The Rebel

Johnny Yuma?

You know him?

Do you?

I never laid eyes on him.

She wanted him.

Well, she's gonna have him

'cause I'm gonna find him, kill him, and bury him.

Grave for Johnny Yuma.

All that's missing is him.

Born July 10th, 1847.

How'd you know the date?

Why?

Well, you said you never laid eyes on him before.

I never did, but she knew all about him, my sister.

My name's Wilson.

Simon Wilson.

What's yours?

They call me Reb.

I didn't ask you what they called you.

I asked you what your name was.

Matt.

Matt Berry.

You knew the name Johnny Yuma?

I've heard it.

Would you know him?

I might.

What did he look like?

Well, according to my sister, he was handsome,

curly haired, smiling, a war hero who stood seven feet tall.

Seven feet?

Her knight in shining armor.

That's what she liked to call him.

The way hope would leap into her eyes

every time the stage would come by with the mail.

And the way it would die when there was none for her.

Well, he's gonna die for that.

For that rotten hope.

For the little bit he killed her

every time he stayed away from her.

I'm gonna find him.

Told my sister he had a scar under his heart

from a wound he got during the war.

Well, so he's still in uniform?

No, no.

He's wearing sort of a beat-up old shirt and some dungarees.

Riding a buckskin pony with a double Z brand.

Said he rode in the Third Texas Cavalry.

Third Texas?

Your outfit?

Yeah.

You know him?

Well, I guess I'd recognize him if I saw him.

What are you doing around here anyway?

Well, I'm on my way to Northridge to get a job.

Well, if you want one, you got one.

Doing what?

I'm going out to look for him and I'm gonna find him.

But I can use a man who knows him.

Where would you start?

In his last letter he mentioned a town called Barsfield.

Well, I.

I'll make it worth your while.

All right, I'll ride along with you.

Thanks.

Give me a moment.

Yeah.

He ain't bad lame.

Rest him for a week and he'll be as good as new.

Well, I haven't got a week to waste.

Reb, you want to go pick out a good mount while I settle up?

All right.

Well, in that case,

I'll take him and $20 for any horse in the corral.

Done.

Here.

Simon!

Buckskin.

With a double Z.

Where'd you get this horse?

I bought him couple weeks ago from a young fella,

wanted a stake for a poker game.

Name of Bill Cody.

Bill Cody?

He's got a reputation.

A big reputation.

Rode for the Pony Express.

160 miles in 20 hours without relief.

Is he still in town?

I ain't seen him.

He might be.

Why don't you try the hotel or saloons?

Thanks.

Didn't find him yet?

Not so far.

You know the fella I bought

the buckskin pony from, Bill Cody?

Have you seen him about?

Cody?

He took the stage out of here about four days ago.

Bought a ticket to Letterman.

Just about all he had money for.

That boy sure had a run of bad luck.

How far is Letterman from here?

About 40 miles on the stage road.

Thanks.

You want to cut about 10-12 miles off of that?

There's a shortcut.

Where?

Through Big Rock Canyon.

There's fork in the road about seven miles outside of town

and a stand of cottonwoods.

You take the left fork through the canyon.

Well, let's go, Reb.

Thanks.

Looks like we took the wrong fork.

Maybe.

Wilson!

Reb!

It's Mason.

Ain't no cause for everybody to get hurt, Mr. Wilson!

You just throw out that nice fat money belt you're wearing,

we'll pick it up and go home!

Better do it!

There's no way out, but through this pass!

Guess we didn't take the wrong fork for them.

All right, Mr. Wilson!

Have it your own way!

We can wait a long time!

What are you doing?

I don't care about the money.

I don't care about anything except the life of Johnny Yuma.

They won't let us go whether you throw that out or not.

Now, just hold on!

If I can get through that cave,

maybe I can come up from the rear.

Here, keep 'em busy.

Hold it!

Drop it.

Drop it.

Johnny Yuma.

Simon, I swear I never met your sister.

That letter.

Says you did.

And if you've got a scar under your heart.

Take off your shirt.

Kill me, Yuma.

Kill me while you got the chance,

or I swear on my sister's grave

I'll find you and I'll kill you.

I'm not the man you're looking for, Simon.

You're Johnny Yuma.

Yeah, and I try my hand at writing,

and I've got this scar,

and I fought with the Third Texas Cavalry,

but I never met your sister.

When I got that letter, I didn't know what to make of it,

except that someone was pretending to be me.

That's why I came to the ranch to find out who and what for.

Why didn't you tell me that then?

With my own grave staring me in the face?

Would you've listened to me?

Would you've believed me?

No.

You'll be able to get loose in a couple of hours.

I didn't tie the knots tight.

I'll find you, Yuma.