Dead $oul$ (2025)

[bunniefuu]

Oh!

Hello!

What can I do you for?

If it's grub you're after,

sorry, no food here today.

But over there at the Owl Club,

they'll feed you.

Three meals a day, 50 cents.

Is it a room you're looking for?

All right. It's two dollars

a night.

Or if you want to stay the week,

it's 12, paid in advance.

Sundays is free.

I like the sound of that.

I'll put you down for the week.

Make your mark

in the book there.

Hm.

What's that say there?

Strindler.

My name is Strindler.

Oh, all right, Strindler.

I'll show you the room.

Right this way.

It's pretty good,

it's got a window.

I think you'll like it.

Is there a bed?

There's a bed.

Darn it, Borracho,

get off my porch.

I don't care! Get a job!

Who the hell

do you think you are?

More cabbage soup?

No.

Brains with peas.

Got a question.

Ask away.

Who's the big cheese

around here?

Do you like some cheese?

No.

No, I asked you

who the big cheese is.

The jefe.

Ah, Oso y Chandler.

Who's Oso?

Runs the mine.

And Chandler?

Uh, he owns the big ranch

outside town.

Hm. Come here much?

Oso does.

Most days he plays cards

with the sheriff and mayor.

You still want that cheese?

Mm-mm.

How about some more brains?

No, thank you,

I have enough already.

Vale.

Not again.

May I join you?

This is draw poker.

Three-card draw

if you don't want to show,

four if you've an ace.

But if you got the ace, you have

to share it with the players.

Sure.

Got that right.

We don't like no snakes

in the weeds at this table.

Well,

I'm of the same mind, sir.

Hm.

Ante.

Ain't no card

helping this hand...

No. I'm out.

Me too.

Beginner's luck.

Breeding cattle dogs.

They say they mix 'em

with English Collies

and Australian dingoes.

Oh, that must make

a very impressive breed.

Your deal.

Ante up.

Ah, thank you, sir.

Oh, excuse me.

You, uh, played this game

before, mister?

Well, um...

Not lately.

Ante.

Open-pit system

versus the old-fashioned

style of mining.

I imagine that leads

to excellent mineral extraction.

None for me.

I'm out.

Gentlemen.

Nice playing with you, mister.

I didn't catch your handle.

Oh, my name is Strindler.

I'm Avery Senator,

mayor of this city.

This here is Sheriff Purdy.

And Mr. Oso.

So, uh, what line of work

you in, Mr. Strindler?

I'm in, uh,

government work, sir.

Is that right?

Staying long?

Just about a week.

Well, that's just dandy.

Why don't you stop by my office

on the morrow, Mr. Strindler?

Our city's wide open

for government work,

contracts of any kind.

I shall see you tomorrow, sir.

Fella talks funny.

He walks funny.

Dresses funny.

496, 497, 498.

499, 500.

501, 502, 503.

504, 505, 506.

The town hall, sir?

The town hall, sir?

Uh, it's down there.

Get the f*ck... it's down there.

Thank you.

Ow!

Hey!

Hey! Hey, stranger!

You in need of a coffin?

City Hall?

Thataway.

Who are you laughin' at?

Uh, a pleasure,

a real pleasure, Mr...

Strindler.

Strindler,

of course.

Quite right.

Uh, pull up a chair.

Enjoyed our game last night.

Um...

Grab a glass.

How about a sharpener?

Ah, thank you, sir.

How did your take our sheriff?

He's an educated man, you know.

Were you to visit his house,

the quantity of books he has

would strike you.

Unusual for a peace officer.

Yes, speaks well of him.

I asked because you mentioned

you're a government man.

There was that little business

here a couple of months back.

That's not what brought you

here, I hope.

No.

Excellent.

Excellent!

The sheriff was

entirely justified,

and it was only Mexicans,

but things get blown

out of proportion, and...

And the Zamora brothers are

well known as troublemakers.

-To progress.

-Oh, to progress, sir.

Mm.

Ah.

Is it the railroad, then?

Railroad?

That's what I guessed

you were about.

It bypassed us, you see,

but not by far.

If we could persuade

the company to, uh,

reroute the line,

or to create a spur...

Mr. Mayor,

you mentioned Mexicans.

Are there many?

Mexicans? Why, yes.

See, we're so close

to the border, and shorthanded.

Terrible shorthanded,

as far as workers go.

White men are few

and far between.

So you hire many.

Personally, no,

I've none in my employ.

