I don't care to neither.

I remember his horse, Abraham...

with those coal black eyes.

I do remember my mother's face,

watching him as he rode off.

Hard to say as to what actually happened up there in those mining camps.

The story goes, he and his men came up empty...

turned on each other.

People said it was my father who done the killing.

-I hope you find what you're looking for.

-Come on.

Come on.

-(door opens, closes)

-(cries quietly)

-One thing, Wyatt...

I intend on bringing Father back.

Stand that son of a bitch up in front of Mother

and have him explain just why he left.

I can't do that if he's dead.

-He ain't the type of man to be stood up in front of nobody.

-I want Mother to hear it.

-If Jesus himself came down off the cross

and told her the truth, she wouldn't hear it.

-Jesus? What do you know about Jesus?

-Oh, I know plenty.

-I got to try.

-He's a murderer, Samuel.

-Yeah, well, who ain't?

-You wouldn't know nothing about it.

-Just promise me we'll bring him back alive.

-You got my word.

(indistinct chattering)

-What can we do you for, Sheriff?

-A man in Mr. Howell's employ was killed last night,

up in the high country north of here.

Got his throat cut and his gold stole from him.

-Did you figure out who it was that did this?

-She saw the whole thing.

Now she described the assassin.

I was reminded of you, Wyatt.

-I wasn't anywhere near there.

-I'll take a gander in your saddlebags...

if you've no objection.

Well, I...

I wonder if you might have hid the treasure in your house, or your--

-I'll tell you what...

you set one foot on my property and I'll shoot you myself.

-You rest assured, sir,

I'll be keeping close tabs on you...

and yours.

-Samuel: Jesus, Wyatt. Thought he was gonna draw on you.

-He can kiss my ass.

-That old coot's got a gun and a badge and a bug up his ass over you.

-Oh, he just likes to hear himself talk, is all.

-Where did you disappear to last night, anyway?

-Felt the need to dip my wick and have a coke,

not that it's any of your fucking business.

-(knocking on door)

-Right on time.

-Hello.

Allow me to introduce Colonel Rupert Thomas,

veteran of the Indian wars,

instrumental in the campaigns against Red Cloud and the Sioux.

The colonel will be accompanying you, both as guide

and as a representative of the bank.

-That wasn't part of the agreement.

-Oh, as the Colonel is familiar with the territory,

I think you might find him a very valuable asset.

-Asset or not, we had a deal.

-I'm afraid the matter is not open to discussion.

I'm counting on your expertise, Colonel.

-I foresee none but the usual travails, Mr. Howell.

-What do you think?

-I'll tell you what.

Ol' Rupert over there even looks at me crossways,

I'm gonna gut him like a pig and ditch his carcass in the nearest creek.

Hey, Rupert!

You comin'?

One thing. The man that Howell said came back.

You know his name?

-Hawkins. Percival Hawkins.

-Well, I'm going to need to talk to him. You know where we can find him?

-Indeed I do.

-Whoa.

-This is it.

-Wyatt: Anybody in there?

Hey!

-Samuel: Wyatt--

-Wyatt: You mind if we, uh, speak to you for a second, please?

-(Hawkins yelping)

(gunshot echoes)

(Hawkins screaming)

-Hey, slow down there.

Hey, we ain't trying to hurt you.

We're just trying to ask you a couple of questions.

Hey, can you-- Can you hear me?

-(Hawkins moans) -Show him the picture.

-You know this man?

-(Hawkins whimpering)

-I make that to be an affirmative response.

-Come here. Let me see. Here, let me see it.

-(Hawkins wailing)

-Samuel... -Jesus. Oh, Jesus.

-Hands. -Where's his tongue, Wyatt?

-It's ripped out.

It's no ordinary type of evil would turn a mountain of a man like him into mush.

-You think Jebediah was trying to shut him up?

-Hey, look.

Well, if that was the goal...

either by Jebediah's hand or another...

I call this a grand success.

-It's a shame. He's a good-looking bastard.

-Wyatt: You knew he was mute. Why the hell didn't you say something?

-Man lost his boy a few weeks back.

I was leading another expedition.

We ran out of supplies.

Forced to turn back, we ran across him in The Timber, panning.

Tried to warn the poor bastard.

-Hiyah! Come on!

-(tapping)

-The eggs are frozen.

-(horse neighing)

-Sheriff: Whoa.

Morning, Lisa.

