Heard your paper was running an honest race.
You heard right, Mr. Gebhardt.
Well, who in hell handicapped this owlhead as a favorite?
- The smart money. - That's what we come to get.
Deal.
Whoa, boy, whoa.
She's all finished, boy.
Yeah, she's all finished.
Must be the dude from London.
How's he gonna win a 700-mile race...
sitting on a postage stamp?
- He won't win. - Wonderful journey, wonderful.
Miss Jones? Reporter for the Western Press.
You the one who said I wouldn't show up?
In this case, I'm pleased to be wrong.
In that case, pleased to meet you.
Don't never touch me.
Never.
Morning. How much?
Civil War? The South?
These days medals from losers is worth nothing.
No offense, mister. Giddyap.
Three's bet.
Jack.
Two fifty.
Call it.
Two pair.
You drew to an inside straight?
- Ridiculous. - I think it's rather sporting.
I hope your horse doesn't run as lucky.
My horse is the luckiest horse in the West...
but he never plays cards for money.
We've had more than 60 letters to the editor asking why a woman's in the race.
Written by men?
Mostly women. They figure you must have a special reason.
Two thousand reasons.
How about you, Mr. Carbo?
Can your horse stand up against thoroughbreds?
My bronc only has to be half as good as them hotbloods...
'cause I'm twice as good as these old-bloods.
I've never been committed to defeat quite so tactfully.
This race'll be won by a horse, not a mouth.
Won by a bronco.
No thoroughbred has the speed, wind or bottom of a mustang...
not for 700 miles... and that includes your Arabian.
Five thousand dollars... my horse against the field.
- Even money? - How much?
- Three thousand. - I'll cover the rest.
There's plenty more if you're game.
One game at a time, Mr. Parker.
Where is this great horse of his anyway?
Coming aboard next stop.
- Good to have you with us. - Thank you.
- Where the hell is my horse? - Mr. Parker, meet...
- You... you see my horse? - Was she here?
- Supposed to be. - Was I supposed to see her?
You can't miss her. She's got "champion" written all over her.
Oh, I see. That explains everything.
I don't read.
Hold your damn horses!
We're running late.
You're not leaving without my horse.
- You know the rules, Mr. Parker. - The hell with your rules.
Afternoon.
Can you spare some milk for a hungry orphan?
There you are.
He don't know anything but his ma's tit.
You like horses?
You got one of your own?
You want one?
You got one then.
Don't I gotta pay something?
Don't ever treat him bad.
You're in the big time...
I'm in the shithouse.
- Out. - For what?
- Hustling. - That's a crime? They're all hustlers.
They work for me. You don't. That makes it a crime.
Ride him, cowboy!
Ride him, cowboy, ride him!
Whiskey for me and beer for my horse.
Hey, Sam, how you doing?
A cowboy always tends to his horse first.
- Telegraph Chicago. - You're covered.
15,000 at seven-to-five. 12,000 in Kansas City, even money.
- Call off all bets. - Can't be done, baby. It's play or pay.
- Get through to my son. - On his way, Mr. Parker.
He'll be here before dark.
Parker, your father left about an hour ago.
- What about Tripoli? He show yet? - No, sir.
Stupid... $40,000 bet on a missing horse in the hands of a damn fool.
Two important regulations.
- Rule one. - Win!
Rule one: Each horse must carry no less than 160 pounds...
including rider, saddle and extras.
Rule two.
You'll be issued a compass and a map...
for every leg of the race.
On it, you'll find the safest route.
You don't have to take it.
You do have to make every checkpoint.
Miss one, you're disqualified... out of the race.
Any questions?
Jump off time: 6:00 in the morning.
Hey, British!
- Drink to the winner. - Thank you.
I haven't really won the race yet, however...
Damn fine shooting, sir.
The best, right?
If you say so.
What do you say, pop?
Never saw a man yet could hold his liquor like a bottle.
Hey, you, what's your name?
What do you say?
You're pretty good calling a poker hand.
You care to call this hand?
You gonna pass?
Nobody wants to play.
Yo, Tex, fetch a jackass.
- Anybody killed? - Just the quart.
You done right.
A boy looking for a reputation is the most dangerous thing alive.
It certainly wasn't worth dying for.
What is?
Even if you do it, what's it gonna prove?
Proves I can do it. That's what it proves.
- You old devil! - All right!
That your jackass?
