[after eluding the sheriff by swimming underwater, John emerges on the far side of the lake at the feet of a tall gunslinger]
John Brant: Well, I guess you got me.
Joseph Conlon: [snorts] Come on out, stranger. I ain't the law. You're a pretty smart hombre and you got plenty of nerve. It strikes me that the boss could use somebody like you. What's your name?
[John glares at him]
Joseph Conlon: Smith, ain't it. That's the handle most of you fast travelers use. Aw, it's as good a name as any. Mine's Jones!
[they shake hands]
Joseph Conlon: Say, you're pretty near all in, ain't ya. Better come up with me to the hideout and meet the Big Chief. We're short a coupla hands.