Western remake. A drink-hardened, one-eyed US marshal helps a 14-year-old girl to avenge her father's murder.
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This programme contains some violent scenes
'People do not give it credence that a young girl could leave home
'and go off in the wintertime to avenge her father's blood.
'But it did happen.
'I was just 14 years of age when a coward by the name of Tom Chaney
'shot my father down and robbed him of his life and his horse
'and two California gold pieces that he carried in his trouser band.
'Chaney was a hired man
'and Papa had taken him up to Fort Smith
'to help lead back a string of Mustang ponies he'd bought.
'In town, Chaney had fallen to drink and cards
'and lost all his money.
'He got it into his head he was being cheated
'and went back to the boarding house for his Henry rifle.
'When Papa tried to intervene, Chaney shot him.'
'He could have walked his horse,
'for not a soul in that city could be bothered to give chase.
'No doubt Chaney fancied himself scot-free.
'But he was wrong.
'You must pay for everything in this world, one way and another.
'There is nothing free, except the grace of God.'
Is that the man?
That is my father.
If you would like to kiss him, it would be all right.
He's gone home. Praise the Lord.
Why is it so much?
The quality of the casket and of the embalming.
The lifelike appearance requires time and art.
And the chemicals come dear. The particulars are in your bill.
If you'd like to kiss him, it would be all right.
Thank you. The spirit has flown.
Your wire said 50.
You did not specify that he was to be shipped.
Well, 60 is every cent we have. It leaves nothing for our board.
Yarnell, you can see to the body's transport to the train station
and accompany it home. I will have to sleep here tonight.
I still have to collect Father's things and see to other business.
Your mama didn't say nothing about you seeing to no business here.
It is business Mama doesn't know about. It's all right, Yarnell. I dismiss you.
-I'm not sure...
-Tell Mama not to sign anything
until I return home and see that Papa is buried in his Mason's apron.
Your terms are agreeable, if I may pass the night here.
Here? Among these people?
I'm expecting three more souls.
and His Tongue In The Rain.
Ladies and gentlemen, beware and train up your children
in the way that they should go.
You see what has become of me because of drink.
I killed a man in a trifling quarrel over a pocket-knife.
If I had have received good instruction as a child...
-Can you point out the sheriff?
-Him with the moustaches.
..I would be with my wife and children today.
I do not know what is to become of them.
But I hope and pray that you will not slight them
and compel them to go into low company.
Stop whimpering, boy!
Well, I killed the wrong man, is the which-of-why I'm here.
Had I killed the man I meant to, I don't believe I'd have been convicted.
I see men out there in that crowd is worse than me.
Before I am hanged, I would like to say...
CROWD GASP AND WHOOP
No, we ain't arrested him.
Ain't caught up to him. He lit out for the Territory.
I would think that he's throwed in with Lucky Ned Pepper,
whose gang robbed a mail hack yesterday on the Poteau River.
Why are you not looking for him?
I have no authority in the Indian Nation.
Tom Chaney is the business of the US Marshals now.
-When will they arrest him?
-Not soon, I'm afraid.
The marshals are not well staffed, and I'll tell you frankly,
Chaney is at the end of a long list of fugitives and malefactors.
Could I hire a marshal to pursue Tom Chaney?
You have a lot of experience with bounty hunters, do you?
That is a silly question. I am here to settle my father's affairs.
-I am the person for it.
Mama was never any good at sums, and she could hardly spell "cat".
I intend to see Papa's killer hanged.
Well, nothing prevents you from offering a reward and so informing the marshals.
It would have to be real money, though, to be persuasive.
Chaney is across the river in the Choctaw Nation.
I will see to the money. Who's the best marshal?
I would have to weigh that.
William Waters is the best tracker.
He's half-Comanche and it is something to see him cut for sign.
The meanest is Rooster Cogburn.
He is a pitiless man, double tough,
and fear don't enter into his thinking.
He loves to pull a cork.
The best is probably LT Quinn.
He brings his prisoners in alive. He may let one slip by now and again
but he believes that even the worst of men is entitled to a fair shake.
Where can I find this Rooster?
The jakes is occupied.
I know it is occupied, Mr Cogburn. As I said, I have business with you.
I have prior business.
You have been at it for quite some time, Mr Cogburn.
There is no clock on my business!
To hell with you! How did you stalk me here?
The sheriff told me to look in the saloon.
In the saloon, they referred me here. We must talk.
Women ain't allowed in the saloon.
I was not there as a customer. I am 14 years old.
Well, the jakes is occupied.
Will be for some time.
If you would like to sleep in a coffin, it would be all right.
How much are you paying for cotton?
Nine and a half for low-middling and ten for ordinary.
We got most of ours out early.
Sold it to the Woodson Brothers in Little Rock for 11 cents.
Then I suggest you take the balance of it to the Woodson Brothers.
We took the balance to Woodson.
We got ten and a half.
Why did you come here to tell me this?
I thought we might shop around up here next year,
but I guess we're doing all right in Little Rock.
I'm Mattie Ross.
Daughter of Frank Ross.
A tragic thing.
May I say your father impressed me with his manly qualities.
He was a close trader, but he acted the gentleman.
Well, I propose to sell those ponies back to you that my father bought.
That, I fear, is out of the question.
I will see that they're shipped to you at my earliest convenience.
We don't want the ponies now. We don't need 'em.
Well, that hardly concerns me.
Your father bought the ponies and paid for them
and there is an end of it. I have the bill of sale.
And I want 300 for Papa's saddle horse that was stolen from your stable.
You'll have to take that up with the man who stole the horse.
Tom Chaney stole the horse while it was in your care. You are responsible.
I admire your sand,
but I believe you will find I'm not liable for such claims.
You were the custodian. If you were a bank and were robbed,
you could not simply tell the depositors to go hang.
I do not entertain hypotheticals. The world as it is is vexing enough.
Secondly, your valuation of the horse is high by about 200.
How old are you?
If anything, my price is low.
Judy is a fine racing mare.
I've seen her jump an eight-rail fence with a heavy rider. I'm 14.
Well, that's all very interesting.
The ponies are yours. Take them.
Your father's horse was stolen by a murderous criminal.
I had provided reasonable protection for the creature
as per our implicit agreement.
My watchman had his teeth knocked out and can take only soup.
-I will take it to law.
-You have no case.
Lawyer J Noble Daggett of Dardanelle, Arkansas may think otherwise,
as might a jury, petitioned by a widow and three small children.
I will pay 200 to your father's estate
when I have in my hand a letter from your lawyer
absolving me of all liability from the beginning of the world to date...
