All language subtitles for True Grit 2010.816p.BluRay.5.1.x264 . NVEE_English

____________ . NVEE ____________

People do not give it credence
that a young girl could leave home

and go off in the wintertime
to avenge her father's blood.

But it did happen.

I was just 14 years of age when
a coward by the name of Tom Chaney

shot my father down

and robbed him of his life and his horse

and two California gold pieces
that he carried in his trouser band.

Chaney was a hired man

and Papa had taken him up to Fort Smith

to help lead back a string
of Mustang ponies he'd bought.

In town, Chaney had
fallen to drink and cards

and lost all his money.

He got it into his head
he was being cheated

and went back to the boarding
house for his Henry rifle.

When Papa tried to
intervene, Chaney shot him.

Chaney fled.

He could have walked his horse,

for not a soul in that city
could be bothered to give chase.

No doubt Chaney fancied
himself scot-free.

But he was wrong.

You must pay for everything in
this world, one way and another.

There is nothing free,
except the grace of God.

All right!

Is that the man?

That is my father.

If you would like to kiss
him, it would be all right.

He's gone home. Praise the Lord.

Why is it so much?

The quality of the cask
et and of the embalming.

The lifelike appearance
requires time and art.

And the chemicals come dear.
The particulars are in your bill.

If you'd like to kiss
him, it would be all right.

Thank you. The spirit has flown.

Your wire said $50.

You did not specify that
he was to be shipped.

Well, $60 is every cent we have.
It leaves nothing for our board.

Yarnell, you can see to the body's
transport to the train station

and accompany it home. I will
have to sleep here tonight.

I still have to collect father's
things and see to some other business.

Your mama didn't say nothing about
you seeing to no business here.

It is business Mama doesn't know about.
It's all right, Yarnell. I dismiss you.

- I'm not sure...
- Tell Mama not to sign anything

until I return home and see that
Papa is buried in his Mason's apron.

Your terms are agreeable if
I may pass the night here.

Here? Among these people?

These people?

I'm expecting three more souls.

Sullivan, Smith,

and H is Tongue In The Rain.

Ladies and gentlemen, beware
and train up your children

in the way that they should go.

You see what has become
of me because of drink.

I killed a man in a trifling
quarrel over a pocket-knife.

If I had have received good
instruction as a child...

- Can you point out the sheriff?
- Him with the mustaches.

...I would be with my
wife and children today.

I do not know what is to become of them.

But I hope and pray that
you will not slight them

and compel them to go into low company.

Stop whimpering, boy!

Well, I killed the wrong man
is the which-of-why I'm here.

Had I killed the man I meant to, I
don't believe I'd have been convicted.

I see men out there in
that crowd is worse than me.

Okay.

Before I am hanged,
I would like to say...

No, we ain't arrested him.

Ain't caught up to him. He
lit out for the Territory.

I would think that he's throwed
in with Lucky Ned Pepper,

whose gang robbed a mail hack
yesterday on the Poteau River.

Why are you not looking for him?

I have no authority
in the Indian Nation.

Tom Chaney is the business
of the U.S. Marshals now.

- When will they arrest him?
- Not soon, I'm afraid.

The marshals are not well
staffed, and I'll tell you frankly,

Chaney is at the end of a long
list of fugitives and malefactors.

Could I hire a marshal
to pursue Tom Chaney?

You have a lot of experience
with bounty hunters, do you?

That is a silly question. I am
here to settle my father's affairs.

- All alone?
- I am the person for it.

Mama was never any good at sums
and she could hardly spell "cat".

I intend to see Papa's killer hanged.

Well, nothing prevents you from offering
a reward and so informing the marshals.

It would have to be real
money, though, to be persuasive.

Chaney is across the river
in the Choctaw Nation.

I will see to the money.
Who's the best marshal?

I would have to weigh that.

William Waters is the best tracker.

He's half Comanche and it is
something to see him cut for sign.

The meanest is Rooster Cogburn.

He is a pitiless man, double tough,
and fear don't enter into his thinking.

He loves to pull a cork.

The best is probably L.T. Quinn.

He brings his prisoners in alive.

He may let one slip by now and again

but he believes that even the worst
of men is entitled to a fair shake.

Where can I find this Rooster?

The jakes is occupied.

I know it is occupied, Mr. Cogburn.
As I said, I have business with you.

I have prior business.

You have been at it for
quite some time, Mr. Cogburn.

There is no clock on my business!

To hell with you! How
did you stalk me here?

The sheriff told me
to look in the saloon.

In the saloon, they referred
me here. We must talk.

Women ain't allowed in the saloon.

I was not there as a
customer. I am 14 years old.

Well, the jakes is occupied.

Will be for some time.

Good evening.

If you would like to sleep in
a coffin, it would be all right.

How much are you paying for cotton?

Nine and a half for low
middling and ten for ordinary.

We got most of ours out early.

Sold it to the Woodson Brothers
in Little Rock for 11 cents.

Then I suggest you take the balance
of it to the Woodson Brothers.

We took the balance to Woodson.

We got ten and a half.

Why did you come here to tell me this?

I thought we might shop
around up here next year,

but I guess we're doing
all right in Little Rock.

I'm Mattie Ross.

Daughter of Frank Ross.

A tragic thing.

May I say your father impressed
me with his manly qualities.

He was a close trader but
he acted the gentleman.

Well, I propose to sell those ponies
back to you that my father bought.

That, I fear, is out of the question.

I will see that they're shipped
to you at my earliest convenience.

We don't want the ponies
now. We don't need 'em.

Well, that hardly concerns me.

Your father bought the
ponies and paid for them

and there is an end of it.
I have the bill of sale.

And I want $300 for Papa's saddle
horse that was stolen from your stable.

You'll have to take that up
with the man who stole the horse.

Tom Chaney stole the horse while it
was in your care. You are responsible.

I admire your sand

but I believe you will find
I'm not liable for such claims.

You were the custodian. If you
were a bank and were robbed,

you could not simply tell
the depositors to go hang.

I do not entertain hypotheticals.
The world as it is is vexing enough.

Secondly, your valuation of the horse
is high by about $200. How old are you?

If anything, my price is low.

Judy is a fine racing mare.

I've seen her jump an eight-rail
fence with a heavy rider. I'm 14.

Well, that's all very interesting.

The ponies are yours. Take them.

Your father's horse was
stolen by a murderous criminal.

I had provided reasonable
protection for the creature

as per our implicit agreement.

My watchman had his teeth knocked
out and can take only soup.

- I will take it to law.
- You have no case.

Lawyer J. Noble Daggett of Dardanelle,
Arkansas may think otherwise,

as might a jury, petitioned by
a widow and three small children.

I will pay $200 to your father's estate

when I have in my hand
a letter from your lawyer

absolving me of all liability from
the beginning of the world to date...

I will take $200 for Judy,

plus $ 100 for the ponies and $25 for
the gray horse that Tom Chaney left.

He was easily worth $40.

That is $325 total.

The ponies have no part
in it. I will not buy them.

Then the price for Judy is $325.

I would not pay $325
for a winged Pegasus!

As for the gray horse,
it does not belong to you.

The gray horse was lent
to Tom Chaney by my father.

Chaney only had the use of him.

I will pay $225 and keep the gray horse.

- I don't want the ponies.
- I cannot accept that.

There will be no settlement after I
leave this office. It will go to law.

All right, this is my last offer.

$250.

For that I get the release
previously discussed

and I keep your father's saddle.

The gray horse is not yours to sell.

The saddle is not for
sale. I will keep it.

Lawyer Daggett will prove
ownership of the gray horse.

He will come after you
with a writ of replevin.

- A what?
- A writ of replevin.

All right, now listen very carefully,
as I will not bargain further.

I will take the ponies back, and
the gray horse, which is mine,

and settle for $300.

Now, you must take that or leave it
and I do not much care which it is.

Lawyer Daggett would not wish me
to consider anything under $325.

But I will settle for $320 if
I am given the $20 in advance.

Now, here is what I have
to say about that saddle.

Frank Ross's daughter.

Oh, my poor child.

My poor child.

Are you gonna be stayin' with us or
are you hurrying back home to your mama?

I'll stay here if you can have me.

I just spent last night at the undertaker's
in the company of three corpses.

I felt like Ezekiel in the
Valley of the Dry Bones.

Well, God bless you.

You'll be rooming with Grandma Turner.

We've had to double up,

what with all the people in
town come to see the hanging.

This was in your poor father's room.

That is everything. There are
no light fingers in this house.

If you need something for
to tote the gun around,

I can give you an empty
flour sack for a nickel.

...I could get him to talk sense
about what he found up there.

And we were close enough that
Deputy Marshal Potter and me

thought we'd better ride over
ourselves and investigate.

What did you see when you arrived?

Old woman was out in the yard, dead,

with blowflies on her face.

The old man was inside with his
breast blown open by a scattergun

and his feet burned.

He was still alive but just was.

Said it was them two Wharton
boys done it. Rode up drunk...

- Objection. Hearsay.
- Dying declaration, Your Honor.

Objection's overruled.
Proceed, Mr. Cogburn.

Them two Wharton boys,
that'd be Odus and C C,

throwed down on him and
asked him where his money was.

When he wouldn't tell 'em, they lit
pine knots, held them to his feet.

He told them the money
was in a fruit jar,

under a gray rock at the
corner of the smokehouse.

- And then?
- Well, he died on us.

- Passed away in considerable pain.
- What did you do then?

Me and Marshal Potter
went out to the smokehouse.

And that rock had been moved and the
jar with the money in it was gone.

- Objection. Speculative.
- Sustained.

You found a flat gray rock in
the corner of the smokehouse

with a hollowed-out space beneath it...

If the prosecutor's going to give
evidence, I suggest he be sworn.

Mr. Cogburn, what did
you find, if anything,

in the corner of that smokehouse?

Found a flat gray rock

with a hollowed-out space
under it and nothing there.

- Then what did you...
- No jar or nothing.

- What did you do then?
- Well, rode up to the Whartons'

near where the North
Fork strikes the Canadian.

- What did you find?
- Branch of the Canadian.

I had my glass.

We spotted them two boys
and their old daddy, Aaron,

down the creek bank with some hogs.

They'd killed a shoat, had a fire built
under a wash pot for scalding water.

- What did you do?
- Announced we was U.S. Marshals.

I hollered out to Aaron that we
needed to talk to his two boys.

He raised an axe and commenced to
cussing us and blackguarding this court.

What did you do then?

Backed away from the axe and
tried to talk some sense into him.

While this was going on, CC, he
edges over to the wash pot there,

behind the steam, and
picks up a shotgun.

Potter seen him, but it was too late.

CC Wharton pulled down
on Potter with one barrel

and turned to do the same
for me and I shot him.

The old man raised
the axe and I shot him.

Odus lit out and I shot him.

CC Wharton and Aaron Wharton were
dead when they hit the ground.

Odus was just winged.

Did you find the jar
with the $ 120 in it?

- Leading.
- Sustained.

- What happened then?
- I found the jar with $ 120 in it.

What became of Odus Wharton?

There he sits.

You may ask, Mr. Goudy.

Thank you, Mr. Barlow.

Mr. Cogburn,

in your four years as U.S.
Marshal, how many men have you shot?

I never shot nobody I didn't have to.

Well, that was not the question.

How many?

Shot or killed?

Let us restrict it to "killed" so
that we may have a manageable figure.

About 12, 15.

Stopping men in flight,
defending myself, et cetera.

Around 12, he says, or 15.

So many you cannot keep a precise count.

I have examined the records and
can supply the accurate figure.

I believe them two
Wharton boys makes it 23.

And how many members of this one family,

the Wharton family, have you killed?

Immediate or...

Did you also shoot Dub Wharton, brother,

and Clete Wharton, half-brother?

Clete was selling ardent spirits to the
Cherokee. Come at me with a kingbolt.

A kingbolt?

You were armed and he advanced upon
you with nothing more than a kingbolt?

From a wagon tongue?

I've seen men badly tore up with
nothing bigger than a kingbolt.

- I defended myself.
- Returning to the other encounter,

with Aaron Wharton and
his two remaining sons.

You sprang from cover
with your revolver in hand.

- I did.
- Loaded and cocked?

If it ain't loaded and
cocked, it don't shoot.

And like his son, Aaron Wharton
advanced against an armed man?

He was armed, he had an axe raised!

I believe you testified you
backed away from Aaron Wharton?

- That's right.
- Which direction were you going?

I always go backwards
when I'm backing up.

Very amusing.

Now, he advanced upon you much
in the manner of Clete Wharton,

menacing you with that
little old kingbolt

or rolled-up newspaper,
or whatever it was.

Yes, sir. He commenced to cussing
and laying about with threats.

And you were backing away?

How many steps before
the shooting started?

Seven, eight steps.

So, Aaron Wharton, keeping pace,
advancing away from his campfire,

seven, eight steps.

What would that be, 15, 20 feet?

I suppose.

Will you explain to
this jury, Mr. Cogburn,

why Mr. Wharton was found
immediately by his wash pot,

one arm in the fire, his
sleeve and hand smoldering?

Did you move the body
after you shot him?

Why would I do that?

You did not drag the body over
to the fire, fling his arm in?

No, sir.

Two witnesses who arrived on the scene

will testify to the
location of the body.

You do not remember moving the body!

So it was a cold-blooded bushwhack,

while poor Mr. Wharton was
tending to his campfire.

Objection!

If that's where the body was, I might
have moved him. I do not remember.

Why would you move
the body, Mr. Cogburn?

Them hogs rooting around,
they might have moved him.

I do not remember.

