Original subtitles

His name was J.B. Books,

and he had a matched pair of 45s

with antique ivory grips

that were something to behold...

but he wasn't an outlaw.

Fact is, for a while,

he was a lawman.

Long before I met Mr. Books, he was a famous man.

I guess his fame was why somebody or other

was always after him.

The wild country had taught him to survive.

He lived his life and herded by himself.

He had a credo that went...

I won't be wronged. I won't be insulted.

I won't be laid a hand on.

I don't do these things to other people.

I require the same from them.

You hold it right there.

Give me your wallet.

Take it a little easy with that cannon, mister.

Just throw me your wallet.

Yes, sir,

and a little something extra.

You done murdered me.

No, but you're going to have a long

winter bellyache, you boob.

Give me that wallet.

Just the wallet.

I can hardly move.

You done shot a hole in my stomach.

I appreciate that.

You ain't going to leave me here.

Well, it's quite obvious

that's what you were going to do to me.

Get out of the way.

Mister, you better find yourself another line of work.

This one sure don't fit your pistol.

Hey, mister, want a paper?

Yeah, I will, son.

Queen Victoria's dead.

There you are. Thank you.

Hey!

Hey, you!

Hey, Methuselah,

move that cack out of the way.

Are you talking to me?

Yeah, I'm talking you You dumb bastard.

I said: Move it, or I'll deliver you something

to remember me by.

Well, now, pardon me all to hell.

Giddyup!

Buster.

Try it.

Come on, Jay, the old man ain't worth the bullet.

He looks all tuckered out.

Giddyup.

You're right there, son.

Doc Hostetler.

John Bernard Books.

You remembered.

The newspapers occasionally remind me.

Wh-What was it, 15 years ago?

The only time I was ever hit right here...

at the Acme Saloon.

You killed two men.

I'm damn lucky you were around, Doc.

That second one nearly did me in,

coming out of nowhere like that.

You must have the constitution of an ox.

Well, we'll see.

That's what I'm here for.

Oh?

About 10 days ago in Creede, Colorado,

I hadn't been feeling up to snuff,

so I went to see a sawbones there.

He, uh...

Well, the next day I got on my horse

and took off to find you.

And what did my colleague in Creede say?

Examine me, and I'll tell you.

You don't trust me.

Oh, Doc, you saved my life.

You don't trust my profession.

In my profession, you trust too much,

you don't celebrate many birthdays.

I kind of like it around here.

All right, I'll examine you.

Take your clothes off down to your long johns.

Now, I, uh...

if I'm to know what to look for,

you're gonna have to tell me what's ailing you.

Well, I hurt, Doc,

way down deep in my back.

Not all the time,

but now and then suddenly.

Pain in the lumbar vertebrae?

Like sin.

All right, whenever you get ready,

just... bend over the table there,

trapdoor down.

Well?

Books, every few days

I have to tell a man or a woman

something I don't want to.

I've been practicing medicine for 29 years,

and I still don't know how to do it well.

Why don't you just say it flat out?

All right.

You have a cancer...

advanced.

Is that what that fella up at Creede told you?

Yeah.

And you didn't believe him.

No.

Do you believe me?

Can't you cut it out, Doc?

I'd have to gut you like a fish.

Well, what can you do?

There's... just, uh...

very little I can do.

Uh, if... when the pain gets too bad,

I can give you something.

What you're trying to tell me

is that I...

Yeah.

Damn.

I'm sorry, Books.

You told me I was strong as an ox.

Well, even an ox dies.

How much time do I have?

Two months... six weeks... less.

There's no way to tell.

Well, what can I...

What will I be able to do?

Oh, anything you want at first.

Then, later on, you won't want to.

How much later?

You'll know when.

Now, you'll have to get off your feet

and get some rest.

Have you made any kind of arrangements for a room?

No Doc. I just got in town.

You might try the widow Rogers.

She's got a place down the street a fair piece.

She takes in lodgers.

and she's a nice woman.

She needs the help.

I'll give it a try.

Doc, do me a favor.

Don't tell anybody I'm in town.

Oh, no, but if I wanted to go unnoticed,

I don't think I'd walk around with this thing.

Stole it from a whorehouse in Creede.

Did you?

Hello.

This the Rogers place?

Yeah.

Ma!

You can tell your mother

that a tuckered-out old man needs a room.

Good afternoon, sir.

Afternoon.

Doc Hostetler says you might be able to help me.

How kind of him.

Yes, sir, I have one room available.

Good.

Downstairs in the rear.

$8.00 by the week.

$2.00 per day if you're not permanent.

Well, I'm not permanent, ma'am.

Oh, boy, get my gear and the saddlebags off that horse

and bring them into the house.

Gillom will be happy to do that.

The parlor is yours to use

and the telephone.

My other lodgers have rooms upstairs.

Two railroad men and a schoolteacher.

I'll introduce them at supper.

My kitchen.

And the bathroom.

I thought that's what it was.

We do have running water,

also in the washbowl in here.

Nice-looking brass bed.

I hope it hasn't got any, uh...

It isn't ticky, is it?

It certainly is not.

This is very comfortable.

I'll take my meals right here.

I serve in the dining room.

I'll pay you extra.

Very well, since you're not permanent.

