Dulcey Coopersmith: Do you know a man named Purcell? Logan Purcell?
Francis Wilde: Do we! He's a tough customer.
Angus MacGregor: Aye, and that bunch of ruffians he runs with - very unpleasant indeed.
Dulcey Coopersmith: Outlaws?
Francis Wilde: Sort of like Quantrill's Raiders.
Angus MacGregor: But smaller and meaner. For years they've been hitting every isolated Indian village in the Outlet, leeching off their food and hides.
Dulcey Coopersmith: And now their blood.
Marshal Jim Crown: There seems to me there's something especially female flittin' around in that brain of yours.
Dulcey Coopersmith: No, just the usual female nonsense.
Marshal Jim Crown: I'll bet there is.
Angus MacGregor: Aye, a strange girl that one - deep, wild...
Francis Wilde: Yeah, but what a story this is going to be, Mac...
Angus MacGregor: Jim's gonna have his hands full with her.
Francis Wilde: Raised by Indians, enslaved by outlaws...
Angus MacGregor: And he doesn't even suspect it yet, I warrant.
Francis Wilde: ...risked her own life to shelter him and nurse him back to health...
Angus MacGregor: But it's plain to see - shines out of her eyes every time she looks at him.
Francis Wilde: ...then discovery - flight - a dramatic escape!
Angus MacGregor: The girl's fallen in love with him - that means trouble!
Francis Wilde: That's a perfect happy ending! Mac, sometimes I don't think you know what you're talkin' about.
Angus MacGregor: Happy endings indeed. Frances, you're daft!