The War Wagon Page #3

Come on.

L ain't goin' no place. Let me alone.

Let me off, Mister. - Not yet, sonny.

- My head's splittin'.

Yuh stink!

Tell me kid, what are you good for?

Good for?

- You heard me.

Nothin'. L'm good for nothin'.

- L believe it. Taw must be loco.

Taw Jackson? Ls he out?

- We're on our way to join him.

Ooggone! Me and him spent two years

in prison together. - Heart-warming.

That means Taw must be ready to...

- Yes?

A thing we talked about.

Listen, mister, this has gone

far enough. Let me down.

L will, sonny, l will.

What did you do that for?

You share my horse, l want you sober.

And cleaner.

You can walk yourself dry.

Who's that?

The War Wagon.

- So that's it.

You in with Taw?

- More or less.

Then l reckon l can tell you

what l'm good for. Explosives.

Explosives?

Hammond and Brown get back?

- No, Sir. - What about Lomax?

Lomax? Not again.

Hello, Jackson.

Lt's Monday morning,

and l'm reporting in.

That's no concern of mine.

Tell the deputy or the sheriff.

Same thing, you own 'em.

- Alright, Taw, you're reported in.

L hear you're stayin' at my ranch.

- Lt used to be yours. Nice place.

L oughta know. L built it.

- And you did a real fine job.

L'll be out there one day this week.

- Thinkin' of tryin' to get it back?

Think about it all the time.

- You wouldn't stand a chance.

Tell you what l'll do for you, though.

L'll see that you get buried there.

Between then and now, l'm comin' out

to pick up my stuff. Lt still there?

How would l know?

- Oh,

it all disappeared, somehow.

- Ain't nothin' there belongs to you.

This man's wearin' my gun.

You're wrong. My Pa gave me this.

Lf you want it back, Taw,

why don't you take it away from him.

Lt's mine.

What's goin' on?

- Just collectin' somethin' of mine.

Who started it?

- L guess you could say l did.

The shells in here belong to him.

He can come and get them anytime.

Throw some water on 'em.

Taw!

L heard.

Hey, Taw!

- Hello, Billy. - How ya keepin'?

You look worse than you did in jail.

- Nothin' a drink wouldn't fix.

Got anything?

- He's a drunk. - He drinks.

Way he's been shakin', l wouldn't

trust him with a firecracker.

Ls that true, Billy?

- Some folks look at it that way.

But l'm alright, Taw. L can handle it.

There's a lot at stake here.

- L can handle it.

Good enough.

- L don't trust drunks.

Neither do l. But Billy stays here.

And there's nothing stronger than

that cowboy coffee you're drinkin'.

You're sure he knows explosives?

He handles them like you do a gun.

Hope you know what you're doin'.

That'll be Wes.

Come on, come on.

Sit down! - What's she doing here?

- She goes every place l go.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes