All language subtitles for Young.Guns.II.1990.1080p.

Mr. Roberts?

William Roberts?

Thought you lost me.

You weren't kiddin',
were you?

Charles Phalen, sir.

Stackpole, McFee,
Lassiter and Phalen, Attorneys at Law.

How you doing?

So, what is it I can do for you, sir?

I'm dying,

and I wanna go before the Governor.

I wanna be pardoned.

Pardoned? For what?

For the killin' of 21 men.

I was promised a pardon
70 years and three months ago.

And you tell him

that you're bringing in
Brushy Bill Roberts,

alias William Antrim,

also known as
William H. Bonney.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. William H. Bonney?

Alias "Billy the Kid."

Billy the Kid, huh?

Billy the Kid
was shot and killed by Pat Garrett.

Everybody knows that.
It's common knowledge.

There are other lawyers around,
you piece of chicken shit.

Get back in your vehicle and drive

before I make it 22,
just for the goddamn hell of it.

Can you show me some evidence?

Scars or something? I don't know.

Do you have any scars?

What I'm gonna tell you
is historical fact.

It took place a year after
the great McSween fire of 1878,

what some call
the end of the Lincoln County War.

That's him.

When they ask, he drew first.

I got the drop on him.

Say what you will.

I figure to get at least 100 dogies
for his trigger finger.

Wait.

Do I know you?

Yeah. Yeah, you know me. You do.

Yeah.

Yeah.

What's your name?

Travers. From Tularosa.

Travers...

No.

Why you just
didn't wanna hide out up in the canyons

don't make the sense God gave a mule.

I don't know.

Well, now, this here's a dandy.

I'd taken up with
Arkansas Dave Rudabaugh

and Patrick Floyd Garrett.

Me and Garrett had a common interest
in the horse and cattle trade.

And contrary to what they say,
I liked the son of a bitch.

Now, most of the boys
that ran with me during that little war

are dead or gone or hiding.

But I never let them push me out.

New Mexico Territory was my home.

Well...

Shall we give him a proper burial?

Yeah, why not?

And I was making
one hell of a name for myself.

Um, Friday?

Good. Very good, Pietro.

Okay, so we have Friday.

Family.

Fulminate.

What else?

Over there.

- A watch?
- Watch. Very good.

Uh...

Wobbly!

Whoa!

Don't move.

Hey, Dave, put your lips around that.

How you doin', Beever?

What happened to you?

Padre.

Militia's been through. And the cavalry.
And they keep on comin'.

When you was in Guadalupe,
they sent in a new governor to clean up.

He's going
through the territory like the pox,

runnin' in everybody
who fired a shot in the Lincoln War,

draggin' them
all back across the whole damn country.

This says General Lew Wallace
has proclaimed a state of insurrection.

They're fixin' to do
a big exterminatin'.

And, Kid,
you're on the top of their hanging list.

They want to put you down.

Are you Billy the Kid?

No, but I am Arkansas Dave Rudabaugh.

You ever hear of me?

I killed 65 men,
not counting Mexicans and Indians.

You must have heard of me.
Come on. Rudabaugh!

Great.

I'd like some frijoles, and some coffee.

Please.

Get out of here, boy! If I have
to tell you one more goddamn time,

- I'll put an iron to you!
- Quien es?

Goddamn vagrant.
Came out in the orphan train.

- Eatin' out of my ashcans.
- Come over here.

Stealin' bread from my ovens.

- You know who I am?
- Yes.

"Yes"?

Where are you from? New York?

Pennsylvania.

What you got in that satchel?

Eastern
tenderfoot son of a bitch.

Beever, leave him alone. Shut up.

So, what do you want?

You want to just look at me?

Uh, go on. Have a look.

I want to ride the trail with the Kid...

Billy the Kid.

Prince of Piss...

Prince of Pistoleers.

Hey, Beever!

Hey, Beever,
did you hear that? Prince of Pistoleers.

I haven't heard that one before.

You want to ride with Billy the Kid?
Hmm?

Is that what you want? You want
lead shot in your leg like this?

Huh?

How about in your skull?

Hiding out in the damn
brush like some kind of lizard.

Everybody in the territory trying
to take a shot at you. Boom, boom, boom!

Is that what you want,
Mr. Pennsylvania, huh?

Huh? Is that what you want?

Yes.

"Yes"?

Beever, puff with him.

I got you, you little vagrant!

- Get out!
- Let go!

And stay the hell out!

Soldados! Ándale, ándale

What do you keep botherin' me for?

Can't you see I run a respectable place?

Go on. Bother somebody else, will you?

Shut up, Beever.

Gringo, vente pa'aca.

What's the matter?
You don't... You only like boys?

Putos.

Hey,
you bringing someone in?

They got one!

Doc Scurlock. Open her up.

- What you doing, boy?
- Yeah!

Nice to see you again, Doc.

Got a few of your friends
waitin' for you.

Scurlock.

I know you.

You've been delivered into my hands,
you stinking Presbyterian filth!

Chavez. Good to see you.

"When troubles come,
they come not single spies,

"but in battalions."

Josiah G. Scurlock.

I never wrote that.
I always wanted to tell you.

William Shakespeare wrote it.
You look good.

What about a drink, Doc?

Where did they catch you?

Seven rail days east.

Wife?

Child.

Chavez.

Where the hell is he?

Billy.

Whoa, whoa.