White men are few, as I observe,

but you can bet

I go out of my way

to hire 'em for all city work.

Oh, yes, indeed!

So, uh, who does employ

these Mexicans?

The mines,

mostly.

And Chandler's ranch.

Now, pertaining

to the railroad...

I see you have The Whale

by Mr. Melville.

This is a splendid

and prophetic book.

The fish wins.

Aye, 'tis a favorite of mine.

Beside it is a copy

of With Walker in Nicaragua

by Ephraim Squier.

A signed, first edition,

published the same year.

Impressive.

And to think that

all this happened only,

what, 40 years ago?

By God, I wish

I'd gone with them.

They all died,

of course.

The man

who fears death is not alive.

Let's cut to the quick,

Strindler.

Are you here

about that Mexican business?

What Mexican business, sir?

Involving

the Zamora brothers.

I heard one of their sisters

went up Tucson way

looking for

a federal prosecutor.

No, no, no, no, no,

I'm not here about that,

although Mexicans

do interest me.

How so?

Well, as you know,

I work for our government.

Have you a list

of Mexicans who died?

Those who were shot or hanged?

Well, there was

that Zamora brother.

He's dead, but I don't

keep a count.

- Who might?

- Our doctor tends to 'em.

He probably keeps a list.

I'd like to meet

your doctor, sir.

The corral.

They'll rent you a horse.

I'm an excellent rider,

you know.

That's what I hear.

Try this on.

Hey, mount her

from the left there, partner.

- From the left, you say?

- From the left.

From the left, yes,

mounting from the left.

They get a little skittish

otherwise.

Oh! Oh.

You have done this before, yeah?

Well... not lately.

Hm.

I got another possibility.

A wagon might be a better bet.

A wagon?

So... where do you want to go?

To the doctor's.

Is it far?

Not far.

Not near, neither.

Someone tells you

they lives 15 miles away,

it's more like 30.

Hm. And what's

your doctor's name?

Hell! I don't know.

Everyone calls him Doc.

And your name, sir?

My name

is Hedley Presner Felman

the Third.

Folks 'round here

call me Borracho.

-Borracho?

-Mm-hm.

It's Mexican for "intelligent."

I am Strindler, ma'am.

So, Doctor, of what

do your patients die?

Yes, well, my patients die

from many causes.

There's old age,

exhaustion, epidemic.

We have deadly fever, smallpox,

um, tuberculosis.

Uh, we have many seasonal

reasons for death here.

There's snake bites,

buggy accidents.

Syphilis!

Why do you ask?

Oh, just curiosity.

How did our mayor strike you,

Mr. Strindler?

Oh, he seems

a very worthy man, ma'am.

Oh, please call me Rebecca.

And our sheriff?

Why, he seems intelligent

and well-read.

Mm, yes.

Oh, well, I wish we had

more books in the house, but...

Well, my husband does...

He does not approve of them.

But, uh, did you meet his wife?

No, I did not.

But I imagine that she, too,

is intelligent and well-read.

Rebecca, offer this gentleman

a libation.

Oh, would you care

for a temperance drink?

Yes, you will enjoy this.

It was formulated

by a Georgian pharmacist.

It's a mixture

of the coca leaf from Peru

and the cola nut

from West Africa.

Effervescent.

Sparks the energy.

Better than tea.

Our boys thrive on this.

-There you go.

-Enchant.

Oh, what precious children

you have!

Themistocles is 11,

and Alcides is also 11.

Themistocles, what is

the capital of France?

Paris.

Alcides,

the capital of Germany?

Paris.

Such clever children.

-Boys.

-Boys!

I'm sure they will go far.

Thank you for saying that.

Themistocles especially has

a very sharp mind.

Small bugs, insects,

all of that fascinates him.

Excuse me, gentlemen.

Themistocles, come back here.

So, uh, offer you a pipe?

Uh, no, no, no.

No thank you, uh, sir.

I don't, uh, I don't smoke.

Well, why not?

I never

was inclined.

Well, you should.

It's, uh, good for you.

Cleanses the lungs.

Better than that snuff.

Hmm, yes.

Well...

Doctor...

About these Mexicans...

Yes, the Mexicans.

Well, they live

in appalling conditions.

Entirely without morals.

Prone to every disease

imaginable.

That's why so many of 'em die.

Well, that's what

interests me, sir.

I represent a funeral company.

We sell coffins and headstones,

largely to the Hispanic market.

Mm, growth industry.

Yes, it is, sir.