This suit's got a lot of countryside on it.

I'd like to have it brushed before morning.

I'll take those saddlebags.

That bedroll you can leave outside.

I have my things wrapped in it.

They'll need soap and water.

Have you a barn?

No, we don't.

Boy, take my horse over...

My name's Gillom. It's not "boy."

It's Gillom Rogers,

and I don't like being ordered around.

Well, that's fair enough, Gillom Rogers.

Would you be so kind as to take Old Dollar

over to the livery stable

and see that he gets a double order of oats?

O.K.

You seem to be a man

accustomed to giving orders.

I guess it is a bad habit of mine.

I didn't get your name.

I didn't give it.

Is it so important?

For anyone living under my roof, it is.

Well, all right.

It's, uh... Hickok,

William Hickok.

Where do you hail from, Mr. Hickok?

Abilene, Kansas.

And what do you do there?

I'm a U.S. Marshal.

Oh, that's nice.

No, it isn't.

I'm glad you're not staying long, Mr. Hickok.

I'm not sure I like you.

Not many do, Mrs. Rogers.

Moses, where did you hide the whiskey this time?

Third drawer from the left, Gilly boy.

Gilly, fetch me my spectacles.

What the hell are you doing?

You watch your language, boy.

J.B. Books is in my house.

Hey.

My name is Books.

Y'all get that?

Bang!

Boom!

He's in my house.

Ma!

Ma, I got to tell you something.

Shh. Close the door.

What's happened?

Who do you think...

Oh, Gillom, you've been drinking again.

Do you know who he is?

William Hickok...

United States Marshal in Abilene, Kansas.

Ma, Wild Bill Hickok

was shot before I was born.

We got J.B. Books here.

He's killed 30 men.

Gillom, go to your room.

Go on. Go to bed before you wake the house.

Good night, Ma.

Whoo.

Come in.

Mr. Books?

Oh, my clothes.

Thank you, m...

You are J.B. Books.

That's right.

May I ask how you found out?

My son.

I've been up all night because of you.

I demand that you pack and leave.

That is not possible.

And why not?

I don't propose to say.

So you won't go.

No.

And that's your last word?

Mrs. Rogers, you have a fine color

when you're on the scrap.

Central, give me the city marshal's office.

Thank you.

Come in, Marshal.

My name's Thibido,

Marshal Walter Thibido.

I'm told... you are J.B. Books.

You were told right.

Have a seat.

Don't think I will.

Breathe easy, Marshal.

You're closer to your gun than I am to mine.

Books, Carson City's full of hard cases...

Is your head cold?

Huh?

Oh.

Books, Carson City's full of hard cases

who'd sell their souls to put your name on the wall.

You'll draw trouble like an outhouse draws flies.

I checked my bulletins before I come over

and didn't find nothing I can hold you for,

but I want you out of town...

directly, today.

Maybe I'm not so inclined.

Then, by God, I will incline you.

I can badge as many men as I need.

We'll smoke you out or carry you out feet first,

so you say which, Mr. Gunman.

It's your funeral.

Soon, yes.

Huh?

I can't go.

Can't?

I'm going to die right here in this room.

Ha! That's too thin.

I wish you were right.

Would you believe Doc Hostetler?

That's his verdict.

You don't say?

You don't sa... goddamn!

Whoo!

Whooee!

I tell you the truth...

Coming through that door, I was scared.

I know what a man like you is capable of.

I wondered who'd get my job,

if the council would give my wife a pension,

and if it would snow the day they put me under.

Excuse me if I don't pull a long face, I cant.

You talk too much.

Much as I damn please.

How long does Hostetler give you?

He doesn't know. Do me a favor.

I owe you one... or Hostetler.

My being here... maybe that's news,

but dying is my own business.

Keep it under your hat, will you?

All right. Just don't take too long to die.

Be a gent and convenience everybody

and do it soon.

You've worn out your welcome.

Scat.

The day they lay you away,

what I'll do on your grave

won't pass for flowers.

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Sure you're all right?

If there's anything

I can do for you, just let me know.

It's an honor to have you in this house.

Your mother doesn't agree.

She doesn't know how a man feels.

You're the most famous person ever in this town.

When I was a boy,

I heard about your shootout at the Acme Saloon.

I never thought I'd meet you.

There's more to being a man

than handling a gun.

Don't you have something to do?

I was just headed over to Cobb's Creamery right now.

I help Jay with deliveries sometimes.

That was the nice gentleman

you were with yesterday.

Where's your mother?

She's in the kitchen, I think.

Well, goodbye, sir.

It was real nice meeting you.

Good-bye.

Mrs. Rogers, I, uh... hope you'll forgive me

for taking Hickok's name.

I thought it was pretty funny at the time,

but after reflection...

it wasn't such a joke, and I apologize.

You should.

The only way you can show your repentance

is to leave.

Well, that I cannot do.

Mr. Books, you are a notorious individual

utterly lacking in character or decency.

You're an assassin.

That's according to which end of the gun you're on.

You lied to me, made a fool of me.

This house is all I have.

If my lodgers find out who you are,

they'll leave.

I have a cancer.

I'm dying of it.

I know what you'll be thinking...

That I'll be a lot of trouble.

Well, I won't.

You just bring me my meals,

and I'll see to the other needs.

