No, please! No! Please!
Davey!
- Come a running, lad! - Please don't!
- Stop it! - Brand you like a damn steer, bitch!
No, please!
Hold the bitch, Davey! Go on, hold her!
Goddamn it, Davey. Hold her or I'll cut her tits off!
Go get Skinny! Quick!
Mike, don't!
Skinny!
Do you think it's funny?
Skinny! Get the gun!
Get off of her, cowboy.
- They wouldn't let you settle it? - You know how Skinny is.
He says he's gonna shoot them.
I says, "You can't." He says, "Get Little Bill in here to settle this."
I says, "He's sleeping." But he says he don't care.
In another five minutes, he's gonna shoot them boys.
Is she gonna die?
She's gonna live.
She didn't steal nothing. She didn't even touch his poke.
But when she seen he had a teensy little pecker...
...she gave a giggle. That's all. She didn't know no better.
You can hang them, Little Bill.
Step over to the office and get the bullwhip.
A whipping? That's all they get after what they done?
- It ain't no little thing. - But what they done...
Alice!
Shut up!
- A whipping ain't gonna settle this. - Oh, no?
Here's a contract between me and Delilah Fitzgerald, the cut whore.
I brought her from Boston, paid her expenses and all.
And I got a contract that represents an investment of capital.
Property.
Damaged property.
Like if I was to hamstring one of their cow ponies.
You figure nobody'll wanna fuck her now, right?
Hell, no!
Leastways they won't pay to do it!
She could clean up the place, but nobody's gonna pay good money...
...for a cut-up whore!
You boys are off the Bar T.
Got your own string of ponies?
Yeah, I got four.
Six.
Guess you'd just soon as not have a trial, no fuss?
No, sir.
All right.
You did the cutting.
Come the thaw, you bring in five ponies and you give them over to Skinny.
Five?
And you...
You bring in two.
- You give them over, you hear? - Yes, sir.
Here's the bullwhip, Bill.
Maybe we don't need this whip now.
Let me tell you, come the spring, and Skinny don't have those ponies...
...l'm gonna come looking for you. - You ain't even gonna whip them?
Well, I fined them instead, Alice.
For what they done, Skinny gets some ponies! That's it?
That ain't fair, Little Bill.
That ain't fair!
Haven't you seen enough blood for one night?
Hell, Alice...
...it ain't like they was tramps or loafers or...
...bad men. They were just...
...hardworking boys that was foolish.
- Lf they was wicked in a regular way... - Like whores?
Alice, tend to Delilah.
Go ahead.
I got $85.
I don't know.
If Delilah doesn't care, what are we getting so riled up about?
Just because we let them smelly fools ride us like horses...
...don't mean we gotta let them brand us like horses.
Maybe we ain't nothing but whores, but we...
By God, we ain't horses!
I got $112.
That's everything.
How about you, Faith?
$200.
$240.
Jesus, Faith, what you been doing?
You been giving Skinny something special?
She laughs.
With what Kate got, and Silky got some, and mine and Little Sue...
It ain't enough.
Not yet, maybe.
You don't look like no son-of-a-bitching, cold-blooded assassin.
Say what?
My guess is you're calling yourself Mr. William Munny.
You have me confused with someone else, mister.
Same one as shot Charlie Pepper up in Lake County?
Pa! Hey, Pa!
What's up, son?
Two more hogs got the fever.
Didn't you shoot Charlie Pepper?
You killed William Harvey and robbed that train over in Missouri.
Hold on, mister.
Son, you get those hogs separated there.
Penny, why don't you help your brother?
That one's sick, too.
We'll talk inside.
So you're Pete Sothow's nephew?
I thought maybe you'd come to kill me for something I'd done in the old days.
I could have.
Easy.
I guess maybe so.
Like I was saying, you don't look like no meaner-than-hell, cold-blooded damn killer.
Maybe I ain't.
Yeah, well Uncle Pete says you was the meanest goddamn son of a bitch alive.
And if I ever wanted a partner for a killing...