I will take 200 for Judy,
plus 100 for the ponies and 25 for the grey horse that Tom Chaney left.
He was easily worth 40.
That is 325 total.
The ponies have no part in it. I will not buy them.
Then the price for Judy is 325.
I would not pay 325 for a winged Pegasus!
As for the grey horse, it does not belong to you.
The grey horse was lent to Tom Chaney by my father.
Chaney only had the use of him.
I will pay 225 and keep the grey horse.
-I don't want the ponies.
-I cannot accept that.
There will be no settlement after I leave this office. It will go to law.
All right, this is my last offer.
For that I get the release previously discussed
and I keep your father's saddle.
The grey horse is not yours to sell.
The saddle is not for sale. I will keep it.
Lawyer Daggett will prove ownership of the grey horse.
He will come after you with a writ of replevin.
-A writ of replevin.
All right, now listen very carefully, as I will not bargain further.
I will take the ponies back, and the grey horse, which is mine,
and settle...for 300.
Now, you must take that or leave it and I do not much care which it is.
Lawyer Daggett would not wish me to consider anything under 325.
But I will settle for 320 if I am given the 20 in advance.
Now, here is what I have to say about that saddle.
Frank Ross's daughter?
Oh, my poor child.
My poor child.
Are you gonna be stayin' with us or are you hurrying back home to your mama?
I'll stay here if you can have me.
I just spent last night at the undertaker's in the company of three corpses.
I felt like Ezekiel in the Valley of the Dry Bones.
Well, God bless you.
You'll be rooming with Grandma Turner.
We've had to double up,
what with all the people in town come to see the hanging.
This was in your poor father's room.
That is everything. There are no light fingers in this house.
If you need something for to tote the gun around,
I can give you an empty flour sack for a nickel.
..I could get him to talk sense about what he found up there.
And we were close enough that Deputy Marshal Potter and me
thought we'd better ride over ourselves and investigate.
What did you see when you arrived?
Old woman was out in the yard, dead,
with blowflies on her face.
The old man was inside with his breast blown open by a scattergun
and his feet burned.
He was still alive, but just was.
Said it was them two Wharton boys done it. Rode up drunk...
-Dying declaration, Your Honour.
Objection's overruled. Proceed, Mr Cogburn.
Them two Wharton boys, that'd be Odus and CC,
throwed down on him and asked him where his money was.
When he wouldn't tell 'em, they lit pine knots, held them to his feet.
He told them the money was in a fruit jar,
under a grey rock at the corner of the smokehouse.
-Well, he died on us.
-Passed away in considerable pain.
-What did you do then?
Me and Marshal Potter went out to the smokehouse.
And that rock had been moved and the jar with the money in it was gone.
You found a flat grey rock in the corner of the smokehouse
with a hollowed-out space beneath it...
If the prosecutor's going to give evidence, I suggest he be sworn.
Mr Cogburn, what did you find, if anything,
in the corner of that smokehouse?
Found a flat grey rock
with a hollowed-out space under it and nothing there.
-Then what did you...
-No jar or nothing.
-What did you do then?
-Well, rode up to the Whartons'
near where the North Fork strikes the Canadian.
-What did you find?
-Branch of the Canadian.
I had my glass.
We spotted them two boys and their old daddy, Aaron,
down the creek bank with some hogs.
They'd killed a shoat, had a fire built under a wash pot for scalding water.
-What did you do?
-Announced we was US Marshals.
I hollered out to Aaron that we needed to talk to his two boys.
He raised an axe and commenced to cussing us and blackguarding this court.
What did you do then?
Backed away from the axe and tried to talk some sense into him.
While this was going on, CC, he edges over to the wash pot there,
behind the steam, and picks up a shotgun.
Potter seen him, but it was too late.
CC Wharton pulled down on Potter with one barrel
and turned to do the same for me, and I shot him.
The old man raised the axe, and I shot him.
Odus lit out and I shot him.
CC Wharton and Aaron Wharton were dead when they hit the ground.
Odus was just winged.
Did you find the jar with the 120 in it?
-What happened then?
-I found the jar with 120 in it.
What became of Odus Wharton?
There he sits.
You may ask, Mr Goudy.
Thank you, Mr Barlow.
in your four years as US Marshal, how many men have you shot?
I never shot nobody I didn't have to.
Well, that was not the question.
Shot, or killed?
Let us restrict it to "killed" so that we may have a manageable figure.
About 12, 15.
Stopping men in flight, defending myself, et cetera.
Around 12, he says, or 15.
So many you cannot keep a precise count.
I have examined the records and can supply the accurate figure.
I believe them two Wharton boys makes it 23.
And how many members of this one family,
the Wharton family, have you killed?
Did you also shoot Dub Wharton, brother,
and Clete Wharton, half-brother?
Clete was selling ardent spirits to the Cherokee. Come at me with a kingbolt.
You were armed and he advanced upon you with nothing more than a kingbolt?
From a wagon tongue?
I've seen men badly tore up with nothing bigger than a kingbolt.
-I defended myself.
-Returning to the other encounter,
with Aaron Wharton and his two remaining sons.
You sprang from cover with your revolver in hand.
-Loaded and cocked?
If it ain't loaded and cocked, it don't shoot.
And like his son, Aaron Wharton advanced against an armed man?
He was armed, he had an axe raised!
I believe you testified you backed away from Aaron Wharton?
-Which direction were you going?
I always go backwards when I'm backing up.
Now, he advanced upon you much in the manner of Clete Wharton,
menacing you with that little old kingbolt
or rolled-up newspaper, or whatever it was.
Yes, sir. He commenced to cussing and laying about with threats.
And you were backing away?
How many steps before the shooting started?
Seven, eight steps.
So, Aaron Wharton, keeping pace, advancing away from his campfire,
seven, eight steps.
What would that be, 15, 20 feet?
Will you explain to this jury, Mr Cogburn,
why Mr Wharton was found immediately by his wash pot,
one arm in the fire, his sleeve and hand smouldering?
Did you move the body after you shot him?
Why would I do that?
You did not drag the body over to the fire, fling his arm in?
-Two witnesses who arrived on the scene
will testify to the location of the body.
You do not remember moving the body!
So it was a cold-blooded bushwhack,
while poor Mr Wharton was tending to his campfire.
If that's where the body was, I might have moved him. I do not remember.
Why would you move the body, Mr Cogburn?
Them hogs rooting around, they might have moved him.
I do not remember.
Pencil-neck son of a bitch.
-What is it?
-I'd like to talk to you a minute.
What is it?
They tell me you're a man with true grit.
