Elly
W’at’re you gonna do?
Butch
Put that gun back. Put it back, I say!
(She crosses reluctantly, and is putting the gun back in the bunk. The door is kicked open, viciously. Three men with pistols in their hands eye them from the high threshold. It is the Sheriff and his deputies.)
Sheriff (nervously)
Two of ’em. Keep yer eye on the womern, Plank. (To Butch.) Put ’em up! (The men come down into the room. The Sheriff is a florid-faced man, with a long mustache.) Search him, Joe. (Joe comes over, makes a quick search of Butch, and finds nothing.) No gun, eh? Make shore, Joe. We doan wanna take no chances.
Joe
They ain’t none, Shuruff.
Sheriff