The Westerner
- APPROVED
- Year:
- 1940
- 100 min
- 241 Views
Hey, wire.
Wire. They've
drawn a fence across there.
Them plow-pushers must have
put it up there last night.
Give me them wire cutters.
I'll fix this.
Cow herders!
Hey, cornhuskers!
Shad Wilkins, you've
of the most serious crime west of the Pecos,
to wit, shooting a steer.
Got anything to say for yourself before
the sentence of the court is executed?
I told you they shot at me first!
I didn't mean to kill that steer on purpose!
I was aiming at the man.
It's your bad luck you missed him.
That's the trouble with you sodbusters,
you can't shoot straight.
Shad,
may the Lord have mercy on your soul. Hey!
Buck, I want to see you.
Well, how's the hanging, there?
Well, his neck
didn't hardly stretch a foot.
Here's to the greatest woman in the world,
the fairest flower that ever bloomed,
- Lily Langtry.
- Miss Langtry.
Hold it, boys.
Did you hear the toast, stranger?
To Lily Langtry? I thought
you meant your friends.
I didn't know that included me.
That includes every man
that drinks at my bar.
Glad to join you. Have
you ever met Miss Langtry?
No, I never met her. I never met the
sun, I never shook hands with the moon,
and I've never been introduced to no clouds.
That's all right. Too bad Lily
Langtry couldn't have heard that.
Did you ever see her?
No, I was in England once,
but didn't get around to it.
Oh, you was in England once,
and you could have seen her,
- but you never got around to it, eh?
- Yeah.
- Get out of my bar.
- Huh?
Get out of my bar!
- To the Jersey Lily.
Miss Langtry.
Here's how.
All right, Mort, if Shad's
good and cold, you can have him.
$4, that's all he had. I'll make
it up to you on the next one.
Get off.
- What you got there?
- A horse thief, Judge.
Prisoner of the bar.
- Get in there.
Chickenfoot, the law.
Hear ye, hear ye, court
of Vinegarroon is now in session.
What's the charge?
We caught him on Chickenfoot's
horse that was stole last week.
- My horse Pete? Where's he at?
- Right outside.
Well, so it is. Pete.
No, Your Honor. I was just
trying to get the lay of the land.
- You will, too, at the end of a rope.
Southeast, no anticipating.
Hey, Judge! Judge, that is my old
sabino pony. He's tied right out there.
People of Vinegarroon again...
You can use any name you like.
Cole Harden.
What are
you doing in Vinegarroon?
- Oh, just passing through.
- Homesteader?
- No.
Where do you hail from?
- No place in particular.
Where are you heading for?
- No place special.
- Oh, saddle bum, huh?
Well, it's all right to live on
a horse if it's your own horse.
Bart, turn loose the prisoner's
hands. Chickenfoot, swear him in.
Do you swear to
tell the truth... So help you?
Take off your hat!
Well, now, I'll tell you, son...
Are you Bean?
- Judge Roy W. Bean.
- My name's Jane Ellen Mathews.
Yes, Miss Mathews, what can I do for you?
- What have you done with Shad Wilkins?
- Shad Wilkins?
He was working in the fields
when some of your wranglers
came up and took him away.
Shad Wilkins. Shad Wilkins.
Oh, yeah, he was hanging around out there
a while back, but he ain't around now.
Your men not only took him away,
but they tore down the fence.
Not a stick of it was left standing.
That so?
Yes, that's so, and you needn't
pretend you don't know about it.
Well, it don't surprise me none.
It's against the law to
build fences hereabouts.
- What law? Whose law?
- Mine.
- Now, you listen to me, Mr. Bean.
- Judge Bean.
You're no more a judge than I
am. Just call yourself a judge.
I wouldn't say that if I was you. I
might consider it contempt of court.
It's contempt, all right.
You call this a court?
I do, and it happens to
be in session right now.
Southeast, get the young lady a chair.
Now, you sit down, Miss Mathews, and
I'll tend to your case in a minute.
You're charged with stealing
a horse. Guilty or not guilty?
Not guilty.
Where's exhibit A?
- Huh?
Where's the horse? Bring
in the horse, Chickenfoot.
Oh, yeah. Yeah, horse.
Miss Mathews, when cattle
can't get to water, they die.
each side of our homestead.
This country's unfenced rangeland.
It always was, and always will be.
Get in there. All
right, give me room there, you guys.
Come on, get in there.
Whoa, Pete. Come on in here.
Come on, get over there.
Give us a little room.
All right, Judge, there he is.
Mr. Harden, it's my duty to inform you
that the larceny of an equine is a
capital offense, punishable by death,
but you can rest assured that, in this court,
fair trial before he's hung.
- Chickenfoot, that's your horse?
- Oh, why, Judge...
Can you prove it's your horse?
Why, Judge, anybody here... I can prove
it by Pete himself that he's my horse.
Pete, you're my horse, ain't you?
Ownership of horse clearly
established. It belongs to Chickenfoot.
That's my ruling.
Well, I don't contest it, Your
Honor. Maybe the horse does belong
to Chickenfoot here, but I didn't steal it.
- How'd you get it then?
- I bought it.
Order in the court!
- That all you got to say?
- That's all.
No, it's not. I'm not going to stay here
and see anybody railroaded like this.
Miss Mathews, I don't recollect you
was summoned as a witness in this trial.
What kind of a trial is it when a prisoner
isn't even allowed to
have anybody speak for him?
You an attorney, Miss?
I'm as much an attorney as you are a judge.
- You know this man?
- No, I don't.
- You ever see him before?
- No, but...
- Can you prove he didn't steal the horse?
- No.
Then he don't need no lawyer then.
This man was caught on a stolen horse,
and in this jurisdiction,
that's prima facie evidence.
- The case is closed and that's my ruling.
- Yes, and it's just like all your rulings!
The courtroom will now
be cleared of everybody,
excepting the judge, the jury,
the prisoner, the witnesses and...
All right, I'll go. I
don't want to see anymore.
It's murder, that's what it is. Murder.
This man hasn't got a
chance, and you know it,
but you never give anybody a chance.
You didn't give us one when you
stampeded the cattle over our crops.
homesteaders out, but you didn't.
You can pester us and rob us and
kill us, but you can't stop us.
'Cause there'll always be
more coming. More and more.
And we'll stay on our farms in spite of
you, and your courtroom and your killers!
By gobs, she's all right.
She'd make a good cattleman.
If it wasn't for Lily, I'd marry her.
Giddap.
You heard the case against
the accused, pro and con.
Now I guess maybe you'd better
retire to consider a verdict.
Chickenfoot, you'd better take
Pete out for a little fresh air.
Take him out, Bart. I got work to do.
And while you retire, there'll be
a recess for them that's thirsty.
Well, I guess you can't take it with you.
It's got to be strictly understood
you ain't making no effort to influence
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"The Westerner" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 23 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_westerner_21628>.
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