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[melancholic music playing]

[muffled shouting]

[animals squealing]

[man singing in Russian]

[gunshot]

[shouting]

[gunshot]

[whip cracking]

[gunfire]

-[shouting] -[hooves clopping]

[whip cracking]

[gunshots]

[glass shattering]

[gunshot]

[gunshot]

[gunshot]

[tense music playing]

[bird chirping]

-[birds chirping] -[insects buzzing]

[birds chirping]

[grunting]

[grim piano music playing]

[door slams closed]

Oh!

Hello!

What can I do you for?

If it's grub you're after,

sorry, no food here today.

But over there at the Owl Club, they'll feed you.

Three meals a day, 50 cents.

Is it a room you're looking for?

All right. It's two dollars a night.

Or if you want to stay the week,

it's 12, paid in advance.

Sundays is free.

[coins clinking]

I like the sound of that.

I'll put you down for the week.

[coins clinking]

Make your mark in the book there.

[moody music playing]

Hm.

What's that say there?

Strindler.

My name is Strindler.

Oh, all right, Strindler.

I'll show you the room.

Right this way.

It's pretty good, it's got a window.

I think you'll like it.

[Strindler] Is there a bed?

[man] There's a bed.

Darn it, Borracho, get off my porch.

[Borracho mumbles]

[man] I don't care! Get a job!

[Borracho] Who the hell do you think you are?

[squeaking]

[indistinct chatter]

[grunts]

[inhales and exhales]

[train whistle blowing]

More cabbage soup?

No.

Brains with peas.

[speaking Spanish]

Got a question.

Ask away.

Who's the big cheese around here?

Do you like some cheese?

No.

No, I asked you who the big cheese is.

The jefe.

Ah, Oso y Chandler.

Who's Oso?

Runs the mine.

And Chandler?

Uh, he owns the big ranch outside town.

Hm. Come here much?

Oso does.

Most days he plays cards with the sheriff and mayor.

You still want that cheese?

Mm-mm.

How about some more brains?

No, thank you, I have enough already.

Vale.

-[groaning] -[thudding]

[indistinct chatter]

[footsteps]

[man] Not again.

May I join you?

[man] This is draw poker.

Three-card draw if you don't want to show,

four if you've an ace.

But if you got the ace, you have to share it with the players.

[Strindler] Sure.

[man] Got that right.

We don't like no snakes in the weeds at this table.

[Strindler] Well, I'm of the same mind, sir.

[coins clinking]

Hm.

[sighs]

Ante.

Ain't no card helping this hand...

No. I'm out.

[man] Me too.

Beginner's luck.

Breeding cattle dogs.

They say they mix 'em with English Collies

and Australian dingoes.

Oh, that must make a very impressive breed.

Your deal.

[man] Ante up.

Ah, thank you, sir.

Oh, excuse me.

You, uh, played this game before, mister?

Well, um...

[clearing throat]

Not lately.

Ante.

Open-pit system

versus the old-fashioned style of mining.

[Strindler] I imagine that leads to excellent mineral extraction.

None for me.

I'm out.

Gentlemen.

Nice playing with you, mister.

I didn't catch your handle.

Oh, my name is Strindler.

I'm Avery Senator, mayor of this city.

This here is Sheriff Purdy.

And Mr. Oso.

So, uh, what line of work you in, Mr. Strindler?

I'm in, uh, government work, sir.

[Sheriff Purdy] Is that right?

Staying long?

Just about a week.

[mayor] Well, that's just dandy.

Why don't you stop by my office on the morrow, Mr. Strindler?

Our city's wide open for government work,

contracts of any kind.

I shall see you tomorrow, sir.

[Sheriff Purdy] Fella talks funny.

He walks funny.

Dresses funny.

[Strindler] 494.

495.

496, 497, 498.

499, 500.

[animals howling]

[soft, tense music playing]

501, 502, 503.

504, 505, 506.

507.

[snoring]

[snoring]

[rooster crowing]

[Strindler] The town hall, sir?

[grunts]

The town hall, sir?

[grunting]

Uh, it's down there.

Get the fuck... it's down there.

Thank you.

[saw scratching]

Ow!

Hey!

Hey! Hey, stranger!

You in need of a coffin?

[footsteps clunking]

City Hall?

[man] Thataway.

[bell jingling]

[chuckling]

[man] Who are you laughin' at?

[water splashing]

[knocking]

Uh, a pleasure, a real pleasure, Mr...

Strindler.

[Mayor Senator] Strindler, of course.

Quite right.

Uh, pull up a chair.

Enjoyed our game last night.

Um...

Grab a glass. How about a sharpener?

[pool balls clacking]

Ah, thank you, sir.

How did your take our sheriff?

He's an educated man, you know.

Were you to visit his house,

the quantity of books he has would strike you.

Unusual for a peace officer.

Yes, speaks well of him.

I asked because you mentioned you're a government man.

There was that little business here a couple of months back.

That's not what brought you here, I hope.

[Strindler] No.

[Mayor Senator] Excellent. Excellent!

The sheriff was entirely justified,

and it was only Mexicans,

but things get blown out of proportion, and...

And the Zamora brothers are well known as troublemakers.

-To progress. -Oh, to progress, sir.

[glasses clink]

Mm.

Ah.

Is it the railroad, then?

Railroad?

[mayor] That's what I guessed you were about.

It bypassed us, you see, but not by far.

If we could persuade the company to, uh,

reroute the line, or to create a spur...

Mr. Mayor, you mentioned Mexicans.

Are there many?

Mexicans? Why, yes.

See, we're so close to the border, and shorthanded.

Terrible shorthanded, as far as workers go.

White men are few and far between.

So you hire many.

Personally, no, I've none in my employ.

White men are few, as I observe,

but you can bet I go out of my way

to hire 'em for all city work.

Oh, yes, indeed!

So, uh, who does employ these Mexicans?

[Mayor Senator] The mines, mostly.

And Chandler's ranch.

Now, pertaining to the railroad...

