Sheriff Hardy Collier: Sheriff Potts paid me a visit this morning.
John Wallace: Yeah? Wha'd he want?
Sheriff Hardy Collier: What he wants is the man who killed Wilson Turner.
John Wallace: Is that what's go you so bothered?
Sheriff Hardy Collier: Real bothered!
John Wallace: Well, Turner was nothing but thieving, weasely, white trash. What kinda man gonna go breakin' a sweat over the likes of him?
[chuckles to himself]
Sheriff Hardy Collier: Lamar Potts.
John Wallace: The man was insolent ... stole from me. I let him get away and every dirt farmer I got's gonna wanna start helping himself to my possessions. I had to kill Turner, it was business, Potts oughta understand that.
Sheriff Hardy Collier: Don't see things that way, John. Now if you don't walk right, Potts'll come atcha, and he keeps coming ... hey, you member the field hand that killed his wife and chopper her legs off? Now, Potts tracked him all the way to Kansas and yanked him outta a wheat field!
John Wallace: That was a nigger!
Sheriff Hardy Collier: It don't make no difference to him, John!
John Wallace: I don't believe you know who you're talking to! This is the Kingdom, this is Merryweather! Nobody round here gonna say a word against me!
Sheriff Hardy Collier: Except you didn't kill him in Merryweather! You killed him across the line, where there's Coweta wittnesses and a sheriff that won't quit. Now, I'm tellin' ya John ... if Potts can find a nigger in Kansas, he can sure find white trash in a swamp! Now, I don't know ... and I ... I don't wanna know where you dumped the body, but wherever it is ... better be hid good.