- Well, it ain't your business! - You never heard of Sam Clayton...
champion of dumb animals, ladies in distress...
Lost kids and lost causes?
- How you been? - Fine, till you come along.
- You want it sudden? Palm Sunday! - Drag it out.
Matthew, chapter five, verse 44.
- Just like old times. - Yeah.
You start trouble, and I start bleeding.
- Get up, damn it! - Palm Sunday's over.
Hurts, don't it?
Something personal?
My eyes ain't as good as his. I might miss, and then you'd be dead...
and I'd be out of the race for abusing a dumb animal.
Bad for you, worse for me.
Okay, pop.
You look like a man of property.
Well, when I shook you, my luck changed.
- Big things? - New things.
- Easy living? - Right.
- Who wants easy living? - I do.
You... you're fired.
Your job was to getJ B's horse on that train.
That was your job.
Much obliged.
You gave all the others a 70-mile advantage!
She was handled real easy, Mr. Parker.
Perfect condition.
Then she'll win.
If she could have won before today, she'll still win.
Except for one thing.
- Me. - And me.
Me too.
You'll need moving money.
Who said I'm moving?
Staying takes even more money.
I've got a month's pay coming.
A hot bath costs five dollars.
I guess I just won't bathe.
Takes $15 just to get drunk.
I'm gonna stay sober.
Thirty dollars for an all-night woman.
Seventy miles in six hours, eh?
Could he go 100 miles every day for a week?
That might be enough to win this race.
I came 5,000 miles to try it.
- Why? - To beat the best.
Mister, you must be either rich or crazy.
A little of both, I'm afraid.
I came 3,000 miles for the Kentucky Derby...
another 2,000 to see Joe Gans box "Battling" Nelson.
Forty-two fantastic rounds... it was bloody marvelous!
You know who won?
I'm not interested.
Not interested in who won?
That's not only unbelievable...
it's positively un-American.
What does interest you?
Right now? Just a job.
What did Parker pay you... $50 a month, 60?
You win this race, and you'll get three years' pay.
What's the horse get out of it...
colic, cracked bones?
Mister, you ever see a horse run himself dead just to please the man on his back?
And what for... get his picture in the paper?
- For glory? - Some men live for it.
Horse don't give a damn who wins a race.
Me neither.
In the interest of the West's greatest horse, the bronco...
and myself who grows them, I'm putting up an extra $1,000...
to the bronco rider who wins!
Matthews...
I'd like a chance to win back some of my dad's money.
I figured you would.
- Well, how do you like the joint? - It ain't Kansas City.
Would you believe so many chumps in the middle of"Nowhere, USA"?
- Like shooting fish in a barrel. - Nice, fat sucker fish.
All you need is the right bait, Rosie.
Well, it takes more than a deck of cards and a pair of knockers.
Horse race pulled them in.
This crowd... their hustle's the fast buck.
- What's yours? - Same.
And if you don't win...
which you won't...
I'll lend you the 2,000. You can work it off in Kansas City.
Bang, bang, you're in the chips.
At $20 a bang, out of which you get half...
that's one hell of a lot of banging.
It's a hell of a lot easier on your ass than 700 miles in a saddle.
The money's for Steve.
He won't care how you got it.
How many times have you been married?
Eleven... ten without a preacher or license.
Well, did you love any of them?
Oh, all of them... every one of them...
the good and the bad.
It's a shame to waste all that prime beef...
on a guy serving three-to-five in a prison.
You two keep in touch?
He's kind of a lousy letter writer.
- Lousy bank robber too. - Yeah.
Thank you.
You have anything for a toothache?
Latest thing in miracles...
heroin.
One of these painkillers with a chaser of whiskey...
four hours of joyhouse.
Have you tried this heroin yourself?
Mister, I tried everything except confession.
- Even God wouldn't believe it. - Hey, miss? Beer.
I'd forgotten how good a bad woman feels.
Oh, flattery and money will get you anything.
Two of the best for two of the best.
Truly wonderment.
- Whiskey. - Here. Have a little touch.
- You drink with greasers? - Only senoritas.
My grandpa was Mexican.
I bathed that old man every day till he died.
It's a funny thing though. I never did find a greasy spot on him.
- Pure Mex ain't bad. - Breed... you can smell it.
Well, that must be why I can't smell it.
I'm half Cherokee.
I'm a squaw man myself.
Anybody pays gets drinks. Anybody don't like it, throw them out.
