True Grit (2010)

[bunniefuu]

People do not give it credence that a young girl could leave home and go off in the winter time to avenge her father's blood.

But it did happen.

I was just fourteen years of age when a coward by the name of Tom Chaney sh*t 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'd been cheated, and went back to the boarding house for his Henry r*fle.

When Papa tried to intervene, Chaney sh*t him.

Chaney fled.

He could have walked his horse, for not a soul in that city could be bothered to give chase.

No doubt Chaney fancied himself scott free.

But he was wrong.

You must pay for everything in this world, one way or 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 has 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 fifty dollars.

You did not specify that he was to be shipped.

Well sixty dollars is every cent we have. That 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 some other business.

Your mama didn't say nothing about you settling no business here.

It's business Mama didn't know about. It's all right, Yarnell, I dismiss you.

I am 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?

These people? I'm expecting three more souls.

Sullivan, Smith, 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 k*lled a man.

In a trifling quarrel over a pocket Kn*fe.

If I had received good instruction as a child...

Can you point out the sheriff?

Him with the mustaches.

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 she will not slight them and compel them to go into low company.

Well...

I k*lled the wrong man, is the which of why I'm here.

Had I k*lled the man I meant to, I don't believed I'd have been convicted.

I see men out there in that crowd that's worse than me.

Okay.

Before I am hanged, I would like to say...

Naw, 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 g*ng robbed a mail hack yesterday on the Poteau River.

Well, why are you not looking for him?

I have no authority in the Indian Nation.

Tom Chaney is the business of the U.S 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's 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.

All alone? Well 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 k*ller hanged.

Well, nothing prevents you from offering a reward and so informing a marshal.

It'd have to be real money though, to be persuasive.

Chaney's across the river, in Choctaw Nation.

I will see to the money. Who's the best marshal?

I'd 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's a pitiless man. Double tough. Fear don't enter into his thinking.

Hmm, loves to pull a cork.

The best is probably L.T. Quinn.

He brings his prisoners in alive.

Now 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 place is occupied.

I know it is occupied, Mr. Cogburn. As I said, I have business with you.

I have prior business.

You've been at it for quite some time, Mr. Cogburn.

There is no clock on my business.

The hell with you. How did you stalk me here?

The sheriff told me to look in the saloon.

The saloon then referred me here. We must talk.

Women ain't allowed in the saloon.

I was not there as a customer. I am fourteen years old.

The place is occupied.

Will be for some time.

Good evening.

If you would like to sleep in a coffin, I would be honored.

How much are you paying for cotton?

Nine and a half for low and middlin', and ten for ordinary.

We got most of ours out early, and sold to the Woodson brothers in Little Rock for eleven cents.

Then I suggest you take the balance of it to the Woodson brothers.

I did take the balance to Woodson.

We got ten and a half.

Why'd you come here to tell me this?

I thought we might shop around up here next year, but I guess we're doing alright in Little Rock.

I'm Mattie Ross.

Daughter of Frank Ross.

Aw, tragic thing.

May I say, your father impressed me with his manly qualities. He was a close trader, but he acted the gentleman.

I propose to sell those ponies back to you that my father bought.

Well that I fear, is out of the question.

I will see that they are shipped to you at my earliest convenience.

We don't want the ponies now. We don't need them.

Well, that hardly concerns me. Your father bought the ponies and paid for them, and there's the 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.

Yeah, I admire your sand.

But I believe you'll find I'm not liable for such claims.

You were the custodian.

If you were a bank that were robbed, you could not simply tell your depositors to go hang.

I do not entertain hypotheticals. The world as it is is vexing enough.

Secondly, your evaluation of the horse is high by about $200. How old are you?

If anything, my price is low.

My Judy was a fine racing mare.

I've seen her jump an eight-rail fence with a heavy rider. I'm fourteen.

Oh, well, it'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 you 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'll take $200 for Judy, plus one hundred for the ponies, and $25 for the grey horse that Tom Chaney left.

He was easily worth forty.

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 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 can't accept that.

There will be no settlement after I leave this office. It will go to law.

All right, this is my last offer.

$250. 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 the ownership of the grey horse.

He will come after you with a Writ of Replevin. A what?

