The Comancheros Page #5

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that aren't as welcome as us.

- We'll be ready.

- Oh, uh...

Not until my friend here has

tasted some real Texas cooking.

I hope I can live up to your bragging.

# Frre Jacques, frre Jacques

# Dormez-vous?

# Dormez-vous?

# Sonnez les matines

# Sonnez les matines

# Ding dang dong

# Ding dang dong

Listen, Mommy. We're singing in French.

Go get Mother the silver

teapot that Uncle Jake gave us.

All right, Mommy.

# Frre Jacques...

- Bessie sings well.

- She gets that from her father, I guess.

He had a fine voice.

You said your husband was dead

four years. Was it Indians?

No. He was killed. The

battle of San Jacinto.

When Texas won its independence?

The same shell burst hit my

husband and Jake and Sam Houston.

- They were all standing together.

- President Sam Houston?

No, he wasn't president then.

That was before we were a republic.

Then Jake brought my

husband's body home.

He made us move away from the

frontier and take this place.

Your Bessie's named after Jake's wife.

We grew up together. Everybody was

so surprised when she married Jake.

They were so different. He's so big

and tough - at least on the outside.

And she was so tiny and so gentle.

But one never knows about those things.

They got along just fine.

Well, I better go

inspect Bessie's progress.

- Captain Jake?

- Yeah?

Can you give me one good reason

why you don't marry that woman?

Why don't you mind your own business?

I haven't got one good reason...

that'd make sense to you.

Every time I quit to get married,

that miserable, low-down silver-tongued

Houston starts bending my ear

about how Texas needs

every man and every gun,

what with this Comanche

and renegade trouble.

But duty and patriotism

doesn't make sense to you.

- You think I'm simple-minded. -

Yes, I do think you're simple-minded.

Well, don't make a point of saying that

too often. And once more'll be too often.

- But I envy you.

- You what?

Two women in one man's lifetime.

Yeah, I really do envy you.

I guess you're right.

I'm God-given lucky.

It really happened to me.

At least I think it

really happened to me.

I suppose I can't be too sure

about it cos I just met the girl.

Well, it doesn't go by the calendar.

It either is or it isn't. Time

doesn't have much to do with it.

Yeah? Then it happened to me.

- Why'd you let her get away?

- Because a big ugly character with a star

snapped some handcuffs

on me and dragged me away.

- The woman at the boat?

- Yeah.

Well, I'm sorry, Monsewer. Real sorry.

Captain Jake, I believe you.

I actually believe that

you're really sincerely sorry.

You've got a lot of Cupid in you

but, I must admit, Cupid

picked a strange place to hide.

Monsewer, you may not

live long enough to hang.

Your brougham awaits.

You go down and take care of the horses.

Remember I'm watching.

Ya!

- Take care of the team, will ya, Lem?

- Yes, sir.

Linda, this is a surprise.

- Hello, Jake.

- Hello, Mrs Breen.

- Looks like we'll be on your hands awhile.

- My, Bessie, how you have grown.

- Where's the judge?

- In his office with some rangers.

You better go in and get located.

We'll take care of this stuff later.

Think this friend of

yours will be of much help?

I wouldn't hold out

too much hope, Monsewer.

My conscience'll be clear. I'll have done

all I could to keep you from gettin' hung.

Oh, great. As I drop through the trap,

my last thought'll be "Well,

big Jake did all he could."

- Evenin', Jake.

- Judge.

- This is Monsewer Paul Regret.

- How do you do?

I'm Thadeus Jackson Breen.

Judge of the Texas Circuit Court.

Most say - except them

that's unfair-minded -

that I'm the finest legal

mind in the entire Southwest.

So you can have faith

in your lawyer, son.

- How much money you got?

- I don't have any.

I begin to doubt your

chances against the law.

Judge, you're doing

this one for nothing.

A workman is worthy of his hire.

Sure, but suppose these

rangers start talking?

About where a certain Judge was during a

ranger raid on a certain

section of this town.

- I was advising a client.

- And a pretty one she was, too, Judge.

Seemed to be hangin'

on every word you said.

See, Regret? We don't aim to just stand

by and see a fellow fighting man go down.

Not without doing everything

that we can for him.

- I don't understand. - Major

here's told me what your troubles are.

I've thought it over in the light of my 40

years' experience in legal jurisprudence,

and I've come to the positive conclusion

that there ain't no way to

do this legal and honest.

But, being good, sensible Texans,

we'll do her illegal and dishonest.

All the boys here in the room have

agreed to sign a paper I've prepared.

We're gonna all commit perjury. That's

legal language for a

plain dumb-blasted lie.

Every man in this room's gonna swear that

you are a member of the Texas Rangers,

and have been for the

last couple of years.

Ain't no possible chance you

killed nobody in Louisiana.

Even Sam Houston himself wouldn't go

up against the word of a dozen rangers.

So, my boy, you are a member of the finest

underpaid organisation of men in the world.

- I don't know what to say. - It's

better than gettin' your neck stretched.

Well, thanks, men. It isn't only modesty

that makes me doubt

I'll make a good ranger.

If I had some money, I'd buy

you something to celebrate with.

Credit can be arranged.

My brother's saloon.

Sure!

Honest Ben Breen.

- Jake.

- Yeah?

- Tobe insists he's the third man.

- Oh.

- I was born and raised in the Bend

Country. - You're only 18 years old.

At 18, you were the only

white man south of the Pecos.

You told us till we were sick and tired of

hearing how you settled up Pecos Country.

We get to be bores as

we get older. He'll do.

Now, Tobe, keep this wagon

in sight at all times.

- Let us know you're around.

- Don't worry.

I appreciate your volunteering,

Regret. Shows mighty fine spirit.

Good luck, men.

Did I volunteer for something?

You weren't handy. I knew you'd

want me to speak up for you.

Jake, I often wonder what

I ever did to deserve you.

Yee-ha!

I've often had every penny

I own on the turn of a card,

but never my life on

a bundle of feathers.

- You claim to be a gambler, don't you?

- This may cure me permanently.

Our guardian angel's still on the job.

Why the mystery with the frying pan, sir?

Why does he have to stay out of sight -

alone in the middle of 1,000

miles of this ugly Texas country.

Don't you bet on that, gambler.

An Indian speciality is not being seen.

Kick out the fire.

Cutter.

Put it away. They're tame.

- Tame? Tame Indians?

- Tame as dishwater.

Well, I think we can afford one cigar.

Huh?

Oh, no. No whisky.

Tame Indians! How do

you tell the difference?

How do you know these

from the wild ones?

It's pretty hard to

explain to a city fella.

But you take like that

snake there at your feet.

Don't shoot him, he's a gopher snake.

He's a friend. He eats mice and rats.

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