Nevada Smith Page #4

- I'm not sure.

- Take a guess.

Best one you can.

Keep that way.

- What's wrong with her?

- Snake bite.

You can't go by her,

she's out of her mind. We're lost.

We're all right. We ain't lost.

We're heading west.

- How do you know?

- I can tell. The sun.

The sun?

What do you think you are,

a lousy Indian or something?

That's right, I'm half lousy Indian,

and my mother was an Indian.

Max...

Max Sand.

I swear I didn't kill them.

I had nothing to do with it.

I was outside minding the horses.

It was that crazy Jesse Coe.

- But he paid for it. Somebody got him.

- Me.

- Who else was with Coe?

- Fitch. Tom Fitch.

Two guys I just fell in with.

I didn't know what they were like.

- Where's Fitch?

- California gold fields, last I heard.

Look, I didn't want to do it. I couldn't

help it. They made me do it with them.

- You scared?

- Yes!

- Like my mother was?

- Give me a chance.

- Don't shoot!

- That's all I ask.

- Like you blew my father's head off?

- You're crazy!

That's why you wanted to escape,

so you could kill him.

What do you plan for me?

- What were they shooting?

- I don't know, but they used five bullets.

If we can't travel in this,

they can't either.

They've got a boat, man,

don't you realize that?

There's nothing I can do to help you,

unless we get out of this swamp

as quick as we can.

I don't know where we are.

Cool air from dry land makes fog.

- You could be out by morning.

- I'll find a doctor or somebody.

You can't stop, you'll get caught.

- Leave me.

- I couldn't do that, Pilar.

I want you to.

You're a dirty, low animal.

You lied to me. You used me to kill.

You're worse than the man you killed.

You don't care about me or anybody.

- You'd kill me, too, if you had to.

- No.

No? You have!

You're not going to die, Pilar, I promise.

- You'd promise anything.

- I won't let you.

What do you think you are, God?

Go away.

Go away! I don't want to die in sin

looking at your face!

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

You been asking' around

for a man by the name of Tom Fitch?

- He's my brother.

- I heard of him.

You did, huh?

A couple of months ago he rode through

here, up to no good. Headed north.

How'd he look?

Mean as you.

The kind somebody's always looking for.

- I hope you keep on looking.

- You do, huh?

Yeah, because then you'll be moving on

as soon as your horse gets shod.

- You will, won't you?

- Most likely.

Most definitely.

- Three kings.

- Tom Fitch...

Heard about a Joe Fitch, worked in

the mine, 300 feet down. He's still there.

Then there was a Carrot Fitch, red hair.

But that was back in Fort Wayne.

No, Tom Fitch doesn't ring a bell.

Any reason why you're tracking him?

He's my brother.

Got a message from home.

- You'll run into him one of these days.

- I hope so.

I'll put the horses in the corral.

- You got some coffee?

- Yeah.

Why are you staring at that?

You've seen it.

- Pretty fancy.

- Made from the dress of an Indian.

- Named Sand?

- Yeah. Yeah!

Well, who would thought a wet-nosed

kid would made a big thing out of it?

It's the Indian in him.

One of the best knife-men I knew was

Jesse Coe. He killed him with a knife.

Then he tracks Bowdre to Louisiana,

gets himself thrown in prison

just to gun him down, then he escaped.

You got a bad case of the shakes, Fitch.

The shakes!

The kid's creepy, he ain't human.

He doesn't kill people, he executes them.

Yeah, he executes them.

Hard job, ain't it, killing time?

I'm working. You just can't see it.

Give me a drink.

- Hell of a way to begin a day, ain't it?

- I ain't crying about it, why should you?

If ever you could, it'd add 20 years

to your life... and maybe somebody else's.

- Morning, Buck.

- Morning.

I thought I told you to get out of town.

I didn't know there was any hurry.

Mr. Fitch, this here

is a hair-trigger. 45 I'm holding.

The slightest jar and it goes off... by

itself. Makes a hole as big as a cannonball.

Now, turn around

and put your hands on the bar.

Put the cuffs on him.

Our job is to keep our ears open

and our mouths shut.

- How are we going to find Fitch?

- He'll find us.

He was spreading bills all over town.

I was first to notice something wrong.

The sheriff nailed him here.

- Hey, can we have three whiskeys?

- Yes, sir.

He wasn't a bad guy, though.

A little hard, but interesting.

What was his name?

Fitch. Tom or Joe Fitch,

something like that, I don't remember.

There you are. Six bits.

Hey, Fitch.

Hey, Fitch, it's Beckwith.

Are you in there?

- I'm here.

- Get ready, we're getting you out.

Hey, that's not Fitch!

- Who the hell are you?

- Tom Fitch.

Try again.

- Now who are you?

- Tom Fitch.

Give him some more.

What is going on here?

Answer me, what's going on here?

- Are you trying to kill this man?

- Let go of that rope.

Not before I find out

what this is all about.

Nobody pulls a gun on a priest.

- Who says so?

- Me, Cipriano say so.

- By the Blessed Virgin, I mean it.

- I believe you. Let's get outta here.

You've never been

in a church before, hmm?

No.

And what do you think of it?

I don't know. It's kind of strange.

Did you ever see Him before?

Yeah, once.

He was on the end of a little silver chain.

He is the Son of God,

who came to earth

to teach men love by example.

He must have missed somebody.

That looks worse than hanging.

- You didn't come to supper.

- I didn't work this afternoon.

You know, Padre, this room

is worse than some jails I've been in.

In a way, we're both prisoners here.

Myself by choice, you by circumstance.

- Son, you...

- Will you quit calling me "son"?

- My father's dead.

- I know, Max.

You'll be here for some weeks.

Use them profitably.

- Arguing with you?

- You might read.

I brought you a book, the Bible.

Men have been reading it

for many centuries.

- What's it about?

- Everything important.

There's only one thing important to me.

Finding and killing a man, eh?

Primitive, hopeless revenge.

- I'll settle for that.

- Why?

There is another half of you

waiting to be discovered.

You also inherited a tradition

of philosophy and conscience.

I don't understand them words.

The difference between right and wrong

and knowing when not to do wrong.

If the civilized half of you

ever wakes up, Max,

with God's help, you could become

a whole man some day.

With God's help my leg will heal before

you can say "amen" and I'll be gone.

Goodnight.

- Padre.

- Come in, come in, Max.

I'm leaving now

and I want to bring back your Bible.

You've had it a long time.

Why don't you keep it?

Well, I remember the things

that matter to me...

...an eye for an eye.

- Which way are you heading?

- I'm going north.

You look well. Healthy, rested, alive!

Quite different

from when I first found you.

Padre, I want to thank you

for what you did for me.

Maybe someday I can pay you back.

Max, please, sit down a moment.

I would like to show you something.

Take a look at that.

Surely a picture can't hurt you.

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