[cue strikes ball]

[hooves clopping]

[tense rhythmic music playing]

I see you have The Whale by Mr. Melville.

This is a splendid and prophetic book.

The fish wins.

Aye, 'tis a favorite of mine.

Beside it is a copy of With Walker in Nicaragua

by Ephraim Squier.

A signed, first edition, published the same year.

[Strindler] Impressive.

And to think that all this happened only,

what, 40 years ago?

By God, I wish I'd gone with them.

[Strindler] They all died, of course.

[Sheriff Purdy] The man who fears death is not alive.

Let's cut to the quick, Strindler.

Are you here about that Mexican business?

What Mexican business, sir?

[Sheriff Purdy] Involving the Zamora brothers.

I heard one of their sisters went up Tucson way

looking for a federal prosecutor.

No, no, no, no, no, I'm not here about that,

although Mexicans do interest me.

[Sheriff Purdy] How so?

Well, as you know, I work for our government.

Have you a list of Mexicans who died?

Those who were shot or hanged?

[sheriff] Well, there was that Zamora brother.

He's dead, but I don't keep a count.

-[Strindler] Who might? -Our doctor tends to 'em.

He probably keeps a list.

I'd like to meet your doctor, sir.

The corral.

They'll rent you a horse.

I'm an excellent rider, you know.

That's what I hear.

[Sheriff Purdy grunts]

Try this on.

[horse nickering]

Hey, mount her from the left there, partner.

-From the left, you say? -[man] From the left.

From the left, yes, mounting from the left.

They get a little skittish otherwise.

Oh! Oh.

You have done this before, yeah?

Well... not lately.

Hm.

I got another possibility.

A wagon might be a better bet.

[Strindler] A wagon?

[hooves clopping]

So... where do you want to go?

To the doctor's.

Is it far?

Not far.

Not near, neither.

Someone tells you they lives 15 miles away,

it's more like 30.

Hm. And what's your doctor's name?

Hell! I don't know.

Everyone calls him Doc.

And your name, sir?

My name

is Hedley Presner Felman the Third.

Folks 'round here call me Borracho.

-Borracho? -Mm-hm.

It's Mexican for "intelligent."

[melancholic music playing]

[horse neighing]

I am Strindler, ma'am.

So, Doctor, of what do your patients die?

Yes, well, my patients die from many causes.

There's old age, exhaustion, epidemic.

We have deadly fever, smallpox,

um, tuberculosis.

Uh, we have many seasonal reasons for death here.

There's snake bites, buggy accidents.

Syphilis!

Why do you ask?

Oh, just curiosity.

How did our mayor strike you, Mr. Strindler?

Oh, he seems a very worthy man, ma'am.

Oh, please call me Rebecca.

And our sheriff?

Why, he seems intelligent and well-read.

[Rebecca] Mm, yes.

Oh, well, I wish we had more books in the house, but...

-Well, my husband does... -[clears throat]

He does not approve of them.

But, uh, did you meet his wife?

[Strindler] No, I did not.

But I imagine that she, too, is intelligent and well-read.

Rebecca, offer this gentleman a libation.

Oh, would you care for a temperance drink?

Yes, you will enjoy this.

It was formulated by a Georgian pharmacist.

It's a mixture of the coca leaf from Peru

and the cola nut from West Africa.

Effervescent.

Sparks the energy.

Better than tea.

Our boys thrive on this.

-There you go. -Enchanté.

[children yelling]

Oh, what precious children you have!

Themistocles is 11, and Alcides is also 11.

Themistocles, what is the capital of France?

Paris.

[Dr. Stanton] Alcides, the capital of Germany?

[Alcides] Paris.

Such clever children.

-Boys. -Boys!

I'm sure they will go far.

Thank you for saying that.

Themistocles especially has a very sharp mind.

Small bugs, insects, all of that fascinates him.

-[door opens] -[screeching]

[chuckling]

Excuse me, gentlemen.

Themistocles, come back here.

So, uh, offer you a pipe?

Uh, no, no, no.

No thank you, uh, sir.

I don't, uh, I don't smoke.

Well, why not?

[Strindler] I never was inclined.

Well, you should.

It's, uh, good for you.

Cleanses the lungs.

Better than that snuff.

Hmm, yes.

Well...

Doctor...

About these Mexicans...

Yes, the Mexicans.

Well, they live in appalling conditions.

Entirely without morals.

Prone to every disease imaginable.

That's why so many of 'em die.

Well, that's what interests me, sir.

I represent a funeral company.

We sell coffins and headstones, largely to the Hispanic market.

Mm, growth industry.

[Strindler] Yes, it is, sir.

If you could provide me with a list of deceased Mexicans,

including their birth dates and places of residence,

I'd be much obliged.

Well, I don't know how that would be any use to you.

You'd need a list of the live ones.

Ah, yeah, well, you see, my colleague,

he deals with that.

Oh, I see. Well...

Um, I suppose I could ask around.

I'll give you two bits apiece.

-A dollar. -Fifty cents.

Deal.

[soft music playing]

When do you need the list by?

Immediately.

[cap popping]

[glugging]

[grunting]

Boys, ha-ha, when next we meet,

I'll bring you both a pistol and a drum.

[laughter]

Let's go, Borracho.

Ya! Ya! Ya!

[somber music playing]

[birds squawking]

[Borracho] Whoa!

[grunting]

Do those look like the remains of a... of a Mexican to you?

Him look more like a Chinaman to me.

No use to me.

You might be interested in the Widow.

She hires lots of Mexicans.

There's a widow?

What I just said.

Down the road apiece.

[birds chirping]

[widow] And your name is what?

I guess you must be a tax collector.

No, no, no, I am no tax collector, ma'am.

My name is Strindler, and I'm traveling on business.

Ah! So you're a buyer.

I'm sorry to say I sold the last of the honey.

I may have some hemp left.

A few pounds.

I'm interested in commodities of a different kind, ma'am.

Your Mexicans been dying on you?

I can't barely keep them alive.

