Jellon Lamb: [speaking about Arthur Burns] We are white men, Sir, not beasts. Oh, he sits up there in those melancholy hills; some say he sleeps in caves like a beast, slumbers deep like the Kraken. The blacks say that he is a spirit. The troopers will never catch him. Common force is meaningless, Mr. Murphy, as he squats up there on his impregnable perch. So I wait, Mr. Murphy. I wait.
Charlie Burns: [Knocks Jellon out with a beer mug] Aye, you wait. You wait here... bounty hunter.
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