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I don't know, Ben, I'm still not sure I ought to take this trip.

Oh, come on now, Goodman.

You asked me for the money to buy a new press

and you've been running hot and cold ever since.

A new press isn't going to do me any good

if I get back here and there's no newspaper.

Oh, you'll only be gone, what, less than a week.

I just don't like the idea of turning it over

to some young reporter who is brash and hot-headed.

Now, look, I know he's young and he's cocky,

but I think he has every right to be.

He writes a whole lot better than most people I've come across,

and he's a good newspaperman.

Well, I don't know about newspapering, Pa,

but he sure tells great stories.

He sure does.

Well, now, Smiley used to keep this little beast

in a little lattice box.

Every once in a while, he'd fetch him into town

and lay for a bet.

Well, one day, a fella...

Now, he was a stranger in camp, he was.

He saw him with this little box and he said...

"Say, what have you got there in that there box?"

Well, Smiley, he just sort of indifferent like, says,

"Well, could be a parrot.

"Then, again, it could be a canary, maybe.

"But it ain't.

"It's only just a frog."

- Well, Sam. - Well, Mr. Cartwright, Jamie.

Mr. Clemens. Hey, Petey.

How you doing? Good to see you.

Thank you.

Tell him about the frog.

Well, uh, we'll get back to him.

Now, listen, you make sure that these papers

get to the proper saloons.

- See you later. - Okay, Petey.

Jamie, my friend, I hope you've been takin'

all my advice seriously.

Now, always obey your pa... When he's present.

And always do right, 'cause it amazes most people.

Well, I try.

- Oh, I got something to show you. - What's that?

How does it look, pretty official?

Samuel Clemens, Editor Pro Tem.

Yeah, it looks pretty official.

It kind of surprises me, though, Sam.

Knowin' you, I figured you'd be usin' much bigger type.

Well, I guess I was born modest.

Oh, yeah.

Not all over, but in spots.

But, listen, why don't we celebrate on it?

Why don't we have a drink?

Uh, yeah, I'll have a little short one.

Yeah.

Well, I only drink myself to prevent toothache.

I never had one, but I don't want to take any chances.

- Hey, Campbell. - Huh?

How about running over to the Silver Dollar

and, uh, bringin' us back a bottle of whiskey?

Oh.

Oh, well, what will I use for...

Oh, I'm sure Mr. Cartwright has the money handy.

All right, Mr. Campbell, here. That ought to do it.

I'll bring you back your change.

Uh, bring back the best whiskey.

- For Mr. Cartwright. - Oh, naturally.

Naturally.

Sam, I sure appreciate your talent with a bottle.

How you do as an editor?

Well, I think I'm doin' all right, considering it's my first day.

What's this?

"How to steal with government help."

This another one of your funny stories, Sam?

"It's about time somebody around these parts

"started asking questions of Mr. H.V. Prentiss...

"Our distinguished government assayer.

"It seems kind of strange that in less than a year,

"five new graves have been added to the Virginia City Boot Hill,

"and some awfully good friends of Mr. Prentiss have filed rich claims."

Sam Prentiss has been a respected member of this community

for more than 20 years,

and you're saying he's involved in claim-jumping and murder?

Well, "involved" is a kinda fancy word, but it covers it.

Now, Sam, that can't be true.

It just can't be true.

Now, how... How could you print a story like this?

Why, this'll ruin Goodman.

You... You better have the proof.

Hmm. Somebody must be getting a little touchy.

Well, it's nice to know people are readin' the papers.

Bert, another round of drinks.

No. No, not for me.

Well, I don't object to abstinence, in other people.

Bert, hold Mr. Cartwright's drink.

You know, Sam, that story you wrote for the Enterprise

got this whole town turned upside down.

Bert, maybe you ought to tell Mr. Cartwright about that.

See, I used to have a cabin on Jackass Hill.

He thinks there's some connection.

Where did you get that information for this story?

Right over there.

From a man standing at the bar who was pretty upset about it.

You know, sometimes drinking can be a big help.

You're a lot more apt to get the truth out of a man in his cups

than a sober citizen.

How do you know this is the truth?

A newspaperman has to have a nose for things like that, Mr. Cartwright.

If he doesn't, he ought to buy himself a pick and shovel.

And I was told he was a very reliable citizen.

All right, who is this reliable citizen?

Never mind who.

Anyway, he told me that an old miner staked out a claim right next to his.

