Original subtitles

Looks like the Lord's blessing us with another lovely day.

Morning, preacher Seth.

Bit of a nip, though. Had to cover up the rhubarb last night. Keep the frost

away.

You seem to be shooting at your chickens.

No, I'm shooting at that egg-stealing son of a bitch that's cowering in there

with them. Can't afford to lose more eggs.

Times are hard enough as it is.

Aren't you losing both eggs and chickens each time you take a shot?

Man has got to abide by his principles.

Suppose he does.

I

was

only gonna take one egg.

Stay down.

Did I get it?

No.

And it's not a him.

It's a young girl. Well, old enough to steal, old enough to deal with the

consequences. Blessed are the merciful, Frank.

They'll receive mercy themselves.

Are you saying that I could get into heaven if I don't kill that birdie egg

-sucking thief?

Yes.

What else is in it for me? Besides eternal salvation.

Yeah.

I can probably also get you a dozen eggs and maybe a gallon or two of fresh

buttermilk.

It's a deal.

How'd you get me off the hook?

I spoke in parables.

You what? I lied.

What denomination are you?

Pick one.

Sam Jr.? Power blockade's holding up. They're holding for now.

We can't let one shipment get through to town. If a truck gets through, it'll be

carrying my dead body on it.

Who's that?

Sam Riley.

He's leading our farmer strike.

Yeah, I've been hearing about that.

What are you striking against?

the american economic system how you gonna do that by breaking the systems

back one banker at a time one of these

bankers named calvin rumple has been paying off the local grocers to keep

their food prices low they call it price fixing and it means none of the local

farmers can make back enough money to pay off their loans no matter the crop

which is why we're doing this strike Once people start going hungry, not even

Calvin Rumpel will be able to keep food prices down.

And then the farmers can sell their goods and we might be able to save their

farms.

How does this banker get away with doing all this?

He must be making someone rich.

If you do that, you can get away with just about anything in this country.

Okay. This is where I live.

I don't see any houses out here.

Didn't say you would.

You can come to our church.

The whole congregation eats after our morning service.

I think I'd rather live in the woods and go hungry than listen to a preacher tell

me how to live my life.

We're not that kind of church.

Did you steal those from that old-timer's coat?

We're all a part of God's body.

All I did was shift these eggs from God's left hand to his right.

Here.

I don't take charity.

And I don't offer it.

This is a payment for listening to what I'm going to say next.

Okay.

Let's hear the sermon.

Next time, don't settle for just eggs.

Take the entire hand.

Simple economics.

You splatter some blood and feathers when you leave.

It'll look like foxes hit the coop.

Amen to that, preacher.

Any

deliveries

today? No.

Not today.

Not this week.

Good.

Let's keep prices where they are.

If the farmers keep blocking shipments and refusing to sell, they're going to

starve us all out.

I've got a feeling they won't.

In fact, when a dairy farmer does deliver a load of fresh milk today, pay

him and only him double the going rate.

What makes you so sure a load will get through today of all days?

Call it.

Banker's intuition.

Pete, something wrong?

I'm heading into town.

Calvin Rumpel told me I could get double for our milk if I brought it in today.

Lucky.

I can buy some groceries while I'm at it.

The doctor said you need to start eating if you're gonna get well.

Well, how lovely of you to join us.

I had to do a little proselytizing.

How's the goulash coming along?

I can't tell if it's bringing more people in or driving them away.

Sounds like my sermons.

How do I look?

Almost like a preacher.

Welcome, friends.

I'd like to speak to you today about Jesus.

Somehow in this modern era of ours, we have convinced each other that Jesus

Christ was some kind of respectable man, a figure of solemn authority.

But the cops and judges didn't crucify Jesus for being respectable.

They crucified him because he was an outlaw, a revolutionary.

They crucified Jesus because they were afraid he was going to take power away

from them and give it to the poor.

My friends were living in biblical times again.

There is a holy war in this country The rich versus the poor it's the

same war Jesus himself was in Damn

it

Pete we're on strike you ain't taking your milk to town

Pam is real sick. I'm broke.

