Before we hear this verdict, Greenleaf, remember this:
Someone's going to hang before the sun goes down,
either my client or the judge.
¶ ¶
Bloody fool.
I beg your pardon?
You fell right into their hands.
Don't you think they saw you coming?
Why are you chained up like this?
Well, isn't it all perfectly clear?
The jail, prisoner,
the guard.
And I?
Counsel for the defense.
We've been waiting on the trial
till someone'd come by who'd stand up for him.
Are you the judge?
Now, what else would I be doing here
all dressed up like a sore thumb?
Elroy P. Greenleaf,
presiding justice, at your service.
Uh, don't move so sudden-like,
or that hogleg's liable
to start a-twitchin' in, uh, Moley's hand.
Moley, perhaps you'd better show him...
I know.
I know who you are.
I've had the boys keep their eye on you
ever since you been crossing over into my country.
Your country?
I thought I was in the state of Arkansas.
Me and President Grant never did get that settled
to both our satisfaction.
What we need is a brave soul
who will give us a good show for the defense.
Well, I'm not a lawyer.
Now why are you picking on me?
Most folks round here would no more like
to set themselves against me than they'd want to be in hell
with their back broke- not that I blame 'em.
Well, why don't you wait for the real authorities?
Real authorities?!
Who might that be?
There'd be no man, woman or child in this devil's half acre
safe in his own bed, if I quit.
So like it or not,
I'm what authority and law there is.
Now, uh, if you refuse to help me
balance the scales of justice...
why, that fine gentleman is good as hanged right now.
I'm not a lawyer...
but if you like, I'll do what I can.
Which is precisely nothing.
If he sasses you, give him the back of your hand.
Show him how, Moley.
No, Moley!
You know...
this is gonna be real interesting.
An inspiration.
You know, you could've done worse.
Reckon I'll go inside.
Lawyer's consultations ought to be privileged.
You got ten minutes.
May I see that card of yours?
Kind of man who keeps me in business.
Oh, you an undertaker?
From the undertaker's point of vantage,
there's little to choose between us.
I'm a surgeon.
Dr. Simeon Loving, Harvard, '54.
Well, Doctor, you're not being tried for malpractice, are you?
Out of consideration for the limited vocabulary
of the 12 human donkeys who are to serve as my peers,
the indictment has been somewhat simplified.
To what?
To murder.
Murder?
A man came to me with gunshot wounds.
I treated him, put him up for the night,
then sent him on his way.
Presently, it seems
my patient responded so well to the treatment
that only a day later,
he killed the deputy who was pursuing him.
And since your patient is not available personally,
you are being tried, and possibly hung, in his stead.
Exactly.
Dr. Loving, it didn't occur to you
to turn a wanted criminal over to the law?
I didn't pry into the man's occupation
while he was hovering between life and death.
As for the law,
there is no law in this howling wilderness.
There's only Elroy Greenleaf.
To me, it was no dilemma at all
to choose between that two-footed obscenity
and the sublime oath of Hippocrates:
"But whatsoever you shall see and hear of the lives of men
"which is not fitting to be spoken,
you will keep inviolably secret."
Yeah.
Where you going?
There's a telegraph office at the end of the street.
I'm gonna try and get a federal judge
to come in here and stop this ridiculous farce.
You're wasting your time, sir.
Doctor, I would rather waste my time than your life.
All right.
That'll be two dollars.
Well, if it's convenient,
I'd like this sent at once.
Stranger, aren't ya?
Not to telegraph offices.
That apparatus ain't workin' right.
It ain't been right for weeks.
You don't mind if I have a look at it?
Unauthorized persons ain't allowed
to mess with the equipment.
Well, since it's not working anyway,
I can't possibly do it any harm, can I?
There, now.
I didn't do any damage after all, did I?
That trial waitin' on you?
Folks get mighty thirsty waitin'.
Once they start drinkin', some of 'em can get right ugly.
Can't hardly wait for a hangin'.
First 12 good men into the jury...
here's your fee.
Wait a minute! No!
