- [Herk puts on his glasses as his small posse prepares to ambush a large band of Apaches]
- Herk Lamson: Hold it!
- Young Deputy: I thought those glasses were for readin', Marshal.
- Herk Lamson: Arithmetic, too - count 'em!
- Marshal Simon Fry: Charley, we don't need no telegraph between here and Silver City - all we gotta do is let you open your mouth!
- Herk Lamson: Fran, why is a young and pretty girl like you working so late?
- Fran McCord: Just putting some merchandise out for tomorrow's rush and I've got just the thing for you - new from the East. They go around your shoes... they're call "spits".
- Clay McCord: Spats! They're kind of a vest for your boots. You might be interested, Herk. Keeps your foot clean in case you're going to put your foot in your mouth.
- Marshal Simon Fry: When a man goes against his own kind, Charley, you got more trouble than you can bury in one grave.