What do you want, girl? Speak up, it's suppertime.
Let me do that.
Your makings are too dry.
I'm looking for the man who shot and killed my father, Frank Ross,
in front of the Monarch Boarding House.
The man's name is Tom Chaney.
They say he's over in Indian Territory and I need somebody to go after him.
What's your name, girl?
My name is Mattie Ross. We're located in Yell County.
My mother is at home looking after my sister Victoria
and my brother Little Frank.
Best go home to them. They will need help with the churning.
There is a fugitive warrant out for Chaney.
The government will pay you 2 for bringing him in
plus 10 cents a mile for each of you.
On top of that, I will pay you a 50 reward.
What are you?
What've you got there in your poke?
My God, a Colt's Dragoon.
You're no bigger than a corn nubbin.
What're you doing with a pistol like that?
-I intend to kill Tom Chaney with it.
-Kill Tom Chaney?
If the law fails to do so.
That piece will do the job for you,
if you find a high stump to rest it on and a wall to put behind you.
Nobody here knew my father
and I'm afraid nothing is going to be done about Chaney except I do it.
My brother is a child and my mother is indecisive and hobbled by grief.
-I don't believe you have 50.
-I have a contract
with Colonel Stonehill which he will make payment on
tomorrow or the next day, once a lawyer countersigns.
I don't believe in fairy tales or sermons or stories about money, baby sister.
But thanks for the cigarette.
Isn't your mama expecting you home, dear?
My business is not yet finished.
Mrs Floyd, have any rooms opened up?
Grandma Turner is... The bed is quite narrow.
The second-floor back did open up,
but that gentleman on the porch has just taken it.
But don't worry yourself, dear.
You're not disturbing Grandma Turner.
My name is LaBoeuf.
I've just come from Yell County.
We have no rodeo clowns in Yell County.
A saucy line will not get you far with me.
I saw your mother yesterday morning.
She said for you to come right on home.
What was your business there?
This is a man I think you know.
You called him Tom Chaney, I believe.
Though, in the months I've been tracking him, he has used the names
Theron Chelmsford, John Todd Andersen, and others.
He dallied in Monroe, Louisiana, and Pine Bluff, Arkansas,
before turning up at your father's place.
Why did you not catch him in Pine Bluff, Arkansas, or Monroe, Louisiana?
He is a crafty one.
I thought him slow-witted, myself.
That was his act.
It was a good one. Are you some kind of law?
I'm a Texas Ranger.
That may make you a big noise in that state.
In Arkansas, you should mind that your Texas trappings and title
do not make you an object of fun.
Why have you been ineffectually pursuing Chaney?
He shot and killed a state senator named Bibbs in Waco, Texas.
The Bibbs family put out a reward.
How came Chaney to shoot a state senator?
My understanding is there was an argument about a dog.
Do you know anything about the whereabouts of Chaney?
He is in the Territory, and I hold out little hope for you earning your bounty.
-Why is that?
-My man will beat you to it.
I have hired a deputy marshal, the toughest one they have.
And he's familiar with the Lucky Ned Pepper gang
they say Chaney's tied up with.
Well, I will throw in with you and your marshal.
-Marshal Cogburn and I are fine.
-It'll be to our mutual advantage.
Your marshal, I presume, knows the Territory. I know Chaney.
It is at least a two-man job taking him alive.
When Chaney is taken, he's coming back to Fort Smith to hang.
I'm not having him go to Texas to hang for shooting some senator.
It is not important where he hangs, is it?
It is to me. Is it to you?
It means a great deal of money to me. It's been many months' work.
I'm sorry that you are paid piecework and not on wages,
and that you have been eluded the winter long by a halfwit.
You give out very little sugar with your pronouncements.
While I sat there watching you,
I gave some thought to stealing a kiss,
though you are very young and sick and unattractive to boot.
But now I have a mind to give you five or six good licks with my belt.
One would be as unpleasant as the other.
If you wet your comb, it might tame that cowlick.
"Mattie, I wish you would leave these matters entirely to me,
"or at the very least, do me the courtesy of consulting me
"before entering such agreements.
"I am not scolding you
"but I am saying your headstrong ways will lead you into a tight corner one day.
"I trust the enclosed document will let you conclude your business
"and return to Yell County.
"Yours, J Noble Daggett."
I was as bad yesterday as you look today.
I was forced to share a bed with Grandma Turner.
I am not acquainted with Grandma Turner.
If she is a resident of this city,
it does not surprise me that she carries disease.
This malarial place has ruined my health,
as it has my finances.
I owe you money.
You have not traded poorly.
I am paying you for a horse I do not possess
and have bought back a string of useless ponies
which I cannot sell again.
-You're forgetting the grey horse.
You are looking at the thing in the wrong light.
I am looking at it in the light of God's eternal truth.
Your illness is putting you down in the dumps.
You will soon find a good buyer for the ponies.
I have a tentative offer of 10 per head
from the Pfitzer Soap Works of Little Rock.
It would be a shame to destroy such spirited horseflesh.
So it would. I am confident the deal will fall through.
Look here. I need a pony. And I will pay 10 for one of them.
No, that's the lot price. No, no... Wait a minute.
Are we trading again?
This one's beautiful.
He don't know he got a rider. You too light.
He think he got a horsefly on him.
He's very spirited. I'll call him Little Blackie.
That's a good name.
What does he like for a treat?
Well, ma'am, he's a horse.
So he likes apples.
-Thank Mr Stonehill for me.
I ain't supposed to utter your name!
That is fine. I will wake him.
It is I, Mattie Ross, your employer.
-How long till you are ready to go?
Into the Indian Territory, in pursuit of Tom Chaney.
Oh. You're the bereaved girl with stories of El Dorado.
How much money you got there?
I said 50 to retrieve Chaney. You did not believe me?
I did not know.
You are a hard one to figure.
How long for you to make ready to depart?
Well, hold on, sis.
I remember your offer, but I do not remember agreeing to it.
If I'm to go up against Ned Pepper,
I will need 100. That much I can tell you. 100.
To retrieve your man, 100.
I will take that 50 in advance.
-There will be...expenses.
-You are trying to take advantage of me.
I'm giving you the children's rate.
I'm not a sharper.
I'm an old man sleeping in a rope bed in a room behind a Chinese grocery.
-I have nothing.
-You want to be kept in whiskey.
I don't need to buy that. I confiscate it.
I'm an officer of the court.
100, that's the rate.
I shall not niggle. Can we depart this afternoon?
You are not going. That is no part of it.
You have misjudged me if you think I am silly enough to give you 50
and watch you simply ride off.