Heavy steps, Patsy.

Hey, gracias.

A messenger came through town today
from the new governor.

He wants to meet with you.

He can't catch ya.
You're making him look a fool.

Go on.

He wants to talk treaty.

You're boshin' me.

He wants you to turn
state's evidence and testify.

Testify against who?

Against the Murphy boys
he's got in that pit in Lincoln.

You can hang your old enemies, Kid.

It's the only chance you got
to save your neck.

You got no place left to hide.

So everybody's lookin' for me. Hmm.

Hey, Paulita Maxwell around?
She lookin' for me?

It's gettin' kinda lonely in here.

No, I don't think
Paulita Maxwell is looking for you.

I think Celsa Baca's lookin' for you.

Whoa, Celsa Baca!

You'd have to bear-grease
the damn walls to get that pig in here.

Yeah, that's the only thing
we'd have to bear-grease.

Well, Garrett was right.
I was running out of places to hide.

And here was Governor Lew Wallace,

the second best-known man in New Mexico,

proposin' to make a treaty
with me in Lincoln.

Then why give up
the sanctuary of a little village

where I was protected by my friends?

I found him! He's...

Well, I'll tell you why.

'Cause $500 cuts a lot of ties...

Ah, damn it, Ignio.

Move it! All right.

Keep it down!

Ride, Little Casino.

Run! Whoo!

Go, Billy!

Your Excellency, it's him. He's here.

Well, show him in.

Hi.

Mr. Bonney?

I appreciate your good faith.

Who are you?

Oh, I'm Governor Lew Wallace.

Extraordinary.

I was expecting
a rather rough and older fellow.

Not so smooth of face.

Cognac, Mr. Bonney?

Uh-uh.

Well, then, to the point.

The various crimes committed
during the Lincoln Cattle War...

Excuse me, sir, it was no cattle war.

It was a merchant war.
Irish against the English.

They killed my employer,
Mr. Tunstall, and I made war.

Those men that killed your employer,

the group that evaded the revenge
of your so-called Regulators,

they've become a rather
rough bunch since this merchants' war,

cutting prominent
ranchers' herds, like John Chisum's.

Yes, sir, they have.

And you have, too.

However...

...you're one,
and the Murphy-Dolan rustlers are many.

If you can testify
against what you saw in your little war,

I can then eliminate the many.

Well, what about the one?

My terms are simple.

Your testimony against
those who murdered your employer

in exchange for leniency.

No.

My testimony
in exchange for a full pardon.

Well, I'm afraid that's...

I testify,
and I ride out of Lincoln a free man.

If not, I ride out of Lincoln now.

Any of your boys try to follow me,
they wind up in a pine box.

If you were given pardon,
you would leave New Mexico

never to return.

You go on the stand
and help me hang 15 rustlers

and I'll give you pardon.

Of course, 15 minutes later,

the Murphy boys will shoot you dead
as a mangy dog in the street.

So we'll arrest you.

A staged arrest, for your
own protection before the trial.

But that's for you to decide.

Can I have some of that cake?

Pendleton.

Ah, ah, Pendleton.

Uh-uh.

The, uh, white cake,

with the sweet frost.

So, shall we proclaim
our secret parlay a success?

It's a deal.

When the neck is broken
there's only a sharp pain. Fast.

Then, if the other place accepts you,
the Spirit Horse comes.

It takes you there to the other side.

So don't worry too much.

When you die, you're gonna
see the Spirit Horse.

She'll come for you, my friend.

Great. Let me
tell you something, Chavez.

I don't really want
to catch a Spirit Horse.

I don't even want see the other side.

I sure as hell don't want to have
my neck broke with a sharp, quick pain.

The only thing I really wanna do
is get the hell out of here.

Me, too.

Well done, William.
Splendid performance.

However, there are three candles left,
and only two bullets.

Splendid! Splendid!

What did I say? Didn't I tell you?

Mr. Bonney, District Attorney Rynerson
is here to see you.

The Governor thinks it's best
if you have your restraints on.

Hey, Sheriff?

Can you bring that fiddle player
in again? He was quite good.

How 'bout some more of that cake,
when you get a chance?

And it's getting a little nippy in here.
Could you stoke up that fire?

Thanks, George.

Yes, sir. I was starting
to grow fond of prison life.

Top of the morning to you,
Mr. Bonney. Finally in chains, are you?

Still trying to keep up your game?

Well, we'll be seeing you
on the floor of the courts very soon.

I ain't being tried.

I'm testifying
against Dolan and all the other swine

who killed my friend
John Tunstall, yessir.

Are the bloody cocks
still running the coop?

Ah, to be sure, that's right.

Who gives testimony

is strictly within the discretion
of the prosecuting attorney,

who happens to be me,

who happens to think

not a bloody chance in the pit of Hades.

You can't bluff me.

No, I'll charge you.

Sentence you. I will hang you.

But I'd never bluff you.

See for yourself.

The Governor's on his way
back to Santa Fe now.

Pardon Billy the Kid?
Impossible.

I should've dusted
His Excellency's

regal ass when I had the chance.

He didn't exactly lie to me.

He just didn't have the power
against the Irish politicians

who were still running Lincoln County.

Good day, Mr. Bonney.

Good day, Mr. Dung Pile.

Another historical
and biological fact

was that I had small
hands and big wrists.

And that has saved my life more times
than Colonel Colt's equalizer.

