Two Rode Together Page #3

discuss in mixed company...

...especially when

one of the parties is...

Matrimony.

- No.

- Matrimony.

Holy smoke. Matrimony.

And, of course, in this case,

when one of the parties is sort of...

You know, she carries a stiletto

right there in her garter.

I know.

And we were sitting

around the place talking...

How do you know?

Well, you just told me.

Say, she actually proposed, huh?

- You didn't know about that before?

- About what?

About the stiletto?

How would I know

about that before? Come on.

What do you mean?

Did she propose? No.

She didn't, if you mean

getting down on one knee.

She didn't do that.

You have to give her credit

for more animal cunning than that.

No, no. As I...

As I remember the approach...

...it was that she didn't see

why I was satisfied...

...with just 10 percent of her take...

...when she was willing

to go for fifty-fifty.

You mean to tell me you're getting

10 percent of Madam Aragon's place?

- Don't tell me you didn't know that.

- I didn't know about that.

I get 10 percent of everything

in Tascosa.

Holy crimanetta.

What? This goes along

with the job of marshal.

- You're a dirt...

- It's no secret about it.

- You're a dirty thief, McCabe.

- Everybody knows it.

Wait a minute.

You don't think I could live

on the marshal's salary, do you?

- A measly $100 a month, Jim?

- Well, that's 20 more than I get.

I know, but look...

Look at you.

Look at you. Jim, Jim.

You're a man of simple wants.

I just require a little more, that's all.

- Oh, come on, that's a lot of hogwash.

- Horses are watered, sir!

All right, Posey.

The men refill their canteens?

Well, the men did,

but I didn't notice you refilling yours.

That's right. I'm afraid I haven't.

There you go again.

Just when I think I got you

trained real good...

...you go forgetting things like now.

It's just downright

discouraging, lieutenant.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry, sergeant.

It won't happen again.

Hey, Slim! Fill mine up

while you're at it, will you?

- Now, see here, civilian...

- Posey. Posey.

Marshal McCabe's our guest.

He's afraid of getting

his fancy boots wet.

And me with my feet killing...

Well, there goes another man

with simple wants.

Eight beers.

There he is,

the blessing of the Lord.

Clay, Pete, come here.

William.

William!

- William!

- Anna!

Anna!

You sure seem to be popular

around here.

The least you could do is tip your hat

or take a bow, make a speech.

Yeah, I might.

Except it's you they're cheering.

- Me?

- Yep.

You'll find him.

- You'll find my Toby!

- Here now, Mary. Now, Mary.

Well, he's here.

Does he know what he's here for?

That's not my department, sir.

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