Original subtitles

There was never anything between your wife and me

except her need for a man.

I'm sorry, Surratt, you wish to die

and I don't.

Mr. Paladin.

Well, we might just as well give up for now.

I'll join you later?

This has just arrived for you.

Thank you, Hey Girl.

A woman's handwriting.

How old?

Oh... a little over 30 years old,

insecure, bites her nails, educated.

But, of late, she has neglected

her cultural pursuits for the kitchen.

Shall I go on?

Hey Girl, one of these days, they're gonna have you up

for practicing witchcraft without a license.

"I appeal to you in desperation.

"If you cannot help, no one can.

"Come to Ott's Hotel, Patchwork Junction.

"I will contact you there Friday.

"As a retainer, I enclose a diamond brooch

with an appraised value of $2,000."

Hmm.

Somebody's having a pull at your leg, Mr. Paladin.

These aren't diamonds; they're paste.

Well, surely, she must've known

that I'd have its value checked.

Maybe not.

It is said, "Bending over a hot stove

has robbed more than one woman of her senses."

Well, any rate, I'll soon find out. Hmm.

Then you are going to Patchwork Junction?

Hey Girl, it's $75.

That's the best offer I've had to... day.

Sutter, you acquainted with the 13th Amendment

to the Constitution?

I believe it prohibits the keeping of slaves, Mr. Adcock.

You "believe"?

That's a good one.

Rebs fight a war to keep a statute off the books

and you believe that's what it pertains to?

What kind of wages does Mr. Sutter pay you,

Bent Nose?

He gets his room and board.

Well, a dog gets that, don't he?

Or a slave?

I'm doing what I can.

He's just a ignorant Modoc 600 miles from his kin.

It's up to society to protect him, hmm?

That's how Mr. Lincoln

would've wanted it.

Vamoose, Injun, you been emancipated.

Picked a good time, stranger.

That a fact?

Yep.

Town's as ripe as a cat in a rain barrel.

Gonna be lots doin'.

Throw in, Sutter.

Your string is played out.

With the Injun gone, there's only you and the missus

to work that property.

I know what you want from me, Mr. Adcock,

but it's no use.

I don't carry a gun.

You carried one at Shiloh, though, didn't you?

And that night at Ford's Theatre

when Mr. Lincoln was struck down?

I have never been to Ford's Theatre, sir.

I never been east of Wichita,

but there's a piece of me,

and a piece of every other loyal American,

went into that grave.

You are walking around breathing air

that should've belonged to him.

It's a privilege I aim to see revoked...

Gray Belly.

Then you'll have to do it all by yourself.

I don't intend to be an accessory to my own murder.

There's, uh, more than one way of killing a man.

Be an act of Christian kindness

to put this mangy nag out of her misery, hmm?

I hear any objections?

You hear one.

Get me checked into that hotel.

I'll be in in a minute.

What name will I say?

Yes, sir.

Are you wondering whether you can swing that gun around here

before I can clear leather?

If it'll help you decide,

I'll give you this much information-

you won't be the first man that tried.

Go on, get out of here.

Say, you're a cool one.

Your saddle dust ain't settled yet,

and already you've locked horns with Logan Adcock.

I said things were looking up.

Oh, the hotel clerk said somebody left this letter for you.

Paladin, huh?

I knowed you was a gun shark, soon as I seen ya.

Yes, sir, felt it in my bones.

Yes, happy days are ahead.

Old-timer, how do I get to Gilby's Pond?

It seems I have an appointment there

at 3:00.

You didn't sign your name.

I'm Marion Sutter.

I, uh, I wasn't certain

that I was prepared to see this through.

Once we met, there'd be no turning back.

On the other hand, if I didn't show up,

you'd simply pocket your fee

and return to San Francisco.

Well, if you mean that bauble you sent me,

that would scarcely cover my traveling expenses.

You're joking.

Why, that brooch is easily worth $2,000.

Sentimentally perhaps.

But diamond merchants do not deal in sentimentality

and, most specifically, they do not buy paste diamonds.

So that's how it's to be.

And because I'm a woman, I must submit.

Very well done, Mr. Paladin.

