there’s horses down there in the yard. They’re saddle horses. Ain’t Injun ponies, anyways. Come over here. Hello, my two little loves. How are you? Hey, Josh, Morgan? You boys take care of this place
while I was gone? Yes, sir, Pa. Yesterday, Morgan shot a mountain lion
after the cows. Did you get him?
Just hit him. Waiting for you to get home
and I was gonna track him down. We’ll hunt him up in the morning. Can I go, Pa, can I? Now, look, you’re rabbit size,
Morgan’s cat size. – Josh is rabbit size.
– Now, that’s enough of that.Della.Now look at your mother.
Ever see a prettier mother anywhere? Did you bring the things
I asked you for? Everything you wanted. The gold, the silver, the spices,
the silk, everything. John Benedict, you know I mean
my new hairpins and shoes for Josh. They might be mixed up
in the gold and the silver. Now look, kids,
take care of the horses… and be sure you bring
those saddlebags back… we’ll poke around,
probably find something for everyone. Whit? I didn’t expect company. We rode out from town
this morning… not knowing you’d gone up
to La Junta for a little horse trading. Capt. Benedict, meet
Lt. Abel Lawson, Colorado State militia. – Lieutenant.
– An honour, Capt. Benedict. – I asked them to eat with us.
– Fine. Good. – l’ll call you when dinner’s ready.
– All right. Lieutenant, this is Free Hobson,
he works for me. – Hi.
– Come on in. Make yourselves comfortable,
l’ll go and get washed up. John, the Lieutenant and I are here
on a special sort of a visit. Oh? Yes, sir. l’d like to recruit
your son Morgan for West Point. Well, that takes
a congressman’s appointment. I think the Sheriff can tell you… that we didn’t give that man in Denver
many votes last time. But any man who holds a medal… his son can go to West Point
without a congressman’s appointment. I don’t think I want to use
the medal that way. Capt. John Benedict,
if Morgan was my son… l’d talk to him first
before I tried to be so danged noble. – That’s your opinion.
– You never asked me. May I discuss it
with your son, sir? I think if there’s anything
to be discussed, l’d better do it. Dinner will be ready soon. Stubborn. Always was. Stubborner than a cavalry mule. Now, where’d you get that, Free?
I went and got it out of your trunk. What is it, Ma? lt’s the Congressional
Medal of Honour. The President gave it to your pa.
lt’s pretty. Why don’t we keep it
on the mantle? I think your father prefers it
tucked away in the box. What did you do, Pa?
Why, Capt. John Benedict… I captured the entire Confederate Army
all by myself. Now isn’t that enough? There’s something very interesting
about that piece of gold.The man who holds it,
his son can go to West Point Academy.Providing he can measure up
to the other requirements, too. When would the Academy
be wanting a young fellow, Lieutenant? Next month, sir. First he’d have to go to Kansas
for his examinations.Then they’d put him on a steam train
to New York from there.Have to go right away, then?
Yes, sir. Yesterday, Morgan shot
a mountain lion… and l’d like to have him point out
where it happened. If you’ll excuse us. Where did you first sight him, Morgan? Way up on that south slope, Pa. He was stalking a calf
that wandered off from its mother. I got downwind of him. – Long shot?
– About 300 yards. But I hit him. I figure he’s got off into
one of the canyons to lick his wound. We’ll find him. – You’d like to go, wouldn’t you, Son?
– Sir? Well, you’d like to go to
West Point Academy, wouldn’t you? Yes, sir. Man graduates from there,
he can be an architect or an engineer… or almost anything he wants. One of the finest schools there is. I don’t think it’d be right for me to leave
you and old Free to do all the work here. You’ve been doing it all
ever since I can remember. – Do you think we can’t still do it?
– No. You can do anything, Pa. But I just don’t think it’s right. As you say. Lieutenant, l’ve had a discussion
with my son… and I think the Academy needs
men like him. He can go. Now, just a minute.
That is, if his mother approves. I never thought l’d have
a son from way out here… to go to West Point Academy. l’m glad for you, Morgan. l’ll hunt up that cat in the morning. You better help your mother
get yourself ready to go to Kansas. Thank you, Lieutenant. John.
Whit. Stay. Free! My God! Indians and Comancheros. Don’t go in there, Captain,
for God’s sake.God, don’t do it. Hey, Captain?Morgan. He was shooting from the barn. Morgan, Captain. Morgan! Morgan? Son? We fought them, Captain.
Me and Morgan. – We fought them.
– I know you did. I can’t swallow, Captain. Had my gut shot. Captain. I remember something. There was two white men with them. What did you say, Free? One man had a white eye. He was the boss. Captain? I got to sleep. John? Della? Whit, look over there. You men stay here. My God! Good God almighty! Buck Thomas’ place got hit last night. Buck’s all right… but the Indians ran off all his stock.We caught one of them.A white man. Comanchero. I want to see him. Get him down.
