Original subtitles

It's quite a parade, ain't it?

Terrible, Will. Terrible.

Yes, sir.

It's quite a parade.

I count 23 dead

the burial detail's bringin' in.

Well...

there ain't no way to tell,

I guess, uh, which-

That's right.

How you gonna recognize a man?

Even your own brother,

when they got him tied in a canvas sack.

Anyway, you probably

couldn't recognize him

after what them Comanches did to him.

They probably- That's enough, Clay.

Mr. Bailey...

I'm sure sorry about your brother.

Yeah, we're all sorry, ain't we?

A whole cavalry patrol.

Twenty-three men.

Dead.

We're sorry, and that's the end of it.

Now, Will, you can't get- Hell, maybe they'll put up

a marker out there

at Cold Creek, where it all happened.

I know how you feel, Mr. Bailey.

Do you?

There ought to be plenty more

who feel the same way.

Ain't gonna be hard to get up a posse

to go out after some Indian scalps.

No, sir, it ain't.

And that's a fact.

I can tell you the one that's gonna die first.

This one!

Ridin' along as brazen as anything,

right behind the men he killed.

Amos Cartwright?

Oh, now, Mr. Bailey, that-

That's right.

Amos Cartwright.

Twenty-fourth man in that patrol.

The only one to come back alive.

The scout that led 'em into ambush.

Mr. Bailey, that's just a wild idea.

There ain't a shred of proof.

I don't need no proof. I know.

That scum killed my brother.

And I'm gonna kill him.

It's gonna be up to us, boys.

You know that, don't you?

That's right, Will. We don't blame you.

Everybody here with Will on this?

Hello, Matt.

Hello, Kitty.

I was wonderin' where you were.

You're late for lunch.

Yeah, I wasn't too hungry, I guess.

Cook made up some of that stew you like.

Oh, yeah?

Well, in that case, I guess I could manage a little.

Sam'll get it. Go on over and sit down.

Yeah, in just a minute. I, uh-

I wanna talk to somebody first.

Matt.

Never mind about Will Bailey.

He's got a right to be upset about his brother.

Tell Sam to bring me a bread heel

with that stew, will you?

Bailey.

Hello, marshal.

I heard about your brother. I'm sorry.

Yeah, thanks.

I also heard you talkin' some about getting up a posse.

That's right.

You better let the cavalry handle that.

Cavalry?

Take them weeks to get ready.

By that time them Comanches wouldn't be

anywhere near Cold Creek.

They're nowhere near there now.

But you're not particular

about which Indians you find, are you?

That's right.

Way I look at it, an Indian's an Indian.

Any one of 'em alive's too many.

That'd do a lot of good, wouldn't it, Bailey?

Starting an Indian war all over again...

so a lot more men could die.

I ain't gonna argue with you, marshal.

'Cause it's none of your business anyhow.

Maybe not.

But something else you've been saying

is my business.

I understand you've been threatening

to kill Amos Cartwright.

That's right.

Well, don't try it.

Not in Dodge anyway.

You aiming to protect that filthy murderer, marshal?

You got any proof against him,

you swear out a warrant, and I'll arrest him.

Otherwise...

Proof?

Look, I've known Amos Cartwright

a good many years.

He's always been a reliable man.

He was the only one to come back

from Cold Creek alive too, wasn't he?

He was scouting.

He was out ahead.

That's right.

He was supposed to spot them Comanches too, wasn't he?

But he didn't.

You know why?

Because he's a Comanche himself.

He lived with 'em...

married one...

rode on war parties with 'em.

And led that patrol into ambush for 'em.

Killing Amos Cartwright's not gonna help your brother, Bailey.

But it is gonna get you in trouble with the law.

I reckon I'll just have to

take my chances on that, marshal.

All right.

Maybe you'll cool off in a couple of days,

see some reason.

Maybe.

Thanks, Sam.

Sit down, Kitty.

Thanks, Matt.

That Will Bailey is sure riled up.

Guess I can't blame him too much.