Mr. Matthews.
Business.
Hey, miss.
I'll miss your company.
Ninth and final entry, Clayton riding a coldblood.
Attention! For all contestants...
everything is on the house...
except booze, betting and bawds.
What else is there?
You got a problem.
We both can't win.
No, that's not the problem.
The problem is, I can't afford to lose.
Who won the Gans-Nelson fight?
Gans, on a foul in the 42nd round.
He was the greatest fighter I ever saw in my life...
black or white.
Won me $300 which I ran into $2000... most of it old Parker's money.
- Anyway... - You know...
you know I'm un-American?
What's that?
Well, I don't know exactly.
Except if you're not the best...
or the first, or the greatest...
if you don't win...
then you're not American.
Which brings us to the problem.
You know, I didn't even know Joe Gans was a black man?
I just bet everything on this race.
I got seven-to-one.
You bet two goddamn thousand dollars?
- On yourself? - Well, who else?
Well, that's not so serious.
All you've got to do is beat J B Parker's champion horse...
and J B Parker's champion rider and J B Parker's champion disposition.
- That's all. - You know that ain't all.
My bet says no other rider in the race will beat mine.
That's in writing, and that's a problem.
Miss.
Well, you got nothing to worry about.
Well, you admit that you can outdrink...
outfight, outshoot, outjump...
outluck, outride any man born of woman, don't you?
Except you. I never said I could outride you.
Do we eat now or after?
- Just so it's not during. - Class.
For a natural-born loser, you certainly got lots of class.
You just be at that finish line with that $16,000.
He expects to win.
You saying this race is fixed?
All I know is, no matter what the game... cards, craps, racing, boxing, whatever...
if you can bet on it, it can be fixed.
Can be. And that's all I know.
Well, all I know is, I'm winning this race...
so don't crowd me.
Mister? How do you like it, mister?
Without conversation.
Come on now.
Don't forget my gear. Get all the tables.
Don't forget the booze. Strip the joint.
Hey, get a horse!
Maybe that'll save a couple miles.
Is he all right?
Splendid!
Fine.
Oh, my old boy, what did I do to you?
That was damn stupid of me, wasn't it?
A little over eight hours.
They ought to be strung out from here...
to about here.
How far we come?
Oh, about halfway, I think.
- Halfway? - To the first checkpoint.
The father of your father...
he was truly a Mexicano?
But you are simpatico.
I had a toothache once.
I've had it. Good luck!
So long! Good luck!
What happened to the miracle painkiller?
He took six pills in one hour instead of one every four hours.
Killed the pain, all right, but he almost died.
I made him throw up the pills...
and now his toothache is back.
- Can you get a dentist on that thing? - Even if he could, which he can't...
and the dentist comes, which he won't, by the time he gets here we'll be gone.
The nearest town's 100 miles in any direction.
He wants it pulled.
- Who by? - By us.
- He's crazy. - He's got a lot of faith.
That proves he's crazy.
Checking out.
Christie just rode out.
So did I.
Hold this, will you?
Tooth's chipped.
Well, that nerve is opened.
Cover the tooth and the pulling can wait.
- What about the poison? - That goes first.
Do I cut it from the inside or from the outside?
I'll do it.
What caliber's that tooth?
Bullet size. Use the casing to cover the tooth.
- Smaller. - Smaller. Okay.
Checking out.
Crank out a round for me, will ya?
After you doctor him up...
suppose he goes out and wins... then what do you say?
I'd have to say you're out $2,000.
Checking out!
You're losing time.
Right.
You won't think it's unsporting?
Aw, hell, racing for money ain't sport. It's war.
This liniment's gonna burn for a week.
Put a little right there.
Careful of my vitals.
Seems you're not too worried about this race.
Yeah, seems like it.
You know, missing that train like you did yesterday...
that's just not like your kind of man.
- You must've had a good reason. - Yeah, must've had.
Well, I don't give a damn about the reason. I was out of hand.
- I just wanted you to know that. - What's on your mind, Mr. Parker?
I want you to come back on our team.
You'll get a bonus and a raise.
Deal?
Just take the rest of the week off with pay.
How about it?
I'll look you up after the race, Mr. Parker.
Bite.
Thanks.
- Get any sleep? - Not much.
- They gone? - Yeah.
- Long? - Three, four hours.
We'll catch them before dark.
Drop it.
Hog-tie her.