Writ of Replev... All right, now look.

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.

Well, Lawyer Dagget 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's what I have to say about that saddle.

Frank Ross's daughter...

Oh, my poor child...

Oh, my poor child...

Now are you going to be staying 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.

Now you'll be rooming with Grandma Turner.

We're having 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.

Now, if you need something for to tote the g*n around, I can give you an empty flour sack for a nickel.

What did you see when you arrived?

A woman was out in the yard dead with blow flies on her face.

An old man was inside with his breast blown open by a scatter g*n, and his feet b*rned.

He was still alive, but just was. Said it was them two Wharton boys done it.

Rode up, drunk. Objection.

Hearsay.

Dying declaration, your honor.

Objection's overruled. Proceed Mr. Cogburn.

Now them two Wharton boys, that'd be Odus and C.C., throwed down on him, asked him where his money was, but he wouldn't tell them.

They lit pine knots and held them to his feet.

He told them the money was in the fruit jar.

Under a grey rock at the corner of the smoke house.

And then?

Well, he d*ed on us. Passed away in considerable pain.

What'd you do then?

Me and Marshal Potter went out to the smoke house.

And that rock had been moved. The jar with the money in it was gone.

Objection. Speculative. Sustained.

You found a flat grey rock in the corner of the smoke house with a hollowed out space beneath it.

If the prosecutor is 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, nothing there.

Then what did you... No jar or nothing.

And then what did you do?

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, spotted them two boys and their old daddy, Aaron, down the creek bank with some hogs.

They'd k*lled a shoat Had a fire built up under a wash pot for scalding water.

What did you do?

Announced we was U.S. marshals, I hollered out to Aaron I needed to talk to his two boys.

He raised an a*, commenced to cussing us and blackguarding this court.

What did you do then?

I backed away from the a*, tried to talked some sense into him.

While this was going on, C.C. he edges over to the wash pot there, behind the steam, and picks up a shotgun.

Potter seen him, but it was too late.

C.C. Wharton pulled out on Potter with one barrel.

Turned to do the same for me and I sh*t him.

And the old man raised the a*, and I sh*t him.

Odus lit out, and I sh*t him.

C.C. Wharton and Aaron Wharton were dead when they hit the ground.

Odus was just winged.

Did you find the jar with $120 in it?

Leading. Sustained.

What happened then?

Found a jar with $120 in it.

What became of Odus Wharton?

There he sits.

You may ask, Mr. Goudy.

Thank you, Mr. Barlow.

Mr. Cogburn, in your four years as a U.S. marshal, how many men have you sh*t?

Never sh*t nobody that didn't ask for it. Well that was not the question.

How many?

sh*t or k*lled?

Let us restrict it to k*lled, so that we may have a manageable figure.

About twelve... or fifteen. Stopping men in flight, defending myself, et cetera.

Around twelve he says.

Or fifteen.

So many, you cannot keep a precise count.

I have examined the records and can supply the accurate figure.

Oh...

I believe them two Wharton boys makes it twenty-three.

And how many members of this one family, the Wharton family, have you k*lled?

Immediate, or...? Did you also sh**t Dub Wharton, brother?

And Clete Wharton, half brother?

Well, Clete was selling ardent spirits to the Cherokee.

He come at me with a king bolt.

A king bolt?

You were armed, and he advanced upon you with nothing more than a king bolt?

From a wagon tongue?

I've seen men badly torn up with nothing bigger than a king bolt. I defended myself.

Returning to the other encounter, with Aaron Wharton and his two remaining sons.

You sprang from cover with revolver in hand.

I did. Loaded and cocked.

Well if it ain't loaded and cocked, it don't sh**t.

And like his son, Aaron Wharton advanced against an armed man.

Well, he was armed. He had an axe raised.

I believe you testified you backed away from Aaron Wharton.

That's right. Which direction were you going?

I always go backwards when I'm backing up.

Very amusing.

Now he advanced on you much in the manner of Clete Wharton.

Menacing you with that little ol' king bolt, or rolled up newspaper, or whatever it was.

Yes, sir. He commenced to cussing and laying about a thr*at. And you were backing away.

How many steps before the sh**ting started?

Uh, seven to eight steps.

