The Plainsman

Gentlemen,

the war is over at last.

The men are coming back.

The living are coming back.

We shall have

hundreds of thousands

of disbanded soldiers.

Idle men.

Men badly in need

of work, Mr. President.

Gentlemen, we have

the country to save fiirst.

But these men

have saved their country.

Now the country must save them.

Their return home

in such great numbers

might paralyze industry...

by furnishing suddenly a greater

supply oflabor than for which

there could be a demand.

Mr. President.

Mr. Colfax.

I have read an editorial

in the Terra Haute Express...

written by Mr.John Soule,

in which he says, ''Go west, young man.''

Where there is

room for all.

Gentlemen, our land

stretches from an Eastern sea

to a Western sea.

Surely, in that vast territory,

there is a place for men

to live and work and be happy.

Right,

Mr. President.

True, Mr. President.

I hope to attract our disbanded

soldiers to the hidden wealth

of our mountain ranges...

and to the wealth

that lies in the soil itself.

And to the grasslands

of the Great Plains.

The fields of Illinois,

the broken sod of Kansas,

the long furrows

of the West.

Yes, Mr. President,

but if only the frontier

could be made safe for the plow.

It must be made safe.

But during the war

hostile Indians massacred

our settlers there.

- Mr. Lincoln?

- Yes, Mary?

We'll be late

for the theater.

Gentlemen, I promised

to take Mrs. Lincoln

to Ford's Theater tonight.

We will continue this

tomorrow...

for the frontier

must be made safe.

Good night, Mr. President.

Good night.

Good night, Mr. President.

I have never seen him

looking so well.

But the war is over,

and we have on our hands

order after order...

canceled by

the government.

Hundreds of thousands

of rifles unsold.

Once we were the saviors

of our country.

Now we're outcasts.

Our money invested

in an unsalable product.

But a good product, gentlemen.

A new repeating rifle would have

made short work of the war...

had it been introduced earlier.

But now the subject of guns

is an unpopular topic...

to those who needed them

so badly a short while ago.

We'll have to look to Providence

for a market.

Providence? Where?

I've been told that the Indians

hunt with bow and arrow.

Still, they obtain furs,

valuable buffalo hides,

otter, fox and beaver.

With our new repeating rifle--

Dearie me.

Why shouldn't we be frank?

I have every reason

to believe the Indians

will pay $1 00 for each rifle.

A hundred dollars?

In furs. And a dollar a piece

for every cartridge.

But we can't sell rifles

to the Indians!

I think we can...

to peaceable Indians.

But how--

For hunting.

They furnish us with furs.

We supply them with rifles.

Really quite simple.

Won't they use those guns

against white men?

We'll get the Indians

to promise not to do so.

I'm against this!

But why?

It's bound to make trouble

on the frontier.

President Lincoln says--

We have a perfect right

to do it.

Sheer nonsense.!

The army would stop us.

They control trade

with the Indians.

They did, my friend.

But Indian affairs

have been taken out

of the hands of the army...

and given to

a civilian authority.

A civilian authority?

Yep,

in which we are to have

a certain participation.

Do I make myself clear?

Perfectly.

But who sells the rifles?

Ask Mr. Lattimer

to come in.

Perhaps not the most

personable gentleman...

but certainly

the man for our needs.

Gentlemen, this is

Mr.John Lattimer,

How do you do?

who will distribute our rifles

through St. Louis...

to Hays City and

all the Great Plains.

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