Pencil-neck son of a bitch.

Rooster Cogburn?

- What is it?
- I'd like to talk to you a minute.

What is it?

They tell me you're
a man with true grit.

What do you want, girl?
Speak up, it's suppertime.

Let me do that.

Your makings are too dry.

I'm looking for the man who shot
and killed my father, Frank Ross,

in front of the Monarch Boarding House.

The man's name is Tom Chaney.

They say he's over in Indian Territory
and I need somebody to go after him.

What's your name, girl?

My name is Mattie Ross.
We're located in Yell County.

My mother is at home looking
after my sister Victoria

and my brother Little Frank.

Best go home to them. They will
need help with the churning.

There is a fugitive
warrant out for Chaney.

The government will pay
you $2 for bringing him in

plus 10 cents a mile for each of you.

On top of that, I will
pay you a $50 reward.

What are you?

What've you got there in your poke?

My God, a Colt's Dragoon.

You're no bigger than a corn nubbin.

What're you doing with
a pistol like that?

- I intend to kill Tom Chaney with it.
- Kill Tom Chaney?

If the law fails to do so.

That piece will do the job for you,
if you find a high stump to rest it on

and a wall to put behind you.

Nobody here knew my father

and I'm afraid nothing is going to
be done about Chaney except I do it.

My brother is a child and my mother
is indecisive and hobbled by grief.

I don't believe you have $50.

I have a contract with Colonel
Stonehill which he will make payment on

tomorrow or the next day
once a lawyer countersigns.

I don't believe in fairy tales or sermons
or stories about money, baby sister.

But thanks for the cigarette.

Isn't your mama
expecting you home, dear?

My business is not yet finished.

Mrs. Floyd, have any rooms opened up?

Grandma Turner is...
The bed is quite narrow.

The second-floor back did open up

but that gentleman on the
porch has just taken it.

But don't worry yourself, dear.

You're not disturbing Grandma Turner.

My name is LaBoeuf.

I've just come from Yell County.

We have no rodeo clowns in Yell County.

A saucy line will not
get you far with me.

I saw your mother yesterday morning.

She said for you to come right on home.

What was your business there?

This is a man I think you know.

You called him Tom Chaney, I believe.

Though, in the months I've been
tracking him, he has used the names

Theron Chelmsford, John
Todd Andersen, and others.

He dallied in Monroe, Louisiana,
and Pine Bluff, Arkansas,

before turning up at
your father's place.

Why did you not catch him in Pine
Bluff, Arkansas, or Monroe, Louisiana?

He is a crafty one.

I thought him slow-witted, myself.

That was his act.

It was a good one. Are
you some kind of law?

That's right.

I'm a Texas Ranger.

That may make you a
big noise in that state.

In Arkansas, you should mind that
your Texas trappings and title

do not make you an object of fun.

Why have you been
ineffectually pursuing Chaney?

He shot and killed a state
senator named Bibbs in Waco, Texas.

The Bibbs family put out a reward.

How came Chaney to
shoot a state senator?

My understanding is there
was an argument about a dog.

Do you know anything about
the whereabouts of Chaney?

He is in the Territory, and I hold out
little hope for you earning your bounty.

- Why is that?
- My man will beat you to it.

I have hired a deputy marshal,
the toughest one they have.

And he's familiar with
the Lucky Ned Pepper gang

they say Chaney's tied up with.

Well, I will throw in
with you and your marshal.

No.

- Marshal Cogburn and I are fine.
- It'll be to our mutual advantage.

Your marshal, I presume, knows
the Territory. I know Chaney.

It is at least a two-man
job taking him alive.

When Chaney is taken, he's
coming back to Fort Smith to hang.

I'm not having him go to Texas
to hang for shooting some senator.

It is not important
where he hangs, is it?

It is to me. Is it to you?

It means a great deal of money to
me. It's been many months' work.

I'm sorry that you are paid
piecework and not on wages,

and that you have been eluded
the winter long by a halfwit.

You give out very little
sugar with your pronouncements.

While I sat there watching you, I
gave some thought to stealing a kiss,

though you are very young and
sick and unattractive to boot.

But now I have a mind to give you
five or six good licks with my belt.

One would be as unpleasant as the other.

If you wet your comb, it
might tame that cowlick.

Mattie, I wish you would leave
these matters entirely to me,

or at the very least, do me
the courtesy of consulting me

before entering such agreements.

I am not scolding you

but I am saying your headstrong ways
will lead you into a tight corner one day.

I trust the enclosed document
will let you conclude your business

and return to Yell County.

Yours, J. Noble Daggett.

I was as bad yesterday
as you look today.

I was forced to share a
bed with Grandma Turner.

I am not acquainted with Grandma Turner.

If she is a resident of this city,

it does not surprise me
that she carries disease.

This malarial place
has ruined my health,

as it has my finances.

I owe you money.

You have not traded poorly.

Certainly not!

I am paying you for a
horse I do not possess

and have bought back a
string of useless ponies

which I cannot sell again.

- You're forgetting the gray horse.
- Crow bait!

You are looking at the
thing in the wrong light.

I am looking at it in the
light of God's eternal truth.

Your illness is putting
you down in the dumps.

You will soon find a
good buyer for the ponies.

I have a tentative
offer of $ 10 per head

from the Pfitzer Soap
Works of Little Rock.

It would be a shame to destroy
such spirited horseflesh.

So it would. I am confident
the deal will fall through.

Look here. I need a pony. And
I will pay $ 10 for one of them.

No, that's the lot price.
No, no... Wait a minute.

Are we trading again?

This one's beautiful.

He don't know he got
a rider. You too light.

Easy, boy.

He think he got a horsefly on him.

He's very spirited. I'll
call him Little Blackie.

That's a good name.

What does he like for a treat?

Well, ma'am, he's a horse.

So he likes apples.

- Thank Mr. Stonehill for me.
- No, ma'am.

I ain't supposed to utter your name!

See? Sleep.

That is fine. I will wake him.

Marshal Cogburn?

It is I, Mattie Ross, your employer.

- How long till you are ready to go?
- Go where?

Into the Indian Territory,
in pursuit of Tom Chaney.

You're the bereaved girl
with stories of El Dorado.

How much money you got there?

I said $50 to retrieve
Chaney. You did not believe me?

I did not know.

You are a hard one to figure.

How long for you to
make ready to depart?

Well, hold on, sis.

I remember your offer but I
do not remember agreeing to it.

If I'm to go up against Ned Pepper,

I will need $ 100. That
much I can tell you. $ 100.

To retrieve your man, $ 100.

I will take that $50 in advance.

There will be expenses.

You are trying to take advantage of me.

I'm giving you the children's rate.

I'm not a sharper.

I'm an old man sleeping in a rope bed
in a room behind a Chinese grocery.

- I have nothing.
- You want to be kept in whiskey.

I don't need to buy
that. I confiscate it.

I'm an officer of the court.

