(clicking)
(soft ambient music) (exciting instrumental music) (swooshing)
(soft ambient music) (pulsating ambient music) (solemn instrumental music) (men yell) (tense instrumental music) (explosive booming) (guns bang) - No, no, you keep your
goddamn head down, all right? You hear me? (tense music)
(guns bang) Take out that gunner! Stay here, you don't
move a goddamn muscle! (tense instrumental music) (horse whinnies) (gun bangs)
(horse whinnies) (tense instrumental music) (guns bang)
(tense instrumental music) (solemn instrumental music) (gasping) - Bill. (gasping) Bill, please,
please, don't leave. Please don't leave,
I don't wanna die. (solemn instrumental music) - Goddammit, kid. (gasping)
(solemn instrumental music) - No, Bill, please. Bill, please. Please. Bill. Bill, Bill, don't leave! (solemn instrumental music) (gun clicks) - Wake up, Bill. Come on, wake up! - Please, don't
shoot him, Luther. - Nobody's gonna shoot nobody. We're just here to
take Bill to jail. - Jail? Now, hold on a minute,
I ain't done nothin'. - You sell the horse and
the carriage to Sam here? - Ain't nothin' wrong with
a little commerce, is there? - But did you own that
horse and carriage? - I would if I had
any kinda luck. - Get up and get dressed. And don't try nothin', 'cause I got your gun. - Can I leave? - Let her go. She's a fine woman, highly talented. You may quote me, my dear. - Thank you. I'll come visit ya, Bill. - Go. (tense instrumental music) (gun clicks) (tense instrumental music) Shit! - I need hardly remind
you that I never miss. Your gun, please, and mine. (tense instrumental music) - You think you're gonna
get away with this, Bill? - Sam, open the closet. Get inside. - [Sam] Oh, but, Bill, I'm not really good
in confined spaces. - Sam! Closet or the bullet, come on. (tense instrumental music) You, too, Sheriff. Sorry. - I am not gonna forget this. - I'm sure you won't. (tense instrumental music) Get inside. - I'm comin' for ya, Billy. (slow rhythmic music) (train whistle blows) (soft chattering) - [Conductor] Everyone, please, if you're boarding the train,
you must have a ticket. (soft chattering) I'm gonna need to
see a ticket, ma'am. Sir! (train rumbles) - I'm sorry, your ticket,
or your money to buy one, or your life. - Hickok? - Do I know you? - Corporal Fred Finley. You know, Reb uniforms,
behind Reb lines? - Yeah, yeah, of
course, of course. - [Conductor] Move
out the way, please. Sir, excuse me. - Forgive me, I'm,
I'm desperate. - Tickets, please,
what's goin' on here? - It seems my friend here
has misplaced his wallet. - Yeah, lose it all the time. - [Conductor] Well, I'm still
gonna need a ticket, sir. - Don't worry, I'll
take care of his ticket. (laid-back instrumental music) - [Bill] A whiskey
salesman, huh? - Oh, yeah. Bourbon, rye, brandy, through the whole
Midwest clear to Omaha. - Suits you down to a T, Ted. - You don't remember me, do ya? - What? (chuckles) Don't remember my
favorite corporal? - You remember
Mattie, my cousin? - Well. - I introduced you to her. - Mattie, God. Fred Finley. - Bill Hickok. (laid-back music)
(train chugs) (shouting) (gun bangs) (laid-back country
instrumental music) - Whiskey. - Be two bits. - Okay. (upbeat piano music) You ever had Kentucky Bourbon? - Sir. - Name's Phil Poe, proprietor
of this establishment. - Bill, Bill Hickok. - Wild Bill Hickok? - Been known to go by that name. - Ben, get Mr. Hickok a
bottle of my private stock. Could I interest you in a game? - Much obliged, but I-- - Ah, no buts, no buts. - Well, I can resist
anything but temptation. - (chuckles) Well, we want you
to feel at home, Mr. Hickok. Enjoy your bourbon. And the game. - Appreciate it. - Yeah. (upbeat piano music) - So that's the
famous Wild Bill? - Ah, hell, he don't look
like he got a pot to piss in. - Gentlemen, I seem to have
misplaced my wallet, so, if it's all the same
to you, then, uh, my marker is my word of honor. - House rules. (upbeat piano music) - You callin'? - I'm raising. 20 more. - Wait, hold on, you're
a goddamn cheater. You've been winnin' every
hand all night long. - Now, hold on, son. This happens in poker. Even a blind hog finds
an acorn once in awhile. - [Man Standing] Oh, yeah? Who the hell are you? - Now, there's no need for that. Put the gun down. You just, you have a lot
to learn about poker. I'd be happy to teach you. No, no, no, don't shoot
him, Sam, he's just a boy. (glass shatters)
(gasping) (body thuds) - Idiots. (groans) (upbeat piano music) - Good evening, gentlemen. (upbeat piano music) (gasping)
