- Bat Masterson: One dead, the other on his way to Yuma prison. "We all live our destined hour and pass along the way." - Omar Khayyam
- [last lines]
- [Bat and Gwen Parsons sit at a table in a restaurant. Bat pulls a bundle of cash from his jacket pocket and lays it on the table]
- Bat Masterson: You're in good shape, Gwen. Seventy-five thousand dollars can buy you a mighty fine ranch... even in Sacramento Valley.
- Gwen Parsons: That's twenty-five thousand more than my share, Bat.
- Bat Masterson: That twenty-five thousand dollars represents half of my share. I'd like to buy an interest in your place, providing, of course, it's agreeable with you. That way I'd always have a feeling that I had a place to... come home to.
- Gwen Parsons: Well, what do we call the ranch, Bat?
- Bat Masterson: You own it, you name it.
- Gwen Parsons: I think I'd like to call it the "50-50."
- Bat Masterson: I like that. Shall we, ah, seal the deal - 50-50?
- [they kiss]
- Bat Masterson: Well, I'll, ah, I'll be back at roundup time, ma'am.
- [Bat rises from his chair]
- Gwen Parsons: Goodbye, Bat.
- [first lines]
- Narrator: Tucson, Arizona. The annual convention of the National Cattle Ranchers Association was in its last few days. One big event still remained: the drawing of the one-hundred-thousand-dollar lottery. Meanwhile, in a private room of the Arizona Palace Hotel, four men were engaged in their own little enterprise: poker. Andrew Stafford, English cattle baron from Texas; Jack Lattigo, promoter, man about town; Sonny Parsons, feed business operator in Tucson; and Bat Masterson, the man who became a legend in his own time.