The Life and Legend of Wyatt Earp

Tombstone is 4 miles by the left fork.

But I guess my poker game in Galeyville could wait.

Well, I doubt that, Doctor.

Anyway, I'm goin' in Tombstone alone.

Taking off your guns?

That's right. You hang on to 'em for me, would ya?

If you're goin' in alone, you better keep 'em.

No, sir.

I'm goin' into Tombstone as a land agent for the Earp Brothers, Inc.

I'm not a marshal anymore.

Anyway, an unarmed stranger's a lot safer

than a fella totin' guns.

Wyatt, in Tombstone, they don't care if a man is armed or not.

They just shoot him in the back.

Then they search his body to see what they can steal.

Yeah, I almost forgot that.

Hang onto that for me, too, will ya?

So long, Doc.

You stubborn ox!

You'll find out, and soon,

when you meet up with the Clantons!

When Wyatt Earp headed for Tombstone,

he was riding toward the toughest town

in the American West,

a town built on one of the richest silver deposits

ever discovered.

In Tombstone, a miner was shot in the back

for a few bags of silver ore.

Immigrant miners fought outlaw cowboys on Allen Street.

Violence ruled Tombstone, which had but one peace officer.

An effort was made to blow up the city jail,

as a gesture of contempt for the dirty politics in Tombstone.

All right, bring 'em out here.

Come on, bring 'em out here, boys.

Come on!

We'll learn you miners to stay away from the Bird Cage.

It's ours!

All right, boys, get to work!

Denver!

Oh, come on now, boys, stop it!

Miss Cashman!

What are you trying to do, Denver, start a riot?

Just greasin' the fellas.

We'll get even!

And they sure will! Why don't you turn 'em loose, Denver?

The Bird Cage is our hangout.

We don't want no dirty miners around here.

The Oriental Saloon is theirs.

They should stay there. Plaster 'em good!

All right, plaster 'em good, and then have your fight.

I'll get the hospital ready.

Get busy with those feathers!

There's some water for you, Candy.

Whoa, stranger! You have to pay me first!

What is it, champagne?

No, sir. It's my water.

Two bits a gallon.

The trough belongs to the Oriental.

Where's the public trough?

Young fella, there ain't no free water in Tombstone.

We haul this water from way down in the valley.

Way down in the valley, huh?

Yes, sir.

All right, here's a half a buck. Give me 2 gallons.

Why, thank you, young fella!

Oh, say, mister, how many horse swallows is 2 gallons?

Hold it, cowboy.

Get your horse away from my trough.

This ain't exactly your trough, Mr. Grogan.

It belongs to the Oriental.

You keep out of this, Ballard.

No cowboys allowed around the Oriental.

It belongs to us miners.

I'm not a cowhand, friend.

Take him to the Bird Cage. That's where he belongs.

Mister, you shouldn't have done that.

It's my fight.

I'm next!

All right, no more fightin'.

I'll take my horse on over to the Bird Cage.

Hey!

Hey, come back! Hey! You're wastin' my water!

Give me that spigot! Give me that spigot!

Give me the spigot! Give me the spigot!

Pour some water on him. He needs it!

Give me the spigot!

Where's the spigot?

All right, boys, give us a hand.

Come on, take him out.

Oh, he's got an awful lump on his head.

Give me a hand!

Ain't no friend of mine, lady.

You help me! Those miners'll come out and beat him some more.

This ain't my fight, lady.

Denver! Denver!

Yes, Miss Clanton?

Oh, Denver, give me a hand with this cowboy.

Oh, Dr. Goodfellow. Thank heavens you're here.

The fighting may start any minute.

Who is it this time?

The cowboys and the miners again.

Don't you ever give up, Nellie?

Cowboys, outlaws and these miners!

You're wasting your sympathy and I'm wasting my time!

Oh, José, come and get this man, will you?

Take the next bed, right over there.

Easy, now! Take it easy.

Well, come in, come in!

You take a lot of time with this miner.

What about the cowboy?

He'll have to wait his turn.

He's not in bad shape.

That miner looks like he's got a broken rib.

The miners started the fight. I saw it.

You saw it?

He could've killed all 4 of them with his fists.

That coward hit him with a club.

That should hold him till I can get back to him.

You look at the cowboy next, huh?

Cowboy, oh... Mmm-hmm, mmm-hmm...

What do you think, Doc?

I'm afraid I'll have to operate on this one, Nellie.

But you said the cowboy's next.

All right, all right!

José!

Sí?

Pressure bandage for this fellow's head.

Doctor,

you attend the miners, and a cowboy is turned over to someone else.

Miss Clanton, this cowboy hasn't even got a cracked skull.

That miner needs surgery.

Now, don't pester me. I'm busy!

Howdy!

Where am I?

Tombstone.

This is Dr. Goodfellow and I'm Nellie Cashman.

I have the Cashman Hotel next door.

You got a wallop on the head!

You must be pretty handy with your fists!

For a cowboy.

Usually you fellas are only handy with your guns.

Cowboy? You think I'm a cowhand, huh?

Our local paper calls you fellas cowboys.

Doctor, I'm not a cowboy.

I just came to town to try and buy some real estate.

I hope those miners aren't too bad hurt.

Fractured jaw, busted rib.

I should charge you for the operations,

but you better leave town.

You can't fight 3,000 miners!

Doc, uh...

you look tired.

Why don't you go on in the hotel and have your dinner, huh?

Yeah, I think I'll do that.

Friendly old cuss, ain't he?

You gave him an awful lot of extra work today.

Miss Cashman, I didn't start that fight.

I was just trying to water my horse.

Those miners have just been

greased and feathered by cowboys,

and you're a cowboy.

So it doesn't matter who started it.

What's your name?

Well, I seem to remember Charlie Jones.

Charlie Jones? Well, it suits me.

Mr. Jones, you'd be doing me a favor if you left town.

Mmm! Why?

'Cause I'm trying to stop a big shoot-up between the cowboys and the miners.

Miss Cashman, I'm not a cowboy and I'm not a miner.

You're dressed like one.

Emma Clanton had a Clanton rider bring you in here,

and she says you're a cowboy.

Well...

By the way, where's my horse?

My stable.

Thank you.

Don't thank me, just leave Tombstone.

Emma's probably rounding up that Clanton gang right now.

They've just been itching for an excuse to raid this town, and I'm afraid you're it.

Where's your marshal?

It's an old man.

What about the sheriff?

His office is in Tucson. That's 90 miles from here.

No, there isn't any law here, Mr. Jones. No law at all.

You, uh... You have room for me over at your hotel?

Yes, but...

Mr. Jones, you oughta leave Tombstone before sunup.

The Clantons need a better excuse than me.

And what about the miners? What're you gonna do about them?