Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Give me them turnips.

Any sign of Injuns, Ellie?

Miss Jane's car just turned to the gate.

They've been putting you on.

She's got the notion the crow feeds on the warpath and grabbed Cousin Pearl.

They've been laying back trying to catch us off guard.

It's not for your young, tender ears.

Won't you come in?

Why, he'd give the Indians his whole oil field and his money to boot.

That day, Mr. Drysdale, that Crowfoot tribe will be on us like a pack of wolves, racing around the house on their war ponies, screeching their blood curdling yells, flinging their lances and tommyhawks, shooting their burning arrows.

Well, good yet, I don't know how you made out with the Chief, but I sure gave his son a skinning.

That's the bravest thing I've ever seen.

You're after the Clampett money, too!

Well, so long, little fox.

He's not... Chief, what in the name of Tonto are you doing?

Forget oil and take them gifts.

So he could slip through their lines, Ellie.

That ain't no watch.