Original subtitles

What's the hurry?

Two men dead, one of them an Indian.

Well, that could be trouble.

Well, that why the Governor's hired us.

Doesn't trust our illustrious Sheriff?

Would you?

(Hammers pounding distantly, horses whinnying)

Oh, I knew you two would try to weasel in on this.

The Governor has hired us to assist in this case,

given its... delicate nature.

I can be delicate too.

Like to see that.

What do you know about the victims?

Indian calls himself Daniel Watkins,

but his real name is Red Bird.

Full-blooded Chippewa Indian, came into town a few years ago,

lived white ever since.

Kept an eye on him, but he never caused trouble.

The Chippewa Tribe will wanna know who killed him.

And our... tribe will wanna know who killed the white guy.

Well, according to the calling cards found on him,

white guy's name is Fredrick Hemphill.

No trade or address listed.

Judging by that tomahawk in his chest,

I'd say he was killed by an Indian.

An Indian killing a white man.

Or a white man killing an Indian.

Either way, could get nasty.

(Rattling noise)

Did you check this trunk?

Yeah, it's just blankets.

Whoa! What the-- Hey! Hey!

Whoa, hey! Hold on there. Hey, Sheriff!

Sheriff.

Hey! It's okay, it's okay.

It's all right, no one's gonna hurt you.

It's okay.

LOGAN: This must be Red Bird's nephew.

I heard he came in from the Chippewa camp

a few weeks ago to live with his uncle.

Maybe he killed 'em.

That would make a nice, easy case for you, wouldn't it?

My favourite kind.

KATE: Highly unlikely he killed

two men twice his size, Sheriff.

Indian boy, Indian weapon.

Just... examining clues.

Did you see what happened to your uncle?

LOGAN: He won't answer.

Doesn't speak English.

Nobody around these parts speaks the Chippewa language.

In any event, the odds are less than one percent

that he killed them.

Because...

Because the defence wounds on both bodies

are only on their right hands.

And the body wounds rake right-to-left.

That means that the attacker had to be left-handed.

There are left-handed Indians.

Actually, less than one percent.

Left-handedness is a European trait

for the last few thousand years.

The cut patterns mean that these two men

couldn't have killed each other.

Not to mention that whoever did this

would have been covered in blood.

KATE: I hate to dash your hopes of an easy case, Sheriff,

but this little boy did not kill these two men.

And these two men did not kill each other.

(Man shouting in Native language)

(Chanting mournfully in Native language)

(Chanting continues)

(Chanting continues)

(Chanting mournfully in Native language)

MAN: What is he doin'?

MAN 2: He's stallin', Sheriff! You have to arrest 'im!

Boys? Go on.

(Continues humming chant)

LOGAN: Shoot him, if he fights.

He isn't going to fight.

He's singin' a war song!

Listen to him, Sheriff.

That's a death-song.

They call it a travelling song.

He's mourning his friend.

(Chanting mournfully in Native language)

Well, he's gonna get somebody else killed,

if I don't arrest him.

Besides, who says he isn't guilty of this crime?

My first job is protecting the public peace, Mrs. Warne.

I intend to see that happen.

The boy can join him.

You can't jail the boy! We've established he's innocent.

LOGAN: He may still be an eyewitness,

and what else am I supposed to do with him?

We'll take him.

I don't think so.

I'll tell you what, Logan,

Mrs. Warne might be bossy,

and she may sound like a jaybird at times,

but if you want the facts of a situation,

she's your man.

So if she says we're takin' the boy,

we're takin' the boy.

You don't like that? Take it up with the Governor.

Any questions?

(Man chanting mournfully in Native language)

None at this time.

KATE: Now, about those deputies?

(Sighing)

Lower your guns, boys.

We'll take him in peaceful.

JOHN: Mrs. Warne,

I don't know anything about children.

KATE: That makes two of us.

But, surely you can look after him for a little while?

What does he like to eat?

What's he like to do?

(Sighing) I wish I knew.

Good luck.

(Door closing)

All right, I'll...

let's go get something to eat, little man.

I got some, uhh, some pie

and I've got some stew somewhere.

(Horse neighing distantly)

KATE: Could you open it, please?

You know I can't do that, Mrs. Warne.

I'll be fine. Please?

(Keys jangling)

(Lock turning)

Thank you.

I'm Kate Warne

with the Pinkerton National Detective Agency.