If you could provide me with

a list of deceased Mexicans,

including their birth dates

and places of residence,

I'd be much obliged.

Well, I don't know how

that would be any use to you.

You'd need a list

of the live ones.

Ah, yeah, well, you see,

my colleague,

he deals with that.

Oh, I see. Well...

Um, I suppose

I could ask around.

I'll give you two bits apiece.

-A dollar.

-Fifty cents.

Deal.

When do you need the list by?

Immediately.

Boys, ha-ha, when next we meet,

I'll bring you both a p*stol

and a drum.

Let's go, Borracho.

Ya! Ya! Ya!

Whoa!

Do those look like the remains

of a... of a Mexican to you?

Him look more

like a Chinaman to me.

No use to me.

You might be interested

in the Widow.

She hires lots of Mexicans.

There's a widow?

What I just said.

Down the road apiece.

And your name is what?

I guess you must be

a tax collector.

No, no, no, I am

no tax collector, ma'am.

My name is Strindler,

and I'm traveling on business.

Ah! So you're a buyer.

I'm sorry to say

I sold the last of the honey.

I may have some hemp left.

A few pounds.

I'm interested in commodities

of a different kind, ma'am.

Your Mexicans been dying on you?

I can't barely keep them alive.

Eighteen died on me

just this year.

Good workers, too.

Last week, my blacksmith

went and burned up.

A fire? Oh, dear me.

I didn't say we had a fire.

God spared us that misfortune.

Gonzales burned himself up

on his own.

Too much to drink.

A blue flame came up out of him,

and he turned to charcoal.

Best farrier I ever had.

Now, are you sure

you don't need any hemp?

Yes, yes, yes,

I am entirely sure

that I do not need any hemp.

However, I wonder

if you know the names

of those 18 Mexicans

of yours who died.

-Of course I do. Why?

-I'll take 'em off your hands.

How can you do that?

They're dead.

If you'll give me a list

of all 18,

their names, ages, home towns,

I'll give you money for them.

Do you intend to dig them up?

No, no, no, no,

all I need is their names.

What for?

Well, ma'am, that's my business.

But they're dead.

I will give you 10 dollars

for all 18.

Well, Mr. Strangler,

we have a deal.

So, where

we headed now, Oso's mine?

What makes you think that?

I don't know.

We been just about

everywhere else.

I just figured

it was next on the list.

But for what?

Sir, I have a contract

with the Mexican government.

I am tasked to make this list

of their nationals

who pass away abroad.

The government will share

this list with their families,

who are naturally concerned.

Bullshit.

Mexican government don't give

a damn about these people,

and neither do you.

Give you 50 cents a head.

Ten dollars.

Oh, you can't be serious, sir.

Why not?

See, I got something you want,

and, uh, well,

you're not being upfront

about why you want it.

You could be a criminal,

for all I know.

What if you're one of them

grave robbers?

I'm no body snatcher, sir.

All I need are names.

That's all you'll get.

Most of my Mexicans die

when the mines cave in.

Still buried

a mile below ground.

Good luck getting them out.

What do you make of our mayor?

-He seems like a worthy man.

-He's a bandit.

What about our sheriff?

He appears educated, honest.

No, he's ten times worse.

Stick around

and you'll find out.

The only honest man

in these parts

is the federal prosecutor

from Tucson,

and he is a f*ck' swine.

Hm.

You, uh, met

our rancher yet? Chandler?

No, no, I haven't had

that privilege.

Biggest miser

you never wish to meet.

Richest man in the territory

and he eats worse

than his peones.

He hires Mexicans?

Hundreds.

The convicts in Purdy's jail

live better than they do.

He starves 'em,

and they die like flies.

Is his ranch far?

About ten miles down the road.

Five dollars a head,

and that's my final offer.

Oh, be serious, sir.

These are dead men's names.

Damn good

dead men, too.

Expert miners.

Villareal, he was

a top-notch pit boss.

Sandoval ran the mines

in Cananea.

And Puente...

Puente was the best damn

cap-man I ever saw.

I'll give you 75 cents.

Dollar apiece.

Agreed.

-Can you make a list?

-Already done.

Heard what you was up to

and tallied 'em last night.

-Sixty names.

-Hm.

Twenty.

Forty.

Sixty.

I'll get the list.

Go ahead. Take a couple sticks.

I like you.

So, did you make

good trade, boss?

Mr. Oso drives

a hard bargain.

Hmph.

Is Chandler's ranch very far?

It's 'bout ten miles or so,

I reckon.

