Original subtitles

Marshal Cook.

Who's there?

Declare yourself or I'll shoot!

Looks like he was already shot.

Let's get him in the barn.

I'm coming!

Can I help you gentlemen?

I believe I got a bullet in my arm.

Come inside.

Good God.

Your name Elijah?

Like the prophet?

Yes, sir.

Elijah Graham.

That's a damn good sign.

I meant the one you got hanging out front.

Got your name on it.

Frank Griffin.

I know who you are, mister.

I know who you all are.

So, tell me, Elijah...

has my arm come off yet?

There's no saving it.

It's a miracle it didn't fall off on the ride in.

Well, then...

you best go on.

Take it.

Don't worry none.

These boys ain't gonna blame you I get dealt out.

I've seen my death.

This ain't it.

That's lightening, fool!

You gonna get bit!

I just want to see what it feels like.

You can bet old Roy Goode's gonna pay for that arm.

Hello?

Is anybody there?

For crying out loud.

Goddamn waste of my time.

What are you doing?

I said wait until sundown.

Yeah, well, I'm through with your witchy nonsense. It ain't working.

My witchy nonsense takes time.

No, it's wishful thinking is what it is.

I don't got none of that in me no more.

You lost your shadow, Bill.

Nothing more dangerous than a man who lost his shadow.

And why is that?

He's got nothing more to lose.

Thank you, Doc.

I hope I can do the same for you sometime.

Daisies.

Bluebonnet.

Primrose.

I can see just fine.

Well, sweetheart,

I'm sorry to say that I ain't kept a'one of my promises.

With the exception of our children...

I've been a failure at just about everything.

And now...

And now it seems my twilight's come home, and...

I didn't even hear it knocking.

I guess that's the one advantage to being where you are.

You never got to feel yourself get old or... useless

in the eyes of everyone who looks at you.

Hell...

in my mind, you're...

you're still 18 and giving me those kisses that used to untie my shoelaces.

You would think, living in a town full of nothing but women,

I wouldn't be so damn lonely.

I guess we should talk some about our little Trudy.

She and I, well, we've been having some trouble.

You know, it ain't that I don't love her, exactly.

It's just...

well, I can't seem to forgive her for what she done to you.

Maybe tonight...

you'll come and...

give me some advice in that direction.

Welcome home, coward.

You best stay down there a minute and collect yourself.

What's your name, mister?

We don't get many riders come along in the middle of the night.

And the ones we do get only want trouble.

I'm Alice Fletcher.

This is my son, Truckee.

Man can't speak as yet.

No doubt on account of you shooting him in the throat.

I thought for sure you was dead.

"Were" dead, not "was."

You gonna say hello?

Well, what's the difference?

She can't understand a word I say.

Plenty of ways to say hello don't involve words.

Where's William?

School.

It's Monday.

Them Albert's britches you got on?

Not anymore.

Are you wearing his hat, too?

And his rig.

You want to tell me why?

Someone's got to look after things around here.

Well, you look ridiculous.

You ever worn a dress, Bill?

No,

and neither do I intend to.

Well, you ought to.

You ought to, right now, put on a dress.

Put on a damn corset while you're at it.

Did I miss anything?

Fitch brothers come through here last week,

all three of them.

Started shooting off their pistols,

wreaking general havoc inside the saloon.

Barney Mutz took care of it with some help from Whitey.

Well, all right, then.

Of course, Barney did express a general sense of wonderment,

I think felt by all,

as to where the damn sheriff was off to this time.

Don't worry, your little secret's safe with me.

Although it's getting harder and harder to keep.

Well, at least tell me,

was that old Paiute warlock any use or not?

He jammed cold, stinking mud in my eyes

and soaked me in some hot springs they had bubbling near their camp.

That do anything?

Yeah, made me feel like a darn fool is what it did.

About all I came away with was a raging erection and an angry demeanor.

I'm sorry I asked.

Say goodbye to Aunt Maggie, sweet pea.

You talk to the widow on your way in?

Which widow would that be?

The one you're so blame fool in love with, Alice Fletcher.

Word is, the Paiutes brung her a whole herd of Mexican horseflesh.

So?

So I thought maybe you would ask her if she would sell some to the town...

seeing as we sold off everything on four legs.

-I told you you would regret that. -And you were right, as always.

Fact remains, we need horses.

Yeah? And how ya'll aim to pay her?

Man from Quicksilver Syndicate's coming to town next week.

He's offering a $10,000 down payment on the claim.

What, you all made a deal?

We're in the throes.

She must have 50 horses up there.

Yeah, well, you know how she feels about you.

That's why I thought you would ask.

Folks...

how about it?

You all been baptized?

You all wash your bodies once a week?

