Samuel Gerard: Well, shit, sheriff.
Sheriff Rollins: Okay boys, gather around here and listen up. We're shuttin' it down, Wyatt Earp's here to mop up.
Dep. Biggs: If they can dye the river green today, why can't they dye it blue the other 364 days of the year?
Bones: What ever happened with that thing about your wife?
Samuel Gerard: Listen up, ladies and gentlemen. Our fugitive has been on the run for 90 minutes. Average foot speed over unever ground barring injuries is four miles per hour; that gives us a radius of six miles. What I want out of each and every one of you is a hard target search of every gas station, residence, warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse and doghouse in that area. Checkpoints go up at fifteen miles. Your fugitive's name is Dr. Richard Kimble. Go get him.
U.S. Marshal Samuel Gerard: Newman, what are you doing?
Cosmo Renfro: When I die, I'm gonna come back just like you.
U.S. Marshal Erin Poole: Care to revise your statement, sir?
U.S. Marshal Samuel Gerard: I want a whole bunch of phone taps. You tell him I'll call him up later and tell on whom - IF I'm in a good mood.
U.S. Marshal Samuel Gerard: Let that be a lesson to you, boys and girls. Don't ever argue with the big dog, because the big dog is always right.
Dr. Richard Kimble: I didn't kill my wife!
Detective Kelly: We were just informed by the U.S. Marshal's Office that Doctor Richard Kimble is alive and well and living in the city of Chicago. Now you all know in what high regard I hold the scumbag. So I am personally donating a bottle of twelve-year-old Scotch to whoever puts the collar on this quack.
U.S. Marshal Samuel Gerard: Doctor Nichols, you really want to help him? You really want to be his friend? Then you'll help us bring him in, unharmed.
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