Looks like it's getting near
to suppertime.

You boys hungry?

I got two lots
of news for you, good and bad.

I'll give you the bad news first.

All we got for supper
is horse shit.

What the hell's the good news?

There's tons of it.

The world hates
a smart mouth, Scurlock.

You're gonna realize that tomorrow
when you swing from the gallows.

That's if the lynch mob
don't come for you first,

which I hear tell they intend to do.

Let me know
if you boys want some dessert.

Howdy, Bell. Good evening. Howdy, boys.

If they stick their fingers up again,

I'll blow 'em off
like I did yours, hey, Murphy?

If there was one thing an outlaw
feared in the New Mexico Territory,

it was lynch-mob justice.

Right on time.

With no patience
for courts and trials,

they did it their own way.

And there was no stoppin' 'em.

Mainly because the so-called law...

Howdy.

...had no damn intentions
of stopping them.

You're a bit late.

Vigilantes!

Jesus, it's a lynch mob!

The Kid's escaped. Little weasel.

Oh, I'm sure he did, mister.

See for yourself.

Open the pit.

No Billy the Kid in there.

It's true. He's gone.

We might as well go.

We got some of his Regulators in there,
an Indian and a tenderfoot.

Rode with the Kid
on the Tunstall-McSween side.

How'd they be?

Ah, shit.
They'll have to do. Bring 'em up.

Pick your tree, breed.

Stop! I order you
as a peace officer of Lincoln County.

Gentlemen, I'm a schoolteacher
from the city of New York.

And the breed back there,
well, he's my guide.

And I believe you're about
to make an enormous error.

We know you rode with the boy-devil
and you're gonna hang for it.

I swear to you,
I never even laid eyes on him.

I was a schoolteacher
from the city of New York.

"I'm a school teacher
from the city of New York."

Howdy, Doc. How are your drawers?

Nice to see you again, Billy.

It's the Kid!

Come on, let's get out.

Jesus. You sure got a lot of boys
riding with you these days.

Them ain't my boys.

It's a real lynch mob! Get out! Ha! Ha!

Ha! Ha! Ha!

- Where'd they go?
- I don't know.

They went over that way!

I think we got him.

We've got to get out of here! Come on!

Hold still, now.

Got this buckshot infection in my elbow.

Makes my right arm kind of... Whoa!

Hold still, now.

I am still. Just shoot the chain, okay?

God damn. It's good to see you, Doc.

I knew you'd come back.
We made a pact, remember?

You, me, and Chavez. Pals, forever.

Billy, the chain. Come on.

Look, I don't care
if you guys swapped spittle

and pissed in each other's boots.

I don't take to tenderfoots in my gang.

And I definitely don't
take to no Mexicans.

It ain't your gang, Dave.

Mexican-Indian, you son of a bitch.

I'm sorry.
Tell me something, Chavez.

Was it the savages
putting it to a Mexican whore

or was it an Indian whore putting it
to the whole goddamn Mexican army?

- Whoa, whoa, whoa.
- Come on!

God damn it.

You remember something, Dave.

These boys
are the Lincoln County Regulators.

Yeah, was.

Were. Billy, come on, the chain.

You're right, Doc. Were.

There ain't no Regulators no more.

No room for 'em.

No room for me.

Billy, please.

I'm taking the Mexican Blackbird.

What are you taking?

The broken trail
that goes down to Old Mexico.

Only me and a few other boys know it.

Take the trail below. And, Doc,

once you're down there,
these basket men...

Pay 'em, they'll come up
and they'll get your belongings,

your family, whatever you need.

Come here, Billy.

Why don't you just
shoot the chain, okay?

All right, listen here. Mount up.

We're taking the Mexican Blackbird, huh?
Old Mexico. Let's go.

Come on.

Where'd you find him?

That was pretty good.

That's for you.

It's from New York.
It's for the horse.

That horse ain't for sale, Doc.

But, uh, how about my boots?
They're nice and broke and...

Son of a bitch!

Come on, Billy!
Kill that tenderfoot son of a bitch.

Come on. Get on top of him.
Come on!

Come on. Break it up, Billy.

I know you, you son of a bitch!

You know me, huh?

Well, I know you, Scurlock!

You killed half the men
I got credit for.

I saw you with
blood all over yourself. I saw you kill.

Just because you went back East
and married, and put on a silk cravat,

- that doesn't change what you did!
- Damn it, Chavez, let me at him!

You remember John Tunstall?

Remember the stories he'd tell us about
the three Chinamen playing fan tan?

Someone runs up to them and says,
"Hey, the world is coming to an end."

And the first one says, "Well,
I best go to the mission and pray."

And the second one says, "Well, hell,

"I'm gonna go buy me
a case of mescal and six whores."

And the third one says,
"Well, I shall finish the game."

I shall finish the game, Doc.

Whosoever's going
for Old Mexico, we ride now.

This ain't the untamed prairie
you used to run free over.

I got a family I gotta get back to...

The new governor was
a general at Shiloh.

He's got militia, he's got army.

He's got money to pay
glory hunters to run you day and night.

And they're on their way.

And they will kill you, Doc.

You take care of yourself, Pat.

They'll catch you, Doc,
and they'll catch me. Everybody but him.

The villagers say he's diablero.

He can change into a coyote,
disappear, and never gets killed.

Me?

I just think he's
the luckiest white eye in New Mexico.

I think he'll cross the border. He will.