I'm a bonded US Marshal.
That weighs but little with me. I will see the thing done.
I can't go after Ned Pepper and a band of hard men
-and look after a baby at the same time.
-I am not a baby.
I won't be stopping at boarding houses
where there's warm beds and hot grub on the table.
I'll be travelling fast and eating light.
What little sleeping is done will take place on the ground.
I have slept out at night before.
Papa took me and Little Frank coon-hunting last summer on the Petit Jean.
We were in the woods all night.
We sat around a big fire and Yarnell told ghost stories.
-We had a good time.
This ain't no coon hunt.
-It is the same idea as a coon hunt.
-It don't come within 40 miles of being a coon hunt.
You're just tryin' to make your work sound harder than it is. Here is the money.
I aim to get Tom Chaney
and if you are not game I will find somebody who is game.
All I've heard out of you so far is talk.
I know you can drink whiskey and snore
and spit and wallow in filth and bemoan your station.
The rest has been braggadocio.
They told me you had grit, and that is why I came to you.
I'm not paying for talk.
I can get all the talk I need and more at the Monarch Boarding House.
Leave your money.
Meet me here at seven o'clock tomorrow morning.
We'll begin our coon hunt.
"I'm about to embark on a great adventure.
"I have learned that Tom Chaney has fled into the wild
"and I shall assist the authorities in pursuit.
"You know that Papa would want me to be firm in the right,
"as he always was.
"So do not fear on my account.
"Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
"I shall fear no evil.
"The author of all things watches over me, and I have a fine horse.
"Kiss Little Frankie for me and pinch Violet's cheek.
"Papa's death will soon be avenged.
"I am off for the Choctaw Nation."
Where is Marshal Cogburn?
Went away. Left this.
"Here inside is a train ticket for your return home. Use it.
"By the time you read this, I will be across the river in the Indian Nation.
"Pursuit would be futile. I will return with your man Chaney.
"Leave me to my work. Reuben Cogburn."
Is that Marshal Cogburn?
-That is the man.
-Who's he with?
I do not know.
Take me across.
So, you're the runaway.
Marshal told me you'd show up. I'm to present you to the sheriff.
That is a story. Let go of my horse. I have business across the river.
If you don't turn around and take me across,
you may find yourself in court where you don't want to be.
I have a good lawyer.
Go, Little Blackie! Come on!
That is quite a horse.
I will give you 10 for him.
From the money you stole from me?
That was not stolen. I'm out for your man.
I was to accompany you.
If I do not, there is no agreement and my money was stolen.
Marshal, put this child back on the ferry.
It's a long road, and time is a-wasting.
If I go back, it is to the US Marshals Office to report the theft of my money.
And futile, Marshal Cogburn, "Pursuit would be futile,"
is not spelt F-U-D-E-L.
It is time for your spanking.
Now you will do as the grown-ups say
or I will get myself a birch switch and stripe your leg!
Are you going to let him do this, Marshal?
No, I don't believe I will.
-Put your switch away, LaBoeuf.
-I aim to finish what I started.
That will be the biggest mistake you ever made, you Texas brush-popper.
Hoorawed by a little girl.
I am not accustomed to so large a fire.
In Texas, we will make do with a fire of little more than twigs...
..or buffalo chips, to heat the night's ration of beans.
And it is Ranger policy
never to make your camp in the same place as your cookfire.
Very imprudent to make your presence known in unsettled country.
How do you know Bagby will have intelligence?
He has a store.
That makes him an authority on movements in the Territory?
We have entered a wild place.
And anyone coming in, wanting any kind of supply,
cannot pick and choose his portal.
That is a piece of foolishness.
All the snakes are asleep this time of year.
-They have been known to wake up.
-Let me have a rope, too.
A snake would not bother you. You are too little and bony.
You should fetch water for the morning and put it by the fire.
-The creek's gonna ice over tonight.
-I'm not going down there again.
If you want any more water, you could fetch it yourself.
You're lucky to be travelling in a place where a spring is so handy.
In my country, you can ride for days and see no groundwater.
I have lapped filthy water from a hoofprint
and was glad to have it.
If I ever meet one of you Texas waddies
who says he has never drank water out of a horse track,
I think I'll shake his hand and give him a Daniel Webster cigar.
You do not believe it?
I believed it the first 25 times I heard it.
Maybe... Maybe it is true.
Maybe lapping water off the ground is Ranger policy.
You are getting ready to show your ignorance now, Cogburn.
I don't mind a little personal chaffing
but I won't hear anything against the Ranger troop from a man like you.
How long you boys been mounted on sheep down there?
My white Appaloosa will still be galloping
when that big American stud of yours is winded and collapsed.
Now make another joke about it.
You're only trying to put on a show for this girl Mattie
with what you must think is a keen tongue.
This is like women talking.
Yes, that is the way.
Make me out foolish in this girl's eyes.
I think she has you pretty well figured.
Would you two like to hear the story of The Midnight Caller?
One of you is gonna have to be The Caller.
And I will tell you what to say.
And I will do all the other parts myself.
-Good morning, Marshal.
Where is Mr LaBoeuf?
Down by the creek, performing his necessaries.
Marshal Cogburn, I welcome the chance for a private parley.
I gather that you and Mr LaBoeuf have come to some sort of agreement.
And as your employer, I believe I have the right to know the particulars.
The particulars is that we bring Chaney
down to the magistrate in San Saba, Texas,
where they have a considerable reward on offer, which we split.
I did not want him brought to Texas,
to have a Texas punishment administered for a Texas crime.
That was not our agreement.
What you want is to have him caught and punished.
I want him to know that he is being punished for killing my father.
You can let him know that. You can tell him to his face.
You can spit on him and make him eat sand out of the road.
I will hold him down.
If you want, I'll flay the flesh off the soles of his feet
and find you an Indian pepper you can rub into the wound.
Isn't that a 100 value?
No, it is not.
When I have bought and paid for something, I will have my way.
Why do you think I'm paying you if not to have my way?
It's time for you to learn you cannot have your way in every little particular.
If you find I fail to satisfy your terms,
I will return your money at the end of this expedition.
Little Blackie and I are riding back to the US Marshals Office.
-This is fraud.
-God damn it!
-What's going on?
-This is a business conversation.
Is that what you call it?
It sounds to me like you're still being hoorawed by a little girl.
-Did you say hoorawed?
-That was the word.
There is no hoorawing in it.
My agreement with the marshal antedates yours.
-It has the force of law.
-The force of law?
This man is a notorious thumper.
He rode by the light of the moon with Quantrill and Bloody Bill Anderson.