Hear ye, hear ye, this honorable court is now in session.
Your Honor, the defense challenges the selection
of this jury.
Got anyone better in mind than these 12
God-fearing, upright men?
Well...
Yes, sir, what about this gentleman right here?
Very well.
Sir...
uh, would you rise, please?
Have you heard about this homicide?
Yes.
Have you held any conversations upon the subject?
Yes.
Have you formed an opinion about it?
I have.
Man biased in advance.
Might as well not have any trial at all.
Thank you.
In the words of Sam Clemens,
only the ignorant can mete out unsullied justice.
Your Honor, the defense withdraws the challenge.
Oh, now, don't sulk.
I want you to challenge me.
Yes, sir, you think you can do me?
You just go right ahead and try.
Oh, I intend to.
You wouldn't like to make a small side bet
on the outcome, would you?
I might.
A hundred, say?
A hundred dollars?
That's all the confidence you have in this fine
body of upstanding men?
Five hundred.
Now, are you or are you not a sporting man?
What are you pushing for, mister?
Well, if I lose this, uh, game,
my client gets hung.
Obviously.
Well, who gets hung if you lose?
Huh?
Equal stakes, that's all I'm asking for.
You want to hang me?
Why not?
Now, on what grounds, might I ask?
Conspiracy to commit murder.
You're diving in shallow water, mister.
Well, wouldn't want all the risk to be on one side, would you?
I wouldn't bet 25 cents
with a man that doesn't have any more backbone than that.
You got yourself a bet.
But mister, if you lose,
a spider on a hot stove will be sitting pretty by comparison.
Of course, that gallows outside is strong enough to hold two.
Now, on what grounds would you hang me?
Conspiracy to commit murder.
This man on trial here for murder...
...this man is guilty of nothing more or less
than doing his sworn duty as a physician.
Now, if he can be hung for that...
then you people remember one thing.
Any one of you- you or you, or you, sir-
for any reason whatever...
...you could be next.
Your Honor.
Cutler, when you stole that mare
from those folks in Gresham Holler...
who saved you from the rope?
You did, Judge.
"Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise."
You, Homer,
when your barn burnt down,
who lent you enough money to build it up again?
You did, Judge.
And I'm right grateful, as you well know.
Pay any of it back yet?
You know I didn't.
We almost starved last winter, as it was.
Objection, Your Honor!
You're intimidating those jurors.
Well, now, Counselor,
they're men of blood and flesh.
You can't blame a man for being partial to his own interests.
Any other points you'd like to raise?
You'll be the first to know if I have any.
What are you doing here?
A message come.
Couldn't be you've mistaken
Judge Greenleaf for me, could it?
Well, that's understandable,
since there is such a marked resemblance.
You think I don't know what's going on around here?
This here's gonna be over and he's gonna be hung
before any downstate book lawyers get here.
Now, get on with it.
There's a federal judge on the way.
Be here by tonight, with the authority
to put Greenleaf where he belongs.
Tonight?
This'll be over in ten minutes.
And Moley never loses any time executing Greenleaf's orders.
Well, then, we'll just have to see
that it is not over in ten minutes.
And just how do you propose to do that?
Prevarication...
procrastination...
and chicanery.
Now, you owe the judge some money,
do you, Mr. Homer?
I do.
How much?
Well, Homer, answer the question.
There's no secret about it.
$112.30.
Now, what would happen if he demanded payment now?
Why, I-I just couldn't pay.
He'd have to take your farm away, wouldn't he?
Well, he... he wouldn't do that.
But he could, couldn't he,
if you crossed him?
Well, he knows I wouldn't be fool enough to do that.
You realize that your rights as a free juror
have been bought
for $112.30?
That's a lot of money, mister.
Yes, it is, Mr. Homer.
It's a lot of money.
Yeah.
Now you can pay him off anytime you want to.
You still feel like voting the way he dictates?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
Now, I have just bought off a juror.
Would you like to make a complaint about it?
Would you like to ask for an investigation
by the state attorney general?
Pretty smart, ain't ya?
