Sheriff Burnett: Set a wagon outside of town and put as much food on it as you can spare. If they eat, they'll behave. And you women, all of you, stay inside. Understand? Now let's get moving. C'mon.
Pollicut: Fill a wagon. So now, these bandits gotta be fought with bread and butter. When are we gonna see some law and common sense in this town?
Regina: When somebody hangs you.
Sheriff Burnett: Tell me something, old-timer. Are we within the jurisdiction of Snow Hill County?
Coachman: Yep. You can arrest or hang anyone you want.
Pauline: Once, my husband told me of this man. He avenges our wrongs. And the bounty killers sure do tremble when he appears. They call him "Silence." Because wherever he goes, the silence of death follows.
Ending title card: The massacres of 1898, year of the Great Blizzard, finally brought forth fierce public condemnation of the bounty killers, who, under the guise of false legality, made violent murder a profitable way of life. For many years there was a clapboard sign at Snow Hill which carried this legend: MEN'S BOOTS CAN KICK UP THE DUST OF THIS PLACE FOR A THOUSAND YEARS, BUT NOTHING MAN CAN EVER DO WILL WIPE OUT THE BLOOD STAINS OF THE POOR FOLK WHO FELL HERE.
Pollicut: Pauline. A pleasure to see you. What can I do for you? Is there something you wanna buy?
Pauline: I didn't come to buy. I came to sell.
Pollicut: And what are you sellin'?
Pauline: Our house. It cost at least five thousand dollars. I'll give it to you for a thousand... 'cause you like cheap things.
Tigrero, a.k.a. Loco: Can't a man provide for his old age?
Sheriff Burnett: I don't think you're gonna make it.