If I had wanted to cheat you,

I would simply have stayed in San Francisco.

I can vouch for these stones.

This ring was my mother's.

It hasn't left my finger since the day I was married.

No...

I'll tell my husband that I lost it.

No, I can't take that.

No one has a more profound respect

for the established totems of marriage

than the confirmed bachelor.

I can't have your husband deceived on my account.

Mr. Paladin, mine is not the first deception

in this marriage.

Who do you think misrepresented that brooch to me?

We began construction on a cotton gin,

and our expenses mounted,

so John went to the bank to ask for a loan.

Well, it was refused.

When John demanded some sort of an explanation,

he was referred to Logan Adcock.

Oh, yes, I've met Mr. Adcock.

So you know.

Well, our hired help quit that afternoon.

That town is that rabid?

Adcock is.

At least as far as John is concerned.

I assume that he feels that way about all Southerners,

since he has no reason to single John out.

All I'm certain about is that no one will work for us,

extend us a nickel's credit, or even nod hello.

Because without the Adcock cattle ranch,

there would be no Patchwork Junction.

I don't care about... about the cotton.

All I'm interested in

is seeing my husband put back together again the way he was.

You haven't watched him as I have.

Day by day, slowly becoming unraveled like...

like some condemned man marking time.

Marion!

Marion, come quickly!

He mustn't know I sent for you.

Come on.

I was out in the fields.

I couldn't have been gone more than 15 minutes.

When I got back...

What-What does it mean? Who did it?

How should I know?!

The same thing happened a few days ago.

Only the name was different.

What was it?

It was Spengler or Spangler.

I neglected to thank you this morning.

Is that why you come here,

to censure me for my thoughtless ingratitude?

No, sir, I've come here to apply for a job.

I understand you need a hand.

I could use a new life, sir.

Doesn't matter how shopworn or tarnished-

no bona fide offer will be refused.

Well, your wife has already told me you can't pay wages,

so I'll settle for a reasonable share of the profits.

Profits?

Our gin's inoperative, and the replacement up for

ransom at Dyson's General Store.

Well, we'll work something out.

We will?

Why?

You're no field hand.

Nor do I detect the selfless stamp of charity in that face.

There must be some compelling motive that brings you here.

But what could you possibly want from me?

John, please.

If Mr. Paladin is kind enough to offer to help us...

Strike that last question.

I'm already answered.

It'll be nice, my dear, won't it,

having a man around the house again?

Howdy, Mr. Sutter.

Ma'am.

This will sure put the taste of vinegar

in Adcock's coffee.

Mr. Dyson, you ordered some grits for me from New Haven.

We've come to pick 'em up.

I'll tell you now what I told you yesterday-

there's a matter of $118.43 due me C.O.D.

Now, no merchandise is gonna leave this place until I see it.

You see it now.

Well, there's, uh... there's something else.

There's an unpaid grocery bill for $78.

You raising cotton now?

Well, no, of course not.

Nor is anybody else

in this part of the country, except John Sutter.

And it follows, quite logically,

that if you don't sell that merchandise to us,

you're not gonna sell it at all.

Now, I can't believe

that a shrewd businessman like you

would take $196 worth of loss.

Now, look, mister, that's not the point.

No.

You and I know what the point is.

And when Mr. Adcock calls you to account,

you tell him that I "emancipated" this merchandise.

He'll understand that.

The, uh, merchandise is right over there.

No, wait a minute.

I believe this gentleman tripped you.

It's all right.

No damage.

No, no, no.

Let him pick it up.

I said it was all right.

I don't want any trouble, Paladin.

Excuse me.

Spangler, Atzerodt, Herold.

Why should those three names crop up again after ten years?

What do they mean to you?

You know these names?

You never told me who suggested that you send for me.

Well... it was Miggs.

The old fellow that you spoke to in town.

But it wasn't a suggestion,

it was just a-a casual reference.

Why?

It's not important.

And you'd better go in the house.

Your husband will need you.

Mr. Paladin...

yesterday, that would've been reason enough.

But today, I'm not so sure.

Well...

it wasn't quite as hard to put together

as I thought it was gonna be.

Coffee?

Yeah.

Thank you.