Thank you.

$ 100, that's the rate.

I shall not niggle. Can
we depart this afternoon?

We?

You are not going.
That is no part of it.

You have misjudged me if you think
I am silly enough to give you $50

and watch you simply ride off.

I'm a bonded U.S. Marshal.

That weighs but little with
me. I will see the thing done.

Goddamn ducks.

I can't go after Ned Pepper
and a band of hard men

- and look after a baby at the same time.
- I am not a baby.

I won't be stopping at boarding houses

where there's warm beds
and hot grub on the table.

I'll be traveling fast and eating light.

What little sleeping is done
will take place on the ground.

I have slept out at night before.

Papa took me and Little Frank coon
hunting last summer on the Petit Jean.

We were in the woods all night.

We sat around a big fire and
Yarnell told ghost stories.

We had a good time.

Coon hunting?

This ain't no coon hunt.

It is the same idea as a coon hunt.

It don't come within 40
miles of being a coon hunt.

You're just tryin' to make your
work sound harder than it is.

Here is the money.

I aim to get Tom Chaney

and if you are not game I
will find somebody who is game.

All I've heard out
of you so far is talk.

I know you can drink whiskey and snore

and spit and wallow in filth
and bemoan your station.

The rest has been braggadocio.

They told me you had grit
and that is why I came to you.

I'm not paying for talk.

I can get all the talk I need and
more at the Monarch Boarding House.

Leave your money.

Meet me here at 7: 00 tomorrow morning.

We'll begin our coon hunt.

Dearest Mother,

I'm about to embark
on a great adventure.

I have learned that Tom
Chaney has fled into the wild

and I shall assist the
authorities in pursuit.

You know that Papa would want
me to be firm in the right,

as he always was.

So do not fear on my account.

Though I walk through the
valley of the shadow of death,

I shall fear no evil.

The author of all things watches
over me and I have a fine horse.

Kiss Little Frankie for me
and pinch Violet's cheek.

Papa's death will soon be avenged.

I am off for the Choctaw Nation.

Where is Marshal Cogburn?

Went away. Left this.

Here inside is a train ticket
for your return home. Use it.

By the time you read this, I will be
across the river in the Indian Nation.

Pursuit would be futile. I will
return with your man Chaney.

Leave me to my work. Reuben Cogburn.

Is that Marshal Cogburn?

- That is the man.
- Who's he with?

I do not know.

Take me across.

So, you're the runaway.

Marshal told me you'd show up.
I'm to present you to the sheriff.

That is a story. Let go of my horse.
I have business across the river.

If you don't turn around
and take me across,

you may find yourself in court
where you don't want to be.

I have a good lawyer.

Hey!

Go, Little Blackie! Come on!

That is quite a horse.

I will give you $ 10 for him.

From the money you stole from me?

That was not stolen.
I'm out for your man.

I was to accompany you.

If I do not, there is no
agreement and my money was stolen.

Marshal, put this
child back on the ferry.

It's a long road,
and time is a-wasting.

If I go back, it is to the U.S. Marshals
Office to report the theft of my money.

And futile, Marshal Cogburn,
"Pursuit would be futile,"

is not spelt
F-U-D-E-L.

It is time for your spanking.

Now you will do as the grown-ups say

or I will get myself a birch
switch and stripe your leg!

Are you going to let
him do this, Marshal?

No, I don't believe I will.

- Put your switch away, LaBoeuf.
- I aim to finish what I started.

That will be the biggest mistake you
ever made, you Texas brush-popper.

Hoorawed by a little girl.

I am not accustomed to so large a fire.

In Texas, we will make do with
a fire of little more than twigs

or buffalo chips, to heat
the night's ration of beans.

And it is Ranger policy

never to make your camp in the
same place as your cookfire.

Very imprudent to make your
presence known in unsettled country.

How do you know Bagby
will have intelligence?

He has a store.

That makes him an authority
on movements in the Territory?

We have entered a wild place.

And anyone coming in,
wanting any kind of supply,

cannot pick and choose his portal.

That is a piece of foolishness.

All the snakes are
asleep this time of year.

- They have been known to wake up.
- Let me have a rope, too.

A snake would not bother you.
You are too little and bony.

You should fetch water for the
morning and put it by the fire.

- The creek's gonna ice over tonight.
- I'm not going down there again.

If you want any more water,
you could fetch it yourself.

You're lucky to be traveling in a
place where a spring is so handy.

In my country, you can ride
for days and see no groundwater.

I have lapped filthy
water from a hoofprint

and was glad to have it.

If I ever meet one of you Texas waddies

who says he has never drank
water out of a horse track,

I think I'll shake his hand and
give him a Daniel Webster cigar.

You do not believe it?

I believed it the first
25 times I heard it.

Maybe... Maybe it is true.

Maybe lapping water off
the ground is Ranger policy.

You are getting ready to show
your ignorance now, Cogburn.

I don't mind a little personal chaffing

but I won't hear anything against
the Ranger troop from a man like you.

How long you boys been
mounted on sheep down there?

My white Appaloosa
will still be galloping

when that big American stud of
yours is winded and collapsed.

Now make another joke about it.

You're only trying to put on
a show for this girl Mattie

with what you must
think is a keen tongue.

This is like women talking.

Yes, that is the way.

Make me out foolish in this girl's eyes.

I think she has you pretty well figured.

Would you two like to hear the
story of The Midnight Caller?

One of you is gonna
have to be The Caller.

And I will tell you what to say.

And I will do all the
other parts myself.

- Good morning, Marshal.
- Morning.

Where is Mr. LaBoeuf?

Down by the creek,
performing his necessaries.

Marshal Cogburn, I welcome the
chance for a private parley.

I gather that you and Mr. LaBoeuf
have come to some sort of agreement.

And as your employer, I believe I
have the right to know the particulars.

The particulars is that we bring Chaney

down to the magistrate
in San Saba, Texas,

where they have a considerable
reward on offer, which we split.

I did not want him brought to Texas,

to have a Texas punishment
administered for a Texas crime.

That was not our agreement.

What you want is to have
him caught and punished.

I want him to know that he is being
punished for killing my father.

You can let him know that.
You can tell him to his face.

You can spit on him and make
him eat sand out of the road.

I will hold him down.

If you want, I'll flay the
flesh off the soles of his feet

and find you an Indian pepper
you can rub into the wound.

Isn't that a $ 100 value?

No, it is not.

When I have bought and paid for
something, I will have my way.

Why do you think I'm paying
you if not to have my way?

It's time for you to learn you cannot
have your way in every little particular.

If you find I fail
to satisfy your terms,

I will return your money at
the end of this expedition.

Little Blackie and I are riding
back to the U.S. Marshals Office.

- This is fraud.
- God damn it!

- What's going on?
- This is a business conversation.

Is that what you call it?

It sounds to me like you're still
being hoorawed by a little girl.

- Did you say hoorawed?
- That was the word.

