Deadwood

man: hold it, now keep The tension on it, boys!

got to pull It to the left.

that's it!

Wash-ee.

Eat-ee.

His dog Them eat-ee too.

Or, eat-ee him yourself, You leering heathen.

Is this for me?

Brought it for you.

Get out.

Pointed the gun At him!

Boom, shot him Right there!

That's the guy Over there.

Him and wild bill got The guy right in the eye.

You touch that Hotel's kitchen, seth?

I'll meet you.

men like mr. Seth bullock There raise their camp up.

Yeah, fella to be Put in that box

Might argue with you, Reverend.

Mr. Bullock Did not draw first.

And I point to his Commissioning me

To build the departed A coffin

And see to his Christian burial.

Well, any idea Of the departed's name?

In his effects I found a Letter addressed to tom mason.

Well, I know A tom mason.

But that feller keeping cool In the creek, that ain't him.

Which, having prayed, I decided to open.

the sender, mrs. Walter Mason writes,

"i've asked your brother ned To bear this to you."

From which I conclude The departed's name is ned.

Ned mason, huh?

Perhaps the tom mason you Know is the dead man's brother?

if he is in camp He should be notified.

No, I ain't Seen tom around.

Coffee!

Morning, al.

I'd like someone To tell me what in fuck

Is going forward In this camp?

Tim driscoll's Checked out.

I can tell you That much.

- left your hotel, has he? - moved to wu's pigsty.

- what was that shootout About? - at sun-up?

- yeah, fucking sun-up! - far as I heard, al,

Hickok and one of them Hardware guys you're renting to,

Threw down on the fella Brought word in

Of that squarehead Family's massacre.

Suspected he was In on the kill.

What's it to hickok or That hardware guy either

How them squareheads Come to die?

I couldn't agree With you more.

If you don't stop dragging That fucking leg...

Coffee?

I might have One cup.

Did you know one Squarehead lived?

Little squarehead girl. They took her to the doc's.

- what condition? - I don't know, al.

If she was to live,

Wouldn't she have A story to tell?

Wake up.

- how's that little one? - she's still among us.

I'm asking you what Her prospects are?

If her wounds Don't fester,

She might can have A fighting chance.

Good.

None of that To him.

Oh, he's all right.

Not a word.

- morning. - morning, bullock.

I was wondering How that child fared.

Iffy. Touch and go.

I'm not optimistic.

Has she spoken?

She's not conscious.

Be surprised If she ever is.

I'd like to hear Whichever way it goes.

If you see bill hickok,

or that sore asshole, Charlie utter,

Could you tell him I looked to the stock?

Sure, i'll let him know.

You're wrong Not to trust him.

He formed a party that Found that little one

Among all the dead Of her family.

Didn't he?

And didn't he also shoot a man He suspected in the murders?

And if I were To confide in him

would he circulate my optimism? I mean, wouldn't he say,

"when the little one speaks, You'll see I was right.

Not the sioux killed her Family, but road agents"?

And supposing It was road agents,

And they hear his talk,

Where's the little one Stand then?

You got a dark Turn of mind.

I see as much misery outta them Moving to justify theirselves

As them that set out To do harm.

Charlie: same dead roach In the same damn biscuit.

He stuck to His position.

- morning. - morning, montana.

Yeah.

- joe? - much obliged.

- your friend asked me to say she's looked to your stock. - thanks.

She's back now watching Over that child we found.

Far as her chances, The doc's not optimistic.

From the look of him,

Think that doc's been wrong Once or twice in his life?

Maybe once Or twice.

We'll likely be by Your tent later.

Get bill here outfitted With some prospecting gear.

Yes, sir.

Don't do that, Charlie.

- do what? - trumpet my intentions.

Herd me like A damn steer.

Ain't you here To prospect gold?

If you're just gonna gamble, Bill, let's get it set.

I'll arrange appearance Money for you.

That ain't gambling. It's shilling for the house.

It's getting you a regular Damn source of income.

So's this don't Wind up like cheyenne.

What offer should we make At the purchase of that lot?

Barber next to us paid 600 For his lot 10 days ago.

- seller's market. - mm-hmm.

I'd say we're well bought at 750, we don't go past 1,000.

Uh, may i, um, Join you?

Well, mr. Bullock,

After the events Of last night,

For an ink-stained Wretch like myself

Finding you And mr. Hickok here

In the same dining room Is luck indeed.

I don't want to talk about Last night's events.

All right, Fair enough.

I now pocket My notebook, sir.

The same wretched Biscuits.

Mrs. Garret.

I hoped you Slept well.

As it happens, I did not.

I'm very sorry. Do You require the doctor?

Yes. Please.

Certainly, ma'am, Of course.

Sorry you're Poorly again.

That is mrs. Alma garret.

Whose husband, I'm told,

standing at the bar At swearengen's saloon

purchased a gold claim Last night for $20,000.

We rent our lot From al swearengen.

I'm not surprised To hear it.

Tim driscoll, The claim's seller,

Lives here In this hotel.

He, uh...

Must be sleeping in.

Do you mind?

Morning, boys!

- good morning! - ellsworth.

Name's ellsworth.

I hear you bought These digs.

Brom garret, How do you do?

My claim's Next one over.

I see.

You cleaning up Any yellow?

Day's young!

How are things Running at your claim?

Made my quota for whiskey, Pussy and food.

Then you best get on down To the gem, ellsworth.

Further efforts'll only Benefit the faro dealers.

This exact spot showed a fistful Of nuggets two nights ago.

Well, don't weaken, Pilgrim.

Nuggets are nothing.

She's usually gonna Show you some flake.

Thanks for The encouraging words.

She hasn't even Showed me any flake.

Oh, hell.

johnny: "well, I doubt That, reverend," I say,

"the tom mason I know Is nowhere near here."

But what I was thinking

Is damned if al didn't Center shoot the bull's-eye.

It wasn't sioux Killed them squareheads.

But it was Persimmon phil,

Tom mason and that croaker Headed for his coffin.

Who's probably some fuck-up Younger brother of tom's named ned.

Listen to me, Go get doc cochran.

And I never tipped The thumper to none of it, al.

Played it dumb As a pile of rocks.

Go get the doc. Say I want Him to see to the whores.

All right, al.

'Scuse me, fella.

Mr. Swearengen.

Yeah, that's right.

- sol star. - seth bullock.

Rent on lot four.

Lot four?

The hardware boys, Hmm?

Here, I wanna buy you Fellas a drink.

How's business On that lot?

Hell of a spot, Isn't it?

any more foot traffic you'd Have to call it a riot.

Now, i'm turning Back slow.

Nothing in hand But this whiskey bottle.

I heard you're not a man i Want mistaking my intentions.

Who says that? I'd like To ask 'em what they mean.

- a fella drew on seth this morning. - never heard different.

No one mistook His intentions.