Let go. I don't want them to know.
I ain't run out of my string yet.
-Evening. Thank you. -Old man, I thought 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?
You know Injun ponies. Said if he couldn't go on a canoe, he'd rather swim.
-Well, I saved you some supper. -That's good.
I want it served by one of them nice ladies wearing nothing but a big smile.
Done!
Why?
Why, in damn it, would a sick old man like you get tangled up in all this?
Why, in the name of sweet Jesus?
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 a 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.
I got a lifetime hunger for being welcome.
No family?
Him.
You know saddle tramps. They sign on...
...drive the beef 1,000 miles, make your mark...
...draw your pay, and move on to the next ranch.
Another round up. Another drive.
Hired, fired, and move on.
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.
I 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, there ain't nothing much to forget, either.
Nobody's got much use for an old man.
I can't blame them much.
That's why I'm going to 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.
A couple of miles out from here, 47 miles of desert. Nothing but sand.
An ocean of it. By night, cold.
Hostile, but easier going.
By day, a blazing hellhole.
Halfway across, water stop.
The only one. Miss that water, you're in trouble.
If you're lucky, eight hours in the devil's own frying pan.
Railroad. We'll wait here till noon.
Can you beat the desert before sunup? Well, how does it shape up?
Tight.
You're not worried? Who by?
An old man, a girl, a punk kid.
Where's the class?
Kids and old men don't respect class. And don't sell the girl short.
-If she ever cut that brute of hers loose.... -Why would she hold back?
Probably too green to know better, but the Mexican's not. And he's tough.
-Anytime we can't beat a Mexican.... -Horseshit.
-And that stubborn Englishman.... -He'll never keep up the lick.
Tell that to him! I lose him, I look around, he's biting my ass.
-Sand dunes will finish him. -The tougher it gets, the better he likes it.
The same goes for Matthews.
What he hasn't got in horse, he makes up for in brass.
Cuts every corner, takes a lot of chances, and he's lucky.
That cowboy you fired....
-So far, he's showed nothing. -So far, maybe he ain't tried.
His bronc's a real stayer. Tough hide. He's got the heart.
Cowboy's got the know-how.
He's the sleeper. The one to beat.
-We'll beat him. -Yeah.
News. We're big news everywhere.
"Chicago. Adding $250 to purse and will headline winner in my Wild West Show.
"Signed, 'Buffalo' Bill Cody."
-Wasn't he the fastest gun in the West? -Only in bed, kiddo.
"London. To Sir Harry Norfolk," our Englishman:
"Up the British. Signed, Prince of Wales."
Invitations to the winner from Rome, Paris, Moscow. All expenses paid.
And, get this. From the President of the United States:
"To all the intrepid contestants. Bully for you!
"To the two Rough Riders, Clayton and Matthews, who served with me in Cuba...
"...remember San Juan Hill. Charge, boys, charge!"
Look him over. Fast!
-What happened to the old man? -He's dead.
Get moving. I'm going out.
-This horse is running a temperature. -It's nothing that will bother him.
I'll be fine.
Son of a bitch.
I'm going to catch me that champion.
Yes, sir. I'm going to catch him before this day is done.
Salt.
Could I ask you something? Your wife...
...where is she?
I was wondering how you met.
I work for Rosie. Off and on, about a year.
I guess that don't surprise you none.
The only thing that surprises me is the people some people marry.
Because she was a whore?
A Cuban.
Paula was a Cuban insurrecto.
Guerrillas, fighting the Spanish, just like we was.
That's where we met. On the battlefield.
That was our wedding bed till that day.
We came out of the jungle, and there it was, San Juan Hill.
Spanish guns looking right down our throat and sharpshooters picking us off.
We just charged right up that hill.
That's not the way it happened at all.
It wasn't anything like it was in San Antonio, where we did our training.
That's where I ran into Luke...
...and a lot of other men from every other country...
...that wanted to be Rough Riders.
Bakers and barbers. Congressmen and cattlemen.
Ballplayers, farmers, reporters, cowboys.
No, we didn't rough ride up that hill...
...'cause we didn't have any horses.
We didn't charge up there, either.
We crawled up there on our scared bellies.
There was only one horse and one rider.
That was Colonel Teddy.
He went charging up that damn hill.
They shot his glasses off. He put on another pair.
They nicked him in the elbow. And he said, "Follow me!"
And we did, 'cause we were too damn ashamed not to.
After the Hill, came the church.
There was a French 75 out front.
Every window had a rifle sticking out of it. There was a Gatling gun in the bell tower.
We could have called the artillery boys in to blow it to pieces...
...but outside, along the walls...
...they'd tied all these people up. Roped them together, hogtied them.