Good, and Wharton keeping pace, advancing away from his campfire.

Seven, eight steps.

What would that be?

Fifteen, twenty feet?

I suppose.

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 smoldering?

Did you move the body after you sh*t him?

Why would I do that?

You did not drag the body over to the fire and fling his arm in?

No, sir. 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 his campfire.

Objection.

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 were moving around. They might have moved him.

I do not remember.

Son of a bitch.

Mr. Cogburn. 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 sh*t and k*lled 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 someone 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'll need help with the churning.

There is a fugitive warrant out for Chaney.

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 you got there in your poke?

My god, a Colt Dragoon.

You're no bigger than a corn nubbin. What are you doing with a p*stol like that?

I intend to k*ll Tom Chaney with it.

k*ll Tom Chaney? If the law fails to do so.

Well 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's 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 our lawyer countersigns.

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's... the bed is quite narrow.

The second floor back did open up.

But uh, that gentleman on the porch has just taken it.

Oh, but don't worry yourself, dear.

You're not disturbing Grandma Turner.

My name is LaBoeuf.

I 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 name Theron Chelmsford.

John Todd Anderson, and others.

He dallied in Monroe, Louisiana and Pine Bluff, Arkansas before turning up at your father's place.

Then why did you not catch him at 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?

That's right.

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 sh*t and k*lled a state senator named Bibbs in Waco, Texas.

Bibbs' family put out a reward.

And how came Chaney to sh**t a state senator?

My understanding is there was an argument about a dog.

You know anything about the whereabouts of Chaney?

Well he's in the territory, and I hold out little hope for you winning your bounty.

Why is that? My man will b*at you to it.

I've hired a deputy marshal. The toughest one they have.

And he's familiar with the Lucky Ned Pepper g*ng they say Chaney's tied up with.

Well, I will throw in with you and your marshal.

No, Marshal Cogburn and I are fine. It'll be to our mutual advantage.

Your marshal, I presume, knows the territory.

I know Chaney. It's at least a two-man job to take him in 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 sh**ting 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.

Oh, I'm sorry that you're paid piecework and not on wages.

And that you have been eluded the winter long by a half-wit.

You give out very little sugar with your pronouncements.

When 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, you might tame that cowlick.

Madame, 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'm not acquainted with Grandma Turner.

She is a resident of the 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.

Oh, certainly not.

I'm paying you for a horse I do not possess, and I bought back a string of useless ponies which I cannot sell again.

You're forgetting the grey horse.

Crow bait.

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 another buyer for the ponies.

Well 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 horse flesh.

So it would. I'm confident the deal will fall through.

Look here, I need a pony and I will pay $10 for one of them.

No, that's a lot price. No, no, it...

Wait a minute.

Are we trading again?

This one is beautiful.

He don't know he got a rider.

You're too light.

He thinks he's 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.

No, ma'am, I ain't supposed to utter your name.

See, sleep.

That is fine. I will wake him.

Marshal Cogburn.

It is I, Mattie Ross, your employer.

How long 'till you're ready to go?

Go where?

To the Indian Territory to pursue Tom Chaney.

Oh, you're the grieved girl with stories of El Dorado.

Huh. How much money you got there?

I said $50 to achieve Chaney. You did not believe me?

I did not know.

You're a hard one to figure.

How long for you to make ready to depart?

Well, hold on, sis.

Though I remember your offer, I do not remember agreeing to it.

If I'm to go up against Ned Pepper, I'll need $100. That much I can tell you. $100.

To retrieve your man, $100.

I will take that $50 in advance. It'll be for expenses.

You are trying to take advantage of me.

I am 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'd confiscate it.

I'm an officer of the court.

Ah, thank you.

$100. That's the rate.

Then I shall not niggle.

Can we depart this afternoon?

We?

You're not going. That ain't no part of it.

You have misjudged me if you think I'm silly enough to give you $50 and watch you simply ride off.

I am a bonded U.S. marshal.

That weighs but little with me.

I will see the thing done.

Damn ducks. Can't go after Ned Pepper.

Man's a hard man, and to look after a baby at the same time...

I am not a baby.

Won't be stopping at boarding houses, where there's a warm bed and hot grub on the table.

I'll be grabbing a saddle. Eating light.

