[door knob clicks] sorry, mr. garth, i thought you ought to know there's gonna be trouble over that card shark. jimmy clements and your deputy are up at the gold spur gettin' liquored up, talki'' themselves into a foul mood. there's gonna be gun trouble, sure. alright, charlie. thanks. don't let anything happen to him. [piano music] - mister, you better get goin'. - where do ya think i oughta go? i don't know, but you better go someplace. 'cause here they come. [chair creaking] i'll take that. you see those three? i see 'em. that's far enough, boys. don't try to stop us. you wanna keep that star, hank? this is a private quarrel, wes. we're in the right. not this way, you aren't. now, turn around and go home. there's a man over there we want. get out of the way. don't try anything foolish, kid. no. but you are. now, turn around and get! [gunshot] i didn't draw, wes. he's dead, mr. garth. [dramatic music] when you're ready to leave town, you can pick up your gun. it'll be at my office. friend of yours? yes. he was. [door