Hm.

Slow down here,

slow down, would you?

There's a wagon coming. See?

I knows my business.

Heh, look at you!

You're down in the ditch now.

What you galloping

at such a clip for?

You drunk or what?

-Quick as you can!

-I know what I'm doin'.

Can't you see we're in a hurry?

Good afternoon, ma'am.

So sorry

about this inconvenience.

It matters not a whit.

The Lord works

in mysterious ways.

Oh, he most certainly does.

Hey! You!

Give us a hand here.

Son of a b*tch.

My name is Strindler, ma'am.

Rose. Rose Chandler.

Very pleased to...

Give 'em a touch of the whip!

Hi-yah!

Why were you so rude

to that man?

He wasn't to blame.

Got 'em movin', boss!

They calls that one The Kid.

He rides

for Chandler's brand, hm.

You best stay clear of him.

Why?

Well, he was on Purdy's posse.

Now, that little shitbird

k*lled Segundo Zamora.

Shot him right between the eyes.

Huh.

And who's the young lady?

Oh.

Rose is her name.

That there is

Chandler's daughter.

You don't say.

Ain't gonna make

no headway there.

Who is that man?

That there be Valdez.

He be the foreman of the ranch.

Yo, Valdez.

Gracias, tonto.

De nada, jerkoff.

Him says,

"Chandler ain't at the ranch."

He's gone into town.

There's gonna be a chautauqua

tonight, I reckon.

What's a chautauqua?

Ah, you'll find out.

"The west yet glimmers

with some streaks of day.

Now spurs

the lated traveler apace

to gain the timely inn."

Hamlet ?

That be Macbeth, sir.

Well, lead on, Macduff!

"And when at night,

our good day done,

I guard my master's head.

'Tis better than

the eider duck's deep pillow

to have shared.

To foe of his, I'm deadly foe.

None stir the second time

on whom I lay a yellow eye

or an emphatic thumb.

Though I than he

may longer live,

He longer must, than I.

For I have the power to k*ll

without the power to die"

A beautiful reading

by Sheriff Purdy,

who is standing for reelection,

as I'm sure you know!

But what was the name

of that poem, Sheriff?

Ah! "My Life Had Stood

a Loaded g*n,"

by the late

Miss Emily Dickinson.

Ah!

Next on our agenda of auditory

and intellectual delight,

Miss Rose Chandler will

be entertaining us with a hymn.

What is the hymn called,

Miss Rose?

Mr. Mayor,

the name of the hymn is

"Gladly My Little Cross

I'd Bear."

That's him.

He's been going

around buying up dead Mexicans.

I sold him 18 for $10.

But I hear he's paying

a lot more.

Pull up a chair!

You know our sheriff?

-Of course, yes, yes.

-This here's Colonel Chandler.

I am Strindler, sir.

What's he want Mexes for?

Who cares?

All I know is, he shorted me,

and him a millionaire.

Sensitive and exquisitely

interpreted, mademoiselle!

Thank you.

And now,

Mr. Crocker will enthrall us all

with his popular rendition of...

Uh...

"The Night on Bare Mountain."

Applause for Mr. Crocker!

Diogenes. Now, that

was a philosopher.

Right, Strindler?

Diogenes! Yes, indeed, Sheriff.

Well! If it ain't

the millionaire.

I hear you're buying Mexicans.

Regarding Diogenes,

you know, by, uh...

In his day, he walked through

the streets in daylight

carrying a lamp, you know why?

He was looking

for one honest man.

What did he want the lamp for,

if it was daylight?

Hey, Pops! I'm talkin' to you.

What you gonna do with all them

dead corpses you been buyin' up?

If you'll excuse me,

I'll be with you shortly.

Who you calling "Shorty"?

If it's dead Mexicans

you're buyin',

I sure can sell you a few!

-That's enough, Kid!

-No, it ain't!

C'mon, Pops.

Gimme a kiss!

Fill your hand,

you son of a b*tch!

I beg your pardon?

I said, make your play!

I-I... But what...

He means he wants you

to sh**t it out with him!

But I'm unarmed!

Well then, heel yourself,

you damn cobarde.

And I'll see you on that street.

Tomorrow, 10 a.m.

Get out of my way.

Tequila, please.

Mezcal, then.

Y Zamora?

Join you?

It's solitaire.

I didn't tell you to sit down.

Sit down.

Looks like you have a job

you want done.

I heard about you.

You're the gringo who goes

around making lists of people.

