Hickok

- No, no, you keep your goddamn head down, all right?

You hear me?

Take out that gunner!

Stay here, you don't move a goddamn muscle!

Bill.

Bill, please, please, don't leave.

Please don't leave, I don't wanna die.

Goddammit, kid.

No, bill, please.

Bill, please.

Please.

Bill.

Bill, bill, don't leave!

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.

Shit!

- I need hardly remind you that I never miss.

Your gun, please, and mine.

- You think you're gonna get away with this, bill?

Sam, open the closet.

Get inside.

Oh, but, bill,

I'm not really good in confined spaces.

Sam!

Closet or the bullet, come on.

You, too, sheriff.

Sorry.

I am not gonna forget this.

I'm sure you won't.

Get inside.

I'm comin' for ya, Billy.

Everyone, please,

if you're boarding the train, you must have a ticket.

I'm gonna need to see a ticket, ma'am.

Sir!

- 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.

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.

- Well, I'm still gonna need a ticket, sir.

- Don't worry, I'll take care of his ticket.

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?

Don't remember my favorite corporal?

- You remember Mattie, my cousin?

Well.

I introduced you to her.

Mattie, god.

Fred Finley.

Bill Hickok.

Whiskey.

Be two bits.

Okay.

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.

- Well, we want you to feel at home, Mr. Hickok.

Enjoy your bourbon.

And the game.

Appreciate it.

Yeah.

- 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.

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.

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.

Idiots.

Good evening, gentlemen.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!

What?

Which one's your horse?

Uh, that one.

Much obliged.

Closer to the fire, so I can see you, please.

What do you want, old man?

- You can start by puttin' that gun away.

Name is George Knox, mayor of that town.

I figured maybe we could just go somewhere and talk

for a while.

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.

If you don't mind me asking,

what happened to your last marshal?

Resigned.

You mean he was killed?

Well, that's gonna cost you a little extra.

Say, a house and some new clothes?

I think we can handle that.

Marshal, all right.

- 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.

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?

- 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.

Bang, got you!