When the sleeping is done, it'll take place on the ground.

Well I have slept out at night before.

Papa took me and little Frank 'co*n hunting last summer on the Petit Jean.

We were in the woods all night.

We sat around a big fire and told ghost stories.

We had a good time.

'co*n hunting?

This ain't no 'co*n hunt.

It is the same idea as a 'co*n hunt.

Don't come within forty miles of being a co*n hunt.

You are just trying to make your work sound harder than it is.

Here's the money.

Now 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 7:00 tomorrow morning and we can begin our 'co*n hunt.

Dearest Mother, I am 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.

Their Papa's death will soon be avenged.

I am off for the Choctaw Nation.

Where's 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.

Well 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.

Hey!

Go, Little Blackie.

Come on.

That is quite a horse.

I will give you $10 for him.

From the money you stole from me?

It 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.

Why don't you put this child back on the ferry.

It's a long road and time's a' wasting.

If I go back, it's to the office of the U.S. marshals to report the theft of my money.

And "fudel", Marshal Cogburn? Pursuit would be "fudel"?

It's not spelled F-U-D-E-L.

It's 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'll 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 make do with a fire little more than twigs.

Buffalo chips.

Heat the night's ration of beans.

And it is Ranger policy never to make your camp in the same place as your cook fire.

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.

Well 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. Put it by the fire.

The creek will ice over tonight. I'm not going down there again.

If you want any more water, you can fetch it yourself.

You're lucky to be traveling in a place where a spring is so handy.

In my country, you could ride for days and see no ground water.

I have lapped filthy water from a hoof-print and was glad to have it.

If I ever meet one of you Texas boys who says he has never drank water out of a horse-track, I think I'd shake his hand and give him a Daniel Webster cigar.

You do not believe it?

Oh, 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're 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. Morning.

Where's Mr. LaBoeuf?

Down by the creek performing his necessaries.

Well, Marshal Cogburn, I welcome the chance for a private parley.

I gather that you and Mr. LaBoeuf have come to some... some sort of agreement.

And as your employer, I believe I have the right to know the particulars.

The particulars is that we'll bring Chaney down to the magistrate, in San Saba, Texas, where they have a considerable reward on him, 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 he's being punished for k*lling my father.

Well, you can let him know that. You can tell him to his face.

You can spit on him, make him eat sand out on the road. I will hold him down.

Or if you want, I'll flay the flesh off the soles of his feet.

Find you Indian pepper you can rub in his 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 failed to satisfy your terms, I'll return your money at the end of this expedition.

Little Blackie and I are riding back to the U.S. marshal's office. This is fraud.

God damn it.

What's going on?

This is a business conversation.

Is that what you call it?

Sounds to me you're still being hoorawed by a little girl.

You say, hoorawed? That was the word.

There is no hoorawing in it. My agreement with the Marshal ante-dates 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 were patriots, Texas trash!

They m*rder*d women and children in Lawrence, Kansas.

That's a God damn lie!

What army was you in, Mister?

I was at Shreveport.

First with Kirby Smith, then with... 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! Captain Quantrill?

Indeed!

Just let this go, LaBoeuf. Captain of what?

We're done.

There's not sufficient dollars in the state of Texas to make it worth my while to listen to your opinion.

Our agreement is nullified.

That suits me.

It's each man for himself.

Congratulations, Cogburn.

You've graduated from marauder to wet nurse.

Adios.

We don't need him, do we, Marshal?

We'd miss his Sharps carbine, It's apt to get lively out here.

Hey!

Go on.

You stay here, sister.

I will see Bagby.

Has Chaney been here?

No.

Coke Hays was, two days ago.

Coke rides with Lucky Ned.

Bought supplies with this.

Well, this is Papa's gold piece.

Tom Chaney, here we come.

Not the world's only California gold piece.

They are rare here.

They are rare.

But if it is Chaney's, just as easily mean that Lucky Ned and his g*ng 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?

Pursue them.

Ned's unfinished business for the marshals anyhow.

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 expect north. More to rob.

I found an eating place.

Called the Green Frog.

Started calling myself Burroughs.

But my drinking picked up.

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."

"Love of decency does not abide in you."

A divorced woman talking about decency.