I promise you I won't be a burden.

Mrs. Rogers, I'm in a kind of a tight...

I'll make it worth your while.

I can pay $4.00 a day for the room.

Oh, Mr. Books.

Most pleased to meet you, sir, and honored.

What did you want to see me about?

The name is Dan Dobkins.

I'm with The Morning Appeal.

Mr. Dobkins, sit down.

Thank you.

Um...

we ran the story this morning

that you were here at Mrs. Rogers'

and enjoying our salubrious winter climate

and so on and so forth.

Have you seen it?

No.

It's page one, I assure you.

I bought your paper when I arrived.

Still reading about Queen Victoria dying.

Oh.

What can I do for you?

That's what I came to discuss.

Well, that's what I figured.

You must appreciate, sir,

that you are the most celebrated shootist extant.

Extant?

Uh, still existing,

alive.

Thank you.

Yes, and your reputation is nationwide.

My story went out over the wires this morning.

Every daily of consequence will run it,

but they'll want more,

the papers in the East, in particular.

Between us, Mr. Books,

we can really put Carson City on the map.

Mr. Dobkins, you're going the long way around the barn.

Yes, sir.

I would like tremendously

to do a series of stories on you.

A series?

Yes. Uh, how long will you be with us?

Not as long as I'd like to be.

Oh, well, we could start today, right now,

then get together again tomorrow.

You see,

there's been so much cheap fiction about gunmen.

I want to get down to the true story for once,

while you're available,

before anything happens to you.

I mean, I hope nothing does.

Go on.

I want to cover your career factually.

The statistics, you might say.

Then I'd delve into the psychological aspects...

What turned you to violence in the first place?

Are you by nature bloodthirsty?

Uh, do you, uh, brood after the deed is done,

or have you lived so long with death

that you're used to it? The death of others?

The prospect of your own?

Make like that's a nipple.

One fit or fidget

and Mrs. Rogers is going to be scrubbing your brains

off the wallpaper.

On your feet.

Back up.

Now, we're heading for the front door.

Now, don't you shake, shiver, or sneeze.

Mr. Books, what in heaven's name are you doing?

Ma'am, we have a touchy situation here.

Out.

Turn around.

Mmm.

Turn around.

Bend over.

Yes, sir.

Dobkins, you are a prying, pipsqueaking ass,

and if you ever come dandying around here again...

That was a savage thing to do.

Maybe...

Mr. Books?

I'll tend myself.

First things first, Doc.

I almost forgot to ask you.

How much do I owe you?

You're a man after my own heart, Books.

Most of them ask that last, if at all.

Well, let's see.

We'll make it $4.00 for the two visits

plus $1.00 for that.

What's that?

They call that laudanum,

a solution of opium and alcohol.

Opium, that can get to be a habit.

Why, absolutely, an addiction.

How does it taste?

Just... just awful, terrible,

but it's the most potent painkiller we've got.

How much of it do I take?

Well, as much as you need when you need it.

I think a spoonful

would be all right to start with.

Later?

I don't know,

but I... I think one morning

you're just going to wake up and say,

"Here I am in this bed, and here I'm going to stay."

Hostetler, I want to know.

Well, unless you insist,

I'd rather not talk about it.

Well, I want to know.

All right.

There'll be an increase

in the severity of the pain

in your lower spine, your hips, your groin.

You...

Do you... Do you want me to go on?

The pain will become unbearable.

Uh, no drug will moderate it.

If you're lucky, you'll lose consciousness,

and until then, you'll scream.

L- I... I'm sorry.

I... I didn't mean to be specific like this.

The next time, I'll go to Mrs. Rogers.

You... You... You just telephone.

You just telephone.

There... There's one more thing I'd say.

Both of us have had a lot to do with death.

I'm not a brave man, but you must be.

Ah.

Now-now-now, this is not advice.

It's not even a suggestion.

It's just something for you to reflect on

while your mind's still clear.

What?

I would not die a death like I just described.

No?

Not if I had your courage.

Oh.

Thanks.

Come in, Mrs. Rogers.

Oh, Mr. Books, I...

I'm beginning to know your knock.

I was reading about old Queen Vic.

Well, maybe she outlived her time.

Maybe she was a museum piece,

but she never lost her dignity

nor sold her guns.

She hung on to her pride and went out in style.

That's the kind of an old gal I'd like to meet.

Mrs. Rogers, are you afraid of me?

Well, to be frank, yes.

Why?

All these guns and the kind of man you are.

Maybe you're afraid of too many things.

Sometimes widows are,

but I'm sure there's plenty of starch in your corset.

Mr. Books, I came here to see what you can eat,

if you can have what I'm serving.

No, you didn't.

I wish you'd stop contradicting me.

I wish you'd say what you mean.

Very well.

I apologize for the unchristian things

I've said and done.

I'm sorry, and I'll do whatever I can for you.

Well, thank you. I...

All my life, I've been too proud

to take help from anyone.

Guess I'll have to learn.

Would you, uh...

sit down for a moment?

Please do.

What's that?

Laudanum.

Doc Hostetler's remedy.

That's habit-forming, isn't it?

Mrs. Rogers, would you go for a drive

in the country with me tomorrow?

Oh, I... I couldn't, but thank you.