Them men was patriots, Texas trash!
They murdered women and children in Lawrence, Kansas.
That's a goddamn lie!
What army was you in, mister?
I was at Shreveport, first with Kirby Smith...
Yeah? What side was you on?
I was in the army of Northern Virginia, Cogburn,
and I don't have to hang my head when I say it.
If you had served with Captain Quantrill...
Captain Quantrill indeed!
-Best let this go, LaBoeuf.
-Captain of what?
Good, then. There's not sufficient dollars in the state of Texas
to make it worth my while to listen to your opinions.
-Our agreement is nullified.
-That suits me.
-It's each man for himself.
You've graduated from marauder to wet nurse.
We don't need him, do we, Marshal?
We'll miss his Sharps carbine.
It's apt to get lively out here.
Stay here, sister.
I will see Bagby.
Has Chaney been here?
No. Coke Hayes was, two days ago.
Coke runs with Lucky Ned. He bought supplies with this.
This is Papa's gold piece.
Tom Chaney, here we come.
It's not the world's only California gold piece.
-They are rare here.
-They are rare.
But if it is Chaney's, it could just as easily
mean that Lucky Ned and his gang fell upon him,
as that he fell in with them.
Chaney could be a corpse.
That would be a bitter disappointment, Marshal. What do we do?
Ned is unfinished business for the marshals, anyhow,
and when we have him we'll also have Chaney,
or learn the whereabouts of his body.
Bagby didn't know which way they went,
but now that we know they come through here,
they couldn't be going but one of two ways -
heading north towards the Winding Stair Mountains,
or pushing further west.
I suspect north. More to rob.
I bought an eating place called The Green Frog,
started calling myself Burroughs.
But my drinking picked up
and my wife did not care for the company of my river friends.
She decided to go back to her first husband.
He was a clerk in a hardware store.
She said, "Goodbye, Reuben.
"A love of decency does not abide in you."
There's your divorced woman talking about decency.
I told her, "Goodbye, Nola.
"I hope that little nail-selling bastard keeps you happy this time."
She took my boy with her, too.
He never cared for me anyway.
I guess I did speak awful rough to him.
I did not mean anything by it.
You would not want to see a clumsier child than Horace.
I'll bet he broke 40 cups.
Is it Chaney?
I would not recognise the soles of his feet.
Well, you'll have to clamber up and look.
I'm too old and too fat.
The Green Frog had one billiard table,
served ladies and men both - mostly men.
I tried running it myself for a while, but couldn't keep good help.
And I never did learn how to buy meat.
Is that him?
I believe not.
Well, cut him down.
-I might know him.
That was when I went out to the Staked Plains of Texas,
shooting buffalo with Vernon Shaftoe and a Flathead Indian named Olly.
The Mormons had run Shaftoe out of Great Salt Lake City.
Don't ask me what for.
Call it a misunderstanding and leave it go at that.
Well, the big shaggies is about all gone now.
I'd give 3 right now for a pickled buffalo tongue.
Why did they hang him so high?
I do not know.
Possibly in the belief it'd make him more dead.
I do not know this man.
Why is he taking the hanged man? Did he know him?
He did not.
But it is a dead body.
Possibly worth something in trade.
'Well, my second wife, Edna,
'she got the notion she wanted me to be a lawyer.'
Bought this heavy book called Daniels on Negotiable Instruments
and set me to reading it.
Never could get a grip on it.
I was happy enough to set it aside and leave Texas.
There ain't six trees between there and Canada,
and nothing else grows but has stickers on it.
I knew it.
-We're being followed.
I asked that Indian to signal with a shot if someone was on our trail.
Should we be concerned, Marshal?
No. It's Mr LaBoeuf, using us as bird dogs
in hopes of cutting in once we've flushed the prey.
Well, perhaps we could double back over our tracks,
and confuse the trail in a clever way.
No, we will wait right here.
Offer our friend a warm hello, and ask him where he is going.
You are not LaBoeuf.
My name is Forster.
I practice dentistry in the Nation.
Also, veterinary arts
and medicine on those humans that will sit still for it.
You have your work cut out for you there.
Traded for him with an Indian, who said he came by him honestly.
I gave up two dental mirrors and a bottle of expectorant.
Do either of you need medical attention?
It's fixing to get cold.
Do you know of anywhere to take shelter?
I have my bearskin.
You might want to head over to the Original Greaser Bob's.
He notched a dugout into a hollow along the Carrillon River.
If you ride the river, you won't fail to see it.
Greaser Bob, the Original Greaser Bob,
is hunting north of the Picketwire
and would not begrudge its use.
-I have taken his teeth.
I will entertain an offer for the rest of him.
Take my jacket.
Creep up onto the roof.
If they're unfriendly, I'll give you a sign to damp the chimney.
Who is out there?
We're looking for shelter.
No room for you here. Ride on.
-Who all's in there?
COUGHING FROM WITHIN
RAISED VOICE FROM WITHIN
COUGHING FROM WITHIN
COUGHING FROM WITHIN
I'm a Federal officer! Who's in there?
-A Methodist and a son of a bitch!
-This is Rooster Cogburn.
Columbus Potter and five other marshals is out here with me.
We've got a bucket of coal oil.
In one minute, we will burn you out from both ends.
-There's only two of you.
-Go ahead and bet your life on it.
How many of you is in there?
Just the two of us, but my partner's hit and he can't walk.
Is that Emmett Quincy?
You said it was a man on the roof. I thought it was Potter.
You was always dumb, Quincy, and remain true to form.
This here's an awful lot of sofky. You boys looking for company?
That is our supper and breakfast both. I like a big breakfast.
Sofky always cooks up bigger than you think.
And a good store of whiskey here, as well.
What are you boys up to, outside of cooking banquets?
We was just having our supper.
We didn't know who was outside, weather like this.
It might have been some crazy man. Anyone could say he is a marshal.
-My leg hurts.
-I'll bet it does.
When was the last time you seen your old pard Ned Pepper?
-I do not know him. Who is he?
-I'm surprised you don't remember him.
He's a skinny fellow, nervous and quick. His lip's all messed up.
That don't bring anybody to mind.
There is a new boy that might be running with Ned.
He's got a powder mark on his face, a black place.
He calls himself Chaney. Or Chelmsford, sometimes.
-Carries a Henry rifle.
-That don't bring anybody to mind.
Black mark, I would remember that.
You don't remember nothing I want to know, do you, Quincy?
-What do you know, Moon?
-We don't know those boys you're looking for.
I don't know those boys. I always try to help out the law.
