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A banner announces "Yuma Annual Horse Race."  A crowd has gathered for the race, with considerable activity going on.  A bookie standing atop a barrel calls for bets through this entire scene.  Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry wander through the crowd.  They stop and lean against a fence to watch some men saddle a gray colt.
Heyes:  "If I was a gamblin' man, I'd put a bet on that one."
Curry:  "So would I--if it was a beauty contest."
Heyes:  "He can run, too."
Curry:  Looks over and grins.  "Wanna bet?"
The colt is giving the men a little trouble.  The owner of the horse, Sam Bleeker, stands nearby.
Bleeker:  "Steady down, boy, steady down--save some of that for the race!"
Curry and Heyes walk closer.  Bleeker turns to see them watching.
Bleeker:  "Look it, there.  Ain't he somethin'?  This is gonna be a one-horse race--and that there's the horse."
Heyes:  "Looks like he could run a hole in the wind."
Bleeker:  He points at the bookie.  "You can bet on that--right over there!"
A quick look at a man standing on a barrel calling for bets.
Bleeker:  He picks up a front hoof.  "Special racing shoes.  What do you think of that?"  Heyes bends down to look.
Hanley:  "Mister Bleeker?"
A distinguished-looking man approaches.
Bleeker:  "Yeah?"
Hanley:  "Rolf Hanley is my name.  I'm from Lexington, Kentucky."
Bleeker:  "Yeah, what can I do for you?"
Hanley:  "I heard about the race back at the hotel, and I have a little filly that I'd like to try out against your Western colts."
Bleeker:  "Why are you talkin' to me?  I ain't in charge here."
Hanley:  "Well, it all does seem rather informal, but I've been told your colt is the favorite, and if I can get your approval, I can enter my filly."
Bleeker:  "You wanta enter a filly against...colts?  Now, where is this here...filly?"
Hanley gestures towards his bay filly, Hyperia, standing quietly nearby.
Bleeker:  "I'll be dawged, she don't look like she's even growed up yet."
Heyes and Curry have been close enough to hear the conversation between Hanley and Bleeker.  They study Hanley's horse and they're impressed.  They exchange glances.
Hanley:  "That's right.  She's only three years old.  But she's raced many times."
Bleeker:  Amused.  "Well, now, if you don't mind throwin' away that two-hundred dollars that it takes to enter her in the race, well, that's fine with me.  It just adds to the purse."
Hanley:  Smiles.  "Thank you--I'm obliged."
Heyes:  To Bleeker, "Nice talkin' to you."
Bleeker:  "Yeah."
As Hanley walks back to his horse, Heyes and Curry follow.
Hanley:  "Alright, you can get her saddled.  We're entered."
Heyes:  "Excuse me."
Hanley turns.  Heyes and Curry stop near Hyperia.
Hanley:  "Yes?"
Heyes:  "She's a thoroughbred, isn't she?"
Hanley:  "Machem line, both sides."
Curry:  "She's a beauty."
Hanley:  "Thank you."
Heyes:  "Are you gonna be ridin' her yourself?"
Hanley:  "Well...I hired a man for that.  He rides better than me.  And weighs less."
Curry:  "How many furlongs is this race?"
Hanley:  Smiles.  "My guess is it's more than three furlongs."
Curry and Heyes exchange an optimistic glance.
Hanley:  "Well, now, if you're thinking of betting on her, gentlemen, I should tell you that she was shipped here from Kentucky just a few days ago, and it was a pretty rough trip."
Curry:  Surprised.  "Shipped in here for this race?"
Hanley:  Amused.  "No, hardly.  I'm taking her to Mexico--breeding her to a Machem-line stallion.  I just felt she needed a little exercise."
Heyes:  "Yeah, I see.  But you wouldn't be offended if we made a small bet on her, would you?"
Hanley:  "Well, now, that's up to you."  He glances off toward Bleeker.  "But there are others who might be offended if she does win the race."
Curry:  "Well, now, horse races are usually a gamble, aren't they?"

Opening Theme:  "Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry, the two most successful outlaws in the history of the west...."

The opening credits begin as the horses line up.  A gun fires and the race begins.  Hyperia is left well behind at the start.  Bleeker's gray colt is in the lead.
Bleeker:  Excited.  "Man!  Look at 'im go!  Look at 'im go!"
Hyperia is moving up.
Hanley:  "She's starting to make her move, boys."
The filly passes the entire field, and wins by ten lengths or more.  Bleeker is stunned--his colt finishes second, but far behind Hyperia.  Hanley, Curry and Heyes are jubilant.
Heyes:  "Congratulations.  Thank you very much!"
Hanley:  "Well, I told you I thought she could make it."
Heyes and Curry go straight to the bookie to collect their winnings.  The loud voice of Sam Bleeker as he confronts Hanley attracts their attention.
Bleeker:  "Hey, Hanley, I want to talk to you.  I asked you a question, but you ain't answered me yet!"
Hanley:  "Well, maybe that's because I didn't understand your question.  Are you suggesting that I tried to trick you in some way?"
Bleeker:  "That's right!  I think you pulled a real ringer on us!"
Hanley:  "My filly is no ringer.  She's simply a thoroughbred.  And if you knew horses as well as you think you know horses, you'd know that a thoroughbred may not run a quarter of a mile as fast as Western horses, but once they're beyond that, and a pony starts slowing down, a thoroughbred's just getting ready to run the next furlongs in eleven seconds."
He nods and starts to turn away, but Bleeker grabs his arm and pulls him around roughly.
Bleeker:  "Don't turn your back on me, mister.  Nobody does that.  Now, you come around here and you pull these con games on us...  Why ain't you wearin' a gun?"
Curry and Heyes move to stand on either side of Hanley.
Hanley:  "Maybe that's because generally I don't need one--not being given to 'pulling con games.'"
Bleeker:  "Well, you're sure gonna need a gun...real soon.  In fact, I'll give you one minute to get one.  That, or you disqualify your animal from the race, so that the correct results can be announced."
Hanley:  "Well, now, I'm sorry, but I have no intention of finding a gun, or disqualifying my horse.  You accepted her entry--she won fairly."
Bleeker:  "I say she didn't!"
Curry:  Calmly.  "You're being kind of a sore loser, aren't you, mister?  The race is over.  His horse won.  You can't change that with a gun."
Bleeker gives Curry a hostile look.
Bleeker:  "You got some business here, boy?"
Curry:  Mildly.  "Yeah.  I bet on his horse.  Wouldn't want to see the results changed just because you carry a gun and he doesn't."
Bleeker:  "Oh.  Well, now, I see you're carryin' a gun.  You wanta get outa this meeting or use that gun?"
Curry exchanges a glance with Heyes.
Curry:  "No, I really don't want to use the gun.  I just want the results to stay the way they are.  I put up forty dollars, and I've got three hundred comin'.  That just gives me a very sincere interest in keeping the results just the way they are."
Bleeker:  "Boy, I done give you a choice.  Now you either get out of here or use that gun.  Now, which way you goin'?"
Curry:  Still pleasant.  "Well, I really don't want to use the gun.  And I will go, if you just leave my friend here alone."
Bleeker:  "In other words, you wanna use that gun!"
Curry is watching Bleeker alertly now, as is Heyes.
Curry:  Still calm, but no longer pleasant.  "No, sir.  I don't want to use the gun.  I just want you to take your loss like a good loser--'cause that's what you did.  You lost."
Hanley:  "Now, gentlemen...  Please..."
Bleeker starts to draw.  He freezes as we hear the sound of a gun being cocked.  Curry's gun is aimed at Bleeker.  Bleeker stares at Curry and the pointed gun.

