The Magnificent Seven

Billy.

Say your prayers, son.

Behind you, Vin.

On your left.

Hold on there, cowboy. Whoo!

Now, you just stay inside like I told you, Miss Millie.

Right over here. Come on now.

- Get up. - Rise, sinner.

- Get up. - Peaceably now.

Come on now.

Move it.

You picked the wrong town to mess with.

- Get on. - Get over there.

Get up.

Hey. Get up. Get.

Hiding behind a woman. What kind of man are you?

Get on. Get on.

Murdering pack of thieves. Rode into the wrong town, didn't you?

You boys are looking at a stiff neck and a short drop.

- Easy there, sergeant. - They killed my driver and left me to die.

They stole my artillery wagon.

Where's my artillery wagon, you bastards?

Loaded wagon should be easy tracking.

You volunteering?

You paying?

Five dollars.

You'll get your wagon back, then.

I'll get a unit together and haul these dogs away for you.

What did they do to my store?

Coach coming in.

Chris.

- Chris. Chris. - Billy, wait.

Chris.

You all right?

- Grandpa. - Billy, my boy.

- Grandpa. - How are you, huh?

Judge. We weren't expecting you.

I got a trial in Watsonville. I gotta leave in a couple of hours.

Billy boy, you're growing so fast.

- What the hell happened here? - It's all been taken care of, judge.

- Billy, how's school going? - Gentlemen.

I'll have your guns, please.

Who the hell is this?

Federal Marshal Walter Bryce.

He's the new law in town.

You better be prepared to fight. That's the way you're gonna get them.

If it comes to that, so be it.

You don't want it to.

Without us, you got no backup.

Except the good Lord...

and he's got lousy aim.

You must be the defrocked priest.

I know about you. All of you.

And I know about your arrangement with the judge.

Well, then I guess you know what you can do with your policy.

I know this all seems rather abrupt, but I'm a reasonable man.

I'm going to give you 24 hours to comply.

After which...

you leave town, check your guns, or go to jail.

Well, how very reasonable.

In the meantime, if you'll excuse me...

I have work to do.

You care to explain this to us, judge?

Railroad's pressuring folks back in Washington.

They're gonna start laying some tracks through here...

- and they want it to be safe. - We're already safe.

The cattle ranchers are on the run. We got settlers coming in all the time.

I already told them all that.

But the railroads want to ensure that they have badge out here.

Someone official.

Lot of good "official" will do when all those bullets start flying.

Marshal's been doing things his way for years.

Got a rock-solid reputation for cleaning out rough towns...

- back in Kansas. - This ain't Kansas.

Time was when I could have stopped it. With the railroads pulling the all strings...

And I might add, a mess like this isn't gonna help you any.

I gotta catch that stagecoach if I wanna have time...

to have a visit with my grandson.

Nothing more I can do. I'm sorry.

Judge, you pay us to protect this town.

How you expect us to do it without guns?

I don't.

You're relieved of your duties, as of now.

Well, we're not gonna take this, are we?

Where did Chris go?

It seems Marshal Bryce is here to stay.

Yeah.

I suppose a town can never have too many peacekeepers.

Why do I get the feeling our new marshal doesn't agree with you?

Well, Bryce may not want you here, but the people of this town do.

All right, not everybody, but...

I've been here long enough as it is.

So, what will you do now?

I got some unfinished business I've been putting off.

Take care of that.

Billy will miss you.

Mary?

Would you say goodbye for me?

Yeah.

So, Nathan...

are you staying?

I'm all this town's got in the way of a doctor.

May be no more guns, but there's still other ways for people to get hurt.

Good. Good. That's good. That's really good.

Buck. Hey, Buck, you thinking about sticking around?

You couldn't drag me out with an eight-horse team.

You're gonna go head-to-head with Bryce on this gun thing?

J. D., do you see that little filly sitting in the corner, over there?

Now, that is the only person I plan...

- on going head-to-head with. - You've been working on Millie...

- for three months. - Exactly. And in a few minutes...

all that hard work is gonna pay off.

- Buck's staying. - Hey.

Vin, Ezra, you sticking around?

As for myself, I'm a few well-played poker games away...

from owning this saloon.

And with no guns in town, there shall be fewer ways...

for disgruntled losers to seek reprisal.

There's always tar and feathers.

Vin, how about you?

Well, I figure it's a matter of time...

before that marshal finds my name on a wanted poster.

Tell him you were framed.

It's about time you cleared that up.

I aim to, kid. Right after I track down the sergeant's artillery wagon.

Artillery wagon?

Well, maybe I'll go with you.

I don't believe he invited you, son.

Well, J.D. what oracle of wisdom has our new marshal revealed?

"By order of the marshal, a curfew shall be enforced at 11 p.m...

after which time there shall be no loitering, no imbibing of alcohol...

no gambling. Effective immediately."

"No spitting, no open fires, no open liquor bottles."

It's about time.

No seven men to watch over us.

And I say, good riddance. We're moving into a modern age.

What do we need with a bunch of gunslingers?

Some show this morning, J.D.

Of course, your riding got a little clumsy.

You gonna start in on that "I'm better than you" junk?

Because I ain't in the mood.

So it's true?

You seven are breaking up?

We are not breaking up, all right? We're just...

Just doing something different for a while.

What are you gonna do?

Me?

Hell, I could always find work as a hired gun.

There's plenty of that around. But I'm thinking about heading off to Texas.

Join the Rangers.

So you wanna leave?

So you wanna stay?

I didn't say that either.

Because if you do, there's plenty of stuff you can do around here.

There is? Like what?

Well, you can get a job.

- A job? - Yeah.

Me? No.

No one cares if you go or stay anyway.

This day just keeps getting worse.

Aw.

Hold still, Juanita.

Hold that bottle up. There you go.

Yeah.

Yeah.

- Mr. James. - Guy Royal.

Hell, last time you set foot on my ranch, you were trying to buy it.

It still ain't for sale.

Might be soon, if you can't get your cattle to market.

Don't count me out. I always get them through.

Yeah, but how many homesteads and fences you gotta ride around?

And how much meat's left on their bones once you get there?

How much good grazing land you got left to fatten them up in the first place?

Who the hell is he?

This here's Earl. He's a new hire.

What he means to say is that town's growing...

and the number of settlers is growing with it.

- Time we put our foot down. - We?

Us ranchers start working together instead of against each other...

well, that might be a damn powerful force.

Turn that place into a ghost town.

No town, no settlers, no fences.

Once that railroad starts coming through...

we might get control over some valuable land.

That town's got those seven men watching over it.

Hell, you went up against them once. So did I.

Except I ain't in a hurry to do it again.

I guess you hadn't heard.

Can I help you?

I hear you're the doctor in town.

No, I just heal folks best I can, but I ain't no doctor.

That's exactly what I wish to discuss.

I've been doing this a long time, and I've seen a lot of snake oil...

- sold off the back of wagons... - Snake oil?

You call sewing up gunshot wounds and setting broken bones snake oil?

No. I call it practicing medicine without a license.

And from this point on, you're out of business.

I mean, I just had one and my, my.

You are a delicate flower, Miss Millie...

and some old smoky saloon is no place for you.