I wish you'd reconsider.

It would only be for an hour or two.

No. I appreciate the invitation, but no.

Is it that you don't want to be alone with me?

It's not that, I assure you.

It's just that I've only been a widow for a year.

People would...

People!

If I have to work on your sympathy, I will.

I want to go out in the world again

and see trees, lakes, hills, and the sky.

And I don't fancy seeing it alone.

I've been full of alone lately.

I'm sorry.

Besides, there's a threat of snow in the air.

Since I moved in here,

we've been scratching at each other

and apologizing.

Well, let's see if we can't do better.

Damn it. I wish to hell you'd ride with me.

I apologize for my language.

I'll go with you.

Good.

Tomorrow at 10:00?

Will you get, please, Mr. Gillom Rogers

to trot down to the stable

and get us the best horse and buggy they have?

I will.

I'm much obliged, ma'am.

Good evening.

Deuce is the dead card.

8 is your winner,

and the lovely queen, the loser.

Hellfire!

That makes seven turnovers in a row.

Pulford, J.B. Books over at Mrs. Rogers.

That was yesterday's news.

But I just heard he's dying.

Dying?

Friend of mine got it from Marshal Thibido.

Old Books is cashing in.

That's hard news.

That's a man I could have taken.

Ha!

My ass.

You have two ways

of leaving this establishment, my friend...

Immediately or dead.

Gentlemen, place your bets.

Place your bets, gentlemen.

Look out!

43...

44...

45...

46...

47... 48.

Clean through the heart!

Hey, Pulford!

Over 80 feet!

- Hooray! - Hooray!

Oh, mighty handsome, ma'am.

Moses had to dust this buggy off.

He says he don't rent it too often.

Doesn't.

Except just for funerals.

Well, thank you, Gillom.

I appreciate this.

I want that wood chopped by the time we get back.

Oh, Ma, I was going to go on...

Yes, ma'am.

Hyah.

That is beauty.

It is a little chilly up here.

Would you like the top raised?

No, thank you.

You all right?

I will be in a minute.

Can I help you?

I've had plenty of practice.

Why don't you get married again?

What?

I think you heard me.

That's none of your affair.

I haven't time to be polite, Mrs. Rogers.

Well, for one thing, I haven't been asked.

For another, I loved my husband

and still do.

How did he die?

Stroke, they think.

They found him slumped at his desk.

He was lucky.

He was 41.

Did he have time to, uh...

Did he leave you any security?

I have the property and the house,

which he built with a bank loan,

and Gillom.

And he worries you.

Yeah, he certainly does,

particularly when he complains about being bored

and needing excitement.

Well, I wouldn't be too hard on him.

Every young man feels the need

to let the badger loose now and again.

I try to reason with him. I can't.

I can only mother him.

That's not what he wants.

Like I said, that you can change.

Don't you have enough worries of your own?

A few, but in general,

I've had a hell of a good time.

Tell me, um...

what does the J.B. Stand for?

John Bernard.

And yours?

Bond.

That's a crackerjack of a name for a woman.

How do you do, Bond?

How do you do, John Bernard?

Shall we?

Hyah!

Good morning, Mrs. Rogers!

Mr. Sweeney.

Mike Sweeney?

John Bernard Books,

now, I'm flattered that you remembered me.

You live around here now?

My spread's in the foothills to the west.

Well, you look just like I remember the Sweeneys...

mean and ugly.

Well, I heard that you were in town

for a very short time.

That's true.

Drop by.

We'll talk about old times.

The good old times.

Ha ha ha!

You can bring your fancy pillow,

and your landlady is welcome, too.

Now, my problem is

that she never accepts my invitation,

and to you two, I say good-bye.

I'm surprised at the company you keep.

That man is no friend. Quite the reverse.

How do you know him?

I don't. I had some dealings

with his brother Albert once.

What happened?

Oh.

That's what worries me, John Bernard...

the thought of your victims.

What worried me was survival.

Bond, I don't believe I ever killed a man

that didn't deserve it.

Surely, only the Lord can judge that.

Mr. Books!

Mr. Books?

Sir?

Are you hurt?

No.

But they are.

Call the marshal.

He got both of them.

They came in through the windows... guns blazing.

Close your robe.

He's so damn fast, he killed them both.

John Bernard Books in a shootout right here.

Son of a bitch!

I will not have that language in my house.

Sorry, but this is a great day.

Our house is a part of history.

You've got to know that.

That's nothing to be proud of.

I love that old man.

Gillom! All right!

It's time you knew.

He's dying.

Who?

Mr. Books.

I don't believe it.

He has a cancer.

You're lying.

He would have told me.

But he didn't tell you!

He told me.

He's dying.

Ma.

Ma.

You do understand?

That's the last of it.

Thank you, Mr. Hutchins.

My position as a teacher,

as a maiden lady,

I'm obliged to move to another place.

Of course. I apologize.

We're ready to go!

Bye.

Some coffee?

Don't mind if I do.

Did you know those two?

Nope.

They sure knew you.

Who were they?

Ben Shoup, the one you killed

trying to get out the window.

The other named Norton...

Two no-goods, not from around here.

I've never heard of them.

Quite a night.

Your bedroom looks like a slaughterhouse.