Eighteen died on me just this year.

Good workers, too.

Last week, my blacksmith went and burned up.

A fire? Oh, dear me.

I didn't say we had a fire.

God spared us that misfortune.

Gonzales burned himself up on his own.

Too much to drink.

A blue flame came up out of him,

and he turned to charcoal.

Best farrier I ever had.

Now, are you sure you don't need any hemp?

Yes, yes, yes, I am entirely sure

that I do not need any hemp.

However, I wonder if you know the names

of those 18 Mexicans of yours who died.

-Of course I do. Why? -I'll take 'em off your hands.

How can you do that?

They're dead.

If you'll give me a list of all 18,

their names, ages, home towns,

I'll give you money for them.

Do you intend to dig them up?

No, no, no, no, all I need is their names.

What for?

Well, ma'am, that's my business.

But they're dead.

I will give you 10 dollars for all 18.

[soft, tense music playing]

Well, Mr. Strangler, we have a deal.

[crickets chirping]

[animals howling]

[Borracho] So, where we headed now, Oso's mine?

What makes you think that?

[Borracho] I don't know.

We been just about everywhere else.

I just figured it was next on the list.

[birds chirping]

-[whirring] -[clacking]

[horse grunts]

[Mr. Oso] But for what?

Sir, I have a contract with the Mexican government.

I am tasked to make this list of their nationals

who pass away abroad.

The government will share this list with their families,

who are naturally concerned.

[Mr. Oso] Bullshit.

Mexican government don't give a damn about these people,

and neither do you.

Give you 50 cents a head.

[Mr. Oso] Ten dollars.

Oh, you can't be serious, sir.

[Mr. Oso] Why not?

See, I got something you want,

and, uh, well, you're not being upfront

about why you want it.

You could be a criminal, for all I know.

What if you're one of them grave robbers?

I'm no body snatcher, sir.

All I need are names.

[Mr. Oso] That's all you'll get.

Most of my Mexicans die when the mines cave in.

Still buried a mile below ground.

Good luck getting them out.

What do you make of our mayor?

-He seems like a worthy man. -He's a bandit.

What about our sheriff?

He appears educated, honest.

No, he's ten times worse.

Stick around and you'll find out.

The only honest man in these parts

is the federal prosecutor from Tucson,

and he is a fuckin' swine.

Hm.

[Mr. Oso] You, uh, met our rancher yet? Chandler?

No, no, I haven't had that privilege.

Biggest miser you never wish to meet.

Richest man in the territory

and he eats worse than his peones.

He hires Mexicans?

Hundreds.

The convicts in Purdy's jail live better than they do.

He starves 'em, and they die like flies.

Is his ranch far?

About ten miles down the road.

-[gasps] -[chuckles]

Five dollars a head, and that's my final offer.

Oh, be serious, sir.

These are dead men's names.

[Mr. Oso] Damn good dead men, too.

Expert miners.

Villareal, he was a top-notch pit boss.

Sandoval ran the mines in Cananea.

And Puente...

Puente was the best damn cap-man I ever saw.

I'll give you 75 cents.

Dollar apiece.

[clinking]

Agreed.

[tense music playing]

-Can you make a list? -Already done.

Heard what you was up to and tallied 'em last night.

-Sixty names. -Hm.

Twenty.

[eerie music playing]

Forty.

Sixty.

I'll get the list.

Go ahead. Take a couple sticks.

I like you.

[sniffs]

[suspenseful music playing]

[Borracho] So, did you make good trade, boss?

[Strindler] Mr. Oso drives a hard bargain.

[Borracho] Hmph.

Is Chandler's ranch very far?

[wagon clattering]

It's 'bout ten miles or so, I reckon.

Hm.

Slow down here, slow down, would you?

There's a wagon coming. See?

I knows my business.

Heh, look at you! You're down in the ditch now.

[insects chirring]

What you galloping at such a clip for?

You drunk or what?

-Quick as you can! -I know what I'm doin'.

[grunts]

Can't you see we're in a hurry?

[grousing]

Good afternoon, ma'am.

So sorry about this inconvenience.

It matters not a whit.

The Lord works in mysterious ways.

Oh, he most certainly does.

[exclaims]

[farts]

Hey! You!

Give us a hand here.

[snorts]

[Borracho] Son of a bitch.

My name is Strindler, ma'am.

Rose. Rose Chandler.

Very pleased to...

Give 'em a touch of the whip!

[breathes heavily]

Hi-yah!

Why were you so rude to that man?

He wasn't to blame.

Got 'em movin', boss!

[unsettling music playing]

They calls that one The Kid.

He rides for Chandler's brand, hm.

You best stay clear of him.

Why?

Well, he was on Purdy's posse.

Now, that little shitbird killed Segundo Zamora.

Shot him right between the eyes.

Huh.

And who's the young lady?

Oh.

Rose is her name.

That there is Chandler's daughter.

You don't say.

[pensive music playing]

Ain't gonna make no headway there.

[insects buzzing]

Who is that man?

[Borracho] That there be Valdez.

He be the foreman of the ranch.

Yo, Valdez.

[speaking Spanish]

[speaking Spanish]

[speaking Spanish]

[speaking Spanish]

Gracias, tonto.

[Valdez] De nada, jerkoff.

[Borracho] Him says, "Chandler ain't at the ranch."

He's gone into town.

There's gonna be a chautauqua tonight, I reckon.

What's a chautauqua?

Ah, you'll find out.

"The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day.

Now spurs the lated traveler apace

to gain the timely inn."

Hamlet?

That be Macbeth,sir.

Well, lead on, Macduff!

"And when at night, our good day done,

I guard my master's head.

'Tis better than the eider duck's deep pillow

to have shared.

To foe of his, I'm deadly foe.

None stir the second time

on whom I lay a yellow eye or an emphatic thumb.

Though I than he may longer live,

He longer must, than I.

For I have the power to kill

without the power to die"

[applause]

A beautiful reading by Sheriff Purdy,

who is standing for reelection, as I'm sure you know!

