Dallas Page #2

As I tried to explain this afternoon,

I have a letter from the Attorney General.

You're to accompany me

to Dallas County, in Texas.

Brigands are terrorizing

the district.

- Brothers.

- What's their name?

Is it the Marlow brothers?

Well, yes. Yes, that's it.

Evidently, a poetic family.

There's a Bryant Marlow, a William Marlow,

and a Longfellow.

- Cullen?

- Yes, that's it.

You know them?

I've never seen them.

These are orders, Hickok.

Your patriotic duty demands...

Sonny, there are duty scars

all over my hide.

From now on, folks are gonna buy tickets

just to look at them...

...on the stage of a theater.

You mean you're

going to be an actor?

Why not?

You're what marshaling

has petered down to.

Folks will be glad to pay

to see the genuine, hairy specimen.

Happy hunting, marshal.

The law is in your purty hand.

Marshal, this... This outlaw.

If you don't arrest him,

I shall.

Outlaw?

Let me tell you something, son.

This ain't Boston.

We had a war down here. You'll find men

in high office who are thieves, cutthroats.

You'll find others who are branded outlaws

that are only fighting for what's their own.

There's those known as bad men

and those as are bad men.

You better learn to tell the difference.

- Hey, where are you going?

- With you.

What, to Dallas?

Well, Hickok's out of circulation,

ain't he?

You mean that you'd

take Mr. Hickok's place?

- Why not?

- Why, I don't know you, Mr. Hollister.

You're branded as an outlaw,

a Southern guerrilla.

Though I can see merit

in what Mr. Hickok says.

Heaven knows you're more capable

than I, but...

- Oh, to make you my deputy.

- You still haven't got the hang of it.

I beg your pardon?

I'm not gonna be your deputy.

You're gonna be mine.

You're not known in Dallas. Neither am I.

So I'll be Marshal Weatherby.

Nothing new in that idea.

A regular custom up north, I understand.

Hiring other people to do

your fighting for you.

I was at Chickamauga, Mr. Hollister.

My brother was at Gettysburg.

Well, you're something brand-new

in carpetbaggers.

Well, anyway, you can forget about

the Marlows. One of them, anyway.

You just swear me in,

and I'll kill off Bryant for you...

...all in the name

of the United States government.

There's to be no bloodshed.

I merely want them apprehended.

- Apprehended? Bryant Marlow?

- Yes.

You remember that little boy

I was telling Wild Bill about?

You're him, bub.

Boston bean.

I look like a Yankee cod,

but I hope I don't smell like one.

Might be an improvement

over a Johnny Reb.

Take it easy, blue-belly.

You're lucky I stomached you this far.

But that's the way it's got to be.

You're me, but I'm not you.

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