Oh, Mrs. Rogers.

I'll post a man outside nights.

That'll cost the taxpayers $3.00 a night

and $10 apiece to plant two corpses.

Death and taxes, Books.

Keeping you alive to die natural

is costing us a pretty penny.

There's no need of any man outside.

I'd appreciate that, Marshal.

Thank you.

I... I can't tell you how sorry I am

about what happened last night.

That won't help.

Two men are dead.

I was defending myself.

How are you feeling,

a little more poorly every day?

You've got a streak of kindness a mile wide.

That I do. Tell you what...

Maybe I can help speed things along.

Did you read about the shooting the night before last?

No.

Whooee! That was some shooting.

Pulford, he's the faro dealer,

got off one round under fire,

straight through the heart,

and it measured 84'3".

Maybe I'll just send him here,

let him deal you a little faro.

You do that, Marshal.

This is 19-aught-1.

The old days are gone. You don't know it.

We've got waterworks, telephones, lights.

We'll have our streetcar electrified by next year,

and we've started to pave the streets.

We've still got some weeding to do.

Once we're rid of people like you,

we'll have a goddamn Garden of Eden here.

To put it in a nutshell,

you've plain plumb outlived your time.

to put it in a nutshell? You couldn't put a barrel without a bottom

You're the longest-winded bastard I ever listened to.

I may be windy, but I ain't ornery.

When my time comes to die,

I won't drag it out. I'll just do it.

Why don't you?

Thibido...

I don't scare anymore.

Neither did Shoup or Norton.

You wouldn't gun down a police officer.

What'd stop me, fear of dying?

# John Bernard Books #

# Lies amolderin' in his grave #

# John Bernard Books #

# Lies amolderin' in his grave #

# John Bernard Books #

# Lies amolderin' in his grave #

# But his horse keeps #

# Gallopin' on # #

Moses?

Would you care to do business

with a voice from the grave?

Mr. Books!

It's pure pleasure to groom your horse!

And even a greater pleasure

to do business with you!

Would you kindly step into my office?

It'll be a pleasure.

Right this way, please.

Yes, sir.

Now, let me see

where I put my spectacles

because I wouldn't want to make no, uh...

financial mistake.

Yes, sir.

Here they are, Mr. Books.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

$100.

That's a lot of money, Moses.

Who do I have... What's this for?

What's it for? For your horse.

My horse? I want to sell my horse,

but this wouldn't buy my saddle.

But, Mr. Books, you done agreed.

When?

When you sent Gilly...

I mean, when Mr. Rogers said this morning

$100 would be just fine with you.

I'll have to have a talk with Mr. Rogers.

As far as the horse goes, it's 3.

300?

300.

I might maybe can go 200.

You might maybe go more than that

'cause you'll get more than that 'cause it's mine.

3.

250.

3, and I'll throw the saddle in for cash.

What about my bill?

You throw that in.

I ain't made of money.

Are we going to stand here and haggle all day?

Mr. Books, you the most famous man I ever seen

and the second-best haggler.

Who's the best?

Here I stand.

Well, let's get to haggling.

Let's get to haggling. All right.

Let's get to haggling.

1, 2, 3, 4.

That's 200. 200.

200 there.

20, 40, 60, 80, 90, 295.

No.

296?

No.

97?

98?

Sold.

You mean I did it?

Mr. Books, that makes me the best haggler!

The best in the world, Moses.

Yes, sir.

Gillom!

Gillom!

Where's Gillom?

In the woodshed.

That's appropriate.

Why?

You stay out of this.

Gillom!

I'm in here.

You'll account to me.

Sir?

You were trying to cheat me,

and Moses was trying to cheat you.

I'm sorry.

I'm glad of that, but it doesn't...

it doesn't tell me very much.

She, uh...

She cried on my shoulder this morning

on account of you.

I had to comfort her.

And then the lodgers moved out.

Your room is a mess...

and now Ma's worried about losing the house.

Well, I just thought that...

that maybe you might want to do something

to try and make it up to her.

I thought you might be interested

in selling your horse since you're...

Since I'm what?

You're dying.

How did you find that out?

Ma told me.

Guess I'm the last one in town to know about it.

Don't you think you should have talked to me

before you tried to sell my horse?

Yes, sir.

I suppose.

But I just wanted to see first

if Moses would buy it, that's all.

I'm not a horse thief.

A man's emotions can...

tangle him all up sometimes.

I've been operating on the raw edge lately, Gillom.

Guess I just jumped too far too fast.

But, son, I never thought you were a horse thief.

And I hope I can hang around long enough

to make it up to you.

Sir...

do you think...

Would you give me a shooting lesson?

A shooting lesson?

Well, a man should know how to handle a gun,

use it with discretion.

But, uh...

you going to tell your mother?

Well... do I have to?

Come on, I'll get us something to shoot with.

It's beautiful.

See that tree on the left

with the divided trunk?

You take the right side.

Aim well and put five slugs in it.

Why not six?

You keep your hammer on an empty chamber for safety.

And if you're going out to face somebody?

Load six if your insides tells you to.

Now, take your time.

That's good shooting, Gillom.

Hey, Mr. Books,

my spread's not much bigger than yours.

You did well.

Where did you learn to shoot like that?

