Original subtitles

I did not purposely delay it.

You set us up, you're in with Vasquez!

No, Señor Kyle, you see the trail was not my fault!

Pick up them rifles, you yellow-bellies!

Four times.

Four times I stop your wagons of ore,

and still you fighters will not learn.

You thievin' animal.

You call me animal?

My brother was killed in the filthy mines,

like so many of my people for your precious ore!

You are the animal, Mr. Kyle.

Your wagons will never get through

until I die.

What happened to your face?

You're coming with us.

Sí, patrón.

So he was in with you?

Hey!

Nice boots.

Take them off.

!¡Andale!

Push their wagons into the ravine like the others.

I'm not going to kill you, Mr. Kyle.

I want you to go back

and tell your miner friends

no ore will get to the market

until my people are treated like human beings.

I'll kill you for this, Vásquez.

Oh yeah?

Do you wish to try now?

No?

Perhaps another time, if you have the taste for death.

Now, you and your friends, start walking.

It's a long way to town.

Vamos!

Howdy folks, I'm the Old Ranger.

In the West, in the year 1872,

few men were both hated and beloved more

than the flamboyant bandit, Tiburcio Vásquez.

He was loved by his own people,

but hated by the mine owners and freighters,

with the exception of a French-Canadian

to whom he owed...

Vásquez.

That's the fifth time he's raided me.

I'll kill him next time, you hear me, Logan?

I'll kill Vásquez next time.

Get a bottle.

We got some planning to do.

Hey, Frenchie, I wanna talk to you.

My name is Nadeau.

You know that.

Yeah, well, I got forgot.

Look, Nadeau,

you're in the freighting business now, just like us.

We figure it's time we put our heads together

and did something about this bandit, Vásquez.

I have never had any problem with bandits.

Uh, you just started shipping.

You must have heard about this Vásquez

raiding us freighters.

I heard.

We got a way to stop him once and for all.

We're gonna hire some professional guns,

but it costs money.

We're all chipping in.

How about you?

Look, Mr. Kyle, every penny I make shipping ore

goes into the bank.

Besides, I am not a man who takes to killing.

Yeah, but look, Nadeau...

Don't argue with him.

We can't talk to foreigners, they know it all.

Maybe you'll think different

when Vásquez comes sweeping down out of the hills

and dumps your ore into a ravine.

Come on, we've wasted enough time.

Gotta make it look like a full load.

Alright, try it.

Got enough room?

There's room for half-a-dozen guns in here.

Fine.

Well, what's going on, Kyle?

A little surprise party for Vásquez.

From a distance,

this'll look like just another load of ore.

But the cargo is gonna be bullets.

By golly, it might work, Kyle.

It might work.

Patrón! Patrón!

An ore wagon is coming.

An ore wagon, muchachos!

The name on the wagon is Morgan Kyle.

Vásquez.

Now!

Stop!

Vámonos!

He's heading for the desert!

Must be dead in the saddle.

That horse is spooked!

Yeah, no live man would head where that horse is going.

I told ya I'll kill you!

I told ya!

Back to town.

The drinks are on me.

Ho!

Ho!

I took it.

I don't like guns.

It is there when you want it.

We will rest here until you are able to travel.

Why do you help me?

I will delay you.

Well, if I was injured and dying in the sun,

you would help me also, no?

Thank you, Señor...

Nadeau.

Rémi Nadeau.

My name is Mendoza.

Juan Mendoza.

The bullet I took from your shoulder,

it was from the bandits?

Bandits?

Oh, you... yes, bandits.

I was on my way to Los Angeles to see m... my brother,

when I was attacked by bandits.

Probably Vásquez.

I understand he has been giving a lot of trouble lately.

I...

I don't think it was Vásquez.

I don't believe he would attack one of his own kind.

Perhaps.

Your people regard him almost like a saint.

No.

He's not a saint.

He is a man who has vowed vengeance.

He only tries to... right what is wrong

with the hellholes, the mines.

His own brother was killed in the mines.

I can understand his hate.

The mines...

Slave wages...

Filthy pits in the ground.

One day, I would like to meet this Vásquez

and then I can judge for myself.

How is it that a freighter like you

never have met Vásquez?

Oh, for me, freighting ore is just something

until I can get the money to build my roads.

Building roads?

My roads.

To build roads where there is nothing,

to make paths you know other people will travel.

This is my dream

since I was a small boy in French Canada,

a small boy in a large family.

Sometimes, there was not enough to eat.

The terrible cold.

I also have known hunger and cold.

Hmm.

Always in my childhood,

I remember the ice and the snow,

shivering in the cold,

and reading of California

and the warm sun

of San Francisco

and the fine houses and big hotels.

I dreamed one day

I will build a big hotel

with many, many rooms, huh.

And enough food for everybody, huh?

My roads.

I will build many roads

that will give new life

to the people who travel on them.

Roads through Nevada, through California...

More roads will bring more mines.

More torment.

Buenos días, señores.

Señor Rodríguez.

This is Señor Mendoza.

He has been injured.

I thought perhaps he could stay here at the waystation

until he can travel.

