But if you want me to put on any more Western stuff, you'll have to let me weed out some of these Main Street cowboys that Clements wished on to me, and go out in the sagebrush and round up some that ain't all hair hatbands and high-heeled boots and bluff.

I've got to have some whites to fill the foreground, if I give up the Injuns; or else I quit Western stuff altogether.

I've been stalling along and keeping the best of the bucks in the foreground, and letting these said riders lope in and out of scenes and pile off and go to shooting soon as the camera picks them up, but with the Injuns gone, the whites won't get by.
"Maybe you have noticed that when there was any real riding, I've had the Injuns do it.

And do you think I've been driving that stagecoach hell-bent from here to beyond because I'd no other way to kill time?
Wasn't another darned man in the outfit I'd trust, that's why.

If I take the Indians back, I've got to have some real boys." Luck's voice was plaintive, and a little bit desperate.
"Well, dammit, _have_ your real boys! I never said you shouldn't.