Jay Cobb lets me practice with him by the lake...

when he's not in jail.

Day before yesterday, he smashed some salesman's jaw.

Nice employer you have.

Well, it's just temporary...

till I find whatever's right for me.

Yeah.

Wouldn't I like to see

him and Jack Pulford go at it.

Did you hear about what Pulford did?

I did.

Mr. Books.

Yeah?

How did you ever kill so many men?

I lived most of my life in the wild country,

and you set a code of laws to live by.

What laws?

I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted,

I won't be laid a hand on.

I don't do these things to other people,

and I require the same from them.

But how could you get into so many fights

and always come out on top?

I nearly tied you shooting.

There's nobody up there shooting back at you.

It isn't always being fast

or even accurate that counts.

It's being willing.

I found out early that most men,

regardless of cause or need,

aren't willing.

They blink an eye or draw a breath

before they pull the trigger.

I won't.

Bat Masterson told Cobb...

Bat Masterson?

Yeah.

He says that a man has to have, uh...

guts, deliberation, and a proficiency with firearms.

Did he mention that third eye you better have?

Third eye?

For that dumb-ass amateur.

It's usually some six-fingered bustard

that couldn't hit a cow in the tit

with a tin cup

that does you in.

But then, Bat Masterson

always was full of sheep dip.

Whoa. I hope you're smart enough to know

that that who hit John don't go with guns.

Oh, sure. Yes, sir.

Well, now that we got that cleared up...

as my Mexican friend said,

"To the pure life."

Johnny?

Yes?

May I come in?

Don't... Don't you remember me?

Serepta?

Oh.

Sera, I can't tell you how happy I am you're here.

I came the minute I heard.

Have I changed so much?

No, it's... just been a long time.

It isn't true, is it?

God, how I loved you.

And I loved you.

Is it true?

Oh, no.

Aw, don't cry, Sera.

We all have our time.

I must look a sight.

For sore eyes.

You still with Pardee?

No. He treated me the way I did you.

He just up and skipped.

We should have married.

Spilt milk.

You never did, huh?

No.

Now you're alone. I'm so glad I'm here.

So am I.

Would you still like to?

We could get a minister and just say I do.

That way, I'd have the certificate.

I'd have something to go on.

Not much.

I'd have your name.

How far would that take you?

Long ways, maybe.

How?

Johnny, you're too modest, you know?

Everybody knows who you are.

I'd be Mrs. J.B. Books.

I'd be somebody.

That wouldn't buy you any bacon.

Well, it might.

See, that's how come I knew that you had...

that-that you was ailing bad.

This newspaper reporter here tracked me down.

He wants to put out a book on you.

He'll write it and use my name.

The Shootist...

The Life and Bloody Times ofJ.B. Books

by Serepta Books, his wife.

He said in the East

that it would sell like hot cakes

and he'd split it with me.

And his name is Dobkins.

Right. How did you know?

I kicked him out of here for the same reason.

Johnny, what harm is there

in a marriage certificate, a piece of paper?

I don't object to that. It's the book.

Why?

What does he know about my life?

What do you know?

He says what he doesn't know, he'll make up,

and, you know, gory things,

shoot-'em-ups and midnight rides

and women tearing out their hair.

It will be a corker, I promise you.

Woman, I still have some pride.

A man should be allowed his human dignity.

I spent $3.00 on the train here.

One-way.

You and Dobkins are two sides of a counterfeit coin.

I'll pay you back.

I'll pay you both ways.

What's wrong about a book?

I'll not be remembered for a pack of lies.

'Cause you're too damn mule mean, that's why.

You always was.

Why should you care what's happening? You're dying.

I have to go on living,

and you don't give a hoot in hell what happens!

Why should you? You won't be here!

God. And I loved you once.

You bastard.

May you rot to death!

# 'Twas blighted affection #

# That made him exclaim #

# Oh, willow tit-willow #

# Tit-willow #

# And if you remain callous #

# And obdurate, I #

# Shall perish as he did #

# And you will know why #

# Though I probably shall not exclaim #

# As I die #

# Oh, willow #

# Tit-willow #

# Tit-willow says I #

You seem in fine fettle today.

I should be. I'm full of laudanum.

I'll get your breakfast.

Good. Thank you.

I didn't mean to break up the recital.

Oh, that's all right.

It was just something

for the Sunday School class

for the church social.

Bond, uh, I've driven off all your other lodgers.

Is it all right if I have breakfast out here?

Of course it is.

I was delighted to see you had a lady caller yesterday.

She asked me not to announce her.

She said she wanted to surprise you.

Were you surprised?

That I was.

Oh, these clothes, uh...

they're my Sunday-go-to-meetings.

I wish you'd give them a good brushing.

Certainly.

They're getting pretty roady.

Nine days on the back of a saddle

in a bedroll.

Wouldn't you rather have them cleaned?

That's the general idea.

I mean there's a new method

called dry-process cleaning.

It's very good.

How long does it take?

They advertise next-day service,

but tomorrow's Sunday.

I'm afraid I'll have to settle for the brushing

'cause I'll need them first thing Monday morning.

I'll ask. If I can't get them by then,

I'll brush them.

I'll get your ham and eggs.

Just biscuits will do.

My stomach's kind of feeble today.