Take it easy… I just don’t want to look up at him. The man that worked for me… before he died said that
there were two of you. The leader had one white eye. What’s his name? Now those are your teeth. Next your eyes.
No! Tarp! His name’s Tarp!
Tarp? Where they going to trade the horses? I don’t know. Mexico! l’ll need that horse he’s riding. l’m going to track that bunch.
l’ll go and make a pack. We’re going to ride with you, John. – John.
– Yeah? Texas. Well, the trail goes that way. We’re a long way from home
and the men are tired. I want to thank all of you
for coming this far with me. There’s 1,000 miles out there
in any direction. Those Comancheros
could be anywhere. We’ve got nothing but time now,
and I got a feeling that… that one-eyed Comanchero bastard
knows somebody’s following him. But you’ve got a ranch back in Colorado. Whit, l’d appreciate it
if you’d board it up… sell the cattle and the rest of the
livestock, and send me a bank order… – at Fort Stockton.
– Anything you say. A man can’t even enjoy his lunch. I speak good American, no? Very good. Muy bueno. Okay. Tell me… l’m looking for a place called
Pueblo Plata. Pueblo Plata lies to the West. It’s a hiding place where outlaw
Kiowa, Comanches… and Apache Indians
bring stolen horses… and trade them for guns and tequila. I won’t go there alone, seòor. Do you know any men
that would go with me? In this place, no. All these people are poor people
and they work in mines. What about those prisoners
I saw in the wagon? They’re convict labourers. They work up in the silver mines. Where do they come from? El Hoyo. You would say, The Hole. A prison 5 kilometres down to the south.Hablas inglés, seòor?A little, seòor. l’d like to see your commandant. I want to hire some men
to work in my mine. I am the Commandant’s interpreter. My name’s Benedict. I want to see the Commandant. You wish to buy slaves to work for you,
is correct? No, l’d like to hire some men
to do a job. What this job? I have a mine. I can use six men. But just one thing. I pick the men… because l’m going to be working
alongside of them. My name is
Rogelio Hernandez. But in this Garden of Eden,
I am known as Cholo. Well, Mr. Cholo, let’s get going. We will see the Comandante. Vamos. The Comandante is a kind
and sympathetic person. He shows us nothing but kindness… and respect. We would die for him. Wait. In fact, we do.
Three and four a day. This warden is so corrupt,
that should the authorities know of him… he would wear more chains
than all of us together. In the name of the justice
of my country… one day, he will stand against the wall
and be shot. Well, I wish Godspeed to the justice
of your country. – Tequila, seòor?
– No, gracias. Now he will discuss the price
with you. He’s going to rob you, seòor. I am instructed to tell you by this… son of a drunken whore,
to tell you that it will cost you… 12 pesos a week for each labourer. And 20 for the guards. And in addition,
you have to pay this shit… $100 for his cooperation. l’ll pay him if I can find the men I want. Seòor, l’m trying to tell you
the usual price is 6 pesos per man… and 10 for the guards,
and this drunken weasel… will shine your boots
with his tongue for $10. Just tell him l’ll pay what he wants
if I can find what I want. It’s a deal. Who is he? His name is Job.
He was a slave in your country. He escaped and he came into Mexico,
but people tried to trap him… and return him for the reward. He became the killer
of those who tried to trap him. He was put in here, and here he will die. Mark him. But, seòor,
he’s not going to work for you. Mark him! His name is Quiberon.
He is French. A deserter from
the army of Maximilian and a bandido.Every day he tries to climb the wall
of this prison.It is impossible.Yet he tries.Quiberon? Do you think
you will make it to the top? Crap on you, Cholo! One day l’ll make it. l’ll take him. He is kept on the chain
because his is an animal and he fights. He fights anyone. Yet when he works in the mines
he’s peaceful… and he works like a beast.His name is Zweig.He is alemán. German. Excuse me. Mister… you look like a fellow countryman.
You sure do. If you’re making up a labour gang,
l’d be mighty beholden to get on it. Why, l’d work my hard old ass
clean down to the bone… if I could just get out
of this hole for a time. Seòor Benedict.
You ask anybody… old Bill Hoop is a true master
when it comes to the pick and shovel. Hot dang, I tell you… a gopher can’t hold a candle to me
when it comes to digging. What are you here for? Why, they claim that I was rustling
cattle up around Paso del Norte way… and they had to blame somebody… and I swear,
I never even been arrested before.I swear it.l’m just a true-blue, honest American. You wouldn’t let
a fellow American die… in a place like this, now, would you, sir? Excuse me, seòor. Please. In the two months
he has been here, we all know him. Me? You goddamn greaser! He is a bandido, a rapist,
a murderer, a thief! l’m going to get you for this. l’ll unravel your guts out
like a ball of yarn. Pueblo Plata. – What?