Yeah, we're all broke, you idiot.

Colby, give me the gun.

All right, off with the tarp.

Sam, please.

We're all in this together, whether you like it or not.

Now you're gonna get up there and dump that milk yourself.

All right, boys.

We're gonna let Pete go.

See, Pete has milk to sell in town.

Now, I

shot this man out of self-defense.

Or am I incorrect to say?

But he aimed his pistol right at my person.

Unless you wish to join this man up yonder, I suggest you remove your gaze

from that weapon.

See, this former strike, it's over.

Go home.

Tomorrow, you're going to sell your goods in town.

Jesus tells us, think not that I am come to send peace on earth. I come not to

send peace, but a sword.

Not peace, but a sword.

Jesus Christ himself says that.

Because Jesus knew he was at war.

The question is, do you?

Who's gonna dig these graves?

Who's gonna dig these graves?

Somebody help me dig these graves I can't do it on my own

Who's gonna dig these graves?

Who's gonna dig these graves?

Somebody help me dig these graves I can't do it on my own

Let's all have a drink, huh?

Round of whiskeys for all my friends.

On me.

Now, if you don't think you're too good to drink my hard-earned whiskey, well,

we can... we can settle matters right now in Wyoming fashion.

I

hope

you enjoyed the service.

I've never seen the pulpit used for politics like that.

Well, the point's not to just understand the world, but to change it.

Is that in the Bible?

It's on every page.

Pete, it's Seth!

Sam.

We were blocking Pete's shipment like we planned.

But there was a strike breaker.

He shot Sam Riley.

He claimed self-defense.

Sam's dead?

He killed Sam right in front of his own boy.

A toast.

The life of Sam Riley.

He was too good, truly, for this godforsaken world.

Now, who else can... Speak to the character of Sam Riley.

Must be a brother among you?

There's nothing to do but farm, fart, and fornicate in his part, so... Sam

Riley must at least have a cousin.

What's your name, friend?

Preston. Preston what?

Riley.

Another round on me.

Well, cousin Preston.

Let's have ourselves a little talk.

Leave the bottom.

The bottom's up, comrade.

Comrade. Wasn't it true what they say, huh? That all the Iowa rallies bleed

communist red?

Isn't that what Sam here was doing?

Out there organizing and agitating the common revolt?

Sam was my second cousin.

We weren't that close.

Preston, I can see that you're a reasonable fellow.

So what I would like to know now are the names of anyone who might react to these

unfortunate events in an unreasonable manner.

Who would seek revenge for the death of Sam Riley?

He chews a toothpick, doesn't he?

What about Sam?

Sam Riley is your family.

Not mine.

But I'm sure you're going to do right by me.

Nice work, boys.

Is it true what they're saying? You deputized a bunch of Yankee

strikebreakers to shut us up?

Times are hard on everyone, Gil. You gotta get those minds open again. Times

are hard on everyone? Hell, you sound like a company man.

Yeah, well, go back to work.

What?

Prohibition's been repealed?

Get the governor on the phone.

Tell them I'm gonna need more than these strikebreakers to get those mines

running again.

We're gonna need the damn National Guard.

It is not politically viable for Governor Sampson to send in the Kentucky

National Guard at this moment.

So he sent me instead.

And... who are you supposed to be?

My name is Connie Nunn.

I am employed by the William J. Burns International Detective Agency.

Runs detective agency.

Like the Pinkertons, right?

Yes.

Except we are competent, dependable, and discreet.

It appears you have been suffering some local unrest.

Yeah.

And the, uh... the governor sent you?

As I mentioned.

It is not politically viable to call in the National Guard.

But if the striking miners instigated a bloodbath,

it could become politically viable.

Look, everyone's real angry right now, but there hasn't been any

kind of bloodbath.

No, not yet.

But before I commence my work, I would like to ask you a personal favor.

Have you ever seen this man?

Who's he?

His known aliases include Seth Bergson, Seth Fredericks, and Seth Dalton.

It is rumored he now masquerades as a roving preacher, composing seditious

pamphlets and inciting riots.

He was last seen in Marion County, Arkansas.