(water splashes) Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! - What? - Which one's your horse? - Uh, that one. - Much obliged. (clattering) (horse neighs) (slow tense music) Closer to the fire, so
I can see you, please. (slow tense music) What do you want, old man? - You can start by
puttin' that gun away. (slow tense music) Name is George Knox,
mayor of that town. I figured maybe we could
just go somewhere and talk for a while. (solemn instrumental music) It used to be quiet here. A place where people
could raise their youngins without the fear
of a stray bullet. Things ain't so quiet anymore. Now, we could use someone
with your skills to help us get this town back
to that place. How would you like to
be marshal of Abilene? - Why the hell would I wanna
do a crazy thing like that? - The same reason
you just interfered in another man's quarrel and put yourself between
him and a bullet. 'Cause sometimes it takes a
good man to stop bad people. - I ain't a good man. - Son, every man's
got his demons. - How much does the job pay? - A $100 a month. - That's not nearly enough. - 150 and $10 extra for
every man you arrest. - What about each man I shoot? - It ain't blood money. $10 for every man
you arrest, not kill. Now, we got a deal? - Deal. (shot glass thuds) If you don't mind me asking, what happened to
your last marshal? - Resigned. - You mean he was killed? (chuckles) Well, that's gonna cost
you a little extra. Say, a house and
some new clothes? - I think we can handle that. (mellow country music) - Marshal, all right. (exciting country music) - Now, you fine
gentlemen let me know if y'all need
anything else, okay? - Thank you, ma'am. - Thank you, ma'am. - Mm-hmm. - Gentlemen, within a week,
Abilene will be an island in the sea of Texas
cattle and Texas humans. - Will all due respect, Mayor, this is a good Christian
town, a God-fearin' town. - Oh, for God's sakes, get
off your high horse, Jenkins. You and I both know that Abilene can teach Sodom and
Gomorrah a few lessons. But, Knox, hirin' a gunslinger, you think that's the right move? - Damn right it is. - Ooo-whee! You sure are pretty. (Bill chuckles) - Damned if I ain't. - You know, I can't
seem to figure out how I ended up in here,
and you ended up out there. Didn't you steal my horse? (Bill sighs) - Son, I'm gonna give
you a word of advice. You're sittin' at
the poker table, and you can't see who
the idiot is, it's you. I saved your life by
throwin' you in that box. You should be thankful. - Yeah, uh, just what did
ya hit me with, anyway? - Big ol' bottle. Scotch. Damn shame.
(gun bangs) (tense instrumental music) - Bang, got you! - What the hell are you doin'? You followin' me
around with this? - I wanna be a lawman
when I grow up! - A lawman, huh? (chuckles) Why aren't you in school? - Don't you know nothin'? It's Saturday. - Saturday? Well, go on, get outta here. - I want my gun! - No, I'm keepin'
your gun, I like it. - I said I want my
gun, you bastard! (mellow country music) - Hold up your hands,
you son of a bitch! (tense music) I saw what you did
to that poor boy. You've run through your luck. Every breath you
take from now on is a personal present from me. (tense music) - You wouldn't murder a man
without givin' him a fair play, would you? - I'm gonna learn ya a lesson. (chuckles)
(gun clicks) Can ya dance? (gun clicks) (gun bangs) You look awful
pretty in that getup. - Listen, why don't ya calm
down and I'll give you my guns? - Yeah. - [Bill] You like
the sound of that? - Yeah. - Here. (tense instrumental music) (guns bang) Son of a bitch. (tense music) Somebody give me a hand here. - Yeah, I'll take charge here. - Mr. Preacher. - In addition to my holy duties, I'm also the town undertaker. - Well, that's handy, I guess. - We are a God-fearin'
town, Marshal. It's like the Good Book says, waste not, want not. (coughing) (groans) - Sorry to disappoint you. Hoist him up. He's all yours. - [Jenkins] The Good Book
also tells us that all things come to those who wait. (gentle country music) (soft chattering)
(upbeat piano music) (sharp slamming) - You better be careful
shootin' people, Mr. Marshal. Sullivan's a good customer. - Your good customer just
tried to bushwhack me. - [Ben] Sully's harmless. - No one's harmless with a gun and a belly full of liquor. From now on, you be sure you don't serve a
man more than he can handle. - I just take orders, mister. Mr. Poe says the only
question I ask is, can they pay for their drinks? - Welcome. I reckon congratulations
are in order. Ben, pour our new marshal
a drink of the good stuff. - It's all right, Ben. We'll drink this bottle. - Ah, no, no.