There is no hoorawing in it.

My agreement with the
marshal antedates yours.

- It has the force of law.
- The force of law?

This man is a notorious thumper.

He rode by the light of the moon with
Quantrill and Bloody Bill Anderson.

Them men was patriots, Texas trash!

They murdered women and
children in Lawrence, Kansas.

That's a goddamn lie!

What army was you in, mister?

I was at Shreveport,
first with Kirby Smith...

Yeah? What side was you on?

I was in the army of
Northern Virginia, Cogburn,

and I don't have to hang
my head when I say it.

If you had served with
Captain Quantrill...

Captain?

Captain Quantrill indeed!

- Best let this go, LaBoeuf.
- Captain of what?

Good, then. There's not sufficient
dollars in the state of Texas

to make it worth my while
and listen to your opinions.

- Our agreement is nullified.
- That suits me.

- It's each man for himself.
- Congratulations, Cogburn.

You've graduated from
marauder to wet nurse.

We don't need him, do we, Marshal?

We'll miss his Sharps carbine.

It's apt to get lively out here.

Hey!

Go!

Stay here, sister.

I will see Bagby.

Has Chaney been here?

No. Coke Hayes was, two days ago.

Coke runs with Lucky Ned.
He bought supplies with this.

This is Papa's gold piece.

Tom Chaney, here we come.

It's not the world's only
California gold piece.

- They are rare here.
- They are rare.

But if it is Chaney's,

it could just as easily mean that
Lucky Ned and his gang fell upon him,

as that he fell in with them.

Chaney could be a corpse.

That would be a bitter
disappointment, Marshal. What do we do?

Pursue.

Ned is unfinished business
for the marshals, anyhow,

and when we have him
we'll also have Chaney

or learn the whereabouts of his body.

Bagby didn't know which way they went,

but now that we know
they come through here,

they couldn't be going
but one of two ways,

heading north towards the
Winding Stair Mountains,

or pushing further west.

I suspect north. More to rob.

I bought an eating place
called The Green Frog,

started calling myself Burroughs.

But my drinking picked up

and my wife did not care for
the company of my river friends.

She decided to go back
to her first husband.

He was a clerk in a hardware store.

She said, "Goodbye, Reuben.

"A love of decency
does not abide in you."

There's your divorced
woman talking about decency.

I told her, "Goodbye, Nola.

"I hope that little nail-selling
bastard keeps you happy this time."

She took my boy with her, too.

He never cared for me anyway.

I guess I did speak awful rough to him.

I did not mean anything by it.

You would not want to see a
clumsier child than Horace.

I'll bet he broke 40 cups.

Is it Chaney?

I would not recognize
the soles of his feet.

Well, you'll have to
clamber up and look.

I'm too old and too fat.

The Green Frog had one billiard table,

served ladies and men both, mostly men.

I tried running it myself for a
while but couldn't keep good help.

And I never did learn how to buy meat.

Is that him?

I believe not.

Well, cut him down.

- Why?
- I might know him.

That was when I went out to
the Staked Plains of Texas,

shooting buffalo with Vernon Shaftoe
and a Flathead Indian named Olly.

The Mormons had run Shaftoe
out of Great Salt Lake City.

Don't ask me what for.

Call it a misunderstanding
and leave it go at that.

Well, the big shaggies
is about all gone now.

Damned shame.

I'd give $3 right now for
a pickled buffalo tongue.

Why did they hang him so high?

I do not know.

Possibly in the belief
it'd make him more dead.

I do not know this man.

Why is he taking the
hanged man? Did he know him?

He did not.

But it is a dead body.

Possibly worth something in trade.

Well, my second wife, Edna,

she got the notion she
wanted me to be a lawyer.

Bought this heavy book called
Daniels on Negotiable Instruments

and set me to reading it.

Never could get a grip on it.

I was happy enough to set
it aside and leave Texas.

There ain't six trees
between there and Canada,

and nothing else grows
but has stickers on it.

That's...

I knew it.

- Knew what?
- We're being followed.

I asked that Indian to signal with
a shot if someone was on our trail.

Should we be concerned, Marshal?

No. It's Mr. LaBoeuf,
using us as bird dogs

in hopes of cutting in
once we've flushed the prey.

Well, perhaps we could
double back over our tracks,

and confuse the trail in a clever way.

No, we will wait right here,

offer our friend a warm hello,
and ask him where he is going.

You are not LaBoeuf.

My name is Forster.

I practice dentistry in the Nation.

Also, veterinary arts and medicine

on those humans that
will sit still for it.

You have your work
cut out for you there.

Traded for him with an Indian,
who said he came by him honestly.

I gave up two dental mirrors
and a bottle of expectorant.

Do either of you need medical attention?

No.

It's fixing to get cold.

Do you know of anywhere to take shelter?

I have my bearskin.

You might want to head over
to the Original Greaser Bob's.

He notched a dugout into a
hollow along the Carrillon River.

If you ride the river,
you won't fail to see it.

Greaser Bob, the Original Greaser Bob,

is hunting north of the Picketwire

and would not begrudge its use.

- Much obliged.
- I have taken his teeth.

I will entertain an
offer for the rest of him.

Take my jack et.

Creep up onto the roof.

If they're unfriendly, I'll give
you a sign to damp the chimney.

Who is out there?

We're looking for shelter.

No room for you here. Ride on.

- Who all's in there?
- Ride on.

I'm a Federal officer! Who's in there?

A Methodist and a son of a bitch!

This is Rooster Cogburn.

Columbus Potter and five other
marshals is out here with me.

We've got a buck et of coal oil.

In one minute, we will
burn you out from both ends.

There's only two of you.

Go ahead and bet your life on it.

How many of you's in there?

Just the two of us, but my
partner's hit and he can't walk.

Is that Emmett Quincy?

You said it was a man on the
roof. I thought it was Potter.

You was always dumb, Quincy,
and remain true to form.

This here's an awful lot of sofky.

You boys looking for company?

That is our supper and breakfast
both. I like a big breakfast.

Sofky always cooks up
bigger than you think.

And a good store of
whiskey here as well.

What are you boys up to,
outside of cooking banquets?

We was just having our supper.

We didn't know who was
outside, weather like this.

It might have been some crazy man.
Anyone could say he is a marshal.

My leg hurts.

I'll bet it does.

When was the last time you
seen your old pard Ned Pepper?

I do not know him. Who is he?

I'm surprised you don't remember him.

He's a skinny fellow, nervous and
quick. His lip's all messed up.

That don't bring anybody to mind.

There is a new boy that
might be running with Ned.

He's got a powder mark on
his face, a black place.

He calls himself Chaney.
Or Chelmsford sometimes.

Carries a Henry rifle.

That don't bring anybody to mind.

Black mark, I would remember that.

You don't remember nothing I
want to know, do you, Quincy?

What do you know, Moon?

We don't know those
boys you're looking for.