Seems this old geezer had struggled all the way through

all the rat holes in the west, and he finally struck it rich.

Got so excited, he wrote his wife to come on with the kids.

Then he went over to Mr. Prentiss at the assay office

to register his claim.

It's the last anybody ever saw of him.

And a couple of days later,

that same claim was filed in the name of a Mr. Jack McNabb.

Jack McNabb?

He... He's a dealer at the Lucky Nugget,

when he works at all.

Been a lot of other interesting claims here, Mr. Cartwright.

Billy Mulligan, Joe McGee, Hank Farmer, Jack Williams...

Now, not one of those men would know gold

if he ran across it in his own teeth.

Well, that still doesn't implicate Prentiss.

I did a lot more checking as a reporter.

Would you say that H.V. Prentiss was a big spender?

- Well, he's careful with his money. - Careful?

There isn't a man alive who can remember

when he bought anybody a drink.

And he just bought a brand-new spread

and he paid for it in cash.

Well, I admit, that does sound strange.

But I still think you should have had real proof

before you printed it in the paper.

There are five unmarked graves in Virginia City Boot Hill.

One for each claim.

Now, how many more you want me to wait for?

Sam, you owe me a responsibility.

I guaranteed your job.

Mr. Cartwright, I'm very grateful to you,

but I don't tell you how to run the Ponderosa.

'Cause I wouldn't know one end of a calf from the other,

and that's what you know about the newspaper business.

Sam Clemens.

I had no problem figurin' out where to find you.

Hello, Clem.

Glad to see you, Sheriff.

I'm glad you dropped by.

You saved me a trip.

I'd like to swear out a complaint against H.V. Prentiss,

Jack McNabb, and Hank Farmer.

For what?

For destruction of Territorial Enterprise office,

and intent to do bodily harm.

I won't even bring up interfering with freedom of the press.

But they didn't have anything to do

with smashing up the newspaper office.

Now, what makes you so sure of that?

Because I just came from the people who did.

Prentiss has a lot of friends in this town

who are pretty upset with what you wrote about him.

- Good, decent citizens. - Oh, decent, yeah.

I use words, they use rocks.

I've got a subpoena for you.

Prentiss is suing you for libel.

$10,000? Is that all?

Well, we'll, uh...

I'll... I'll talk to Prentiss and see if I can straighten it out.

There's no way we can straighten it out

unless he signs a full confession.

Now, don't look so worried.

How can I lose to a darn fool who thinks I have $10,000?

The libel suit of H.V. Prentiss versus the Nevada Territorial Enterprise

and Samuel Clemens, Editor, for $10,000 is now in session.

Gonna take a long time to pay that off at $5 a week.

Mr. Clemens, the Territorial Enterprise is also liable.

Well, now, we've got some visitors.

Overnight miners.

McNabb, Farmer, Mulligan, McGee, and Williams.

They're a real American success story.

Are the attorneys ready to proceed with the picking of a jury?

- We are, Your Honor. - We are, Your Honor.

Mr. Caldwell, are you acquainted with the defendant, Mr. Samuel Clemens?

I know him.

I met him when he first came to Virginia City.

You know him well?

No, not very well.

Have you read the vicious, slanderous story...

Objection. Slander has not been proved.

Objection sustained.

I'll rephrase it. Uh...

Have you read any of the allegations against Mr. Prentiss

printed in the Territorial Enterprise?

Pretty hard not to.

If you didn't read 'em, you heard 'em all over town.

Sam Clemens called Prentiss a thief, and a lot more.

Excused. You may step down.

That's all right. I wouldn't want him on the jury anyway.

Of course I read the story.

How else would I know what's going on in town?

Your Honor, where are you gonna find anybody in Virginia City

who doesn't know about the story?

Unless he's deaf, or blind, or a nitwit.

Mr. Clemens, you're out of order.

Sam, I hired Osgood because he's the best lawyer in town.

Why don't you let him handle things?

He kinda worries me. He's not like most lawyers.

Keeps his hands in his own pockets.

Your Honor, would you inform the defendant

that it is customary to select jurors

with no previous knowledge of the case being tried?

Your Honor, the law says I'm entitled to a jury of my peers.

That means people who can read.

Mr. Clemens, I warn you.

Either you confine your editorials to your newspaper,

or I'll hold you in contempt.

- I'll tell you another thing. - Ah, Mr. Clemens, now that's enough.

Mr. Merrick, are you prepared to proceed with the case?