...you were the worst one.
Meaning the best.
On account as you're as cold as the snow...
...and you don't have no weak nerve nor fear.
Pete said that?
Yeah, he did.
I'm a damn killer myself, except I ain't killed as many as you...
...because of my youth.
Schofield Kid, they call me.
Why?
You from Schofield?
No, it's on account of my...
...Schofield model Smith & Wesson pistol.
How about it, Will?
How about what?
How about being my partner?
I'm heading up north in through Niobrara up to Wyoming.
Gonna kill a couple of no-good cowboys.
For what?
For cutting up a lady.
They cut up her face.
Cut her eyes out, cut her ears off.
Hell, they even cut her teats.
Jesus.
$1,000 reward, Will.
$500 apiece.
Pa, I can't move those damn pigs!
Watch your cussing now, will you?
Do the best you can with it. Go to the pump and get cleaned up.
Come on.
I ain't like that anymore, Kid.
It was whiskey done it as much as anything else.
I ain't had a drop in over 10 years.
My wife, she...
...cured me of that...
...cured me of drink and...
...wickedness.
Well, you don't look so prosperous.
Hell, you could buy her a new dress with your half.
We could kill them two. You could buy your wife a fancy...
She's passed on.
What?
Been gone near three years now.
Don't tell anyone about the reward. I don't need no other gunman trying to collect.
We don't see no one out here.
If you change your mind, maybe you could catch me.
I'll be riding due west for the Western Trail headed north into Wyoming.
Come on, let's separate those hogs.
Two of them others...
...I think they got the fever.
Took you boys a while.
A couple more days and I was going to call on the sheriff.
How about that?
The river was all swelled up. Couldn't cross it.
I bet. Sleepy, get them horses on the livery.
Neil, take that one over around the back.
Now here's a beauty.
You got two of mine. This one here ain't yours.
We'll see about that.
Bastards! Get out of town!
Get out of here!
You are very sick sons of bitches!
Don't come back, butcher!
This here pony...
...I brung for the lady, the one my partner cut.
She's the best of the lot.
Better than the ones I gave him.
She can sell her...
...or do what she wants.
A pony?
She ain't got no face left. You're gonna give her a mangy pony?
She ain't mangy, ma'am!
Get out of here!
We don't need your goddamn charity!
Get out of our town and don't come back!
Get out of our town!
Did Pa use to kill folks?
Penny, I could tell your ma liked those flowers I gave her.
She ain't hardly a saddle horse no more, Pa. She ain't used to the feel.
You take care of your sister now, son.
Kill a few chickens if you have to, and keep the hogs with the fever separate.
If you have any problem, you go see Sally Two Trees at Ned Logan's.
Ain't hardly been in the saddle myself in a while.
This horse is getting even with me for the sins of my youth.
In my youth, before I met your dear departed ma...
...I used to be weak and given to mistreating animals.
This horse and those hogs over there...
...are getting even with me for the cruelty that I inflicted.
I used to be able to cuss and whip a horse like this...
...but your ma, rest her soul, showed me the error of my ways.
I'll be back in a couple of weeks.
Remember how the spirit of your dear departed ma watches over you.
- Where'd you get that money? - We ain't got any money!
- You told them cowboys you had! - We was lying!
Lying?
What will you do when somebody comes to collect?
You gonna hump them? You gonna hump them a thousand times?
The kind of people that come after $1,000 won't tolerate you not having it!
They won't just cut up your face a little!
You stupid bitches.
Shit!
Damn it! Jesus!
Get your finger?
Hello, Skinny.
Man, you snuck up on me.
What do you think of her?
I heard you done the roof yourself.
Roof?
Jesus, Skinny, I did practically the whole damn thing myself.
The Roberts boy carried some wood for me, but that's all.
What's all that wood?
I'm building a porch here so I can sit of an evening and smoke my pipe...
...and drink coffee and watch the sunset.
Came all the way out here just to see her?
Them whores...
...been humping all them cowboys that been to town the last two weeks.