I don't know those boys.

I always try to help out the law.

By the time we get to Fort Smith,

that leg will be swelled
up tight as Dick's hatband.

It will be mortified
and they will cut it off.

And then if you live, that'll
get you two or three years

in the Federal house
up in Detroit, there.

You're trying to get at me.

They'll teach you how to
read and write up there

but the rest won't be so good.

Them boys, they can be hard on a gimp.

You are trying to get at me.

Now, you give me some
good information on Ned,

I'll take you down to
Bagby's store tomorrow

and get that ball taken out of your leg.

Then I'll give you three
days to clear the Territory.

We don't know those
boys you're looking for.

It ain't his leg.

- I was...
- Don't go flapping your mouth, Moon.

- It's best you'd let me do the talking.
- I was saying...

We are weary trappers.

Who worked you over with the ugly stick?

The man Chaney with the
marked face killed my father.

He was a whiskey drinker like you
and it led to killing in the end.

If you answer the marshal's
questions, he will help you.

I have a good lawyer at home
and he will help you, too.

I am puzzled by this. Why is she here?

Don't you go jawing
with these people, Moon.

Don't you go jawing with that runt.

I don't like you. I hope you go to
jail. My lawyer will not help you.

My leg is giving me fits.

A young fellow like you
don't want to lose his leg.

- We seen...
- He's trying to get at you.

- With the truth.
- We seen Ned and Hayes two days ago.

Don't you act the fool! If
you blow, I will kill you!

I'm played out. I need a doctor!
We met Ned and Hayes two days ago.

God damn it!

Oh, Lord, I am dying.

Do something. Help me.

I can do nothing for you, son.

Your pard has killed you
and I have done for him.

Don't leave me lying here.

Don't let the wolves rip me up.

I'll see you're buried right.

Tell me about Ned.
Where did you see him?

Two days ago. Bagby's store.

They are coming here tonight
to get remounts, and sofky.

They just robbed the Katy
Flyer at Wagoner's Switch.

I'm gone.

Send the news to my
brother, George Garrett.

He is a Methodist circuit
rider in South Texas.

Shall I tell him you was outlawed up?

It don't matter. He
knows I'm on the scout.

I will meet him later,
walking the streets of glory.

Well, don't be looking for Quincy.

What do we do when they get here?

They ride up. What we want is
to get them all in the dugout.

I'll kill the last one that goes
in, then we'll have them in a barrel.

You will shoot him in the back?

It'll give them to know
our intentions are serious.

Then I'll call down, see
if they'll be taken alive.

If they won't, I'll shoot
them as they come out.

I'm hopeful that three
of their party being dead

will take the starch out of them.

You display great poise.

It's just a turkey shoot.

There was one time, in New Mexico,
we was being pursued by seven men.

I turned Bo around and
taking them reins in my teeth

rode right at them boys,

firing them two Navy
sixes I carry on my saddle.

Well, I guess they was all married
men who loved their families

as they scattered and run for home.

- Well, that is hard to believe.
- What is?

- One man riding at seven.
- It's true.

You go for a man hard
enough and fast enough,

he don't have time to think
about how many is with him.

He thinks about hisself,

how he might get clear of that wrath
that's about to set down on him.

Why were they pursuing you?

I robbed a high-interest bank.

You can't rob a thief, can you?

Never robbed a citizen.
Never took a man's watch.

It is all stealing.

That's the position
they took in New Mexico.

One man.

I did not figure them to send a scout.

Damn.

Hello?

It is LaBoeuf.

We have to warn him, Marshal.

Too late.

Texas Ranger.

What do we do, Marshal?

We sit. What does he do?

Him in the woolly chaps is Lucky Ned.

Well, that's that.

Well, that didn't pan out.

You managed to put a
kink in my rope, pardner.

- I'm severely injured.
- Yes, you got drug some.

Also shot by a rifle.

That's quite possible. The scheme
did not develop as I had planned.

You've been shot in the shoulder,
but the bullet passed through.

What happened to your mouth?

I believe I bit myself.

A couple of teeth loose and...

Oh, yeah, the tongue
is bit almost through.

Do you want to see if it will
knit or should I just yank it free?

I know a teamster who bit his tongue
off, being thrown from a horse.

After a time he learned to make
himself more or less understood.

I'll just yank it free.

What? What's that, now?

- Knit.
- What's that now?

Knit. It will knit.

Very well. It's impossible
to bind a tongue wound.

Too bad, we just run
across a doctor of sorts.

- Marshal?
- But I do not know

where he was headed.

I saw him, too. It's
how I came to be here.

Neither of these men are Chaney.

I know, and I know them both.

That ugly one is Coke Hayes. Him
uglier still is Clement Parmalee.

Parmalee and his brothers have a silver
claim in the Winding Stair Mountains

and I bet that's where
Lucky Ned's gang is waiting.

We'll sleep here, follow in the morning.

We promised to bury
the poor soul inside.

Ground is too hard.

If them men wanted a decent burial,

they should have got
themselves killed in summer.

Sleep well, Little Blackie.

I have a notion that tomorrow
we will reach our object.

We are hot on the trail.

It seems that we will overtake Tom
Chaney in the Winding Stair Mountains.

I would not want to be in his shoes.

As I understand it,
Chaney, or Chelmsford,

as he called himself in
Texas, shot the Senator's dog.

When the Senator remonstrated,
Chelmsford shot him as well.

Now, you could argue that
the shooting of the dog

was merely an instance
of malum prohibitum,

but the shooting of a senator is
indubitably an instance of malum in se.

Malla-men what?

Malum in se.

The distinction is between an
act that is wrong in itself,

and an act that is wrong only according
to our laws and mores. It is Latin.

I'm struck that LaBoeuf
has been shot, trampled,

and nearly severed his tongue

and not only does he not cease to talk,
but he spills the banks of English.

I was within 300 yards
of Chelmsford once.

The closest I have been.

With the Sharps carbine,
that is within range.

But I was mounted,

and had the choice of firing offhand,
or dismounting to shoot from rest,

which would allow Chelmsford
to augment the distance.

I fired mounted

and fired wide.

You could not hit a man at 300 yards
if your gun was resting on Gibraltar.

The Sharps carbine is an instrument
of uncanny power and precision.

I have no doubt that the gun is sound.

My clothes is all ragged

My language is rough

My bread is corn dodgers,
both solid and tough

And yet I am happy, and live at my ease

On sorghum molasses,
and bacon and cheese

Greer County Bachelor, that was.

I do not believe he slept.

Fort Smith is a healthy
distance, LaBoeuf,

but I would encourage the
creature you ride to head thither.

Out here, a one-armed
man looks like easy prey.

And a one-eyed man who can't shoot?
Why don't you turn back, Cogburn?

I'll do fine.

I know where the Parmalee claim is.

I am uninjured and well-provisioned
and we agreed to separate.

In conscience, you
cannot cite our agreement.