[laughs]

But what was the name of that poem, Sheriff?

Ah! "My Life Had Stood a Loaded Gun,"

by the late Miss Emily Dickinson.

Ah!

[chuckling]

Next on our agenda of auditory and intellectual delight,

Miss Rose Chandler will be entertaining us with a hymn.

[applause]

What is the hymn called, Miss Rose?

Mr. Mayor, the name of the hymn is

"Gladly My Little Cross I'd Bear."

[applause]

[cueing note]

♪ I will always follow Him Gladly the cross I'd bear ♪

♪ Even at the gates of Hell I will not despair♪

♪ My devotion constantly Gladly the cross I'd bear ♪

♪ Let me walk along with Him Avoid temptation's lair ♪

[The Widow] That's him.

[Rose] ♪ Gladly the cross I'd bear ♪

[The Widow] He's been going around buying up dead Mexicans.

I sold him 18 for $10.

But I hear he's paying a lot more.

Pull up a chair!

♪ Gladly the cross I'd bear ♪

♪ If I walk beside Him He will take me there ♪♪

You know our sheriff?

-Of course, yes, yes. -This here's Colonel Chandler.

I am Strindler, sir.

What's he want Mexes for?

[The Widow] Who cares?

All I know is, he shorted me,

and him a millionaire.

Sensitive and exquisitely interpreted, mademoiselle!

Thank you.

[applause]

[Mayor Senator] And now,

Mr. Crocker will enthrall us all with his popular rendition of...

Uh...

"The Night on Bare Mountain."

[Mayor Senator] Applause for Mr. Crocker!

[applause]

[disturbing music playing]

Diogenes. Now, that was a philosopher.

Right, Strindler?

Diogenes! Yes, indeed, Sheriff.

Well! If it ain't the millionaire.

I hear you're buying Mexicans.

Regarding Diogenes, you know, by, uh...

In his day, he walked through the streets in daylight

carrying a lamp, you know why?

He was looking for one honest man.

What did he want the lamp for, if it was daylight?

Hey, Pops! I'm talkin' to you.

What you gonna do with all them dead corpses you been buyin' up?

If you'll excuse me, I'll be with you shortly.

Who you calling "Shorty"?

[scoffs]

If it's dead Mexicans you're buyin',

I sure can sell you a few!

-That's enough, Kid! -No, it ain't!

C'mon, Pops.

Gimme a kiss!

[frantic music playing]

[dramatic music playing]

[thud]

Fill your hand, you son of a bitch!

I beg your pardon?

I said, make your play!

I-I... But what...

He means he wants you to shoot it out with him!

But I'm unarmed!

[jangling sound]

[breathing heavily]

Well then, heel yourself, you damn cobarde.

And I'll see you on that street.

Tomorrow, 10 a.m.

Get out of my way.

[spurs jangling heavily]

[door creaks, slams]

[male singer] ♪ Oh bury me out ♪

♪ On the lone prairie ♪

♪ Where the coyotes howl ♪

♪ And the wind blows free ♪

♪ And when I die ♪

♪ You can bury me ♪

♪ 'Neath the western sky ♪

♪ On the lone prairie ♪

♪ I'm a rovin' cowboy Far away from home ♪

♪ Far from the trails Where I used to roam ♪

♪ And when I die You can take me home ♪

♪ To the land I love And the trails I roamed ♪

♪ Oh bury me out On the lone prairie ♪

♪ Where the coyotes howl And the wind blows free ♪

♪ And when I die ♪

♪ You can bury me ♪

♪ 'Neath the western sky On the lone prairie ♪♪

[animals calling]

[soothing guitar music playing]

[door opens, creaks]

[door closes]

-[Strindler] Tequila, please. -[speaking Spanish]

Mezcal, then.

[soft laughter nearby]

[indistinct whispering]

[sniffs]

-[glass thuds on bar] -Y Zamora?

Join you?

It's solitaire.

I didn't tell you to sit down.

Sit down.

[coins clink]

[sharp thud]

Looks like you have a job you want done.

I heard about you.

You're the gringo who goes around making lists of people.

Sounds like you got in trouble with The Kid.

The Kid murdered my brother.

My condolences.

You want to talk?

[insects chirring]

[hooves crunching]

[birds chirping]

[Crocker] Hands up!

So, Strindler. You have done this before, right?

Well, not, not lately, no.

Well, what it is, you two will stand back to back.

You take your ten paces.

And on the tenth step, you stop,

turn, draw your weapon, and fire.

[gun cocking]

Now, I beg your pardon, sir.

There's a railroad spur about ten miles up the road.

I could run you up there.

[Crocker] Look, Mr. Borracho's got a point.

You might want to hedge your bets.

No, no. But, gentlemen, I appreciate your concern.

But my work here is not yet done.

[gun thuds]

[scoffing]

Why are you both looking out of the window like that?

[tense music playing]

[spurs clanging]

[Sheriff Purdy] Gentlemen.

Let's go over the rules.

Back to back, ten paces, I count 'em.

I get to ten, you turn and fire, understood?

Yes.

Let's get to it.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

I knew it, you bastard!

[Sheriff Purdy] Nine.

Ten.

[bullet whizzes]

[gunshot]

[gunshot]

[intense music playing]

[grunts]

[fly buzzes]

[pool balls clacking]

And so it seems that after

Mr. Strindler shot The Kid in self-defense,

in a fair duel initiated by The Kid,

the latter's gun went off in his expiring hand,

and the stray bullet

accidentally killed our sheriff.

Any objections?

Mr. Strindler is exonerated.

[gavel banging]

Let's go get a drink.

[man] Yeah!

Come on, brother, let's go get one.

