Two Rode Together Page #4

Synopsis: The US Army is under pressure from the desperate relatives of white prisoners of the Comanches to secure their rescue. A cynical and corrupt marshal, Guthrie McCabe, is persuaded by an army lieutenant to assist in the negotiations with the Comanches; however, just two captives are released, and their reintegration into white society proves highly problematic.
Genre: Western
Director(s): John Ford
Production: Columbia Pictures
  1 nomination.
 
IMDB:
6.8
APPROVED
Year:
1961
109 min
241 Views


- Montana territory. I just got out...

- It was my fault, you know.

- What do you mean?

- I was supposed to look after him.

When the Indians came, I ran and hid.

He was only 8 years old.

How old were you?

Thirteen, I think.

Yes.

Where was your father

and the others?

Hadn't been any Indians within 50

miles. He'd gone to visit a neighbour.

They weren't even touched.

It was a small raiding party, I guess.

I was still hiding

when Father came home...

...too frightened to come out...

...after I knew the Comanches

had ridden away.

Well, it...

It sounds to me, Miss...?

Marty.

Sounds to me, Miss Marty...

...like there wasn't anything

you could have done anyway.

Except get captured yourself.

I have a picture of him.

Do you think you could get Mr. McCabe

to look at it before he goes?

I'll make sure he does.

I'll get it.

Real Pennsylvania rye.

If you don't say

that's good whiskey...

...my name isn't Wringle,

Henry J. Wringle.

That's Henry J. All right.

Yes, sir.

- Now, what about this boy of yours?

- No, no, no.

Not my boy, my wife's.

By her first husband.

See, I promised her I'd do everything

I could to find that boy of hers.

In fact, l... I had to give her my word

on it before she'd marry me.

Well, that seems natural enough.

Oh, yes, yes, it's natural.

But it certainly isn't practical.

Not when you've got a business to run.

Now, this journey.

Why, this thing could

go on for months.

All these people setting

these camps up every night...

...eight, nine miles... No.

I just haven't got

that kind of time to waste.

Well, maybe you'll be lucky.

McCabe...

...l've always been a man

that made his own luck.

And if I'm any judge of character...

...so have you.

You know, my wife hasn't seen

that boy of hers since he was 2.

Be 17 now.

McCabe...

...I will guarantee that you

could bring in any boy that age...

...tell my wife that it was her son...

...she'd accept him without question.

And then you could get back

to your business.

Then I could get back

to my business.

I'd be willing to give 1000...

- Five hundred dollars for...

- You said 1000.

All right, I'll make it 1000.

And, McCabe, any boy would do,

you know?

Well, he'd have a good home,

get an education.

- What's wrong with that?

- Not a thing.

Not a thing, Mr. Wringle.

Maybe in time, he'd grow up

to be a man like you.

- You bet your life.

- All right.

- It's a deal.

- It's a deal.

- Fine, thanks a lot.

- I'll take the keg, to bind it, huh?

All right, you can go...

- Hello, lieutenant.

- Interrupting something?

Oh, no, no, no. I was just wishing

Mr. McCabe good luck.

- Good luck, McCabe.

- Yes, sir.

Yes, sir, Mr. Wringle.

Yes, sir.

That was Mr. Wringle.

- Happy fella, isn't he?

- Mr. Wringle.

You know, that's the trouble

with the world today.

There are too many Wringles.

Why, they're just all Wringles

all over the place.

There are too many Wringles in the

bed, there are Wringles in your shirts...

...there are Wringles in your face.

There are too many Wringles.

You better give me this keg.

You've had enough.

We're pulling out of here

in the morning, you know.

- We?

- We.

What, was this Frazer's idea

or was it your idea?

Major Frazer. Direct orders.

- Doesn't he trust me?

- Who does?

Does he think

I ought to have a chaperone?

- Probably. You need one.

- I need one?

I got enough trouble trying

to keep my own scalp...

...without having to try

and look after your scalp.

Look, you don't have

to worry about me.

I can take care of myself.

There's no point in arguing.

There's no point in arguing.

I'm going with you.

- You've seen very few Indians...

- Now, wait a minute.

- When were you planning to pull out?

- I was planning to pull out at sunup.

All right, change your plans

and pull out a little before.

I don't want people

to know I've gone with you.

Yes, sir!

- Yes, sir! Lieutenant, yes, sir!

- Oh, cut it out!

- Is there any other orders?

- Stop acting like a fool.

Is there any other orders?

If there are no further orders...

- Knock it off, will you!

- Is it all right if my friend and I go out?

And I go someplace

where it's quiet...

...and drink to all

the Wringles in the world?

Look, cut it out, Guthrie.

We've been friends too long.

Whatever gave you that idea?

- Hiya, Posey.

- Evening, sir.

- Did you have a good supper?

- Oh, yeah, fine. You seen McCabe?

Oh, him. He's over at

the old Hickman place with a keg.

That figures.

There's some coffee over there

if you'd like to join Dad.

- Well, thank you, ma'am.

- I'll see you.

- Well...

- Oh, no, no, no.

Now, if you two want to stroll down

lover's lane holding hands...

...you can do it someplace else,

because this is my room.

I'm sorry,

we didn't mean to startle you.

Well, the least you could've done is

knock, because this is my room.

Now, wait a minute. She wanted to ask

you something special before you left.

- Is that so?

- Yeah, that's so.

This picture.

It's my brother,

the one we're looking for.

Of course, he was very young there,

but it's all I have...

...and I thought it might help you.

How long has it been

since that picture was taken?

At least 12 years.

I think he'd be about 17 now.

About 17?

About 17.

You... You give me a picture of

a curly headed 5-year-old kid...

...with velvet knee-britches...

...and you think it'll help, huh?

Would you like me to tell you

what this little angel looks like now?

- Come on, Guthrie, cut it out.

- No, no, no. Let her know.

It's about time somebody

in this camp knows.

Here. Here. Now, let me...

Let me tell you something.

Do you...?

That kid has braids

down to here now.

Stiff, stinking braids...

...filled with buffalo grease.

And he's got a scar there,

right in his shoulder...

...where they stuck the pins

right in through his flesh.

Then took some rawhide ropes

and hung him up like that...

...so he'd sort of dangle like that

until the kid tore himself...

...off these pins

just to prove he's a man.

He forgot his English.

He just grunts Comanche now.

Just grunts.

And he's killed.

And he's taken scalps,

white man's scalps.

And given the chance,

sister, he'd rape you.

- I told you to cut it out!

- Now you... You hush.

- I'm not gonna hush. Just shut up!

- I'm talking to the lady. You hush.

When he's finished, he'd trade you off

to one of the other bucks...

...for a good knife or a bad rifle.

Now, is that what you want me

to bring back to you, huh?

Is that what you want?

Why, you no...

Why didn't you knock her down and

kick her teeth in while you were at it?

How about a snort before you go?

Hey, Jim.

Jim!

- Jim!

- Marty. Marty, listen.

That was the whiskey talking,

not McCabe.

So forget it, please.

Put it right out of your mind.

No, it wasn't the whiskey.

It was the truth.

I'm a fool for...

For crying over someone who

died nine years ago.

But I can't help it.

You leave her be.

Go on back to camp, Miss Marty.

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Frank S. Nugent

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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