Chavez, I can't ride with him anymore.

Trying to spend
the last year forgetting about him.

I read about him in the newspaper
and them damn 5-cent books.

Jesus Christ,
the children of New York City

imitate him in the streets.

He's in my sleep.

You gotta understand
what I'm sayin'. It's over.

When the Spirit Horse comes,
then it's over.

Well, Chavez knew
what he was talking about.

He'd seen the soldiers
murder his entire family.

And he'd been hunted down
like a dog and thrown in the pit.

He knew his only chance
was to skin out and head south.

But Doc, he did have
something else to go back to.

And although him and me
were like brothers

and he really
wanted to ride with me,

he just needed some time
to think about it.

Oh, no.

Where's the hammer?

Give us a hand.

That's it. Got it?

We want his head.
You understand that, Sheriff Kimbel?

I want you to get on your horse

and I want you to track this
little fiend to the edge of the Earth.

I want you to assassinate him.

I want you to deliver
his head in burlap.

I'd rather drink turpentine
and piss on a brush fire.

I ain't touching this one.

Billy, where are the men
you promised us?

You said you had an army.

I do.

Here it comes.

Jesus.

Just one? And that's all you could find?

No one want to come.

Everyone afraid.

- Are you a farmer?
- Yes, sir.

My name is Hendry William French.

You ever shoot anybody before,
Hendry William French?

You ever shoot anything before?

Sage hen.

Sage hen.

Well, tell me something, Hendry,

why is it that you want
to join my gang, huh?

Well, I ain't...

I ain't a farmer no more.

Uh, lost my wife to the pox.

Lost my land to the money men.

Hey, Big Casino,
why don't you saw a foot off this thing

in case we run
into Governor Wallace on the way.

I don't think I'm gonna
make this one, Kid.

What do you mean?

You gotta come with us, Pat.

What are you gonna do,
stay here and scrub pots for Beever?

I may have old Beever
scrub the pots for me.

I'm buyin' this place,
turning it into an eatin' house.

There's wildcat money comin' in here.

I gotta stake my piece
while I still got a fair enough name.

What name?

You'd be ridin' with known men, Patsy.

You always wanted to be
a known man in New Mexico.

Hell, I'll be a known man.
Next time you ride through here,

there'll be a big old sign out there
that says "Garrett's Place."

It's time I got an income
that ain't from stealin' horses.

You remember somethin', Pat.

I never stole a horse
from someone I didn't like.

If I didn't like them,
I just wouldn't even bother with 'em.

Nah, he'd just kill 'em.

Hey, come on, Pat. You're one of us.

You've always been one of us!

I always will be, Billy.

Well, go on, then! Go on!
We don't need you, Pat.

We don't need him.

Soapweed, I got you!

You want to eat
out of my ashcans? Go on. Have a chew.

Howdy, Beever.

Go on, sit with the boys.

What the hell's this?

This?

This is the Prince of Pennsylvania.

The first stop along the Blackbird
was to raise some dineros.

And John Simpson Chisum
was the richest man in the territory.

Not only that, but as anyone familiar
with the Lincoln War knows,

he was a financial partner
of Tunstall and McSween,

which made him an ally.

Old John admired my pluck
and loved me like I was his own son.

Well, by God.

You've really turned out
to be a snake, Billy.

When they catch you, they're gonna
dry-gulch your stinkin' bones.

I'm just tryin' to get my friends
to Old Mexico. We need some pesos.

Now, I've done some figurin'

and I figure
that you owe us, Mr. Chisum.

$250 for the fightin' we did last year

and $250 for me
leaving your stock alone.

Is that what you figured?

Yes, sir. That's what I figured.

Well,
you can take those figures

and shove 'em up
your arrogant little ass

and set fire to 'em.
I don't owe you a goddamn thing.

Now get the hell out of here!

I'll bring my 50 down
and give you a real game.

Yeah, we, uh... We saw some of your men
up there on the high range.

Passed right by them. Fine bunch.

Mr. Chisum,

you're right.
The Lincoln County War is over.

We just want
to get out of here.

Get down below.

Oh, you'll get down below all right,
Doc.

You'll get down below.

You're Billy the Kid, too, you know.

You all are dirty,
little Billy bastards.

And I don't owe
you anything, Doc, or you, Chavez.

You took my farm, Mr. Chisum.

You took a lot of farms, Mr. Chisum.

As long as Billy the Kid
is taking some back, I'm with him.

Everything all right, Mr. Chisum?

Yes. Yes, everything's fine. Uh...

Well, go on and bring
the men in, and, uh...

We'll have a little fresh coffee
with the boys here.

Yoo-hoo.

I'll make you famous.

Mr. Chisum, which one of these boys
is fastest with the iron?

Don't you do it, Billy.

That'll be me.

- You, drop Sam Colt.
- Billy.

Put her down, now.

Step away.

You owe me $500, Mr. Chisum.

So what I'm gonna do

is kill one of your men
for every $5 you owe me.

Only, I'm gonna do it fair.

How's that for square?

Now, when I go for my gun,
you start shootin'.

But I promise you,
you will not make it.

Ready?

Yeah, I'm ready.

Dave.

Oh, my God.

$495.

Hendry.

Oh, my God.

Hendry.

Oh, my...

$490.

You just killed yourself.

Bonney, you are a fool!

You call yourself
the scourge of New Mexico?

Well, by God, I am New Mexico.

