The Furies Page #9

Look at her, Bailey.

She's smart, and she's a beauty,

and she's full of lick and fiire.

She's one in a nation.

I tell ya, no one could have bred her

but T.C. Jeffords.

You're an old rogue bull, T. C...

and you'll always prance wild.

And so The Furies

is in your hands, huh?

Well, I suppose

that's where she'd best be.

I'm back to scratch.

That's when I had my fun -

startir from scratch.

What's your share in all this?

The Darrow Strip.

It's mine.

You've ached you a long time

to say that, haven't you?

Yeah.

And I don't think I'll stop aching

till I have a son who'll own the whole Furies.

No.

By all the 12 sons ofJacob.

I got $100 gold in my pocket.

That'll just about see us through

the royalest ranahan this town ever did see.

- We'll start at the Queen High.

- The Legal Tender!

It's my doir.

We'll start where I say.

We'll begin us at the Queen High.

No tellir where we'll end us.

Oh, wait, uh -

Forgot my chore.

Paid in full.

T.C. Jeffords.

There.

Come on, Bailey.

Come on, Scotty.

We're gonna celebrate,

and we're gonna start right now!

Rip -

I know. You want it to be

a three-way partnership.

Now I'll have all the fun again

of startir from scratch!

- Arert you getting a little old for that?

- Old? Just the right age.

Old enough to know better

and young enough to forget what I know.

Don't think I ain't had me

an ace up my sleeve.

Scotty's got $5,000...

and there's an island off the California coast

named Catalina.

- You've told me about that island.

- Yeah, well, I didn't tell you all about it.

- You mean a certain wiry little fiilly?

- Where'd you hear about that?

- No matter about her.

I tell ya, there's this island there

and it's fiit for a king!

- Somebody's been shot.!

- It's T.C.! T.C.'s been shot!

- Someone's been shot.! Over here.! This way.!

Get Dr. Grieve.

He's in the bar. Get him!

The old Herrera witch, huh?

She could hit a pigeon in the eye

at 300 yards.

And don't you go namir my grandson T.C.

That's too heavy a pack for him to carry.

He'll have too much to live up to.

'Cause there'll never be another like me.

Scotty...

will you take him home...

to The Furies?

We'll put a great stone over him.

We'll carve the letters two feet high -

T.C. Jeffords.

He'll like that.

And we'll have his grandson.

And we'll name him T.C. Just the same.

## Oh, there never was a man like old T.C. ##

## When he was in his prime ##

##His word was law ##

##His whip was raw ##

##At T.C. Roundup time ####

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