– Have you been to Pueblo Plata? Maybe. Well, ‘maybe’ doesn’t buy
your way out of here. Pueblo Plata? I think I can find it. – l’ll take this man.
– I knowed it. l’ve knowed you was the kind of
American that would stand up… for the Stars and Stripes
no matter where us Americans is. I salute you. l’ll also take the German.
No, seòor. You said he was strong and he worked
hard. Now, I need two more men. What about you, Cholo? No, I wouldn’t be any good as a peón. l’m a scholar, a philosopher… and a man filled with integrity. I can tell you what he’s filled with,
and it ain’t that! You want to get out of here?
Well… – I think I work for you, seòor.
– All right, one more man. Wait. Come on, which one is it? Against the wall.
Against the wall? He’s called El Chamaco.
The Kid. He’s a paid assassin. He killed his first man
when he was 14 years old. How many since then? Quién sabe? This hombre is getting men for his mine. You won’t have to wear
chains on your legs. Sí, a good mine, Chamaco. You come with us,
and I think you won’t regret it. l’ll take the lead, you follow me. – Sí, seòor.
– Everyone on the wagon. They can’t make me work
for nobody. I told them I wouldn’t work. You better shut up or he’s going to blow
your black head off!Chamaco, you see that greased holster
that Mr. Benedict hangs that.45 in?l’ll bet you
that Mr. Benedict can sling that.45… faster than a whore’s ass on payday. My teeth ache clean down to my ass. I wonder when Mr. Benedict’s
going to stop this wagon. Look at him… eating hot beans with them
damned greasers… and me, his fellow American… trying to get some juice
out of this dried jackrabbit. Cholo. Tell them to put their guns
down on the ground. There’s a length of rope here,
tie them up. Just Cholo.
The rest of you stay where you are. Go on, get back. Not too tight.
So they can get loose after a while. l’m going to Pueblo Plata
to kill a man named Tarp.He’s got a bunch of renegade Indians
and probably some Comancheros.I’d do it myself,
but the odds are a little steep.We can cross the Rio Grande
and be into the States by morning.I’ll buy you clothes, guns, and horses.We’ll cross back into Mexico
about 100 miles to the west. I can’t make you go with me… – but l’ll take your word that you will.
– Hey. There is no banks to be robbed?
No gold to be stolen? Is that all you want with us? To help you kill a man? Now, what the hell do you care
what he wants? You come to the right man,
Mr. Benedict, yes, sir. You can count on old William P. Hoop.
Yes, sir. Then I have your word, Mr. Hoop? I hope to shake a rag
you got my word, Mr. Benedict. Why, I wouldn’t let
no fellow American down. l’ll take your word, Mr. Hoop. Mr. Zweig? – Can I have your word?
– Sure. I give you my word. This is a joke, I think. No joke to me, Mr. Quiberon. Well, if you think my word
is worth something… yes, I give you my word. It’s worth what you make it worth. What about you, Job? You won’t take my chains off. Won’t nobody take my chains off. What if I do? l’ll have to think about that some more. Cholo? You can trust me as much as
you can trust these, seòor. Now what the hell kind of word is that? I trust him. Then I am your man. Chamaco? Why you want to kill this man? My family was massacred by this man
and his Comanches. You got my word. Cholo, get this gear together.
Rest of you, get on the wagon. – Mr. Zweig, you take the reins.
– Okay, sir. Him, drive? Why he…
Mr. Hoop. Yes, sir. Leave the guns.
Yes, sir. I don’t know. I won’t say something
I might not mean… I still got to think some more. You do that. Hot dang, l’ll tell you,
we’re in my country now, men! Yes, sir! Hi, fellow Americans,
how you doing? Wait for me, ladies!
I come back in a little while. Wait for me, ladies! Everybody in here. Man, I seen purple shirts,
but never like that. I tell you, l’m beginning to feel
like a genuine human being. Don’t make the mistake
of thinking you are one. Get off my neck,
you high-toned greaser. You call me greaser once more,
I kill you! You see this? It isn’t an umbrella, bub. Don’t start talking about killing unless
you want your head blown clean off. Camp over here. I don’t think
we’re going to camp here, Mr. Benedict. You don’t seem surprised, seòor. No. I took a long chance on all of you. You’re the galldangdest fool I ever seen. ‘Give me your word,’ he says. Well, how do you like the word
we’re giving you now, Mr. Benedict? Mr. Benedict… you have appealed
to the honour of men… who have no honour. Even you, Cholo? I have no time for this thing
you want to do, seòor. Why we talk? Let’s get the money. You get the money, Mr. Quiberon.