I am, Your Honor.

I would like to call Mr. Samuel Clemens

to the stand, please.

Too bad I'm not being tried for murder.

Based on the record around here, I'd be a lot more sure of an acquittal.

Mr. Clemens,

will you merely answer the counsel's questions?

Well, I'll try, Your Honor,

but sometimes things just sort of leak out of me, like the truth.

Your Honor, I would like to introduce into evidence

the March 6th issue of the Territorial Enterprise.

In the front page story, written by Mr. Clemens here,

my client, the plaintiff, is outrageously implicated

in fraud and no less than five murders.

Yeah, well, now, about that, Your Honor,

there might have been more.

- Five was all I could put my finger on. - Mr. Clemens.

The Court will not tolerate any further accusations against Mr. Prentiss.

Now, Mr. Clemens, in your pre-trial deposition here,

you state that the basis for that whole pack of lies

was the babblings of a man you met in the Silver Dollar Saloon.

Now, hold on a minute. He wasn't babbling.

He was a concerned citizen

who was worried about what's goin' on in this town.

Well, may we have the name of this public spirited citizen?

I can't give you that.

Mr. Clemens, are you afraid that if you gave us the name of this man,

your whole story would be exposed as a tissue of lies?

No, there's a lot more to it than that.

Now, ever since the early Egyptians were writing on papyrus,

it's been an unwritten law

that a newspaperman doesn't have to reveal

where he gets his story.

You seem to be quite an expert on the unwritten laws,

but not the written ones.

Well, it stands to reason nobody's gonna tell a story

to a newspaperman in confidence

if he can get yanked into court the next day.

Mr. Clemens, even if you refuse to give us the name of this man,

don't you suppose that this very concerned citizen

would show up here on his own, voluntarily?

Not if he knows where his head ought to be.

The moment he came through that door,

his life wouldn't be worth a plugged nickel.

Mr. Clemens, then your entire defense

is based on the hearsay of a man that you refuse to name,

if he exists at all.

I don't need anybody to back me up.

Why, when my lawyer gets Mr. Prentiss

and his cronies up here on the stand,

even you might be a little embarrassed.

Your Honor, would you please remind the defendant

and his learned counsel that Mr. Prentiss and the other men named

in that outrageous story are not on trial here.

They do not have to testify as witnesses.

Objection, Your Honor.

I must call these men.

Mr. Clemens wrote this story by himself.

I don't see he has any right to ask for help.

Objection denied.

No more questions, Mr. Clemens.

Gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict?

We have, Your Honor.

What is your verdict?

We think Mr. Prentiss is entitled to the $10,000.

Some of us think it should have been more.

I have something to add to the jury's verdict.

Mr. Clemens has made a lot of speeches

about the rights of the press.

Well, citizens have rights, too.

The Court orders him to print an immediate retraction

in the next issue of the Territorial Enterprise.

Court is adjourned.

That's not surprising. He didn't have a chance

of winning without that man's testimony.

I told him that. Osgood told him that.

He just won't listen to anybody.

That man likes being in trouble. He enjoys it.

- Yeah. - Well, I hope you're proud

of your brilliant young editor.

Tell him he'd better be careful about what he prints, though,

because next time there won't be a libel suit.

Say, Mr. Cartwright, you know that picture

of Justice holding up the scales, blindfolded?

Why, I finally know where they got that idea from.

Virginia City.

Welcome.

Have a drink to celebrate the wisdom of the courts.

No, thank you.

Well, all right.

I'll save it for a man who appreciates good whiskey.

I assume you've been in touch with Mr. Goodman?

Well, I figured he was entitled to know.

I sent him a wire.

I hope you apologized for your strange selection of editors.

Hope you explained to him that the good seed went wrong

despite all your tender ministrations.

No, I explained that Osgood was appealing the decision,

and that if he loses, I'll be responsible for the 10,000.

Now, how did they ever pack so much nobility into one man?

Sam, that sounds like whiskey talkin'.

I only wish it were true.

What you hear is outrage...

Laced with small parts of alcohol.

Well, I figured I'd better come by

and take a look at that retraction for tomorrow's paper.

Oh, sure. Here it is.

Fresh from my fertile mind.

I hope it meets with your approval.

It, uh, falls just short of bestowing sainthood.

"The Editor of the Territorial Enterprise wishes to

"publicly apologize for impugning the reputation

"of a beloved public servant, H.V. Prentiss,

"and such fine pillars of the community

"as Jack McNabb, Hank Farmer..."