[laughter, chatter]

[wind howling]

[heavy scraping]

♪ As I walked out In the streets of Laredo ♪

♪ As I walked out In Laredo one day ♪

♪ I spied a young cowboy ♪

♪ Wrapped all in white linen ♪

♪ Wrapped in white linen As cold as the clay ♪

[bright music playing]

♪ I see by your outfit That you are a cowboy ♪

♪ These words he did say As I boldly walked by ♪

♪ Come sit down beside me And hear my sad story ♪

♪ I'm shot in the head And I know I must die ♪

♪ Go, fetch me some water A cold cup of water ♪

♪ Quench my parched lips ♪

[female singer] ♪ The poor cowboy said ♪

♪ Before I could do it His spirit had left him ♪

♪ Gone to his maker The cowboy was dead ♪

♪ So, beat the drum slowly And play the fife lowly ♪

♪ Sing the death march As you carry him along ♪

♪ Take him to the valley There lay the sod over ♪

♪ He's a young cowboy And I know he done wrong ♪

♪ He's a young cowboy And I know he done wrong ♪♪

[her voice echoes]

[lid slams loudly]

[bird chirping]

[dog barking]

[overlapping chatter]

-Here's to the sheriff's health. -Pardon?

[Mayor Senator] Here's to the sheriff's health!

Oh, yeah, yeah. Cheers! To the sheriff.

I'm taking up a collection for his wife.

The poor woman is all alone in the world.

Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, sir.

But unfortunately, my resources are a little depleted.

-Could I get another one, too? -Of course.

Still planning on staying long?

[Strindler] Oh, couple days, couple days. Why?

Oh, no reason.

I hear we can expect a visit from our federal prosecutor.

[Strindler] Really?

Perhaps you'll have the opportunity to meet.

Maybe we will, sir.

Do you know what? I think I've misplaced my snuff.

Would you excuse me?

I'll have another.

[chaotic cheering]

[cattle mooing]

[birds chirping]

[dog barking]

[wagon approaching]

[clock ticking]

Hey, look here, old boy.

Give me a hand with this skinflint, will you?

I'm running real low on funds.

I know you know how that is.

Mister, uh...

Oh. Strindler, sir!

The-the Reverend Strindler!

Won't you be seated?

Uh, thank you.

[Chandler sighs]

[Colonel Chandler] I rarely entertain guests, Reverend.

Oh, I understand, sir, your--

your ranch must-- must keep you very busy.

[Colonel Chandler] To be frank, I see no point in it.

People who drop by neglect their own business

and expect me to give their horses hay.

Oh, well, there'll be no need for that.

That's good, because there ain't any.

My Mexicans are a lazy crew,

half drunk most of the time and useless for work.

Oh!

And yet, you employ hundreds. -Oh, not nearly that many.

Half of 'em have run off or died of the fever.

Well, sir,

that is why I am here.

I represent a religious charity

honoring those poor, devout Mexican field workers

who pass away

for the good of their immortal souls.

Total rubbish. What is wrong with you, man?

Oh, I-I don't quite understand.

You have a portrait of our Lord here upon on your wall.

[Colonel Chandler] My daughter put the damn thing up there.

Or my departed wife.

I do not recall.

Superstitious nonsense! I do not hold with it.

Oh, and how is your daughter, sir?

She refuses to see anyone.

It seems she was sweet on that young idiot

who got his head shot off.

You killed him, didn't you?

[clears throat]

-Care for a little snuff? -I never touch the filthy stuff.

Quite right, too, sir!

Regarding The Kid, I feel that his demise was inevitable.

These are violent times,

and righteous persons like ourselves...

[Colonel Chandler] I do not hold with righteousness, neither.

It is just a veil for hypocrisy and bullshit.

[dark music playing]

How many dead Mexicans you got?

Approximately 80, why?

Give you 75 cents apiece

for their names and birthplaces.

-75 cents, seriously? -[Strindler] Yes.

Oh, well, in that case...

I may have as many as 120.

That's fine, sir. My offer still stands.

I must consult with my foreman.

Valdez! Valdez!

Valdez, ¿donde esta?

Sir, we have a deal.

A done deal, sir!

Valdez! ¿Donde esta?

[Valdez] Sí, jefe. ¿Que paso?

[speaking Spanish]

-Sí, jefe. -¡Rápido! ¡Ándale!

[Valdez] Sí, jefe.

We must celebrate with a drink!

I would offer you dinner, but we have no food here.

It's quite all right, sir, the list will be sufficient.

Nonsense! Nonsense!

We really must have a drink.

My wife made this some 17 years ago.

Over time, it collected some bugs and shit in there, but...

I scooped all that out, and it is very clean now.

[liquid sloshing]

Very clean.

Cheers, Mr. Strindler.

Cheers, Colonel!

[audible gulp]

[Strindler groans]

[Borracho] You don't look so good.

[Strindler] I don't feel so good.

Who is that man?

I have no idea.

He claims to be a preacher.

-And yet, he killed The Kid. -Good thing, too.

The Kid was a braggart and a lousy hand.

At least he's a decent shot,

more than you can say for most God-botherers.

You didn't give him any of that stuff,

did you?

Why not?

It was good when your mother made it 17 years ago,

it's still good today.

[vomiting]

[groans]

[Strindler] Get away!

[Borracho belches]

[Borracho] So.

You do good business in there?

-Care for a shot? -Yeah.

All right.

[Strindler exclaims]

Borracho.

Tomorrow, you must take me to the railroad station.

Sure. Then you done with me?

Not at all, good Borracho.

After you leave me there,

I want you to go directly to El Paso, Texas.

Get there in two days' time.

You know where that is?

Happens I do. But-but why? Why don't we go together?

That is none of your concern.

Stop the wagon, please!

We ain't movin', boss.

[vomits]

God.

All right, day after tomorrow.

El Paso, Texas, behind the Customs House.

Agreed?

Whatever, general.

-[Strindler retching] -Haw!

[tapping box]

[snorts]

[sighs]

♪ Gladly, my little cross I'd bear ♪

♪ I'll follow Jesus Everywhere♪

♪ 'Cause He's with me I won't despair ♪

♪ And my little cross I'd-- ♪♪

[thunder cracks]

[Zamora] Leaving town, amigo?