It’s in my saddlebag. Don’t touch your gun,
mister. If I do, l’ll take you first, Chamaco. Try it. Hot dang, I told you about
that greased holster. I don’t think maybe you could kill
all of us, Mr. Benedict. No, but I could drop three of you. But then I wouldn’t get
to Pueblo Plata. So I suggest that you just take
the money and we’ll part company. Go ahead, Mr. Quiberon. Them horses of his would bring
$100 extra or so. Now, that’s another thing, Mr. Hoop. Without my horses,
I can’t get to where l’m going… so we’d better just shoot it out
right now. Maybe this’ll make it
a little more even for you, Mr. Benedict. Well, now… what the hell are you doing?
You’re with us. I ain’t one of nobody but myself… and myself says… this man keeps his horses. It’s all right. I ain’t starting no shoot-out. Hell, you can keep your damn horses. Adiós, seòor Benedict. l’ll give you my word now. But I don’t know why.
l’ll think about it later. I don’t owe you nothing, mister. I could have worn them chains
all my life… and I wouldn’t have give a damn. It was when they sold me
to the breeding farm for slaves… that’s when I said to myself
I was a man. They used to whip me but they couldn’t
make me hump none of them gals. I sure picked the wrong time to decide
I wasn’t going to be a slave no more. You know… two of us can’t do any more good
at Pueblo Plata than one. You can make tracks any time. Ain’t just going to be the two of us,
and you know it.You’re counting on
some of them coming back.I admit I had some such idea,
but it looked like I gambled wrong. I shared a lot of misery with them men
and I know them, too. Zweig’s more sad than bad. And the Frenchman, he loves a fight. Cholo? He’s a sidewinder. Hoop, he ain’t coming back
because he ain’t worth spit. What about Chamaco? He’s liable to come back just to kill you. In that case, Job, we stay here. He’s just dead drunk. I know. I can smell him from here. l’ll come back. Step down, Chamaco,
we’ll have some grub in a while. I don’t want your food. Well, your horse may. There’s some grain in the pack
over there. Looks like you had
a good time last night. I got no money left. I give all my share of your money
to a beautiful lady. I can make out.
I still had $300 in my boots. Mr. Benedict, this is not honest. That’s an interesting way
of looking at it, Mr. Quiberon. I hear horses. Wake the others. Job. You three get behind the bank there. – Why you pick me to come with you?
– Listen. That direction. You stay here. Seòor Benedict. If you are there, hold your fire. It is I, Cholo. It’s me, too, Mr. Benedict.But hot damn, don’t shoot now.I dragged this cabrón along
because he might be useful. Bullshit. I come back
on my own free will. I can see that. Cholo, untie him. Zweig, take the horses.
Okay, sir. And then we’ll have a council of war… and Mr. Hoop’s going to tell us
what we want to know… about Pueblo Plata. Pueblo Plata?
Come on now. I don’t know
what you’re talking about. Pueblo… Wait a minute, fellows. God damn it!
Come on, come over here. Damn it, let go of me. Now look, I ain’t gonna take you
to no Pueblo Plata. If you don’t take us… you don’t go anywhere. All right. Now look what you went
and done. You drawn blood. We’re going to play mumbly-peg
with your head, Comanchero! No! All right, l’ll bring you to Pueblo Plata… but it won’t do no good. If you think you’re going to fool them,
you got worms in your head. Traders, guns and whiskey. If the Comancheros want to look
at them empty packs… before we get to Plata… it’s going to be a Merry Christmas
in Hell, l’ll tell you. A Merry Christmas in Hell. Have you been down to Mexico much? Some when I was younger. When was that? I was on a border survey
about 20 years ago. You ever got to a place
called Villa Acuòa? Might have. You remember, wouldn’t you?
lt’s right on the border. I don’t remember. Why do you ask? I used to live there once. That’s all. How many in your family? – Five.
– How many women? My wife, two daughters. You had two sons? – That’s right.
– How old your sons? One was just a youngster,
the other was 18. You know, l’m not much older than him. He looked like you? No, looked like his mother. I look like my mother… except she got black eyes, I got blue. She’s dead, my mother. Well, I hope she died peacefully. Her name was Secundina. Now look, Mr. Benedict, we’re
going to get our asses blown clean off. I tell you,
they’re watching us right now. I hope so, Mr. Hoop. But don’t you understand?
That fellow Tarp will kill us. All stone dead! We have company,
Mr. Benedict. That’s right, Mr. Quiberon. Gentlemen, raise your rifles
over your head… and get a smile on your face. You, too, Mr. Hoop. Now talk to him. He wants to know what we want here. Tell him I got a present for him. Easy now. That son of a bitch’s name is Katwa. I seen him gut children just for sport. Now he wants you to open up
them packages… and see what’s inside. Tell him we’re going to deal
with the white man. Go on, tell him! Tarp, there’s a party coming in. Wake up, Tarp. Tarp! How many? How far?