Well...

not too much, I guess.

Do you think what he says about Amos is true?

I don't think you ought to condemn a man without proof.

Matt.

Okay, hold it.

Don't touch that gun.

All right, just stay like that.

Amos, maybe you'd better find someplace else to eat today.

I come to see the man that's doing all the talkin' about me.

All right, you've seen him. Now go on.

Mister, I don't allow nobody

to say things about me.

I said 'em, and I'll say 'em again.

You're no better than a Comanche yourself.

You're a lying, sneaking, murdering redskin-

That's enough, Bailey.

Sit down.

Come on, Amos.

I'll see you, mister.

Later.

Will, no!

Where are you taking me, marshal?

Oh, just outside here, Amos.

Look, Amos...

this thing'll blow over in a couple of days,

but, uh, until then I think

you'd better stay out at the fort.

I don't fear him.

Well, it's not just him, Amos.

He's got half the town believing it.

Don't worry none about me, marshal.

I know how to handle this.

Well, I hope so, Amos.

I sure hope so.

Mr. Dillon?!

Hello, Chester.

My, I'm sure glad you're back.

Why, what's the matter?

Just what you was afraid of:

Bailey and Amos.

Bailey's dead. Bailey?

That's right.

Doc's got him up at the office.

All right.

Amos heard that Bailey was hunting him,

so he laid for him and jumped him with a knife.

Where was this?

Over by the livery stable.

He got clean away too,

before anybody knew what happened.

Hello, Doc. Where you been?

I've been at the fort trying to get a statement

from the colonel.

A statement to clear Amos.

Well, did you get it?

No. Colonel wouldn't commit himself.

Pending further investigation.

Yeah, looks like you're wasting your time, anyways,

trying to clear Amos.

Yeah. Where's Bailey?

Oh.

In here.

Oh, my.

Yeah.

Well, that Amos has gone all Comanche now,

and that's a fact.

Yeah, well, he didn't have to do that.

Nobody saw Amos leave town?

Nope. Got away clean as a whistle.

Probably headed south into Comanche territory

maybe...two hours ago.

Matt.

You can't go down there after him.

Not with all that Indian trouble.

I don't tell you how to set bones, do I, Doc?

Well, use your head.

Maybe if I'd used my head,

Bailey would still have his hair.

Well, I don't see a thing, Mr. Dillon.

You think we're gaining on him?

Should be.

Well, we can't find him too soon for me.

We sure picked a day for it.

Look here.

Tracks of an unshod Indian pony.

They'd been following him for several miles.

You think they're riding together?

No. All the Indians staying behind, trailing.

Why?

I don't know.

But Amos is wandering...

like he can't make up his mind which way to go.

Maybe he's trying to throw us off his trail.

No. He wouldn't be expecting anybody

to follow him way out here.

Well...

Beats me.

Mr. Dillon. Here's something.

Looks like that Indian pony just stopped here and stood.

Yeah.

He was probably looking out there...

watching Amos, whichever way he went.

And then he...

turned off and went that way.

Yeah. Running.

See the way those prints dig in and stretch out?

What do you think that means?

I think we better find Amos, quick.

Hold it, Amos.

Put it down.

Just stand right there.

You didn't give me no fair draw, marshal.

No more than you gave Bailey.

I'm gonna get you back to Dodge alive.

Sit down.

All right, Chester.

You figuring to ride tonight?

Later.

After the horses are rested.

You think you can get me back to Dodge, marshal?

I think so.

This is Comanche country, remember.

I wouldn't count too much on that, Amos.

I shouldn't think those Comanches

would be too fond of you right now.

Why not?

Like Bailey said...

I'm almost one myself.

Yeah, but there were Comanches

killed at Cold Creek too.

Some.

They must know you were scouting for the bluecoats.

They don't hold no grudge against scouts.

As long as you scout against their enemies:

the Apache, the Cheyenne.

But you led the cavalry against your own tribe.

That wasn't too smart.

I ain't worried.

You're the one ought to be.

Maybe.