Curry enters a saloon, pauses to look around, and walks toward a poker table where Heyes is one of the players.
Heyes:  "Wager ten dollars."
Two other players bet against him.  Heyes lays down his hand.
Heyes:  "Queens.  Jacks."
Heyes pulls in the substantial pot, glancing up at Curry standing behind him.
Curry:  "Gotta talk to you, in private."
Heyes:  "Oh, fine.  Deal me out."  With a smile to the other poker players, "Oh, I'll be back."
He gets up and follows Curry to the bar.
Curry:  "You want a beer?"
Heyes:  "No.  What's up?"  As Curry holds up two fingers to the bartender, "I don't want a beer."
Curry:  "Yes you do, Heyes, we're celebrating.  Our friend from Kentucky just offered us a job."
Heyes:  "Oh.  Doin' what?"
Curry:  "Ridin' with him down to Mexico, in a nice, private, deluxe luxury coach that he rented from Butterfield's."
Heyes:  "Oh yeah?"
Curry:  "Uh-huh."
Heyes:  "That's a job?"
Curry:  "Uh-huh."
Heyes:  "Hmm."
Curry:  "Hyperia--his filly--is worth twenty thousand dollars."
Heyes:  "No foolin'!"
Curry:  "He wants us to be bodyguards.  He's payin' five hundred bucks."
Heyes:  "Hmm.  Thank you."  He picks up his beer, takes a sip, and glances over at the poker table.  "He'd probably be just as happy if you went alone, wouldn't he?"
Curry:  "Yeah, but, you know, I figured you'd want to go--ridin' in luxury, all expenses paid."
Heyes:  "Yeah, I would, but, ah..."  He moves closer.  "Kid, the poker players in this town think the laws of probability should only be obeyed when there's a sheriff watchin'.  They stay on any pair, they draw to inside straights, and they sweat when they bluff."  They both laugh.  "I figure I'm bound to make more money playin' poker with them than bodyguardin' a horse.  Why don't you go ahead though.  How long will it take?"
Curry:  Shrugs.  "Couple weeks."
Heyes:  "All right, go ahead.  See you in a couple a weeks."  He divides his poker winnings and hands some money to Curry.  "Stay out of trouble."
Curry:  "What's this for?"
Heyes:  "I think I'm beginning to like you."

A stagecoach pulled by four horses is moving along a road.  Tied behind the coach, Hyperia is trotting along.  The driver, named Turner, whips up the team and hollers at them to go faster.  The only passengers inside the coach are Hanley and Curry.  Curry is apparently asleep, his hat tipped down over his face.  Hanley leans out the door and calls up to the driver.
Hanley:  "Slower, Mister Turner!  A nice, easy canter, if you please!  You don't have a schedule to keep, you know."
Turner:  "Right."
Turner slows the coach horses to a trot.  Suddenly the left rear wheel hits a hole in the road and comes off with a jolt.

Turner is peering under the coach while Hanley and Curry stand nearby.
Turner:  "Yeah, it's busted right off."
Hanley:  "Can it be repaired?"
Turner:  "Sure, but it'll take a blacksmith to do it."

A road marker says "SANTA MARTA 3 KM."  Curry and Hanley ride past.  Hanley is on a saddled Hyperia, Curry is riding one of the coach horses bareback.

Mariachis are playing in the hotel cantina.  A man stands in the doorway, surveying the combination bar and dining room.  He is the Alcalde, a well-dressed, dark-haired man.  He crosses the room to the table where Hanley and Curry are eating their evening meal.
Alcalde:  "Mister Hanley?"
Hanley:  He and Curry look up.  "Yes?"
Alcalde:  "Please forgive the intrusion.  I merely wish to welcome you here.  I'm Seņor Cordoba, the Alcalde.  Please, don't get up."  Hanley stands and they shake hands.
Hanley:  "This is Mister Jones.  He's traveling with me."
Curry rises and shakes hands with the Alcalde.
Alcalde:  "Mister Jones."  To Hanley,  "While you are here, if I may serve you in my official capacity, please call upon me."
Hanley:  "Thank you.  But I'm not familiar with the title 'Alcalde.'"
Alcalde:  "In my case it means Mayor, Magistrate, Commissioner of Police...at your service."
Curry is uneasy at the mention of the word "Police," but neither Hanley nor the Alcalde notice his reaction.
Hanley:  "You're very gracious, Seņor Cordoba."
Alcalde:  "Thank you.  Buenas noches, Seņores."
Hanley:  "Buenas noches."
He moves off.  Curry and Hanley sit down.
Hanley:  "Charming man."
Curry:  "Mister Hanley, he was checking us out.  But charmingly."

Curry comes down the stairs to the hotel lobby.  The Clerk sees him.
Clerk:  "Oh, Seņor Honess, I have a message for you."
Curry goes to the desk, and the Clerk hands him a folded note.
Clerk:  "Seņor Hanley left this for you, only moments ago."
Curry:  "Gracias."
Curry unfolds the piece of paper and reads, "Thaddeus-- Sorry, but I won't be seeing you at dinner.  Enjoy yourself!  R. Hanley."  He crumples the note, tosses it into a waste basket, and continues into the dining room.

Curry is seated in the cantina.  He has finished his meal, and is enjoying a cigar and a beer.   The mariachis are playing.  He sees the Alcalde across the room, visiting with several people at their table.  The Alcalde gives Curry a polite nod.