I can’t tell yet! Damn Indians! They know better than to bring
somebody up here. Rally must have known them
or they wouldn’t be bringing them in. Bullshit. You go down and you talk
to those people. You stop them. And you stall them!
All right.Indios!Bill, take the point! Look here, Mr. Benedict… you’re crazy if you think you’re going
to fool these Comancheros… for more than two minutes
with them empty crates. I don’t aim to fool them
for more than two minutes. Damn, this ain’t going to be no pea pick. When the shooting starts, Job… Cholo, Zweig,
you stay with Mr. Quiberon. Mr. Quiberon, get the Comanches.
Get all of them. Chamaco, you and l’ll give them cover… – then we’ll hit the adobes.
– Right. – Don’t shoot.
– Shut up! Can you tell which one is Tarp? That’s him. There, by the wall. – Talk to him.
– Well… Tarp, it’s me, old Bill Hoop.You remember me, don’t you?
Old Bill Hoop!Yeah, I remember you.
I can smell you up here. What do you want? Tell him we’ve come to trade for horses. We come to trade for horses.
All you got! We got guns, ammunition, and whiskey. We got Winchesters, and ammunition… and some damn good red-eye whiskey. Ask the Indians. They had some. Come on in. We’ll take a look at you.Baldy, do what I told you.That’s whiskey, all right. Well, howdy there, Baldy. I was just telling these fellows here… it’ll sure be great to see
my old friend Baldy again. How you been, Baldy? Just open them mule packs,
you windy old bastard. Help yourself. Cover me. Top, there. Cover him. Get back in there! Hey, Frenchman. Two more here,
seòor Benedict. Come on, boy, come on.
Here you are, Mr. Benedict. That’s a hound dog shame, yes, sir. That one-eyed rooster got away cleaner
than a fart in a high wind. Well, you men did what
I asked you to do. For that I thank you. Where you go? He’s alone now. The odds are a little different.
l’m going to get him. I ain’t got no place to go.
I think l’ll go with Mr. Benedict. None of
your damn business. l’m coming, my friend. That Quibby’s a card, l’ll tell you. Come up holding a woman
if he fell ass over sheep dip. Hey, greaser,
what are you going to do now? Start your own revolution? In the words of El Chamaco,
‘lt’s none of your damn business.’ None of my damn business.You got worms in your head, all of you.Following that danged fool Benedict.All of you. Hey, Quibby. Hey, you wait for your good old friend
Bill Hoop, now. Now, just a minute now. Whoa, boy. Whoa, boy, whoa. Man could get lonesome around these
parts by himself. Come on, boy. Come on.
Hey, now wait a minute, you fellas. Wait for old Bill! Five lousy months looking for
a one-eyed Indian lover. When the hell do we give up? I don’t mind, as long as we
look for Tarp in a whorehouse. But l’m getting very lonely,
Mr. Benedict. Why, hell, we ain’t stole
enough money this winter… to keep a man in whiskey. They swore if we ever came
back into Pemiscot, they’d kill us all. We are making
one big mistake. Pemiscot is a trap for us. Hell, they’ve forgotten by now,
you dunce. That was over a year ago. One year or two years.
They said no matter how long it was… they’d never forget,
and they’d be waiting. We’ll have to fight
the whole town, my friend. What are they, rawhiders? Indian fighters, and about anything else
that wants to fight. Move it! Last time they come through here,
they crippled up Caleb’s son. There’s going to be trouble, Whit,
real trouble.Salud.Here’s to you, Mister… Hello, John.I know it’s been a while…but not so long as
you wouldn’t remember me. I saw you ride in. Whit. I was over to the jail.I’m here to pick up a prisoner
to take back up north.I’m a Deputy U.S. Marshal now.lt’s a mean-looking bunch
you’ve got with you.John.Are you still chasing
that Comanchero? Still chasing him. I got a lot of friends back in Colorado… that’d like to see you riding off. Chamaco! Aren’t you gonna help
those wounded men? l’ll buy you a drink, Whit. No. I don’t drink with strangers. I don’t know you. If your family could see you now,
they wouldn’t know you, either.Christ, if your boy Morgan
could see you now, he’d run from you.That’s what l’m going to do. Hot damn, we sure cleaned up
that bunch, didn’t we, Mr. Benedict? You couldn’t hit a moose in the ass
if he was sitting on your chin. I need a woman.
What do you think of that, Mr. Benedict? When I shoot the gun,
I get hot down here. I need a woman. Where you go, Mr. Benedict? Where you go? Open up in there. Open up. What do you want?
