Heard your paper was running an honest race.
You heard right, Mr. Gebhardt.
Well, who in hell handicapped this owlhead as a favourite?
-The smart money. -That's what we come to get.
She's all finished, boy. Yeah, she's all finished.
Must be the dude from London.
How's he going to 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 said I wouldn't show up? -I'm pleased to be wrong.
In that case, pleased to meet you.
Don't you never touch me. Never.
Morning.
How much?
Civil War? South?
These days, medals from losers is worth nothing. No offence, mister.
$300's a bet.
Check.
$250? Call.
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 sixty letters to the editor asking why is a woman 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 oldbloods.
I've never been committed to defeat quite so tactfully.
This race will 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.
$5,000. My horse against the field.
-Even money? -How about you?
-$3,000. -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. Mr. Parker. -Thank you.
-Where the hell is my horse? Seen her? -Was she here?
-She's supposed to be. -Was I supposed to see her?
You can't miss her. She's got "champion" written all over her.
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?
He don't know anything but his mom's teat.
You like horses?
You got one of your own?
You want one?
You got one, then.
-Don't I got to pay something? -Yeah.
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!
Whiskey for me, and beer for my horse.
Cowboy always tends to his horse first.
Telegraph Chicago.
You're covered, $15,000 at 7-to-5. $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. He'll be here before dark.
-Your father left about an hour ago. -What about Tripoli? He show yet?
-No, sir. -He's stupid.
$40,000 bet on a missing horse, in the hands of a 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 going to pass?
Nobody wants to play.
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 going to prove?
Proves I can do it. That's what it proves.
That your jackass?
No.
Then it ain't your business!
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? -Drag it out.
Palm Sunday.
Matthew 5:44.
Just like old times.
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. 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. -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 get J.B.'s horse on the train. That was your job.
You gave all the others a 70-mile advantage.
He 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 got a month's pay coming.
A hot bath costs $5.
I guess I just won't bathe.
It takes $15 just to get drunk.
I'm going to stay sober.
$30 for an all-night woman.
Seventy miles in six hours?
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.
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 marvellous.
-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?
You ever see a horse run himself dead just to please the man on his back? 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.
-How do you like the joint? -It ain't Kansas City.
Would you believe so many chumps in the middle of Nowhere, U.S.A.?
Like shooting fish in a barrel.
-Nice, fat sucker fish. -All you need is the right bait, Rosie.
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? -The 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 you been married? -Eleven. Ten without a preacher or license.
-Well, did you love any of them? -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 prison.
You two keep in touch?
-He's kind of a lousy letter writer. -Lousy bank robber, too.
You have anything for a toothache?
Latest thing in miracles: heroin.
One of these painkillers, and 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!
I've forgotten how good a bad woman feels.
Flattery and money will get you anything!
Two of the best, for two of the best.
Truly a wonderment.
Whiskey.
-You drink with greasers? -Only se?oritas.
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.
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?
We've 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.
The greatest fighter I ever saw in my life, black or white.
Won me $300, which I ran into $2,000. Most of it old Parker's money.
-Anyway.... -You know, I'm un-American?
What's that?
I don't know exactly.
Except, if you're not the best...
...or the first and the greatest, if you don't win...
...then you're not American.
-Which brings us to the problem. -I didn't know Joe Gans was a black man.
I just bet everything on this race. I got 7-to-1.
You bet $2,000?
-On yourself? -Who else?
Well, that's not so serious.
All you 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.
No. 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.
You got nothing to worry about.
You admit that you can out-drink...
...out-fight, out-shoot, out-jump...
...out-luck, out-ride any man born of woman, don't you?
Except you. I never said I could out-ride 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.
-How do you like it, mister? -Without conversation.
Don't forget my bed. Get all the tables. Don't forget the booze. Strip the joint!
Get a horse!
Maybe. Maybe that'll save a couple miles.
Is he all right?
Splendid.
Boy, what did I do to you?
It 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?
Halfway, I think.
-Halfway? -To the first checkpoint.
The father of your father. He was truly a Mejicano?
But you are simpático.
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.
Now his toothache is back. Can you get a dentist on that thing?
If he could, and if the dentist comes, 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 l.
Hold this, will you?
Tooth's chipped.
That nerve is open.
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 calibre's that tooth?
The bullet size. Use the casing to cover the tooth.
-Smaller. -Smaller. Okay.
Checking out.
Crank out a round for me, will you?
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 unsporting?
Hell, racing for money ain't sport. It's war.
This liniment's going to burn for a week.
Put a little right there.
Careful of my vitals.
-Seems you're not worried about this race. -Yeah, seems like it.
You know, missing that train like you did yesterday...
...that's not like your kind of man. You must have had a good reason.
I must have 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 get a bonus and a raise. Deal?
You 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 long? -Three, four hours.
We'll catch them before dark.
Drop it!
Drop it.
Hogtie her.
Turn around.
Morning, neighbour.
-You fixing to stay? -No, just passing through.
Then you ain't my neighbour.
-Been here long? -Ever since I come.
This trail here. 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 said, "You don't seem to know much."
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.
One of us better know the way.
Hold him, damn it! Muzzle that stump-sucking bastard.
I ought to bust your ass wide-open! Lousy whore.
-Don't. -Shut up, damn 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. 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, going to need a blanket.
He's crazy! He's got to 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!
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?
No.
Come on, it's only a couple of hours. Easy ride.
Let's try.
You certainly have a knack of provoking a man to violence.
-All I said was that she was-- -It was the way you said it.
Like an insult.
-When a woman does it for money.... -A man gets the best of the bargain.
Before you take her to bed, she's a thing of beauty.
In bed, an angel of mercy.
-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.