- What's the matter? Whiskey's whiskey, ain't it? - Well, I prefer my own brand. - This is your brand. These are all your brands. Unless you're puttin' bad
whiskey into good bottles. Hmm? (upbeat piano music)
(soft chattering) - How much you make a
month, Marshal, 150? That ain't very much. - Things are gonna
change around here. First thing that's
gonna change is this whiskey. (upbeat piano music)
(soft chattering) I have a duty to the
citizens in this town. - Would $50 a month
change your mind? - You know, the second
thing that's gonna change, these cards. I had a sneaking suspicion that people ain't been
gettin' a square deal. - You're a good man, Bill. I spotted that right off. What do ya say a $100 a month? (chuckles) - What kind of a
marshal would I be if I didn't follow
the letter of the law? I reckon 25% of the house
sounds about right, don't it? (soft chattering)
(upbeat piano music) This offer is nonnegotiable. (soft chattering)
(upbeat piano music) - Well, you're a
pragmatist, Bill. That's a quality that
I admire in a man. Luck is a lady, and this one's on the house. - Luck is female, but
she ain't no lady. - When the lights are
out, neither am I. - Hi, Marshal. (moaning) (door clicks) (gun clicks) - How many of 'em are there? - [Woman] Three. - Didn't mean to interrupt. - Ma'am. - Just here to escort
you to Mr. Poe's. - I'll come when
I'm good and ready. - Yes, sir. - [Bill] Get outta here. (gun clicks) Close the door! (soft chattering) - Like my new hotel? It's nice, huh? (gentle orchestral music) - Bang!
(groans) - You again, you
little scoundrel. - [Poe] Joey. - Fine boy you have here. - Get outta here, Joey. - Go on. - That young hellion
takes after his mother. - Ah? - I'm afraid she's
overindulged the boy. Let me introduce you. Gentlemen, this is our new
marshal Mr. Bill Hickok. - How do you do? - I, uh, hope that we can
continue our discussion. Scenery's better
over there, isn't it? - Ah, yeah, well. - Excuse me, ladies, I'd like to introduce
our new lawman to ya. And this beautiful
creature is my betrothed, Miss Mattie Lyles. (gentle orchestral music) - Well, ladies, most honored to make
your acquaintances. I hope that you come to
see me as a protector and a friend in days to come. Please feel free to
call upon me anytime. (gentle orchestral music) Excuse me. (gentle orchestral music) - Hi, darlin'. (gentle orchestral music)
(soft chattering) (insects chirp)
(tense instrumental music) (gun clicks)
(footsteps tap) (tense instrumental music) (sharp smacking) (tense instrumental music) - Ow. Okay, can't say I
didn't deserve that. - I've been waitin'
10 years to do that. You're a son of a bitch. - [Bill] What? - You took off and
never came back. You could've written
at least once. - Come on, I went
to war, Mattie. What did you expect? I was dodging bullets,
left, right, and center. I didn't know where
I was gonna live from one day to another. - Why am I not surprised? (tense instrumental music) - It's good to see you. - How much? - How much what? - I know you, Bill, $200 and you forget
you ever knew me. - Now, hold on. I gain nothin' by telling
your Mr. Poe anything. I'm pleased to see you so happy. - 300 for your silence
and not a cent more. - Now, you're
hurtin' my feelings. - When I was young and foolish, I thought you were dashing and gallant, but now I see you for
what you really are. You're a liar. You're a live-for-today
hedonist with no ambition. - That's not true. (slow instrumental music) - And you only have
one particular skill. (gentle instrumental music) Killin' people. (solemn instrumental music) (carriage rattles) - Stop here. - Whoa. - Give us a moment, Jerry. What you frettin' about, Mattie? - (sighs) I just