Whiskey. That’ll be a dollar, mister. The rest of you dry misers
come in here to take up the room? Shut up, you idiot. Go back to bed. Are those pictures of your family? You know,
I never had a picture of my mother. Mr. Benedict? Mr. Benedict? You remember,
I asked you once about Villa Acuòa? If you’d ever been there,
and you said maybe you was. I was born in Villa Acuòa. My mother’s name is Secundina Ortiz. Maybe you just
don’t remember her name. Maybe l’m your son, Mr. Benedict. l’m like you. I don’t mean we look alike… except maybe we both got blue eyes. But you and me, we are alike. We ain’t afraid of nothing. l’ll stay with you, Mr. Benedict. I won’t ever leave you, Mr. Benedict. I know l’m your son. Don’t ever call yourself my son. Not ever. This was my son. But I could be, maybe… Never. Now, get the hell away from me,
you bastard. Mr. Benedict! Hot dang. Right through the heart. That Chamaco’s a shooter. I followed this man without asking why… and now I ask myself… and I have no answer. goodbye. If you rob him… l’ll kill you. Take care of Mr. Benedict… and proper, please. Papa, he ain’t dead. Go hitch up the wagon. So, you’ve come alive, have you? No. Now, don’t try to talk. l’ll tell you all you need to know for now. My name is Elizabeth Reilly.
They call me Nurse Reilly. There’s no doctor here. You took a bullet. One inch from your heart
and went through your subscapularis. What does that mean? Subscapularis is a deep muscle
under your armpit near to your heart. Will I be able to use it again? In time, but you won’t
be lifting that arm for a while. And the station keeper,
he brought these photographs. He thought they might belong to you. Do they? Are they your family? Well, if you’ll tell me where to post
a letter to them… – l’ll notify them of your illness.
– No. I find that peculiar, Mr. Benedict. Don’t let it worry you, ma’am. I shan’t let it worry me. I learnt a long time ago never to worry
about the foolishness of other people. You go back to sleep now. And what are you doing
out of bed? I was looking for… the back door. Why, might I ask? Well, that’s generally where the… All right, Mr. Benedict. If you’re going to prowl around
against my advice… then you can sop up your own blood… when that wound in your chest
starts to haemorrhage. I was looking at your handgun.
The trigger’s tight. Back. And the holster smells of hog grease. Are you a gunfighter? l’m a rancher. You are, are you? Well, l’d sure like to see your ranch. When you’re finished… you can put the pan
on the floor beside you… but don’t get out of the bed again. You know, I expect l’ll be rid of you
sooner than I thought. I hope so, ma’am. There’s a man come to see you. A U.S. Marshal named Whitcomb
from up across the Colorado. He says his business is not official. I don’t want to see him. – Is he a friend of yours?
– I said I don’t want to see him. You’re not the boss in my house,
Mr. Benedict… but l’ll go along with you this time. What do the people around here… think about your taking a man
in your house to nurse? Whatever they think… they wouldn’t dare
open their mouths about it. If they did, I might pick up and leave… and then who’d set
their broken arms and legs… and take care of
all their aches and pains? Let me help. Don’t worry about it. Time will come when you’ll be
good as new to do something useful. Like tending your ranch again. I expect that’s what you’ll be doing,
like as not. Won’t it, Mr. Benedict? I think you ought to know. That U.S. Marshal from up in Colorado
told me all about you. Once there was a very wise man… and he lived in Quilty
in the County of Clare in Ireland. He was my grandfather. And my father had this notion to kill
a man who’d done him some injustice… and my grandfather said to him: ‘Sean,’ he said, ‘you’d best learn… ‘that you live your life in your heart… ‘and you’ve got to be most careful
what you put into your heart. ‘If you fill it with vengeance and hate,’
he said… ‘there’ll be no room left for love… ‘or laughter or tears,
and your heart will rot.’ I thought you said that… you learned not to pay attention
to other people’s foolishness. You’re right. So I did. Thank you
for reminding me, Mr. Benedict. l’ll try to keep my own counsel hereafter. I may not succeed… but l’ll try. Had a good nap, did you? We’re apt to get
a freeze soon… and a frozen potato’s not worth
a damn to man nor pig. You don’t have to do it. l’ve been digging potatoes since
I was 3 years old. I don’t need any help. Not if it’s going to hurt you. It won’t hurt me. I feel fine. As you say. l’m able to ride again. You might be… if you don’t ride too long or too far. I mean, l’m ready to leave. By Christmas, maybe. You don’t want to open that wound
by too much riding. l’m healed, Elizabeth. I want to know… how much I owe you. And what would you pay me with? l’d manage to send you
some money. Would you, John?
