)

But the good citizens of Turley have

taken me in their embrace, and for

one simple reason. I maintain the

peace. So when strangers come to

town, I always ask them their

business. Have you come for the

hanging?

EMMETT:

("no")

I'm just meeting a guy here and moving

on. So far I haven't been able to

find him.

LANGSTON:

In my town, when you're looking for

someone, you ask me.

EMMETT:

All right. I'm looking for a young

fella, full of juice. About my size,

wears a fancy two-gun rig.

Langston takes a long time reacting to this information. Now

he slides his chair back a foot, giving his gun hand a little

more room.

LANGSTON:

I know where that gentleman is.

OMIT:

INT. CELLBLOCK - EVENING

A lean, young man is bouncing around his cell, playing hacky

sack, keeping a small, leather, bean bag from falling to the

floor by kicking it with his bare feet. This is JAKE.

Langston opens the door to the cellblock and speaks over his

shoulder to Emmett and Paden, who have removed their guns.

LANGSTON:

Now I want everyone to behave himself.

At the sight of Emmett, Jake's face lights up. And then he

does an extraordinary thing: with one long stride he is across

the cell and into the air; he hits the bars halfway up and

clings like a monkey. Paden reacts as if he is one.

JAKE:

Emmett! Am I glad to see you!

EMMETT:

(touching him)

Howdy, Jake. What's going on here?

JAKE:

You got me. This is a crazy town,

Emmett. I think we ought to get out

of here.

Jake lowers himself and darts about as he talks.

JAKE:

All I did was kiss a girl.

EMMETT:

(skeptical)

That's why they got you in jail?

JAKE:

Yeah, I kissed a girl and this guy

didn't like it and we had some words,

so I decided to get out of there.

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