Sam, that's laying it on a bit too thick.

Well, I figure if you're gonna be a boot-licker,

you might as well go all the way.

I don't think the idea is to make them a laughingstock.

Now, no, you don't, Mr. Cartwright.

You may own a lot of acres,

but you don't rewrite Sam Clemens.

"The editor of the Territorial Enterprise

"apologizes for bringing unjust allegations

"against H.V. Prentiss, the government assayer,

"and such citizens as Jack McNabb, Hank Farmer,

"Joe McGee, Billy Mulligan, Jack Williams.

"We hope they will accept this apology without rancor."

That better?

I think it's closer to what the court had in mind, yes.

Thank you very much for coming all the way into town

to check up on me.

Sam, I'm not against you.

If Prentiss is guilty,

we'll do anything we can to help you prove it.

But in the meantime, people keep disappearing.

Well, thanks for droppin' by.

I'll see you tomorrow.

Sure. You keep that watchful eye.

Sam, I'd better have the retraction if I'm going to reset the front page.

Campbell, do you know where a man's conscience is located?

It's in his stomach.

And if he does something that he feels is wrong,

it makes him sick.

Sam, we're going to miss the deadline.

You never mind the retraction. You print that.

Eh?

Oh, Sam, no. No, we can't print this.

Campbell, you're gonna print it, or I'm gonna print it.

All right. Now, Sam, we're gonna be in real trouble.

You know what the judge ordered.

You never mind the judge.

We'll worry about him tomorrow.

'Cause tonight, we're newspapermen.

But this is very strong medicine.

A good dose of truth really settles a man's stomach.

You shouldn't have done this, Sam.

You shouldn't have riled Judge Hale.

He wasn't on my side when he wasn't riled.

Well, the Enterprise will be closed

until Mr. Goodman gets back and settles things.

Most of you should get your jobs back in about a week.

Come on, Riverboat.

Well, now, there's no need for long faces.

People are always trying to fight the press.

They only win temporarily.

Mr. Clemens, what am I gonna tell my ma?

Well, Petey, you tell your ma

that you printed the most important story of the year

and show her you earned an unexpected vacation.

Hey, thanks a lot, Mr. Clemens.

Well, gentlemen, what do you say we celebrate

my remarkable rise from affluence to poverty?

'Mornin', Bert.

Ah, Sam, I hear you having a little trouble.

Newspaper shot out from under you?

No, no, just went lame for awhile.

How 'bout a round of drinks for everybody and put it on my tab.

I'm sorry, Sam, no more tabs. Not when you're out of work.

Yeah, I'd settle five cents on the dollar with these tabs.

Oh, Bert, I'm real disappointed in you.

Nobody's closer to human suffering than a bartender.

Now, if you don't want to bring a disgrace to your profession...

Bert, put it on my tab.

It'll be our pleasure to buy Mr. Clemens his last drink.

Fill 'em up.

Now, don't extend yourself, McNabb.

Oh, it's no trouble at all, Clemens.

Now, I know it's not smart to go lookin' for trouble

with the newspaper editor,

but then, uh, I don't have to worry about that now, do I?

I mean, you're out of a job.

To your good health.

Stand up.

Stand up like a man.

Here.

Let's see you shoot that,

like the way you've been shooting off your mouth.

You've got about three seconds.

You got longer than that.

McNabb, you got some beef, why don't you take it up

with the sheriff, legally?

Still protecting your bright little boy, huh?

Well, we can wait.

Yeah.

Big Daddy ain't gonna always be around. No, siree.

Come on.

Well, I sure am glad you dropped by, Mr. Cartwright.

Boy, you couldn't have picked a better time.

Bert, a round of drinks on Mr. Cartwright.

No drinks.

Well, now, don't be upset.

I wouldn't let McNabb get under my skin.

Why didn't you print that retraction you showed me last night?

Well, I got to thinkin' about it,

and I didn't figure it was right to confuse people.

So you just shut down the paper, huh?

Yeah, temporarily.

I think a newspaper ought to shut down if it can't tell the truth.

Might make a better general store.

What am I supposed to tell Mr. Goodman?

You tell him you made a mistake.

You thought running a newspaper was kinda like a pink tea party.

You step on somebody's toes with a story,

you're supposed to curtsy and say I'm sorry.

I didn't say you were wrong. I just asked you to wait.