I'm sure that means nothing to you.

Brought you some food.

When your friend Red Bird and the white man were killed,

Red Bird's nephew was hiding.

The killer doesn't know that he was there,

but he'll find out soon, and he will come back

and try and kill the boy.

You must have been a true brother to Red Bird.

Do you speak English?

(Carriage rumbling distantly)

If you tell me, it will help the boy.

My name is Firemaker.

Oh, thank God you speak English.

Where is Rain Sky? The boy?

He's safe, but I can't say for how much longer.

If I bring him here, could you translate for me?

FIREMAKER: I am Lakota Sioux.

Red Bird spoke my language.

I did not speak his.

That's unfortunate.

Who killed him?

Well, I know it wasn't you.

You're right-handed.

Tell me about Red Bird.

He left us long ago.

Why?

To show that we can live in peace with the whites.

And now this.

Yes. This.

Do you know of an Indian that Red Bird had quarrel with?

That might have attacked him or the white man?

No.

They were killed with a tomahawk.

An Indian weapon.

Whites stole the world.

They can steal a tomahawk.

I'm going to have you freed.

I work for the Governor.

The "Big Father."

I know who the Governor is.

And he is not the Big Father.

Please, if you can think of anyone

who would kill your friend...

There is a Christian missionary, near Sedalia,

who speaks the Chippewa language.

Reverend Elias Harper.

Thank you. I'll speak with him.

Okay, time's up.

Kate Warne.

If I am kept in here much longer,

my people will come for me.

(Sighing) How's it going in there?

Well, I telegraphed the Chicago office,

nothing on Fredrick Hemphill.

What'd you get on the Indian?

His name's Firemaker, and he's right-handed.

So he's not our killer, then. Correct.

If he's in jail much longer,

his people are gonna come for him.

We have to get through to that boy.

WILL: How?

Have you ever seen Sedalia this time of year?

Sedalia? No. Never seen Sedalia at any time of year.

That's about to change.

That's more than a day's ride, back and forth.

There's a missionary there who speaks the Chippewa language.

Great. So I'm gonna have to travel overnight

with some old coot who'll try to steer me

onto a righteous path?

That's a tall order.

You're tellin' me!

Oh, I meant for the old coot.

You should probably get going

if you're gonna make it back by tomorrow.

(Sighing)

Don't forget to pack your winter woollies!

WILL: Yeah!

(Patrons chattering, laughing)

Pardon me.

But I understand you're the Pinkerton.

I'm one of them. Kate Warne.

Jonah West. I'm in land.

I already have a farm, Mr. West.

I'm not here about that.

For nine years, I was the government's Indian Agent

to the Chippewa Tribe.

Red Bird was one of my closest friends.

Please, sit down.

Sorry you lost your friend.

Red Bird was my... experiment.

Experiment? An unfortunate term.

In truth, Red Bird was my fondest hope.

For? Integration for the red man, Mrs. Warne.

It cost me my career, but I stand by it, even now.

Separation breeds anger,

and misunderstanding.

The more men know each other and live with each other,

the more they live in peace.

That has not been my experience, Mr. West.

When we push the Indian away from us, he fights harder.

He must learn to embrace us.

Red Bird came to our city to live as we do.

He endured strife and prejudice,

but he showed that Indians can learn our ways

and find happiness.

Until he was killed in his own home,

along with a white man.

Fredrick Hemphill, does that ring a bell? No.

Red Bird had several white friends.

He was likely in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Can you think of anyone who might have killed them?

No.

But I feel as though I had done it myself.

All I wanted for Red Bird was the best,

and look what happened! It's the death of a dream.

But...

But?

There's usually a "but."

Well, I have no evidence,

but there's an element in the city, violent men,

who hate people of other colours.

The bushwhackers.

I make no accusations,

but there were mutterings, threats.

Uneasiness. A name would help.

Burton Powell.

Works for a blacksmith.

I'll look into that.

My thanks.

Umm, Red Bird had a nephew who was staying with him.

Do you know Rain Sky?

Rain Sky? No, I'm afraid that I don't.

It's been a while since I saw Red Bird.

Thank you.

(Crow calling)

(Missionaries chattering)

Greetings.

Well, greetings.

I'm looking for a missionary named Elias Harper?

That would be my father. Great.

Is he here?

Reverend Harper has gone out to the Lord.

He... died? Of course not!

Some mornings he wakes up in the Spirit.