don't understand how they can make a
man like that marshal. I just wish you'd use your
influence on the town council, get rid of Hickok. - Was he in the army
with your husband? - No. I don't know him. I just know his type. He only cares about four things, shootin', drinkin',
and gamblin', and you can guess the last. - I suppose I can
guess the last. Don't you worry your pretty
head about it any longer. I'll take care of it. Let's go, Jerry. (snoring) - Sullivan! Rise and shine. Time to go home. - I am at home. - Then go to work. - I am at work. I'm the jailer. - Well, that's handy. - What about me? You know I have a farm
that needs plowin'. - I'm gonna give you
some more advice, son. Drinking, gambling,
and shootin', they don't mix, speaking
from personal experience. Best you stay there till
you've learned your lesson. - I'll need money then. - Money? What for? - For breakfast. You need to feed the prisoner. (gentle rhythmic country music) (clears throat) - On the other hand, if as a result of my advice to take alcohol
only in moderation and to never pull a
gun at the poker table, you promise not to do it
again, then I'll let you go, but I'm keeping your gun. - You can't keep my gun. (gentle rhythmic country music) You can't keep my gun, please. - Sullivan, let that idiot out. (slow rhythmic country music) (door thuds) - May I help you, Marshal? - Yes, yes, of course, I, I would like to buy a hat. - What kind of hat? - Well, a lady's hat, but I
don't know much about 'em, so I'd appreciate
any suggestions you
might have, Mattie. - You presume familiarity. - Oh. - You may call me,
Mrs. Lyles, sir. - Mrs. Lyles. You know, that name
sounds familiar. I swear I've heard
it somewhere before. - Here. Take it. It's on the house. Take it and leave. - No. No, no, no, I, I
insist on paying. You know, this is a nice
place you have here, Mrs. Poe. - I know what you're thinkin'. And, yes, Philip did set
me up in this little shop, and, yes, I am
going to marry him, so please just take your
hat and get out of here. (somber instrumental music) - I bought that hat
for you, Mattie. (door squeaks) (door thuds) (somber instrumental music) (gun bangs)
(groaning) (tense instrumental music) - Howdy, Bill. What? This shit kicker
drew on me first. Look, I'm tellin' you
it was a fair fight. He got what was comin' to him. (tense instrumental music) - You just killed an
unarmed boy, Slade. (tense instrumental music) (chuckles) (gun bangs)
(tense music) (crowd gasps)
- [Woman] Oh my God! (tense instrumental music) - You take care of him,
all right, Preacher? - Oh, don't you worry about
that one little bit, Marshal. I'll make sure he gets a
first-class sendoff. (chuckles) - I'm talkin' about the boy. (somber instrumental music) - Okay. (crow caws) - Well, I'm gonna
have to raise, boys. (upbeat piano music) (thuds) Goddamn, Hickok! - I believe this belongs to you. - Looks to me like he
belongs to the devil now. (men chuckle) - You ordered this
piece of horseshit to shoot the sodbuster. - Now why would I do that? I didn't have no
quarrel with the man. He didn't pull his gun on me. Slade had this comin' anyway. Goon! Come get this piece
of shit off my pot. Have a seat, Hickok, and
I'll take your money. (exciting rhythmic
country music) (yelling) (guns bang) - God, they never stop. (tense instrumental music) (guns bang) (coughs) (guns bang)
(tense music) - Joey! (guns bang)
(shouting) Joey! (tense music)
(guns bang) - Texas boys are here. (tense instrumental music) - Don't get yourself killed now! (guns bang)
(shouting) (glass shatters) (guns bang) (groaning) (shouting)
(guns bang) - Oh, God Almighty. - [Bill] Doc!
(banging) - Hold your horses. I'm comin'. (groans) Oh boy. - Ah, yeah.