- You're the one who shot me.
- Mr. LaBoeuf has a point, Marshal.

It is an unfair leg-up in any
competition to shoot your opposite number.

God damn it! I do not accept it as
a given that I did shoot LaBoeuf.

There were plenty of guns going off.

I heard the rifle and I felt the ball.

You missed your shot, Cogburn, admit it.

Missed my shot?

You are more handicapped without
the eye than I without the arm.

I can hit a gnat's eye at 90 yards.

That Chinaman is running
them cheap shells on me again.

I thought you were gonna
say the sun was in your eyes.

That is to say, your eye.

Two at one time!

I will chuck one high. Hold fire.

- There.
- There?

- My bullet.
- Your bullet?

If you hit what you aim
at, explain my shoulder!

Gentlemen, shooting cornbread
out here on the prairie

is getting us no closer
to the Ned Pepper gang.

One more. This will prove it.

Please hold fire.

Find our way back!

Very few fiddle tunes I have not heard.

Once heard, they're locked
into my mind forever.

Lucky Ned?

Lucky Ned!

Very good, Cogburn. Now what?

Oh, God damn it.

Cogburn does not want me
eating out of his store.

That is silly. You have not eaten
all day, and it is my store, not his.

Let him starve!

He does not track! He does not
shoot, except at foodstuffs!

- That was your initiative.
- He does not contribute.

He's a man who walks
in front of bullets!

Mr. LaBoeuf drew single-handed
upon the Lucky Ned Pepper gang

while we fired safely from cover.

We?

It is unfair to indict a man when
his jaw is swollen and tongue mangled

and who is therefore unable
to rise to his own defense!

I can speak for myself.

I am hardly obliged to answer
the ravings of a drunkard.

It is beneath me.

I shall make my own camp elsewhere.

It is you who have
nothing to offer, Cogburn.

A sad picture indeed.

This is no longer a
manhunt. It is a debauch.

The Texas Ranger presses on alone.

Take the girl. I bow out.

A fine thing to decide
once you brought her

into the middle of the Choctaw Nation.

I bow out! I wash my hands!

Gentlemen, we cannot
fall out in this fashion.

Not so close to our goal,
with Tom Chaney nearly in hand.

In hand?

If he is not in a shallow grave

somewhere between here
and Fort Smith, he is gone!

Long gone!

Thanks to Mr. LaBoeuf,
we missed our shot.

We've barked, and the birds have flown!

Gone, gone, gone!

Lucky Ned and his cohort gone.

Your $50 gone!

Gone the whiskey, seized in evidence!

The trail is cold,
if there ever was one.

I'm...

I'm a foolish old man who has
been drawn into a wild-goose chase

by a harpy in trousers and a nincompoop!

Well, Mr. LaBoeuf, he can wander the
Choctaw Nation for as long as he likes.

Perhaps the local
Indians will take him in

and honor his gibberings
by making him chief!

You, sister, may go where you like.

Our engagement is terminated.

I bow out.

- I am going with you.
- That is not possible.

Have I held you back?

I have a Colt's Dragoon
revolver which I know how to use,

and I will be no more of a burden
to you than I was to the marshal.

That is not my worry. You've earned
your spurs. That is clear enough.

You've been a regular
old hand on the trail.

But Cogburn is right,

even if I would not give him
the satisfaction of conceding it.

The trail is cold

and I am considerably diminished.

How can you give up now

after the many months you've
dedicated to finding Chaney?

You have shown great determination.

I misjudged you.

I picked the wrong man.

I would go on in your company
if there were a clear way to go.

But we'd be striking out blindly.

Chelmsford's gone.

We chased him right off the map.

There's nothing for it.

I'm bound for Texas.

Time for you to go home, too.

The marshal, when he sobers,

is your way back.

I will not go back. Not
without Chaney, dead or alive.

I misjudged you as well.

I extend my hand.

Mr. LaBoeuf, please.

I know you.

Your name is Mattie. You're
little Mattie the bookkeeper.

Isn't that something?

Yes, and I know you, Tom Chaney.

- What are you doing out here?
- Come to fetch some water.

I mean, what are you doing
in these mountains here?

I have not been formally deputized

but I'm acting as an agent
for Marshal Reuben Cogburn

and Judge Parker's court.

I have come to take
you back to Fort Smith.

Well, I will not go.
How do you like that?

There is a posse of officers up
there who will force you to go.

That is interesting news.
How many is up there?

Right around 50. And they're all
well-armed and they mean business.

What I want you to do now
is come on across the creek

and walk in front of me up that hill.

I think I will oblige the
officers to come after me.

Well, if you refuse to go,
I will have to shoot you.

Well, then, you had
better cock your piece.

All the way back.

- Till it locks.
- I know how to do it.

- You will not go with me?
- No, it's just the other way around.

You're going with me.

- I did not think you would do it.
- Well, what do you think now?

One of my short ribs is broken.

You killed my father when
he was trying to help you.

I have one of the gold pieces you
stole from him. Now give me the other.

- Nothing's gone right for me.
- Mattie!

- I'm down here.
- Now I'm shot by a child.

Chaney is taken into custody.

- Help me!
- Mattie!

Marshal!

Take them horses you got and move!

Tom, you get on up that
hill. Don't you stop.

- Who all's down there?
- Marshal Cogburn and 50 more officers.

You tell me another lie
and I'll stove your head in.

Just the marshal.

Rooster.

Cogburn! You hear me?

You answer me, Rooster!

I will kill this girl.
You know I will do it.

The girl is nothing to me!
She's a runaway from Arkansas!

That is all very well. Do
you advise that I kill her?

Do what you think is best, Ned!
She's nothing to me but a lost child.

Think it over first.

I have already thought it over.

You get mounted double fast!

If I see you riding over that bald ridge
to the northwest, I will spare the girl.

You have five minutes!

There will be a party of
marshals here soon, Ned!

Let me have the girl and Chaney, and
I will mislead them for six hours.

Too thin, Rooster. Too thin!

Your five minutes is
running! No more talk.

Get on up that hill!

Quiet there.

- Farrell, see to Tom's wound.
- Can I have some of that bacon?

You help yourself.
Have some of the coffee.

I do not drink coffee. I'm 14.

Well, we do not have buttermilk
and we do not have bread.

- We are poorly supplied.
- Where is she?

- What are you doing here?
- I ought to wring your scrawny neck.

You let that go.

What happened, huh?

I will tell you and you will
see that I am in the right.

Tom Chaney there shot my
father to death in Fort Smith,

and robbed him of two gold
pieces and stole his mare.

I was informed Rooster Cogburn had grit
and I hired him to find the murderer.

A few minutes ago, I came upon
Chaney watering the horses.

He would not be taken
in charge and I shot him.

If I had killed him, I would not be
now in this fix. My revolver misfired.

It will do it. It will
embarrass you every time.

Most girls like to play pretties,
but you like guns, do you?