Looked like a bunch of sandbags.
Women and children, nuns and prisoners.
My Paula among them.
Neither me nor Luke nor anybody else knew what to do.
Inside the church, they knew what to do. They opened up on us and we fell back.
All of a sudden, I heard Paula scream out: "Asalto, Cubanos, asalto !"
Then, a Spanish bullet.
The rest of the women took up the cry. "Attack, Cubans, attack! Attack!"
Her own band of guerrillas led the way.
The people some people marry.
I wasn't worth her spit.
Bury him.
-What with? -Your goddamn hands.
See he does it.
You see to it.
What he said. Is it that important?
It must be. He said it twice.
It was Gans in the 42nd round!
Anyway, he's walking in from a couple of miles back.
Didn't want me to carry the extra weight. He said it wasn't sporting.
-Hey, kid! -Yes, sir.
-I'm going to lay a chore on you. -Yes, sir.
Take the old-timer's horse there.
We got a problem with those prisoners. They're all maximum-security.
Our plan still holds. Look for this mark on the left front hoof.
No horse passes through without this mark.
List of riders.
To you, this race is worth about $2,000. To me, it's worth $14,000.
Now, say it's you and me in front...
...coming down the stretch. Got the picture?
You hold back. Make it look good, of course. I win.
I collect my bet, turn the prize money over to you. Nobody gets hurt...
...except old Parker, who's out $14,000, which is only justice.
Yeah, you're right.
-I could never do that to my best friend. -Only friend.
-So we split 50-50. Deal? -No deal.
-You want more than me? -What I want is....
Name it.
What I'm going to do is win this race.
That is the greediest, most selfish thing that....
Do you realise you're betraying a friend?
If it ain't by a friend, it ain't betrayal.
Thank you.
Got it.
Not hungry?
Miss?
Sorry about all those things I said.
All this hardware.
I ain't never been in a gunfight.
Killing a man don't prove you're a man.
I ain't never been a cowboy, either, like I said.
I know.
I've been around a lot of cowhands, one way or another.
Cowboy dresses from the top down. First thing on is his hat.
And he undresses from his boots up. Last thing off, hat.
Another thing. To be a cowpuncher.
That don't mean you got to go around punching them.
Yes, ma'am.
Laudanum.
Supposed to make you sexy-sleepy.
Well, I've got no such problems.
I got to get me some sleep. I can't sleep.
Guilty conscience.
Why? 'Cause I won't throw the race?
Nothing so hard on a man as virtue.
How could you know?
According to the Gospel of Old Luke Matthews.
"Virtue is its own punishment."
You might say this is our Last Supper.
Beyond that next mountain, it's all downhill to the finish line.
And you, Mr. Norfolk. Will you be with us at the finish?
I wouldn't miss it.
To the West!
Awesome, but inspiring.
What the hell's inspiring about a flash flood or a blizzard?
Or a landslide or sandstorm or dust storm?
Any sudden disaster, personal or financial?
Today, the desert broiled you raw. Tomorrow, the mountain'll freeze you stiff.
That's your West. Violent, treacherous.
Where every prairie dog hole is a goldmine.
Every molehill is a mountain. Every creek is a river, and everybody you meet is a liar.
"When you call me that, smile, stranger."
The Virginian, Owen Wister. Another liar.
For a family who don't know a jackass from a mule, you know about the West.
We don't have to know about it. We own it.
Bastard! You poisoned him!
-Wait, Miss Rosie. -Who paid you?
-Him? -Nobody.
-Bitch! Where'd you get this? -A couple of days ago.
For me! For when I can't sleep. Neither could he. Ask him!
No, she's right!
It's just supposed to make you sleepy. That's all.
Mix it with booze...
...you get one hell of a Mickey Finn.
See you.
Bet your ass!
-Your name? -Jones.
Stretch! Face down.
Steve.
Kate. The rifle!
What about those two, Steve? Just where the hell do they fit in?
I need them. They're coming with us.
How?
-You're not taking this horse. -His and two more. That's the plan.
The plan was us! Nobody else! You and me, out of here on my horse.
Will you for Christ's sake shut up?
Dirty business.
You never think, maybe, to win this damn race?
They hurt you?
I have seen many bullets.
Too many.
But this one....
Truly, did you ever know...
...a bullet that is good for the health?
The key!
How do you start it? How do you make it go and how do you stop it?
Take your hand off the clutch!
-I'd like to go with them. -This horse stays here.
That makes it a one-horse race.
That's not the kind of race I wanted to win.
Set a reasonable time for them to get back with their horses.
If they get back.
If he gets into those woods....
Hey, kid! The horse!
Miss Jones.
The people some people marry.