- Okay, put him on. - [Bill] Yeah, he
caught a bullet. - Where's the bullet? - It's in his leg. - Okay. Now, son, ah, God. (groans) Okay, son, now, we're gonna have to pull
the bullet out right away to stop the bleeding, okay? So you gotta be brave. I can't give you
anything to go to sleep. You're just gonna have
to gut it out, okay? You know what, we
could give him a shot. Okay? - Whiskey? Really? - Yeah. Oh, forget it, come on. You look really tough. You'll be brave,
be a good soldier. Okay? Just count to 40, okay? One, two. - One, two, three. - We're not goin' anywhere. Grab his foot, hold his foot. Let's see. - Okay, Joey, listen, I
want you to listen to me. I want you to listen
to me real careful. Look at me, look at me. Why don't I tell you
about the time that I was scoutin' for my friend General
Custer in the Black Hills. I was far in advance
of the column, okay? And I found myself
cutoff by Cheyennes, the most bloodthirsty savages you ever had the
displeasure to meet. Now, I managed to slip past
'em, and they chased me into a dead-end canyon with a little narrow
passageway leadin' in, and I knew that they
could only come through one man at a time, so I decided to make
my stand there, okay? So I turn around, and I'm ready, but they disappear. Silence. And bang! Gunfire starts. And you know who pops
his head through? A little ol'
Confederate boy, okay? He's movin' so slow, I put a bullet right between
his, right between his eyes, and, uh, his friends, they clamber over the top
of him to come through. And I drop another
one and another one. (somber music) And this, I'm outta bullets then, okay? So I draw my knife, and I
back up against the far wall. By that time, they're
crowdin' around me. - What happened next? - Well, what could I do? I was outgunned and outnumbered, out of ammo. I only had my knife. - So what'd ya do? (somber instrumental music) - I pissed my pants, Doc. (chuckling) (gentle instrumental music) (yelling) (groaning) (Doc sighs) (bullet thuds)
(Joey whimpers) - Now bandage. You're doin' good. (Joey whimpers) Just stay this quiet
in here as you can. I tell ya one thing, guns are good for business. (chuckles) (door clicks) (footsteps thud) - [Bill] George. - Can I help ya, son? (Bill sighs) - I'm guessin' you
heard about young Joey. It ain't right that a grown
boy can't horse around without risking a bullet. - And you're gonna tell me how
to keep that from happenin'? (Bill sighs) "The carrying of firearms
within city limits "is strictly prohibited." - No guns at all. You leave 'em at camp,
or ya check 'em into the marshal's office
on the way into town. - You sure about this, son? Some folks ain't gonna
be too happy about this. - Yeah, well, they'll just have
to live with it. (sighs) (solemn instrumental music) (soft chattering) - Boss, you know boys
can't belly up to the bar if they're cuffed hand and
foot to the marshal's desk. (solemn instrumental music) - Now where am I gonna sleep? (tense instrumental music) - Bill, I want you to know I'm a 100% in favor of
what you're tryin' to do. 100% in principle, but I think we need
to be practical here. This ain't the only town
they can drive cattle to. - My mind's made up, okay? There's no changin' it. And that goes for you, too. (tense instrumental music) - Do I need to remind
you of our arrangement? (tense instrumental music) - Ben, put a goddamn
cork in that bottle and sit it on its
side facing me. (tense instrumental music) I see a lot of you
sons of bitches violatin' the no-guns ordinance. So I'm gonna explain
it to you real simple by uncorking that bottle there. (tense instrumental music) (gun bangs) (tense instrumental music) Anyone else beside me do that? If not, kindly head to the bar. Give your guns to
Ben for safekeeping. (tense instrumental music) - I'd like to give it
a try, Mr. Marshal. (tense instrumental music) - Put another cork
in the bottle, Ben. - Spin it. (tense instrumental music) (gun bangs)
(glass shatters) Whoo. - What do they call you, son? - Hardin, John Wesley Hardin. - [Bill] You born somewhere? - [John] Most likely somewhere. - You best get
back to somewhere. - Oh, I don't know,
I kinda like it here. Think I'll stay for a while. - I recognize you now. You're not a John Wesley
Hardin, you're Wesley Clemmons. Folks call you Little Arkansas. - That's a new one,
Little Arkansas. - You know, you might
almost be as fast as me. Ben, pour Arkansas
a drink on me. Rest of you, keep givin'
your guns to the bartender. Sully will pick 'em up later. (solemn instrumental music) (sighs) (tense instrumental music) - Can I do somethin' for you? - Yeah, Mayor, you
can do somethin' about that young marshal of yours. Boy's runnin' all of my
customers out of town. - Now, listen to me,
you son of a bitch. Ain't no one stoppin' them
boys from drinkin' the swill you call whiskey. - Now, you listen to me. If it weren't for my businesses, you wouldn't have
no goddamn town. You'd just blow
away in the dust. Ain't right messin'
with a man's livelihood. And I'd hate to see
your young marshal meet with some
unhealthy accident while he's performing
his duties. - I stand by my decision. Now get your ass
off my property. Before I put a bullet in you. (tense instrumental music) - I say we teach this
Yankee dandy a lesson. - Ride out to camp,
pick up the spare guns. - And a strong rope. - Invite Wild Bill to
a little necktie party. (tense instrumental music) - Good afternoon. Can I help you? - We don't much like
your new ordinances. - Yeah, we don't much like you. (tense instrumental music) - Is that so? - That's so. We reckon it's time you
leave Abilene for good. (tense instrumental music) - The next person to
move, I cut in half. (gun bangs) (tense instrumental music) You boys put your tails
between your legs, and you get outta here. Get. (tense instrumental music) - Yeah, we'll be
seein' you real soon. (tense instrumental music) - [Man] You take
care now, Yankee. (tense instrumental music) (footsteps tap) - Hi, darlin', how was your day? - It was all right, Mattie. How was yours? - It was good. - I see ya found 'em. The pearls. - Oh, uh, I must've taken
'em off when I was cleanin'. - Well, you should
be more careful. (tense instrumental music) Allow me. (tense instrumental music) There, back where they belong. (fake shooting) Now what are you so
excited about, son? - You should've seen him! Wild Bill took on a 100 men! He's one tough fella. - A 100 men, you say? Hmm. (solemn instrumental music) (footsteps crunch) (creaking) (gentle instrumental music) (gun clicks) - Don't move a muscle. - You used to like
it when I moved. (gun clicks) (gentle instrumental music) I don't know if you're
aware of it, but you're a hero in Joey's eyes. (gentle instrumental music) Do me a favor. Tell 'em not to be like you. (gentle instrumental music) - I'll walk you home. (gentle instrumental music) Why? Who are you tryin' to protect? Me or Poe?