And you are dead.

Let me tell you somethin',
Mr. New Mexico.

I wouldn't give
a bucket of piss for your future.

Skin out, boys.

You have yourself a good day, now.

I want him dead.

Well, the problem is he's protected
by all the surrounding communities.

They've made a bloody hero
out of a half-wit common horse thief.

That's what I say!

Let's hire a thief to catch one.

Bring him in, Governor,
and make the offer.

Pendleton.

If I've been brought here to be, uh,

implicated in anything, I just want
you to know that I'm a family man,

fixing to settle and run a business.

Mr. Chisum has informed us
of your ambitions, Mr. Garrett.

Now, Pat, we know
that you've been with Billy Bonney

several times when he cut my herd.

Now, Pat, we're looking for somebody
who knows his haunts, his, uh, hideouts.

Somebody who is familiar
with his patterns.

You are familiar with him, Mr. Garrett?

You see, Patrick,

certain changes need to be structured.

We need a sheriff who can
eliminate this particular problem.

I don't quite follow what you're sayin'.

We're sayin',
"Sheriff of Lincoln County."

Sheriff Pat Garrett.

Now, that ought to make
you feel pretty good.

And we're saying $500.

Up front.

And $500 after.

$1,000, Mr. Garrett.

And all the resources
you need to carry out the extermination

of one William H. Bonney.

Is that satisfactory?

While Pat was thinking about
the Santa Fe ring's generous offer,

me and the boys
were busy sorting out our finances.

We figured
that if it was too much of a hardship

- for Chisum to give us any money...
- Howdy.

...well, then we'd help him out

- and just take a few of his cows.
- Bought some cows.

I guess what
I'm trying to say is, you're called Kid

and, uh, Rudabaugh's
called Arkansas Dave.

And, uh, I dare say
Doc's Christian name ain't Doc.

You want a name?

Yes, sir. I would like that.
I would like that very much indeed.

You have to earn it, Hendry.

Until then, you're stuck
with plain old Hendry. Sorry.

Still trying to get
this ragsheet off the ground, Ash?

The copy is good, the machine is bad.

I hear you're gonna be
opening up an eatin' house, Garrett.

Would you like to secure
an advertisement?

I've changed my mind.

Jesus Christ.

You're the one that
the Santa Fe ring hired...

Never mind that.

I want to hire you for a job.

You do?

I want you to document the hunt
for the most famous man in New Mexico.

I want a book written on it,

so that the people
will understand the situation.

I want you to ride along with me

and record the dangers
of the expedition.

Ride along with you? On a horse?

Oh...

This I can't do.
I came out West to save my last lung.

I'm a journalist.

You're a broke journalist.

And you're a drunk.

The country was overgrown
with weed and brush

and encumbered with loose rock,

making it almost impassable.

I like that. That's very good.

Good morning, Sheriff.

We met at the Governor's.
John W. Poe, Cattlemen's Association.

The Governor sent
me and these men to lend you a hand.

Encumbered by idiots, we pressed on.

I like that. It's very good.

What did they do now?
Spell your name wrong?

Got a new sheriff on us, boys.
Goes by the name of Pat Garrett.

Jesus Christ!
What the hell did he do that for?

To make himself famous.
Be a known man like me.

What about me?
What'd they say about me, huh?

Nothing, Dave.

Just playing the game, Doc.

We'll give him a game, all right.

All right, Dave's boys, we ride now.

We are gonna give Pat Garrett the ride

of his miserable
two-faced stinking life.

Let's skin out, come on!

Come on!

Do you believe this?

Hey, Tom.

Last one out of here
drinks dirty dishwater. Come on!

- Son of a bitch.
- Whoo!

Halt.

Burial ground. Warm Springs People.

Apache.

We better get going.

We'll go around.

Chavez, why don't you
go peck shit with the chickens, huh?

You know what they're payin' for
Apache bone in Silver City, right now?

Christ Almighty, they're making...
They're making ashtrays,

they're making combs,
they're making knife handles...

You get 50 cents
for a good Indian leg bone.

It's all out there,
so don't you go getting sentimental

and all that, all right? Come on.

You go in there,
smart gringo, and I'll bury you there.

- Okay.
- Let's go.

Come on.

Whoo! Silver City, here I come.

Shit.

Son of a...

I don't think so, Dave.

That Mexican-Indian
may have lost his family,

but he hadn't lost
a trick when it came down

to an old-fashioned
pig-sticking match.

You want your knife back?

Shit.

Get up.

And, Dave, well,
he appreciated the value of fair play.

But he also appreciated
the value of a good bone-handled knife.

And we were going
around that cemetery, I promise you.

Thank you.

Garrett!

Get me off this animal!
I have to have a movement.

You have to have a what?

He has to have a shit.

I have to have a movement, please.

That's the fourth one today.

And, Sheriff,
at the risk of offending you,

your newspaperman is hindering
an important government operation.

I have to request
that he be discharged from service.

What do you make of it?

A tobacco pouch.

It's his. I gave it to him.

It's buffalo scrotum,
from my first kill.

Big old bull near Fort Griffin.

That's a pretty story, Sheriff.

Why'd he leave it
hangin' there like that?

Just to say hello.

Looks like
he's saying more than hello.

What's "scum"?

Well, Tom, that's bad types.

Politicians, bankers,
cattle kings. Scum.

Come on.

Come along, Mother.

