Rio Lobo Page #2

- It's all quiet out there, Sergeant.

- Let's hope it stays that way, Captain.

You'd better leave that bandage alone,

unless you want to start bleeding again.

- How do you feel?

- I hurt.

- You hit your head on a rock.

- I feel like a fool lettin' you take me.

I would, too.

You haven't got a bad leg.

That bandage fooled me.

Bide over there loaned it to me.

It's real blood, too, Colonel.

Made by a Yankee bullet.

- Who knocked me off my horse?

- Tuscarora, here.

I hurt a little, too, Colonel.

You're a big man.

You're the outfit

that's been taking our gold shipments.

- That's the fourth lot you've grabbed.

- The South needs money, Colonel.

I know you from someplace, don't I?

- You do.

- What's your name?

Pierre Cordona.

French mother, Mexican father.

From New Orleans.

Four or five years ago in Abilene.

- That's right.

- Something about a horse, wasn't it?

- Big bay horse. You stole it.

- The hell I did. I won it.

- You won a sorrel.

- The sorrel was lame.

When you play poker, you should know

what you are playing for.

I remember.

We were both on that big bay.

I was in front and you were behind

with a gun in my back.

- Your friends wanted to shoot me.

- I wasn't happy about it.

Colonel, I'd feel better

if you'd stay away from those rifles.

Neither one of us got hurt.

Tell me, what am I doin' in this rig?

Well, Colonel, you used me

and now I'm going to use you.

This time you'll be in front

and get us out of here.

If we run into any Yanks,

you'll be between us and them.

- You'll get shot first.

- I don't know where all our units are.

If you don't know,

you better guess pretty good.

I would start doing

a little thinking before we leave.

- When are we leaving?

- As soon as it's dark.

- Do you have to tie my hands?

- Captain's orders.

Colonel, I'll be riding right behind you.

I can throw this knife pretty good.

- And it makes no noise.

- I hear you.

Douse that light.

Them in the back, too.

Get ready to move out.

Captain!

- What is it, Corporal?

- Which direction is he taking us?

South. I can't see the stars,

but we should be headin' south.

You're wrong. Which side of a tree

does moss grow on?

- The north side.

- The moss is on this side.

Right now we're goin' north.

Sure. We're goin' north.

Half of Sheridan's army

is south of here.

The only way we can go is around 'em.

I don't know if I can get you through,

but it's your idea, Captain,

and you're stuck with it.

You better not be trying something,

Colonel. You might be sorry for it.

Lead on.

Hold it, Colonel.

We're getting near water

and I smell smoke.

- Take a look, Sergeant.

- Better keep an eye on the Yank.

- What do you think, Colonel?

- I can't keep track of every outfit.

Might be some of your Johnny Rebs.

- They're Yanks. A cavalry outfit.

- That'll be the 10th Ohio.

- They were 20 miles away yesterday.

- You're on track of where you are.

- I try to, Sergeant.

- Can we go by them?

- Better ask the Yank here.

- Best to go right by them, east.

Pass the word.

We're near a Yankee camp.

Keep your horses quiet.

Use your hands if you have to.

- How do I do that with mine tied?

- Cut him loose.

- You be mighty careful, Colonel.

- I will.

Go ahead. Slow.

See anything, Colonel?

Rebs on your flank. Look alive!

Get over here.

Every man for himself.

Separate and ride south.

We'll meet back by the bridge.

Don't lose that gold.

O'Brien, you and...

Don't get nervous, Sergeant.

Just drop that pistol.

Keep movin'.

Your Captain's over by that log.

- What happened to him, Colonel?

- He hit his head.

He's all right.

Wake him up.

- What's in that canteen, Sergeant?

- Corn liquor.

I could use a little of that myself.

Better be quiet.

Your Captain's in the wrong uniform,

remember?

Well, Captain, how do you feel?

Back in the cave you said

you felt like a fool. Now I do.

I thought you gave in a little too easy.

When we was goin' north to get away,

we was just goin' into trouble.

- You wanted that gold bad.

- Not as bad as I wanted you two.

Somebody in my outfit

had to be giving you information.

- I want him.

- And you want us to tell you.

Tell me and I'll cut you loose

and turn my back...

The two of you will have

a good chance of getting away.

Otherwise... you're a prisoner

in the wrong uniform.

- You know what that can get you!

- Yeah, I know.

And our boys lose all chance

of gettin' more gold.

The war isn't over yet, Colonel.

All right. Over here!

- Captain. Hold up!

- Over here!

Captain! Just got this.

Damn! All this for nothing!

Give him a blanket, corporal.

Next man. You got boots and shoes?

- Chills and fever?

- No, sir.

- Any cramps?

- No.

You will, when you have

that pork. Drink this.

- Next man.

- Name, rank, unit.

Bide, lance corporal.

Tupelo Fusiliers.

It was a small outfit, getting smaller.

Last I heard, I was all of it.

Length of internment, eight months.

Give that to the paymaster. Next.

- You were right.

- I thought he'd be here.

Cordona, Pierre. Captain.

1 st Louisiana Cavalry.

You'll get two dollars, Captain.

Sign here.

- You're entitled to your sword, Captain.

- Could I have a pistol?

- No firearms.

- Never mind about the sword.

Phillips, Tuscarora. Sergeant.

1 st Louisiana Cavalry.

- Pierre and Tuscarora.

- You've got a good memory.

Glad you weathered the storm.

It's the simple life -

no wine, no women, no song.

- And no whisky.

- I can remedy that.

You don't mind

drinking with a Blue Belly?

- I'd drink with the devil himself.

- I feel just like he does.

We're headed in the right direction.

- Hi, Colonel.

- Hello, whisky for three.

None of that cow purge!

Give us some whisky.

But, Colonel, this is planter's stock.

Jamaican rum.

- I paid dear for this.

- And you charge dear for it.

Give us that stuff on the bottom shelf.

Give me the bottle.

Colonel,

I know why you want to see us.

You haven't found the fella

who told us about your gold shipments.

Who sold you the information

about our gold shipments.

No, I haven't. But I will.

You make it sound personal, Colonel.

A boy that I watched grow up

was in that car that you threw

the hornets into.

Was he hurt bad?

- We buried him the next day.

- I'm sorry.

We killed your friend,

but you don't hold that against us.

What you did was an act of war.

But selling information, that's treason.

Rotten treachery for money.

- I want the name of that man.

- There were two.

I don't know their names.

We gave them money.

- They gave us the information.

- Can you describe them?

One was a big man.

Almost as big as you.

The other one... You were closer.

The other fella,

even in the dark he stood out.

He was like an albino.

White hair, white skin. Smaller man.

- That's all.

- That's more than I had.

You fellas can do me a favour.

If you run into either of them,

let me know.

You can be sure of that.

- Another drink?

- Let us buy you a drink.

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