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Come on in.
Mr. Randall?
Uh -huh?
Do you have a moment?
Just a moment.
My name is Arthur Pierce Madison.
I'm the Boston Evening Messenger.
As I understand it, you are currently occupied in a search for this man.
What about it?
I want to accompany you.
Huh?
I want to observe you in action.
Why? Because I'm here to write a series of newspaper articles.
Oh, yeah?
The bounty hunter is unique to the West. I want to observe him in action.
Why are there a lot of bounty hunters around here?
I was specifically referred to you.
By who?
By a gunsmith in Boston named Hopper.
Yeah, I know.
Well, what do you say, Mr. Randall?
About what?
About me accompanying you.
You won't be sorry.
Oh. Talking about money?
Ah, no, Mr. Randall, not money. Something money cannot buy.
Yeah, what's that?
Publicity. Advertising. Notoriety. Call it what you like.
Your name will be in the evening messenger.
Yeah?
Yeah. You, uh, mean Boston?
Everywhere. I have the word of an eminent publisher that if he likes these
articles, he'll issue them in a book.
Sure enough.
Well, uh, you came again?
The pencil, Mr. Randall, is mightier than the sword.
Yeah, sure.
Uh, you walk and ride.
I bought a horse this morning, a very fine animal.
Okay, you win.
Better put your weapons away. Come on.
Yes, but how did you become a bounty hunter?
Same way you become a reporter. Worked at it. It's not quite the same thing.
Good job, isn't it?
Somebody hired me.
Somebody hired me, too.
Only difference is, every time I finish a job, I gotta find another job. Look
for a new boss.
Here you are, Josh.
Thanks, Jimmy.
Oh, I need a pack of 4570s, too.
Not a difference between your kind of work and mine.
Your business is noisy.
Anything else?
Huh.
See, that newspaper of yours pay expenses?
Of course.
Yeah, well, this is an expense.
So you're going to have to pay him.
I'm just an observer.
Now, looky here.
Torrance knows I'm coming after him. He's liable not to figure out what you
until you're on top of him, and then he's going to shoot you.
I don't believe in firearms.
Yeah.
Torrance does.
Yeah,
you know, you'd love to shoot somebody.
Well, it's good to be fancy and quick, but it's a lot better to be sure. So
take your time. Nothing fancy, no fanning. Just pull back the trigger one
time with your thumb.
You want to plant your feet square.
Kicks a little bit.
There, boy.
And just point that on up that way.
All right.
Now, you don't pull the trigger. You kind of squeeze it.
So, why don't you cock in the fire cup, hmm?
pit bull team at Harvard.
For sport, of course.
Mmm. You betcha.
You see, even a horse is ashamed of that saddle. I don't think it is a saddle. I
think this keeps the horse warm and the saddle goes atop it. Well, if it ain't a
saddle, what are these stirrups for? Don't think they are stirrups. I think
just a buckle to run a belt through.
Could be.
Stay up there, man. Have to be glued.
Mr.
Is that your horse? Yes.
What is that?
What is what?
That.
That is a saddle.
That's your opinion.
Mine and the entire adult population of the British Isles and the eastern
seaboard of the United States of America who ride on English saddles.
How do you keep from falling, mister?
Post.
Post.
Post? A post.
Oh.
To post is to follow the rhythm of your horse. When your horse comes down, you
come down. When your horse comes up, You come up. Down.
Up. Down.
Up. Where are you? In between?
There is no in between, sir.
The English have been riding on saddles like these for centuries.
You didn't answer me.
Do you like your work?
Well, I'm doing it.
That's not what I asked you, Josh.
Do you like it?
Well, let's put it this way, pal.
It's all I know.
Is it all you want?
Almost.
Not quite.
Seems to me everything you've got is on that horse over there.
Yes, Pussu.
But it kind of leaves me free, you know.
We're all free.
Well, somebody sent you down here, didn't they?
That's right, my editor.
Told you what to write. He gave me my assignment.
What do you mean?
Ah, I see your point.
With you, it's one assignment after another, isn't it?
Most of the time.
Month after month, year after year?
Mm -hmm.
A rolling stone gathers no more, is that right, John?
One day you'll be too old for this kind of life.
Haven't you ever thought of a home?
Of a place you can call your own?
Yeah, I've thought of it.
I tell you, too, just lately I've been thinking about you.
Why? What's the matter?
You're dressed like you're going to go to a tea party.
Don't you ride it good and shoot as good as any man I know.
Well, is that wrong?
I think somebody's shooting at us.
Which way?
Who is it?
It could be Torrance.
One of his guns.
I can be certain that it is only one man.
If there were two of them, it would be one behind us.
You got your gun?
I told you, I don't believe in firearms.
You will.
You see him?
Mm -hmm.
That was smart. You're going to get yourself shot to shoot and shoot. I
want to lose those notes.
Use it. No.
Just fire some shots. Glance them off a rock. Cover me. Give me a chance to get
up there. Yeah.
Okay.
Don't sit away or I'll take the top of your head off.
On your feet.
Put your hands behind your head.
You carrying another gun?
Huh?
That's all. You got it.
All right.
You can put down your hands now.
Easy. Who is he?
Tell him who you are, friend.
Name's Sid Gonda.
Is he one of Torrance's men?
