Cimarron Page #4

I never saw anything like it in my life.

I'm afraid they think my dress

is a little too elaborate.

Why, Milton would have no words

for such beauty.

Howdy, Cim.

He called you Cim.

- The boys are up to something.

- Who are they?

I can't say for sure, but I think

they're the ones that did Paigler dirt.

Paigler? Who's that?

Isn't that the editor?

The one who was found shot dead?

- You mean they did it?

- I don't say they did it, exactly.

They know more than is comfortable.

Still wearing that white hat, huh?

Who's that?

That's Lon Yountis.

Nothing to be alarmed about.

Don't be frightened, honey.

Stand right where you are.

The dirty scum.

Inside. Get out of here.

Half-circle cut.

You'll find that's the Cravat brand.

- Can't you take a joke, Yancey?

- Joke, nothing.

- lf your missus wasn't with you.

- Don't you "missus" me...

you dirty scum.

You're a lot of good for nothing louses,

that's what you are.

Shooting at people in the street.

You leave my husband alone.

- I declare, I've a notion to...

- Honey. Sabra.

Why, it'll be all over the Southwest...

that Yancey Cravat was hiding

behind a woman's petticoat.

But you didn't. They can't say so.

You shot him very nicely

in the ear, darling.

Well, you shouldn't interfere when men

are having a little friendly shooting.

Friendly?

A bullet within an inch of your head?

He knew where it was going.

Well, come on, sugar.

I think we better find that house

we're gonna live in, don't you?

Come on.

Down a little. A little more.

Now a little more. Hold!

Just nail it.

I'll bushwhack her.

- Well, honey, we're here.

- Yes, we're here.

We're getting started, too.

You know, when I think of those five years

in Wichita...

- I thought you liked it in Wichita.

- A prison cell, my pet.

Five years in one place,

that's the longest stretch I've ever done.

Five years.

Back and forth like a trail horse.

House, office, Venables, vegetables.

A little while, I'd have turned into either

a Venable or a vegetable, one or the other.

Well.

We better get this office

and print shop settled...

if you're ever gonna get out an issue

of that newspaper.

I guess Rickey can attend to it.

He's a printer and a darn good one.

I gotta see

about these real-estate transfers...

and write up some editorials and news...

and we got a clue

to the Paigler killer last night.

- I wanna follow it up.

- I wish you wouldn't.

If I can find out who killed Paigler...

I'm gonna print it in the first edition

of the Oklahoma Wigwam.

Well, did you see the...

Well, we got the shingle hung out all right,

Mrs. Cravat.

- Look fine, Miss Sabra.

- Come on, now, colored boy.

We'd better pitch in and unsnarl things.

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