Union Pacific Page #3

Yes? What's the limit?

None.

Because our town's on wheels,

we've no civil law out here.

You're the law. And it's up to you to

smash anything that threatens to delay us.

That's all the orders

there are. Yes, sir.

I declare, he seems like

a right nice young fella.

I hope he lives long enough

so as we can get acquainted.

[whistle blowing]

[horse whinnying]

[train whistle blowing]

Hey, what's moving? You are.

Oh, am I, now? Yep.

Lady, you're on a brake wheel,

and one whistle means turn it.

Are you running this

train all by yourself?

No, but passengers aren't allowed on

the platform while the train's moving.

Passengers. Me?

[exclaiming]

You poor tenderfoot.

[door slamming]

[creaking]

The new troubleshooter's

looking for you, Mr. Campeau.

For what?

I don't know. Heading this way, though.

Keep an eye on him.

Al.

Al Brett, Cordray.

Rose, you and Mame better get

to the other end of the car.

A lady can't get no rest.

A lady don't need none.

Sit down and keep your eyes open.

(Campeau) Dick.

Sit down, Mollie, and keep low.

Why? What's going on?

Campeau's expecting company.

[train whistle blowing]

That's him.

Wait here.

Lonesome, handsome?

[woman giggling]

Jeff Butler. Dick.

You old dogcatcher.

You old chicken thief.

[both laughing]

(Dick) Remember the last time

I saw you in Philadelphia...

Baltimore... Oh, now wait.

We started celebrating our discharge

from the Army in New York...

and we came up for air in Philadelphia.

I put you to bed in Baltimore,

and I woke up in Washington.

Old army pals, huh?

If it wasn't for him,

I wouldn't be alive.

Jeff, this is Sid Campeau.

(Butler) I've heard of Mr. Campeau.

This is Mr. Brett and Mr.

Cordray. Captain Butler.

Howdy. Hello.

Howdy.

[laughing] You old sharpshooter.

What are you doing here?

I'm working for the railroad.

Doing what? I'm assistant

superintendent of the...

Just a fancy name for troubleshooter?

Maybe.

It looks like we'd see

quite a lot of each other...

for a while.

I was figuring on having

a little talk with you.

Maybe you'd better have a little

talk with your friend here first.

Tell your playmates they

can sit easy for a while.

[laughing] Same old Jeff.

This is my seat, and this is

Miss Mollie Monahan. Jeff Butler.

Sit down, Jeff.

Jeff and I fought, bled and died

together, all during the war.

It wasn't you two that

won the war, was it?

[chuckling] Practically.

How much of a friend of

yours is Campeau? Sid?

He's my partner.

You'd better get yourself

another partner, Dick.

[chuckles]

I've already got my eye on one.

Oh.

Is it another slap you're

asking for, Mr. Butler?

Darling, will you kindly

hold your temper...

your tongue, and your two

little fists. They ain't little.

(Dick) You can't fight Mollie and live.

[laughs]

She's the postmistress at End of Track.

The eyes and tongue of 1000 men

who never learned to read or write.

She belongs to the railroad.

Although you'd think the

railroad belonged to her.

What about Campeau?

What about him?

Part of my job is to clear him

and his outfit off the line.

No, you can't do it, Jeff.

Don't try.

We've been through a lot

of storms together, Dick.

We've slept under the same

blanket, eaten off the same plate.

Join up with me again.

I'm standing pat and liking it.

Well, I'm afraid we're in

different armies this time.

You think there'll be a

rope around my neck someday?

Maybe.

[chuckles]

Sure now, that's a crazy way for

two friends to be saying hello.

[all laughing]

(woman) Hey, what's that? Hey, look.

The Injun boy, he race the iron horse.

[all laughing]

Monahan will bust his boiler

if the Injun keeps up with him.

[Fiesta laughing]

(man #1) Come on, Indian boy.

(man #2) Open up, Monahan.

(Bessie) Say, he's cute.

(woman #1) Now, Bessie.

$5, I get him on my first shot.

You're on.

(man #3) He's going to beat us.

(man #4) Oh, no, he won't.

[woman laughing]

[laughing]

(woman #1) What did he do that for?

(woman #2) Oh, that's a shame.

(Brett) Pay up.

(man #1) That ain't

nothing. Why you all...

(man #2) Look out, Brett.

(man #4) Get out of the way.

[people clamoring]

[grunting]

No, Dick.

Everybody just stay in their seats.

Just keep eating your vittles,

Mr. Campeau, with both hands.

[groaning]

[all chattering]

(man #2) Use your feet.

[women exclaiming]

[gun firing]

You weasel.

One at a time, gentlemen,

you'll all get your turn.

[people clamoring]

[people chattering]

There's the man. Now,

what's going on here?

What are you fellas trying

to... Conductor, stop the train.

One of my men got thrown off.

Thrown off? Where? Don't

pull that cord, Conductor.

But Mr. Campeau said...

This train doesn't stop.

All right.

That shot didn't just kill an Indian.

It killed a dozen white men, and

scalped and tortured women and children.

Tsk.

What's a dead Indian, more or less?

The Army's been killing them for years.

The Army doesn't kill

Indians for fun, Campeau.

And I don't think you do, either.

He's sure gonna be unpopular.

Not with me.

[men chattering]

[train bell ringing]

[workers chattering]

(man) Get along.

[men chattering]

Thank you kindly. Good

day to you, Shamus.

Good day, Paddy.

'Tis news of me wife I've

come for, Mollie Monahan.

I've no letter for you, Paddy.

Why don't you send for her?

I've all but $20 of the passage money.

I'm on me way to the

Big Tent to win that.

Sure, Paddy, you fool.

You can't win at Campeau's.

I can't lose.

Only this morning...

I found this shamrock in

a prayer book she sent me.

Now, the shamrock's not

for that kind of luck.

Wait till you see.

(barker) One man's money is as

good as another's in the Big Tent.

Step right in, my friends.

If you don't feel

like taking a chance...

there's plenty of

dancing, at $1 a couple.

$1 a couple and there's

sweet music on the house.

Step right up, my friends,

and enjoy your luck.

##[band playing music]

Don't lean on my chair.

It's bad luck. Get away.

It's not your rightful card.

You took it off the bottom.

Say that again.

I'll clout it into your thieving head.

Stay where you are. (Paddy)

With me own two eyes...

I saw you slip it off...

[gun firing]

[Paddy groaning]

[band stop playing]

(Paddy) You dirty blackguard.

[groaning]

The music. It stopped right with it.

Jeff.

Nothing I can do for him.

Where's his gun? He had none...

and he couldn't shoot one if he had.

(man #1) Who got plugged?

(man #2) Just some Irish tracklayer.

(man #3) Is he dead yet?

(man #4) I don't know.

Who was it? Oh, the pity of it all.

It was Paddy O'Rourke.

(Leach) One side, gentlemen,

please. Easy there.

Paddy.

Paddy O'Rourke.

The letter, Mollie. It came?

The letter?

From Nora.

Yes, Paddy.

Paddy's letter.

Could you be reading it to me?

Sure, Paddy.

Paddy, my darling...

my...

my heart's so full of

love for you, sure...

sure 'tis spilling out of me eyes.

'Tis such an impatient

husband you are, Paddy, but...

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