By the time we get to Fort Smith,
that leg will be swelled up tight as Dick's hatband.
It will be mortified and they will cut it off.
If you live, that'll get you two or three years
-in the Federal house up in Detroit, there.
-You're trying to get at me.
They'll teach you how to read and write up there,
but the rest won't be so good. Them boys, they can be hard on a gimp.
-You are trying to get at me.
-Now... give me good information on Ned,
I'll take you down to Bagby's store tomorrow
and get that ball taken out of your leg.
Then, I'll give you three days to clear the Territory.
We don't know those boys you're looking for.
-It ain't his leg.
-Don't go flapping your mouth, Moon.
-Let me do the talking.
-I was saying...
-We are weary trappers.
Who worked you over with the ugly stick?
The man Chaney with the marked face killed my father.
He was a whiskey drinker like you and it led to killing, in the end.
If you answer the marshal's questions, he will help you.
I have a good lawyer at home and he will help you, too.
I am puzzled by this. Why is she here?
Don't jaw with these people, Moon. Don't you go jawing with that runt.
I don't like you. I hope you go to jail. My lawyer will not help you.
My leg is giving me fits.
A young fellow like you don't want to lose his leg. No.
-He's trying to get at you.
-With the truth.
-We seen Ned and Hayes two days ago.
Don't you act the fool! If you blow, I will kill you!
I'm played out. I need a doctor! We met Ned and Hayes two days ago.
Oh, Lord, I am dying.
Do something. Help me.
I can do nothing for you, son.
Your pard has killed you and I have done for him.
Don't leave me lying here.
Don't let the wolves rip me up.
I'll see you're buried right.
Tell me about Ned. Where did you see him?
Two days ago. Bagby's store.
They are coming here tonight to get remounts and sofky.
They just robbed the Katy Flyer at Wagoner's Switch.
Send the news to my brother, George Garrett.
He is a Methodist circuit rider in South Texas.
Shall I tell him you was outlawed up?
It don't matter. He knows I'm on the scout.
I will meet him later, walking the streets of glory.
Well, don't be looking for Quincy.
(What do we do when they get here?)
They ride up. What we want is to get them all in the dugout.
I'll kill the last one that goes in, then we'll have them in a barrel.
You will shoot him in the back?
It'll give them to know our intentions are serious.
Then I'll call down, see if they'll be taken alive.
If they won't, I'll shoot them as they come out.
I'm hopeful that three of their party being dead
will take the starch out of them.
You display great poise.
It's just a turkey shoot.
There was one time, in New Mexico, we was being pursued by seven men.
I turned Bo around and taking them reins in my teeth
rode right at them boys,
firing them two Navy sixes I carry on my saddle.
Well, I guess they was all married men who loved their families,
-as they scattered and run for home.
-Well, that is hard to believe.
-One man riding at seven.
You go for a man hard enough and fast enough,
he don't have time to think about how many is with him.
He thinks about himself,
how he might get clear of that wrath that's about to set down on him.
Why were they pursuing you?
I robbed a high-interest bank. You can't rob a thief, can you?
Never robbed a citizen. Never took a man's watch.
-It is all stealing.
-That's the position they took in New Mexico.
I did not figure them to send a scout.
-It is LaBoeuf.
We have to warn him, Marshal.
DISTANT HORSES' HOOVES RUMBLE
What do we do, Marshal?
We sit. What does he do?
(Him in the woolly chaps is Lucky Ned.)
Well, that's that.
Well, that didn't pan out.
You managed to put a kink in my rope, pardner.
-I'm severely injured.
-Yes, you got drug some.
Also shot by a rifle.
That's quite possible. The scheme did not develop as I had planned.
You've been shot in the shoulder, but the bullet passed through.
-What happened to your mouth?
-I believe I bit myself.
A couple of teeth loose and... Yeah, the tongue is bit almost through.
Do you want to see if it will knit or should I just yank it free?
I know a teamster who bit his tongue off, being thrown from a horse.
After a time, he learned to make himself more or less understood.
-I'll just yank it free.
-What? What's that, now?
-What's that now?
-Knit. It will knit.
Very well. It's impossible to bind a tongue wound.
-Too bad. We just run across a doctor of sorts.
But I do not know where he was headed.
I saw him, too. It's how I came to be here.
-Neither of these men are Chaney.
-I know, and I know them both.
That ugly one is Coke Hayes. Him uglier still is Clement Parmalee.
Parmalee and his brothers have a silver claim
in the Winding Stair Mountains
and I bet that's where Lucky Ned's gang is waiting.
We'll sleep here, follow in the morning.
We promised to bury the poor soul inside.
Ground is too hard. If them men wanted a decent burial,
they should have got themselves killed in summer.
Sleep well, Little Blackie.
I have a notion that tomorrow we will reach our object.
We are hot on the trail. It seems that we will overtake Tom Chaney
in the Winding Stair Mountains. I would not want to be in his shoes.
As I understand it, Chaney, or Chelmsford,
as he called himself in Texas, shot the Senator's dog.
When the Senator remonstrated, Chelmsford shot him, as well.
Now, you could argue that the shooting of the dog
was merely an instance of malum prohibitum,
but the shooting of a senator is indubitably an instance
-of malum in se.
-Malum in se.
The distinction is between an act that is wrong in itself,
and an act that is wrong only according to our laws and mores.
It is Latin.
I'm struck that LaBoeuf has been shot, trampled,
and nearly severed his tongue and not only does he not cease to talk,
but he spills the banks of English.
I was within 300 yards of Chelmsford once.
The closest I have been.
With the Sharps carbine, that is within range.
But I was mounted, and had the choice of firing offhand
or dismounting to shoot from rest,
which would allow Chelmsford to augment the distance.
I fired mounted...and fired wide.
You could not hit a man at 300 yards
if your gun was resting on Gibraltar.
The Sharps carbine is an instrument of uncanny power and precision.
I have no doubt that the gun is sound.
# My clothes is all ragged My language is rough
# My bread is corn dodgers Both solid and tough
# And yet I am happy and live at my ease
# On sorghum molasses and bacon and cheese. #
Greer County Bachelor, that was.
I do not believe he slept.
HE CONTINUES TO SING HAPHAZARDLY
Fort Smith is a healthy distance, LaBoeuf,
but I would encourage the creature you ride to head thither.
Out here, a one-armed man looks like easy prey.
And a one-eyed man who can't shoot? Why don't you turn back, Cogburn?
I'll do fine. I know where the Parmalee claim is.
I am uninjured and well-provisioned and we agreed to separate.
In conscience, you cannot cite our agreement.
