God damn it!
Oh, Lord, I am dying.
Do something. Help me.
I can do nothing for you, son.
Your pard has killed 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 did you see him?
Two days ago. Bagby's store.
They are coming here tonight to get remounts, and sofky.
They just robbed the Katy Flyer at 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 was outlawed up?
It don't matter. He knows I'm on the scout.
I will meet him later, walking the streets of glory.
Well, don't be looking for Quincy.
What do we do when they get here?
They ride up. What we want is to get them all in the dugout.
I'll kill the last one that goes in, then we'll have them in a barrel.
You will shoot him in the back?
It'll give them to know our intentions are serious.
Then I'll call down, see if they'll be taken alive.
If they won't, I'll shoot 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.
It's just a turkey shoot.
There was 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,
firing them two Navy sixes I carry on 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. - 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 hisself,
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.
You 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.
I did not figure them to send a scout.
Damn.
Hello?
It is LaBoeuf.
We have to warn him, Marshal.
Too late.
Texas Ranger.
What do we do, Marshal?
We sit. What does he do?
Him in the woolly chaps is Lucky Ned.
Well, that's that.
Well, that didn't pan out.
You managed to put a kink in my rope, pardner.
- I'm severely injured. - Yes, you got drug some.
Also shot by a rifle.
That's quite possible. The scheme did not develop as I had planned.
You've been shot in the shoulder, but the bullet passed through.
What happened to your mouth?
I believe I bit myself.
A couple of teeth loose and...
Oh, yeah, the tongue is bit almost through.
Do you want to see if it will knit or should I just yank it free?
I know a teamster who 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? What's that, now?
- Knit. - What's that now?
Knit. It will knit.
Very well. It's impossible to bind a tongue wound.
Too bad, we just run across a doctor of sorts.
- Marshal? - But I do not know
where he was headed.
I saw him, too. It's how I came to be here.
Neither of these men are Chaney.
I know, and I know them both.
That ugly one is Coke Hayes. Him uglier still is Clement Parmalee.
Parmalee and his brothers have a silver claim in the Winding Stair Mountains
and I bet that's where Lucky Ned's gang is waiting.
We'll sleep here, follow in the morning.
We promised to bury the poor soul inside.
Ground is too hard.
If them men wanted a decent burial,
they should have got themselves killed in summer.
Sleep well, Little Blackie.
I have a notion that tomorrow we will reach our object.
We are hot on the trail.
It seems that we will overtake Tom Chaney in the Winding Stair Mountains.
I would not want to be in his shoes.
As I understand it, Chaney, or Chelmsford,
as he called himself in Texas, shot the Senator's dog.
When the Senator remonstrated, Chelmsford shot him as well.
Now, you could argue that the shooting of the dog
was merely an instance of malum prohibitum,
but the shooting 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 shot, trampled,
and nearly severed his tongue
and 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 the Sharps carbine, that is within range.
But I was mounted,
and had the choice of firing offhand, or dismounting to shoot from rest,
which would allow Chelmsford to augment the distance.
I fired mounted
and fired wide.
You could not hit a man at 300 yards if your gun was resting on Gibraltar.
The Sharps carbine is an instrument of uncanny power and precision.
I have no doubt that the gun is sound.
My clothes is all ragged
My language is rough
My bread is corn dodgers, both solid and tough
And yet I am happy, and live at my ease
On sorghum molasses, and bacon and cheese
Greer County Bachelor, that was.
I do not believe he slept.
Fort Smith is a healthy distance, LaBoeuf,
but I would encourage the creature you ride to head thither.
Out here, a one-armed man looks like easy prey.
And a one-eyed man who can't shoot? Why don't you turn back, Cogburn?
I'll do fine.
I know where the Parmalee claim is.
I am uninjured and well-provisioned and we agreed to separate.
In conscience, you cannot cite our agreement.
- You're the one who shot me. - Mr. LaBoeuf has a point, Marshal.
It is an unfair leg-up in any competition to shoot your opposite number.
God damn it! I do not accept it as a given that I did shoot LaBoeuf.
There were plenty of guns going off.
I heard the rifle and I felt the ball.
You missed your shot, Cogburn, admit it.
Missed my shot?
You are more handicapped without the eye than I without the arm.
I can hit a gnat's eye at 90 yards.
That Chinaman is running them cheap shells on me again.
I thought you were gonna say the sun was in your eyes.
That is to say, your eye.
Two at one time!
I will chuck one high. Hold fire.
- There. - There?
- My bullet. - Your bullet?
If you hit what you aim at, explain my shoulder!
Gentlemen, shooting cornbread out here on the prairie
is getting us no closer to the Ned Pepper gang.
One more. This will prove it.
Please hold fire.
Find our way back!
Very few fiddle tunes I have not heard.
Once heard, they're locked into my mind forever.
Lucky Ned?
Lucky Ned!
Very good, Cogburn. Now what?
Oh, God damn it.
Cogburn does not want me eating out of his store.
That is silly. You have not eaten all day, and it is my store, not his.
Let him starve!
He does not track! He does not shoot, except at foodstuffs!
- That was your initiative. - He does not contribute.
He's a man who walks in front of bullets!
Mr. LaBoeuf drew single-handed upon the Lucky Ned Pepper gang
while we fired safely from cover.
We?
It is unfair to indict a man when his jaw is swollen and tongue mangled
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.