Sounds like you got in trouble

with The Kid.

The Kid m*rder*d my brother.

My condolences.

You want to talk?

Hands up!

So, Strindler. You have done

this before, right?

Well, not, not lately, no.

Well, what it is,

you two will stand back to back.

You take your ten paces.

And on the tenth step, you stop,

turn, draw your weapon,

and fire.

Now, I beg your pardon, sir.

There's a railroad spur

about ten miles up the road.

I could run you up there.

Look, Mr. Borracho's

got a point.

You might want to hedge

your bets.

No, no. But, gentlemen,

I appreciate your concern.

But my work here

is not yet done.

Why are you both looking out

of the window like that?

Gentlemen.

Let's go over the rules.

Back to back, ten paces,

I count 'em.

I get to ten, you turn and fire,

understood?

Yes.

Let's get to it.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

I knew it, you b*stard!

Nine.

Ten.

And so it seems that after

Mr. Strindler shot The Kid

in self-defense,

in a fair duel

initiated by The Kid,

the latter's g*n went off

in his expiring hand,

and the stray b*llet

accidentally k*lled our sheriff.

Any objections?

Mr. Strindler is exonerated.

Let's go get a drink.

Yeah!

Come on, brother,

let's go get one.

-Here's to the sheriff's health.

-Pardon?

Here's

to the sheriff's health!

Oh, yeah, yeah.

Cheers! To the sheriff.

I'm taking up a collection

for his wife.

The poor woman

is all alone in the world.

Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, sir.

But unfortunately, my resources

are a little depleted.

-Could I get another one, too?

-Of course.

Still planning on staying long?

Oh, couple days,

couple days. Why?

Oh, no reason.

I hear we can expect a visit

from our federal prosecutor.

Really?

Perhaps you'll have

the opportunity to meet.

Maybe we will, sir.

Do you know what?

I think I've misplaced my snuff.

Would you excuse me?

I'll have another.

Hey, look here, old boy.

Give me a hand

with this skinflint, will you?

I'm running real low on funds.

I know you know how that is.

Mister, uh...

Oh. Strindler, sir!

The-the Reverend Strindler!

Won't you be seated?

Uh, thank you.

I rarely

entertain guests, Reverend.

Oh, I understand, sir, your--

your ranch must--

must keep you very busy.

To be frank,

I see no point in it.

People who drop by

neglect their own business

and expect me

to give their horses hay.

Oh, well,

there'll be no need for that.

That's good,

because there ain't any.

My Mexicans are a lazy crew,

half drunk most of the time

and useless for work.

Oh!

And yet, you employ hundreds.

-Oh, not nearly that many.

Half of 'em have run off

or died of the fever.

Well, sir,

that is why I am here.

I represent a religious charity

honoring those poor,

devout Mexican field workers

who pass away

for the good

of their immortal souls.

Total rubbish.

What is wrong with you, man?

Oh, I-I don't quite understand.

You have a portrait of

our Lord here upon on your wall.

My daughter

put the damn thing up there.

Or my departed wife.

I do not recall.

Superstitious nonsense!

I do not hold with it.

Oh, and how is

your daughter, sir?

She refuses to see anyone.

It seems she was sweet

on that young idiot

who got his head shot off.

You k*lled him, didn't you?

-Care for a little snuff?

-I never touch the filthy stuff.

Quite right, too, sir!

Regarding The Kid, I feel

that his demise was inevitable.

These are violent times,

and righteous persons

like ourselves...

I do not hold

with righteousness, neither.

It is just a veil

for hypocrisy and bullshit.

How many dead Mexicans you got?

Approximately 80, why?

Give you 75 cents apiece

for their names and birthplaces.

- 75 cents, seriously?

- Yes.

Oh, well, in that case...

I may have as many as 120.

That's fine, sir.

My offer still stands.

I must consult with my foreman.

Valdez! Valdez!

Valdez, donde esta?

Sir, we have a deal.

A done deal, sir!

Valdez! Donde esta?

S, jefe. Que paso?

-S, jefe.

-Rpido! ndale!

S, jefe.

We must celebrate with a drink!

I would offer you dinner,

but we have no food here.

It's quite all right, sir,

the list will be sufficient.

Nonsense! Nonsense!

We really must have a drink.

My wife made this

some 17 years ago.

Over time, it collected some

bugs and sh*t in there, but...

I scooped all that out,

and it is very clean now.

Very clean.

Cheers, Mr. Strindler.

Cheers, Colonel!