And in the meantime, I'm supposed to glorify Prentiss and a pack of killers?

Now, I couldn't do that when I was a printer's devil!

I'm sorry if I've endangered the Cartwright position

as a sacred cow in this community.

But if you don't like it,

you should have gotten yourself another editor!

One who can write about the birth of a foal on the Ponderosa.

That way, you wouldn't have any trouble at all.

Very funny.

Well, these gentlemen don't seem to understand newspapermen.

Why don't we have a drink with somebody who does?

Uh, Sam, what am I gonna do with these?

Bert, you save 'em for a better day.

Well, I could've told you, you couldn't talk any sense into him.

Well, we sure could buy a lot of cattle with all that money.

Boys, I'd like you to follow Sam, keep an eye on him.

Why? What for?

It's just gonna be one saloon after another.

McNabb's over there,

still waitin' to get a crack at him.

Just see that he doesn't.

Where you goin'?

I'll, uh... I'll find you later.

Hey, Bert, uh, give me a whiskey, will you?

A little something to calm you down after the fracas?

Oh, that wasn't anything. Just a friendly argument.

Well, if that was friendly,

I sure don't want to be around when you people get mad.

No, really, it wasn't anything.

Oh, I... I came back to...

I want to pay Sam's tabs.

All of them?

You know, Mr. Cartwright, old Sam does a lot of talking,

and when he gets to talking, he gets powerful thirsty.

$15, $17...

All these big parties?

Well, no, not all of them.

Some of them were for two people.

Now, that one for $17,

that goes back to Thursday or Friday, I think.

Old Sam stood there talking for hours with this miner.

That fella seemed real upset about somethin'.

You recall who it was?

Hmm, no. Uh, I don't think I'd remember.

Sounded like, uh, Hodges.

Oh, now I remember. It was Hutchins.

Dan Hutchins was his name.

Dan Hutchins.

Total these up, will you?

Oh, I got the total exactly. It's 78.25.

Uh, Sam always adds 10% for the tip.

All right. Here. Here. That should cover everything.

Thank you, Mr. Cartwright.

I sure hope this is worth it to you.

I think it is.

Back. Back.

Dan?

Dan Hutchins?

Now, he was an honest lad...

Full of great sorrow, though, and a bit confused.

You see, he was from Arkansas...

And as everybody knows...

His whole state was destroyed by mosquitoes.

His delusion was that

the Arkansas mosquito was the most ornery of all mosquitoes.

He's ornery,

but he isn't nearly as ornery as a Lake Province mosquito.

I know, one of my best friends who never lies, told me.

Two Lake Province mosquitoes can whip a dog.

Four of 'em can hold a man down and they'll kill him

if he doesn't scream for help soon enough.

"They butcher him," is the phrase my friend used.

He told me he'd seen 'em try to vote.

Well, I admit it did put a little strain on my imagination.

He did modify it a bit.

He said that he wasn't exactly sure of the particulars,

but he was sure. He was sure...

That he'd seen them around the polls a few times.

Canvassing.

Oh!

A pilot!

A riverboat pilot once told me a story.

I know it's true, 'cause he never lied to me.

Uh-oh, I think we're getting back to the alligator.

You could never manage to go down the river

without running on an alligator.

He used to be able to steer right to the best alligator water

and slide right on through

without ever hitting an alligator, and he seldom even woke one up.

$1,000 a month.

They paid that man $1,500.

He got a raise.

But it was worth it.

Good night, boys.

I enjoyed your company...

About as much as two rattlers.

Now, like all good Americans,

I reserve the right to pick my own sleeping partners.

Well, you just get some rest. Don't worry about us.

Pretend we're not here.

We'll just hang around for a little while, all right?

Look, I don't need your protection.

Besides, nobody's come near me except you two!

And that's the way Pa wants it.

Why, I talked myself blue in the face to get Pa to listen,

and now, suddenly, Pa decides he's all worried about me.

Well, I don't need his help.

You get a good night's sleep.

You'll feel a lot better in the morning.

There are few things harder to put up with

than the annoyance of a good example.

See, people are complaining.

You're probably keepin' 'em all awake.

Well, maybe you can get 'em out of here.

- Now they're homesteadin'. - Sam.

That miner who told you about Prentiss,

was it Dan Hutchins?

Why?

Now, come on, now, Sam, was he your informant?

What difference does it make?

Anyway, why should I tell you what I wouldn't tell the court?

