Sunset in the West Page #5

Doc Jones can't tell us anything.

He's afraid to operate.

Hi, Sheriff.

Did you find out who he is, yet?

Yeah, says his name is John Smith.

John Smith?

Oh, that'd make his partner Pocahontas.

Yeah, that's right.

Sheriff?

What do you think that is?

It's grease.

Got a lot of graphite in it.

Probably off a train.

I don't think so.

Looks like that grease they pack

guns in to keep 'em from rusting.

Look.

I think those are

serial numbers from guns.

There's ten rifles in a case.

Gun runners.

Yeah.

That's why they emptied those cars.

To make room for the guns.

But, why would they put

the guns in the train?

It's the only way they can get 'em

to that lonely stretch of beach.

Sheriff's office. Osborne speaking.

It's Judge Reedy.

Listen, Tad.

You've got a prisoner there,

but you're not going

to be able to hold him.

I just signed a court order

releasing him.

- Stall him.

- Yeah.

Uh, Judge, can you hold it up a while?

Can't do it, Tad.

I set bail for $5,000 and it came up.

Cash on the barrel head.

Who put it up, Judge?

Wouldn't do any good to tell ya.

He'll be there in three minutes.

Oh, alright Judge, I'll do as you say.

Three minutes.

Three minutes?

That doesn't give us much time.

Somebody sure is anxious to get

that prisoner out of there.

At least we're going to find out

who's putting up the money.

What are you doing, Dixie?

Well, we want to find out who

the prisoner is, don't we?

Hey, that's a pretty good idea.

No, this guy's too good looking.

Give me one that looks like an Airedale.

You know, I studied art once.

Oh, those models. But, I had to give it up.

- I couldn't keep my mind on my work.

- I couldn't keep my mind on my work.

Hey, maybe Dixie's got an idea.

Only we can use it in reverse.

Use your keys.

Now what?

Let's see what he looks like

with those whiskers off.

C'mon, Splinters. You've got a

customer who wants a shave.

Oh, this is going to be

a real pleasure.

You can't take me outta here.

Not until I'm bailed out!

Now, don't worry.

I'm the best barber in East Park.

You can't do this! It ain't legal!

Yeah, and neither is pistol

whipping a hound dog.

Sheriff, who ever's bringing

that court order, stall 'em.

- We'll need a little more time.

- All right.

C'mon, boys.

Here, get busy.

Oh, yeah.

Jesus, Sheriff, get up!

Viva, viva! Bravo, Seorita.

Come to my cantina,

we'll give you a job.

- Now, Sheriff, let's get down to business.

- Here, have a cigar.

Oh, gracias, Seorita.

Nick has big surprise for you.

Going to have a coming out party.

Coming out of where?

Coming out from the cell,

like cuckoo from the cocoons.

Taking off like...

butterflies.

Eh, court order, huh?

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