He rides into the wilderness to commune with God Almighty.

Uhh... where exactly in the wilderness could I find him?

Uhh, your father, not the God Almighty.

If I may, who is asking?

Ohh, uhh, Will Pinkerton.

Greetings, Will Pinkerton. Greetings.

Again.

And if I may, what's your name?

I am Rebecca Harper.

Rebecca. It's a beautiful name.

Means "captivating," you know.

I am named for the wife of Isaac

and the mother of Esau and Jacob.

Oh, you're... married? Children?

No, they're Biblical figures.

I am unmarried.

Oh. Well, thank heavens!

Uhh, anyway, I'm told your father speaks

the Chippewa language.

I'm here to escort him back to Kansas City

to translate something for me.

The Reverend may not be back for many days.

Well, it's important that I find him.

There could be bloodshed if I don't.

Two men are dead already.

Well, I speak the Chippewa language.

Well... would you

mind coming with me?

JOHN: You gotta eat.

I make a respectable hog's-head stew.

Well, go on.

Okay. Okay, I get it.

You don't want stew.

It's like carin' for a cobra.

Whiskey.

(Banjo playing, patrons chattering)

Burton Powell?

You lookin' for a little romp there, missy?

My name's Kate Warne,

I'm with the Pinkertons National Detective Agency.

(Scoffing) Some kind of secretary?

Actually, I'm a detective.

And I've got a few questions for you.

I don't answer to women.

Well, I think you'll answer to me.

Why?

Because I have a Sioux warrior in custody,

and I believe you may have killed his friend.

Now, if you don't talk to me,

I will put you in a jail cell with that warrior,

I will lock the door and I will walk away.

Those are just the facts.

Now, are you a bushwhacker?

I rode with Quantrill near the end.

It's not a crime.

Did you kill a man named Red Bird last night?

No. And I didn't kill that white man

who was with him either.

You're left-handed.

As was my dear mother.

Where were you last night?

Dead drunk in Independence.

Was anyone with you?

(Whiskey glass slamming down)

Couple'a whores at the River Rat Inn.

I'll check that claim with them.

You do that.

And thanks for tellin' me where that murdered Indian is.

Might have to go pay him a little visit.

Is that a threat, Mr. Powell?

It's just a fact.

Ain't it, Mrs. Warne?

(Chuckling)

WILL: Beef jerky?

REBECCA: Thank you.

Father, Son, Holy Spirit, amen.

Bless us, oh Lord, and these, Thy gifts,

which we are about... to receive.

Or are already receiving.

Do you not give thanks to the Lord before you eat,

Mr. Pinkerton?

Nah. I like to taste His food before I get grateful.

(Chuckling)

Oh, well, maybe you'd like to give thanks now?

You want me to pray out loud?

You just let the Lord guide you.

Haven't done that since I was six.

(Giggling) Umm...

Well?

Now I lay me down to sleep,

pray the Lord my soul to keep.

Well, it's not exactly a prayer of thanks,

but it's a start.

I just haven't done much praying of late.

Maybe we can change that.

That'd be nice. With your help, of course.

Well, the help that you need must come from within.

(Horse neighing)

Mrs. Warne, if this Powell fellow

wants to come up against me, he'll regret it.

Powell and his bushwhacker friends think

Firemaker killed a white man. They're looking for blood.

Now you're just bein' a worrywart.

Firemaker says if he's in jail much longer,

his people will ride into town and take him back.

Can you and your men really handle a conflagration

of angry bushwhackers and Lakota?

There will be no blood in the streets, Mrs. Warne.

Not on my watch.

Firemaker stays where he is,

until his guilt or innocence can be proven in court.

Now, if you'll excuse me,

my dear mother is expecting me for dinner.

Boiled duck and cabbage.

(Sniffing) Mmm!

Want something to warm you up?

Alcohol is the Devil's drink.

It clouds the mind, separates us from what's holy.

Oh, come on. Missionaries aren't allowed to have some fun?

Spreading the word of the Lord is a joyous enterprise.

Even to the people it's being spread to?

There are some Indians who find our work to be an intrusion,

but they don't understand that the religion

of our Blessed Saviour is the best way to civilize any people.

What if they don't want to be civilized?

Look at the trouble it's brought Red Bird and his nephew.

What troubles you, Will Pinkerton?

Your certainty.

I call it faith.

Well, what troubles you, Miss Harper?

