Jim Garry: I've seen dogs that wouldn't claim you for a son, Tate.
Jim Garry: I've been mixed up in a lot of things, Tate, but up to now, I've never been hired for my guns.
Tate Riling: Can you afford to be so particular?
Jake Pindalest: Here's the item we were talking about the other day. I think you'll find it satisfactory.
Tate Riling: United States dollars are usually satisfactory, aren't they?
Tate Riling: Your cut will be $10,000.
Jim Garry: What do I have to do to earn it?
Tate Riling: Lufton's tough and my ranchers aren't. You make up the difference.
Kris Barden: Did you ever notice how them four always stick together?
Fred Barden: Why not? Reardon and Shotten work for Riling, and Garry's a friend that just came in to help.
Kris Barden: I can buy me that kind of friend for $75 a month and no questions asked.
Jim Garry: Shotten, Reardon, and me. Hired gunmen.
Tate Riling: Shotten and Reardon get paid in gold eagles. You get paid in thousands.
Jim Garry: Yeah. Only difference between us is the price.
Jim Garry: It's about your son, Barden. He was killed in the raid.
Kris Barden: I figured maybe that's what happened when he didn't come home.
Jim Garry: I was with him when he got hit. Nothing I could do.
Kris Barden: Big price to pay for a little bit of grass.
Jim Garry: It starts with your double-cross of a bunch of jug-headed farmers and the hiring of gun hands. It goes on to your making love to a man's daughter to get her to turn against her own father, and your try for Lufton today. It's past that, to the death of Kris Barden's son, and it winds up right here, with Reardon waiting outside to see if I go with you, or if he shoots me in the back.