Shit.
We got our railroad barons. We got cattle barons.
You're gonna be the first billiard baron.
They been humping up and telling every bowlegged one of them...
...they're paying $1,000 to whatever son of a bitch...
...kills the two boys that cut up Delilah.
Those cowboys are riding that beef down to Kansas and Cheyenne?
How long? All week?
I didn't hear nothing till last night myself.
The word's probably got all the way down to Texas by now.
Nobody's gonna come clear from Texas.
You sure they got all that money?
Women can lie. Knock them around, ask where it is, they say they got none.
They could've squirreled away that much, the five of them.
Maybe.
That much?
You could run off them two cowboys.
I could run off them whores.
I guess they'll just up and run anyhow, them two.
They'll stay out there at the Bar T.
Close to their friends.
Oh, shit, could be nobody won't come at all.
Well, got to go. I like your house.
Well, I'll be...
It's Will.
Come on in the house out the sun.
Sally, see to Will's horse.
What you doing here?
Just thought I'd drop in on you.
We ain't bad men no more.
Shit, we're farmers.
Should be easy killing them, supposing they don't go on down to Texas first.
How long has it been since you fired a gun at a man, Will? Nine, ten years?
Eleven.
Easy, huh?
I don't know that it was all that easy even back then.
And we was young and full of beans.
I mean, if you was mad at them...
...if they'd done you wrong, I could see shooting them.
We done stuff for money before, Ned.
We thought we did.
All right, so what'd these fellows do?
Cheat at cards? Steal some strays? Spit on a rich fellow? What?
- No, they cut up a woman. - What?
Cut her face, cut her eyes out, cut her fingers off, cut her tits.
Everything but her cunny, I suppose.
I'll be dogged.
Guess they got it coming.
Of course, you know, Will...
...if Claudia was alive, you wouldn't be doing this.
I don't suppose you'd look in on my youngsters next week?
Got some hogs they're trying to separate.
How long are you gonna be?
Two weeks, I guess.
This Kid, what's he like?
Three ways?
I see you still have that Spencer rifle.
And I can still knock the eye out of a bird flying, too.
Jesus, Will.
He must be moving right along.
We'll come across him tomorrow, I reckon.
Got to get used to my bed. This ain't going to be like no home.
That ain't the only thing I'll miss, I'll tell you.
Hell, I'm sorry.
Don't fret it. It ain't nothing.
She don't like it much, does she...
...you riding off with me?
Gave me the evil eye.
You know, Sally's Indian and...
...lndians ain't over-friendly.
I don't blame her.
I ain't gonna hold it against her.
She knew me back then.
She knew what a...
...no-good son of a bitch I was.
She ain't allowing that I changed.
She don't realize I ain't like that no more.
- You know women. - I ain't the same, Ned.
Claudia, she straightened me up. Cleared me of drinking whiskey and all.
Going on this killing...
...don't mean I'm gonna go back to the way I was.
I just need the money.
Get a new start for them youngsters.
Remember that drover I shot through the mouth...
...and his teeth came out the back of his head?
I think about him now and again.
He didn't do anything to deserve to get shot.
At least nothing I could remember when I sobered up.
You was one crazy son of a bitch.
No one liked me.
The boys all thought I'd shoot them out of pure meanness.
You ain't like that no more.
Eagle, he hated my guts.
Bonaparte didn't think too much of me, either.
Quincy neither, I reckon.
Quincy used to just watch all the time.
Scared.
Like I said...
...you ain't like that no more.
That's right.
I'm just a fellow now.
I ain't no different than anyone else.
No more.
All I want to know is what son of a bitch shot him is all.
Was it one of them John Bulls?
No, sir.
The would-be assassin is a gentleman of French ancestry. Or so it would seem.
I don't wish to give offense, when I observe...
...the French are known to be a race of assassins...
...who can't shoot worth a damn.
Any Frenchmen in the present company are excluded, of course.
Says here a fellow by the name of Guiteau. G-U-l-T...