Have you committed adultery, ma'am?

Have you betrayed your brother, sir?

Do you preside in your family as a servant of God?

You all know I don't want to ever come back here

and burn this house of the Lord down to the ground.

So, let's all bow our heads and pray...

that Roy Goode don't never show up here.

But that if he does...

none of you well-meaning souls...

take him in.

Unless you want to suffer...

like our Lord Jesus suffered for all of us.

Amen.

"Boats sail on rivers

and ships sail on seas,

but clouds that sail across the sky are p--...

pr--"

-"Prettier." -"...prettier than these."

Very good.

Now, get yourself to bed.

Mister?

Excuse me.

Is that your name?

Roy Goode?

And this...

Lucy Cole...

is she someone might be worried about you?

Jim Goode.

He a relation?

You've not read it.

Just like to know who's lying here in my barn.

You can't stay here much longer.

I don't have enough to feed you, and even if I did, I don't know you.

So as soon as you're well enough, I'm gonna ask you to leave.

You're lucky there wasn't more of a moon the other night.

I was aiming higher.

Roy Goode!

Keep your eyes open, boys. He could still be about.

Must have been hard for Roy to put him down like that.

He couldn't have gotten far on foot.

Except he ain't on foot.

He got onto another animal.

This one only shod on the back.

The packhorse, one with all my money.

Looks like.

Trail stops here.

He knew there ain't no way to track him over the rocks.

He's got at least a three-day head start.

So?

So...

he could have headed south to the Gunnison River and crossed.

Or, if he was smart, rode right down the middle...

seeing as it's shallow and sandy all the way to New Mexico.

Or?

He could have headed north to the Purgatoire,

followed it for a bit to lose any trail,

then turned and headed up into Wyoming.

He could have even circled around and gone east.

It's any man's guess which way he chose.

Well, go ahead, then.

Guess.

Iyovi.

A goddamn ghost.

He knows horses.

Hey, mister!

Come on in and eat something!

What? You shot him.

Least you can do is feed him something.

It's OK, we don't bite.

That's my grandma, Iyovi.

She said that you look strong.

And that she's going to call you "Wandering Star."

It was my daddy's.

A lot of good it did him.

Come on.

Come on. Come on.

That's far enough.

Whoa!

I'm sorry.

But I didn't know what else to do.

I think maybe it's scarlet fever.

There's no doctor in town,

and the preacher don't arrive for another week.

She says it's just roseola, but you're gonna have to burn these blankets.

It's all right. Let her work.

What's your baby's name?

Luke.

After his father.

He was born the day of the accident.

The Lord was with me and Luke that day.

That's why all them men died.

The other ladies would chastise me if they knew I come up here.

They think you have a dark influence.

Luke!

Mister?

It's OK.

Doesn't seem to be hit anywhere.

Boy all right?

I'm very sorry, ma'am.

For what? Saving that little baby's life?

I'll be gone in the morning.

Like you say...

you don't know me.

You needn't fix that.

No, it's for the horses.

They're gonna need the space.

There's some lore about finding gold under the fence posts.

They say that's where the old ranchers used to hide it from Indians and outlaws.

Of course, I've never found any myself.

Never had that kind of luck.

Do you mind my asking...

...how you three...

ended up in this place?

Well...

it's a bit of a story.

I was only 17...

and I came out here to marry the son of my father's business partner.

All I knew about him was that his name was Henry...

and he was to meet me at the train station.

He'd sent me a new dress...

yellow, so I'd stand out...

and told me to wear it the day I arrived so he'd know me.

On the way back from the station, Henry wants to take a ride around the property,

show off his land.

"Our land," he said.

After a while, the horse pulling the buggy starts getting antsy.

I look up and see this strange cloud.

Black with green around the edges.

Henry says, "Looks like we got a bit of rain coming."

Next thing I knew, the cloud was gone.

Just vanished.

Now the horse starts to rear in the traces.

Henry helps me out of the wagon when I hear a rumble.

I turn around and see a six-foot wall of water coming right at us.

Henry, the horse,

the buggy...

they all got washed away right in front of me.

I almost did, too, but my new yellow dress got hung up on some mesquite.

Saved my life.

I wandered off for eight days in the wrong direction before I was found.

Found?

By who?

That's another story.

I'd offer to wash your clothes,

but they look like they'd come apart in the creek.

My husband's stuff should fit you.

The man who drowned?

No.

My second husband.

Truckee's father.

Are you from the mining company?

- No, ma'am. - Are you the new preacher?

No, ma'am.

I'm the law.

Go on, now.

There you go.

Afternoon.

Afternoon.

Marshal John Cook.

Callie Dunne.

