[When Simon sees a man standing beside the road, he brings his stagecoach to a stop]
Frank Walker: You shouldn't have stopped.
Simon Kane: Out here when a man doesn't have a horse under him, he's likely to be lookin' for a ride when he can get one.
Frank Walker: You don't even know who he is! Why, he could be a gunman, an outlaw or anything!
Simon Kane: When you put it that way, Mister, I don't happen to know who you are, either.
Simon Kane: Oh, I got a letter for you.
Zeke Bonner: For me? I never get any mail... mainly because I don't know anybody who can write.
[Molly, a newly hired saloon girl, nearly chokes on a glass of whiskey]
Simon Kane: Your, ah, first?
Molly Moriarty: I'll soon be used to the stuff... and maybe liking it, too.
Simon Kane: I wouldn't bet on it.
Molly Moriarty: It runs in me family. You see, my father died a drunkard.