-You're the one who shot me.
-Mr LaBoeuf has a point, Marshal.
It is an unfair leg-up in any competition
to shoot your opposite number.
Goddamn it! I do not accept it as a given that I did shoot LaBoeuf.
There were plenty of guns going off.
I heard the rifle and I felt the ball.
-You missed your shot, Cogburn, admit it.
-Missed my shot?!
You are more handicapped without the eye than I without the arm.
I can hit a gnat's eye at 90 yards.
That Chinaman is running them cheap shells on me again.
I thought you were going to say the sun was in your eyes.
That is to say, your eye.
Two at one time!
I will chuck one high. Hold fire.
If you hit what you aim at, explain my shoulder!
Gentlemen, shooting cornbread
-is getting us no closer to the Ned Pepper gang.
This will prove it. Please hold fire.
Find our way back!
Very few fiddle tunes I have not heard.
Once heard, they're locked into my mind for ever.
Very good, Cogburn. Now what?
Oh, goddamn it.
Cogburn does not want me eating out of his store.
That is silly. You have not eaten and it is my store, not his.
Let him starve!
He does not track! He does not shoot, except at foodstuffs!
-That was your initiative.
-He does not contribute.
He's a man who walks in front of bullets!
Mr LaBoeuf drew single-handed upon the Lucky Ned Pepper gang
-while we fired safely from cover.
It is unfair to indict a man when his jaw is swollen and tongue mangled
-and who is unable to rise to his own defence!
-I can speak for myself.
I am hardly obliged to answer the ravings of a drunkard.
It is beneath me. I shall make my own camp elsewhere.
It is you who have nothing to offer, Cogburn.
A sad picture indeed.
This is no longer a manhunt. It is a debauch.
The Texas Ranger presses on, alone.
Take the girl. I bow out.
A fine thing to decide once you brought her
-into the middle of the Choctaw Nation.
-I bow out! I wash my hands!
Gentlemen, we cannot fall out in this fashion.
Not so close to our goal, with Tom Chaney nearly in hand.
In hand? If he is not in a shallow grave
somewhere between here and Fort Smith, he is gone!
Long gone! Thanks to Mr LaBoeuf, we missed our shot.
We've barked and the birds have flown! Gone, gone, gone!
Lucky Ned and his cohort gone. Your 50 gone!
Gone the whiskey, seized in evidence!
The trail is cold, if there ever was one.
I'm a foolish old man who has been drawn into a wild-goose chase
by a harpy in trousers and a nincompoop!
Well, Mr LaBoeuf, he can wander
the Choctaw Nation for as long as he likes.
Perhaps the local Indians will take him in
and honour his gibberings by making him chief!
You, sister, may go where you like. Our engagement is terminated.
I bow out.
-I am going with you.
-That is not possible.
Have I held you back?
I have a Colt's Dragoon revolver which I know how to use,
and I will be no more of a burden to you than I was to the marshal.
That is not my worry. You've earned your spurs. That is clear enough.
You've been a regular old hand on the trail.
But Cogburn is right,
even if I would not give him the satisfaction of conceding it.
The trail is cold and I am considerably diminished.
How can you give up now after the many months you've dedicated to finding Chaney?
You have shown great determination.
I misjudged you.
I picked the wrong man.
I would go on in your company if there were a clear way to go.
But we'd be striking out blindly. Chelmsford's gone.
We chased him right off the map. There's nothing for it.
I'm bound for Texas. Time for you to go home, too.
The marshal, when he sobers, is your way back.
I will not go back. Not without Chaney, dead or alive.
I misjudged you, as well.
-I extend my hand.
-Mr LaBoeuf, please.
I know you.
Your name is Mattie. You're little Mattie, the book-keeper.
-Isn't that something?
-Yes, and I know you, Tom Chaney.
-What are you doing out here?
-Come to fetch some water.
I mean, what are you doing in these mountains here?
I have not been formally deputised, but I'm acting as an agent
for Marshal Reuben Cogburn and Judge Parker's court.
I have come to take you back to Fort Smith.
Well, I will not go. How do you like that?
There is a posse of officers up there who will force you to go.
That is interesting news. How many is up there?
Right around 50. And they're all well-armed and they mean business.
What I want you to do now is come on across the creek
and walk in front of me up that hill.
I think I will oblige the officers to come after me.
Well, if you refuse to go, I will have to shoot you.
Well, then, you had better cock your piece.
-All the way back. Till it locks.
-I know how to do it.
-You will not go with me?
-No, it's just the other way around. You're going with me.
-I did not think you would do it.
-Well, what do you think now?
One of my short ribs is broken.
You killed my father when he was trying to help you. I have one of the gold pieces
-you stole from him. Now give me the other.
-Nothing's gone right for me.
-I'm down here!
-Now I'm shot by a child?
-Chaney is taken into custody.
Take them horses you got and move!
Tom, you get on up that hill. Don't you stop.
-Who all's down there?
-Marshal Cogburn and 50 more officers.
You tell me another lie and I'll stove your head in.
Just the marshal.
Cogburn! You hear me?
You answer me, Rooster!
I will kill this girl. You know I will do it.
The girl is nothing to me! She's a runaway from Arkansas!
That is all very well. Do you advise that I kill her?
Do what you think is best. She's nothing to me but a lost child.
Think it over first.
I have already thought it over. You get mounted double fast!
If I see you riding over that bald ridge to the north-west, I will spare the girl.
You have five minutes!
There will be a party of marshals here soon, Ned!
Let me have the girl and Chaney, and I will mislead them for six hours.
Too thin, Rooster. Too thin!
Your five minutes is running! No more talk.
Get on up that hill!
-Farrell, see to Tom's wound.
-Can I have some of that bacon?
You help yourself. Have some of the coffee.
I do not drink coffee. I'm 14.
Well, we do not have buttermilk and we do not have bread.
-We are poorly supplied.
-Where is she?!
-What are you doing here?
-I ought to wring your scrawny neck.
You let that go.
What happened, huh?
I will tell you and you will see that I am in the right.
Tom Chaney shot my father to death in Fort Smith,
and robbed him of two gold pieces and stole his mare.
I was informed Cogburn had grit and hired him to find the murderer.
A few minutes ago, I came upon Chaney watering the horses.
He would not be taken in charge and I shot him.
If I had killed him, I would not be now in this fix. My revolver misfired.
It will do it. It will embarrass you every time.
Most girls like to play pretties, but you like guns, do you?
I do not care a thing in the world about guns. If I did, I would have one that worked.
I was shot from ambush, Ned. My horses was blowing and making noise. That officer got me.
