Warlock Page #5

I heard Buck Slavin say

he thought today was hotter.

- Matter of opinion, I guess.

- Of course, a matter of opinion.

Would you happen to have

some water in that canteen?

- The heat makes one terribly thirsty.

- Yes, ma'am, I do.

That's all right, I can drink

right from the canteen.

- You were out riding, you said.

- On my way to Medusa mine.

That mountain water sure

makes one feel much cooler.

Yes, ma'am, it generally does.

What are you doing out here?

Not shooting at bad men?

- No, practising.

- Practising?

Yes, ma'am. Just as you practice

the piano, I practice the Colt.

The stakes are different,

but the reason's the same.

What should we talk about now,

Miss Jessie?

The men you posted

are coming into town.

Thank you for warning me,

but I've already heard.

Why does it have to happen?

Why do these things always end

in bloodshed?

That's how things are.

That's why I was hired,

why you hired me.

So, they'll come into town

- And you'll shoot them dog dead?

- Or them me.

Or them you.

Understand, Miss Jessie,

I enjoy being marshal.

I'm a simple man,

good only with Colts.

It's all I am,

handy with Colts.

Besides, being marshal's a habit.

Habits are hard to break.

I know about habits.

Before my father died he was sick

for nine years

and I nursed him all that time.

Guess I have the nursing habit.

That summer,

there was a typhoid epidemic

and I turned the house

into a hospital.

There were the injured

miners...

It's strange...

When I came to Warlock,

a very young girl

I had dreams that someday,

I'd be someone.

My father kept telling me

I'd be someone.

You're someone, Miss Jessie.

You're the miners' angel.

Don't say that.

I hate being an angel.

Miss Jessie.

If you had whisky in that canteen,

you'd see how much of an angel I am.

Have you ever tasted whisky?

- Many times.

- How many?

Once.

- I wanted you to do that.

- I know.

- I came out here to find you.

- I know.

Is that dreadful of me?

Dreadful.

It's cooked just right,

Jessie.

It takes a while

to get used to a man's tastes.

My father used to like his meat

barely scorched.

Chicken fried,

that's the only way.

Clay...

Why must those cowboys

come into town?

They've been declared guilty

of being road agents.

If they stay out,

yellow bellies besides.

If they come in,

they'll think they're heroes

proving their innocent.

Striking a blow for freedom, too.

Men have died for that

many a time.

I'll fix your eggs.

Morning, miss.

Is the marshal available?

Will you inform him there are three

murdering cowboys in town?

- Come in, Morgan. Have a coffee.

- No, thank you. There isn't time.

- Where are they?

- Down at the Lucky Dollar.

I better go see what they want.

- You haven't had your breakfast.

- Just as well, miss.

If he takes a stomach wound,

it's better if he hasn't eaten.

Keep the coffee hot,

I'll be back.

Clay...

- I'll make you a fresh breakfast.

- Thank you.

I think we're going to see a finish

of the McQuowns this morning.

Yeah, then we can move on.

Where to?

A fellow dropped in last night

from Palfrie City.

Sounds like it's made for us,

booming with a gold strike,

we ought to take a look.

- I don't think so. Not this time.

- What do you mean?

Jessie and I

are going to get married.

Yeah?

When?

In a couple of weeks,

as soon as I can get a preacher.

I guess I'll be going to Palfrie City

alone...

Why do you have to go?

It's the way it's always been.

You do ajob,

you move on to the next.

This time, it's different.

Blaisdell, reach.

It's a bad morning for thinking.

Thinking of weddings

could lead to a funeral.

- Shall we, marshal?

- Thank you, Mr. Morgan.

- We're with you, marshal.

- Good luck.

If I can help, marshal...

Deputy!

- Marshal, let me try to talk to them.

- What good would it do?

- One of them is my brother.

- We're wasting time.

- We have to move now, Clay.

- It's my fight, deputy.

- They called me out.

- Yes, I know that.

- All right, go ahead.

- Thanks.

You're throwing in with us, Jonny?

- Billy, you can't do this.

- You're a weasel, like Calhoun.

Blaisdell saved you

from that lynch mob

and he could've killed you

that night in the French Palace.

There's no need for this,

no reason.

There's reason enough,

to stand up and be a man.

This is a free territory, and while

gunmen like Blaisdell...

You're talking Abe's foolishness.

He'll kill you.

I'm not scared of him.

Are you, Johnny?

I'm scared of dying,

just like any man,

and so are you, Billy.

I just want to know

what you're going to do.

Are you going to back me,

or Blaisdell?

I won't back him,

because you're my brother.

And I won't back you,

because you're wrong.

Pony said it'd be no use.

Come one, Blaisdell!

Billy, don't!

You don't have to fight me.

You and your partners,

just ride out.

Go for your gun.

Don't make me kill you, boys.

Clear on out.

Go for your gun!

Oh, no...

Billy, Billy...

I had nothing to do with it...

Start shooting,

or get out of town.

I could've killed you,

if they hadn't done that.

We only wanted to talk.

Mr. Richardson,

we only wanted to talk.

Friendly...

Three hits.

One through the throat, two not

a finger apart, through the heart.

I must be losing my touch.

All three were chest aimed.

Clay, you've been hit.

Is that true,

what Friendly said?

You saw it, Mr. Petrix.

Did it look like they came to talk?

- Let's have nurse fix that up.

- I'll take it to Miss Jessie's.

Doc will fix it

while I finish my breakfast.

You gotta...

You gotta...

You gotta tell everybody, Johnny.

Yes, Billy.

- I didn't know.

- Yes, Billy.

Billy...

Billy, Billy, Billy...

Billy...

- Evening, Mr. Marshal.

- Are you McQuown's messenger boy?

No, sir.

This poster is my work.

Excellent lettering and spelling,

don't you think?

But not your idea, I hope.

No. I have to give Abe

full credit for that.

Chief of regulators. That's a fancy

title. Did you think that up?

No, sir.

Once again, Abe gets the credit.

He said that if Warlock

could appoint a marshal

outside the law,

then somebody could appoint

a chief of regulators.

And who would that someone be?

That's be the Cowboys' Council

for the Protection of San Pablo.

I made that title up.

You know, this could get to be

quite a thing.

The town of Warlock

appoints a marshal

he kills a whole bunch

of us cowboys

and we appoint regulators

and we kill you

and the town gets another marshal

who kills more cowboys

and we appoint...

Well, you can see how it'd go

back and forth for all time.

It'd be like looking

into two mirrors,

put face to face.

Marshal,

I've got so many of these.

I wonder if you'd like to have one,

as a keepsake.

Thank you.

For your collection.

Clay...

You've seen the poster, huh?

You take the buggy, Jessie.

I'll stay and talk to Tom.

All right, Clay.

Maybe you better stay

and find out

what it's like being married

to a marshal.

If he doesn't handle this right,

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