There's a knock at door numbered 27.  Curry is partially dressed--trousers, boots, henley, but no shirt yet.  He's shaving.
Curry:  "Come in, Rolf!"
In the mirror, he sees the door open and two policemen enter.  Curry turns.
First Policeman:  "Va a venir con nostros, Seņor."
Curry:  "I'm sorry...no comprendo."
The Second Policeman takes out a gun and points it at Curry.
Curry:  "That I understand."

Curry's gunbelt is lying on the Alcalde's desk.  The Alcalde pulls the pistol from its holster, examines it, and sniffs the muzzle.
Alcalde:  "This pistol has been cleaned recently."
Curry:  "My pistol's always been cleaned recently."
The Alcalde returns the pistol to its holster.  He looks up at Curry, who's standing in front of the desk.  A policeman is standing guard in front of the door.
Alcalde:  "Your name is Thaddeus Jones.  Where do you come from, Mister Jones?"
Curry:  "The United States of America."
Alcalde:  "Would you care to narrow it down just a little bit?"
Curry:  "Would you care to tell me what this is all about?"
Alcalde:  "If I wanted to learn from someone in the United States such things as who you are, what do you do for a living--where should I address such an inquiry?"
Curry:  "There's a Sheriff...ah...Lom Trevors, in Wyoming."
Alcalde:  "Wyoming."
Curry:  "Porterville."
Alcalde:  "Who else?"
Curry:  "Mister Joshua Smith.  He's in Yuma, Arizona right now."
Alcalde:  "What is his occupation?"
Curry:  "Ah, he's retired.  Used to be in banking and railroads."
Alcalde:  "Who else?"
Curry:  "Well--that's two."
Alcalde:  "Yes, that's two."  He gets up from his desk and comes around to stand in front of Curry.  "But I would like some more substantial credentials--a place of residence, former employers, that sort of thing."
Curry:  "Well, I drift around a lot, and right now, my employer's Mister Hanley."
Alcalde:  "How long have you known Mister Hanley?"
Curry:  "Look, what's this all about?  Am I under arrest or something?"
Alcalde:  Loosing his patience.  "Yes, you're very much under arrest.  And you know what this is about."
Curry:  "No, I don't know what this is about!"
Alcalde:  "You do not know that Mister Hanley, your employer, was shot last night and thrown off the Punta Piedras cliffs?"
Curry reacts to that in shocked silence.  The Alcalde returns to his desk.
Alcalde:  "I assume that you, or whoever did this, expected the body to be washed out to sea or be eaten by sharks--but fortunately it was found by fishermen."
Curry:  "He's dead?"
Alcalde:  "Yes, he is dead."
Curry is clearly very upset.  He sits in a chair against the wall.
Curry:  "I...I suppose that someone must've guessed he was a wealthy man--which he was--so they robbed him and killed him..."
Alcalde:  "No.  Your employer was not robbed, he was simply murdered."  He opens a drawer in his desk, brings out two expensive rings and a watch, and puts them on the desk top.  "He was still wearing these.  And in his pocket was this gold watch, and in his wallet there were several thousand dollars American money."  He leans toward Curry accusingly.  "He was murdered right here in Santa Marta, where he knew no one, a town where he came purely by accident!  You were the only one who knew him, who could possibly have felt malice towards him or had a quarrel with him."
Curry:  "That all sounds very logical, Mister Cordoba."  He gets up and stands in front of the desk.  "But it's not true.  I didn't kill him.  I had no reason to kill him.  In fact, I liked the man."
Alcalde:  Sits down.  "Last night you dined alone.  Why?  Where was your employer?"
Curry:  "I don't know.  He sent me a note saying he wouldn't be having dinner with me."
Alcalde:  "Where is the note?"
Curry:  Sick.  "I threw it away.  Look, ask the room clerk--he gave it to me."
Alcalde:  "I did ask him.  He did not read the note, nor can we find it."
Curry:  "Alright, you say he was shot.  What kind of gun was it?"
Alcalde:  "A .45 caliber weapon."  He points to Curry's gun.  "This caliber."
Curry:  Getting desperate.  "What about Hyperia, his filly?  Where's she now?"
Alcalde:  "In her stall, untouched."
Curry sighs, defeated.
Alcalde:  "Anything else, Mister Jones, before I lock you up?"
Curry:  "Yeah.  I'd like to send a telegraph."
Alcalde:  Takes out paper and pen.  "What is the message?"
Curry:  "To Mister Joshua Smith, Yuma, Arizona.  Am in Santa Marta in jail, charged with murder.  Bring money.  Add, find out where Bleeker, the rancher who lost the race, has been for the last couple of days.  Signed Thaddeus Jones."

Heyes exits the Yuma hotel carrying his bags.  He crosses to a waiting stagecoach and tosses his luggage to a man loading the rack on top.  Heyes gets in and finds there's another passenger already inside.  She's Meg Parker, a pretty woman in her late twenties.  He takes the seat opposite her and gives her a pleasant smile.
Heyes:  "How do you do?  Oh, my name's Joshua Smith.  It appears we're traveling together.  You are heading for Santa Marta, aren't you?"
Meg:  "I'd better be.  That's the only place this coach goes to."
Heyes:  "You're traveling by yourself, Miss..."
Meg:  "Yes. And it's Mrs., Mrs. Meg Parker."
Heyes:  "Uh-huh."  His interest fading, he turns to look out the window.
Meg:  "I'm a widow."
Heyes:  "Oh."  He turns back.  "I'm sorry."
As the coach gets under way, Heyes and Meg settle themselves for the ride.
Heyes:  "Excuse me for saying this, but it seems a little unusual for a lady like yourself to be traveling all alone--especially to an out of the way place like Santa Marta."
Meg:  "Well, yes, I suppose it is.  But I am alone.  I have some money, and I like doing the unusual.  And Santa Marta--so they tell me--is one of the loveliest resort towns in all of Mexico."

Meg signs the register at the Santa Marta Hotel.  She turns to Heyes, who's waiting behind her.
Meg:  "Well, it's been very nice getting to know you, Joshua.  I will be seeing more of you, won't I?"
Heyes:  Smiles.  "Oh, I plan to see that you do."  He watches as she takes her key and follows the porter upstairs.  He goes to the desk and signs the register.  To the clerk, "Thank you.  Could you have someone take my bags up to my room?  I have to visit a friend."
Clerk:  "Certainly, Mister Smith.  Certainly."
Heyes:  "How do I find my friend?  He's staying at the local jail."
The clerk looks up in surprise.