You don't look so good.

I don't feel so good.

Who is that man?

I have no idea.

He claims to be a preacher.

-And yet, he k*lled The Kid.

-Good thing, too.

The Kid was a braggart

and a lousy hand.

At least he's a decent shot,

more than you can say

for most God-botherers.

You didn't give him

any of that stuff,

did you?

Why not?

It was good when your mother

made it 17 years ago,

it's still good today.

Get away!

So.

You do good business in there?

-Care for a shot?

-Yeah.

All right.

Borracho.

Tomorrow, you must take me

to the railroad station.

Sure. Then you done with me?

Not at all, good Borracho.

After you leave me there,

I want you to go directly

to El Paso, Texas.

Get there in two days' time.

You know where that is?

Happens I do. But-but why?

Why don't we go together?

That is none of your concern.

Stop the wagon, please!

We ain't movin', boss.

God.

All right, day after tomorrow.

El Paso, Texas,

behind the Customs House.

Agreed?

Whatever, general.

Haw!

Leaving town, amigo?

Not quite yet.

Come have a drink with me.

Before you go,

we need to reach

an understanding.

What's the matter?

Don't you like music?

No.

Shh!

I've been thinking.

Seems to me the money

you gave me was a down payment.

A prelude to our partnership.

You bought a lot

of dead souls here.

My people's souls.

You paid a tidy sum.

So, there's money to be made.

You're leaving town tomorrow,

and the road is dangerous.

We'll go together.

I figured you're going

to where our money is.

So, we both go.

Share it.

Fifty-fifty.

Like amigos.

Or I k*ll you.

Good morning.

That's what he did.

Made a fool of himself

and the...

Officer Behan will be with you

in just a moment, Minister.

Well, thank you, my child.

Ah.

Hoo.

Sorry to keep you

waiting, Reverend.

-It's quite all right, sir.

-Government work, you know.

Please, have a seat.

Now how may I assist?

Well, I, uh,

I sent you a letter.

Oh, but you most certainly did.

Gracias.

"Dear Officer Behan,

I have the honor

of contacting you

at the request of members

of my church,

the Fraternal Fellowship

of Universal Brotherhood.

My fellowship dedicates itself

to reforming former Catholics

and inducing them

to right their wrongs.

At my intervention,

many Mexicans,

illegally present

in the Arizona Territory...

have returned to their homes.

I look forward to meeting you

and presenting a written record

of these Mexicans,

whom I have persuaded

to depart the state,

in the pursuit of our

government's worthy goals.

Sincerely,

the Reverend Strindler."

Above a picture

of a mestizo child,

a little motto:

"Gladly My Little Cross

I'd Bear."

Hm.

Well, congratulations, Reverend.

Good work.

Sir.

I have here a list

of 750 Mexicans,

including their birth places

and birth dates,

whom I have brought to Jesus

and returned home.

Ah!

Well! Commendable.

But I am the, uh,

Chinese exclusionary officer.

So I don't deal in Mexicans.

How much do they pay you

per Chinaman?

$10.15.

And that's for tracking them

down and deporting them.

You see, uh,

the problem with Mexicans,

as I'm sure you're aware,

is that they aren't counted

on the Census.

This makes them very difficult

to exclude.

But in many ways, they're worse

than the Chinese.

They have the tendency

to intermarry.

Mm.

This increases the number

of half breeds,

adding to the disorder.

Why not make an exception

in this case?

Hm.

How much do you want

for the whole list?

$7,000.

I'll give you five thousand.

-Cash?

-Mm.

Will have to be sent

via wire transfer.

That's how government work

is done, you see.

Union Bank, Lamy, New Mexico.

Okay. This'll take

a few days, Reverend.

Oh, I have total confidence

in you, sir.

Well...

I see you're admiring

my machine!

I ride that thing back and forth

across the border

escorting prisoners.

Saving our government

substantial crossing fees.

Costs a dollar or a gold peso

to cross on a horse.

The bicycle goes gratis!

Thank you, sir,

for your service.

Happy trails!

Strindler!

No, what? Agh!

What?

What is the...

what is the meaning

of this outrage?

You let me out now!

I am the Reverend Strindler!

Hm. Go on.

- All right.

- All right, all right.

-Swindler.

-Hm?

- Swindler!

- Huh?

My name is not Swindler,

it's Strindler.

Be silent.

I'm Samuel S. Vistov,

federal prosecutor from Tucson.

You're in big trouble.

No, I'm not.

