Western Union

---

We've lost him. You, men, head south.

We'll take the stage-coach trail.

What's the matter with you, Spider?

Whoa, boy.

Well, Spider, old boy.

I hate to part company but...

it's you or me.

Howdy, stranger.

Sorry, but I'm gonna have to borrow

your horse for a spell.

I reckon I'd better

borrow your gun, too.

Where does it hurt most?

My ankle.

Here and here.

Busted rib. Somebody put

the boot to you, huh?

Horse fell on me.

Take it easy.

Sit down.

Let's roll up your shirt.

Raise your hands over your head.

Feel better?

Much. Thanks.

Let's get outta here.

Well, why don't you say

what you're thinking?

I'm not thinking anything.

Come on.

Take a chew of this. It'll help

you keep your mind off the pain.

Thanks.

Come on.

Me, a Santa Claus.

-What's that?

-Nothing, nothing at all.

This is the stage depot.

They'll take care of you.

I'll still need your horse.

You're welcome to it,

and anything else I have.

Forget it.

What's going on here?

Don't look like one of them,

does he?

I never seen this fellow before.

-What do you want?

-What's your name, stranger?

-Edward Creighton.

-What you doing here?

-Surveyor.

-Surveyor?

Yes, I work for Western Union.

-What's Western Union?

-A telegraph company.

We're going through here next year

on our way to the coast.

I guess he's all right.

Anything wrong?

We had a bank holdup

at North Platte today.

We killed one of them

and the rest of them scattered.

Looks like we've lost them,

now for good.

-She's here, Mr. Creighton.

-Oh, good.

Are you ready?

I think so, Bert.

Now if I can just manage to

navigate on these things, Bert.

I reckon you'll be back this way

with that telegraph line before long.

If everything goes right, I will.

I do a little trapping now and then

so I was wondering...

how much it would cost to send

my pelts into Omaha by telegraph.

You can't send pelts by telegraph,

Bert.

-You can't?

-No. All you can send is writing.

Then the telegraph

ain't gonna do me any good.

Bert...

I can't repay you for your kindness,

but...

...this may help a little.

-Thanks.

Folding money!

Can you manage

all those things yourself?

Oh, yes, Sir.

Better let me take that, too.

Woody.

Woody, I want you to have this

along with my thanks.

Gosh, Mr. Creighton, thanks.

Goodbye, boys.

I'll see you next year.

-Get up!

-So long, Mr. Creighton.

-Nice fellow.

-Yes, Siree.

You don't believe what he said about

that telegraph coming through here...

...do you?

-Of course not.

There ain't no such thing

as a telegraph no how.

But he's a right nice fellow,

just the same.

He sure is. Look what he give me.

-His watch and chain!

-Yes.

What does a fellow

that goes to bed at sundown...

and gets up at sunup

want with a watch?

Well, it's a mighty pretty thing

to wear.

Sounds nice, too.

Yes.

Across the plains the pay

for drivers, diggers...

pole men and timber cutters

is two dollars a day.

And when we hit the Indian country,

it's three dollars....

and every man supplies

his own gun. O.K?

What do you mean O.K?

That's telegraph talk.

Means all right.

If the Doc here passes you,

you buckos have got yourself a job.

You'll do.

You'll do. Stand up, son.

-Nice withers.

-I ain't no horse.

You'll wish you were

before you're through.

Feels like you got

a slug of lead there, partner.

-Forty-four?

-Indian arrowhead.

It don't bother me none.

Some members of the medical

profession like to cut them out...

but I say let them stay

if they're that comfortable.

You know this country

we're going into?

Weren't a hundred miles from here

I lost this hair back in fifty-six.

A neat bit of surgery that.

What's ailing you?

Did he say a hundred miles

from here?

That was five years ago.

Nowadays we don't see no Indians

this side of Cottonwood Springs.

Then you and me start drawing down

an extra dollar, eh?

Speak for yourself, stranger.

When I get back to St. Joe,

I figure on keeping my hair...

instead of telling the folks

how I lost it.

Indians don't always

scalp a fellow.

Not if the fellow

scalps them first.

This ain't for me.

I've got to have peace and quiet

when I'm preparing my victuals.

-Are you a cook?

-For twenty years...

with the same head of hair.

And I intend to be for twenty more.

-Gents, I bid you good day.

-Hold him, Doc!

-Doctor Murdoch!

-Yeah?

Mr. Creighton says

he don't need these no more.

Put them down.

Go down to the cook-house...

and tell that good-for-nothing

poisoner he's fired.

Can you cook lamb?

There are nine different ways

to cook mutton and I know them all.

-Boiled, stewed, fricasseed.

-Never mind that.

Do you cook it

with the hair on it?

-I should say not.

-Hurray!

-Then you're hired.

-No, no!

And your job is to see

that he stays hired.

Remind me to show you an old

Indian way to cook prairie dog.

Oh, no. I should

have stayed in St. Joe.

-Hello, Mr. Creighton.

-Oh, hello, Bert.

-Where's Miss Creighton, Pat?

-She's, over at the corral, Sir.

We're buying some new horses today.

How many have we, Bert?

Who's that with my sister, Pat?

The fellow I hired to do scouting

and take charge of the livestock.

-Hello Sue.

-Edward, darling!

Don't tell me you've given up

telegraphy for a corral?

Edward, I'm so glad you're back.

What's the doctor

in Washington say?

Why, he says I'm fit as a fiddle.

I could walk from here to Salt Lake

on my hands if I had to.

I'm so glad.

Shaw, this is Mr. Creighton,

the big boss...

the only man around here you

have to be polite to.

I'm glad to know you, Shaw.

You've got to take a lot of horses

and cattle a long way.

-Do you think you can manage it?

-I think so.

Good.

Come on, sis. You're supposed to be

a telegrapher, you know.

-Goodbye, Mr. Shaw.

-Goodbye, ma'am.

What's the rush, Shaw?

We're not leaving here

for a couple of days.

I'm leaving tonight.

-Why?

-You know why.

I like being alone.

The best place to be alone

sometimes is in a crowd.

That's the way I figured it,

till I ran into you.

There's a good chance for you

in Western Union.

Is there?

I think so.

It's up to you.

You don't owe me nothing.

How could l?

I never saw you before.

Glad to meet you, Mr. Creighton.

Here.

Take a good chew of this.

-Helps keep your mind off things.

-Thanks.

Whoa.

Would you mind holding my horses

for me, old man?

Thank you very much.

I'd like to see

Mr. Creighton, please.

-Next office.

-Thank you.

-You spell dude D-U-D-E.

-That's the way l...

No, E's a single dot, like that.

-You put a dash after it, like that.

-I did nothing of the sort.

Besides, I don't even know

what you're talking about.

No, but I know

what you're talking about.

Next time let's talk about...

Mr. Creighton?

-Yes, I'm Creighton.

-Richard Blake, reporting for work, Sir.

How do you do, Mr. Blake.

I was expecting you by stage.

The stage was so crowded and bumpy

that I bought a spring wagon...

...and drove the last leg myself.

-Why, yes.

-Much more comfortable that way.

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