How can you sit there and tell such a big story?
That pit is 100 feet deep and I will throw you in it.
I'll leave you to scream and rot! How do you like that?
No, you won't. This man will not let you have your way.
-He is your boss and you have to do as he tells you.
-Well, nothing's going my way.
Was that Rooster waylaid us night before last?
-It was Marshal Cogburn and myself.
-You and Cogburn. Quite the posse.
-Let us move, Ned.
-In good time, Doctor.
-What happened to Quincy and The Kid?
-They are both dead.
I was in the very middle of it. It was a terrible thing to see.
Please, let us move, Ned. The marshal's gone.
-Do you need a good lawyer?
-I need a good judge.
What happened to Coke Hayes, the old fellow shot off his horse?
Dead as well. His depredations have come to an end.
Your friend Rooster does not collect many prisoners.
He is not my friend.
He's abandoned me to a congress of louts.
-You do not varnish your opinion.
-Are we off?
Let us cut up the winnings from the Katy Flyer.
There'll be time for that at The Old Place.
-I will mount the bay.
-I have other plans for you.
-Must I double-mount with the doctor?
No, too chancy with two men up, if it comes to a race.
Tom, you wait here with the girl.
When we reach Ma's house, I'll send Carroll back with a fresh mount.
You will be out by dark and we will meet you at The Old Place.
I do not like that. Let me ride with you, Ned, just out of here anyway.
-We're short a horse.
-Marshals will come swarming.
Hours, if they come here at all. They'll think that we've all gone.
I am not staying here by myself with Tom Chaney.
-That's the way I will have it.
-He will kill me.
You heard him say it. He's killed my father and now you will let him kill me.
He will do no such thing. Tom, you know the crossing at Cypress Forks, near the log meeting house?
When you are mounted, you take the girl and leave her there. Do you understand, Tom?
Any harm comes to that child, you do not get paid.
(Harold, let me ride up with you.)
HE LAUGHS SARCASTICALLY
Farrell! I will pay you 50 out of my winnings. I am not heavy.
Do the calf again, Harold!
HE IMITATES CALF
Everything is against me.
You have no reason to whine.
If you act as the bandit chief instructed, and no harm comes to me,
you will get your winnings at The Old Place.
Lucky Ned has left me, knowing I am sure to be caught when I leave on foot.
I must think over my position and how I may improve it.
Where is the second California gold piece?
-What have you done with Papa's mare?
Are you thinking about The Old Place?
Look here, if you let me go, I will swear to it in an affidavit
and once you are brought to justice, it may go easier on you.
I tell you, I can do better than that.
I need no affidavit.
All I need is your silence.
Your father was a busybody like you.
In honesty, I do not regret shooting him. He thought Tom Chaney was small.
And you, you would give me an affidavit. You're all against me. Every...
So that is Chelmsford.
Strange to be so close to him at last.
Mr LaBoeuf. How is it that you are here?
I heard a shot and went down to the river.
Cogburn outlined a plan. Mind your footing, there's a pit there.
His part, I fear, is rash.
He returns for Lucky Ned.
Well, Rooster, will you give us the road?
One against four? It is ill-advised.
-He would not be dissuaded.
-How many men is with the girl?
-Just Chaney. Our agreement is in force.
She was in excellent health when last I saw her.
Farrell, I want you and your brother to stand clear.
You as well, Doctor. I have no interest in you today.
What is your intention, Rooster? You think one on four is a dogfall?
I mean to kill you in one minute, Ned.
Or see you hanged in Fort Smith at Judge Parker's convenience.
Which will you have?
I call that bold talk for a one-eyed fat man!
Fill your hand, you son of a bitch!
-Shoot them, Mr LaBoeuf.
-Too far. Moving too fast.
Well, Rooster... I am shot to pieces.
It seems neither of us is to see Judge Parker.
Woo-hoo! Some bully shot! That was 400 yards, at least.
Well, the Sharps carbine is a...
Stand up, Tom Chaney!
Are you alive?
Are you there?
-Can you clamber out?
-There are snakes.
I am bit!
-Does Mr LaBoeuf survive?
Even a blow to the head could silence him for only a few short minutes.
Where are you bit?
Look away now.
I have her. Up with us!
We're up, Mr LaBoeuf. Take her.
We're off. I'll send help for you as soon as I can.
Don't wander off.
We are not leaving him.
I must get you to a doc, sis, or you're not going to make it.
-I'm in your debt for that shot, pard.
-Never doubt the Texas Ranger.
We must stop. Little Blackie is played out.
We have miles yet. Come on, you!
-That's it. Come on, now!
-He's getting away.
-Who's getting away, sis?
No, no, no!
I've grown old.
'A quarter century is a long time.
'By the time we reached Bagby's store,
'my hand had turned black. I was not awake when I lost the arm.
'The marshal had stayed with me, I was told, till I was out of danger.
'But he departed before I came round.
'Once home, I wrote him with an invitation to come by
'the next time he found himself near Yell County
'and collect the 50 I still owed him.
'I did not hear back from Marshal Cogburn and he did not appear.
'Then, one day I received a note from the marshal, with a flyer enclosed.
'He said he was travelling with a Wild West show,
'getting older and fatter.
'Would I like to come visit him when the show came to Memphis
'and swap stories with an old trail mate?
'He would understand if the journey were too long.
'Brief though his note was,
'it was rife with misspellings.'
Yessum? I am Cole Younger. This is Mr James.
It grieves me to tell you that you have missed Rooster.
He passed away three days ago
when the show was in Jonesboro, Arkansas.
Buried him there in the Confederate cemetery.
Reuben had a complaint what he referred to as "night hoss"
and I believe the warm weather was too much for him.
We had some lively times.
What was the nature of your acquaintance?
I knew the marshal long ago. We, too, had..."lively times".
Thank you, Mr Younger.
Keep your seat, trash.
'I had the body removed to our plot and I have visited it over the years.
'No doubt people talk about that.
'They say, "Well, she hardly knew the man.
'"Isn't she a cranky old maid?"
'It is true, I have not married. I never had time to fool with it.
'I heard nothing more of the Texas officer, LaBoeuf.
'If he is yet alive, I would be pleased to hear from him.
'I judge he would be in his 70s now,
'and nearer 80 than 70.
'I expect some of the starch has gone out of that cowlick.
'Time just gets away from us.'
Western remake. A drink-hardened, one-eyed US marshal helps a 14-year-old girl to avenge her father's murder. The unlikely duo set off on a trek through Colorado, joined by a Texas ranger who is also searching for the murderer.