Or would you get yourself shot again? And die somewhere where there ain’t
a Nurse Reilly to patch you up. No, I think you’re a poor risk.I guess I’ll write you off as a bad debt.I said l’d manage. Now,
if you went back to your ranch… you might be able to pay me someday. It’s a crime against nature
for a man to leave his land… because tragedy has struck him a blow. Your wife worked for that land, too. Have you thought of that? You don’t know how much
I cared for my family. No, perhaps I don’t.
l’ve never had a family. I sometimes think it’s not too late. There’s still time to fill
a few more baskets, if you’re up to it. John? John? I heard you call. l’m sorry I didn’t answer. I knew you weren’t asleep
no more than I was. My horse is saddled up. And you were
trying to decide… whether to say goodbye to me or not. Something like that. What if I told you
I don’t want you to go? What would you say to that? Lord. I want you to love me, John… but then if you leave me,
you’ll shame me… and I shall want to die.Seòor.My horse has thrown a shoe. I can fix. How long? Seòor, have you seen a man… un hombre, gringo… with one eye blanco pass through here? No. I haven’t seen a man like that, seòor. You’re under arrest, seòor. Why? Well, hot dang. Look who’s kinging it over
the whole place here. Get away, Hoop. You smell. I ain’t got nothing. I ain’t even got the price of a bath. I bet I know something you don’t know. I bet you don’t know there’s a fellow
alive that you thought was dead. Him. That danged fool Benedict. I ain’t lying. I ain’t lying. But that ain’t the funny part. The funny part is where he is. Want me to tell you? He’s in The Hole. That’s right. The same Hole he took us out of.
I swear it on the Bible I stole. I heard that,
I almost wet myself laughing. How do you know that? I know it, all right. Fellow from Paso del Norte told me. Get yourself a drink.
We got things to do. Well now, Chamaco,
my buddy, thank you. Hey, bartender! My hat. What things? – Come on.
– Now, wait a minute, Chamaco. Let’s get out of here.
Now wait. Now, look, where you taking me? Don’t you two go to sleep up here. When you pull on the rope,
we wake up all right. If you don’t find Mr. Benedict,
don’t come back, Frenchman. – Careful.
– Don’t worry. I know that wall like a woman’s fanny. Follow me, Mr. Benedict. After you, Mr. Quiberon. No, Mr. Benedict.
This time you are the prisoner… and I am the boss. Hello, Mr. Benedict.
Job. Mr. Zweig, careful,
there are guards in the canyon. Good to see you again,
Herr Benedict. Now we’ll get them chains off,
Mr. Benedict. Hey, you can thank me,
Mr. Benedict. I was the one who told Chamaco
about you being in The Hole, yes, sir. Thank you, Mr. Hoop. It was Chamaco’s idea,
Mr. Benedict. We better get out of here
fast, come on, hurry up. Just a minute. You missed my heart by one inch. Now, any son of mine
can learn to shoot better than that. I don’t know how to thank you. You don’t have to, Mr. Benedict. Weren’t so long ago,
you bought us some clothes. We’re pleased to return the favour. Job. Mr. Hoop. Chamaco. Where do you figure to head for now,
Mr. Benedict? Just out of one end of town or the other. Do you still want one-eyed man? Yes, I still want him. If that is the case,
seòor Benedict… then I think Hoop has some news
that will please you. That’s right, Mr. Benedict, yes, sir.That fellow Tarp, they arrested him…and they’re holding him down
at that Army Engineering Camp.– Are they going to hang him?
– Maybe. Going to take him down
to Fort Hancock for a trial. When did you find this out? Just before I saw Chamaco
over at Silverton. Mr. Quiberon. Goodbye, Mr. Zweig.
Herr Benedict. Maybe we’ll see each other
again sometime… somewhere. I hope. Why he shakes my hand
and say goodbye? Mr. Benedict won’t ask
anybody to help him. He’s a very polite gentleman.
He doesn’t want to put anybody out. How many times do you think
he said goodbye to us… or that we have said goodbye to him? Comanche. Looks like a lot of them. Probably a survey party
from the engineering camp. Looks like
they’ve been dead for a couple of days. Yeah. Listen,
I think what we ought to do… is stick with the river
and go into the camp from the south. Sergeant… we ran into a survey party
about five miles out. Must’ve been one of yours.
You’ve lost them all. I expected that. They went out four days ago.
Same day them Indians laid siege to us. You mean to tell me that bunch
of redskins got you holed up here? Hell, we can eat them for breakfast. Well, the main bunch
is over in them hills… with some Comancheros
that’s running this. Climb down, boys.
My men’ll take your horses. You in command? No, we got a lieutenant,
but he took an arrow in the gut. Do you have a prisoner here
named Tarp? I hope to tell you. Right over there by the settler’s
shack in a tool shed for safekeeping. He’s what the Comancheros
want. Big medicine to them. But the lieutenant, he don’t aim
to give them that ugly son of a bitch. What’s your strength? Well, we lost 10 men. We got 30 on the line. – How many Indians out there?
