Cookie and Arizona Reminisce About the Women They've Known

I own the red horse ranch. Now let's visit Red Horse Ranch. It's a beautiful moonlight night out on the western plains and it's just the kind of

a night to make any cowboy want to sing. And that's just what they're doing. The Red Horse outfit are all down in the bunkhouse with the exception of Arizona, who's out where he can get a better look at the moon.

Let's listen. I don't want to know what they do. I cook, eat what you're doing not here but yourself.

Oh, that you miss that, owner. I just listen to that sort of music. Think about my old gal, Louise. What you doing here? Oh, shop. With them singing this moonlight out here. I got the feeling kind of romantic.

You mean as though, did you used to have a gal? Hey, listen, Cookie. I guess you don't know. You're looking at the lamp, chappin' Lady Killer of Arizona. I never killed no gal, but I sure would like to see Louise.

And you got no gal you want to see? No, but there's plenty of gal that like to see me. That singing makes me think of a little red-headed gal named and Gertie back in Phoenix. She sure was parable. Sorry that I packed out of there.

What for you pack out? Oh, shut up. Her paw wandered a merry city guy. I didn't think her Gertie was worth wearing stiff-collar sport. Her daddy made me take all my spurs in the house. Ooh. She was a swell gal, though.

I was going mad, Louis, until I found out she had a husband. I didn't think I'd been There, then. I don't know. I guess Gertie's still waiting for me. And then there was Mamie, met her at a dance down in Tombstone.