11.
The man shakes his head.
JAMES DILLARD (CONT’D)
Best bet’s the Calhoun. The manager hands him four numbers branded into leather squares. LIVERY MANAGER You’re seventy-seven, eight, nine, and eighty. Hands him another patch of leather, this one a circle with an H branded in the middle. LIVERY MANAGER (CONT’D)
For the wagon. If you ain’t settled up in thirty days, everything goes to auction. JAMES DILLARD What’s the rule about firearms in this town? LIVERY MANAGER This place’ll pick you clean if you ain’t got one. But if you pull your
pistol in this town, mister ... You’d better know how to use it. James pulls his shotgun from the wagon and walks down the street ... EXT. STREET -- FORT WORTH, TEXAS -- MOMENT LATER. James walks past a crowd that lines both sides of the street. They shout and cheer and wave money in the air as two horses blast past at forty miles-per hour -- their cowboy riders whipping their flanks to run faster ... He rounds the corner past impromptu card tables where three card monte is played. Prostitutes linger outside a brothel. James walks past, carrying his bag and shotgun -- everything about him screams out-of-towner -- and they zero in on him. PROSTITUTE You should come in for a shower and bath. The women laugh at him as he ignores them. PROSTITUTE (CONT’D) Hell, I might let you bathe me.
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