Because if it was Dan Hutchins, then your story was true.

Somebody killed him before I could get to him.

Can't we stop off for a bit of the hair of the dog?

Sam, just as soon as the judge gives us the court order,

you can have all the drinks you want.

Mr. Cartwright, that judge isn't gonna help us,

not after he ruled against me.

He'd be thrown off the bench for behavin' like a human being.

Pa can handle Judge Hale.

Now, you've got to remember

the name of the miner who disappeared.

Didn't Hutchins tell you his name?

Yeah, he mentioned it several times.

Foreign name.

Well, what is it?

Well, a drink would jog my wits.

Well, just a minute now.

Come on, this way.

Is it a French name?

Or Italian?

No, it's nothin' like that.

It started with a "B."

That's it. Jan Boros.

You sure?

Sure as I'll ever be at this hour.

Boros.

Ben, what you're asking is highly unusual.

That's the one thing any judge is always afraid of is the unusual.

He hasn't got a precedent to go on.

He just wraps himself in his robes and disappears.

I don't feel I have the right to interfere with the public mails.

What did I tell you?

Now, look, Dan Hutchins was the only witness

that could have corroborated Sam's story.

Now, he was killed. He was murdered

because somebody was afraid of what he might say.

Maybe his murder had nothin' to do with that.

Maybe his mule drew a bead on him.

If you'd have stood up in court

and given us Hutchins' name the way you should've,

maybe this wouldn't have happened.

No, he'd have been murdered a lot sooner.

There's no point in going into bygones, is there?

Now, all we're asking for is a court order

to go through the unclaimed letters at the post office.

It's the only way we can prove

that a miner by the name of Jan Boros disappeared.

What makes you so sure there's a letter?

Well, Dan Hutchins told Sam

that Boros, when he made his rich strike,

wrote a letter to his wife,

sayin' that he was gonna send for her and for the kids.

Now, the odds are, she'd have written him back.

That letter's probably just sitting there, waitin'.

You'd do anything to back up Sam.

There's murder and claim-jumping involved.

All right, Ben...

I'll make a deal with you.

Your lawyer's appealing my decision.

That's not gonna make me look good in Carson City.

I'll give you the court order.

But if you don't find that letter, you drop the appeal.

Well, uh...

If we don't find any real evidence, you got yourself a deal.

Good thing you came when you did, Mr. Cartwright.

We were gonna send a lot of this stuff back.

Don't keep anything over six months.

Here's the last of 'em.

Thank you.

You got anything?

Well, there's nothin' here even close to, um, Boros.

Are you sure you got that name right?

Yeah, it's the right name.

Wish it was Jones or Thompson. I got a fistful of those.

Well...

Nothin' here.

Thanks for letting us waste your time.

Thank you.

Bert, make that round of drinks on me.

You mean, on your tab?

No, I'll pay for it in cash.

I always keep a little bit around for emergencies.

Sort of a sinking fund.

I wouldn't believe that if I didn't see it with my own eyes.

To you, Mr. Cartwright.

Any man deserves your respect.

- Hmm. - I'll drink to that.

Well, for what?

For coming up with a plan that didn't work?

Well, Mr. Cartwright, I had you pegged all wrong.

I knew you were a decent sort of fella,

and you give a square deal with the hands on the Ponderosa.

Keep a watchful eye on things in Virginia City,

in a fatherly sort of way...

Anything to keep up that shiny Cartwright reputation.

But you're a lot better than that.

You'll plow right in and get a little dirty

if it's something important.

Sam, that's quite a speech you just made.

Well, I just want you to know I'm grateful.

You made a lot of enemies around here in Virginia City,

all on account of me.

Yeah.

H.V. Prentiss isn't about to invite you to supper.

No.

Oh, and Judge Hale isn't exactly fond of you, either.

Well, he'll feel a whole lot better about it

when I tell him I'm dropping the appeal.

Let's have another round of drinks

and figure out how to beat the old goat.

Well, I can't do that.

Sam, you're a bigger fool than I am.

Now, when you pick up your mail, do you go to the post office?

No, I come right here to my favorite saloon.

That's right.

Bert... can I see that mail?

Oh, there's nothin' here for Sam, Mr. Cartwright.

Nobody'd be writin' you at the Silver Dollar.

That's true, but I have a court order here

giving me permission to look over any unclaimed mail for Jan Boros.

Oh, I'll take your word for it, Mr. Cartwright.