Curry is leaning on the bars of his cell, listening to Heyes.
Heyes:  "...and the next day, a couple hours after you and Hanley left, Bleeker got shot."
Curry:  "Shot the next day?!"
Heyes:  "He picked another fight, and this time the man pulled the trigger.  Bleeker's dead."
Curry:  Drops his head against the bars.  "Then I'm as good as dead, too, Heyes!  The Alcalde's right.  Nobody here even knew Hanley except me!  Nobody here would want to kill him!"  Heyes says nothing.  They look at each other.  "Heyes, you gotta get me out of this."
Heyes:  "It'll take a miracle."
Curry:  "I know.  You'll just have to come up with one."
They hear someone enter the cell area.  Heyes turns to see the Alcalde enter.
Alcalde:  Smiling pleasantly.  "Good day.  I was told our prisoner has a visitor.  You are--?"
Heyes:  "Joshua Smith.  Yuma, Arizona."
Alcalde:  "Oh, yes, of course.  You are his other friend.  You look quite young to be a retired railroad man and banker."
Heyes throws Curry a look over his shoulder.  Curry shrugs.
Alcalde:  "Tell me, Mister Smith--do you have any references I could check?"
Heyes:  "Yes.  Sheriff Lom Trevors, Porterville, Wyoming."
Alcalde:  "Yes...Mister Jones mentioned him.  Anyone else?"
Heyes:  "No.  But if you decide to arrest me, I'll try to think of someone.  What I'm interested in now is just how I get my friend here out on bail."
Alcalde:  Amused.  "What, on a murder charge?  Is that done in the United States?"
Heyes:  "Well, it depends on the case.  In this case, my friend here is innocent."
Alcalde:  "I see.  Well, I made two interesting discoveries since we locked him up.  One is that Turner, the stagecoach driver, has a criminal record in the United States.  He's not a fugitive, but he did spend ten years in prison for murder.  So, now I have him to consider."
Curry:  "He's your man!  He's got a criminal face if I ever saw one!"
Heyes:  "You said you made two discoveries."
Alcalde:  "Yes.  When I notified Mister Hanley's widow I learned that he lived in Lexington, Kentucky.  Well, how interesting.  Right here in Santa Marta we have a permanent resident who also comes from Lexington, Kentucky.  Her name is Margaret Carruthers.  So as you can see, the situation is no longer simple."
Heyes:  "It sure isn't.  Why is he still locked up?"
Alcalde:  "Oh, I intend to do something about that immediately."  To Curry, "But Mister Jones.  If you try to leave Santa Marta, you will go approximately fifty kilometers and then you will be captured--and after that, you will never leave this jail again."
Curry:  Fervently.  "I will not leave Santa Marta until you tell me I can leave.  I like Santa Marta."
Alcalde:  "Good, good.  There is a little problem I'm faced with this evening that I would like you to help me with."
Curry:  "Anything!"  Stops to think.  "What kind of problem?"
Alcalde:  "I would like you to have supper with me this evening, promptly at eight."
Heyes:  Suspicious.  "How does that help?"
Alcalde:  "Miss Carruthers will be there.  If I simply question her I will learn nothing from her.  But if you, Mister Jones, are there, you can bring up the subject of Mister Hanley, and casually mention where he came from.  Her reaction might tell us a quite a bit."
Curry:  "I'll be there at eight.  Promptly."
Alcalde:  "Good."
Heyes:  To the Alcalde, "I'm more interested in this fellow Turner.  Do you know where he is now?"
Alcalde:  "Probably where I left him--in the cantina at the hotel."

Turner is at the bar, facing Curry and Heyes, and he's furious.
Turner:  "Go on, get away from me--I got nothing to say to you!"  He walks away.
Curry:  Following.  "Why not?  What've you got against me all of a sudden?"
Turner:  Getting more and more upset.  "What've I got against you?  Everything!!  I'm being kept down here--I can't leave till they find out who killed Hanley!  And nobody's paying me any wages while I'm here!  And we know who killed him, don't we?  Since it wasn't me, it's gotta be you!"
Curry and Heyes exchange a look.
Curry:  "All right, all right.  Sorry we bothered you."
Curry and Heyes come out of the cantina and pause in the hotel lobby.
Heyes:  "Well, he's either a fantastic liar or he didn't do it."
Curry:  "I don't think he's smart enough to be a fantastic liar."
Heyes:  "All right, if it wasn't you and it wasn't him, it's gotta be what's-her-name. Right?"
Curry:  "No, Heyes, unfortunately, it doesn't."

Curry and Heyes ride to the top of a hill and rein to a stop to look at an elegant villa.
Heyes:  Whistles.  "Looks like Miss Carruthers is as rich as our friend Hanley."
They hear the sound of a horse and buggy coming from the villa, heading along the road toward town.  A woman is driving the buggy.  Heyes frowns, watching the buggy.
Curry:  "Hey, you suppose that's her?"
Heyes:  "That's not a woman named Carruthers.  That's Meg Parker."
Curry:  "Who's Meg Parker?"
Heyes:  "Oh, we rode down together on the stage from Yuma.  She's a widow.  She's traveling around the world."
Curry:  "Around the world?  You can't get there from Santa Marta!"
Heyes:  "That's what I thought, too, when she told me about it, but I had no reason to think anything was peculiar.  You know something?"
Curry:  "What?"
Heyes:  "Now I think it's peculiar.  Come on."
He and Curry turn their horses, and head back the way they came.

The Alcalde is visiting with several dinner guests in his home.  He walks over to Curry, who's standing alone across the room, sipping from a glass of wine.
Curry:  "Maybe she's not coming."
Alcalde:  "Oh, she'll be here.  Don't worry."
A servant opens the door and Margaret Carruthers enters.  She's a lovely, dark-haired woman in her late twenties.
Curry:  "That's her?"
Alcalde:  "That's her.  It's up to you now, Mister Jones."  He crosses to Margaret.  "Buenos noches."  He kisses her hand and escorts her into the room.

Heyes and Meg Parker are having an enjoyable dinner in the hotel dining room.  The mariachis are playing.
Meg:  "I'm so deeply grateful--I didn't like the prospect of eating alone my first night in Santa Marta."
Heyes:  "Neither did I.  You're right, it is a lovely town.  Did you get a chance to look around at all?"
Meg:  "Oh, yes.  I went down to the docks today, and I saw the men coming in from fishing.  It made me wish I were a man, so that I could go fishing, too."
Heyes:  "I don't want to deprive you of your fishing, but I'm happy with you just the way you are."
Meg:  "Thank you.  Maybe I was fishing--and successfully!"
Heyes:  "What else did you see?  Did you get out in the countryside at all?"
Meg:  "Oh, no, no.  Perhaps I'll do that tomorrow."
Heyes smiles.

