True Grit Page #2

Territory, is now in session.

Is that Judge Parker,

the hanging judge?

He's a tough customer. There's no

appeal except to the President himself!

Call Deputy Marshal Cogburn.

Mr Reuben J Cogburn

will take the stand.

You were sworn this morning,

you're still sworn.

Defence will cross-examine.

Mr Cogburn, you testified

for the prosecution this morning.

Allow me to summarise what you said.

According to your story...

...C C Wharton grabbed a shotgun

and killed Marshal Potter.

Then he turned the gun on you,

and you shot him.

Then the father swung his axe,

and you shot him, too.

The defendant tried to run,

you say, and you also shot him.

Just winged him,

or he wouldn't be here to pay up!

The old man and CC hit the ground dead.

How long have you been

a Deputy Marshal, Mr Cogburn?

Four years, come March.

How many men have you shot

in that time?

- The prosecution objects!

- Overruled!

How many men have you shot

since becoming a marshal?

- I never shot nobody I didn't have to!

- That's not the question. How many?

Shot or killed?

Let's restrict it to killed,

a more manageable figure!

Well, twelve to fifteen, stopping men

in flight and defending myself.

Twelve to fifteen? So many

you can't keep a specific count.

I have examined the records.

A more accurate figure is available.

Come now, how many?

Counting them two Whartons,

twenty-three.

I felt you'd come to it

with a little effort.

Twenty-three dead men in four years.

That makes about six men a year!

- It's a dangerous business.

- How much more for those you arrest!

Is it not true that

you sprang upon the Whartons

with a deadly six-shot revolver?

- I always try to be ready.

- Was this revolver loaded and cocked?

A gun that's unloaded

ain't good for nothing!

Just answer, if you please.

- The question don't make sense!

- Don't bandy words with counsel.

Yes, sir.

You testified you backed away

from old man Wharton.

- Yes, sir.

- Which direction?

Backward! I always go backward

when I'm backing away!

I appreciate the humour of that remark.

Aaron Wharton was standing by a pot

when you arrived?

More like squatting.

He was stirring the fire under the pot.

- How far did you back away?

- Six, eight steps.

Meaning Wharton advanced the same

distance? Six or eight steps?

- Sixteen feet?

- Something like that.

Then explain why the body was found

by the wash pot,

one arm in the flames,

the sleeve and hand smouldering.

Them hogs!

They may have moved the body.

Hogs, indeed!

Mr Goudy, do you have

any more questions?

None that I'll get a straight answer to.

I'm finished with him.

You're dismissed, Mr Cogburn.

Call the next witness!

Cecil Falling Leaf, take the stand!

Raise your right hand...

- Mr Rooster Cogburn?

- What is it?

I'd like to talk with you a minute.

They say you're a man with true grit.

What do you want? Speak up!

You've already wrinkled the paper...

It's pretty loose

because your makings are too dry.

I'm looking for Tom Chaney.

Well, who's he?

He shot and killed my father,

Frank Ross.

He's in the Indian Territory.

I need somebody to go after him.

- Who are you?

- Mattie Ross.

My family has 480 acres

of good bottomland in Yell County.

Mother's home looking after

my baby sister and brother.

Why don't you go home

and leave me alone?

They'll need help with the churning!

Mr Cogburn!

You can get a fugitive warrant

for Chaney and $2 for bringing him in,

plus 10 cents a mile for each of you,

and I'll give you $50 reward!

You've looked into this right smart.

Yes, I mean business.

What have you got in your poke?

By God, girl, that's a Colt's Dragoon!

You're no bigger than a corn nubbin.

What are you doing with this pistol?

My father carried it bravely in the war.

I intend to kill Tom Chaney with it

if the law fails.

This'll sure get the job done,

if you can find a fence post to rest it on

while you take aim!

I'm afraid nothing'll be done

about Chaney unless I do it myself.

- I don't think you've got $50.

- After my horse-trading, I'll have it.

Do you know the robber

Lucky Ned Pepper?

I know him... well!

I shot him in the lip last August

over at Winding Stair Mountains.

He was lucky that day,

my shooting was off!

Well, I think Chaney's

tied up with him.

- Yeah?

- Yeah!

- Ned Pepper, huh?

- Yeah...

Baby sister, I don't think

you can get $50.

But I'll take you home

and give you supper.

We'll talk it over, make medicine.

How does that suit you?

Right down to the ground.

I'd like to meet your family.

This is my father, Chen Lee.

And my nephew,

General Sterling Price.

You want more, Missy?

I've had enough,

and enough is as good as a feast.

I've never seen chopsticks work before.

Chopsticks save the fingers.

- Gimme your cup.

- I don't drink coffee, thank you.

- Well, what do you drink?

- I'm partial to cold buttermilk.

Well, we ain't got none of that.

We ain't got no lemonade either.

Let's get to the game.

- My deal?

- Yes, sir.

- What about my proposition?

- Thinking on it.

Sounds like a mighty easy way

to make $50 to me.

Don't crowd me, I'm figuring expenses.

How you can play cards, drink whisky

and think detective at the same time?

Well, if I have to go up against

Ned Pepper, it'll cost $100, I figure.

And 50 in advance.

- You're trying to take advantage of me.

- They're my children's rates!

It isn't going to be easy

smoking old Ned out.

He'll be holed up

down that Indian Nation.

Well, I'm not going

to keep you in whisky!

I don't buy that, I confiscate it!

A touch of it wouldn't do you

any harm against the night air!

It's the real article,

genuine double-rectified bust-head!

Aged in the keg.

I would not put a thief in my mouth

to steal my brains.

Well, sis, my price is $100.

There it is. Want to make medicine?

I will think about your proposition.

You better walk me

over to the boarding house.

You are a lot of trouble.

Wait till I finish this hand.

You can't tell what's in a Chinaman's

mind. That's the way he bests you!

I go.

Scat!

Mr Rat...

My writ here says you must stop

eating Chen Lee's cornmeal forthwith.

It's a rat writ, writ for a rat,

and this is lawful service of same.

See, he doesn't pay any attention to me.

Outside is the place for shooting!

I'm serving some papers.

That was your job in the first place!

You can't serve papers

on a rat, baby sister.

You've got to kill him or let him be.

Are you going to drink all of that?

Judge Parker... Old Carpetbagger!

But he knows his rats.

We had a good court...

...until those pettifogging lawyers

moved in.

The ratcatcher's too tough on the rats!

"Give them rats a fair show," they say.

What fair show

did they give old man Potter?

Tell me that. Finer man never lived.

You're useless in this condition.

I'll walk over there by myself.

- You scared of the dark?

- Never!

If I had a big horse-pistol like that,

I wouldn't be scared of the booger man.

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