Ambush at Dark Canyon (Dark Canyon) (Ambush at Dark Canyon)

You know I gotta bring you in.

You're gonna have to kill me first.

Yeah, I know.

Do it.

I can't.

Do it.

Careful how you look at me, now, stranger

You ain't rolled the trail that I've been on

Until you taste the dirt and smell the danger

You don't know the hell that's made me strong

The devil stole my woman down in Tucson

And a biscuit down in Juarez became my only friend

Spurred my horse before... cut the noose off

And rode off in the sunset once again

And I ride high

In the saddle

But my heart has hit me like the setting sun

I never had to run and hide with my old friend here by my side

But you can't kill a memory with a gun

Oh, crap!

Oh, wake up, little darling

Open them eyes

All those birds out singin' outside

Get up, little darling

Throw on them shoes

How are you, Edward?

Two S's in Mississippi, Amos.

- Mind your own business. - I'm just trying to help.

- You're late. - Oh, yeah.

You're looking fine as cream gravy, Eleanor.

You're looking spiffy yourself, Jesse.

- Had a long night. Overslept. - You didn't.

Haddie Randolph. She's a real bear-cat.

Haddie Randolph? Jesse, how in the hell do you do this?

You know, sometimes I wonder myself.

You know what?

You're gonna have a lot more time to wonder about that, because chief...

he's in a real mood today. And when he finds you?

Helms!

Helms!

- Amos. - Jesse.

Close the door behind you.

Please. Have a seat.

Sure.

Why are you here?

Well, you... called me in, remember?

- I'm not in the mood for this. - So I was a little late.

Work starts at 7:00 a.m. sharp. Do you have any idea what time it is?

- I understand, sir. - This is a business, son.

A well-oiled machine. If one cog in the wheel is not working, then it all falls apart.

Do you see what I'm trying to say to you?

That I'm a cog, sir?

I should've fired your ass long ago, when I had the chance.

Trouble is, you do a bang-up job.

When you're here. Hence my dilemma.

How to let you go without being the bad guy.

Or how to let you stay without appearing weak.

- Come again, sir? - I have this little pet project of mine.

More of a passion, really.

I stumbled on this about five years ago when I took over the chief's job.

Arizona, 1892.

Bank robbery gone wrong. Six people dead.

They called it the mid-day massacre. September 23rd, 1892.

Four men, led by an ill-tempered outlaw named Levi Hardin, walked into a bank.

In the small boom-town of Young Country, Arizona.

When the smoke cleared, six people were dead, including a five-year-old girl.

Traveling photographer happened to be passing through town that day.

- Frank Sheldon. - Sheldon?

- The one that started the Gazette. - That's right.

And what was supposed to be a series of rudimentary shots

to test a camera he'd invented ended up capturing

one of the only live bank robberies ever caught on film.

No, men, stand down! Stand down! Don't shoot! Don't shoot!

Don't you... I'll fucking kill her! Hey, I'll kill her, Duke!

- Hardin, don't you hurt her! - I know you don't want that.

No!

No!

Come on!

It gained national attention,

what with the vicious nature of the crime an the...

high-profiled individuals involved.

One in particular, a well-respected U.S. marshal named Duke Donovan.

That him?

Some say he was the ringleader.

So the man people were supposed to trust ended up betraying them.

Doesn't end there.

Donovan and Hardin escaped free and clear that day.

But a posse caught up to them later.

This one's alive.

So Hardin double-crossed Donovan and took the money.

On the contrary, it's all right there with Donovan.

Donovan claimed that he was trying to stop them,

but Hardin was holding a woman hostage outside of town.

He said he was gonna kill her if Donovan didn't aid in the robbery.

So Donovan said he went along with it, until the last second.

- There was no sign of a mysterious woman. - And Hardin?

Donovan claimed he shot him in the head before he blacked out.

Never found the body.

Well, what happened next?

I don't know if it was his 20 years of service to the law,

or the fact that Donovan claimed he never fired a shot during the robbery, but...

something put doubts in the minds of the jury.

That's a hangin' offense,

but they sentenced him to life in the Yuma territorial prison.

He lasted there six weeks before escaping.

He was killed two days later by a young deputy.

- Sounds like quite a story. - Oh, it is.

I had to uncover a lot of rocks to find this much.

- But what do you think? - I'm not sure.

But I'm gonna let you help me form that opinion.

- How's that? - By getting an interview

with the last man alive who knows what really happened.

His name is Seymour Redfield.

Some people think his real name is Tom Sullivan.

The young deputy that killed Donovan that day.

When Sullivan brought Donovan's body back to town, he disappeared.

- Was never heard from again. - Why don't you just talk to this man?

Well...

Let's just say we don't see eye to eye and leave it at that.

Only interview I never got.

What makes you think he'll wanna talk to me?

Because you have more motivation than I do. Your job's on the line.

Get the story.

Or...

Hello?

Hello?

Hello? Mr. Redfield?

Jeez.

That's a .45 long Colt.

Its many admirers referred to it as the peacemaker.

- Mr. Redfield? - Depends on who's asking.

I'm Jesse Helms, from the Gazette.

I was hoping I could talk to you.

I'd've thought you people'd take the hint by now.

I didn't mean to intrude, sir. Knocked on the door, and it fell open.

You know, I could've blown your goddamn head off.

And I'd've been well within my rights.

But, since I just saved your life,

why don't you have a drink with me?

No thank you, sir. I'm on the clock.

Whose clock? Not my clock.

Well, in that case, a small one, sir.

Why don't you rest your butt? Make yourself comfortable.

Thank you, sir.

You know, my...

Chief said that you didn't like to talk too much.

Your chief? You mean Morgan Heinz?

Well, pay no attention to Morgan Heinz. He's nothing but a damned old blowhard.

Only thing he's interested in...

is a good scandal so as he can sell more sheets of that rag he puts out.

Heinz said that if I didn't talk to you, then I'd be out of a job.

Well, that's too bad.

However, I hear the pig farm down the road is hiring.

You know, sir, I don't wanna waste any more of your time.

I'll see myself out.

I inherited this gun...

from Duke Donovan the day he died.

Marshal Duke Donovan?

The very one.

Was that the gun he used in the robbery?

Is that why Heinz sent you here? Talk about Duke Donovan?

Well, yes, sir. It is.

Well...

I suppose if you're looking for the truth...

that's where it all began.

With Donovan.

By 1892,

some say the legend of Duke Donovan had begun to eclipse the man.

He never had any children.

On account of their getting married later in life.

Just a wife he loved fiercely.

But their passion for each other more than made up for it.

Their love was constant.

Through thick and thin, she stood by him.

Has the jury reached their verdict?

We have, your honor.

We, the above entitled jury do hereby find Duke Donovan guilty on all counts.

Order! Order in the court! Order!

Now, the punishment for such a crime is to hang by the neck until dead.

However... in light of your many years of community service,

and your impeccable service record,

the court has decided to grant you a reprieve.

Therefore, you are hereby sentenced to life imprisonment

at Yuma territorial prison.

Where you shall do hard labor for the rest of your life,

without the possibility of parole.

This court's adjourned. Take him away.

Duke came to Yuma prison in the spring of 1893.

His arrival was the talk of the place.

He had as many enemies in Yuma as he did admirers.

He'd put half of them in there.

He was a quiet, deliberate man.

And those eyes...

no one ever forgot those eyes.

All hands at attention!

Warden's on the floor!

I'd like to take a moment to...

personally welcome you all to Yuma.

I believe...

you'll find your stay here to be a tough,