Not quite yet.

[thunder rumbling]

Come have a drink with me.

[jaunty music playing]

Before you go,

we need to reach an understanding.

[musician vocalizing]

What's the matter?

Don't you like music?

No.

[Zamora] Shh!

[thunder booming]

[door creaks]

I've been thinking.

Seems to me the money you gave me was a down payment.

A prelude to our partnership.

You bought a lot of dead souls here.

My people's souls.

You paid a tidy sum.

[thunder rumbling]

So, there's money to be made.

You're leaving town tomorrow,

and the road is dangerous.

We'll go together.

I figured you're going to where our money is.

So, we both go.

Share it.

Fifty-fifty.

Like amigos.

Or I kill you.

[thunder rumbling]

[glasses clink]

[glasses thud]

[insects chirring]

[thunder cracking]

[match scraping]

[flame crackling]

[flame hissing]

[clattering crash]

[loud blast]

[eerie music playing]

[wind gusting]

♪ I came to Jordan ♪

♪ What did I see? ♪

♪ Comin' for to carry me home ♪

[grunts]

[slurred singing]

♪ Comin' for to carry me home ♪

♪ Swing low, sweet chariot ♪

♪ Comin' for to carry me ♪♪

[door creaks open]

[train whistle blares]

[train trundling]

[dark music playing]

[horses whinnying]

[church bell ringing]

[overlapping town sounds]

Good morning.

[knocking]

That's what he did.

[bell tolling]

Made a fool of himself and the...

[liquid pouring]

Officer Behan will be with you in just a moment, Minister.

Well, thank you, my child.

[clock ticking]

[squeaking, clattering]

[Officer Behan] Ah.

Hoo.

[snaps, claps]

Sorry to keep you waiting, Reverend.

-It's quite all right, sir. -Government work, you know.

Please, have a seat.

Now how may I assist?

Well, I, uh, I sent you a letter.

Oh, but you most certainly did.

Gracias.

"Dear Officer Behan,

I have the honor of contacting you

at the request of members of my church,

the Fraternal Fellowship of Universal Brotherhood.

My fellowship dedicates itself to reforming former Catholics

and inducing them to right their wrongs.

At my intervention, many Mexicans,

illegally present in the Arizona Territory...

have returned to their homes.

I look forward to meeting you

and presenting a written record of these Mexicans,

whom I have persuaded to depart the state,

in the pursuit of our government's worthy goals.

Sincerely, the Reverend Strindler."

Above a picture of a mestizo child,

a little motto:

"Gladly My Little Cross I'd Bear."

Hm.

Well, congratulations, Reverend.

Good work.

Sir.

I have here a list of 750 Mexicans,

including their birth places and birth dates,

whom I have brought to Jesus and returned home.

[Officer Behan] Ah!

Well! Commendable.

But I am the, uh, Chinese exclusionary officer.

So I don't deal in Mexicans.

How much do they pay you per Chinaman?

[Behan scoffs]

$10.15.

And that's for tracking them down and deporting them.

You see, uh,

the problem with Mexicans, as I'm sure you're aware,

is that they aren't counted on the Census.

This makes them very difficult to exclude.

But in many ways, they're worse than the Chinese.

They have the tendency to intermarry.

Mm.

This increases the number of half breeds,

adding to the disorder.

[coughing]

Why not make an exception in this case?

Hm.

How much do you want for the whole list?

$7,000.

[whimper-laughs]

I'll give you five thousand.

-Cash? -Mm.

Will have to be sent via wire transfer.

That's how government work is done, you see.

[writing]

[paper rips]

Union Bank, Lamy, New Mexico.

Okay. This'll take a few days, Reverend.

Oh, I have total confidence in you, sir.

Well...

I see you're admiring my machine!

I ride that thing back and forth across the border

escorting prisoners.

Saving our government substantial crossing fees.

Costs a dollar or a gold peso to cross on a horse.

The bicycle goes gratis!

[chuckling]

Thank you, sir, for your service.

Happy trails!

[lively music playing]

[laughing]

[indistinct chatter]

[music stops]

[applause]

[glasses clink]

[whoosh]

[glasses clink]

[whoosh]

[man] Strindler!

No, what? Agh!

What?

What is the...

what is the meaning of this outrage?

You let me out now!

I am the Reverend Strindler!

[panting]

[gate squeaks closed]

[panting]

[insects chirring]

[birds chirping]

-[keys jangling] -[footsteps]

[gate opens]

[man] Hm. Go on.

-[man] All right. -[man 2] All right, all right.

[gate closes]

[gate squeaks closed]

[snorts]

[items clatter]

[lid closes]

[distant dog barking]

-[insects chirring] -[coyotes howling]

[gate clanging]

[gate creaks open]

-Swindler. -Hm?

[groans]

[distant gunshot]

-[man] Swindler! -Huh?

My name is not Swindler, it's Strindler.

Be silent.

I'm Samuel S. Vistov,

federal prosecutor from Tucson.

You're in big trouble.

No, I'm not.

I am a man of God and a successful businessman.

Don't give me any of your bullshit, Swindler.

I know you're a confidence man...

wanted in Arizona Territory...

for desecrating a cemetery,

dynamiting a cantina,

and forging a widow's will.

What the devil do you mean?

I-I never forged a widow's will.

[Samuel] Why, sure you did.

I mean to extradite you,

put you on trial,

get a conviction,

and send you off to the federal prison in Yuma.

Unless...

Unless what?

[Samuel] Well, you see,

my deputies,

they went through your pockets and bags.

They didn't find a thing.

Now, I know you're down to your last couple bucks.

Yet back there in the Territory,

you were spending money like it was, uh,

going out of style.

Also...

You were engaged in that bunco scheme

involving dead Mexicans.

-Am I right? -No, no, no.

I can explain that.

You see I work for the U.S. Census,

and I've been compiling a list of deceased farm workers.

-I just... -Oh, horsefeathers!

I don't know what your angle is,

but I sense there's, uh, money in it.