It is beneath me.
I shall make my own camp elsewhere.
It is you who have nothing to offer, Cogburn.
A sad picture indeed.
This is no longer a manhunt. 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 shot.
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 has been drawn into a wild-goose chase
by a harpy in trousers and a nincompoop!
Well, Mr. LaBoeuf, he can wander the Choctaw Nation for as long as he likes.
Perhaps the local Indians will take him in
and honor his gibberings by making him chief!
You, sister, may go where you like.
Our engagement is terminated.
I bow out.
- I am going with you. - That is not possible.
Have I held you back?
I have a Colt's 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 enough.
You've been a regular old hand on the trail.
But Cogburn is right,
even if I would 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.
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.
I mean, what are you doing in these mountains here?
I have not been formally 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 is a posse of officers up there who will force you to go.
That is interesting news. How many is up there?
Right around 50. And they're all well-armed and they mean business.
What I want you to do now is come on across the creek
and walk in front of me up that hill.
I think I will oblige the officers to come after me.
Well, if you refuse to go, I will have to shoot you.
Well, then, you had better cock your piece.
All the way back.
- Till it locks. - I know how to do it.
- You will not go with me? - No, it's just the other way around.
You're going with me.
- I did not think you would do it. - Well, what do you think now?
One of my short ribs is broken.
You killed 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.
- Nothing's gone right for me. - Mattie!
- I'm down here. - Now I'm shot 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 kill 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 kill 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 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.
Get on up that hill!
Quiet there.
- Farrell, see to Tom's wound. - Can I have some of that bacon?
You help yourself. Have some of the coffee.
I do not drink coffee. I'm 14.
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 shot my father to death in Fort Smith,
and robbed him of two gold pieces and stole his mare.
I was informed Rooster Cogburn had grit and I hired him to find the murderer.
A few minutes ago, I came upon Chaney watering the horses.
He would not be taken in charge and I shot him.
If I had killed him, I would not be now in this fix. My revolver misfired.
It will do it. It will embarrass you every time.
Most girls like to play pretties, but you like guns, do you?
I do not care a thing in the world about guns.
If I did, I would have one that worked.
I was shot from ambush, Ned.
My horses was blowing and making noise. That officer got me.
How can you sit there and tell such a big story?
That pit is 100 feet deep and I will throw you in it.
I'll leave you to scream and rot! How do you like that?
No, you won't. This man will not let you have your way.
He is your boss and you have to do as he tells you.
Well, nothing's going my way.
Was that Rooster 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 are 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 Hayes, the old fellow shot 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 bay. - I have other plans for you.
- Must I double-mount with the doctor? - No.
No, too chancy 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 Carroll back with a fresh mount.
You will be out by dark, and we will meet you at The Old Place.
I do not like that.
Let me ride with you, Ned, just out of here anyway.
- We're short a horse. - 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 kill me.
You heard him say it. He's killed my father
and now you will let him kill me.
He will do no such thing.
Tom, you know the crossing at Cypress Forks, near the log meeting house?
When you are mounted, you take the girl and leave her there.
Do you understand, Tom?
Any harm comes to that child, you do not get paid.
Harold, let me ride up with you.
Farrell!
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.
If 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, knowing I am sure to be caught when I leave on foot.
I must think over my position and how I may improve it.
Where is 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 it in an affidavit
and once you are brought to justice it may go easier on you.
I tell you, I can do better than that.
I need no affidavit.
All I need is your silence.
Your father was a busybody like you.
In honesty, I do not regret shooting him. He thought Tom Chaney was small.
And you, you would give me an affidavit. You're all against me. Every...
So that is Chelmsford.
Strange to be so close to him at last.
Mr. LaBoeuf. How is it that you are here?
I heard a shot and 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.
Well, Rooster, will you give us the road?
One against four? It 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. I have no interest in you today.
What is your intention, Rooster? You think one on four is a dogfall?
I mean to kill you in one minute, Ned.
Or see you hanged in Fort Smith at Judge Parker's convenience.
Which will you have?
I call that bold talk for a one-eyed fat man!
Fill your hand, you son of a bitch!
- Shoot them, Mr. LaBoeuf. - Too far. Moving too fast.
Well, Rooster,
I am shot to pieces.
It seems neither of us is to see Judge Parker.
Oh, Lord.
Some bully shot! That was 400 yards, at least.
Well, the Sharps carbine is a...
Stand up, Tom Chaney.
Mr. LaBoeuf.
Are you alive?
Mr. LaBoeuf!
Are you there?
- I'm here! - Can you clamber out?
I cannot.
- There are snakes. - They awake?
Yes.
I am 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 now.
I have her. Up with us!
We're up, Mr. LaBoeuf. Take her.
She's snakebit.
We're off. I'll send help for you as soon as I can.
Don't wander off.
We are not leaving him.
I must get you to a doc, sis, or you're not gonna make it.
I'm in your debt for that shot, pard.
Never doubt the Texas Ranger.
Go 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!
No, no!
No!
I've grown 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, till I was out of danger.
But he departed before I came round.
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.
Yessum?
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 in Jonesboro, Arkansas.
Buried him there in the 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 have 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 Tex as officer LaBoeuf.
If he is yet alive, I would be pleased to hear from him.
I judge he would be in his 70s now,
and nearer 80 than 70.
I expect some of the starch has gone out of that cowlick.
Time just gets away from us.