Oh, well, I'll be hog-tied
and sent to Hades! Billy!

Oh!

What have we got here?

- How are you, Jane?
- Wicked boys.

Four, five, six wicked boys.

Wicked and wanted,
or just plain wicked?

$1,000 are on me.

Yeah? I heard $500.

Well, you heard wrong, Jane.

Well, I also heard
that you ain't long for the territory.

We're not.

We're going to Old Mexico. Right, Billy?

Well, good luck. How old is this fellow?

- Seventeen.
- Fourteen and a half.

Fourteen and a half?

Oh, well, don't forget that half.

There's a lot of experience
packed into that half.

It's different.

My hair?
It's the new fashion. You like it?

Yeah, your hair, but...
But everything.

This whole town.
Outside, too. They got a church.

This ain't White Oaks.

Yeah, well, there's
2,011 souls in this town, Kid.

A lot of back East money.

The town's different. It's respectable.

You're not telling us
you've gone respectable, Jane, have you?

Well, to the eye
that don't know no better, yeah, I have.

Well, I've heard enough.

My boys here would like some
boonda upstairs right quick, darling.

Did I hear you say you'd like
a "Excellent malt,

"six times served,
in a room with a southern view"?

You're a lady to the manor born, Jane.

To the manor born.

He was hurt pretty good.

Looks like the muskrats are in a trap

and chewing their own legs off.

All right, we're going north.

South, you mean.

No, I mean north.

But, Sheriff, the last time
I heard, Old Mexico is still south.

You ever hear of a coydog, Poe?

- Half common dog, half coyote.
- Yeah.

You feed one,
he keeps coming around. No fear of man.

The Kid's a coydog.

We've come 150 miles without a town.

Right about now,
he's looking for some attention.

Ash!

He ain't my concern.

Sheriff, I think
I need to have a movement.

Me, too.

'''Over the Mountains
Of the Moon

'''Down the Valley of the Shadow

'''Ride, boldly ride' The shade replied

'''If you seek for Eldorado!'''

Why, that was heavenly.

Who wrote it?

Josiah "Doc" Scurlock.

Who the hell is that?

You come back, now.

Oh, no.

Billy!

Look out the window, Billy!

Billy!

They don't tolerate scum.

Help me gather the boys.
Go on, get everyone downstairs.

Billy the Kid,

alias William H. Bonney.

It's Deputy Carlyle.
I best go speak to him.

...and Dave Rudabaugh of Las Vegas!

He said Dave Rudabaugh of Las Vegas!

I'm real happy for you, Dave.

...black knights on the premises,

turn your bodies over to the law

or perish in flame!

Carlyle,
what the hell's going on down here?

Billy the Kid,

we have Jane Greathouse
held out here.

I'm coming in to talk to you.

If anything happens to me,

the citizens here
say they will string her up

and burn her.

Do you agree to those terms?

Do I agree
to those terms?

Who is this guy?

Uh...
Yes, sir, we agree to those terms.

I'm goin' in.

All right, boys,
put your guns away and look respectable.

Ladies, upstairs.

O'Folliard, disappear.

Gentlemen.

Uh, gentlemen, which of you
is the leader of your gang?

That would be me.

Arkansas Dave.

You are not, Dave.

- I am so!
- You are not!

- I am so.
- Are not.

- I am so.
- Gentlemen.

I am a deputized man.
I do things the law way.

Which way?

Law way.

Law way. I see.
Okay, go ahead. Go ahead.

Now, the people out there,
they do things their own way.

They got their minds set on a hanging.

It's gonna be hell
if I can't control this situation.

So, what I propose is this.

I understand
you have an Indian in your group.

Yes, sir. Jose Chavez y Chavez.

He's a Mexican-Indian.
How'd that be?

Well, that'll be just fine.

If I can give this Indian
to those people out there,

they'll be well satisfied.

And the rest of you can just ride out.

You hear that, Chavez?

Sir, I agree to those terms.

They are an angry mob, indeed.

And we do happen to have
an Indian on the premises.

Give me your hat.

Now, Mr. Law Way,

may I see your hat?

I really don't see
how hats are relevant in this situation.

I do.

Dave.

The gentleman's jacket.

There.

Deputy Carlyle!

Now I can talk to you.

Now you don't look
like such a politician.

Can I take the Indian with me, or not?

The Indian's goin' out
to satisfy the crowd.

But you obviously don't understand
the meaning of the word "pals."

You think I'd hand my friend over
to a bucket of mule dung like you?

That's an insult.

Turn around, chief.

Come on, Carlyle,
are you bringing him out or not?

All right, you white caps!

We're coming out,
but we're coming out shooting!

Get ready for war!

Uh-oh.

Oh, my God.
That's Deputy Carlyle.

That's James Carlyle.

Come on, let's go.

They're leaving.
They're all skinning out.

Pals.

Of course they were skinning out.

They had just murdered their own deputy.

They pinned that one on me, too,
but I never fired one shot.

Just saying hello, Pat?

Did you entertain him?

Maybe.

Did you like it?

Maybe.

Remember the time
you, me, and him locked all the doors,

stayed up till the sun,
breaking the place up with six shooters?

Every bottle in the bar.

Naked as jaybirds, and there was no law.

No law, and no barbed wire.

Patrick, I'm going to part
with a nasty secret.

You used to make me
hotter than a June bride

sitting bareback on a depot stove.