I am a man of God

and a successful businessman.

Don't give me any

of your bullshit, Swindler.

I know

you're a confidence man...

wanted in Arizona Territory...

for desecrating a cemetery,

dynamiting a cantina,

and forging a widow's will.

What the devil do you mean?

I-I never forged a widow's will.

Why, sure you did.

I mean to extradite you,

put you on trial,

get a conviction,

and send you off

to the federal prison in Yuma.

Unless...

Unless what?

Well, you see,

my deputies,

they went through

your pockets and bags.

They didn't find a thing.

Now, I know you're down

to your last couple bucks.

Yet back there in the Territory,

you were spending money

like it was, uh,

going out of style.

Also...

You were engaged

in that bunco scheme

involving dead Mexicans.

-Am I right?

-No, no, no.

I can explain that.

You see I work

for the U.S. Census,

and I've been compiling a list

of deceased farm workers.

-I just...

-Oh, horsefeathers!

I don't know what your angle is,

but I sense there's, uh,

money in it.

And I'm prepared to make a deal.

What kind of deal?

Well, you've got

dollars stashed someplace.

Cut me in.

95%.

And I'll let you walk free.

95%?

Sure.

That widow who made those false

statements against you,

I'll have her arrested

and thrown in jail.

And all those other complaints

against you,

I'll just have them dismissed.

And those Mexicans

whom you m*rder*d,

and whose graves you defiled,

well, they can just

swing in the wind.

You can do all this?

I'm a federal prosecutor,

Swindler.

You're just a silly old man,

unsuited for our modern times.

But because I'm kind...

I won't hold this against you.

I'll be back here,

one hour, Swindler.

That's one hour, Swindler.

We'll go dig up that money.

Yeah.

We could even part as friends.

-Reverend Strindler!

-What? What? What?

Agh!

Oh.

Miss Chandler!

I must speak with you,

most urgently.

Reverend, you stand accused

of dreadful deeds.

Yeah, but I can explain.

Five days ago,

you fought a wicked duel

with a young man

whom I esteemed.

He died as a result,

k*lling our sheriff

in the process.

Ah, yeah, but that's, you see...

The next day, it is said

that you defiled a cemetery,

m*rder*d several Mexicans,

and forged a widow's will.

What? No, I did not forge

a widow's will!

Reverend.

I did not journey

all this distance

simply to dispute with you.

You are accused

of heinous crimes.

And yet, based on

our brief acquaintance,

I believe that there is good

in you.

I've come to hear your story.

Oh.

Benefactress!

I am being

most serious, Reverend.

If I am to assist you,

you must tell the truth.

Who are you?

Why have you done these things?

Oh, Ma'am, I was tempted

by Satan, the Deceiver,

but I swear to you,

I know nothing

of Derringers,

pistols, murderings.

Speak

the truth, Strindler!

What has brought you

to this sorry pass?

You genuinely care to hear?

Yes, I do.

Now, calm yourself,

reflect on how to make peace

with God,

and give some thought

to your poor soul.

Very well, benefactress.

You alone shall hear

Strindler's tale.

As a lad...

I resembled neither

my mother nor my father.

From the beginning,

life gazed on me in a dour

and unwelcoming way.

There was no friend,

no playmate for my childhood.

My father taught me

the eternal maxims.

Not to be caught in a lie.

To show obedience

to my elders.

And to nurture the appearance

of virtue.

At parting, no tear fell

from paternal eyes.

See that you do

your lessons, Strindler.

Don't be naughty,

and stay out of mischief.

And above all, try to please

your teachers and superiors.

I will, Papa.

Shut up and listen!

Don't get too close

to your schoolmates.

Only make friends with those

who are better off.

They can be of use to you.

And above all,

never spend a red cent!

Your friends will betray you,

but money never will.

Yes, Papa.

Silence!

You can do anything,

overcome anything

in this world with money, lad.

Oh, Papa, may I not stay

with you, Mama,

and Uncle Sancho?

Sinful, stupid Strindler!

Wicked boy!

Begone!

Hiya!

Who's here?

Oh!

Hello?

Take a seat.

I didn't tell you to sit down.

She's only kidding.

Sit down, Strindler.

We are engaged in

a highly sensitive project.

Tallying the totals of the dead.

You have some expertise here,

do you not?

Well, yes, I do,

to a certain extent.

-Mm.

Lists of deceased serfs

in Kievan Rus'

delivered to

the Peerage Ministry.