You.

(Flask cap screwing on)

Well, let me know if you change your mind about that drink.

It's gonna get cold.

Deputy.

I wanted to thank you for allowing me

to visit your prisoner.

It's French.

French whiskey?

A capital way to cap the day.

My late husband lived for it.

You know, you remind me of him, Deputy.

Your strength of character.

I thought it was appropriate that you have

his favourite drink.

Mind you, though...

(Cork popping) It's very strong.

Ain't a whiskey made that can hurt me, ma'am.

My Archibald used to say that very thing.

Well, drink up.

(Shivering audibly)

You'll be warmer inside here.

I can't.

All I'm offering you is warmth.

You promise?

Yeah, I promise.

(Shivering)

(Sighing)

Better?

Yes, thank you.

(Snoring loudly)

What did you do to him? KATE: Nothing.

He did it to himself.

You are a sly woman. Thank you.

That is not praise.

I see.

We still have to get you out of here

before a war breaks out.

I'm ready to go.

You must promise to stay with us

until we find out who killed Red Bird.

We need your help protecting the boy.

(Birds singing)

Uhh, hi.

Morning. Morning.

Sleep well?

Yes. You?

Like a baby.

I... thank you for keeping your promise.

No problem.

Well, let's get goin'.

Right, of course.

I got fruit.

Everybody loves fruit--

(Crashing)

(Laughing)

You like that?

Apple.

(Rain Sky gasping)

(John chuckling in relief)

All right.

Pretty good, huh?

(Deputy snoring)

(Logan sighing)

Damn it, Folliard!

(Sighing)

Idiot!

When he wakes up, knock him out again.

Help you boys?

We're lookin' for that Indian killed a white man.

Well, as you can see, he ain't here.

You arrested him. And I let him go.

Now, why would you do a thing like that?

Sheriff's prerogative.

Excuse me.

This is a harness.

Har-ness.

Go on. Say it.

Har-ness.

Ness? (Laughing) No, no.

(Gun cocking) Ness.

Har?

Good, now put it together.

Har-- Ness?

(Gun firing, John grunting)

(Horses whinnying in panic)

Cover me!

(Shouting in pain)

What are you doin'?! No!

(Grunting, shouting in pain)

(Horses whinnying)

(Hissing in pain)

(Door opening)

What happened?

Gunmen came. Think they were looking for the boy.

Are you okay?

Eh, it's just a graze.

May I help?

Uhh, thank you.

Who were they? JOHN: Couldn't see.

They took off when I fired at them.

And where's Rain Sky?

He got scared and he ran away.

I-- I couldn't stop him.

Which way did he go? Well, the gunmen went south,

so he probably went north.

(Door opening)

John! Look, I'm okay.

Men came for the boy.

They shot up the barn, he took one in the leg.

Did they take Rain Sky?

No, I chased 'em off, but Rain Sky ran away.

Who were they? Were they bushwhackers?

No, I don't think so.

They don't quit 'til they get what they came for.

These guys hightailed it as soon as I fired at them.

Well, they might not have been after Rain Sky.

They might have been after you.

I know.

I'm afraid we haven't been introduced.

Rebecca Harper, daughter of the Reverend Elias Harper.

Kate Warne.

She speaks the Chippewa language.

Ohh... Look, we need to find Rain Sky.

I can track 'em.

I'll go with you.

I'll take Miss Harper to a safe place.

John, are you okay to stay here in case Rain Sky comes back?

Yeah, I'm all right. Okay.

I feel like I could fall asleep in the Lord right here.

KATE: Ask Him to preserve you a few more days.

I need your help solving the case.

I heard the details of Red Bird's murder.

From Mr. Pinkerton?

(Horse whinnying distantly)

He is...

a complicated man.

(Laughing) But-- you're kidding, right?

No, I'm not.

He feigns scepticism when it comes to matters religious,

and yet... he possesses a strict moral code.

Will Pinkerton?

Yes.

He has a certain...

roguish charm.

Huh.

Oh, and I will be locking you in here

until we find Rain Sky.

For your own protection.

(Door closing)

(Patrons laughing, chattering)

MAN: Ma'am. MAN 2: Marley!

Mr. West?

Mrs. Warne.

I'm hoping you can help me.

I'd be happy to.

Rain Sky's run away.

Oh? Some men were trying to kill him.

Do you have any idea where he might go?

No.

Would he go back to his people?