Let's see now.

No... Oh, here's one from Olathe, Kansas.

"Jan, my dearest,

"it was wonderful to read the good news.

"The children are very excited.

"They tell everyone their father has found

"the richest mine in the State of Nevada.

"Jimmy had a cold...

"It's taken a long time, but I never gave up hope.

"You were wearing my wedding band,

"and I knew it would bring good luck."

Now, let's go over and rub Judge Hale's nose in it.

You're gonna have to be very nice to Judge Hale, Sam.

You're gonna have to tie and gag him if you expect him to do it.

Why do I have to be so gosh darn polite?

We got the letter!

This letter doesn't prove any murder.

We're gonna have to get permission from Judge Hale to...

To dig up Jan Boros' body.

How are we gonna find it? There's five unmarked graves.

Only one with a woman's wedding band.

Let's go.

Better get this over with before the whole town

comes nosin' around to see what we're up to.

Can't make it too fast for me.

Where do you want to start?

Your guess is as good as mine.

Open up that one, boys.

There's nothin' to be afraid of.

Ben, I think this is a waste of time.

If he was wearin' the ring, like she said,

they'd have taken it off of him if it was worth anything.

I... I doubt it was worth very much.

It sure takes a lot of diggin'.

You all right?

Yeah, I'm all right.

Let me have that.

No ring.

Close it.

Wrong again. No, uh... No ring.

This could be a bad idea.

We're not through yet.

All right, come on, boys, keep moving.

It won't be long now. This is the last one.

Don't worry about me, Pa. I'm fine.

The kid's real brave or he's a great liar.

We got it.

That's all we need. Close it.

Pa!

You want a shot?

No, thanks.

I hit one of them. I think it was McNabb.

If he's hurt bad enough, he shouldn't be hard to find.

Sonny, fill up those graves!

This doesn't figure. Somebody ought to be here.

Doc Webb's too old to go out on calls at this hour.

Maybe there was an emergency.

Well, if it was an emergency,

you wouldn't call Doc Webb out of town.

He'd never make it.

Let's keep lookin'.

McNabb's not over at Doc Baldwin's.

Doc got mad at me for wakin' him up.

We left Jamie off over at the hotel.

Good.

Well, there are only two doctors in town.

He'd be at one or the other. He's not up there.

Well, maybe I just didn't hit him as hard as I thought.

I can't do anything without light.

You'd better do it without light.

For God's sake, man, let him get the bullet out.

Don't worry, Jack, it won't take much longer.

What'd you find out in the saloons?

Nobody knows anything about McNabb or any of his friends.

Did you check the backrooms?

Sheriff, I checked places you've never even heard of.

Do you mind if I sit down?

Oh, it's no use.

You'd better get some rest. I'll set up a roadblock.

Oh, get me a drink, will ya?

Later.

I... I can't hold out much longer.

Take it easy, Jack.

It'll be a few more minutes. They're about ready to leave.

Hold everything right there!

- You all right, Doc? - I'm all right.

On your feet. Come on!

McNabb, are you gonna tell us all about Prentiss and the others

or are you gonna pay for this all by yourself?

I'll tell you anything, anything at all.

Only let him get the bullet out.

Well, all we have to do now is round up Mr. Prentiss.

I'll let you take care of this.

I've got things to do.

You can deduct the cost of that window

from my salary, Mr. Goodman,

if you have to.

Sam, I think the window was worth it.

You sure you won't stay with the Enterprise?

Can't be a general and then be demoted back into the ranks.

Thanks, Mr. Cartwright. It's been nice knowin' you,

even if I did raise your blood pressure a little.

Sam, what are you gonna do?

Well, I guess I'll poke my nose into other people's business,

like I always do.

Then I'll write about it and maybe somebody'll be interested.

- Well, I'll see you. - Hey, where's your bags?

- I'll give you a hand with 'em. - No, I always travel light.

Most people think I'm smoking too much,

but I'm just movin'.

Take care.

Jamie, I almost forgot, I have a story for you.

I haven't got time to tell it to you, but maybe you'll take this.

Thanks, Mr. Clemens.

"The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County."

Well, this isn't your story. It says it's by Mark Twain.

Well, a writer has to have a lot of names so he'll be protected.

Stage, pulling up!

Better get going. I'll see you.

- Bye, Sam. - Good luck.

Come on, are you comin'?

- Bye, Sam. - Bye.

You'll get used to it.