The Furies Page #2

- The what?

The squatters constitute a cloud

on the title ofThe Furies.

As a condition of making the loan,

the Anaheim Bank...

will require the removal

of the squatters from the premises.

Pure legal mulch, Daughter.

It only means the squatters...

gotta be booted offThe Furies,

and so we gotta start bootir.

- No, you don't. Not the Herreras.

- You tellir me what to do?

- The pueblecitos, all right, but the Herreras stay.

- Mind your tongue.

I want your word on that, T.C.

That's one thing I want your word on.

Can't I never get the best of you? Never?

- Never.

Ah, you're a she-fox.

You got The Furies in you, all right.

You have my word on the Herreras.

Sign the mortgage.

It's fiit and proper.

- May I read it fiirst?

- Sign it.

Certainly, Father.

I suppose you'll use part of the money

to pay off some of your T.C.s.

- Why, you muleheaded, bone-eared -

- To pay off what?

What are these T.C. S

which are to be paid off?

Well, you see, uh, the folks hereabouts

don't get to see much hard money...

so I had these got up

for 'em to use for money.

My word's behind 'em,

and my word's enough for the folks.

Call 'em T.C.s.

Folks should like 'em, too,

and why not?

I give 'em better paper

than they use in Washington.

And my motto is

amicus humani generis -

"friend of the human race" -

which is six more letters of Latin

than e pluribus unum.

And to boot I give 'em art.

Picture of a lulu of a girl riding a bull.

Fine fiigure, ain't she?

How many of these I.O.U. S of yours

are still outstanding?

- How much do you owe?

- Piddlir amount. Piddlir amount.

Makes a complication.

I'd better bring this situation

to Mr. Anaheim's attention.

Get out.

You and bobtail talk ofT.C.s.

- If I've inconvenienced you -

- Get out!

Good night, Father.

So you, uh, say you'll have to

see Old Anaheim.

That's fiine. You trek on back to San Francisco

and palaver it out with the old red-eye.

Of course, you understand.

I understand.

Yeah. Duty- and honor-bound and such.

Yeah. Matter of fact,

I'll trek back with ya.

That'll be fiine, sir.

Matter of fact,

I'll take Chiquita along.

- What?

- They say travel's improving.

Uh, Mrs. Reynolds, your wife, might get

a real pleasure out of, uh, meeting Chiquita.

Uh, might help to improve

Chiquita considerable.

In view of the small amount

outstanding, I -

I don't think it'll be necessary

to mention the T.C. S to Mr. Anaheim.

Reynolds, it's always a real pleasure

to do business with a gentleman.

Uh, there'll be a conveyance for you

at the railroad at sunup.

Ah, that Clay.

He's always laughing at us, isn't he?

Clay's marryir Carol Ann Weadick.

She'll bring him Bar Double X when her pa dies.

Ah, it's lucky for Clay,

'cause I'll give him no part ofThe Furies.

- And that takes care of Clay.

- For a fact.

And I got to admit I'm none too catty

at runnir The Furies myself.

Oh, I know I was good

at puttir it together.

Startir from scratch, hookir one piece

of land onto another, but...

this money talk with puny moneymen.

- Runnir The Furies ain't for me.

- Which takes care of you.

- Which leaves who to run The Furies?

- Which leaves me.

Can you run it?

Wouldrt speak well for me if I couldn't.

It's what you've trained me for, isn't it?

- Only one thing can waddle it up.

- What's that?

- The man you take to husband.

- My husband will be my choice, not yours.

Maybe so. Maybe no.

See here. Here's half the money I got

from Anaheim's Bank- $50,000.

- Good sum.

- It's yours for a dowry if you pick a man I could favor.

One I could sit down to table with

and not dislodge my chow.

You sound like you'd rather I never married.

You won't have it easy fiindir a man.

I've spoiled most of'em for ya.

You'd want a man like me, who'd

knuckle under to no one - least of all you.

You think you're top man

on God's green earth, don't you?

- You know anyone better?

- No, but I'll keep looking...

and when I fiind him, I'll marry him,

and I won't care if it does put you off your feed.

- "Burnett."

- I'll take that.

Who's Burnett?

No matter.

A man gets lonely, Daughter.

I'll ask no more questions.

Scratch my sixth lumbar vertebra.

Come on, slue-foot!

- Beat you here again.

Ah, it's been a long time

since we raced here.

I always did get here fiirst, didn't I?

You always did get here fiirst, didn't you?

Juan Herrera, you let me win.

You always did - every time.

The one time I didn't let you...

- you scratched blood.

It's The Furies brand on you, all right.

No, Vance.

Not The Furies.

- Yours.

- No difference.

No?

What is it, Juan?

You've been on touch all day.

Look.

Wherever you see,

as far as you can see, it is The Furies.

Your father's.

He has space for thousands of cattle...

for hundreds of horses.

But has he space for a few Herreras?

It's his land. He can have on it

whoever he wants.

If he doesn't want you Herreras on it,

that's his say-so.

I was afraid that someday

you were going to say that.

All right. I've said it.

I don't take to anyone

talking like that about T.C.

I don't take to it. Even if we did grow up

together. Even if you are my friend.

One I can talk to.

One who understands.

And I don't take to your going.

Till our eyes next meet.

Till then.

Time?

The kiss of a good friend.

- Hasta luego!

- Hasta luego.

It wasrt there.

Congratulations, Carol Ann.

- Fair the bride and happy the day.

- Oh, thank you, Dr. Grieve.

Evening.

Well, gentlemen, do I or don't I?

Am I yanked by my boots

or pulled by the hair of my head?

He's here on The Furies?

Gentlemen, I don't. Deal me out.

Mr. Darrow.

Mr. Jeffords, sir.

My honor and pleasure.

That's far enough.

I'll have no grit-eatir blackleg gambler

on The Furies, and I'll have no son of a Darrow.

Well, talk like that, sir, must be meant

as a joke. I'll be pleased to ignore it.

Ignore what you like, but drag your belly

out of here. You taint the place.

- Sir, you posted an open invitation...

to this gathering

on every stick of lumber in the country.

To protect those present

from any further unpleasantness...

I'd like to make a deal with you.

You stop telling lies about me,

and I'll stop telling the truth about you.

- I heard that before. Now get!

I killed your father in a fair fiight,

and I'd be pleased to do as much for you.

Mr. Darrow, sir...

this is our dance, I believe, sir.

Why did you come here?

I'm interested in the Darrow Strip.

What do they call you?

Some call me a grit-eatir blackleg gambler.

I run the Legal Tender.

Some call me Mr. Darrow,

and some call me Rip.

Rip. Fits you.

Like a blade cutting right through.

This wasrt our dance, Miss Jeffords,

and you didn't invite me here.

- Why did you let on you did?

- If I had ever seen you, I would have invited you.

I'm sure you would have.

- Modest, aren't you?

- No.

You think you're top man

on God's green earth, don't you?

I'm a gambler.

When I'm losing, I cut my bets to the minimum.

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