The Chippewa? It's possible.

But you were their Agent.

Surely if you ask, they'll send him back.

They don't speak to me anymore.

Not since Washington broke the treaties I made with them

and took their land.

I see.

Nine years working to better them.

Each treaty broken. Red Bird, dead.

I have nothing to show for my labours.

Excuse me.

Annalee?

Don't look at the table over there.

What's that? No, don't...

look at the table over there.

Jonah West is sitting there.

You know the man with him?

You just told me not to look.

Look now, briefly.

(Sighing)

That's Austin Bowlsby.

Why?

Do you know him? Customer.

A little peculiar, if you know what I mean.

He pays a premium for the girls.

There is no shortage of volunteers.

How does he earn a living?

He buys and sells land.

Land. Are you sure?

Yeah, he cut Louella in on a deal last year.

Why? What's goin' on?

I'm not sure yet.

I could talk to her for ya.

Yeah, I'd be grateful.

It's more fun than slingin' beer.

Ask her if Bowlsby knows anything about Red Bird.

Sure.

Why would he know anything about Red Bird?

Like I said...

I'm not sure yet. Thank you.

(Patrons chattering)

Excuse me.

What?

(Branch snapping underfoot)

(Wood creaking)

KATE: State records say that Red Bird sold Austin Bowlsby land

out near Belton.

That's right, Louella said Jonah West

negotiated the deal.

Indeed. Except the deal went south.

Bowlsby said that Red Bird cheated him.

He sold 'em salt land for pasture.

Salt land was owned by-- Fredrick Hemphill.

Hemphill.

That's the man who was killed in the tent with Red Bird.

That land deal gives Bowlsby pretty great motive

to kill both of them.

Except, Louella said Bowlsby was with her

the night of the murder.

Do you trust Louella? I do.

She may be protecting her business partner.

I trust Louella.

Okay. Thank you.

(Harnesses jangling)

(Crow cawing)

What?

They are close.

(Woodpecker hammering)

Who's "they"?

Whoever has Rain Sky.

How-- how do you know someone has Rain Sky?

I can see.

It's a Chippewa?

No. Sioux.

Hey, he's Sioux, you're Sioux.

This'll be easy, right?

(Chuckling)

Is that what you think?

No?

He is Santee Sioux.

I am Lakota. Our people have...

differences.

Aw, hell.

He'll ransom the boy, or kill him.

Do you want to die?

Hadn't planned on it.

Then get your hand away from there.

You follow us.

We're peaceful.

But we need the boy back.

There was a Chippewa man who was killed in town.

The boy saw who did it.

You think whites will give justice

for an Indian life?

He will make sure they do.

I will.

They steal everything.

Even our souls.

You talkin' about missionaries?

People like Elias Harper?

His voice is like the crow.

But people listen, and become lost to us.

I know his daughter.

I think I can convince them to leave your people alone.

He will never convert another Santee Sioux to his ways.

But you have to give me Rain Sky.

Oh, thank God!

Oh, sorry, I was just glad to see you.

Welcome back, little man!

Well, looks like you made a friend.

Yeah, we had some fun together.

How'd you get through to him?

I tripped, he laughed.

Laughter is important to our people.

We honour the clown.

Thank you.

We have another suspect: Austin Bowlsby,

a land dealer who was cheated by Red Bird and Hemphill.

Land's a dirty business.

Rain Sky may not be safe here.

We should get him to Rebecca at the Dubois.

I will come with you.

Okay.

FIREMAKER: I will stand guard outside to protect Rain Sky.

KATE: But the bushwhackers are looking for you.

And I will look for them.

WILL: Forget it, Kate.

I've learned that you don't argue with a Lakota.

(Patrons chattering)

PATRON: You got any money on 'em?

KATE: Ask him if he knows who killed his uncle.

(Speaking in Native language)

The poor boy is frightened.

Tell him we'll protect him.

(Continues speaking in Native language)

(Sighing)

(Loud clattering, Will groaning in pain)

(Shouting in pain)

Oh, jeez!

(Grunting) Oh-ho-ho, ow!

(Giggling)

(Laughing)

KATE: Tell him Will wants to know who killed his uncle.

(Speaking in Native language)

(Speaking in Native language)

He said it was a man his uncle called "To the Sunset."

An Indian?

(Speaking in Native language)

(Speaking in Native language)

No. A white.

A white man named To the Sunset?