You hate me, don't you, marshal?

No, I don't hate you, Amos.

I'm just trying to understand you, that's all.

Must be a hard choice...

turn against your own kind.

I'd like to know what makes a man do that.

If you knew the way it was...

It was never so good for me before or since.

I can remember the day. It was like this. It was dusk.

I left the horses, three of my best,

in front of her father's lodge.

I never waited so anxious in my life.

Then he came out and tied 'em,

and drove 'em into his herd.

Yeah, that, uh...

That means that you were accepted, married, doesn't it?

Mm-hm.

We lived fine.

I had a lodge of 14 skins.

I brought meat and plenty to the family.

I counted coal.

I was respected...loved.

Oh, why'd you leave then?

She died.

In childbirth.

Amos...

at Cold Creek...

did you lead that cavalry into ambush?

I rid with the cavalry a lot of years.

Them boys were my friends.

Sergeant McElroy and the rest.

So you didn't lead 'em.

But you knew that ambush was there, didn't you?

And you didn't warn 'em.

I couldn't!

Don't you see?

It would have been the other way around.

It would have been the Comanches that was massacred.

They were my friends, relatives, people I've lived with.

Whatever I did, it would have been wrong.

So you ran away and did nothing, huh?

Well, a man has to make a choice, Amos.

By failing to act, you made yours all the same.

Coming back to Dodge was a mistake though.

If you'd stayed out, you might have been taken for dead

and forgotten.

But you've gone too far this time...

killing Bailey the way you did.

There's nothing left for you but Dodge and the noose.

You ain't got me back to Dodge yet, marshal.

Maybe you ain't going to.

All right, get down over there.

Let's get outside, Chester.

Kind of looks like a war party.

Big one.

Maybe they'll pass on by us.

Uh-uh.

Guess again, Chester.

Yeah. It's us, I guess.

They're Comanches, aren't they, Amos?

Yep.

They're Comanches, all right.

Friends of mine.

So I won't be going back to Dodge with you.

I guess you lose, marshal.

Hm.

Maybe we all lose, Amos.

Why don't they do something?

Just sitting there.

It's a trick, Chester.

They're trying to spook us.

They'd like us to come out there in the open.

Well, I can't see what difference it'd make.

If they was to rush us here,

we wouldn't stand a chance.

Well, we could kill our horses.

Pull them up in a circle and shoot 'em,

slit their throats.

What for? Stop a charge.

The Indian ponies smell blood, they balk.

Mr. Dillon, out here without horses?

Here, Amos. You better take this.

You recognize any of 'em?

That one.

That's my wife's brother, Buffalo Tongue.

Looks like he's fixing

to do something.

I'd better get to those horses.

Wait.

You might need them.

Pardon?

Maybe they don't even know you're here.

If you keep out of sight...

wait for dark, only an hour or so-

What are you trying to say, Amos?

I'm thinking about that noose back in Dodge, marshal.

What about the Comanches?

That's my wife's brother out there.

I've ridden with him on many a party.

He's coming down alone.

Where you going?

It's me they're looking for, marshal.

They don't even know you're here.

Oh, no, no, Amos.

Three men can't stand against that many Comanches.

It's like you said, marshal.

A man makes his choice.

All right, Amos.

You've made yours.

Mr. Dillon, he's our prisoner.

No.

No, he's nobody's prisoner now, Chester.

Give me a knife, Chester.

No.

Don't, marshal.

Not yet.

It's gotta come out, Amos.

Wait.

In a minute, won't matter.

Marshal...

he didn't even bother to count coal.

That arrow went clean through.

They didn't even seem to notice us.

Yeah, that wasn't a battle, Chester.

It was an execution.

Mr. Dillon, why didn't they bother to take his scalp?

Worst possible insult.

When an Indian won't even touch the body.

You think that Amos might have known

what would happen?

I think so.

Well, then I guess he saved our lives.

Yeah.

Well, I...

I guess that was better than the noose.

Maybe so, Chester.

Maybe so.