But I don't share my bed with the law.

And I don't keep with whores no more.

So ain't we both content.

Jane Greathouse,

the citizens of White Oaks have
proclaimed this place the devil's den.

As Sheriff of Lincoln County,

I have to honor and protect
their civic virtues.

I'll show them
what my civic virtues look like,

all those stall-fed tenderfeet,
with their shin plaster

and their Sunday wives
in their Sunday dresses

with a preacher
at the back door by morning

to see if they got
the Connecticut blue laws

tattooed on their lily-white buttocks!

Oh, Lord!

White Oaks, you can kiss my ass!

Hey.

You got any water?

Old timer, when did this place boom up?

Last week.

Copper?

No.

Guano. Bat droppings.

Bat droppings?

I've been to gold towns, silver towns.

I've even been to turquoise towns.
But I've never to a bat-shit town.

I can't wait to see the women.

We got 'em.

Come on! Go!

Whoa!

Ash leeh! Ash leeh!
Ash leeh! Ash leeh!

Phew!

Jesus Christ!
Even their horses are crazy.

Hey!

It's all right. We got time.
We'll go back through the arroyo.

Well, That's convenient, ain't it?

- Pardon me?
- The Kid'll be long gone.

Maybe that's what you want, Pat.

What I want is for you to cork
your goddamn government mouth, mister.

And the next time
you address me common,

I will put you
on your prissy little ass.

Sweet Mary's ass. How the hell
did you get him to do that, huh?

What's that mean, anyway,
"ash leeh, ash leeh"?

It's an ancient Navajo word.

It means "stop."

Stop.

When we get to the top of this bluff,

we'll have a clear view
of the Naschitti River.

We'll sell the horses off,

then we'll take
a skiff downriver into Mexico.

Hey, Tommy, last one up the hill's
a three-legged dog!

Billy.

Is this Old Mexico?

No.

It's Garrett.

Skin out, Tom!

I got him.

My God!

You shot me.

You really shot me.

Take your medicine, son.

Well, it's a start.

I spent a lot of nights
in this cabin after the Lincoln War.

Tried to put another outfit together

but it never was the same.

When you boys came back,

I felt like there was nothing
I wouldn't do to keep a gang together.

Keep ridin'.

What are you saying?

You know what the Mexican Blackbird is?

It's a broken trail
that leads to Old Mexico.

It's a half-black, half-Mexican whore

up in Puerto de Luna.

So you mean
you named the trail after her, right?

There is no trail,
is there, Billy? Is there?

What about Old Mexico you promised us?

I'd be just another gringo
in Old Mexico.

It's the same as being dead.

What about Tommy?

You son of a bitch!

You're starting to believe what
they're writing about you, aren't you?

Let me tell you what you really are.

You rode a 15-year-old boy
straight into his grave

and the rest of us straight to hell.

Straight to hell.

William H. Bonney,

you are not a god.

Why don't you
pull the trigger and find out?

I got to get back home.

Doc!

What the hell are you doing?
We aren't in position yet.

They killed him.

That bastard killed you.
Get up, Doc. Come on, get up.

You leave him alone!

He's a dead man!

They're starting to surround us.
We gotta skin out of here.

We gotta make a break!

Don't look at this. Look up.

So who's going to bust out first?

Well, Hendry William French,
you never killed nobody.

They ain't gonna shoot at you.

Go to hell. They shot Tommy!

Somebody's gotta do it.

Jesus, there must be
at least 10 of 'em out there.

Get me up.

Dave,

- it's your gang.
- What?

It's your gang.
You lead us out. Come on!

It ain't my gang, it's your gang.
It's always been your gang.

Don't cross me, Dave.

Billy!

Let's finish the game.

Come on, Chavez! Go!

What the hell did you do that for?

Pat, you son of a bitch!

You killed a boy!

And you killed Doc! You knew him!

Chavez is back there!

Hendry, you gotta
forget about him. He's buzzard meat.

Come on, they all are.
It's just you and me, farm boy.

We've got to head for the border.

Shit.

It is therefore
considered by the court here

that said defendant
William H. Bonney, alias Kid,

alias William Antrim,
alias Henry McCarty,

be confined in prison
in said Lincoln County

by the Sheriff of such county

until on the day aforesaid
he be taken from such prison

to a suitable and convenient
place of execution within said county

and there be hanged
by the neck till he be dead,

dead, dead!

Now, do you have
anything to say, young man?

Yes, Your Honor, I do.

You can go to hell, hell, hell!

I got 18 dimes in each barrel, boy.

You ever see what $1.80
can do to a $40 steer?

Let alone a cheap little crook
like yourself.

You just taunt me again, boy.

That's all I'm asking.
Just taunt me again.

I want to talk to Garrett.

He's in Mesilla.

Got a big interview
and a tintype with the Independent.

Oh, yes.

Famous man now.

Hey, Bell,

did you send my letter
to the Governor, or did you burn it?

It was sent, Kid.

The Sheriff had me
put it on the mail stage myself.

Then why isn't he answerin'?

I don't know.
Maybe he ain't one for correspondence.

My sister up in Colorado's like that...

Will you just shut the hell up, Bell?

Chavez.

Chavez, you all right?

What?

Yeah.

- You?
- Just fine.

Just fine.

Okay, Bell, here's another one to prove
that the hand is quicker than your mind.

Are you ready?
Are you watching?