The Alcalde's guests are seated at a table.  Margaret and Curry are seated across from each other, with the Alcalde at the head of the table, next to them.
Margaret:  "Mister Jones, aren't you the gentleman who came to Santa Marta with the other American who was killed?"
Curry:  "Yes, ma'am."
Margaret:  "What a terrible thing!  What do you suppose happened?"
Curry:  "I wish I knew, Miss Carruthers...I really wish I knew."
Alcalde:  To Margaret, "He had a beautiful thoroughbred mare with him--he planned to breed her to the stallion at the Rancho Verde."
Curry:  "He was one of the biggest horse-breeders in his part of the country, ma'am.  He came from Kentucky--Lexington."
The Alcalde watches Margaret intently.
Margaret:  "Lexington?"
Curry:  "Yes, ma' am."
Margaret:  "Why, that's odd.  I'm from Lexington!"
Curry:  "Are you?
Margaret:  "Mm-hmm."
Curry:  "Then you must've known him.  Rolf Hanley?"
Margaret:  Thinking.  "Hanley.  Well, it does sound familiar."  Smiles.  "But there were sixteen thousand fifty people in Lexington at the last count.  Many of them were my friends, but I don't think I ever met Mister Hanley."

Curry and Heyes are out for a late-night stroll.
Heyes:  "Did the Alcalde believe her?"
Curry:  "Yeah, I'm sure he did.  I even believed her.  I didn't even want to.  She left home years ago.  She's been livin' here for four years."
Heyes:  "The one I don't believe is Meg Parker.  She was deliberately lying.  That was her in the buggy today--but she claimed she didn't leave town today."
Curry:  "All right, so she's a liar.  She wasn't even here when Hanley was shot, so what does that--" 
He's cut off in mid-sentence by the crack of a rifle.  Heyes grabs Curry's arm and pulls him to safety behind a fallen tree.  As they dive for cover, another shot is fired.  Curry sticks his head up to look around and his hat is knocked off by a bullet.  Heyes pulls his pistol and starts shooting.  The rifle shots stop.
Curry:  "Heyes?"
Heyes:  "Huh?"
Curry:  "Is this good or bad?"
Heyes:  Considers.  "Well, if you don't get killed, I think it's good."

Heyes and Curry are in the Alcalde's house.  The Alcalde is in a robe.
Alcalde:  "Gentlemen, I hope you have a very good reason to rouse my household at this hour."
Curry:  "Somebody just tried to kill me.  Is that a good enough reason?"
Alcalde:  Surprised.  "To kill you?!"
Curry sticks a finger through the bullet hole in his hat.
Curry:  "That was the first shot.  The second one I dodged."
Alcalde:  "Where did this happen?"
Heyes:  "We were walking near the beach--that hill behind the hotel, no more than ten minutes ago."
Alcalde:  "That's incredible."
Curry:  "What does that mean--you don't believe it?"
Alcalde:  "Of course I believe it.  I just don't comprehend it."
Curry:  "Well, maybe you got somebody in your town just doesn't like gringos."
Alcalde:  "Many gring-- Many Americanos come to Santa Marta.  None has ever been killed."
Heyes:  "Oh?  The score is one, and somebody just tried to make it two.  Are you gonna do anything about it?"
Alcalde:  "Yes--I'm going to get dressed and instruct my Captain of Police to go make inquiries.  I will let you know the minute I hear something."
Curry:  "Well, how 'bout just lettin' us leave town?"
Heyes:  "Yeah."
Alcalde:  "You could.  Only I would not recommend you try it."

In their hotel room, Curry and Heyes are still awake and dressed.  Curry is sitting next to a small table, cleaning his pistol.  Heyes is at the window, looking out at the dark town.  A knock sounds at the door.  Heyes turns, drawing and cocking his revolver.
Heyes:  "Who is it?"
Alcalde:  "The Alcalde."
Heyes crosses the room, holstering his gun, and opens the door.
Heyes:  "Come in."
Heyes admits the Alcalde and shuts the door after he enters the room.  Curry stands.
Alcalde:  "Gentlemen.  My men have finished their inquiries."
Curry:  "And?"
Alcalde:  "And they learned that the coach driver--with whom you had words earlier today in the cantina--was playing poker at the time the shots were fired at you."
Heyes:  "What about Margaret Carruthers?"
Alcalde:  "She went straight to her villa after the dinner at my house--and according to her servants she retired immediately."
Heyes:  "And went out a convenient window?"
Alcalde:  "Who knows?  There is another item that I was unaware of.  A private stagecoach arrived at ten o'clock tonight, and the passenger of that stagecoach is Seņora Rolf Hanley."
Curry:  "You mean Mrs. Hanley's here already!?"
Alcalde:  "Yes, she's down the hall.  Well, after all, it's been a week since I notified her.  She asked for me the minute she arrived in town, and was told that I was entertaining guests.  She then asked for you, Mister Jones, and learned that you were one of those guests.  Then she asked for the coach driver.  I questioned Turner, and he admits that he told her that, in his opinion, you killed her husband."
Curry:  "Oh, that's great!  He's very convincing on that subject!"
Alcalde:  "Yes, he is.  Well, gentlemen, if there are any further developments, I trust they will wait for a more civilized hour.  Good night."  He goes out.
Curry:  "I think he's beginning to resent me."
Heyes:  "Well, that's understandable.  Here you are, trying to get yourself framed for murder--or even killed--in his town.  Nobody likes a nuisance."

Mrs. Hanley is in her hotel room.  She hears knocking, crosses to the door, and opens it.
Mrs. Hanley:  "Yes?"
Curry:  "Ma'am, my name is Jones.  I'm the man who came here with your husband.  This is a friend of mine, Mister Smith.  We'd like to talk to you."
Mrs. Hanley stares at him coldly, then turns and moves back into her room, leaving the door open.  Curry and Heyes follow her in.  Heyes shuts the door and sits on a chair.  Mrs. Hanley stands with her back to them.
Mrs. Hanley:  Her tone is very hostile. "What is it you want?"
Curry:  "I got shot at last night, Mrs. Hanley...sometime after you talked to a man named Turner, who claims I killed your husband."
Mrs. Hanley:  "My husband knew no one else here.  He was also shot with a Colt .45, which I see you are still wearing.  Yes, Mister Turner did give me his opinion of you."
Curry:  "Mrs. Hanley--I don't like getting shot at...so will you please listen to me.  I liked your husband.  I didn't kill him.  So if that was you doing the shooting last night, please, just--"
Mrs. Hanley:  Turns.  "I didn't try to shoot you!  What do you think I am!"
Curry:  "I think you're a very angry woman who's decided the man who killed her husband is getting away with it."
Mrs. Hanley:  "Well, aren't you?  Who else could've done it?"
Curry:  "Mrs. Hanley, didn't the Alcalde tell you there's a woman living here who's from Lexington?"
Mrs. Hanley:  Less hostile.  "No, no one told me that."
Curry:  "Her name is Margaret Carruthers."
Mrs. Hanley:  "Margaret Carruthers?  But, I know her!  At least, I met her once, many years ago.  My husband knew her a little better than I did."
Heyes and Curry exchange a glance.
Curry:  "Well, then, maybe you'd like to meet her again, since she claimed last night that she'd never met your husband in her entire life."

