hey doc!
will he make it?
you're right. reckon saint peter must be gitten' mighty tired of dustin' off that doormat for him. by the way, how did you say it happened?
that's right; you didn't. reason i ask is, a couple fellers was in saying how dave was kickin' up a ruckus up at stan's place. sheriff jackson it was and one of the clewses.
tough customers, the clewses.
by the way, doc, they tell me george'll be out again. that's bob clews' brother. jest done a stretch in pen 'tentiary for horse stealin'.
that's what arly harolday was sayin' only this mornin'. you ain't met our arly yet, i reckon?
hell-fire in skirts.
clint harolday's in luck tonight.
i'm not settin' in.
i don't like to tell men how to play cards unless i'm settin' in -- but i mebbe ought to have spoken up. that queen was dead, clint -- and you know it.
you can't just go makin' your own rules, clint -- -- an' if i was you i'd hightail outa here before he comes back.
he's the kind.
he rooms behind his office down the street. don't usually pull up the blinds till around noon, though.
that does it, boys -- you know where the door is.
not until i get my money --
there's three drinks and a broken beer glass.
shorty's already gone for him.