Miss Dunne,

if I'd had me a teacher pretty as you,

I don't think I'd have learned a darn thing.

I don't know, Marshal.

I can be pretty persuasive.

I have not doubt.

I'm looking for Sheriff McNue.

Good thing his mouth is sewed shut.

Man had two kinds of teeth.

Rotten and gone.

No, no, no, no.

No...

Checkmate.

Well, look at you, McNue...

getting old and playing board games.

Well, you ain't exactly covered with morning dew yourself, Marshal.

I recall you was always more of a checkers man.

You gonna swallow that squirrel, or just keep chewing on him?

I'm emulating old Jacob Lee from Abilene.

Jesus.

One of the great fornicators of all time.

He also had himself a finely groomed patch of facial hair,

I hear served all sorts of purpose.

The man also had himself a pecker weighed as much as his .45.

Elmer Knowland, say hello to Marshal John Cook.

I have heard of you, Marshal.

And of your mustache.

A man needs something to proceed hisself,

other than mere rumor.

How are you, Bill?

You being a good mama to them little ones?

Are you kidding? Around here they got 100 mamas.

So, John, what brings you all the way out here?

Besides interrupting my leisure time.

I'm looking for Frank Griffin.

You think he might be here?

There's a regiment up in Olegrande.

I'm on my way up there...

to see if the captain will help me out.

You're... You're going to the army?

Ain't no regular posse will go after him no more.

Not after they seen what he left behind in Creede.

What happened up there?

Jesus, Bill.

Ain't you been reading The Daily Review?

I don't read much of anything these days.

Well, that A.T. Grigg is selling papers like bullets.

Griffin's been hitting mines all over the territory

the last six, seven months.

Lately, though...

he's run himself into some kind of a problem...

goes by the name of Roy Goode.

Boy from Moses?

That boy was a dead gun at 16.

That's the one.

But he's not a boy no more.

He's all growed up.

Been riding with Griffin for at least a dozen years,

until he disappeared a while back.

Word was Goode drowned six months ago

trying to cross Harlin Creek.

But then he showed up at Griffin's last robbery.

What do you mean, "showed up"?

Stole the whole take.

About $50,000 worth.

Goddamn.

Grigg has taken to calling him "Robin Goode"...

even though he stole from the crooked

and ain't gave a dime so far to nobody.

And you say this was where again?

Up in Creede.

Griffin hit the Tomboy Mine up there.

Payroll comes into town

on this little narrow gauge...

spurs off Savage Basin.

Weren't just no ordinary train, neither.

Turns out, aboard was J.B. Sloan,

president of the outfit that holds the claim on the Tomboy.

The man travels with his own security.

But that didn't matter much.

What in the good holy hell's going on here?

Hey, there.

Suppose you tell us where the payroll's at,

save us all some time?

Do you boys have any goddamned idea who I am?

I know you were Jimmy Sloan.

And I don't appreciate you using the Lord's name in vain as such.

Everyone, outside!

Look at you.

My, my!

Come on!

Maybe he was there waiting all along.

Hurry it up!

Maybe he come later.

Hard to say,

as I only got the one witness.

And given what they done to her...

I don't know how reliable she was.

But she said they called him Roy...

and that they was all afraid of him.

Roy Goode!

Why are you doing this?

Ride out, Frank.

What all got you so mad at me?

Damn it, I raised you up, Roy.

Ride on out or I take your fucking head off.

This ain't my death.

Roy!

While Frank ran after Roy and his money,

the miners finally came up from the Tomboy.

Where is everybody?

They's right here.

Town sent word they had a couple of Griffin's boys,

so I put a posse together and headed up that way.

A couple of things happened while I was en route.

First, the good people of Creede decided to lynch the Devlin Twins.

Now...

which one wants to watch the other get hung first?

I'll go first, brother.

The second thing...

Frank Griffin decided to turn around and come back.

You folks want a lynching?

You got one!

Whatever it was turned him around...

it seems that sometime during the chase,

Roy'd put a bullet in Frank's arm.

Them sons of bitches...

lynched the damn mob.

Every last one of them.

Then he burned the whole town to the ground.

Their blossom...

shall go up as dust...

because they have cast away the law of the Lord.

I come riding through the next morning.

Tears come to my eyes.

I just couldn't reckon with it.

They've been robbing mines all over Colorado and Wyoming.

It's only a matter of time before they come this way.

But we're shut down.

Frank Griffin don't know that.

And when he finds out who all's mostly living here...

that ain't exactly gonna be a discouragement.

Like I said, he knows horses.

Glass of bonded, you got any.

My daddy always said it was bad luck to spill even a drop of fine whiskey.

Certainly explains things around here.

It ain't spilled whiskey causing all our problems.