- Ma'am?
- Hello, Jane.

May I visit Mr. Bonney?
I'm an old acquaintance.

No, ma'am. That ain't possible.

Sheriff Garrett won't
allow any visitations.

Well, may I leave a gift for him then?

You open up
a new rooming establishment, Greathouse?

Hell, no.

I opened a good
sawdust-on-the-floor, proper whorehouse.

Ma'am?

Goodbye, William H. Bonney.

Thank you.

Oops!

All right, Kid.
Let your squirrel go. Move it, pronto.

I wouldn't go in there if I were you.

Kid? Hey...

Yoo-hoo, Bell?

I'll make you famous.

Don't do it, Bell. Bell, come on,
don't do it. I ain't kidding.

Bell!

That was stupid, Bell.

Bell kill him?
Did Bell kill the Kid?

Hello, Bob!

Shit.

Goodbye, Bob.

Best $1.80 I ever spent.

Quit nappin' on the job, Bob!

Hey, uh...

Is this Old Mexico here?

Uh...

I made it.

Well, you do know who I am,
don't ya?

Arkansas Dave Rudabaugh.

You know the name?

They know the name.

You're not dead.

Do I look dead?

You should've seen the short work
I made of Bob Ollinger.

Spread him out like Tularosa.

We're skinning out.

There's a herd of slow elk
resting at Grezchelowski's sheep camp.

We'll cut 'em,
then we'll ride for Canada.

Chavez, make sure
the horses are watered.

Hendry...

I'll be staying here.

You stay here and Garrett'll take you.

Garrett already took me.

When?

When he took Doc.

That's a bad shot, Chavez.

A man gets shot like that, it's...

It's over.

Well, I guess...

I guess I really got us
into it this time, huh?

It ain't supposed to be you
sittin' there like that.

It's supposed to be me.

Where you goin'?

Chavez?

Chavez.

Buckshot George.

That's your name.

You wanted a name. That's it.

Buckshot George.

It's a good name.

My name's Hendry William French.

That's a good name, too.

In the ice house. A fresh beef.

Pete Maxwell butchered this morning.

Bring back here and I cook for you.

You are hungry, no?

Si, tengo hambre.

Let's finish the game.

Pete.

Pete, did you butcher this morning?

Quien es?

I shot
everything in the world except you.

But you still wouldn't go below. Why?

The same reason you couldn't
stay here and run a cantina.

But you'd be alive.
In Old Mexico you'd be alive.

I'm still alive, Pat.

And I belong here.

Not no more, Billy.

The people like me here.
They want me here.

Not no more, Billy.

You gonna shoot me, Pat?

I got no choice.

What are you waiting for?

You could let me go, Pat.

I could walk out that door,
and head straight for Old Mexico.

You could say you killed me
and no one would ever know.

You'd come back.

Like a damn nightmare,
you'd show up in Arizona, stealing cows.

Then they'd stone me.

You killed the boys, Patsy.

No, Billy.

You did.

If I was with ya, I'd be one of them.

This hurts, Kid.

But I'm in a place
I can't get out of, and I gotta do it.

Yeah.

You got to do it, Pat.

Do it.

I always said that if
I cared for someone,

there's nothing I would fail to do.

So I'm gonna make it easy on you.

You remember somethin', Pat.

You'll never be me.

You'll only be the man
that shot Billy the Kid.

Hasta la vista.

Hasta la vista,
you crazy son of a bitch.

Remember, William Bonney,

dust thou art
and unto dust thou shalt return.

I never stole a horse
from someone I didn't like.

Did I like him?

Hell, no.

I loved the son of a bitch.

You ask me if I have scars.

Yes, sir.

I have my scars.

Mr. Roberts.

Bill, wait.

Billy!

I don't think so, Dave.

Pals.

Ash leeh!

I wake up in the morning

And I raise my weary head

I've got an old coat for a pillow

And the earth was last night's bed

I don't know where I'm going

Only God knows where I've been

I'm a devil on the run

A six-gun lover

A candle in the wind

Yeah

I'll make you famous.

When you're brought into this world

They say you're born in sin

Well at least they gave me something

I didn't have to steal or have to win

Well, they tell me that I'm wanted

Yeah, I'm a wanted man

I'm a colt in your stable

I'm what Cain was to Abel

Mister, catch me if you can

I'm going down in a blaze of glory

Take me now but know the truth

I'm going down in a blaze of glory

Lord, I never drew first

But I drew first blood

I'm the devil's son

Call me young gun

Shot down in a blaze of glory

Take me now but know the truth

I'm going out in a blaze of glory

Lord, I never drew first

But I drew first blood

And I'm no one's son

Call me young gun

I'm a young gun

Young gun

Young gun

I've just seen trouble

He's calling out your name tonight

Billy, get your guns

You could walk away
but I know you were born to fight

So Billy, get your guns

The bandileros are
strung out in the promenade

Billy, get your guns

And the wind whispers softly
that the devil's to blame

Billy, get your guns

There's trouble blowing like a hurricane

Billy, get your guns

That's the price on your head
for the price of fame

And it'll never change

They christened you with whiskey

And there's fire
running through your veins

Well, you're an outlaw just the same

And every night a bullet wears your name

Billy, get your guns

There's trouble blowing like a hurricane

Billy, get your guns

That's the price
on your head for the price of fame

And it'll never change

Billy, get your guns

Billy, get your guns

Billy, get your guns