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Skin that Smoke wagon and see what happens. Jerk that pistol and go to work. Tyler goes pale, all pretense of courage gone. Wyatt slaps him again. Another slap. Tyler stays frozen, blood dripping down his chin. Tyler's done. Wyatt plucks his gun away, handing it to Joyce. Here, Milt. Keepsake, hang it over the Bar. All right, youngster. Out You go Wyatt takes Tyler by the ear, dragging him across the room like an unruly child. At the door he gives the ear a twist. Tyler winces.

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Wyatt walks up to his brothers at the corner. Just Acquired us a quarter-interest in The game at the Oriental. Down the block, unseen by the Earps, a wild-eyed Tyler is advancing on them with a sawed-off shotgun. He is within 20 feet when suddenly: O. Tyler spins around to see Doc standing in a doorway, smiling. Tyler freezes. I didn't know you were in town.

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Wyatt spots Doc and walks up, brothers in tow. Though they don't so much as shake hands, we sense a strong bond between the 2 men. How the hell are you? DOC Perfect, Wyatt. Simply perfect. Wyatt Earp? Wyatt just got us a Faro game. DOC Since when is faro a business? DOC I said poker's an honest trade. Only suckers buck the tiger. The Odds are all with the house. I Mean it's not like anybody's Holding a gun to their heads. He can talk himself into anything. They laugh. Frozen there. Tyler begins to tremble. You can go now. Just Leave the shotgun.

Tyler scuttles off as Behan approaches affably. Doc sniffs. DOC Forgive me if I don't shake hands. But I was thinkin', You know what this town really Needs is a race track. DOC Little ahead of yourselves, Aren't you? This is just a mining Camp. Awfully Toney for a mining camp. And just as sophisticated. DOC I can hardly wait. Everyone ducks.

More GUNFIRE as a man holding a bloody hand to his throat reels out the door of the nearby Crystal Palace, his gun firing wildly like a sputtering engine before he pitches face first onto the sidewalk, dead. A crowd forms as the drunk raises his pistol, bellowing.


DOC turns to Behan Very cosmopolitan. That's Creek Johnson.

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Private affair Right about there. The drunk drops in a heap. Hiya Doc! Crawfished a bet, called Him a liar.

I saw the whole thing. Watch your ear, Creek.

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Doc points to his bloody ear. Johnson touches it, sees the blood, gives a silent start. Just then White arrives, looking weary, facing Johnson and Vermillion. We were legal. Gotta take you Before Judge Spicer. They look. A stagecoach stops in the street. She and Wyatt spot each other instantly, both impressed. There's a show tonight at Schieffelin Hall. Maybe we'll see you there. White leads them off to jail.

Wyatt and Josephine hold each other's gaze as the coach drives on. I Wonder who that tall man was.

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Long and Lean. And those gray eyes. Like a Wild hawk. You see quite a few of His type out here. A fat, well-dressed easterner with a newspaper sits nearby, ignoring her. Seeing this from outside, McMasters instantly barges into the lobby, hoists the easterner out of his chair, and hurls him bodily out into the street.

Josephine nods her surprised thanks. McMasters tips his hat shyly, exits as the 1st actress returns with her key. They exchange looks Sit here, Billy. Curly Bill beckons. Happy as a lark, Breakenridge takes the seat next to him.

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We haven't Been to a show since years. Doc enters, Kate on his arm. The women exchange uneasy nods. DOC Kate, you know the Earps.

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CLUM Your reputation precedes you. Nice meetin' you. Wild one. Florentino's Mex-breed. They all Hate Mex, but he hates 'em Special. Johnny Barnes, Frank Stillwell. That's Behan's little Deputy, Billy Breakenridge. Follows the Cowboys around like a Puppy. Best Gun alive they say.