(gun bangs) (dramatic music) You stay down. (tense music) (gun bangs) (tense instrumental music) (gun bangs) Goddammit. (tense instrumental music) (soft chattering) - Give me two. - Mr. Hardin, you're
pretty fast with a gun. - So I've been told. - From what I saw, you
may be the fastest. You may be the best. I'm gonna take two. What are you gonna do if Wild
Bill asks you for your guns? - Well, he ain't asked yet. - These drovers,
all from the south, Texas mostly, and they don't much
cotton to Yankee lawmen. I'm just sayin' if somethin'
was to happen to Wild Bill, we'd need a new marshal. - You want me to kill
Wild Bill for nothin'? - You never get
somethin' for nothin'. No, there's a reward, $500 reward. - Isn't that ironic. A bounty on a lawman. - You in? - If you're so anxious
to see Wild Bill dead, why don't ya kill him yourself? - If you want
somethin' done right, you oughta hire the best. - You know, somethin'
tells me, Poe, you're not an honest man. (tense instrumental music) - Let's just say, I
ain't easy to beat. - It's time to fish or cut bait. Somethin's gotta be done
about Little Arkansas. The son of a bitch is wearin'
his guns in plain view. - You can harness a mule, but you teach a horse to run. - Let's, uh, make this drink
for long nights of no rest. - Little Arkansas, I'm callin' you out. I'll be in the street waitin'. - Well, sorry about
that rude interruption. Save the last dance for me. (tense instrumental music) (gun clicks) (tense instrumental music) - Drop your guns or I'm gonna arrest you. - You want my guns? Okay. Take 'em. - What you lack in sense, you certainly make
up for in gumption. Don't you know anythin'? I invented the
road agent's spin. (guns click) - I didn't know you
were that old, Marshal. - Well, it's a funny thing. Older I get, the more I learn. - Well, if you'd like
to keep learnin', I'd holster that
pistol of yours. - Notice my hammer tied back? If something should happen
to cause my thumb to slip, you will catch a bullet
right between your eyes. - Well, I can't see what
good it's gonna do me to surrender my guns, if you're just gonna go ahead
and shoot me in the back the second I turn and walk away. - You have been
misinformed, sir. I never shoot a man in the back. (tense instrumental music) How 'bout a compromise? What do you say to a drink? (guns click) - I say all right. (slow rhythmic
instrumental music) You know, there's a rumor
going around about you, says that you were a
Yankee spy during the war. - It was a stupid war. - Well, you know the only way you're
gonna get these guns off me, Marshal, is if ya kill me. - I'm considerin' it. If I let you loose, pretty soon every
bowlegged son of a bitch is gonna be wearin'
his guns, too. I can't allow that. - I understand your problem. I do. It's just I ain't ready
to leave town yet, and I sure as hell ain't
takin' these guns off. - You remind me of someone. - Well, he sounds handsome, who? - It's not important. The point is, you got potential. You just might do. - Do what? You want me to be a lawman? - Pay is a $100 a month, a lot more than a drover makes. What do ya say, Little Arkansas? - Well, I say Poe offered me
$500 for just one day of work. - There's two ways you're
leavin' this office wearin' those guns of yours, feet first, or wearin' that badge. (tense instrumental music) - Can I ask you
somethin', Marshal? - Mm-hmm. - Why do you call me Arkansas? - 'Cause if you were
John Wesley Hardin, we'd have to hang you. - Arkansas it is. - I usually take a different
route on these patrols, keep the bushwhackers guessin'. - Why the shotgun? Seems to me a rifle would
be a little more accurate. - Well, this here's what I
call preventative medicine. Sawed-off filled
with blue whistles is a mighty fine deterrent. - Well, I've never had to
shoot twice at the same man. (chuckles) - There's somethin' you gotta
learn about gunfightin'. - Oh, yeah, what's that? - No matter how fast you are,
there's always someone faster. The more you use your gun, the sooner you're gonna