Señor...

Señor Mendoza!

My house is your house for as long as you want to.

It would be a pleasure, a great pleasure.

Mexican people are very nice people.

Well...

Take care of that shoulder, Juan.

Give it a lot of rest, huh?

Señor, I will never forget this debt to you.

Vaya con Dios.

"Vaya con...?"

Go with God.

That Señor Nadeau is a fine man.

He give me this gold coin just to take care of you.

Yes, he's a fine man.

He's going to build fine buildings.

Well, what about some tequila now?

Sí, sí, patrón.

For the great Vásquez, anything.

Tequila coming up, eh?

That Nadeau is sure hustling.

I hear he got a fat contract with Butler.

Sure.

I got rid of Vásquez and now it's easy.

Butler should have given me that contract.

What's that foreigner ever done for anybody?

Let's get a drink.

Patrón! Patrón!

There is a wagon.

Stop, amigos!

This man is a friend.

Hey!

Come on!

Ya-hoo!

Ya-hoo!

He's dead.

He's dead!

He's a devil I tell ya.

A devil!

We shot him, alright, and his horse bolted in the desert.

How could he survive?

Well, next time we're going to make sure.

We're gonna bring back his body!

I don't know I... I wouldn't wanna try

to dig him out of those mountains.

With a bandit behind every rock?

No!

We've got to do something, Logan.

Maybe there is a more simple way.

Vásquez hates the mines,

because his people are mistreated there.

Maybe if they were paid a decent wage,

he would stop his attacks.

You know, it sounds to me

like you foreigners all think alike

with your hands out.

I came to this this country, because I chose to

and your country accepted me.

You are born here, your country had no choice.

Chávez!

You have such a long face.

Enjoy our friends!

Dance.

Patrón, it's just that I worry still being right here in town.

Oh, come on!

You are like an old woman.

Dance, have some tequila.

The last place they look is under their own noses.

Pepe, some tequila for the old woman.

Gracias.

Dance.

Sí!

Patrón!

Kyle and the men, they are coming!

Andale, hombres!

To the alley!

Get your horses.

We meet at the Black Rock.

Andale muchachos!

The lamp oil!

Consuelo!

Give me some cloth from your dress.

Please!

Perhaps, we can give Señor Kyle a little light to see us by.

Take my word for it, Logan.

I'll run across Vásquez again,

and I when I do, he's a dead man.

Kyle!

I went to go past the Cantina,

and there was a party going on inside.

So what?

Those people even celebrate the birth of a goat.

Sure!

But a man came outside and I recognized him.

Chávez!

That Mexican skinner that used to work for you.

What are you talking about?

He went off with Vásquez over a year a...

Wait a minute!

Ten to one, ten to one,

Vásquez is in that saloon right now!

Let's go get him.

Well, Frenchie, are you coming?

I told you, I do not like guns or killings.

Yeah.

Vamonos, muchachos!

Get your horses!

Ya-hoo!

Ya-hoo!

You don't see him chasing Vásquez.

Yeah, why should he worry?

Vásquez doesn't bother his wagon.

That's right.

Who always gets his ore through?

Nadeau.

Yeah.

And the way he took up for Vásquez,

y'all heard that yourselves.

I say Nadeau's in cahoots with Vásquez

and I know what to do about it.

I think Kyle's right.

He must be.

Come on, got you.

Bring him out.

Come on!

Let's go, Nadeau.

Bring him out here.

Bring him out.

Tiburcio, you should not be here.

It is not safe.

Don't worry, my little one.

My men are safely waiting at the Black Rock.

I will join them after I finish my frijoles.

Uh... I... I don't know Vásquez.

I am innocent.

Consuelo?

Sí, Tiburcio.

Do you know where the Black Rock is?

Sí. Take my horse.

Go get my men.

Quickly!

I don't even know what Vásquez looks like.

Somebody must believe me!

Well, you won't help him no more.

Hands up! Or I shoot!

Vásquez!

First you, Mr. Kyle.

Vásquez?

That man is Mendoza.

The man I... found in the desert.

So that's how he come back.

You helped him.

I told you they were together.

He speaks the truth.

He didn't know who I was.

To him, I was a man wounded, suffering from thirst,

half-dead.

He is a good man.

And you all know this.

He's only one man.

Let's take him.

You are not men.

You are animals without feelings,

who are going to hurt the only one among you

who is really a man.

Señor Nadeau, you better come with us to the hills.

No.

Thank you, but my place is here.

A man who refuses to save his own life.

This is the man you are going to hang.

Nadeau, I guess we...

We were wrong.

Don't think harshly of us.

We are forced to do some things.

Goodbye, my friend.

The debt is paid.

Get after 'em!

Vaya con Dios, Señor Mendoza.

For having helped Vásquez in his time of need,

Rémi Nadeau's life was saved,

and he went on to fulfill his dream

of building roads and the first three-story building

in Los Angeles.

As for Vásquez, he was finally captured.

His cell was kept filled with flowers

by the women in Los Angeles,

until he met the ultimate fate of all bandits,

and another chapter of the growing West was closed.