FADE IN:
EXT. DESERT ROAD - DAY
A lone rider makes his way along the road. He's slight, just
a boy and dressed in plain clothes. A gun belt is slung low
around his hips. His head hangs a bit. He's visibly tired. A
town slowly comes into view.

EXT. TOWN - DAY - NOON
The rider continues his ambling pace into town. It's noon
and people are on their way home for lunch. Several people
stop and stare and the rider as he passes by. He stops in
front of a saloon, leaving the horse at the tie rack.

INT. SALOON
The rider pushes through the crowded saloon to the bar. We
see a BOWIE KNIFE sheathed at the small of his back. The men
around him are much taller than he.

MAN
Well, lookee here! Ain't you late
for lunch at your mama's, boy?
(he laughs)

SECOND MAN
Let up, Jeb. The boy looks thirsty.
Let'em drink.

JEB
Haw! Drink? Drink what? This ain't
no place for boy. Crowded enough in
here, to my mind.

The rider looks blandly at Jeb. In a flash, a knife appears
just under Jeb's chin.

THE RIDER
Looks like you had too much to
drink, friend. Am I right?

Jeb's eyes are bugging out of his head. Sweat starts to form
on his upper lip. He nods.

THE RIDER
Then you best be on your way. Like
you said, place's crowded enough.

Jeb slinks away. Looking over his shoulder. Suddenly, he
whips around. Takes a shot at THE RIDER. He misses. Before
Jeb's GUN is holstered, the Rider throws his BOWIE KNIFE. It
sticks into Jeb's upper thigh. Jeb falls, writhing on the
floor. THE RIDER strides over and pulls his KNIFE out. Wipes
it on Jeb's leg.

JEB
You piece a shit! You ain't seen
the last a me!

THE RIDER looks calmly at Jeb as some men take him away.

INT. SALOON - BAR
THE RIDER returns to the bar. THE SECOND MAN is still there.
He is tall, slim with a trimmed graying mustache.

SECOND MAN
You handle a knife pretty well,
son.

THE RIDER
What's it to you?

THE SECOND MAN flips up a lapel on his suitcoat to reveal a
sheriff's star.

SHERIFF
Why don't we set down over there
with a beer and have a little talk?

THE RIDER nods. THE SHERIFF orders the beers and they sit at
a small table in a far corner. A piano player starts his
TINNY MUSIC. The beer arrives.

SHERIFF
Samuel Connolly.
CONNOLLY offers his hand. They shake.

THE RIDER
Luke Keaton.

CONNOLLY takes a sip of beer.

CONNOLLY
Like I said. You handle a knife
good. Especially for one so young.
You're what? Seventeen, eighteen?

LUKE
Sixteen.

CONNOLLY
Yeah. I 'spect Jeb had it comin'.
He'll be having a limp after he
heals, I gather.

LUKE
So do you arrest me now, or after I
finish my beer?

CONNOLLY
Clear case of self-defense. It's
Jeb that will be doing some time.
Not you.

LUKE
Sure didn't look that way. You let
his friends get him away safe.

CONNOLLY
They're deputies. Jeb'll be over at
the Doc's now. When he's well
enough, he'll be over at the jail
for a spell.

LUKE shrugs and finishes his beer. He pushes away from the
table.

CONNOLLY
Before you go son, I'd like to know
a bit about your business here.

LUKE
Nothin' much. Just passing through.
Been on the road awhile. Aim to get
a bath, dinner and a good bed. Be
on my way tomorrow.

CONNOLLY
Okay, son. You watch yourself. I
might not be around the next time
you use that knife.
LUKE nods and leaves the saloon.