[upon receiving an emergency telegram, Jim gives his stacks of poker chips to a beautiful saloon girl]
Jim Hardie: They're all yours, Dixie.
Dixie: You're kidding! For what?
Jim Hardie: For nothing - right now. But I'll think of somethin' before I get back.
[a telegraph key rattles off a message]
Jim Hardie: Da-dot-da-dot-dot. There it goes again - the same old message I've received a hundred times. Jim Hardie - Washoe Hotel or Capitol Bar - Washoe, Nevada: report Benson Colfax immediately, Hopper. Never can you, will you or is it convenient or anything like that. No, just report. Now, pronto or quicker if possible. If I was lying in my coffin, I'd be expected to get up and report. That's the way Wells Fargo trained their men.
Dixie: When are you going to stop playing around, Jim and settle down?
Jim Hardie: Well, whenever you say the word. What are you drinkin'?
Dixie: The usual.
Jim Hardie: Two beers.
Dixie: You know, I think you're a little bit too late, mister. I just got myself engaged while you were gone.
Jim Hardie: You're kidding! You can't do that - it's not fair to all the customers.