Oh. You sure

you won't want these for church tomorrow?

I don't think so.

You're most welcome to accompany Gillom and me.

Maybe your church won't welcome me.

That's a terrible thing to say.

Doors of the church are open to everyone.

Well, my church has been the mountains and solitude.

No doors at all.

That's hardly the same thing.

We all need a minister to guide us.

Well, if you think of it,

give a thought to my soul tomorrow.

I will. I have been praying for you.

I think Gillom has, too.

Thank you. Thank you both.

Tell me, um...

what did he do yesterday that made you so angry?

It isn't what he did.

It's what he didn't do.

We have that straightened out.

You should be proud of Gillom.

He has the making of something special.

I hope so.

I'm going to send Reverend Saunders

to see you tomorrow.

No, thank you.

Maybe it'll make it easier for you.

No.

Just for a few minutes.

Bond, I'm tired of people pawing over my death

for this reason or that or for any reason.

A man's death is about the most private thing

in his life.

It doesn't belong to Dobkins or Reverend Saunders

or Thibido or you.

It's mine.

I suppose that's true of your soul, too.

My soul is what I've already made of it.

You reprimand me for making judgments

with a gun barrel poked in my face,

but it's all right for you to judge me on hearsay.

But the hearsay fits.

Maybe I'm better than you've already decided.

Maybe I'm no worse than that good reverend.

Maybe you like being a gunman.

You probably prefer the word shootist.

I don't think of myself as either.

Oh, no. You're some godlike creature

of infinite knowledge, aren't you?

I'm a dying man scared of the dark.

Damn you! Damn you for the pain you've brought

into this house.

There we are, sir.

Mr. Books.

Yes, sir?

I'm Hezekiah Beckum, the undertaker, sir.

How do you do?

I hope you don't think my stopping by

is untimely, sir.

No, I admire a man with get-up-and-go.

As the saying goes in our profession,

the early worm gets the bird.

I, uh, admit to having heard some unfortunate things.

I'd like to express my heartfelt regret.

All right. What's your proposition?

I'm prepared to offer you embalming

by the most, uh, scientific methods,

a bronze coffin guaranteed good for a century

regardless of the climatic

or geological conditions,

my best hearse,

uh, the minister of your choice,

and the presence of at least, uh, two mourners...

a headstone of the finest Carrera marble...

and a plot in size and location

befitting your status, sir...

and perpetual care of the grounds.

For how much?

Why, nothing, sir. For the privilege.

No, I mean how much will you make on the deal?

Oh, Beckum, you're going to do to me

what they did to John Wesley Hardin.

You're going to lay me out,

let the public gawp at me for 50 cents a head,

10 cents for the children.

When the curiosity peters out,

you'll stick me in a hole

while you hurry to the bank with your loot.

I assure you...

Give me a scrap of paper and a pencil.

You assure me? What good's your assurance

when my veins are filled with your damn juice?

No. Here's what you're going to do.

First you're going to give me $50 cash.

Then early Monday morning,

you'll bring me a headstone.

I want a small headstone with this written on it.

Nothing else.

No jabbery, no angels. You got that?

Mr. Books, you're a hard man.

I'm alive.

Ah, very well.

I'll set my stonecutter

to work on the inscription immediately.

Mr. Beckum.

The $50.

Oh. Hmm.

Thank you, sir.

Early worm, early worm.

That Beckum is just what you say he is.

Well... now, how much do I owe you?

Not one bitty penny, Mr. Books.

Why, to watch that performance you done give,

I'd have paid $ 10 in a theater.

Well, I may just accept your generosity.

Besides, I may just see if Beckum

would like to buy some of J.B. Books' hair.

With your permission.

Permission granted.

Good day, sir.

What the hell?

And the third man's name is...

Mike Sweeney. Do you know him?

Sure, I do. He's got one of those horseless carriages.

And now for the favor I'm going to ask you.

You just tell me, sir. Anything at all.

Don't dive in till you know how deep it is.

Today's the 27th, isn't it?

Yes, sir.

Now, that's Jack Pulford, Jay Cobb, and Mike Sweeney.

Tomorrow morning early,

I want you to go to each one of them and tell them

that I'll be at the Metropole

at 11 A.M. On Monday the 29th,

and don't tell any of them that you've told the others.

Cobb's still in jail.

Yeah, well, tell him anyway.

Think you can do that for me?

Well, I know I can,

but, uh, Ma's going to have conniptions

if I don't go to church in the morning.

You can go to church first.

I telephoned Moses.

You can ride Old Dollar out to the Sweeney spread.

Yes, sir.

Thank you and...

and good night.

Son of a bitch.

Don't cuss.

Yes, sir.

You know that kind of music gets on my nerves,

especially on Sunday.

Sorry.

Ma, are you angry at Mr. Books?

Why? What did he say?

Nothing. It's just...

Ma, I'm sorry.

I got to go run some errands for Mr. Books.

I promised him.

Gillom.

Gillom.

I'll be back soon. Soon as I can.

Oh! Oh!

What happened? Are you all right?

I slipped in the tub.

Let me help you.

Hell.

Come on, now. Hang on to me. That's it.

Now sit on the edge of the tub.

I'll get you another towel.

Damn!

John Bernard, you swear too much.