And I'm prepared to make a deal.

What kind of deal?

[Samuel] Well, you've got dollars stashed someplace.

Cut me in.

95%.

And I'll let you walk free.

[Strindler] 95%?

Sure.

That widow who made those false statements against you,

I'll have her arrested and thrown in jail.

And all those other complaints against you,

I'll just have them dismissed.

And those Mexicans whom you murdered,

and whose graves you defiled,

well, they can just swing in the wind.

You can do all this?

I'm a federal prosecutor, Swindler.

[tense music playing]

You're just a silly old man,

unsuited for our modern times.

But because I'm kind...

I won't hold this against you.

I'll be back here, one hour, Swindler.

That's one hour, Swindler.

We'll go dig up that money.

Yeah.

We could even part as friends.

[sighs]

[gate creaks closed]

[groans]

[creaking]

-Reverend Strindler! -What? What? What?

Agh!

Oh.

Miss Chandler!

I must speak with you, most urgently.

Reverend, you stand accused of dreadful deeds.

Yeah, but I can explain.

Five days ago, you fought a wicked duel

with a young man whom I esteemed.

He died as a result,

killing our sheriff in the process.

Ah, yeah, but that's, you see...

The next day, it is said that you defiled a cemetery,

murdered several Mexicans,

and forged a widow's will.

What? No, I did not forge a widow's will!

Reverend.

I did not journey all this distance

simply to dispute with you.

You are accused of heinous crimes.

And yet, based on our brief acquaintance,

I believe that there is good in you.

[soft music playing]

I've come to hear your story.

Oh.

Benefactress!

[weeping]

I am being most serious, Reverend.

If I am to assist you, you must tell the truth.

Who are you?

Why have you done these things?

Oh, Ma'am, I was tempted by Satan, the Deceiver,

but I swear to you, I know nothing

of Derringers, pistols, murderings.

[Rose] Speak the truth, Strindler!

What has brought you to this sorry pass?

You genuinely care to hear?

[Rose] Yes, I do.

Now, calm yourself,

reflect on how to make peace with God,

and give some thought to your poor soul.

[soft, eerie music playing]

Very well, benefactress.

You alone shall hear Strindler's tale.

[mysterious music playing]

As a lad...

I resembled neither my mother nor my father.

From the beginning,

life gazed on me in a dour and unwelcoming way.

There was no friend,

no playmate for my childhood.

My father taught me the eternal maxims.

Not to be caught in a lie.

To show obedience to my elders.

And to nurture the appearance of virtue.

At parting, no tear fell from paternal eyes.

See that you do your lessons, Strindler.

Don't be naughty, and stay out of mischief.

And above all, try to please your teachers and superiors.

I will, Papa.

Shut up and listen!

Don't get too close to your schoolmates.

Only make friends with those who are better off.

They can be of use to you.

And above all, never spend a red cent!

Your friends will betray you, but money never will.

Yes, Papa.

Silence!

You can do anything,

overcome anything in this world with money, lad.

[suitcases clatter]

Oh, Papa, may I not stay with you, Mama,

and Uncle Sancho?

Sinful, stupid Strindler!

Wicked boy!

Begone!

Hiya!

[sled bells jingling]

[pensive music playing]

[wind howling]

[wolf howls]

[snoring]

[items clatter]

Who's here?

Oh!

[gate creaks open]

[door creaks open]

[mystical whooshing sound]

[door opens]

[digital phone ringing]

[whirring]

[digital phone ringing]

[tinny, echoing footsteps]

[digital phone ringing]

Hello?

[staticky indistinct speaking]

[phone clatters]

[speaking continues]

[whirring]

[whirring]

[whooshing]

[knocking]

Take a seat.

I didn't tell you to sit down.

She's only kidding.

Sit down, Strindler.

We are engaged in a highly sensitive project.

Tallying the totals of the dead.

You have some expertise here, do you not?

Well, yes, I do, to a certain extent.

-Mm. -1844.

Lists of deceased serfs in Kievan Rus'

delivered to the Peerage Ministry.

1890, a record of dead Mexicans in the Arizona Territory

prepared for the exclusion officer in Texas.

1929, Nicaraguan insurgents killed by the Marine Corps,

comprehensive tally.

1945, Strindler's list.

Impressive.

Well, thank you.

I do my best.

[woman] Our country needs an accurate estimate

of enemy losses in the three wars

that we're currently fighting.

How many Russians have we killed today?

How many Chinese?

How many Peruvians?

And how did they die?

Via ordnance?

Partisan activities?

Or bioweapons tailored to their genetic provenance?

You want this to be an accurate list?

[woman] Of course.

Accurate figures depicting best practice on our part.

How we're killing many more of the enemy

than we originally estimated.

Backed up by solid data, naturally.

We envision this as an AI-centric project.

So, you'll have all the necessary support

you will need to come to the necessary conclusions.

What's the pay?

[woman] $10.15 for every Russian.

$10.06 for a Chinaman.

[man] And for Peruvians, we'll throw in .000512 bitcoin.

You'll have to set up a hardware wallet, of course.

-I'll need to think about this. -[woman] Don't think too long.

-But I... -Don't.

[snoring]

I'll need to think about this.

[birds chirping]

Well, I'll need to...

I'll...

Huh?

[bell tolling]

[grunts]

[speaking French]

[rattling]

[door creaks open]

Borracho!

Well, I told you to meet me behind the Customs House!

This here is the Customs House.

It is?

Yeah. It also be the town jail.

Oh. Oh.

How the fuck did you get out of there?

Well, it's a long story, my friend.

Well, get your skinny ass up here on the buckboard.

Shall we?

[exclaims in Spanish]

So, which ways we goin' now, Captain?

North, then west.

Why, here comes Johnny Behan.

Well, uh, uh, good morning!

Well, you're up and about quite early, aren't you?

Oh, well, you know the Lord's work

waits for no man.

Well, you know, I wanted to tell you,

those Mexicans, uh, they all seem to have lit out,

just like you said.