I told her, "Goodbye, Nola."

"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 bet he broke forty cups.

Is it Chaney?

I would not recognize the soles of his feet.

Well, you'll have to clamber up and look.

I'm too old and too fat.

Now the Green Frog had one billiard table.

Served ladies and men both. Mostly men.

Tried running it myself for a while, but couldn't keep good help.

I never did learn how to buy meat.

That him?

I believe not.

Well, cut him down.

Why?

I might know him.

That's when I went out to the state plains of Texas.

sh**ting buffalo with Vernon Shaftoe and a Flathead Indian named Ollie.

Now the Mormons had run Shaftoe out of Great Salt Lake City.

Don't ask me what for.

All a misunderstanding. Leave it go at that.

Well, the big shaggies...

About all gone now.

Damn shame.

I'd give $3 right now for a pickled buffalo tongue.

Why did they hang him so high?

I do not know.

Must play in the belief it'd make him more dead.

I do not know this man.

You hanged him?

Why is he taking the hanged man?

Did he know him?

He did not.

But it is a dead body.

Must be worth something in the trade.

Now my second wife, Edna.

She got the notion she wanted me to be a lawyer.

Bought this heavy book called "Daniels on Negotiable Instruments".

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 here and Canada.

Nothing else grows but that has stickers on it.

Ask one of the...

I knew it. Knew what?

We's being followed.

I asked that injun to signal with a sh*t if someone was on our trail.

Should we be concerned, Marshal?

Naw, Mr. LaBoeuf is using us as a bird dog, in hopes of cutting in once we've flushed the prey.

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.

Ask him where he's going.

You are not LaBoeuf.

My name is Forrester.

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?

No. Say, it is fixing to get cold.

You know of anywhere to take shelter?

I have my bear skin.

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 picket wire and would not begrudge its use.

Much obliged. Now, 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's out there?

We're looking for shelter.

No room for you here. Ride on.

Who's in there? Ride on.

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 got a bucket of coal oil.

In one minute we will burn your house 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 Emmet 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 was our supper and breakfast both.

I like a big breakfast.

Sofky always cooks up bigger than you think.

Hmm. Good store of whiskey here, as well.

What are you boys up to, outside of cooking banquets?

Just having our supper.

You don't know who's outside in weather like this.

Might have been some crazy man.

Anyone can say that he is a marshal.

My leg hurts.

I'll bet it does.

When was the last time you see your old pard, Ned Pepper?

I do not know him. Who is he?

I'm surprised you don't remember him.

Skinny fellow, nervous and quick, his lips all messed up.

That don't bring anybody to mind.

There's a new boy that might be running with Ned.

He's got a powder mark on his face, black flash.

Calls himself Chaney.

Or Chelmsford, sometimes.

Carries a Henry r*fle.

That don't bring anybody to mind.

Black mark, I would remember that.

You don't remember nothing no more now, do you Quincy?

What do you know, Moon?

He 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 I get to Fort Smith, that leg will be swelled up tight as d*ck's hat band.

It'll be mortified.

They will cut it off.

And then, if you live, I'll get you two or three years in the Federal house up in Detroit, there. What are you trying to get at?

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're trying to get at me.

Now, you give me some 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. I was...

Quiet now. It's best you let me do the talking.

I would say I... We're weary trappers.

Who worked you over with the ugly stick?

The man, Chaney, with the marked face, k*lled my father.

He was a whiskey drinker like you and it led to k*lling 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'm puzzled by this.

Why is she here?

Don't go jawing 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 don't want to lose his leg.

Easy, now.

He's trying to get at you.

With the truth. We seen Ned and Hays two days ago.

Don't you act the fool. You blow, I will k*ll you!

I'm played out, I need a doctor.

We met Ned and Hays two days ago.

God damn it.

Oh, Lord.

I'm dying.

Do something.

Help me.

I can do nothing for you, son.

You partner's k*lled 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'd you see him?

Two days ago.

Bagby's store.

They were coming here tonight to get remounts and sofky.

They just robbed the Katy Flyer at the Wagoner's switch.

I'm gone.

Send the news to my brother, George Garrett.

He is a Methodist Circuit rider in south Texas.

Shall I tell him you've outlawed up?

