Bart: All right, Sheriff, you're throwing me out of town. All right, no argument. But would you mind telling me why?
Sheriff: 'Cause you're a card sharp, Mr. Maverick.
Bart: They don't call me that when I lose.
Sheriff: Card sharps cause trouble … my job to keep things tranquil-like here in Medicine Forks.
Bart: No trouble when I came through town last year. A fella by the name of Gunther was sheriff then. Why don't you ask him about me?
Sheriff: Let me explain you something, Mr. Maverick. Two kinds of lawmen. Ones like me, use their heads. And the ones like Gunther, let their guns do their thinkin' for them. That's why he's on that hill up there, waitin' for Gabriel's trumpet. Why I'm down here, puttin' you out of town.