The hell I do.

Put your arm around my shoulder.

Why didn't you ask me to help you

in the first place?

I couldn't.

Why not?

I promised you I wouldn't be a burden.

But you are, so let's just forget about that.

I sure as hell am.

Oh, let me sit down.

Oh, sit down for a minute while I catch my breath.

Oh...

well, we finally made it through a full day

without having a fight.

Well, we haven't seen each other all day.

You're right there.

You know, Bond,

you're such a real lady on the outside.

You're full of vim and vinegar on the inside.

I just never met anybody like you.

You're running low.

I better call Dr. Hostetler and order some more.

No. This'll do.

Oh.

That Morning Appeal.

I've skimmed newspapers all my life.

Never got the whole good out of one.

I bought this the day I arrived,

and I said to myself,

"I'm going to read every word, and when I'm done,

"I'll know for a fact exactly what happened

on January 22nd in the year 1901."

It was an important day in my life,

and now I know.

Would you do me a favor

and give this honorable incineration in my stove?

You're getting ready to do something.

What makes you say that?

This...

dry cleaning...

laudanum...

haircut.

I want you to promise me something.

Tomorrow when you see me in all my dry-cleaning splendor

and my Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes,

I want you to promise there'll be no questions...

no surmises, no woman's intuition.

All curiosity stops right here and now.

Promise me?

And no tears, Bond.

Mr. Books!

In here, Gillom.

Oh, so I see.

No, you don't see.

I was helping Mr. Books out of the bathtub.

What?

You must be hungry.

No, Ma. I'm fine.

I promise.

Thank you.

Well, sir, I got it done.

Good. How'd you get along with Old Dollar?

Oh, he's a great horse.

You should've seen the look on Marshal Thibido's face

when I rode up to the jail.

He must've thought I was you coming to bust Cobb out.

Hardly me.

Which is just about what I did do

'cause Thibido's going to let Cobb out

long enough to meet you.

Good.

You'll never guess how Cobb took that.

I bet he jumped with joy.

He got all white, scared to death.

Oh?

Now, Pulford was happy.

He really respects you. He told me so.

And he sure was polite. He said, uh,

"I eagerly await the honor... and the privilege

of having him try his luck at my faro table."

We'll have to give it a try.

Now, how about the other fella... Sweeney?

You watch out for him, Mr. Books.

That man is mean, and he hates you.

Well, we'll see if we can't clear that up tomorrow.

Sir, what's...

Thank you. We both ought to get some sleep.

Can I ask you something?

I'm tuckered out. We'll talk tomorrow.

But I have to be out before sunup,

do the milk deliveries while Cobb's in jail.

Then we'll both have a busy morning.

Before you go...

there's something I want to give you.

No, sir. No. I won't take pay.

And I wouldn't offer it, Gillom.

But you like Old Dollar, don't you?

Best horse I ever rode.

Well, he's yours. I bought him back.

Here's the bill of sale.

Now let me get some sleep.

Sir?

Yeah?

When you asked me to do this,

I- I didn't realize...

and... and I just hope that nothing...

Just take good care of Old Dollar.

Good night, sir.

Come in.

We got the headstone. Mr. Beckum...

Good. Just put it there on the bed.

Beckum said as how he done the best he could,

but there weren't much time.

Yeah, well, that'll be all right.

Well, I'll be goldarned,

if they ain't gone and left the date off.

That'll be all right.

Yes, sir.

Thank you.

Early for you, ain't it?

Yeah, well, I'm expecting somebody.

Bring me a cup of coffee, will you, Murray?

Sure.

John Bernard?

Oh.

How grand you look.

Thank you, Bond.

That dry-process cleaning is very good, isn't it?

Yeah, but it's kind of smelly.

Well, that's the naphtha.

Oh, this is my birthday.

I, uh, haven't been to a saloon for a long time,

and I thought I'd get a drink and celebrate.

Happy birthday.

Thank you.

You have a beautiful day for it.

It's what we call false spring.

Good-bye, Mrs. Rogers.

Good-bye, Mr. Books.

Well, boy, here's your big chance.

Fame and fortune awaits.

After I put that old man out of his misery,

I'm going to get you.

Sure, you will.

Don't wet your pants.

Marshal Thibido! May I see you for a moment?

What's going on?

Shh! Dobkins, this is law business,

not newspaper business.

Adolph S. Ochs is the publisher of the New York Times.

He's asked me for an article

on how city officials are reacting

to the presence of our famous shootist.

I was thinking of doing a series of stories on you.

Whooee. Let's get the hell off the street.

You tell them that's Thibido with an "H."

Good morning.

Good morning, Mr. Books.

You don't give a fella very long to board this thing.

Got a schedule to keep.

Good morning.

Good morning, sir.

Isn't it a beautiful day?

It sure is.

It's what we call a false spring.

Yes, sir?

Glass.

Mr. Sweeney...

care to try your luck?

Hmm.

Hmm.

Whoa!

Friend... for you.

What?

Make you a little more comfortable.

Well, sir, these old bones surely thank you.

I sure hope the right fella comes along.

Good morning, sir.

Good morning.

This is my birthday.

Give me the best in the house.

Yes, sir.

Thank you, sir.

And I'll tell you that was for Albert!

Look out!