Skinwalker

Burial ground.

Apache.

What are you doin'?

Redskins, Apache and otherwise tend to entomb

their department with some finery, jewelry and the like.

I think you should leave it alone.

Superstitious, are ya?

I'm headin' off.

You wanna stay, that's fine by me.

Hugo.

That's my name.

I know but, what kinda name is that?

Where you from, anyway?

Two weeks on the trail you finally think to ask me.

Forget it then.

Hunger pains.

Skinny as you are must be hard.

Here, last of the jerky.

Don't fret, be dawn in a few hours.

Should run across something more substantial.

This is what we get for coming back empty-handed.

I wouldn't say empty-handed.

Put that up.

What'd you say?

I said put it up.

Why?

I don't think you should've took it.

White Mountain Apache, maybe.

Navajo.

Not so sure.

Don't matter nohow.

All that counts is I know it fella out in Tunstall

who pays tiptop for all this Injun stuff.

It's wrong misusin' your dead like that.

Why?

Dead ain't got no use for things.

Hugo?

Somethin' bit me.

Rattler, I think.

Yep, got you good.

Ow!

That's disgusting.

Sorry you find this unpleasant.

Make sure you suck out all the poison.

Ain't my first snake bite, Benny.

Give me that hooch.

Does that hurt?

It hurts like moth piss, goddammit.

Easy!

That's our only bottle.

Your concern is quite touching, Benny.

Yeah.

Ahg!

Oh, god.

Ow.

Get some air on it.

Yeah, thanks Mom.

Should be right come mornin'.

Go to sleep, Benny.

Venom runnin' it's course?

Christ, Hugo!

Help me.

Hey, partner, hey.

What the hell is goin' on here?

Elmer.

Hey.

Hell, woman.

That's Mrs. Jackson to you.

Okay.

Reminding me of the overly familiar?

Get up.

Shit.

Elbows.

What?

On the table.

That they are.

You want some breakfast, you'll be movin' 'em.

Fitting to make a proper gentlemen out of me still?

Too late for that, I'm afraid.

But a meager amount of proper manners from you

makes your company more acceptable.

Could be Dalton.

Get out of sight.

Elmer.

Till!

Top of the mornin' to ya, Ms. Jackson.

All that my own two arms can carry.

Come now, that's hardly half a bushel.

Nelly.

Lord above us.

Go!

Hello!

What do you make of this, Marshall?

Place is deserted.

Who goes there?

Better watch where you're pointin' that gun, boy.

I ain't your boy, mister.

I would venture not.

Still, as one law man to another,

I'd ask you to take that gun off my deputy

as they have a way of goin' off.

He puts his away first.

Much obliged to ya.

Ow.

I sure wish you wouldn't shoot me.

But at this point, it might be a mercy killin'.

Damn it all.

What's happened here?

Plague.

Plague?

Yes, plague.

Cholera.

It took half the town, the ones that didn't run.

Name's Marshall Bascom.

Okay.

I have in my custody a one Margaret Jackson,

fugative wife of the outlawed Dalton Jackson.

The one with the bullet in him's Elmer Till.

I need to speak with Sheriff Farnsworth

'cause there's a reward out for both of 'em.

The sheriff died last week.

His deputy, then.

The deputy died two weeks ago.

The young man, James, has taken upon himself

to keep me safe.

What now?

We'll make for Prescott Junction.

That's them mountains, that's hard ridin'.

Of course you could just cut loose to me,

save yourselves the trouble.

I'll lighten the load.

That one ain't worth half a bucket of horse piss.

Wondering when you'd wake up.

How long was I out for?

Few hours at least.

That's a nasty gash you got there.

How'd you tie me up?

I'll ask the questions.

Ask then.

You got blood on your shirt.

Beast or man's?

A bit of both, I guess.

What can you tell me about this?

Rummage through my pockets, did ya?

Passed out on my property.

Kind of figures that gives me a right to do is as I see fit

with a man and anything on his person.

You wanna rob me, fine.

It's all yours in exchange for some water.

You know what this is?

A necklace.

What kinda necklace?

Indian.

An elder death token.

Sacred.

Worn by only the high and finest among them.

That so?

The only thing is, it's never worn by the livin'.

Chiefs and medicine men are buried with 'em.

Truly fascinating.

You're a grave robber.

You're a kidnapper.

Tell me.

Fine.

So I picked up off a dried up redskin.

That a hangin' offense now?

Doesn't cause a pinch of insult to me personally.

But the Indians on the other hand.

I guess they'd be none too happy.

And that there's what makes for concern.

See, I've lives peaceably among these folks,

passin' near 14 years.

Trade with 'em, one or two

I'd go so far as to call friends of a sort.

At least what passes for friends on this mountain.

Happy for ya.

So, hopin' in all that time

I've managed to square away enough goodwill

that if I return this here trinket,

and the one that took it, all go on friendly like before.

What?

No, you can't be serious.

Claire!

I'm leaving our guests in your charge

while I go callin' on Chief Red Feather.

Now just hold up a minute.

Prefer to hand him over less spoiled,

but if he gives you any problems,

I wouldn't have you hesitate.

Understand?

I do.

Good girl.

Hold up!

Mister!

Masie!

Masie!

You got a name?

Yes, ma'am.

Can you tell me?

Riggs.