McLintock! Page #4

About that job, Mr. McLintock.

I already told you, son.

I've got no need for farmers...

- or use for them.

- Just one minute, Mr. McLintock.

My father died last month.

That's how come we lost our homestead.

I've got a mother and a little sister to feed.

I need that job badly.

- What's your name?

- Devlin Warren.

You've got a job, son.

See my home ranch foreman,

he's over at the corral.

Step down off of that carriage, mister.

Hold that hogleg!

I've been punched many a time in my life,

but never for hiring anybody.

I don't know what to say.

I never begged before. Turned my stomach.

I suppose I should have been grateful

you gave me the job.

Gave? Boy, you got it all wrong.

I don't give jobs. I hire men.

You intend to give this man

a full day's work, don't you, boy?

You mean you're still hiring me,

Mr. McLintock?

Well, yes, sir. I mean,

I'll certainly deliver a fair day's work.

For that I'll pay you a fair day's wage.

You won't give me anything,

and I won't give you anything.

We both hold up our heads.

Where do you live?

The settlers' encampment,

down by the mine.

- That's your plug?

- Yes, sir.

Well, hop on him,

and we'll go get your gear.

- Morning, Mr. McLintock.

- Morning, Mr. Pourboire.

I'm sure that all you fine people

are interested in knowing...

just what portion of this new land

will be your new home.

Jones and McAIlister, since you've been

more or less the leaders of our group...

I'd like to have you come up

and check the exact location.

Won't be a minute, sir.

Go after that boy and give him $30.

Tell him McLintock

pays his riders a month in advance.

From the looks of things,

they can sure use it, too.

Mom, it's Mr. Drago.

Morning.

Well, and to what do we owe this visit

from the cattle baron?

I've got a touch of hangover, bureaucrat.

Don't push me.

McLin.

Say, those are Indians.

- Are there Indians in this homestead land?

- Friendly Indians, my boy.

- McLin.

- Running Buffalo.

McLin, long time we no get drunk together.

And it's gonna be a lot longer time...

'cause it's against the law,

and you're with the Sheriff.

And have I got my hands full.

They came into town to meet the train.

The old Indian chiefs are coming home.

I heard they'd been pardoned.

They don't know when it's arriving.

This week, next week, or next month.

So in the meantime,

I've got to do something with them.

Could I cut out a couple of head

of your steers to feed them?

Otherwise, some of these settlers' milk cows

are going to disappear.

- That's right, McLin.

- Cut out whatever you need.

Sheriff, are you gonna camp

these savages with all these settlers?

You're asking for trouble.

Rate this script:4.0 / 1 vote