It don't matter.

He knows I'm on the scale.

I will meet him later, walking the streets of glory.

Well, don't be looking for Quincy.

What will we do when they get here?

When they ride up, what we want is to get them all in the dugout.

I'll k*ll them the last one that goes in, then we'll have them in a barrel.

You'll sh**t him in the back?

It'll give them to know our intention is serious.

Then I'll call down.

See if they'll be taken alive.

If they won't, I'll sh**t 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.

Aw, it's just a turkey sh**t.

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, f*ring them two Navy Sixes I carry in 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.

What is? One man riding at seven.

Well, it's true.

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.

And 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.

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.

One man.

Did not figure them to send a scout.

Damn.

It is LaBoeuf.

Oh, we have to warn him, Marshal.

Too late.

What will we do, Marshal?

We sit. What does he do?

Him in the wooly chaps is Lucky Ned.

Well, that's that.

Well, that didn't pan out.

You managed to put a kink in my rope, partner.

I'm severely injured.

Yes, you got drug some.

I was also sh*t by a r*fle.

Well, that's quite possible. The scheme did not develop as I had planned.

You been sh*t in the shoulder, but the b*llet passed through.

What happened to your mouth?

I believe I bit myself.

Couple of teeth loose, and... Oh, yeah.

Tongue bit almost through.

Do you want to see if it will knit, or shall I just yank it free?

I know a teamster 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's that now?

What's that now?

Knit. Let it knit.

Ah, very well.

It's impossible to bind a tongue wound.

Too bad, we just run across a doctor.

Marshal? of sorts, but I do not know where he was headed.

I saw him too, that's how I came to be here.

Neither of these men are Chaney.

I know it. I know them both.

That ugly one is Coke Hays.

Him uglier still is Clement Parmalee.

Parmalee and his brothers have a silver claim in Winding Stair Mountains.

And I bet that's where Lucky Ned's g*ng is waiting.

Well, we'll sleep here.

We'll follow in the morning.

But we promised to bury the poor soul inside.

Ground's too hard.

Them men wanted a decent burial, they should have gotten themselves k*lled in summer.

Sleep well, Little Blackie.

I have a notion that tomorrow we will reach our object.

We're hot on the trail.

Seems that we'll overtake Tom Chaney at the Winding Stair Mountain.

I'd not want to be in his shoes.

As I understand it, Chaney, or Chelmsford, as he called himself in Texas, sh*t the Senator's dog.

When the Senator remonstrated, Chelmsford sh*t him as well.

Now you could argue that the sh**ting of the dog was merely an instance of malum prohibitum.

But the sh**ting of a senator is indubitably an instance of malum in se.

Malla-men what?

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 sh*t, trampled, and nearly severed his tongue.

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 a Sharps carbine, that is within range.

But I was mounted and had the choice of f*ring off-hand or dismounting to sh**t from rest, which would allow Chelmsford to augment the distance.

I fired mounted, and fired wild.

You cannot hit a man at 300 yards if your g*n was resting on Gibraltar.

A Sharps carbine is an instrument of uncanny power and precision.

I have no doubt that the g*n is sound.

My clothes are all ragged and my language is rough.

My bread is corn dodgers, both solid and tough.

And yet I'm happy, and live at my ease On sorghum molasses, and bacon, and cheese.

Greer County Bachelor.

I do not believe he slept.

Fort Smith is a healthy distance, LaBoeuf.

I would encourage the creature you ride to head at her.

Out here a one-armed man looks like easy prey.

And a one eyed man who can't sh**t?

Why don't you turn back, Cogburn?

I'll do fine.

I know where the Parmalee claim is.

I'm uninjured, well provisioned and we agreed to separate.

In conscience you cannot cite our agreement. You're the one who sh*t me.

Mr. LaBoeuf has a point, Marshal.

It is an unfair leg up in any competition to sh**t your opposite number.

God damn it. I do not accept it as a given that I did sh**t LaBoeuf.

There were plenty of g*ns going off.

I heard the r*fle, and I felt the ball.

You missed your sh*t, Cogburn.

Missed my sh*t!

You are more handicapped without the eye, than I without the arm.

I can hit a gnat's eye at 90 yards.

