Purgatory Page #3

What can I do for you?

We's just looking.

Please, look.

Right.

Sure got a lot of stuff here

for being so far from anywhere.

Yes, we have the latest of everything.

- Hey, you got any dime novels?

- No, I'm sorry...

...but we do carry all the classics.

You might want to check out

the classics, son.

Get a whole lot more out of them

than you would those dime novels.

I never had much use for reading

myself before I came here.

Now I find that I...

What's the matter, son?

Do I have a smudge of flour on my face?

No, I'm sorry.

Did anyone ever say that you

kind of look like Jesse James?

Well, now that you mention it,

a man in Tulsa once said that to me.

Why, did you...? Did you know Jesse?

Well, no, but I read quite a bit about him,

and I saw some likenesses.

Although, I think he was

a little bit taller than you are.

Yeah, that's what the man

in Tulsa said too.

Nice shop you got here.

Thank you. Thank you.

I'm rather proud of it.

Like I said, we just looking.

Of course.

Thank you, sir.

Help yourself, boys.

This town's easy picking.

You didn't get away

as clean as you thought.

So what?

I don't see no bold moves

being made our way.

I don't think they got an ounce

of bold between the bunch of them.

I'm sick and tired of acting polite.

Tell the boys they can have

their way with this town.

I like to watch that Danny ride,

I'll tell you what.

Get our people off the street.

Your men seem to have

a lot of time on their hands.

Yeah, what of it?

Maybe they'd like to split some wood.

Sort of earn their keep.

Earn their keep?

Yeah, it seems

like a reasonable suggestion.

- I'll split some wood. Heck, it's the least...

- You ain't chopping nothing, boy.

Anything else, sheriff?

Yes, please ask your men

to slow down these horses...

...and stop throwing knives

at our church.

Why don't you tell them?

I doubt they'd listen to me.

Then you got yourself a problem, sheriff.

Yes, it appears I do.

You miserable little bastard, I ought

to pistol-whip you. You listening?

Get us some whiskey. Go on.

- You owe me another 5.

- There's a barn out at the edge of town.

You can take your knife-throwing there.

No, that's too far to walk.

What if I set a plank up

in the middle of the street?

We're doing just fine right here.

I am asking you nicely to stop

throwing knives at our church.

Now, I'm asking you to stop.

This ought to be interesting.

Five bucks says you can't put

it right in the windpipe.

That sheriff is either lucky or...

Or what?

Let's go inside and drink.

Go on! Go on!

Go on!

Come on! Come on!

Come on!

Whoa! Whoa!

Where are we?

There's nothing to be afraid of.

Come inside.

- All right, folks.

- Forrest?

I got a message for you.

It's time you packed your grip, son.

Come noon Sunday, you're going home.

Go on!

Come on!

Don't you just feel joyful?

Why, I see you got a saloon.

Yep, but you can't go in there.

One step through those doors,

and it's all over.

- Seems like a lot of damn rules.

- No cursing either.

You came in last night

on a stagecoach, right?

This is no concern of yours.

I wanna know how she

can be alive and breathing...

...when I saw her dead in Sweetwater.

- Maybe you were thinking of someone else.

- No. She died in my arms.

The first person I ever saw got killed.

I ain't likely to be mistaken about that.

Do you deny it? You're Dolly Sloan,

harlot with a heart.

Dolly Sloan?

Oh, you mean the lady gambler? Yeah.

I've been told I look a lot like her.

Sorry, young man, but my name is...

- Ivy.

- I know what I saw.

What about that stage that disappeared

into thin air last night?

- Please, just let it be.

- I can't.

You have to, Sonny.

Now, if you'll excuse us,

we're showing Ivy the town.

Good day.

Holliday, draw!

That's a pretty dangerous game

you're playing there.

You gonna deny you're Doc Holliday?

A man sneaks up on you

and calls you out, you're gonna react.

I don't care if they call you

Mary, Queen of Scots.

Don't think I don't know

what's going on here.

Suppose you tell me.

Well, somehow, I don't have

that whole thing figured out...

...but y'all ain't dead the way

people think.

This town some sort of hole-in-the-wall

for famous outlaws looking to retire.

You don't say.

You're damn right, I do.

See, Forrest, he's Wild Bill Hickok, and that

deputy of his looks just like Billy the Kid.

How about the guy who owns

the general store there?

- Brooks?

- Yeah, Brooks.

If he ain't Jesse James,

I'll eat my hat.

Except I always thought Jesse was taller.

And then there's that farmer.

He looks just like Lefty Slade.

And what famous outlaw is Rose?

I don't know.

She ain't in any of my books, but...

What don't make sense to me is...

...if you are all those people,

why y'all eating Blackjack's crow?

You could handle him easy.

Blackjack? You mean Mr. Smith?

So that's Blackjack Britton?

I've heard of him. He cut

a real wide swath through Missouri.

What's a farm kid like you

doing riding with the likes of him?

I wasn't supposed to let on.

You're not gonna tell...?

- You're not gonna tell Forrest, are you?

- Forrest isn't as dumb as you think.

I suggest that you reflect real hard

on your situation, Sonny.

A few bad choices

and a man can lose his soul.

Morning.

Morning there, young fella.

You seen Rose?

No. Haven't seen her.

You're Lefty, aren't you?

- Lefty?

- Lefty Slade.

Excuse me?

You were killed in Tombstone. Three shots

to the chest and one to the left wrist.

My name's Lamb.

Yeah, then what's that?

- I killed men for less than that.

- I know.

Cyrus Beaudry in Dodge

and Peewee Winters...

...when he laughed at your shoeshine.

- It wasn't over any shoeshine.

It's in The Blazing Gun of Lefty Slade.

That fool writer never even talked to me.

Besides, I got nothing to say to you.

Hey!

Hey! Get out of there!

That's my garden!

Get out of my garden!

Get out of there!

You son of a...

Lamb? Lamb, what have you done?

Eight years.

I thought I was beyond it, but...

- I'm so sorry, Lamb.

- Me too.

Blackjack Britton!

- How'd you know?

- That's not important.

You're no longer welcome in Refuge.

Collect your men and ride out.

Sheriff?

You know what you need?

You need yourself a good

old-fashioned pistol-whipping.

Come on, boss, bring him down.

- Come on, Blackjack.

- Glen, no! No. No.

To hell with this.

Blow him away, Blackjack.

Nobody will do nothing.

The whole town is full of cowards.

What the hell is that?

I want every man jack

in the saloon, right now.

Hey, not you.

Drink up, boys. Come sunup,

we're gonna ride back into that desert...

...and head south for Chihuahua.

- What about supplies?

Take whatever the hell you can carry.

Anybody makes a fuss, kill them.

Except for that little girlfriend of my

nephew's. Y'all just leave her to me.

Y'all know where Rose is?

Rose.

- Sonny.

- I gotta talk to you.

You can come on out.

I promise I won't look.

You can turn around.

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