Drive To Fort Huachuca

Slaughter's my name. Luke Slaughter. Cavill's my business. It's a tough business. It's big business. I've got a big stake in it. There's no man west of the Rio grand big enough to take it from me.

Luke Slaughter of Tombstone. Luke Slaughter of Tombstone. Civil war cavalry man turned Arizona a cattle man. Across the territory from Yuma to Fort Defiance, from Flagstaff to the Wachukas, And below the border through Chihuahua and Sonora, his name was respected, or feared, depending on which side of the law you were on.

Man of vision, man of legend, Luke Slutter of Tombstone. Yeah, those are good cattle all right, Slutter. That and we've been buying for the fort. Cattle's my business, Captain. What do you give me for them?

$35 a head. Fair enough. Of course that's delivered at Fort Wachuca. Well, now that'll be $10 a head more. It's only 40 miles. Two days of trail herding. That takes time and riders. Yeah, all right.

But if the beef isn't delivered to the fort by day after tomorrow, it's no deal. I'll have the herd there. Very well. See you at the fort, slaughter. So long, Wichita. Hey, goodbye, Captain. So long.

Luke, slaughter? You ain't telling me all you know. I never have Wichita, and I'm too old to start now. How come the cavalry is willing to pay ten dollars ahead for delivery when they got riders all over the place and control them cattle?

Trail herdens a job for cowpokes, not soldiers. These critters are no trouble to handle? Nope, but other critters might be. Would these other critters be too lagged? Yeah. The trouble with you, Wichita, is you don't pay enough attention to what's going on.