Support Your Local Sheriff!

We are gathered here today to consign

the mortal remains of Millard Frymore.

Or whatever his name really was.

I ain't really got

a whole lot to say about Millard

because he only rode amongst us

two days ago,

and was promptly struck down

by whatever deadly disease

it was struck him down.

We can only hope

that whatever deadly disease it was

it wasn't particularly contagious.

And with that in mind, I suggest

we all bow our heads in devout prayer.

Heavenly Father, we hereby consign

to your tender mercies all that remains...

Get out!

All that remains of one Millard Frymore.

Origin unknown.

Cause of death unknown.

And of considerable concern to those

of us thrown into contact with him

during the last two days.

Millard was struck down in what

was evidently the prime of his life.

In fact, he was took from us so fast

he never even got a chance

to unpack his suitcase.

However, inasmuch as we were the last

to know poor Millard here on earth,

and in so far as we were all drawn

to this godforsaken country

in search of a common goal,

I'm certain you will agree with me...

- Hey, Pa... Pa...

- What is the matter with you?

- Take a look.

- Ain't you got no reverence for anything?

- Gold.

- What?

Take a look, it's gold.

I remind everyone we are here to

consign the remains of Millard Frymore.

- It's gold, Henry.

- Gold?

Down there in the grave.

- Let's get this coffin out and have a look.

- Oh, no, you don't!

Get out of my gold mine.

Get out of my gold mine.

- We're gonna be rich.

- Get out of my gold mine...

Gold! Gold! Gold!

It doesn't seem possible

that a town could get in this condition

in the short time it's been in existence.

Lynchings, gunfights,

and that drunken revelry going on

at Madame Orr's House 24 hours a day.

A decent woman

is not safe on these streets.

Oh, I think the women are safe enough

for the most part.

We only got a couple

that would be much interest to anyone.

Outside the dance-hall girls and they're

good at handling themselves in a pinch.

Or in a ticklish situation.

Well, now, this may be very funny

to the members of the town council.

We mine-owners haven't found anything

to laugh at since we started in business.

We don't think it's funny, Tom.

We just don't know what to do about it.

Maybe what we need is a new mayor

and a town council that does know.

What kinda talk is that? The only reason

I'm mayor and the others councilmen

is nobody else wanted the jobs.

Don't forget, Tom.

We're all mine-owners ourselves.

Do you enjoy giving 20 per cent of

everything you mine to the Danby family?

- Why would we enjoy it?

- All right, let's do something about it.

What? You all know the situation.

Us in Calendar.

There's Galena, where we ship our gold.

There's the Danby ranch in between the

two. The road runs through their property.

Then we build the road

around their property.

How? They own that whole valley.

If they don't get their 20 per cent, they

just hold up every stage and take all of it.

All right, but we've got to do something.

Even if it means bringing troops in here.

- Troops?

- Troops?

What troops? From where?

The nearest troops are 500 miles.

- Then we recruit our own.

- We can't recruit enough dishwashers.

How will we recruit troops?

Nobody wants to stop prospecting

long enough to take a bath.

It all happened so fast we ain't had

a chance to get organised yet.

- The Danbys are takin' advantage of it.

- There goes one of 'em now.

- Which one is he?

- Joe.

Out of the father and brothers,

he's second toughest.

- They all act like they own the place.

- The way things are now, they do.

It's gonna stay that way

until we find ourselves a sheriff

that doesn't turn tail and run

the minute someone takes a shot at him.

Whiskey.

All right, you all saw it.

And it was a fair fight.

He drew first.

So it was self-defence.

He drew first, sure as anything.

You couldn't call it anything

but self-defence.

It may have been a lot of things,

but self-defence it wasn't.

And he didn't draw first, you did.

- What do you mean by that?

- Oh, it's an old trick. You did it pretty well.

Not real well, but pretty well.

You feinted with your left shoulder

gettin' him to go for his gun

while you were going for yours

with your right hand.

It's an old Arizona trick, but I have

seen it used as far north as Montana.

- Are you callin' me a liar?

- You heard every word I said.

All I said was you feinted him into drawing

while you were going for your gun.

- So what?

- You beat that poor man to the draw.

He's dead and you're alive.

That's the whole idea of the game.

- What's your name?

- Jason McCullough.

- What's yours?

- Joe Danby.

- And you had better remember it.

- Oh, I'll remember it, Joe.

It's about all I'll do the rest of my life,

remember your name.

The bread's on the table in front of you.

Why, you!

Is this one of Emma's

tasty home-cooked meals?

- That's it, mister.

- They charge $3 for this, huh?

That's what they call inflation. Sometimes

it catches you right in between mouthfuls.

Is there really any gold in this town?

- How long did it take you to get that?

- Yesterday afternoon.

A good part of this morning.

Where could a man find a place to sleep?

If you mean a room, you can't. Down

at the end of the street, you get a cot.

- How much?

- $20. Eight-hour shift.

Say a man was willing to go to work to

get himself a stake. How'd he go about it?

- You don't want a job?

- No.

I figure the way prices are around here,

I'll go broke about 2.30 this afternoon.

We got a bulletin board with that

kinda stuff down at the assay office.

Thank you.

Hold it! Hold it!

OK, go ahead.

Fight!

Yee-hah!

- Get the hell out of my way.

- Heck, go around.

I told you get outta there.

What did I tell you?

Watch where you're grabbing.

- What about you?

- What about me?

- You wanna grab something?

- Everything looks too slippery.

- What does that mean?

- Nothing.

You look too clean to suit me.

Are you the man I talk to about...

- Wait your turn, mister.

...the job of sheriff?

- You interested in the job of sheriff?

- Well, maybe.

- How much does it pay?

- No sheriff lived long enough to find out.

Look, boys. Why don't you go outside

and watch the fight? The ladies too.

Very good fight out there.

You can watch it too, Sam.

OK, come on.

Let's get out. Get moving. Come on.

All right, let's go.

I'm Olly Perkins, the mayor here.

Jason McCullough.

Fred Johnson,

Henry Jackson, Tom Devery.

Original settlers. Fred and Henry

are members of the town council.

- I represent the mine-owners.

- Nice to meet you.

What that fella said a minute ago

ain't strictly true.

We've had three sheriffs the past

two months, but only two got killed.

- What about the other one?

- He quit, kinda sudden like.

I don't think

he had the right temperament.

You never have said

anything about the pay.

Well, for the right kinda man,

$150 a month.

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