A servant is working in the living room of Margaret Carruthers' villa.  She hears a knock and crosses the room to open the door.  Curry and Mrs. Hanley are outside.
Curry:  "Buenos dias."
Servant:  "Muy buenos dias."
Curry:  "Seņor Thaddeus Jones to see Miss Carruthers."
Servant:  "Como No.  Passe Uds.  Passe."  The servant gestures for them to enter.
Curry:  "Thank you."
Curry and Mrs. Hanley are shown into the living room.  Margaret Carruthers appears on a balcony overlooking the room.
Margaret:  "Mister Jones, how nice to see you again.  And so unexpected."
Curry:  "Well, now, someone arrived in town last night who's kind of anxious to meet you, ma'am."
Margaret:  "Well, I'll be right down."
Servant:  "Con Permiso."  The servant excuses herself.
Margaret descends the stairs and enters the living room.
Curry:  "Miss Carruthers, I'd like you to meet Mrs. Rolf Hanley."
Margaret shows no sign of recognition.
Margaret:  "Well, how do you do, Mrs. Hanley?"
Mrs. Hanley:  "How do you do?"
Margaret:  "Won't you sit down?"
Mrs. Hanley:  "Thank you."
The women sit on a couch.  Curry finds a seat on the fireplace hearth.
Mrs. Hanley:  "Don't you recall meeting me before?  In Lexington?"
Margaret:  "It seems we have met, but I don't recall the occasion."
Mrs. Hanley:  "It was on Spring Street in Lexington.  I was with my husband-to-be.  We were shopping.  He introduced us."
Margaret:  Smiles.  "Yes, of course.  I recall it now.  You've changed.  You've grown even more beautiful."
Mrs. Hanley:  "That's curious.  I was about to say the same thing to you--that you're changed.  So much so that I wouldn't have recalled you at all."
Margaret:  "Mrs. Hanley, I was eighteen years old.  I have changed a great deal since that age--but so have you."
Mrs. Hanley:  "Don't you recall my husband either?  You met him many times."
Curry has been watching closely.  Margaret glances at him, then back to Mrs. Hanley.
Margaret:  "Yes.  I do recall him."
Curry:  To Margaret, "Well, now, that brings up an interesting question, doesn't it--since you told the Alcalde and me last night you'd never met Rolf Hanley in your entire life."
Margaret:  Smiles. "I did say that, didn't I?  But certainly you can understand, Mister Jones.  I simply didn't want to get involved in...whatever was going on.  I was not involved, and I wanted to keep that way.  After all, I hadn't seen him since I was eighteen, and even then I only knew him slightly."
Mrs. Hanley:  "Then you know nothing of what happened to my husband here?  You didn't see him?"
Margaret:  A sympathetic tone. "No, Mrs. Hanley."

Meg is sitting up in bed, dressed in a bed jacket.  She is sipping coffee and reading a magazine.  A knock is heard at her door.
Meg:  "Who is it?"
Porter:  "Tengo flores para La Seņora!"
Meg:  She doesn't understand Spanish.  "Oh, ah...come in please."
The door opens and a porter enters, carrying a bouquet of flowers.
Meg:  "Oh, how lovely!"  The porter brings the flowers to her.  She finds a note among them and removes it, then indicates the table beside the bed.  "Just put them down there, please."
He sets the flowers on the table as she opens the note and reads, "Sorry to hear you're not feeling well.  May I come up and keep you company?  Worried about you-- Joshua."
Meg:  To the porter, "Tell the gentleman that I'd be happy to have him come up here.  Thank you."
The Porter smiles and goes out, leaving the door open.  Heyes leans in, and raps on the doorframe.
Heyes:  "I hope you don't mind, but I'm anxious--and he doesn't speak English."
Meg:  "Oh, Joshua, you idiot.  Come on in."
He enters, closes the door, and walks over to lean on the brass rail at the foot of the bed.
Heyes:  "Well, I'm relieved to see that you aren't seriously ill.  I mean, you don't look as if death is knocking on your door."
Meg:  "You're probably just what the doctor didn't think of ordering for me."

Curry and Mrs. Hanley are riding in a surrey back toward Santa Marta.
Curry:  "Do you believe her?  Has she just changed a lot, or is she somebody different altogether?"
Mrs. Hanley:  Troubled. "I don't know.  I met her that first time for such a brief moment.  But my memory of her is different...it's really quite different."
Curry:  "I'd appreciate you telling the Alcalde that.  My friend and I could leave here tonight if we really wanted to, but we'd prefer going with his approval."

Heyes walks around the bed and sits next to Meg.
Heyes:  "You know, Meg, I have a question to ask you.  I hope it isn't gonna bring on a relapse."
Meg:  "Goodness--that sounds serious."
Heyes:  "It is.  When you told me about your first day here, you left something out."
Meg:  "Really?"
Heyes:  "Yes.  You left out that you paid a visit to a woman who lives several miles outside of Santa Marta--Margaret Carruthers."
Meg:  "Well, it was just an oversight, Joshua.  I...I heard that an American woman was living here, alone, and I just decided to pay her a visit...unannounced.  But she wasn't home when I got there, so I just turned around and came back."
Heyes:  "I see.  It does seem strange though, doesn't it--that you'd forget about driving all the way out to her villa?"
Meg:  "Joshua, why are you questioning me like this?  Do you suspect me of something?"
Heyes:  "Meg, a man was killed here.  The Alcalde thinks a friend of mine did it, and I know he didn't--so I guess I'm ready to suspect almost anybody."
He eyes her intensely.  She lowers her gaze.

Mrs. Hanley:  "It was many years ago that I met Margaret Carruthers.  It was for a very short moment, and it was somewhat embarrassing, because Rolf had once courted her.  She...she might not be the same woman.  I have a feeling that she isn't--but I could be wrong--I could be terribly wrong."
Curry:  "I'm not asking you to tell the Alcalde she's a liar--just that you're not sure about her, that's all."
They arrive back in town.  Curry stops the surrey in front of the stable, where the two policemen who arrested him earlier are waiting.  One of them gestures to him.
Curry:  "You know, I think we should've left without the Alcalde's approval."
First Policeman:  "Va a venir con nosotros, Seņor."
Curry:  "I think I'm beginning to catch on to the language."
He hands Mrs. Hanley the reins and climbs down, raising his hands.  The policeman takes Curry's pistol from its holster.
Curry:  To Mrs. Hanley, "Listen, get ahold of my friend Smith and tell him I'm back in jail."