That China-man 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'm going to chuck one high.

Go far.

There. There?

My b*llet. Your b*llet?

If you hit what you aim at, explain my shoulder.

Gentlemen, sh**ting cornbread out here on the prairie is getting us no closer to the Ned Pepper g*ng.

One more. This will prove it.

Please hold fire.

Find our way back.

Where you've been to...

Lucky Ned?

Lucky Ned!

Very good, Cogburn.

Now what?

Oh, God damn it.

Cogburn does not want me eating out of his store.

I am assuming you have not eaten all day. And it is my store, not his.

Let him starve.

He did not track.

He did not sh**t.

Except at food stuffs.

That was your initiative.

He did not contribute.

He's a man who walks in front of b*ll*ts.

Mr. LaBoeuf drew single-handed upon the Lucky Ned Pepper g*ng while we fired safely from cover.

We? It is unfair to indict a man when his jaw is swollen, and tongue m*nled and who is therefore unable to rise to his own defense.

I can speak for myself.

I am hardly obliged to answer the ravings of a drunkard, and it is beneath me.

I shall make my own camp elsewhere.

It is you who has nothing to offer, Cogburn.

A sad picture indeed.

This is no longer a man hunt.

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 sh*t.

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... I'm a foolish old man who's been drawn into a wild goose chase by a harpy in trousers, and a nincompoop.

Ah, Mr. LaBoeuf.

He can wander the Choctaw Nation for as long as he likes.

Perhaps the local Indians will take him in.

Honor his gibbering by making him chief.

You, sister, may go where you like.

Our engagement is terminated.

I bow out.

I'm going with you.

No, that is not possible.

Have I held you back?

I have a Colt 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 now.

You've been an regular old hand on the trail.

But Cogburn's right, even if I will 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.

Adios.

I know you.

Your name is Mattie.

You're little Mattie, the bookkeeper.

Isn't that something.

Yes, and I know you, Tom Chaney.

What are you doing out here?

Come to fetch some water.

No, what are you doing in these mountains here?

Well, I've not been formerly deputized, 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's a posse of officers up there who will force you to go.

That is interesting news.

And how many is up there?

Right around fifty.

They're all well armed and they mean business.

What I want you to do now is to come on across the creek and walk in front of me up that hill.

I think I'll oblige the officers to come after me.

Well if you refuse to go, I will have to sh**t you.

Oh.

Well you'd better cock your piece.

All the way back.

'Til it locks. I know how to do it.

Will you not go with me?

No, it's just the other way around.

You're going with me.

I'm... Ah!

I did not think you would do it.

What do you think now? One of my short ribs is broken.

You k*lled 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.

Things aren't going right for me... Mattie!

I'm down here. Now I'm sh*t by a child.

Chaney is taken into custody.

Help me!

Mattie!

Marshal.

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.

Rooster.

Cogburn!

You hear me?

You answer me, Rooster.

I will k*ll 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 k*ll her?

Do what you think is best, Ned.

She's nothing to me but a lost child.

Think it over first.

I have already thought it over.

You'll get mounted double fast.

If I see you riding over that bald ridge to the northwest, 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.

Run up that hill.

Farrell, see to Tom's wounds.

Can I have some of that bacon?

You help yourself.

Have some of the coffee.

I do not drink coffee. I am fourteen.

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 there sh*t my father to death at Fort Smith and robbed him of two gold pieces and stole his mare.

I was informed Mr. Cogburn had grit and I hired him to find the m*rder*r.

A few minutes ago I came upon Chaney watering the horses.

He would not be taken in charge and I sh*t him.

If I had k*lled him, I would not now be in this fix, but my revolver misfired.

They will do it.

It'll embarrass you every time.

Most girls like to play pretties, but you like g*ns, do ya?

I do not care a thing in the world about g*ns.

If I did, I would have one that worked.

I was sh*t in an ambush, Ned.

The horses was blowing, making noise. It was that officer that got me.

How can you sit there and tell such a big story?

That pit is a hundred feet deep, and I will throw you in it.

I will leave you to scream and rot.

Now how do you like that? No you won't.

This man will not let you have your way.

He's your boss and you have to do as he tells you.

Ain't nothing going my way.

Was that Rooster that 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're 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 Hays?