Uh, John told me

why he lied to me about the brooch.

He said that the diamonds went for taxes on the property.

He was afraid to tell me.

Afraid that he might lose stature in my eyes.

"A man can fail his wife once too often," he said.

You know something?

He's right.

Well, unfortunately, nobody has yet invented a machine

to remove the fear from a man.

A wife has to respect her husband.

Without that, there's nothing.

Can you honestly say that you respect John Sutter?

Well, I don't judge him.

Can you say as much?

He's a frail man.

A weak man.

But those rows of cotton out there- he planted those.

The barn, the house-

he built those and they didn't come easy.

That took some kind of courage, some kind of strength.

Won't you meet me halfway?

Must I beg?

Mrs. Sutter...

if that's all you want from me...

...you're overpaying me.

Mr. Paladin! Mr. Paladin!

Hold it!

That fast you ain't, Paladin!

He's not in the house.

He must have seen us coming and run into the cotton field.

Cotton field, huh?

All right, you and Gus put a match to it.

It'll go up like buffalo grass.

We'll burn him out.

You think you're in the angels' camp, huh?

Listen to this.

"Lewis Paine, David E. Herold, Michael O'Laughlen,

"Samuel Arnold, George A. Atzerodt,

Edward Spangler..."

And Mrs. Mary Surratt.

You know them, do you?

Along with Booth, they were the principal conspirators

in the plot to assassinate Lincoln.

There was one more, missus.

One that got away.

Mary Surratt's son John-

a yellow, double-dealing, Confederate spy,

who run off to Europe to avoid prosecution.

He changed his name and the years have aged that face,

but we both know it's him,

don't we, Mrs. Surratt?

Oh, it can't be.

Oh, dear God, it can't be.

Oh, no...

John Surratt was returned to this country in 1867.

The case against him was declared nolle prosequi,

and he was released.

By the government, not by me.

You place yourself above the government?

That's what the others did- Booth and the rest.

They were traitors.

Only because their side lost.

Man showed me a trick once.

You turn a right-hand glove inside out,

it fits the left.

Some folks can do that with words.

Put 'em in the barn for now.

I don't want to miss this.

Adcock, you didn't know about this until today.

Otherwise, you wouldn't have waited.

Now, who told you?

A patriotic citizen found this clipping

in a old trunk and brung it to my attention.

Patriotic citizen named Miggs.

Put 'em in the barn!

Ain't you in a sorry fix.

Near dead as a man can be and still sweat.

Yes, sir.

Here.

Here's a chance to attach some significance to your dying.

Anything you do might just be fatal.

Take the gun.

Cover him.

I'll try and save your husband's life.

No.

Did you ask me if I wanted him saved?

He's better off dead.

Well, I think that's a decision

your husband might prefer to make himself.

Oh, no.

I've earned the right to make that decision for him.

Gus! Yeah?!

Are you done?

Yeah!

Where's Joe?

Joe!

Miggs was right.

A man should make something of his dying,

especially when he's never made anything of his life.

Surratt...

why would you want to kill me?

Because my wife looked at you

the way she's never looked at me.

Surratt, I'm sorry.

You want to die and I don't.

Uh, that's my property, gun shark.

You give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you.

One good reason.

Didn't nobody get hurt didn't have it coming.

Miggs, you stirred up all this poison- why?

Why?!

Well, like I told you when you rode in,

Patchwork Junction ain't seen no excitement in 15 years.

That's a long time between drinks.

Fellow like me,

he needs something doin',

even if he has to stir it up hisself.

Chewin' and whittlin' just ain't enough.

Miggs...

in that shed, you'll find a shovel.

Now, you get it,

and you dig the grave deep.

Surratt's bones will have

a better sleep tonight than you will.

At least he's quit of a world

where a stinking vulture like you

can cause a thing like this to happen.

Now, get the shovel.

It seems that in peace, as well as in war,

sometimes the wrong men die.

Here.

� "Have gun will travel," reads the card of a man �

� A knight without armor in a savage land �

� His fast gun for hire heeds the calling wind �

� A soldier of fortune is the man called Paladin �

� Paladin, Paladin, where do you roam? �

� Paladin, Paladin, far, far from home. �