Heyes enters the jail, slamming the door behind him.  He leans on the desk where a policeman is working.
Heyes:  "I want to talk to the Alcalde...now!  Comprende?" 
The policeman points to the Alcalde as he comes out of his office.
Alcalde:  "Comprendo.  But talking to me will not help, Seņor."
Curry comes to the front bars of his cell.
Heyes:  Handing his pistol to the policeman, "Here."  He moves to meet the Alcalde in front of Curry's cell.  He is intensely angry.  "Why is he in jail?"
Alcalde:  "Because a citizen of Santa Marta, a man who was born and raised here, just reported to me he saw a man around the Punta Piedras cliffs the night Mister Hanley was murdered.  He described that man to me."  He looks at Curry.  "He was describing you, Mister Jones."
Curry:  "Well, he's lying!  You saw me yourself in the dining room!"
Alcalde:  "Yes, but you left quite early."
Curry:  "I went upstairs and went to bed!"
Alcalde:  "Mister Jones, the witness described you right down to the boots you're wearing now.  I'm afraid there's no question any longer.  It's going to be a very short trial, I'm sure...not more than two hours.  Perhaps that will make up some of the time we've taken from you 'til now."
Curry:  "Seņor Alcalde, what happens if I'm found guilty?"
Alcalde:  Indicates the window in Curry's cell.  "Do you see the wall outside your window?"
Curry:  Looks.  "Yeah?"
Alcalde:  "You stand against that wall, and we shoot you.  That's what happens."
He walks away.  Curry and Heyes are stunned.  Heyes lays an arm on the crossbar, and drops his head onto his arm with a groan.
Curry:  Quietly desperate, after a moment.  "Heyes...you've gotta do something."
Heyes:  Looks up.  "Yeah, but what?"
Curry:  "Well, for whatever it's worth, Mrs. Hanley wasn't sure that Margaret Carruthers was really the woman she met in Lexington."
Heyes:  His face brightens.  "Kid, you may just have come up with the answer!  I've been wondering why my friend Mrs. Parker suddenly became bedridden."  He smiles.

Meg is still in bed, reading a book.  She looks up as she hears a knock at her door.
Meg:  "Who is it?"
Heyes:  "Joshua."
Meg:  "Oh...Joshua, well, come in.  The door's unlocked."
Heyes enters, followed by Mrs. Hanley.
Mrs. Hanley:  "Hello, Miss Carruthers.  Don't you remember me?"
Meg:  She stares in surprise. Finally, "I'm sorry--I don't understand.  My name's Parker."
Mrs. Hanley:  Walks forward, shaking her head.  "It was Margaret Carruthers when we met ten years ago in Lexington."
Meg:  "Lexington?"
Mrs. Hanley:  "Lexington, Kentucky, as you well know."
Meg:  Irritated.  "Joshua, I know how desperate you are to help your friend, but isn't this just a bit unfair?  Why, I've never been to Kentucky--let alone Lexington--in all my life!  My maiden name is Stanfill and I grew up in Ohio.  You'll find my papers over there in that little case.  I am from Cleveland, Ohio!"

Curry is restlessly pacing in his cell.  He stops at the window and looks out, toward the wall.  We hear a roll of drums.  The Alcalde comes out a door, followed by Curry, hands tied behind his back, and then by the two policemen, carrying rifles.  They walk down several steps and march to a wall that's scarred with bullet holes.  They stop, Curry in front of the wall, a policemen on either side of him.
Alcalde:  "Atencion!"  To Curry, "Do you wish to be blindfolded?"
Curry:  "No."
Alcalde:  "Very well."
The two policemen move away from Curry, and line up with two other policemen with rifles.  At a safe distance, the Alcalde calls out the orders to the firing squad.
Alcalde:  "Listos!  Apunten!"  The men raise their rifles, cock them, and take aim.  "Fuego!"
We hear a pop, like a cork gun makes.  Curry walks away from the window, shaken by the little nightmare he's just experienced.

Heyes has been looking through Meg's papers.
Mrs. Hanley:  Angrily,  "I don't care what her papers say, this is the woman who was introduced to me on the street in Lexington by my husband as Margaret Carruthers!"  She exits the room.
Heyes tosses the folder of papers on the bed.
Heyes:  "Don't you think it's time you started telling the truth, Meg?  One of the local people claims he saw my friend at the scene of the murder.  I'm sure this 'witness' was well paid, and Thaddeus is gonna be tried in two days...and he may just be dead in two days."
Meg:  "Well, I'm sorry, but that woman was wrong!  I've never seen her before in my life!"
Heyes:  "Meg, I've only known you a little while.  But I think I know this much--you couldn't live with yourself if something serious happened to my friend."
Meg:  "Well, thank you.  That's true.  I mean, I just couldn't live with myself if I were responsible for someone's death.  But, I'm sure if he's innocent nothing will happen to him.  And I...I just can't help him!"
Heyes:  "Meg, he is innocent, but the evidence as it stands may get him shot!  I want you to think about that.  Whatever it is you're hiding...is it important enough to let a man die for it?"

Heyes walks past the stable.  He notices the filly's stall is empty.  The stableman is brushing another horse.
Heyes:  "Hey Amigo!"
Stableman:  Turns.  "Seņor?"
Heyes:  He indicates the empty stall.  "Where's Hyperia?"
Stableman:  "Ah.  The Seņora Hanley--she put a saddle on her and took her out.  Maybe for some exercise?"

At the villa, the door is opened by the servant.  Mrs. Hanley comes in.
Mrs. Hanley:  "Excuse me."
Margaret is seated in the living room.  She rises as Mrs. Hanley enters.
Margaret:  "Mrs. Hanley...what brings you back so soon?"
Mrs. Hanley:  "The truth.  I know now that you're not Margaret Carruthers."
Margaret:  Angrily, "Mrs. Hanley, I don't know what you're trying to do, but I can prove who I am--perhaps more easily than you can prove who you are!"
She turns, crosses to a bureau, opens a wooden box, and removes some papers.  She takes them to Mrs. Hanley and hands them to her.
Margaret:  "My birth certificate--Lexington, Kentucky--and my passport."
Mrs. Hanley:  Looks at the papers.  "I don't know where you got these.  They look genuine enough.  But you're not the woman my husband introduced to me as Margaret Carruthers.  I saw that woman just now in the hotel in Santa Marta.  I want you to come with me to the Alcalde's office."
Margaret:  "I certainly will.  I'd like to meet this woman that you claim is Margaret Carruthers.  I'll take my buggy, if you don't mind.  I don't ride horseback.  That is, if you trust me to go into town by myself?"
Mrs. Hanley:  "I'll ride with you.  I can come back for my horse later."
Margaret:  "If you wish."