I telegraphed that money to the church in Lamy.

It'll be waiting for you when you arrive.

[Strindler] Thank you so much, sir.

My congregation will be much obliged.

Oh, uh, well,

I did have to deduct a small percentage.

Cost of the cable. Hope you don't mind.

No, no, no, of course, sir.

It's quite all right.

Safe travels, Reverend.

Do I know you?

Oh, this man, uh, uh, he is Deacon Barr,

one of my most devout, uh, parishioners.

Oh, well!

Pleased to meet you, Deacon.

[growls softly]

Now, if you'll excuse me,

I've got a few Chinamen to deport.

[chuckles]

You're a man of the future, Strindler.

My door is always open to you.

-[Borracho urges horse] -Come on!

[Borracho] Yah! Yah!

Sure your door's always open.

Johnny fucking Behan!

That little shit used to be the governor

of the goddamn Yuma Jail!

What the fuck's he up to now?

Government work.

[lively music playing]

-[Behan] Hola! Good morning. -Hola, amigo.

Okay, this one is a cook.

The two, I reckon, are good for laundry.

[speaking Spanish]

[speaking Spanish]

Gracias.

Adios, amigo.

[speaking Spanish]

[speaking Spanish]

[Borracho] So, west to Roswell, then north to Lamy?

[Strindler] Sounds about right.

And you have no idea how he acquired the key?

None, Mr. Prosecutor.

I addressed him via the prison bars.

Where do you think he went?

[soft music playing]

Mexico.

Yes, surely Strindler is bound for Sonora.

[bicycle squealing]

Thank you, Ma'am.

You've been of considerable assistance.

It is my pleasure, sir.

[moody music playing]

[Borracho] I had the worst dream last night.

You was in it.

We was in some big city, Denver, Blackhawk, maybe.

And there was these big mansions

rising way up high.

And yet...

everywhere you looked, there was poor people,

sleeping on the streets,

living in tents.

And the worst thing of it were...

it weren't just Denver, sir.

It was like that all over the world.

Everywhere.

Oh, what you've experienced, Borracho,

is what the French would call a cauchemar,

fever dream!

[laughs]

You can rest assured, my friend,

such things will never happen.

Well, I sure hope you're right, Professor.

I sure do.

[horse nickers]

[music darkens]

[snorts]

[music softens]

Care for a pinch?

No, thank you kindly, Captain.

To each his own devices.

[cork pops]

[chugging]

[sighs]

[horse nickers]

[horse snorts]

[Borracho] ♪ Oh The Yellow Rose of Texas ♪

♪ And the Man from Laramie ♪

♪ Invited Davy Crockett To have a cup of tea ♪

♪ Oh, the tea was so delicious He had another cup ♪

♪ And left poor Davy Crockett To do the washing up ♪♪

[soft, tense music playing]

Did you compose that song yourself, Borracho?

Indeed I did, Reverend.

Would you like to hear some more?

Absolutely.

♪ Oh ♪

♪ The Yellow Rose of Texas ♪

[gun cocks]

[birds chirping]

[tense music playing]

[suspenseful music playing]

[gun hammer clicking]

♪ From Laramie ♪

♪ Invited Davy Crockett To have a cup of tea ♪

♪ Well, the tea Was so delicious ♪

♪ They had another ♪

-[gunshot] -[groans]

[grunting]

-[gunshot] -[shouts]

[tense music playing]

[horse grunting]

[vultures squawking]

What'd I tell you?

Stay back, Princess.

[grim music playing]

Good and dead.

Mr. Swindler.

Let's see if you got that bank book on you now.

[sighs]

All right.

[suspenseful music playing]

Surprise!

[gunshot]

[laughing]

Shit!

Shit!

[eerie music playing]

No!

Ah.

Ah!

[shouting]

[chuckling]

You see?

I am no swindler.

I am Strindler.

[sighs]

Strindler.

Oh!

[unsettling music playing]

[laughing]

[clattering]

I am Strindler.

Strindler.

Strindler.

Strindler!

I am Strindler!

[vultures screeching]

Strindler.

Strindler!

Strindler!

Ha!

[creatures chirping, howling]

[eerie musical flourish]

["Be Careful What You Pray For" by Heathen Apostles]

[Mather] ♪ Here is the light And lo, here is the way ♪

♪ Ushering judgement With these hands that pray ♪

♪ Never mind what the good book Is commanding ♪

♪ I know that I still remain In good standing ♪

♪ You think You're drawin' an ace ♪

♪ But you're fallin' From grace ♪

♪ This ain't Some kinda Holy War ♪

♪ When the Faith is ablaze And you're all outta praise ♪

♪ Be careful What you pray for ♪

♪ Here is the church And here is the steeple ♪

♪ Closing our doors To the undesired people ♪

♪ Whom shall we pluck out If they so offend us? ♪

♪ Justified because our anger Is righteous ♪

♪ You think You're drawin' an ace ♪

♪ But you're fallin' From grace ♪

♪ This ain't Some kinda Holy War ♪

♪ When the Faith is ablaze And you're all outta praise ♪

♪ Be careful What you pray for ♪

♪ You think You're drawin' an ace ♪

♪ But you're fallin' From grace ♪

♪ This ain't Some kinda Holy War ♪

♪ When the Faith is ablaze And you're all outta praise ♪

♪ Be careful What you pray for ♪

♪ You think You're drawin' an ace ♪

♪ But you're fallin' From grace ♪

♪ This ain't Some kinda Holy War ♪

♪ When the Faith is ablaze And you're all outta praise ♪

♪ Be careful What you pray for ♪

♪ This ain't Some kinda Holy War ♪

♪ When the Faith is ablaze And you're all outta praise ♪

♪ Oh, be careful What you pray for ♪

♪ You think You're drawin' an ace ♪

♪ But you're fallin' From grace ♪

♪ This ain't Some kinda Holy War ♪

♪ When the Faith is ablaze And you're all outta praise ♪

♪ Ooh, be careful What you pray for ♪