run into that man. (gun bangs) (slow rhythmic music) - I reckon I still got some
time before I meet that man. (Bill sighs) - Last chance, hand
'em over, Arkansas. - Come get it, Marshal! - [Both] Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang! (slow guitar strumming) - You wanna come upstairs? - Not tonight, darlin'. Much obliged. - Consider it done. (tense instrumental music) (gun clicks) - There's a lot of vagrancy
in this part of town. Keep your eyes skinned. The lawman has no friends
and few sympathizers. A momentary benevolence
can prove fatal. I don't intend to die of
an excess of benevolence. - Well, I don't think you got-- (guns bang)
(tense music) - You see him? - See him, I got him. You can't see him? - Yeah, yeah, I can see him. (tense instrumental music) - [Arkansas] You
know this dandy here? - [Bill] Yeah, I know him. - Well, we're lucky he's about
as accurate a shooter as you. (tense instrumental music) - You just killed
an old man, Marshal. Time for you to meet your maker. (gun bangs)
(yelling) (tense instrumental music) (guns bang)
(tense instrumental music) - I'll see you in hell, Hickok! (guns bang)
(tense instrumental music) - I wanna help the
Marshal patrol! Ow! - I want you to stay
away from Wild Bill. You are not to see or
speak to that man again. You hear me? Do you hear me? - Whenever I look into
a light of any kind, it's edged with halos,
bright as January sun dogs. - Well, ya have a film over your eyes, and it'll be all
right for a while, but in five years. - In five years what? (solemn music) - Total blindness. (solemn music) I can't help you, but you can help yourself. You're at a point where
you can make a decision, and you must make a decision. You can take the path of a
boy, reckless and careless and stupid, or you can take a higher road and become a man. - Become a man by plowin' fields, huh? Is that what you're suggesting? - Look, Bill, get an
easier profession, start leading a
different kind of a life. - This is all I've been
good at my whole life, Doc. What am I gonna do? - You cannot ignore this, Bill. You must not ignore it,
'cause it isn't gonna go away. - All right. I'd appreciate it if you kept
this information to yourself. - You're a patient. I'm a doctor. Strictly confidential. (solemn instrumental music) - This stays confidential, or your wife's gonna
end up a widow, Doc. (solemn instrumental music) I'm serious, Doc. I seen you with the drinking. When you drink, you talk. - You wear a badge. I'm a doctor. It's strictly
confidential, trust me. I took an oath. - Okay, well you
remember your oath, and you keep your mouth shut. Thanks for the good news. (door clicks) (tense instrumental music) - I got somethin' I
want you all to do. I want you all to spread the
word that that son of a bitch is moon-blind. He can't see in
the goddamn dark. Hello, Fred. - Mr. Poe. - Moon-blind. Can ya handle that? - Yeah, boss. We got that. - [Poe] Go on. How are you, Fred? - Very good, sir. Name your poison. - Well, I'll have, uh, a
barrel of the Old Kentuckian, and then, uh, half-dozen
barrels of the usual. - One Old Kentuckian and just,
just a half-dozen barrels? - Half dozen, Fred. - Say, Mr. Poe, uh, did a Bill Hickok come
through here recently? They call him, uh, Wild Bill. - Name sounds familiar. - Well, Hickok was acquainted
to a relative of mine, uh, a Miss Mattie Silks. She was engaged to some
fancy fella, if I remember. - Mr. Poe's also engaged, but the Lady's name is
Lyles, Mattie Lyles. - Lyles? Well, that was
Mattie's mother's name. (tense music)
Hmm. Thank you, Mr. Poe. (tense instrumental music) (knocking) (tense instrumental music) - What do you want? - Well, I, I brought a present for the boy. A walking stick, useful
for getting around. Also, useful against
bloodthirsty savages. - Wow, thanks! - You're welcome. And for the lady of the
house, fresh-cut flowers, all the way from Kansas City. - Joey, give it
back, it's dangerous. - Ah, Mom.
