Buford: But I shot that horse!

Doc: Well that's your problem, Tannen!

Buford: Wrong. That's yours. So from now on, you better be looking behind you when you walk. 'Cause one day you gonna get a bullet in your back. (to his gang) Let's go!

They leave. Marty and Doc are now alone.

Marty: Doc...

Doc: Marty! I gave you explicit instructions not to come here but to go back directly to 1985.

Marty: I know Doc, but I had to co-

Doc: But its good to see you, Marty.

They hug.

Doc: Marty, you're gonna have to do something about those clothes. You walk around town dressed like that and you're liable to get shot.

Marty makes a gesture around his neck.

Marty: Or hanged.

Doc: What idiot dressed you in that outfit?

Marty claps his hand on Doc's shoulder and smiles.

Marty: You did.

Cut to Doc's blacksmith workshop. It is full of the necessary things he needs for the job and also with a few inventions. Whilst Marty changes into real 19th Century clothes, Doc examines the tombstone with his magnifying glass.

Doc: (reading) "Shot in the back by Buford Tannen over a matter of 80 dollars!" September 7th! That's this Monday! Now I wish I'd paid him off. And whose this beloved Clara? I don't know anyone named Clara.

Marty: I dunno, Doc. I thought maybe she was a girlfriend of yours.

Doc looks at Marty as if Marty just said something very silly.

Doc: Marty. My involvement in such a social relationship, here in 1885, the result is a disruption of the space-time continuum. As a scientist, I can never take that risk, certainly not after we've already been through.

Mayor Hubert: (o.s) Emmett! Ho, Emmett!

Doc looks out the door.

Doc: Hubert! (to Marty) It's the mayor!

MAYOR HUBERT comes just inside the door.