That makes no sense. (Distant shouting)

BUSHWHACKER: Come on! He's in the hotel!

I think we got trouble.

Bushwhackers, and they're heading this way.

I gotta warn Firemaker. I'll come with you.

No, keep an eye on these two.

What's happening?

Bushwhackers are coming for Firemaker.

BUSHWHACKER: Right now, out here!

We're gonna have some justice.

There he goes!

(Mob shouting)

MAN: Lookie!

Your kind ain't allowed in here!

(Grunting)

MAN: Hey!

(Bottles shattering)

Hey!

We know who you are, and we know what you did.

What seems to be the problem here?

There's no problem here, fella.

You best move along.

I don't think so.

This ain't your business, so step aside!

Well, in fact, it is the business

of the Pinkertons National Detective Agency.

Any harm comes to me or my friend here,

you'll have the full force of our agency

hounding your every move for the rest of your miserable life.

You know what we want.

Give us that murderin' bastard,

everything is fine.

Oh, well lookie here.

The little lady's joinin' us.

Now we're real scared.

(Mob chuckling)

You oughta be scared now, Powell.

Numbers are gettin' even.

(Guns cocking)

How about it, people?

Y'all just gonna sit there and let these thugs defy the law?

Shoot an innocent man?

(Guns cocking)

BUSHWHACKER: Wait, wait...

KATE: And now we outgun you five-to-one.

And for those of you without schooling,

that means you'll all be dead long before we will.

BUSHWHACKER: Cut us down...

LOGAN: Drop your weapons,

and lie face-down on the floor.

Now!

(Guns dropping) BUSHWHACKER 2: All right, you heard 'em...

Hey, stop that!

(Bushwhackers muttering in surrender)

Come on!

Go get 'em, boys.

(Knocking on door)

WILL: It's Will.

All is well?

(Panting) Yes.

(Sighing in relief)

You see, Will Pinkerton?

The Good Lord in Heaven always prevails.

I think superior firepower prevailed in this case.

And I would say the Lord works in mysterious ways.

Okay, I'll concede to the point.

Now, I-- I need you to do something for me.

Prayer?

Salvation?

I could help you with either.

Well, that could work.

But I'm actually thinking about something else.

Something else?

You see, I-- I made a promise.

Ah, I see.

Well, a good person must keep his promise.

Exactly. And I want to be a good person.

What did you promise?

You and your father are never to go near the Santee Sioux again.

They don't want you there.

But-- they need the salvation that we offer!

They need nothing from us.

I made the arrangement in exchange for Rain Sky.

They lived up to their end.

And you must live up to yours.

I agree.

And I know my father will as well.

And there are other tribes who need our help.

(Door opening)

Uhh... uhh, Logan got everything handled down there?

In his usual fashion.

We still have a killer to catch.

"To the Sunset."

(Knocking on door)

(Door opening)

Mr. West!

I'm glad you got my message, please come in.

Have a seat.

I heard about the rumpus at the Dubois last night.

I'm glad to know that Red Bird's killers are behind bars,

and that Firemaker is safe.

I assume Rain Sky is as well?

He is. Jonah.

You're left-handed.

And what of it?

Oh, the killer was left-handed.

And so?

And so, we're arresting you.

I'm too tired for japes, Mrs. Warne.

You designed the cheat of Mr. Bowlsby's land deal

with Red Bird and Hemphill.

But when they double-crossed you, you killed them.

That is an outrageous accusation.

We have an eyewitness that saw you kill them,

Mr. West. Or should I call you by your Chippewa name,

To the Sunset?

The boy.

You don't think it's loaded, do you?

KATE: When you realized Rain Sky witnessed you murder them,

you hired thugs to kill him.

God, I hate it when she's right.

It wasn't the money. Red Bird double-crossed me!

I thought to save him

by bringing him the benefits of civilization,

but the longer he stayed, the worse he became.

He ruined himself, craving nothing but money!

He made me look ridiculous!

I should never have trusted an Indian.

Take him away.

NARRATOR: Next on The Pinkertons...

(Man grunting in pain)

WOMAN: John Bell.

JOHN: Help!

(Grunting in pain)

He held me at gunpoint!

She's lying!

I'm an innocent man!

What actually happened?

Why don't you ask your friend, John Bell?

KATE: One of them's lying.

WILL: Maybe John's got something to hide.

I own you. Nobody owns me!

Are you sure about that?