Sure as hell sounds like a John Bull to me.
Well, sir, again, I don't wish to give offense...
...when I suggest that this country should select...
...a king or even a queen, rather than a president.
One isn't that quick to shoot a king or a queen.
The majesty of royalty, you see.
Maybe you don't wish to give offense, sir...
...but you are giving it pretty thick.
This country don't need no queens whatsoever, I reckon.
- When I heard about queens... - Shut up, Joe.
What the hell's wrong with you, Thurston? This dude...
Might be that this dude here is English Bob.
He's the one that works for the railroad shooting Chinamen.
Might be he's waiting for some cowboy...
...to touch his pistol so he can shoot him down.
Is that a fact, mister?
You English Bob?
Pheasants.
Let's shoot some pheasants.
Ten shots.
And let's say $1 a pheasant.
I'll shoot for the queen, and you for...
...whomever.
That's eight for me and one for you.
That comes to $7.
Pretty damn good shooting...
...for a John Bull.
No doubt your aim was affected by your grief...
...over the injury to your president.
It's the climate that does it. That, and the infernal distances.
Does what?
Induces people to shoot persons in high places.
You know, it's a savage country, really.
That's the second one they shot in 20 years.
It's uncivilized shooting persons of substance.
Thank you.
Pardon me, gentlemen.
Local ordinance obliges you to surrender all sidearms...
...to the proper authorities for the duration of your visit.
Proper authority?
I can assure you, young man...
...that neither my companion nor I carry firearms on our person.
We rely upon the goodwill of our fellow man and the...
...forbearance of reptiles.
Unarmed, my ass.
Christ, it's hot.
If I'm going to get shot, I'd rather it was hot than cold.
Everything hurts me more when it's cold.
- You hit your thumb in the cold... - Shut up, Fatty!
- I only said... - Clyde's back.
- Is Little Bill with him? - No.
Shit.
- You boys clean my Remington? - Cleaned and loaded.
Where's Little Bill, for Christ's sake?
Building his damn porch.
Building his porch?
If you got shot, would you like it better on a hot or cold day?
I ain't going to get shot.
He's coming, ain't he?
Of course he's coming.
I just loaded that.
I don't trust nobody to load my guns for a shooting.
What'd he say?
Bill didn't say nothing. He said he was building his porch.
You seen that thing?
It was all loaded.
You got three pistols and you only got one arm!
I just don't want to get killed for lack of shooting back.
He don't have a straight angle on that whole damn porch!
Or the whole house, for that matter!
He is the worst damn carpenter.
He didn't say nothing?
Asked what they looked like.
Maybe he's tough but he sure ain't no carpenter.
Maybe he ain't so tough.
Seem like he was scared?
Little Bill? Him scared?
We've never seen him up against any like these ones.
Killers.
Little Bill comes out of Kansas and Texas, boys.
He worked them tough towns.
Just wondered.
Anybody could be scared.
He wasn't scared, boys.
He just ain't no carpenter.
There's a dignity in royalty. A majesty that precludes the likelihood of assassination.
If you were to point a pistol at a queen...
...your hands would shake as though palsied.
I wouldn't point no pistol at nobody.
Always a wise policy.
But if you did, I can assure you, if you did...
...the sight of royalty would cause you to dismiss all thoughts of bloodshed.
You would stand, how should I put it?
In awe.
Now, a president...
Well, why not shoot the president?
Keep the change.
This Strawberry Alice person, tell me again.
Down the street and across to Greely's Beer Garden and Billiards Parlor.
Ask for Alice, say you want a game of billiards.
Billiards?
Even though I don't wish to play?
No matter. They burned the table in '78 for firewood.
Quite right.
Mr. Beauchamp, I think a cup of tea...
Hello, Bob.
Boys, this here is English Bob.
Shit and fried eggs.
Been a long time.
Run out of Chinamen?
I thought that you were dead.
I see you've shaved your chin whiskers off.
I was tasting the soup two hours after I ate it.
Actually, what I heard was you...
