- Sheriff: That's the third wagon train we've lost on that run this summer.
- Bat Masterson: What's out there? Commanches?
- Sheriff: Worse! A pack of the meanest, low-down sand skunks that ever breathed air. Read that poster in the basket.
- Bat Masterson: [reading] Wanted: two thousand dollar reward for unknown trail pirates - dead or alive.
- Sheriff: Sandstorms blew that desert clear of wagon tracks leadin' to water. A man has to depend on trail markers. Them buzzards switch 'em wrong. Train follows a dry trail - those pirates wait for the people to die of thirst, then move in and clean the wagons.
- Bat Masterson: Nice, friendly way to make a living.
- Bat Masterson: We have lots to settle if we're going out in the morning.
- Ellen Parish: I have no intention of trusting my people with a gambler - whatever it is about the gun.
- Bat Masterson: Did it ever occur to you that you and your folks are gamblers crossing that desert?
- Ellen Parish: Gamblers?
- Bat Masterson: You're playing for bigger stakes than you'll find on those tables. A man with a gun might come in handy.
- Bat Masterson: It's kind of a custom out here, ma'am. When you see a man draw a gun, you better draw yours. If I hadn't, I might be shaking hands with St. Peter.
- Ellen Parish: Then I'm not quite sure you know just where St. Peter is stationed.
- Ellen Parish: When we get to California, we could use a man like you to help get us settled. Would you care for the job?
- Bat Masterson: Well, some folks are settlers and some just want to see what's over the next range and some, maybe, what's going on in the next town.
- [first lines]
- Narrator: July 27, 1879. Good Springs, in the Nevada desert, where water is life and the desert is death. From the history of Bat Masterson, who became a legend in his own time.