The proprietor of Hartman's Trading Post comes clomping down the stairs and yells, "Can I help you?" Luke says, "Yeah. I'm looking for this rebel cowboy but all I can seem to find is this old storekeeper!" They embrace. Okay -- the brother's name is Harmon Hartman. Harmon. Hartman. What a ridiculous name. I mean, any actor would have to swallow his pride reading this damn script, thinking to himself, "It's a job -- yes, it's a job, and I need to pay my rent." But sheesh, couldn't his name have been Albert or something? Harmon freaking Hartman sounds like his porn star name.
The brothers are sitting at a table, having a drink. The alcohol makes Luke wince, and he asks, "Grace makes this?" Harmon nods. "Your Grace?" Harmon says, "Boston Brahmin brews Cactus Crude." Luke rubs his chest. Wow. That must hurt on the way down! They look through the photo album back. Harmon toasts to family, and what it takes to make one. Luke toasts to their parents, how he's happy they're together again in heaven, and he "hopes they're dancing." They drink. Harmon says, "So you brought all this stuff all the way out here, huh? So, you're going to stay awhile, right?" Luke: "Well, actually I'm hoping to clerk at a court in Boston next term." Harmon says, "Did Dad make you promise to join the firm? Tried that with me, and bam! Here I am." Did anyone call his or her father "Dad" in the "olden" days? Hell, even if we go by Little House on the Prairie, they called him "Pa" or "Father" -- never "Dad." But hell, if I'm criticizing the WB for making the dialogue more modern, I should look at the ridiculousness of the entire project. Right. Suspension of disbelief is being activated right now. Harmon says, "He did -- didn't he?" Luke says they talked about it. Harmon continues, "That was his firm, Luke, his dream. Two years ago you said you wanted to help people, now you want to be a lawyer?" What, like the two are completely mutually exclusive? Luke says, "Well, justice is created by the justice system, right?" Harmon: "Ha! Laws are created by the legal system, justice is created by men and women every day." Luke didn't travel hundreds of miles just for a lesson in philosophy, Harmon -- take a deep breath and step down off your high horse. Luke walks over to inspect the stock. He gives Harmon crap for storing rouge next to blasting powder because it has paraffin in it, and one spark means the whole place would blow to smithereens. Take note, people: this little chemistry lesson will come in handy in about an hour. Yawn. Just wait a second; I've got to pry the hammer out of my head so I can continue typing.
Kansas City Haas comes barreling in the door screaming, "Harmon! We've got 'em!" Kansas City (now there's a cowboy name) sees Luke and asks, "Who the hell is this?" Introductions are made. Harmon says, "You can trust him." Luke holds out his hand and says, "Nice to meet you, Kansas." Kansas guffaws: "That's only 'cause you don't know me." Everyone has a good laugh about that one. Kansas tells Harmon that the "gang" is a two-days ride north. Harmon puts on a Texas Rangers badge and asks if the rest of their law-riding gang is ready. (Insert shivers of horrible recognition on my part as visions of Dawson in a ten-gallon come flooding back.) Kansas says they're waiting outside, and then turns to Luke and says, "What about little Yankee Doodle here?" Luke enthusiastically replies, "Sure!" Harmon categorically says, "No! You just hang out here." Okay. Everyone take note that Kansas City Haas has a beard. The Hoodlums had beards. In fact, all the bad guys are scruffy-looking with stubble. No one wears black or white anymore to distinguish their "badness" -- oh no, they just grow beards, so I guess a beard is the new black. ["Everyone take note also that Harmon just used the phrase 'hang out.'" -- Sars] As Harmon readies his kit to leave, Luke scrambles after him, asking him what the hell is going on and where the heck is he going. Harmon apologizes about taking off so soon after Luke arrived, but they've finally found this gang of hired guns they've been chasing. Harmon: "They call themselves the Regulators. These animals have been scaring people off their properties to make room for the railroad that's going to come in." Oh, and Kansas City's eating an apple. That's right. The fruit that felled Adam and ended up getting man kicked out of the Garden of Eden. The sure sign that Kansas City's on bad dude. Yawn. Symbolism should be subtle, people. Do you need me to look that word up in the dictionary? Oh, right, you don't care about subtlety -- this is a show on the WB, right, I get it. So I should just leave the hammer in my head for the duration of the next few hours? Okay, will do. But I have to tell you that the loss of blood is making me kind of sleepy.