It's that damn Fletcher witch cursed this place.

Too much coal dust in the shaft.

It ignited and the fire just drunk up all the air.

Eighty-three good men gone in less than five minutes.

Just plain old bad luck.

Outside of the sheriff and that boy deputy,

how many folks left around here can fire a gun?

Why?

Is there gonna be trouble?

Just asking, that's all.

Well, if there's trouble,

the sheriff ain't gonna be around, anyhow.

But his sister can sure shoot.

Hello, Sheriff.

- How are you doing, son? - I'm good.

Yeah? Let me look at you.

Afternoon, Miss Fletcher.

Sheriff.

How is that well coming, son?

It's getting there.

If he spent more time digging down there and less time pondering the universe,

we'd have water by now.

Truckee, why don't you take the sheriff's horse?

There was bloody business up north with Frank Griffin.

What sort of bloody business?

Well, Griffin robbed the Tomboy Mine in Creede.

He ended up killing everyone in town.

My God.

Yeah, he and one of his boys got into it over the money.

Now Griffin's tearing up the territory looking for him.

A fella named Roy Goode.

Let's go inside.

You've got quite the herd out there, Alice.

A gift from Narrienta.

A gift or a bribe?

His other son just lost his wife to rubella.

Tell me more about this Roy Goode.

What are you planning on doing with all of them?

I've been talking to some ex-buffalo soldiers,

having a go at their own town outside Easton.

You mean Blackdom?

That's more a few sod huts than any kind of town.

You sure them folks got the money?

They say they do.

I see them doing odd jobs in town sometimes.

What all you know about this Roy Goode?

Well, Marshal in Santa Fe tells me he killed at least a dozen men.

Listen...

I was thinking it might be a nice gesture

if you sold a few of them animals to the ladies down in La Belle.

Nice gesture?

They shot my husband in the back.

Well, you don't know that.

I know they left him in the mud to die.

Yeah, well, that was a long time ago.

They've all had their own heartache since then.

You know, maybe it's time y'all buried the hatchet.

Hell, maybe it's time we all moved on.

Truth is...

I come down here to talk to you about just that.

The future.

I don't say this to you now,

I never will.

It seems Anna's been coming to me in my dreams less and less.

I can't tell if it's because she's fading away from me or...

because I see you there more and more.

Alice...

I need to know where I stand with you.

I'm being foolish, ain't I?

No, you're not.

It's all right. Ain't the first time the wish was feather to the thought.

Excuse me, ma'am.

Are you the local law?

Yes, sir, I am.

I'm Roy Goode, sir.

And if it's all right with you, I'd like to turn myself in.

I knew it! I knew you were somebody!

Truckee, stay outside.

What? Why can't I...

Go!

You're Roy Goode?

Yes, sir.

Ma'am...

we may need to borrow your mare,

or even the old lady's burro, seeing as the little packhorse I rode in on...

Just wait. Just wait a minute, goddamn it.

Suppose you start by telling me exactly what all you're doing right here?

He showed up in the middle of the night, about a week ago.

A week ago?

- And when was you planning on telling me? - She didn't know who I was.

Speak up, son.

She didn't know who I was.

Why are you talking all soft for?

Ma shot him in the throat, but he'd already been shot two times.

I got into it with Griffin and his boys

at a place called Doubtful Canyon.

I don't believe I've heard of it.

It's up north in Colorado, a few miles outside a town called Creede.

Frank had just robbed the payroll.

I went ahead and took it from him.

-And why would you do a thing like that? -Because I knew he'd chase me.

I was trying to draw them as far away from the folks in that town as I could.

But things didn't quite work out the way I planned.

I'd say not.

What happened?

Well, I seen from my horse's mouth he was flecking blood.

Began to flounder.

I could see the poor boy didn't have much life left.

It weren't long before he bottomed out--

I didn't ask you what happened with your damn horse.

I asked you, "What happened?"

Well...

we ended up shooting it out in the canyon.

You against all of them?

Yes, sir.

Boy, Griffin's got 30 men riding with him.

Thirty-two that day.

And you held them all off by yourself?

Sir, a situation like that, a rifle can be mighty comprehensive.

Still...

there was 32 of them and just one of you.

I knew there was no way they were gonna work through that gorge,

boxed up the way it was,

without getting shot to a man.

And that black-handled .38 I hear so much about... where might that be?

I lost it...

and my rifle, crossing the San Juan.

And that cash you stole from Griffin, you lose that in the river, too?

I lost everything.

You know, you don't seem all that much like a desperado to me

so much as you just look desperate.

I am who I say.

Well, if that is true, son,

if you are Roy Goode...

they're gonna hang you for sure.

Goodbye, Mr. Goode.

God help you folks.