I see the boys left you a little shy on wood.

-I can chop some if need be. What can I do for you, Sheriff?

-I want to ask you a couple of questions.

-About?

-Your brother-in-law.

-(horses approaching)

-Maggie.

-Boys.

-You expecting company?

What can I do for you boys?

-We're here to survey the property.

-Oh.

For what purpose, and on whose authority?

-Mr. George Howell of the Dawson City Bank.

-They're foreclosing on the 28th.

-Get the gun.

-(gun cocking)

-(horses neighing)

-God damn it! Get the horses! Samuel, get the horses!

Go!

God damn it!

God damn it!

Come here, girl, come here. Come here. Come here. You all right? Come here.

Okay. All right.

-The horses?

-One got away.

The other's got a broken fetlock, I think.

(spits)

Where are you going?

Jesus Christ, Wyatt. You're a real genius.

-Fuck!

-(whinnying)

(gunshot echoes)

-How are we to continue?

With the wagon gone,

two horses lost!

-You know what? We got one horse left.

Quit your whining. We'll make do.

-The bulk of these supplies was to be delivered to Howell's man York!

What am I supposed to tell him?

-You could tell York to come and fetch it himself!

-Each and every item on this wagon was duly entered into my log!

I am accountable!

-You gonna pull that piece? You gonna stand there like a cunt?

-My employer has entrusted me with a task that I intend to fulfill.

Believe me when I say, sir,

I wish it were otherwise.

We'll continue to the mine as planned.

He's a good man, York. Runs a tight ship.

-(sighs)

Fuck!

-It's the colonel!

-York?

It's Colonel Thomas.

I'm afraid we've lost our wagon and your shipment a few miles south from here.

-Colonel, is it really you?

-Easy. Easy.

-These are the carriers.

-Carriers?

Have you struck a new vein?

-Hey, we ain't going back, you know that, right?

-Wait here.

York!

Is this some kind of a joke?

-Joke?

-Are you all mad?

Has this entire company gone mad?

-Yes! Now you see what I'm up against!

Degenerates, every last one of them.

Scheming. Plotting against me! Let's kill them all!

-(groaning)

-(sighs)

-No gold.

Wyatt: Samuel.

-Whoa. Whoa.

What am I looking at?

-She'll be all right. She's a strong woman.

-I just wonder how she's faring with the baby is all.

Still haven't given him a name yet.

Four months old and no name, is that wrong?

Come on. Come on.

-You know what? Maybe...

you should ask someone who gives a shit.

Which ain't yours truly.

-You son of a bitch.

-(grunting) -(laughing)

Help me up.

Whoo!

-(mutters)

-Samuel: Come on, girl. Come on, girl. You're okay.

-Eat.

-(sighs)

What's The Timber like, Colonel?

-Eventful.

-You ever meet the fella we're going after?

-I'm afraid I've not had that pleasure.

-Wyatt: Pleasure?

I can't say I've experienced much in the way of pleasure in the company of Jebediah.

What about you, Samuel?

Howell tell you that me and Samuel are kin to Jebediah?

He tell you we ain't seen him since we was boys?

-I believe I'll retire for the night, gentlemen.

-Yeah, you do that.

-You been meaning to pick a fight since the moment you laid eyes on him.

-I don't trust that son of a bitch.

You saw what he did to his man York.

-You really think he means us harm?

-Means it or not, if it comes to that, I will cut his fucking throat.

-I just don't think there's a call to take it so personal, Wyatt.

-Well...

if he intends to hurry the reaper,

then by God, I would call that personal.

-Howell: Colonel, just one more thing.

Once Mr. Seagrave is dead...

kill them both.

-(gasps)

(panting)

-You sense it, too.

-What's that?

-Our demise.

-When we was kids, Mother used to quote us Bible verses.

I do remember her saying something about the road to hell

being paved with good intentions.

Now I can't say...

my intentions have always been good.

In fact, I'd venture to say...

I believe I'm going to hell.

I aim to kill Jebediah--

-Wyatt! -(shouting)

-(Wyatt groaning)

(gunshot echoes)

-Samuel: Wyatt!

Wyatt!

Wyatt!

-(screaming)

-Wyatt, cut me down, God damn it!

-You all right?

-I cut my hand.

-(spits)

-This is a nightmare. Where's the horse?

-Ah, she ran off.

-Which way?

-Where are you going?

-We'll never make it back home without a horse.

-We ain't going back home.