...fell off your horse. Drunk, of course.
And that you broke your bloody neck.
I heard that one myself, Bob.
Hell, I even thought I was dead...
...till I found out I was just in Nebraska.
Who's your friend?
W.W. Beauchamp.
This is Little Bill Daggett.
And friends, of course.
From Newton, Hays? From Abilene?
In person.
You work for the railroads, too, Mr. Beauchamp?
I write.
Letters?
Books, Bill. Books.
Actually...
...he's my biographer.
I wouldn't do that if I were you.
It's only a book.
A book?
That means you boys can read.
That means you saw the signs outside of town...
...saying surrender your firearms.
But, like you told young Andy...
...you're not armed, are you?
Not really, Bill.
Got a Peacemaker, but that wouldn't worry you, would it?
If you don't see it. Or most particularly, if you don't hear it.
I'm afraid so, Bob.
I don't like firearms around.
Be very careful with it, sonny.
See what kind of books Mr. Beauchamp is packing here.
Make sure you don't get wet.
No shit.
All he's got here is writing stuff and this here book.
The Duck of Death?
Duke.
The Duke.
Good afternoon, gentlemen.
I'll have that.32, Bob.
Now, Little Bill.
You will leave me at the mercy of my enemies.
Enemies?
You been talking about the queen again?
On Independence Day?
I guess you think I'm kicking you.
But it ain't so!
What I'm doing is talking!
You hear?
Talking to all them villains down there in Kansas!
To all those villains in Missouri!
And all those villains...
...down in Cheyenne!
I'm telling them there ain't no whore's gold!
Even if there was, they wouldn't want to come looking for it...
...anyhow!
What are you all looking at?
Go on! Get out of here!
Mind your own business!
You ever go into town?
On occasion.
To sell a hog, pick up supplies.
I mean, to get yourself a woman?
No, I never go into town for that.
A man like me?
Only woman a man like me could get is one he'd have to pay for.
That ain't right, buying flesh.
Claudia, rest her soul, wouldn't ever want me doing that.
Me being a father and all.
You just use your hand?
I don't miss it all that much.
Goddamn, somebody's shooting at us!
Did he hit you?
I bumped my head falling off my horse.
Ain't shooting at us no more.
Shooting way over yonder.
What the hell's he shooting at over there?
Beats the hell out of me.
You don't reckon we're in somebody's field?
I didn't see nothing planted.
Shooting at us again.
He's shooting at the whole horizon.
Wait! You'll mark us!
Hey, Kid!
That's the Kid shooting at us?
Kid, it's me! Will Munny!
What the hell's he shooting at us for?
That you?
Yeah, that's me!
Don't go shooting at us no more! You hear me?
Who the hell you got with you, Will?
It's Ned Logan, my old partner!
Don't go shooting at us, you hear?
We're gonna collect our horses and come on over there.
You ain't going to shoot now, are you?
I ain't!
Chased that horse a damn mile.
- What was you shooting at us for? - I thought you was following me.
We was following you. You said if I changed my mind...
Wasn't nothing said about no partner.
This here's Ned Logan.
This here's the Schofield Kid, nephew to Pete Sothow.
I seen two fellows following me. My guess is you come to kill me.
We never talked about no other fellow.
There's two cowboys. Better there's three of us, if they got friends.
I can take care of them two cowboys myself. It don't take three.
Ned's an awful good shot with a rifle. Hit a bird in the eye flying.
Better than you, anyhow.
- You wasn't even coming close. - Get your hands off my rifle.
Thought I'd check it for you. Thought maybe something was bent.
It ain't bent.
You were shooting all over creation!
You'll share your half with him?
I figured three ways.
You figured wrong.
Sorry I wasted your time, Ned.
You going back with him?
He's my partner.
He don't go, I don't go.
What's it come to, three ways?
Shit!
What the hell are you pissing on about?
What are you looking at?
Looking at?
Clouds, Kid.
He's looking at them clouds on account of we got a storm coming.