Dylan what?

Murdering my husband.

Maybe Sam Jr.

should think about heading out of town for a spell.

Until things settle down.

Sam Jr.'s needed here at home.

What if this cowboy fella that shot Sam wants to come for Sam Jr. too?

Why would you think that, Preston?

He was a cowboy.

He fired a colt.

I don't know where he was from.

He mentioned Wyoming.

How do you know that?

Cowboy brought Sam's body to the speakeasy after shooting him.

Bought everyone a round of drinks.

Son of a bitch.

I know you and Sam shared similar ideals.

But unless you can call down a miracle, we're gonna lose this farm.

I say we call down a miracle.

How?

I believe a miracle is nothing more than a moment of God's attention.

A man named Martin Luther argued against the corrupt authorities of his day.

He wrote out his argument on a piece of paper and then nailed it to the door of

a church.

And he called down a miracle.

What do you have in mind?

Is there some kind of church events you and the preacher would like us to cover?

Oh, not presently.

We've been here for six months, and I'm still trying to get a sense of this

town's landscape.

And I'll be with that. The town's landscape's predominantly flat.

Yes, I noticed.

Pretty damn flat.

Yes, it is.

Miss Preacher's wife.

Call me Amelia.

May I?

Please.

And it's not the town's physical landscape I'm concerned with. It's the

metaphysical.

They say a man's language is a map of his soul. Of course, I wouldn't know.

Is it true?

Perhaps. And the Holden Tribune is word of public record here. For better or

worse. So for better or worse, it's the map of this town's soul.

And yet, for weeks, your paper has refused to report on the collective

revolt of the local farmers.

Collective revolt.

Those are dangerous words around here.

Are dangerous words the reason that the farmer's leader who was just shot died

in cold blood?

Someone shot Sam Riley?

Is your paper going to ignore that, too?

I'm sure the appropriate words will be found.

What?

How lovely.

The appropriate words.

From today's paper, here stands the proud proprietor, Archibald Weems. As we

can see, the only emperor is the emperor of ice cream.

D.L. Sullivan, you're presently in the brief interval of your only life. Is

that how you want to spend it, writing about ice cream vendors and school

recitals instead of the life-and-death struggles of your fellow man? Yes, if I

want to keep my job.

And what about your soul?

There's something wrong, miss.

Let B be finale of scene.

The only emperor is the emperor of ice cream.

What the hell was that?

A line from a Wallace Stevens poem.

Never heard of him. No one really has.

She said someone just murdered Sam Riley.

The preacher's wife was just in here.

She said Sam Riley's been killed.

Sam Riley's dead.

An American tragedy.

Calvin, she was reciting poetry to my new reporter.

Well, let's make sure the sheriff is appraised on both accounts.

How long you been in this country, Eddie? Three headish years.

And you should be familiar with our moonshining laws.

Shouldn't you?

Uncle Sheriff Dunn?

Yes, my man.

Trouble in town. Some cowboy shot Sam Riley.

What do you want to say?

You brought me a clean shirt.

Ma even ironed it.

Oh, bless that good woman's heart.

So this is when you kill me, is it?

Kill you?

No.

Eddie, that would just be a waste of your fine moonshining talents.

No, now that you better understand our local customs.

I'm going out of business with you.

I want you to double your usual batch.

Half going to my speakeasy. Your speakeasy? And one half goes to the

brothel.

You're not the only entrepreneur in Holden County.

Find the cowboy.

Thank you for the ride, and here, take this. Maybe now you can afford to put

some fuel in this thing. Is this really necessary?

If the great humanitarian Herbert Hoover himself walked through that door, I'd be

checking his cock and balls as well.

Drop him.

a little bit, Valentino. I know I'm a pretty little flower, but you got to

save something for the girls.

What the hell was that?

Did it burn?

No. Good. That means you don't have any swords.

It's Lysol.

Della, we've got some real money out here.

You're ready to go, Your Honor.

Hello there, handsome. Welcome to our happy home. Have a seat.

If you wish.

How much stay here a week?

Well, that depends on how many girls and what exactly you have in mind.