Turn around.
Morning, neighbor.
- Fixing to stay? - No, just passing through.
Then you ain't my neighbor.
- Been here long? - Ever since I come.
Your trail... where does it go?
Ain't going nowhere that I know of. Always been there.
Well, how far is it to town?
Don't know. Never measured it.
Well, you don't seem to know much.
I say, you don't seem to know much.
Mister, I don't know a damn thing about nothing...
but I ain't the one who's lost.
Much obliged.
Jesus!
He is generous today.
Ah, one of us went a normal way.
Hold him, damn it!
Muzzle that stump-sucking bastard!
I ought to bust your ass wide open, you lousy whore!
Shut up, goddamn it!
You ain't nothing but a lousy crib-alley whore!
Get back that rope.
Don't say it.
Don't! What he said don't bother me. Now, quit!
Nothing to do with you.
I know you can pull this over here...
but how in the hell do I pull you over there?
Good evening.
- Good evening, gentlemen. - Good evening.
Miss Jones.
And how was the shorter road?
Longer.
I'll go have a look.
Watch the sport.
Miss Jones...
gonna need a blanket.
He's crazy.
He's gotta be crazy.
Is that so?
He tried to kill me.
Well, he couldn't have tried very hard.
Son of a bitch tried to kill me!
Now...
why don't you tell me the story of your life.
Just skip everything but the last few minutes.
What the hell you doing down here?
By God, I'm shivering.
Is it busted?
What's busted is my pump.
How do you know?
Army doc couple of years back.
He said when that pain hits your arm, that's the alarm bell.
When it hits your pump right after...
that's it.
Can you make it to the checkpoint?
Come on. It's only a couple hours easy ride.
- Let's try it. - All right. Come on.
Hold on.
You certainly have a knack of provoking a man to violence.
- All I said was that she was... - It must've been the way you said it.
- Like an insult. - Hell, yeah.
When a woman does it for money...
A man always gets the best of the bargain.
Before you take her to bed, she's a thing of beauty.
In bed, an angel of mercy.
And afterwards, she's a...
Whore.
A pillow of peace.
A whore.
That's what Clay married...
in the war... Cuba, '98.
She's the only woman Clay ever loved.
How about you?
I was never that lucky.
Let go. I don't want them to know.
I ain't run out my string yet.
Evening. Thank you.
Hey, old man. Thought for sure you'd cashed it in.
Not till I'm back in Oklahoma.
I'd rather be in hell than Oklahoma.
Every man to his own country.
Thanks.
Why didn't you take the barge across? Against your religion or something?
You know Injun ponies.
Said if he couldn't go on a canoe, he'd rather swim.
- Well, I'll save you some supper. - That's good.
I want it served by one of them nice ladies...
wearing nothing but a big smile.
Done.
Thanks.
Why?
Why would a sick old man like you get tangled up in all this?
Why in the name of sweetJesus?
What is so important about this gut-twisting, back-busting...
man-killing goddamn race?
- The money? - The prize.
- The prize is the money. - The prize is winning.
Lose, you're nothing.
Who remembers a loser, or even cares?
Win, you're somebody.
What you done, it's printed. It's in the newspaper.
And when it's printed, it ain't brag... it's real.
Suddenly, everybody knows you, or wants to.
Strangers shaking your hand.
"Pleased to know you. Have a drink.
Have a cigar. Meet the wife."
Everybody's friendly and welcome.
And I got a lifetime hunger for being welcome.
No family?
Him.
You know saddle tramps. They sign on...
drive the beef a thousand miles, make your mark...
draw your pay and move on to the next ranch.
Another roundup, another drive.
Hired, fired and move on.
Well, it never bothered me none.
No, me neither when I was 30 years lighter.
Ever prospected?
Ever hit pay dirt?
I've dug for gold, silver...
lead, mercury.
I've dug more holes than a whole regiment of gophers.
Ain't never dug out a decent day's wage yet.
God, what ain't I tried?
Pony Express rider...
Overland Stage driver...
lawman, gambler...
river man, rancher...
rodeo hand...
barman, spittoon man...
old man.
Nothing much to remember.
Of course, ain't nothing much to forget neither.
Nobody's got much use for an old man.
Can't blame 'em much.
That's why I'm gonna win me this here newspaper race.
When I cross that finish line...
I get to be a big man.
Top man.
A man to remember.
I didn't even know your name, mister.