1890, a record of dead Mexicans

in the Arizona Territory

prepared for

the exclusion officer in Texas.

1929, Nicaraguan insurgents

k*lled by the Marine Corps,

comprehensive tally.

1945, Strindler's list.

Impressive.

Well, thank you.

I do my best.

Our country needs

an accurate estimate

of enemy losses

in the three wars

that we're currently fighting.

How many Russians

have we k*lled today?

How many Chinese?

How many Peruvians?

And how did they die?

Via ordnance?

Partisan activities?

Or bioweapons tailored

to their genetic provenance?

You want this to be

an accurate list?

Of course.

Accurate figures depicting

best practice on our part.

How we're k*lling

many more of the enemy

than we originally estimated.

Backed up by solid data,

naturally.

We envision this

as an AI-centric project.

So, you'll have

all the necessary support

you will need to come

to the necessary conclusions.

What's the pay?

$10.15

for every Russian.

$10.06 for a Chinaman.

And for Peruvians,

we'll throw in .000512 bitcoin.

You'll have to set up

a hardware wallet, of course.

- I'll need to think about this.

- Don't think too long.

-But I...

-Don't.

I'll need to think about this.

Well, I'll need to...

I'll...

Huh?

Borracho!

Well, I told you to meet me

behind the Customs House!

This here is the Customs House.

It is?

Yeah. It also be the town jail.

Oh. Oh.

How the f*ck

did you get out of there?

Well, it's a long story,

my friend.

Well, get your skinny a*s

up here on the buckboard.

Shall we?

So, which ways

we goin' now, Captain?

North, then west.

Why, here comes Johnny Behan.

Well, uh, uh, good morning!

Well, you're up and about

quite early, aren't you?

Oh, well, you know

the Lord's work

waits for no man.

Well, you know,

I wanted to tell you,

those Mexicans, uh,

they all seem to have lit out,

just like you said.

I telegraphed that money

to the church in Lamy.

It'll be waiting for you

when you arrive.

Thank you

so much, sir.

My congregation

will be much obliged.

Oh, uh, well,

I did have to deduct

a small percentage.

Cost of the cable.

Hope you don't mind.

No, no, no, of course, sir.

It's quite all right.

Safe travels, Reverend.

Do I know you?

Oh, this man, uh, uh,

he is Deacon Barr,

one of my most devout,

uh, parishioners.

Oh, well!

Pleased to meet you, Deacon.

Now, if you'll excuse me,

I've got a few Chinamen

to deport.

You're a man

of the future, Strindler.

My door is always open to you.

Come on!

Yah! Yah!

Sure your door's always open.

Johnny f*cking Behan!

That little sh*t

used to be the governor

of the g*dd*mn Yuma Jail!

What the f*ck's he up to now?

Government work.

- Hola! Good morning.

- Hola, amigo.

Okay, this one is a cook.

The two, I reckon,

are good for laundry.

Gracias.

Adios, amigo.

So, west to Roswell,

then north to Lamy?

Sounds about right.

And you have no idea

how he acquired the key?

None, Mr. Prosecutor.

I addressed him

via the prison bars.

Where do you think he went?

Mexico.

Yes, surely Strindler

is bound for Sonora.

Thank you, Ma'am.

You've been

of considerable assistance.

It is my pleasure, sir.

I had

the worst dream last night.

You was in it.

We was in some big city,

Denver, Blackhawk, maybe.

And there was these big mansions

rising way up high.

And yet...

everywhere you looked,

there was poor people,

sleeping on the streets,

living in tents.

And the worst thing

of it were...

it weren't just Denver, sir.

It was like that

all over the world.

Everywhere.

Oh, what you've

experienced, Borracho,

is what the French

would call a cauchemar,

fever dream!

You can rest assured, my friend,

such things will never happen.

Well, I sure hope

you're right, Professor.

I sure do.

Care for a pinch?

No, thank you kindly, Captain.

To each his own devices.

Did you compose that song

yourself, Borracho?

Indeed I did, Reverend.

Would you like

to hear some more?

Absolutely.

What'd I tell you?

Stay back, Princess.

Good and dead.

Mr. Swindler.

Let's see if you got

that bank book on you now.

All right.

Surprise!

sh*t!

sh*t!

No!

Ah.

Ah!

You see?

I am no swindler.

I am Strindler.

Strindler.

Oh!

I am Strindler.

Strindler.

Strindler.

Strindler!

I am Strindler!

Strindler.

Strindler!

Strindler!

Ha!