One girl and a pay. Not to discuss it.

Will she be able to walk at the end of it? It depends if she stays. I'm a good

son.

Three hundred for a week.

Two hundred.

Room and board included.

Bold. The pure products of Iowa.

What they lack in glamour, they make up for in pliability and grit.

This $100 bill could be yours. For what? Well, first off, for not being stupid

enough to ask me questions.

Take a look at this and tell me what you think.

Yours. I want $200.

And, uh, why would I give a prostitute $200?

Because it appears you're looking for a reader.

And I'm the only one you're gonna find in this place.

There was an old man who lived on a hill. If he ain't moved away, he's

living there still.

devil he put her all up in sack and off to hell she went clickety clack singing

only got her on down by

half the road he said oh lady you're a devil of a love singing

Yankee strike breakers weren't enough. You had to bring in scabs while you're

at it. We've got wives and children, too.

Sure they do. Up north and down south.

Not here in Harlem.

He's in room three.

You put him with Bessie?

Don't get sentimental, Donald.

This is all you want.

Why don't you read it yourself?

I mean, you can't read, right?

You know what I like to hire whores to be my secretaries?

Because if you disappoint me, you can be so easily discarded.

Privacy. Our client has a vested interest in a peaceful heartland.

These farmers must be put in their proper place.

This is no time for exotic political ideals.

Our nation's very survival depends upon law and order.

Private Roon. I'd like to chat with a cowboy from Wyoming.

Would you be him?

Who's asking?

Sheriff Don Berriman.

Well, hello, Sheriff.

Hello, Bass.

I'd just like to talk to your cowboy friend.

Well, my cowboy friend's presently balls deep in darkling muff.

Give us just a moment to finish up.

Okay, one minute.

I think I'll stay.

Some of us have a reputation to uphold.

Ask. What?

You told the young lady to leave. You should have asked.

Hmm.

My dear Bessie, could you please give us a few minutes of privacy?

Of course, Sheriff.

I sent in all of you to ask.

Well, there was a shooting today.

Here in my county. Mm-hmm.

This is a quiet corner of the earth. We resolve our differences with words and

laws here, not guns. Words and laws.

Of course you do know that neither means shit unless there's a gun behind it.

Besides, that farmer aimed his pistol right at me, Sheriff. You can ask

anyone. I shot that AC... I don't know.

Aren't we suspicious?

Shouldn't we be?

Glad we're having this talk, Sheriff.

Because I do fear that some local citizens gonna seek revenge for my act

of self-defense. Well, they might.

You should leave town now.

Yeah, in due time.

First, take out my wallet.

It's under my hat.

Pegaton National Detective Agency.

My name's Creeley Turner.

We've been monitoring your farmer's truck for some time. We can't have it

getting any bigger or louder.

Now, I thought you fellas stuck to smacking around factory workers.

Why are the Pinkertons so concerned about some angry farmers out in the

middle of Iowa?

Because some of us would rather not have a homegrown Bolshevik uprising, Sheriff.

I can take care of those farmers myself.

If that were true, they wouldn't have sent me.

But we don't have to make this unpleasant.

So...

I'm gonna continue to conduct my business quietly, and you, you can

continue to do all your business.

Now, unless you're sticking around to give me a free one, I think it's

probably time you leave.

Where did you get this one, Preacher?

Seminary tussle.

Disturbed Calvinists.

Pet bobcat. Pet bobcat? Really?

Her name was Peaches.

She was ferocious.

Fearless.

Sort of my type.

I heard something.

Yeah, me too.

Seth, what is it?

There's someone outside.

Lock the door. Keep the lights off. If anyone tries to get in, shoot to kill.

Hide all you want, preacher man.

We know you're in here.

While you're preaching and agitating, it ends tonight.

That was the main artery in your leg. If you answer my questions, I might be able

to save you.

How many of you are there?

Three. And you're from here?

No, Chicago.

I'll censure you.

Preach. Please, censure me.

Some kind of don't pay this.

What do we say if someone comes by here?

Goldenrod.

For a winter garden.

