The Man from Laramie Page #4

You act like Alec was your own

father, instead of your boss.

He's using you just

like he used my father.

When he no longer needs you, he'll

drop you like an ordinary cowhand.

Alec wouldn't do that to me.

He knows if Dave were on his

own, the Barb would fall apart.

Does Dave know that?

Alec won't be around forever.

Then where would you be?

Alec and me talked that over.

When his time comes, he's leaving

the Barb to Dave and me.

That's the same promise

he made my father.

If he broke his word with his own brother,

what can you, a stranger, expect?

Your father was an

easy man. I'm not.

No one's breaking his word with me.

This is no place for us. I want to

leave and I want you to leave with me.

- Where can we go?

- Anywhere.

That's the same as nowhere.

We've been over this before.

Here in Coronado,

we've got something.

Anywhere else we go, we're

a couple of nobodies.

You keep saying we've got

nothing if we leave.

If we have each other,

doesn't that mean anything?

I love you, Barbara, you know that.

But I've worked my whole

life for the Barb.

I've got sweat and

blood in that ground.

I'm not giving up

what's rightfully mine.

I know my uncle and my cousin.

Neither one will give up a foot

of ground without a fight.

I don't want to see you hurt, Vic.

Only you can hurt me.

I want to be your wife...

but if I can't get you to leave with me,

I won't stay here to become your widow.

I don't die so quick.

- What do you think of the Half Moon?

- What am I supposed to think?

It'll go a lot smoother

when you take over.

I'm hiring you to

be the new foreman.

Sounds fine, but I'm

not looking for a job.

Now you've made

enemies of the Barb...

you can't stay here and stand

up to them on your own.

The Barb's been giving

you trouble, too?

Trouble?

Twenty-eight years I've been

battling Alec Waggoman.

Keeping him from swallowing

up the Half Moon...

the way he swallowed up every

other piece of grazing land.

I'm at the point where I need help.

I'm sorry, Miss Canaday.

I'm not the man for you.

You ain't afraid of the Barb.

You proved that.

I've got no quarrel

with the Waggomans now.

They agreed to pay me for

my mules, my wagons...

You'll take the money and

let them run you out?

No, but I wouldn't be any

good for you. I'm no cowhand.

You're no muleskinner, either.

I can tell that from the

look of your hands.

Just what are you

doing here, Lockhart?

You might say on account of some

good wagons of mine that got burnt.

Or you might blame it on a rope

that dragged me through a fire.

But you'd be closer if you asked

me about my brother, just a kid.

I can't realise yet he's dead.

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