Tell him.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Josh, stop it. Don't try to tell me how to run my business. I don't tell you how
to run yours.
I want to know where Torrance is, and I want to know right now.
Turn around.
I just will kill you as I look at you.
Last time around.
You're not going to kill anybody.
I can't stand by for mid -bloodshed. I thought you didn't like that.
For taking life, no.
For protecting life, yes.
If you don't give me your gun this minute, I'm going to shoot you in the
I believe you would.
Go on, Mr. Gonda. Get going and get going fast.
A man doesn't always do what he says he's gonna do. If I can bluff a man,
means I don't have to kill him.
In wars and odds, you get what you want that way.
Understand me?
I'm sorry I didn't know.
It's my fault.
Could I have my gun?
Thank you.
If we don't follow Gonda...
How are we going to find Tarns?
Well, I'm going to have to track them. It'll mean a lot more work for me.
A lot more work for me.
What's the matter?
Row came loose.
Hmm?
Spur, you know. Oh.
Didn't you get tired of hitting that thing?
I don't hit it.
Well, what do you do?
I barely touch it.
Yeah, but how do you stay on it, I mean?
Willpower, Josh, old boy.
Willpower.
Center city, huh?
Yeah.
Well, where do we go from here?
Well, uh... Look, Arthur.
I think we'll see a couple of fellas.
We'll go on about three hours.
Why don't you go in there and sit down?
Can't I go with you?
Uh, no.
You still really don't trust me, do you?
Oh, no, no. It's not your honesty I'm worried about.
It's, uh... Well, what is it, then?
Different funny notions you get every once in a while.
Choose a nice tie you got there, Arthur.
Go ahead.
I'll be back shortly.
Do you mind?
Well, I guess.
And then, Miss Anderson.
Well, did you get that about the Apache raid?
Yes, I did.
And the scalping?
Mm -hmm.
Well, it was just awful.
I was the only one left alive.
My mother was coming wet to find a new home.
My father had been killed during the Battle of Bull Run, fighting for the
But I thought you said before your father fought with the North.
Well, he did.
He did.
Both the North and the South.
That way he didn't show any favoritism.
Kind of made him a real war hero.
Yes, I can see that.
You want to hear more?
Well, I think I have enough now. I mean, I don't like to talk about these
things, believe me.
But... I feel the truth should be printed, don't you?
Well, as I was saying, after that terrible Apache raid, I was the only one
alive. Just a poor, innocent child when... You're not writing.
Oh, I am sorry.
Poor, innocent child.
Got that?
Innocent child.
More dead than alive when I stumbled into Center City.
Father couldn't have been more kind to me than Tom.
I'm more to be pitied than scorned.
I am.
He's cool.
Miss Anderson.
You're going to put my name in the paper, aren't you? Of course.
And you'll send me a copy?
I'll just send you five copies, Miss Anderson.
Would you tell her?
Nothing.
What would she tell you?
The story of her life.
Indian massacre.
Only survivor?
Do you believe that?
No, but wouldn't it be nice if she thought I did?
What did you find out from your friends?
Nothing. Do you know where the Ridge Road is and the Twin Rocks?
Yeah, it's a long ride from here.
What?
Gonda may be hiding out there in an abandoned barn.
What are you talking about?
He might be there.
What makes you think so?
She told me.
She's Gonda's girlfriend.
You said it was a long ride.
Let's go.
That's Gonda's horse.
Hey,
I'll go on down there by myself. It's okay with you.
Yeah, but I want to watch you. Yeah, I know, but you'll have to get one of
crazy notions of yours again.
Here.
Rhonda?
What you doing?
Describing the scene so I can refer to it when I write my story.
Yeah, well, why don't you put that away and do it a little later, huh?
Let's go.
Who do you think killed him?
Torch. But why?
He didn't do his job.
Karen's shotgun, Randall.
Left him. Left him all the way up.
Get rid of that bulge in the coat, my friend.
Easy like Arthur.
Didn't anybody ever tell you?
Haloff's got ears.
Yeah.
Got a little fancy with that pitchfork business, didn't he?
Who's this city boy, Randall?
He's not in his torrents.
I think he is.
Deep.
Newspaper reporter, that's all, nothing more.
From what city, city boy?
Boston.
Boston.
Gonna put my name in a newspaper, city boy?
Imagine more than that, Mr. Torrance.
Like what?
I'm gonna devote an entire story to your exploits. Give me an example.
Jack Torrance, the bravest man your correspondent has ever known.
Is it going to have a headline, city boy?
Right across the top of the page.
Jack Torrance, Robin Hood of the West.
I'll bet.
I figured he'd get to you with all that talk after a while.
Let's go, Robin Hood.
You'd better come on now, Arthur.
If you're thinking of splitting that with me... Don't worry, I'm not.
You got what you're coming after. Well, not really.
I've only begun to gather material.
If I could accompany you on one more... No, no, I... No, I don't think so.
I think the strain might be just a little too much for me.
Well,
if you ever come to Boston... Not likely.
Well, if you do, Boston will greet you with open arms.
Remember, it's known for its beautiful women.
Oh, well, huh.
Well, if you have me tied like that, I might just brave it once.
Well...
You've got one now.
You know, I still can't see how he stays on that horse.
That's willpower, old boy.
That's sheer willpower.
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