– I figure about a hundred. Wouldn’t be so bad if we had those
four-pounders… but we run out of powder. Be great if we could hold them off
till tomorrow. One of the boys swum the river… and headed for Fort Angelo
on the Mexican side. There’s Mexican cavalry there
that’ll come help us out. You may not need the Mexican cavalry. What do you think
you’re gonna do? l’m going to give them Tarp. That’s against
the Lieutenant’s orders. l’m not in the Army. Get the Lieutenant. Open the doors. Sir?
Open the door. If you open that door, l’ll fire. That man in the shed
is not to be set free. Well, I wasn’t exactly
going to turn him loose. I was going to kill him,
put him on a horse… and send him out to the Comanche.
That would end your siege. That would make the Injuns madder. No, it wouldn’t.
They’ve got to have a reason to attack. And the reason is in this shed. That right, Lieutenant? The man in that shed is a prisoner.
And you’re not going to kill him. Stand away from the door! Bullshit. Open that door! I order you, sir,
away from that door. I think we can open
the door now, seòor.These soldiers don’t wish
to fight over that son of a bitch.Sutler, open your window
and give these civilians a drink. That boy’s a good officer. – But, Mr. Benedict, we came for Tarp.
– I know. For me, l’d as soon you shot
that ‘chero bastard in the tool shed. But the Lieutenant is a
West Point Academy officer. So I guess he knows what he’s doing. Mr. Benedict, I think maybe you are
a little crazy. I can understand your thinking that,
Mr. Quiberon. What are we going to do now? Considering the fact
that we’re trapped… I guess we’d better stay here
with these soldiers. Now, what the hell for? Come on, let’s just get on our horses… swim across that damn old Rio,
skedaddle down into Mexico. You just skedaddle anywhere you want,
Mr. Hoop. And that goes for the rest of you,
but l’m staying here. Mr. Benedict,
you and me, we are the same. We never run from a fight. Indians! The Comancheros are sending them
redskins to test them cannons. I figured they would
sooner or later. Get up front.
Look alive around them cannon. Look like
you’re about ready to fire. Well, they creamed it, all right. They’ll try to swarm us before dark. We ran out of powder yesterday
and all we got is blasting sticks… the Army gave us
to keep the river channel open. Blasting sticks? Dynamite?
Right. How much you got? Plenty.
Well, get me some. Wilson, bring one of them sticks.
On the double. You crazy, mister?
Friction will blow that stuff. Hey. Mr. Benedict.
Watch what you’re doing. Chamaco, take this and put it out there. Now, shoot it. But don’t miss by two inches. Now bring all you got. Mister, in this goddamned Army… I can’t draw nothing without proper
orders from the commanding officer. You have them.
Yes, sir! And listen, bring me white cloth.
Surgical bandages, anything you’ve got. Right. Simpson. Now! Banks! Your name, sir? Benedict. Then, Mr. Benedict… as long as it’s clear to you
that l’m in command of this garrison… we welcome your assistance. What are you going to do
with the blasting sticks? Provide a surprise, now that we have
your permission, Lieutenant. They’re making medicine for the attack,
Lieutenant. When do you think it’ll come? Soon as they get worked up to it. I hope we can get all these things
planted before then. – Any signs of them Indians yet?
– No. But I think I hear something. All set, Alex? Put on your hat, will you? Good. You about ready? Perfect. Men in position, targets assigned. Two men to the target just to make sure. Good, Sergeant. Mr. Benedict? With your help,
I think we can make a good stand. You all right, Lieutenant? Fine, sir. That’s an awful lot of Comanches,
greaser. l’m going to get on my horse
and haul ass. Stay with me, amigo. I would be lonesome without you. We wouldn’t want anything like that
to happen, would we? Crater, Anthony, Thomas,
fill these trenches. They’re shooting a clearing
through the dynamite.Get them, Job!Taken care of, Mr. Benedict. Lieutenant! Look out,
Mr. Benedict, look out! Mr. Benedict. Mr. Benedict. That’s him. That’s Tarp.That’s him. Shoot him.
Go on, shoot him.God damn it, cut him down! Come on, Mr. Benedict… blow that good eye out
of that ugly goddamn head! Shoot him! Shoot him, Mr. Benedict. You going to let him live, Mr. Benedict? That don’t make no sense. I told you he was crazy.
I told you that all along. Shut up. You have lived to kill this man. And we have lived with you for this. Why? Why, seòor? Because he’s got squiggly worms
in his head, that’s why. l’ve had worms in my heart, Mr. Hoop. That’s been my trouble.