Margaret and Mrs. Hanley are riding in a buggy.  They pass a fork in the road.
Mrs. Hanley:  "Where are we going?  Wasn't that the road to town back there?"
Margaret:  "On horseback, yes, but with a buggy this road is much quicker and smoother."

Heyes rides toward the villa.  When he arrives, the door is opened by the servant.  She greets him in Spanish.
Heyes:  "How do you do?  Mister Smith to see Miss Carruthers."
Servant:  "Oh, Miss Carruthers and Seņora Hanley went to Santa Marta."
Heyes:  "How long ago?"
Servant:  "A few minutes--in Miss Carruthers' coche."
Heyes:  "Thank you very much."

Heyes is riding at a gallop, eyes on the tracks of the buggy in the dusty road.  He takes the road Margaret took.

Mrs. Hanley is sure now they are not heading toward town.
Mrs. Hanley:  "Stop this buggy!  We're not going to town at all!"
Margaret ignores her and instead whips the horse.  Mrs. Hanley reaches over to take hold of the reins.  They struggle for control.  The horse stops.  Mrs. Hanley, knocked out by a blow from the whip butt, falls out of the buggy.  Margaret jumps to the ground.  She moves toward the unconscious Mrs. Hanley with the whip raised.  She sees Heyes riding fast toward her, and crouches next to Mrs. Hanley in apparent concern.

Margaret and Mrs. Hanley are seated at opposite ends of the Alcalde's desk.  A policemen stands in front of the door.
Margaret:  "Perhaps grief has affected her mind, Seņor Cordoba, because everything she told you is a lie.  The horse reared, and she was thrown out of the buggy.  To say that I tried to hit her with the butt of my whip--that I was trying to kill her...why, that's insane!  I was trying to help her when Mister Smith rode up!"
Mrs. Hanley:  "Seņor Cordoba, when Mister--" 
She breaks off as Heyes and Meg Parker enter.
Heyes:  "Alcalde, this is Mrs. Meg Parker.  She has something important to tell you."
Alcalde:  Rising.  "Please be seated, Seņora Parker."
The policeman brings another chair and Meg sits between Margaret and Mrs. Hanley.  The Alcalde listens intently to her story.
Meg:  "I'm very sorry, Mister Alcalde, that I didn't speak up sooner.  I came to Santa Marta because I read a newspaper article in Lexington about the death of Rolf Hanley.  At the end of the article it added that a wealthy former resident of Lexington, a Miss Margaret Carruthers, also lives in Santa Marta.  It was a very strange feeling, reading that...because I am Margaret Carruthers."
Margaret:  "She's lying!"
Alcalde:  To Margaret, "Seņora, please--" 
Margaret:  "But she is!  I can prove it!"
Alcalde:  "Please!"  To Meg, "Continue, Seņora Parker."
Meg:  "Well, I was born and raised in Lexington--and I was anything but wealthy.  Quite the opposite.  But having just lost my husband, I felt free to come here to see who was using my identity...and why."
Margaret:  "She came here to blackmail me, and I threw her out!"
Alcalde:  "Seņora, please!"
Meg:  "I only hope that I can be forgiven for thinking that I could come here and accept money from her..."  She looks at Margaret.  "...in return for keeping silent."
Margaret:  Triumphant.  "There!  You see?!"
Meg:  "This woman is Elizabeth Carter.  We went to school together in Lexington, although we weren't part of the same group.  Her mother ran a bordello, and at the age of eighteen she ran off with an outlaw named Charles Morgan."
Margaret:  "That's not true!!"
Meg:  "After a time we heard that she'd killed Morgan's brother, stolen a huge sum of money from the Morgan gang and had just disappeared.  The newspapers said she'd been murdered--"
Margaret springs at Meg and gets her hands around Meg's throat.  Heyes pulls Margaret away as the policeman comes forward to protect Meg.

Curry is in his cell, sitting on his bunk, leaning against the wall.  He hears the sound of the key in his cell door and looks up.  A policeman opens the cell door and Heyes enters.
Heyes:  Seriously, "Well, I did it, Thaddeus."
Curry:  "You did what?"
Heyes:  Grins. "Brought off the miracle!"
Curry's expression changes from hopelessness to joy.
Curry:  Shouts. "Heyes!"  He claps his hand over his mouth.

In the hotel room, Heyes is sitting on a settee sewing up the hole in Curry's hat.  Curry is relaxing in a bathtub, smoking a cigar, and listening to Heyes.
Heyes:  "...so there was Elizabeth Carter with a fortune in cash and a very angry Morgan mob lookin' for her.  So she decided she better become a permanent resident somewhere else.  Which takes papers--like a birth certificate of her quiet little friend Margaret Carruthers.  With that, you can get a passport."
Curry:  "Heyes, is it that easy?"
Heyes:  "It was that easy--until Rolf Hanley came along and decided to pay a surprise visit on his old friend Margaret Carruthers...and found someone else--Elizabeth Carter, whom he also knew."
Heyes leans forward to show Curry his mending job.  Curry looks at it, then at Heyes.

In front of the hotel, Mrs. Hanley is standing behind the stagecoach with Hyperia.  Curry and Heyes emerge, carrying their bags.
Heyes:  "Goodbye, Mrs. Hanley."
Mrs. Hanley:  "Goodbye, Mister Smith.  Oh, Mister Jones?"
Curry:  "Yes, ma'am?"
Mrs. Hanley:  "I'm sure my husband didn't get a chance to pay you for your services, did he?"
Curry:  "No, ma'am, I didn't finish the job."
Mrs. Hanley:  "Well, if you and Mister Smith would accompany me to El Rancho Verde, I'd be happy to pay you both.  My husband only needed a bodyguard, I need a bodyguard...and a chaperone."
Curry:  "That's very generous, ma'am."
Heyes:  "Well, I think you've got a deal, Mrs. Hanley."
Mrs. Hanley:  "Good."
Curry helps Mrs. Hanley into the coach.  He and Heyes toss their bags up to the driver, then climb in after her, and the coach starts off.

Closing Theme and Credits