The old fellow sh*t 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 grey. I have other plans for you.

Must I double mount with the doctor?

Move. No.

Too chancey 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 Farrell back with a fresh mount.

You will be out by dark.

We'll meet you at the old place.

I do not like that.

Let me ride with you, Ned. Just out of here, anyway.

No. We are short a horse.

The 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 k*ll me.

You heard him say it. He's k*lled my father, and now you will let him k*ll me.

He will do no such thing.

Tom, you know the crossing at Cypress Forks, near the log meeting house.

When you're mounted, you take the girl and leave her there.

You understand, Tom?

Any harm comes to that child, you'll not get paid.

Harold, let me ride up with you.

Harold, I will pay you $50 out of my winnings.

I am not heavy.

Do the calf again, Harold.

Everything is against me.

You have no reason to whine.

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. I'm sure to be caught when I leave on foot.

Must think over my position and how I may improve it.

Where's the second California gold piece?

What have you done with Papa's mare?

Keep still.

Are you thinking about the old place?

Look here, if you let me go, I will swear to an affidavit, and once you are brought to justice, it may go easier on you.

I tell you, I can do better.

I don't need your affidavit.

All I need is your silence.

Your father was a busybody like you.

In honesty, I do not regret sh**ting him.

He thought Tom Chaney was small.

And you...

You would give me an affidavit...

You're all against me, everybody...

That is Chelmsford.

Strange to be so close to him at last.

Mr. LaBoeuf, how is it that you are here?

I heard a sh*t.

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.

Hello, Rooster!

Will you give us the road?

One against four is ill-advised.

He would not be dissuaded.

Hello, Ned. 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.

Have no interest in you today.

What is your intention, Rooster?

You think one on four is a dogfall?

I mean to k*ll you in one minute, Ned.

Or see you hanged at Fort Smith at Judge Parker's convenience.

Which will you have?

I call that bold talk from a one-eyed fat man.

Fill your hand, you son of a bitch.

sh**t them, Mr. LaBoeuf.

Too far, moving too fast.

Well, Rooster, I'm sh*t to pieces.

Seems neither of us gets to see Judge Parker.

Oh, Lord.

Wahoo!

Some bully sh*t.

That was 400 yards, at least.

Well, the Sharps carbine is a...

Stand up, Tom Chaney.

M... Mr. LaBoeuf.

Are you alive?

Mr. LaBoeuf!

Mr. LaBoeuf.

Mr. LaBoeuf.

Are you there?

I'm here.

Can you clamber out?

I cannot.

There are snakes.

They awake?

Yes.

I'm bit.

Does Mr. LaBoeuf survive?

He does. Even a blow to the head could silence him for only a few short minutes.

Where are you bit?

Look away, Mattie.

I have her.

Up with us.

Here Mr. LaBoeuf, take her.

She's snake bit.

We're off.

I'll send help for you soon as I can.

Don't wander off.

We are not leaving him.

We must get you to a doc, sis, or you're not going to make it.

I'm in your debt for that sh*t, pard.

Never doubt the Texas Ranger.

Come on.

Ever stalwart.

We must stop.

Little Blackie is played out.

We have miles yet.

Come on, you.

No!

That's it, come on now.

No, stop.

He's getting away.

Who's getting away, sis?

Chaney.

No... No!

No, no, no.

Oh, no.

No, stop.

I'm growing 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, 'til I was out of danger.

But he departed before I came around.

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 traveling 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.

Yes'm?

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 at Jonesboro, Arkansas.

Buried him there in a 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 had 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 seventies now.

And nearer eighty than seventy.

I expect some of the starch has gone out of that cowlick.

Time just gets away from us.

What a fellowship, what a joy divine, Leaning on the everlasting arms.

What a blessedness, what a peace is mine, Leaning on the everlasting arms.

Leaning, leaning, Safe and secure from all alarms.

Leaning, leaning, Leaning on the everlasting arms.

Oh, how sweet to walk in this pilgrim way, Leaning on the everlasting arms Oh, how bright the path grows from day to day, Leaning on the everlasting arms.

Leaning, leaning, Safe and secure from all alarms.

Leaning, leaning, I'm leaning on the everlasting arms.