Hell, I seen them.
You was smart to change your mind.
I'm a real good shot with this rifle.
See that hawk?
I could hit it with one shot.
Hell, I could hit it, too, if I didn't mind wasting a shot.
There ain't no hawk, Kid.
You can't see for shit, can you?
See your canteen?
How far can you see?
Far enough.
- We ain't going to shoot canteens! - How far? 100 yards?
More.
- Can you see that scrub oak yonder? - Fuck you.
- He's blind, Will! - I ain't blind, you asshole!
Hold it!
How far can you see, Kid? 50 yards?
You bet your ass I can see 50 yards, Will.
I can see well enough to shoot this son of a bitch in front of me.
Hold on.
Hear that, Ned?
Kid can see 50 yards. Fine.
Jesus.
50 yards'll do just fine. Now let's move out.
They look like real hard cases, Bob.
Did you kill all seven of them dead?
Or did you just wing some of them?
That is you there embalmed on the cover?
The Duck of Death?
The Duke.
The Duke of Death.
You always were a genius with a pistol, but seven of them? Boy!
Protecting that woman and all that. How the hell do you do that?
It's generally considered desirable in the publishing business to take a certain...
...liberty when you're depicting the cover scene...
...for reasons involving the marketplace.
From what I read, the writing's not that much different than the picture.
I can assure you, Mr. Daggett...
...that the events described are taken from the accounts of eyewitnesses.
- Eyewitnesses? - Yes, sir.
Like the Duck himself, I guess.
The Duke.
Duck, I says.
"'You have insulted the honor of this beautiful woman, Corcoran'...
"...said the Duck.
"'You must apologize.'
"But Two-Gun Corcoran would have none of it.
"And cursing, he reached for his pistols and would have killed him...
"...but the Duck was faster and hot lead blazed from his smoking six-guns."
See, I consider that to be an accurate depiction of events.
There is a certain poetry to the language which I couldn't resist.
I was in the Blue Bottle Saloon in Wichita...
...the night that English Bob killed Corky Corcoran.
I didn't see you there.
Nor no woman.
Nor two-gun shooters.
Nor none of this.
- You were there? - Yeah, I was there.
First off...
...Corky never carried two guns, though he should have.
He was called Two-Gun Corcoran.
A lot of folks did call him Two-Gun.
But not because he was sporting two pistols.
Because he had a dick that was so big...
...it was longer than the barrel on his Walker Colt.
The only insulting he ever did was stick that thing of his...
...into a French lady English Bob was kind of sweet on.
The night that Corky walked into the Blue Bottle...
...before he knows what's happening, Bob takes a shot at him!
And misses, 'cause he's damn drunk.
That bullet whizzing by panicked Corky, and he did the wrong thing.
He went for his gun in such a hurry, he shot his toe.
Meantime, Bob here...
...he's aiming real good and squeezes off another...
...but he misses, 'cause he's still so damn drunk!
He hits this $1,000 mirror over the bar.
The Duck of Death is as good as dead...
...because Corky does it right.
He aims real careful.
No hurry...
The Walker Colt blew up in his hand...
...which was a failing common to that model.
If old Corky had had two guns instead of just a big dick...
...he would've been there to the end to defend himself.
Wait a minute.
English Bob killed him when he didn't even have...
Bob wasn't going to wait for Corky to grow a new hand.
No, he just walked over there real slow...
...'cause he's drunk...
...and shot him right through the liver.
I don't like rocks on my dad-gum back.
- I sure do miss my bed. - You said that last night.
Last night I said I missed my wife. Tonight I just miss my dad-gum bed!
You'll miss your dad-gum roof here in a while, I suppose.
Say, Will?
That business up in Jackson County...
...that really happen?
I mean the way they say it happened?
What business?
On how there's two deputies up close, pointing their rifles right at you.
Got you dead to rights.
You pulled out your pistol and blew them both to hell.
Only took a scratch yourself.
Uncle Pete says he never seen nothing like it, shooting your way out of that scrape.