The Harvey Girls Page #4

- What's this about bullets, Sam?

- Mind your own business, Ned.

- I'll see you later.

There's always a gun popping off.

That's how it is. Boys will be boys.

They fired a bullet into the lamp

where the girls were sleeping.

That's what I mean.

No harm done,

and we got rid of four of them already.

Pretty good?

Reverend Claggett,

go ahead with the church.

Why, thanks, Mr. Trent.

Ned, the Reverend

doesn't have a sense of humor.

- I'm not joking. Go right ahead, Reverend.

- I will.

You go over to those girls right away

and tell them not to worry.

There'll be no more accidental bullets

in their lives.

Wait a minute, Ned.

We're in this together, aren't we?

But let's stick

to the Marquis of Queensberry rules.

We should lick a bunch of women

with our hands tied behind our backs.

That's the biggest mistake you ever made.

If they want a church to let off steam in

instead of the Alhambra...

...I guess the Alhambra can hold its own.

Now, go on over there and tell them.

Well, now, that's a promising idea.

I'm quite sentimental about flowers.

I was discussing it with Reverend Claggett.

Reverend?

I thought they'd closed the church.

Yes, but we aim to open it again real soon.

There are some people

who don't like the idea of a church here.

Mr. Trent, for instance.

They don't like having

you ladies here either...

...but we figure

to overcome their objections.

Yes, indeed, beautiful flowers.

A church, lovely young ladies like you.

This town is going to be

something to be proud of.

- May I?

- Surely.

Thank you.

I'm sorry.

A man's apt to forget his manners

in a rough country like this.

- I'm Judge Purvis.

- How do you do?

I'm Miss Susan Bradley

and this is Miss Deborah Andrews.

- How do you do?

- It's nice to meet a man like you here.

The pleasure is mine.

I hope we'll see a lot of each other.

- Thank you.

- Thank you. Good day, Miss Andrews.

- Miss Bradley.

- Good day.

He's nice, isn't he?

Well, at least there's

one gentleman in Sandrock.

Now I know who fired that shot...

...l'm going to do something

about it right now.

Slumming, Miss Bradley?

- I was just looking for your employer.

- You've got your own backyard. Stay in it.

You certainly don't mind my coming over

to pay you a little call, do you?

In return for the call

you folks paid us last night?

What do you want out of Ned Trent?

Nothing.

I want to thank him for

all the hospitable things he's done for us.

- You're letting it go to your head.

- Letting what go to my head?

Listen, don't fool yourself.

Ned ain't doing this for you personally.

When he told Purvis to cut out the rough

stuff, it was no love message to you.

When he told Claggett

to open up the church...

...it doesn't mean

he'll put on a pair of white gloves...

...and cuddle up to you in the front pew.

If you meant anything,

he wouldn't have sent Judge to tell you.

Ned Trent can talk for himself.

But you don't mean anything to him, see?

He don't consider you worth fighting.

He'll give you your flowers and church.

You can sleep all you want at night.

But still he won't recognize you

the next time he looks at you.

You're in love with him.

Me in love with him?

Why, he don't even know I'm alive.

Him and his valley.

Valley? What valley?

He doesn't even know you're alive either.

- You're not very sure of yourself, are you?

- Listen, you little insignificant...

I may be little,

and I suppose I am insignificant...

...but I must be getting somewhere,

my friends and I...

...or a significant citizen like you

could never be so very, very worried.

'Morning.

You the new blacksmith?

We just opened up and I...

My name is Peters.

Most people call me Marty.

Well, my name's Maule,

but where I come from people call me Tex.

- Where do you come from, Tex?

- Massachusetts.

Take good care how you shoe this horse.

Last time, they done it all wrong,

and I didn't like it, see.

- Horse is like my own brother.

- There is a resemblance.

That is, I mean to say,

you can trust me, sir.

I'll shoe him like he was my own brother.

His shoes are about six and seven-eighths.

There's one up there.

I'll be back.

Chris! What's the matter?

Marty Peters was here. He left his horse...

Marty Peters!

The one that shot the last blacksmith?

Yeah. He seems to think a lot

of this horse and... He did what?

It's really only a rumor

based on circumstantial evidence.

- No eyewitnesses?

- A few...

...but nobody actually saw

the bullet leave the gun.

If you're going to shoe that horse,

you'd better get started.

Alma, I've a confession.

- I'm afraid of horses.

- That's all in your mind.

- Say to yourself, "I'm brave."

- I'm brave.

- "I'm determined."

- I'm determined.

- "I'm fearless."

- I'm fearless. I'm a liar.

Come ahead, Chris.

Show the horse you're not afraid of him.

Would you please sit down

and give me your foot?

That's not the way, silly.

See?

It's very simple.

All you have to do is take the pincers

and pry all the nails from the foot.

Then you take a rasp

and file the foot down.

Then you take a hot shoe, red-hot,

and burn his foot to a level.

Then he's ready for shoeing.

Place it on his foot

and drive six long nails into it.

I suppose I'll have to do it.

No.

Lose something, Miss Bradley?

Mr. Trent. Do you mind if I come down?

Thank you.

This country's not healthy for a woman,

Miss Bradley.

Why? Do you mean because I tripped?

That could happen back in Ohio.

But back in Ohio they'd find you.

It's certainly a nice view from out here.

- Is this where you usually come?

- Yes. Whenever I want to be alone.

I think that's a very good idea.

Getting off by yourself every so often.

It gives you a chance to think things out.

- What are you thinking out?

- Me?

I wanted to get a good look at a fellow...

...who'd run a saloon on one side

and help a church on the other.

You're a little bit mixed up.

I'm not helping any church.

My, your valley is beautiful, Mr. Trent.

Almost as beautiful as your letters.

I said I was sorry about the letters.

I'm not angry about that.

I've forgotten about it.

I know you had a reason.

You did it for a friend.

It was kind of like John Alden.

Alden?

Yes. Don't you know the story?

Well, it seems there was a man

in love with a girl.

Priscilla, her name was.

And he sent John Alden

to propose for him.

John Alden said he would.

It's a wonderful story.

Anyway, right after John Alden

finished proposing...

...Priscilla looked at him and said,

"Why don't you speak for yourself, John?"

Go on. How does it end?

I don't know. It's pretty silly.

I don't think you'd like it.

Why not?

I like all the things Longfellow wrote.

Miss Bradley,

do you mind if I ask you something?

Do you suppose if I wrote a letter,

a serious letter, that...

...some girl might be willing to marry me?

I suppose judging by me, Mr. Trent,

that she'd take you like that.

I don't know.

Sometimes you don't even have to write.

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