I do not care a thing
in the world about guns.

If I did, I would have one that worked.

I was shot from ambush, Ned.

My horses was blowing and making
noise. That officer got me.

How can you sit there
and tell such a big story?

That pit is 100 feet deep
and I will throw you in it.

I'll leave you to scream and
rot! How do you like that?

No, you won't. This man will
not let you have your way.

He is your boss and you
have to do as he tells you.

Well, nothing's going my way.

Was that Rooster waylaid
us night before last?

It was Marshal Cogburn and myself.

You and Cogburn. Quite the posse.

- Let us move, Ned.
- In good time, Doctor.

What happened to Quincy and The Kid?

They are both dead.

I was in the very middle of it.
It was a terrible thing to see.

Please, let us move,
Ned. The marshal's gone.

- Do you need a good lawyer?
- I need a good judge.

What happened to Coke Hayes, the
old fellow shot off his horse?

Dead as well. His depredations
have come to an end.

Your friend Rooster does
not collect many prisoners.

He is not my friend.

He's abandoned me to
a congress of louts.

You do not varnish your opinion.

Are we off?

Let us cut up the winnings
from the Katy Flyer.

There'll be time for
that at The Old Place.

- I will mount the bay.
- I have other plans for you.

- Must I double-mount
with the doctor? - No.

No, too chancy with two men
up if it comes to a race.

Tom, you wait here with the girl.

When we reach Ma's house, I'll send
Carroll back with a fresh mount.

You will be out by dark, and we
will meet you at The Old Place.

I do not like that.

Let me ride with you, Ned,
just out of here anyway.

- We're short a horse.
- Marshals will come swarming.

Hours, if they come here at all.
They'll think that we've all gone.

I am not staying here by
myself with Tom Chaney.

- That's the way I will have it.
- He will kill me.

You heard him say it.
He's killed my father

and now you will let him kill me.

He will do no such thing.

Tom, you know the crossing at Cypress
Forks, near the log meeting house?

When you are mounted, you take
the girl and leave her there.

Do you understand, Tom?

Any harm comes to that
child, you do not get paid.

Harold, let me ride up with you.

Farrell!

I will pay you $50 out of
my winnings. I am not heavy.

Do the calf again, Harold!

Everything is against me.

You have no reason to whine.

If you act as the bandit chief
instructed, and no harm comes to me,

you will get your
winnings at The Old Place.

Lucky Ned has left me, knowing I am
sure to be caught when I leave on foot.

I must think over my position
and how I may improve it.

Where is the second
California gold piece?

- What have you done with Papa's mare?
- Keep still.

Are you thinking about The Old Place?

Look here, if you let me go, I
will swear to it in an affidavit

and once you are brought to
justice it may go easier on you.

I tell you, I can do better than that.

I need no affidavit.

All I need is your silence.

Your father was a busybody like you.

In honesty, I do not regret shooting
him. He thought Tom Chaney was small.

And you, you would give me an affidavit.
You're all against me. Every...

So that is Chelmsford.

Strange to be so close to him at last.

Mr. LaBoeuf. How is
it that you are here?

I heard a shot and
went down to the river.

Cogburn outlined a plan. Mind
your footing, there's a pit there.

His part, I fear, is rash.

He returns for Lucky Ned.

Well, Rooster, will
you give us the road?

One against four? It is ill-advised.

He would not be dissuaded.

Hello, Ned.

How many men is with the girl?

Just Chaney. Our agreement is in force.

She was in excellent
health when last I saw her.

Farrell, I want you and
your brother to stand clear.

You as well, Doctor. I have
no interest in you today.

What is your intention, Rooster?
You think one on four is a dogfall?

I mean to kill you in one minute, Ned.

Or see you hanged in Fort Smith
at Judge Parker's convenience.

Which will you have?

I call that bold talk
for a one-eyed fat man!

Fill your hand, you son of a bitch!

- Shoot them, Mr. LaBoeuf.
- Too far. Moving too fast.

Well, Rooster,

I am shot to pieces.

It seems neither of us
is to see Judge Parker.

Oh, Lord.

Some bully shot! That
was 400 yards, at least.

Well, the Sharps carbine is a...

Stand up, Tom Chaney.

Mr. LaBoeuf.

Are you alive?

Mr. LaBoeuf!

Mr. LaBoeuf!

Mr. LaBoeuf!

Are you there?

- I'm here!
- Can you clamber out?

I cannot.

- There are snakes.
- They awake?

Yes.

I am bit!

- Does Mr. LaBoeuf survive?
- He does.

Even a blow to the head could silence
him for only a few short minutes.

Where are you bit?

Look away now.

I have her. Up with us!

We're up, Mr. LaBoeuf. Take her.

She's snakebit.

We're off. I'll send help
for you as soon as I can.

Don't wander off.

We are not leaving him.

I must get you to a doc, sis,
or you're not gonna make it.

I'm in your debt for that shot, pard.

Never doubt the Texas Ranger.

Go on!

Ever stalwart.

We must stop. Little
Blackie is played out.

We have miles yet.

Come on, you!

No!

That's it. Come on, now!

No, stop!

He's getting away.

Who's getting away, sis?

Chaney.

No. No!

No, no, no!

No, no!

No!

I've grown old.

A quarter century is a long time.

By the time we reached Bagby's
store, my hand had turned black.

I was not awake when I lost the arm.

The marshal had stayed with me, I
was told, till I was out of danger.

But he departed before I came round.

Once home, I wrote him with
an invitation to come by

the next time he found
himself near Yell County

and collect the $50 I still owed him.

I did not hear back from Marshal
Cogburn and he did not appear.

Then one day I received a note from
the marshal with a flyer enclosed.

He said he was traveling
with a Wild West show,

getting older and fatter.

Would I like to come visit him
when the show came to Memphis

and swap stories with an old trail mate?

He would understand if
the journey were too long.

Brief though his note was,

it was rife with misspellings.

Yessum?

I am Cole Younger.

This is Mr. James.

It grieves me to tell you
that you have missed Rooster.

He passed away three days ago

when the Show was in
Jonesboro, Arkansas.

Buried him there in the
Confederate cemetery.

Reuben had a complaint what
he referred to as "night hoss"

and I believe the warm
weather was too much for him.

We had some lively times.

What was the nature
of your acquaintance?

I knew the marshal long ago.

We too had lively times.

Thank you, Mr. Younger.

Keep your seat, trash.

I had the body removed to our plot
and I have visited it over the years.

No doubt people talk about that.

They say, "Well, she
hardly knew the man.

"Isn't she a cranky old maid?"

It is true, I have not married.

I never had time to fool with it.

I heard nothing more of
the Tex as officer LaBoeuf.

If he is yet alive, I would
be pleased to hear from him.

I judge he would be in his 70s now,

and nearer 80 than 70.

I expect some of the starch
has gone out of that cowlick.

Time just gets away from us.