Unexpected beauty pleases the Lord.

You're actually starting to sound like a man of God.

Good.

Because I sure as hell don't feel like one.

Seth, they were going to kill us.

They had it coming.

Maybe they did.

Why are you shutting me out?

I didn't know I was.

For two years.

We've been going from town to town, trying to start a revolution, trying to

get the working people to stand up for themselves.

And you still won't tell me anything about who you are or where you're from.

We agreed we wouldn't talk about our pasts.

We're burying the bodies of three men we just killed.

If that doesn't top what you've done in the past, then... It doesn't come close.

I've done wicked things in this world, and every day I'm trying to make up for

that.

When these three don't show up back in Chicago, whatever doctor hired them will

be sending more.

Scrambled eggs and blood sausage.

What the hell's going on?

I don't know. Then find out.

Holden County Sheriff's Department.

Sheriff Merriman.

No, he's not in. This is Deputy Berman.

I passed Sam Riley's son on a farm road this morning. He had a rifle with him,

and it looked like he was headed to Pete Collinsworth's place.

Who's this calling?

I think I heard a gunshot.

I just thought we should know.

Give me that whiskey.

Anything else?

Where's my letter?

I took it and I hid it.

What? It was in plain sight.

Sheriff's sharper than he looks.

And I thought it'd come in handy.

Blackmail extortion.

That's exactly who I am.

Yeah.

Well, you're gonna grift plenty out of me.

But only if we stay alive.

Come on, right there. Make them deep, Danny.

So who's this Dr. Hopkins?

He's a hell of a writer.

Touch of genius, maybe?

He'll be delighted to hear it.

Welcome.

My name is Seth Davenport.

My wife Amelia and I do our portion of the Lord's work here through this

church.

Whatever I want men to do unto me, I should do unto them.

As children, we were taught that the golden rule means to be kind.

But we're not children anymore.

And the Golden Rule is not an invitation to compliance.

It's a call to arms.

Because if I were to conspire, as our banks, businesses, and government have

all conspired, to rip off the very people who grow our food and keep our

nation strong, what would I want my fellow man to do unto me?

I'd want him to break my fucking back.

And if I were to threaten the brave farmers who've banded together to

strengthen one another, what would I want my fellow man to do unto me?

I would want him to break my fucking back.

And if I were to attack those brave farmers, what would I want my fellow man

to do unto me?

I want him to brave my fucking back. And if I were to murder in cold blood the

very man who led these brave farmers, what would I want my fellow man to do

unto me? I want him to brave my fucking back. And if I were Sam Riley himself,

what would I want my fellow brothers and sisters to do?

I would want them to listen.

Listen to Sam.

Listen to his silence.

A roaring, furious, deafening silence.

But what does this man's silence mean?

This is a peaceful assembly, Sheriff.

Pete Collinsworth's been murdered.

Sam Jr.

You need to come with us.

Oh, this is a lie.

I didn't kill Pete.

Sheriff, I didn't kill Pete.

Preacher! Preacher!

I didn't kill Pete!

I didn't kill anyone!

Preacher!

What are you going to do? I'm going to find the devil who's behind

this.

You'd never find me.

You look different than the last time I saw you.

You killed two men in this town?

I guess the Lord works in mysterious ways.

I want to try it in a third. Now see, I'm familiar with my limits.

Your work in this town is done.

So leave when you can.

Or else what, preacher?

You gonna save my poor, mortal soul?

and drag you to hell with me.

Who was that?

My little brother.

You be good.

You be good, boy. I didn't kill him, buddy. I didn't kill him. You settle,

boy.

You want some roughhouse?

I look down the river.

What do you think I see?

I see a band of angels.

And they're coming after me.

Look, I ain't gonna give up.

You can feel and I see.

Give it, don't you blow your trumpet.

It is begun.

Meet me.

Meet me in the middle of the hour.

Leave my wings and fade me.

Won't you meet me with another pair?

Meet me, mother and father.

Meet me by the river's door.

You know mama and I'll be there.

And I will share them my love. There ain't no better house. Gonna hold my

body down.

I hear that trumpet sound