Well, go ahead and see what you can do with the rest of them.
It still takes 12 men to send that man of yours home alive.
Just as it takes 12 men to convict him.
Now you, sir. Me?
I like the judge.
You like the way he runs things here?
Well, I got a family here.
I got sense enough to know which side I'm gonna be on.
And that means the side of the stronger.
A man with a wife and kids,
he gotta look out for himself, ain't he?
That's right.
Well, then you just talk to somebody else.
Now, since the only law you seem to understand
is that of brute force, you remember this:
You help hang my client,
and you'll never know where I'll be waiting for you
or when I'll call on you.
And the only choice you've got
is whether you want to face him...
...or me.
Mister, I don't think
there's a court in this free land of ours
that wouldn't call that intimidation of the jury.
Your rules, Judge.
You can't blame a man for being partial to his own interests.
And that is your jury.
Gentlemen of the jury...
citizens, neighbors, friends...
look upon the defendant-
a cringing, shifty-eyed bookworm.
Note, in those prideful features,
the arrogance of a man who thinks himself superior
to us ridge runners,
because he's memorized
one or two more books than the rest of us.
But that ain't what we're here to judge, is it?
No.
What I'm asking...
humbly asking you fine folks to determine
is his complicity and guilt
in the foul murder of our dearly beloved friend...
...the late deputy Tom Chisholm...
...who went to his reward
as a direct result
of this carpetbagger's misuse of his powers.
You men will now retire to deliberate.
All right, let's bring 'em in here!
I ain't got all day!
Your federal judge will get here
just in time to help cut down the body.
I still have a few cards left to play.
The game's just about over.
Silence in the court, on pain of contempt.
This is one of those grand
and solemn moments that brings home
to these flintbusters the awful majesty of the law.
I'm sure.
Will, uh, Dr. Simeon Loving please rise?
Jurors, have you reached your verdict?
We have.
Look at the prisoner.
What say you, then?
Is Dr. Simeon Loving guilty
of the matter whereof he stands indicted,
or not guilty?
Your Honor, one moment.
Before we hear the jury's verdict...
...is our side bet still on?
What's that?
Well, somebody's gonna be hung in this town before nightfall,
either my client or you.
Well, suppose you win.
How you figure on collecting?
I'm gonna let you worry about that.
Moley, you know my rules about guns in the courtroom.
If one man challenges the power of the court,
might as well have no law at all.
Disarm him.
Keep your hand away from that gun, mister.
Now, be silent and listen to the verdict.
And bless your good luck
that I don't hang you right alongside of him.
Your Honor, I have not yet finished defending my client.
Gentlemen of the jury,
before you tell us whether or not Dr. Simeon Loving
is guilty as charged, you might just as well know about this.
As that telegram tells you, Judge Greenleaf
will be in the hands of a federal judge before nightfall,
and you gentlemen will be relieved
of your awful responsibilities as jurors.
Now, if Dr. Loving has withstood your tender mercies until then,
he will be tried in a court of law,
not in a circus.
Think well before you speak, gentlemen.
Think well, indeed.
If Dr. Loving is hanged today,
it may very well be you
who has to account for it tomorrow.
Moley!
You want someone to send for your bag, Doctor?
Fetch my bag.
Anarchy!
Anarchy and insurrection!
To raise that kind of weapon in an American courtroom!
Don't believe anything he says!
He's nothing but a liar and a gunslinger!
As Jefferson says, "The tree of liberty must,
from time to time, be watered with the blood of tyrants."
Now, gentlemen...
what is your verdict?
Wait!
Well, now are you ready to hear the verdict?
No, sir, I am not.
Gentlemen, court dismissed.
¶ "Have gun will travel," reads the card of a man ¶
¶ A knight without armor ¶
¶ In a savage land ¶
¶ His fast gun for hire ¶
¶ Heeds the calling wind ¶
¶ A soldier of fortune is the man called Paladin ¶
¶ Paladin, Paladin ¶
¶ Where do you roam? ¶
¶ Paladin, Paladin, far, far from home. ¶