Canyon Passage

Give him a rubdown and

plenty of feed. Yes, sir.

Logan Stuart's the name.

Thanks, Mr. Stuart.

Damp day.

How's Jacksonville?

Lively.

Credit to account?

I'll take that specie.

We're short of cash

at the diggings.

What time do you open

in the morning?

Tomorrow's Sunday.

Then put the specie

in the saddle bags

and I'll come by for it

before you close tonight.

You must have

around 7,000 here.

That's no trinket to be left

lying loose around a hotel room.

Gold is only yellow gravel,

Cornelius.

Yes, but the yellow color

makes all the difference.

Butter's yellow, too, and

you can spread it on bread.

Ever try that with gold?

For a business man,

you've got odd ideas.

If I were a banker,

as I shall be some day,

I'd set you down as unsound

and lend you nothing.

A man can choose his own gods,

Cornelius. What are your gods?

What?

Damp day.

Let me see that.

Yes, sir.

It's a beautiful little

locket. It came from England.

I'll take it.

A fortunate young lady, whoever

she is. Anything else, sir?

Yes, I need some dry clothes, shirt,

socks, everything from the skin out.

Hey, Logan! Come here.

How are you, McLane?

Fine. Just the man I want to see.

What are the Indians doing

down your way this year?

So far, quiet and uncertain.

Whiskey?

Whiskey.

Whiskey.

Logan, I've got a consignment of

general hardware from the brig Alice

to be delivered to Clay

& King at Jacksonville.

It's cloth, rope,

tin dishes, buckets.

I'm shipping by boat

to Salem.

Do you want to

pack it from there?

How many mules will it make?

Oh, 20, I suppose.

What's your freight?

Three dollars a mule

per day.

Agreeable.

It'll be in Salem on the

20th. Two more of the same.

Not for me.

I've got to see

if I can get a load of windows

hauled out to Gales Creek.

Windows?

Windows with glass?

We're becoming civilized.

Oh, Bob. Bob Miller.

Lumber's selling sky-high

in San Francisco.

You sure enough will make

a handsome profit, Captain.

Miss Lucy Overmire arrived?

In Room 10. Just off the

Cascades boat. Thanks.

She's been asking

for George Camrose.

We got through all right.

But the train back of us, 50

wagons, not a one of them left.

Come in, George.

Why, Logan!

Hello, Lucy.

Oh, George had to make a

sudden trip to Crescent City.

He knew I was coming up, so he

asked me if I'd bring you home.

Will you mind having me

on your hands, Logan?

That was a foolish question.

You don't mind

having women on your hands.

Where did you get that?

Rumor.

George Camrose, I bet.

Oh, have you got

stout clothes?

I want to get started before

daylight and the weather's foul.

I don't mind.

How was your visit

up at The Dalles?

Quiet.

Oh, Logan, there were a lot of

cattle abandoned by the emigrants.

You could probably get them

for very little.

Did you see any mules?

No.

Well, five o'clock then,

and dress warm.

We'll make Salem the first day

and Toms River the second.

We should be in Jacksonville

Friday afternoon,

unless that's traveling

too fast for you.

No.

I suppose you're going down

to play a little poker now.

I guess not. Good night.

A woman, Logan?

I kept open for you.

Thanks.

I was just reading

in the Advertiser

they've completed

a suspension bridge

across Niagara Falls for the

railroad. Well, that's progress.

Out our way, we haven't

even got a stagecoach yet.

Well, you've got

to have the roads first.

Maybe it's

the other way around.

Get the stagecoaches and

there'll be plenty of roads.

Well, from

a banking viewpoint,

I'd want to be sure

there were roads there first!

What's that?

I said, from

a banking viewpoint, I'd...

Oh, poohdaddle!

Come in, Logan.

You see,

it wasn't a woman.

Why didn't you say so then?

You're marrying George,

not me.

What have you got in the

saddle bags? Gold coin.

You know, I was watching you

from the window.

There was a man standing

at the corner of Alder

as you passed

and he followed you.

Don't worry about it.

Good night, Lucy.

Good night.

Logan! What happened?

A bad try. He got away.

Who was it?

I have an idea it was Bragg.

He had an arm

like a chunk of oak.

You're hurt!

I'm all right.

Lucy, you better get

out of here.

Go on to bed

and get some sleep.

We're leaving at five sharp.

What makes you so sure

it was Bragg up in Portland?

He might have trailed me.

He's had me on his mind

for quite awhile,

ever since those two miners

were killed over at Evans' Ferry.

The ones

the Indians murdered?

Indians?

I was out on the road

that morning

and I saw Bragg come out of

the willows running his horse.

A few minutes later, I

stumbled onto the two bodies.

I could've had him hanged

for it and he knows it.

Why didn't you?

That was rather careless.

I didn't see him do it.

You wouldn't want to hang a man

if there was the slightest doubt.

No, you wouldn't.

Things have got to be dead even

with you, is that it, Logan?

Ease up there!

Easy, easy.

Where're you from?

Salt Lake.

No good back there anymore.

Too populated.

Get over here!

Get over here!

Come on!

How are things along the way?

One miner was killed last

night over at Graves Creek.

Indians?

Are you game

to make a night ride of it?

We'll reach Ben Dance's

by daylight.

Fine.

Howdy, Logan! Come on in.

Tired?

Dead.

Go along in.

Hello, Mr. Dance.

Morning, Miss Lucy.

Breakfast is awaiting.

Asa, come out here

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