Conagher Page #2

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the band concerts and dances.

The only time we see anybody | is when the stage passes through.

But I love it here.

You don't know what music is | until you hear the wind in the cedars.

Someday, I'm going to get on a horse | and ride over there...

until I can see the other side.

If there is another side.

Where is your husband?

I think he's gone.

He left to buy cattle | over three months ago...

and that's just too long with no word.

I suppose there's always a chance, but...

No.

He's gone.

- What's the matter, Sis? | - Nothing. Leave me alone.

Ruthie?

He's not dead. He's not. | My daddy's not dead.

It's been too long.

We would have had word by now | or he would have been home.

He can't be dead. You don't know.

No, I don't know...

but I feel it.

- I feel it in my bones. | - What does that mean?

You remember how you felt | when your mama died?

Kind of lost and empty?

I felt that same way | when my own daddy died.

I feel it now.

But he can't be gone.

I'll never see him again.

I didn't even get to say goodbye.

It's just us now.

I love you.

What's wrong?

I saw an Indian...

over there in the junipers.

Oh, God.

Laban, Ruthie, come here!

- Let's go in. | - Don't be so bossy.

Ruth, come now!

Let me go! Put me down!

- What's wrong, Ma? | - Indians.

Laban, they mustn't know we're afraid.

All right, Ma.

What is it that you want?

Grub. You give us grub.

I'm sorry. I have none to spare.

You give us grub. We take horses. | We take cow.

We don't want trouble!

You mustn't come here like this!

Go!

Tell that man to leave the horses alone!

You got one, Ma.

Killed him for sure. | Another one's bleeding something awful.

God, I forgot all about the stage.

God.

I'm all right, ma'am. How's Joe?

- We could move him to the table. | - Better not. He might be gut shot.

I've got hot water on the hearth | and I've got bandages.

- I don't know much about wounds. | - I do. I've seen a good many.

Been to a lot of shooting towns.

Hurry, ma'am!

Thank God you got a sod roof.

We have to move that coach. | They'll burn it and the cabin.

- It's stone. | - Makes no difference.

They'll burn the door down | and shoot through the hole.

One of the horses is down.

Cut him loose, man. Here. Take this.

Good work, Evans.

Much obliged, Mrs. Teale. | You saved my life, for sure.

That moon's gonna light this place up | like high noon, ma'am.

He don't look too good.

That's 'cause he's dead.

Will they stay and fight, Mr. Evans?

I figure they'll pull out.

I figure they'll pick up their dead...

maybe try for the horses. | Then they're likely to go.

They'll go, all right.

They ain't out to win no medals.

Thank you.

Are you all right?

Where are you headed?

West.

Maybe San Francisco.

You're lucky. | You got a real nice family here.

There's a rustler's brand, if I ever saw one.

Damn cold out there.

Too cold.

Makes a man wonder what he did | with his summer wages.

Don't know anybody around here | who's looking for a hand, do you?

- Well, there's a... | - Can't say I do.

Mister, I'm in a swapping mood.

I need a box of.44 cartridges | and some beans and coffee.

What do you have to swap?

I usually do | a cash-on-the-barrelhead business.

It'll stand cleaning.

Unusual for a man to want to swap rifles.

They belonged to a pair of Apaches | that jumped me up in the Mogollons.

There was three of them.

Had quite a go around | for a couple of minutes.

Three Apaches?

You're lucky you got your hair.

You said there was three | of them Apaches, mister?

Yeah.

How come you're only swapping | with two rifles?

'Cause I only killed two of them.

Wounded the third, | but he made it to cover.

Well, did you go in after him | and hunt him down?

Mister, nobody but a fool would | go into the rocks after a wounded Apache.

I'll swap.

I'll give you a couple of dollars...

and throw in an extra box of.44s...

for them you used up in the fight.

Most Apaches around here is good people.

It's them south-of-the-border Apaches | that give us trouble.

They attacked a stage station | down the line where that woman runs it.

Teale?

- They didn't kill her? | - No.

She made up quite a fight.

She and them youngsters.

Then the stage came in all bloodied up...

but amongst them they fought them off.

Might as well sit down | and have some coffee.

You ain't going far tonight.

Thanks. I'll move on.

Mind if I ask your name?

Name's Conagher.

You should have got here | a mite earlier, Smoke.

Yeah? How's that?

That rider that just left...

called himself Conagher.

I'll see if it's him.

Hold it, Staples.

I mean to kill that son of a b*tch.

Do your killing on your own time.

Come on, let's get drunk.

Come on.

How are you sod busters doing?

Sod busters?

Laban, would you bring us | some more water?

You riding the grub line | or looking for a job?

A job, if I can get it.

A meal, if I can't.

You got any sand?

I won't have any man a riding for me...

who's gonna turn and run for town | the first time he sees a pony track.

I've fought Indians. Rustlers, too.

I don't think much of town anyway.

Well, supper will be on the table | in about a half an hour.

You got time to wash up | and stow your belongings.

Now, in this outfit I furnish the horses | and ammunition.

I allow no fighting among my hands...

and any time you can't stand up | to the work...

I'll give you two days' grub | and a head start.

- Does that sound fair? | - Yes, sir.

Look what the cat dragged in.

The old man hire you?

Hell, somebody's got to do the work.

Now I can see why he was so anxious | to get a good man.

What happened to your job | with the stage line?

Well, you know me, Conn.

Never did much like sitting | at one place too long...

doing the same thing every day.

So you quit a good town job | so you could ride line this time of year?

It's the pay.

- Pay's better here. | - Yeah, sure it is.

Anything strike you peculiar | about this setup?

What do you mean "peculiar"?

Hiring men this time of year.

Usually the old hands hang around | for the winter months.

Let's eat.

Feed's real good. You never ate such grub.

The old man found some chef | got throwed out of some hotel back east.

Damn good food.

Men can't work well on poor feed.

If old Johnny were here, | he'd be licking these plates clean.

McGivern?

Yeah. He rode in with me.

You'll see him out there tomorrow | on your swing.

Good.

Conagher, I might as well tell you now.

Two of my hands just up and quit...

just before Mahler and McGivern rode in.

Do you share any range | with the Ladder Five?

What do you know about the Ladder Five?

I saw a couple of their hands | over at Horse Springs station.

None of them was too friendly.

We've had no trouble with them yet.

I'd never seen them before. | Never expect to again.

I just come here hunting a riding job.

I wouldn't say any more about the Five...

if I was you.

No need letting the old man | get his wind up.

None of my affair.

I just want a place to sit out the winter.

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