The Missouri Breaks Page #6

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I don't spend the time with them I should.

I'm of the opinion... I would only claim

books that was about right from wrong.

Otherwise how are we to find

our paradise among the stars?

True. Please.

Oh, sir. I'm sorry for your trouble.

I wasn't aware.

Gentlemen, Robert E Lee Clayton.

I understand that you hung a thief

and neglected to find out where they were

caching the stock. How was that?

He didn't wanna talk. He was about to die.

Oh, I see. Then you pampered him.

- No, sir!

- We hung that man.

Well, you pampered the man...

you pampered the man,

and the result of that

is the loss of this poor man's life!

- Please, this is outrageous.

- You, you, you...

Take your hands off!

Realise the fact that as a result of that

this poor man has lost his life.

If you'd invited me into the neighbourhood

before, it wouldn't have happened.

You've got to give me some thoughts.

I'm gonna turn my horse out.

Then I'll wash my body.

And, miss...

the only thing not on my diet

would be the green top of the beet

and okra.

Ladies and gentlemen, excuse me,

but I'm under a severe attack from a tooth.

Sir. Miss.

- Where'd he come from?

- What was all that about?

I got recommendations for this man from

all the Wyoming outfits he's worked for.

- I'm assured that he's a top regulator.

- Regulator?

- You mean you asked him up here?

- You're damn right I did.

They killed my ramrod

and I want them to pay for it.

I always wondered

what Lee Clayton looked like.

And smelled like.

I always figured him to be a little fella.

He's supposed to have a Creedmore rifle

he carries as a saddle gun.

Supposed to be able

to hit out to 500 yards.

- Oh, Mr Rate. 500 yards...

- I mean it.

He never carries a side arm,

so you know he's a dry-gulcher.

But he smells like a wet-gulcher

and he dresses like a clown.

He don't have no wife,

but he sure keeps himself spruced up.

Many a rustler has said his prayers when

he got a whiff of them lavender bath salts.

- Daddy, I wanna know how...

- Not now. Shh!

- Vern, scat. Out of here.

- You betcha. I will.

- Adios, buddies.

- Send you a postal card from Canada.

Cal, why can't I go to Canada?

You gotta tend to the cabin

in the breaks, Cary.

You don't hear Tom complainin'.

See you in a few weeks, Tom.

They'll be back, Buck.

Don't you worry about it.

Well, by gosh. Good mornin' to you, miss.

Good morning to you, Mr Logan.

You bought this place already, huh?

Yes, ma'am.

I guess that kinda

makes us neighbours, doesn't it?

- Where are you headed?

- Oh, I'm gonna go over on the table.

Well, may I accompany you?

No.

- Why not?

- No good reason. I don't want company.

Come on. Give me a chance.

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