1922 Page #4

---

Oh, yeah. Me, too.

Mending fence is hot work.

Not as hot as riding 20 miles

in Lars' truck, though, I'll bet.

Whoo.

My sit-upon may never be the same.

[chuckles]

[chuckles]

[clears throat]

Perhaps we could drink it inside,

Mr. James.

- It would be a little cooler.

- It would,

but I'd no more invite you inside

than I'd shake your hand.

- Hello, Mr. Olsen.

- Henry.

I imagine you're here on business, yeah.

My wife's.

I am.

Well, why would she send you?

Your wife didn't send me, Mr. James.

In point of fact,

I came here to look for her.

Mm. Well, that proves it then.

Proves what?

She absconded, Mr. Lester.

Decamped.

Did a midnight flit.

Whatever you want to call it.

Yep.

But, uh...

I'd have to say...

it sounded to me

like she got as tired of you fellows

as she did of me.

And the son she gave birth to. Good day.

You... You'll pardon me for saying...

but this all seems very strange to me,

Mr. James.

Very strange indeed,

considering the amount of money

my client is willing to pay

for that piece of property.

Let's just say

trying to nail that woman down...

is like trying to nail jelly to the floor.

Could I look in the house?

Oh!

Hey, Henry.

Tell this man where's your mama.

I... I don't know, Pa.

Well, don't tell me. Tell him.

Well... you called me out for breakfast

Friday morning...

and that was it.

She was gone. Packed and gone.

Is that the truth, son?

Yes, sir.

Can I go back inside? Got schoolwork

to make up from being sick.

[Wilfred]

Go. Remember it's your turn to milk.

Yes, sir.

This isn't finished.

Did I do it all right, Papa?

You did perfect, son.

Are we gonna get caught?

Are we going to jail?

- When are we gonna fill in the well?

- Not yet.

[Henry] But why?

[Wilfred] You know...

it's only a matter of time

before he brings Sheriff Jones out there.

A filled in well might make him suspicious

about why it got filled in,

so recent and all.

But one that's still being filled in...

And for good reason.

Turn around and watch her ass.

Come on.

That's it. Come on.

- Come on.

- Pa, we can't...

Come on. [Grunts]

Now what?

[cow mooing]

[cow continues mooing]

[Henry] Make her stop.

Do something!

[gun c*cks]

[sighs]

[Wilfred grunts]

[car approaching]

Good day, gents.

Hard choring this afternoon, is it?

It's my own damn fault.

One of our cows

fell in the old livestock well.

- Is that so?

- Yes, it is.

Glass of lemonade, sheriff?

It's Arlette's.

Did she decide to come back now?

No. She took her favorite clothes but...

she left the lemonade.

Henry, go in our house,

- get the... sheriff a glass.

- Yes, sir. Yeah.

Come on up, get some shade.

Shade sounds good,

but I believe I'll stand.

Rate this script:4.0 / 1 vote