- Now! - Yes, ma'am. - Tend to your chores. - Do as your mother says, boy. - Yes, sir. - Your flowers are also
unwelcome and a mistake. - You're the one makin'
a mistake, Mattie. You can't marry that man. I'm begging you. - Well, it's my mistake, and it ain't my
first one either. - As I recall, I was
your first mistake. - I'm not proud of that, or the life I led, but that
all ended once I had Joey. - I still care for you, Mattie. I know you care for me. (slow instrumental music) - You need to leave. Poe will be here soon. Whatever shortcomin's
he may have, he's punctual. - What about last night? - It never happened. (slow instrumental music) - Mattie. (slow instrumental music) (door thuds) (footsteps tap) - Sit down. Had a long talk with an
old friend of yours today. Fred Finley. So, tell me, Miss Lyles, or is it Miss Silks, how exactly did your
husband get killed? What battle? - Little Round Top. (sharp thudding)
(yells) - No more lies! (sharp smacking)
(grunts) - You bastard. - That's the only
bastard around here, and I raised him as my own. (tense instrumental music) You know what, Mattie? I'll give you a job
at the Bull's Head. I can always use another
good whore down there. (tense instrumental music) - Come, baby.
- I'm sorry, Mom. - It's okay, it's okay. - [Joey] I'm sorry he hit you. (tense instrumental music) - I didn't know you were
the Prince of Pistoleers. - I better not find
out this came from you. - You're crowdin' me, Bill. And I don't like to be crowded. - I don't like to be lied to. You lyin' to me? - No. - Good. (door slams) (knocking) - Can I help you, son? - I think my demons have
finally caught up with me. (slow guitar strumming) - Every man has demons, son. (door clicks) (slow tense music) A man's demons though quiet are never quite silent. (tense instrumental music) She was my light, the thing that kept
the demons in the dark. (groaning) - I'm, I'm sorry. - Only God can forgive you
now, you son of a bitch. (gun bangs) (somber instrumental music) No one can run forever, son. You quit, you surrender, they'll dog your heels
till the day you die. But not if you face it. (sighs) Now ask yourself which
you'd rather live with. (slow instrumental music) (horse hooves thud) (tense exciting
instrumental music) (sighs) - I'm sorry. - Where is he? - Please don't. Please. - Let's go, we have to go. Get your things. (guns bang)
(dramatic music) Keep your heads down! (guns bang)
(dramatic music) (yelling) (guns bang)
(dramatic music) (sizzling) (guns bang)
(dramatic music) (booming) (tense instrumental music) - [Man] We must've got him. (coughing) (slow tense music)
(crows caw) (soft chattering) (tense instrumental music) - Guns are not allowed
in town no more. - That ain't no law anymore. (tense instrumental music) There's a new lawman in town. (tense instrumental music) (soft chattering) - Tickets, please. Tickets, please. - Listen, when you
get to Wichita, you seek out a man
named Earp, okay? He's a good man. He'll take care of you. - [Conductor] Tickets, please. - Come with us, Bill. (somber music) - You know I can't. I have to finish this, Mattie. I've been runnin'
my entire life. - You're still runnin'. It's time for you to
hang up your guns. If you stay, we can't wait for you. (somber instrumental music) - I'll wait for you, Wild Bill. (somber instrumental music) - You do as your
mother says, boy. - I know why you're goin' back. You're goin' back
'cause you're a hero. - No, son. I'm gonna back
'cause I'm a coward. Sometimes it takes more
courage to walk away. You be a man, take care of your
mother for me, okay? - Tickets, please. - You got me, sir. (somber instrumental music) - He's my hero. (somber instrumental music) - He's your daddy. (somber instrumental music) (tense instrumental music) - You ain't gonna try
to stop me, are ya? - No. Reckon you'll want this. (tense instrumental music) (soft chattering) - Poe! (tense instrumental music) - Wouldn't shoot me in the
back, would ya, Hickok? (tense instrumental music) Guess not. (tense instrumental music) $500 to the man that
kills Wild Bill. (tense instrumental music) (gun bangs)
(groans) (guns bang)
(tense instrumental music) (groans) (guns bang)
(glass shatters) (exciting tense
instrumental music) (gun bangs) (tense instrumental music) (footsteps thud) (tense instrumental music) (floor creaks) (gun bangs) (gun clicks) (gun bangs) (sharp smacking)
(groaning) (tense instrumental music) - I'll show you wild, Hickok. (clattering) Wild Bill, my ass! (groans) I'll show ya wild! (groaning) You're not so wild, Hickok! (thudding)
(groans) Yeah, you piece of shit! (groans) Goddammit. (tense instrumental music)
(groaning) (gun bangs)
(groans) (gun clicks)
(tense music) (gun bangs) (gasping) (coughing) (gasping)
(solemn music) - [Bill] I'm done running. (gentle instrumental music) (lush rhythmic music) (solemn orchestral music) (tense orchestral music)
