Two Rode Together

Thank you, Jesu.

Senor, the widow Gomez

has delivered a son this morning.

A boy.

Bully for the widow Gomez.

But, senor, it has been

more than a year ago...

...since Senor Antonio Gomez

has been buried in the church house.

Well, there are some men you just can't

trust to stay where you put them.

You gamblers?

Just get off the stage?

You got eyes in your head, ain't you?

It's what I'm paid for.

Oh, the marshal, huh?

All right, now.

The stage is leaving

in about 15 minutes.

You fellas want a drink, there's

a cantina down the street a piece.

They're not too particular

about their customers.

- Look here, whatever your name is...

- The name's McCabe.

Guthrie McCabe.

We was just passing through.

Nice little town you have here.

Did you say they serve

good whiskey?

No.

Detail, ho!

- Hi, Jim.

- Hiya.

- How are things out at Fort Grant?

- Same as usual.

Who is it? Is that Sergeant Posey?

Sergeant Posey?

I hardly recognised you.

Haven't you put on some weight?

Well, that's a nice...

...dirty, thirsty-looking outfit

you got there, Jim.

- Forty miles.

- Forty miles, huh?

Hey, you men!

How about a nice cold beer?

As you were.

I haven't dismissed

the detail, sergeant.

No, sir.

And before I do, I want one thing

clearly understood.

We're riding out of here

in a couple of hours.

And I mean riding, not floating.

"Riding not floating," that's good.

I'm gonna use that.

And just because Marshal McCabe here

has been generous enough...

...to set us up to five or six beers...

- I didn't say five or...

...that's no reason to abuse

his hospitality.

- Hey, just one beer.

- I count on your discretion, sergeant.

That's all. Detail dismissed!

- Hiya, Guthrie.

- Oh, no. Oh, no.

What?

- Jim, good to see you.

- Good to see you.

- You know, l... No, wait a minute.

- What?

Jesu, fetch a ladder...

...so that Sergeant Posey can get up

on that poor, unfortunate animal.

By George, he made it.

Thank you, marshal.

It'll be a pleasure

drinking to your health.

Follow me!

Well, that was pretty funny, Jim.

But if you think I'm gonna ante up

for all the beer...

...that hippopotamus

of a sergeant can drink...

...between now and the time you leave,

you got two more things coming.

- You're up for re-election, aren't you?

- Sergeant Posey can't vote.

I bet he can't even make

his mark on the ballot.

- What about yourself? Want a beer?

- Yeah, sure.

I'll take this one. Cheers.

Now, Ward.

Ward, come here.

Oh, it's you, Mr. McCabe.

Was you calling my name?

Yeah, yeah.

I told you to take those drunks

over to the courthouse.

Yes, sir, Mr. McCabe,

that's what you told me...

...and that's what I done,

didn't I, fellers?

But it wasn't no use. No use at all.

Was it, fellers?

Well, now, Ward,

why wasn't it any use?

- Or am I supposed to guess?

- No, sir, Mr. McCabe.

Not that it calls for much guessing,

and that's a true fact.

Well, what it comes down to...

...is that the judge hisself

was drunk last night...

...and never even showed up

in court today.

And so as I see it,

they ain't but one thing to do...

...and that's just march

these fellers back to the jail...

...until the judge sobers up enough

to fine them legal and proper.

Now, come on, you fellers. Hurry up.

- One, two...

- Ward.

Turn them loose.

Now, you fellers listen to me.

By orders of Marshal McCabe,

I'm a-turning you loose.

Go on, you're loose!

You ain't turning us loose without

buying us a beer, are you, marshal?

You fellas don't mind drinking with

gamblers and fort soldiers, do you?

All right, Ward, buy them a beer

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