Will Penny Page #3

No, I'm looking for a job. One of the

Texas hands said you might be hirin'.

I'll take 'im.

He ain't comin'. I come instead.

- You must need a hand. -

Claude was a good cow-puncher.

- Mighty good man all the way round.

- Well, sure.

- That's always the way.

- What's always the way?

Let a man die, right

away he's good old Claude.

How was he before he bucked out?

You boys, go dig a proper grave.

We'll hold services for him later.

Come on over to the bunkhouse.

This here gentleman

calls himself Will Penny.

He comes ridin' around here as nice as

you please, hopin' to find a nice job.

And there lays old

Claude, just beggin' him:

"Take mine, Mr Penny, take mine!"

Hell, that's the story

you give the big augur.

Now, we're just no-account

cow-punchers together, here.

Ain't no need for you

to tell us them lies.

Well, son. You dealt this hand. I

guess you'll just have to play it out.

Hold it! All of you.

This man's on the payroll. A

Flatiron hand, not a stranger.

Any eyeballing done

around here, I'll do it.

- Hell, we're just trying to help 'im.

- Yeah, like a sharp stick in the eye.

Take Claude's job, line-rider

in the ridge country.

Pay's 30 dollars a month.

Are you sure you rode line before?

Sure enough to have mighty

strong feelings about it.

You can tell he's done it before.

We got rules here on the Flatiron.

You hold to 'em and we'll be friends.

Break 'em and you're out before

you can say, "Excuse me, ma'am."

First, we got no

drinkin' or gamblin'.

Cut the wolf loose all you want

in town, but not on this layout.

- Is that plain?

- Plain enough.

The pilgrims that come through:

As long as they keep movin', fine.

If they take a beef now and

then, you don't do much either.

But you don't let nobody stop.

That's the most important thing.

Nobody stops on Flatiron range.

- What if they don't move?

- They'll move all right.

Won't nobody say nothing

about it, neither.

One of the boys'll tell you

how to get to the old shack.

Three or four days' ride.

Is there anything else?

No. I reckon you said it all.

About them nesters. If there's too

many to handle, come back for help.

Otherwise, I don't wanna

hear from you till spring.

Hello, the shack!

You may as well come on out.

This here's Flatiron

range. You can't squat here.

Don't... don't shoot!

Please! Don't shoot.

My name's Will Penny. You

remember me, ma'am, from the...

road ranch, that

man Catron's place?

- Don't come nearer! I'm alone and...

- Ma!

The boy's right. Don't ever tell

a stranger out here you're alone.

- Where's your guide, Mr Bodine?

- He went on ahead.

- Did he get paid?

- My husband paid him in St Louis.

He ain't comin' back,

I can promise you that.

Anybody could see he

had no stomach for it.

Now look at you.

You and the button, you

can't sleep in the wagon.

Well, of course we won't.

- You can't stay here.

- Why?

This is Flatiron range.

The rules say no squatters.

If you won't move on peaceable,

somebody will come and make you.

Are you gonna do that?

If I don't, they'll just send some...

That's how it is up here.

Nobody's using this

old shack, anyway.

A line-rider uses it, son.

Look, there ain't no way...

Don't come any nearer.

This may go off.

Please, don't be scared.

I ain't gonna hurt you none.

Look, I'll be on my way.

Please be careful with

that damned thing, ma'am.

I'll be gone two, three

days, maybe a week.

I gotta see how this place lays out.

That gives you plenty

of time to pack up.

When I get back, you be gone

from the line-rider's shack.

Mr Penny!

Who is the line-rider?

Me. I am.

- We'll have to get more tomorrow.

- Already?

You want to be warm,

'specially in the morning.

You goin' somewheres, boy?

He ain't as stout as he looks.

Aw, hell!

Just stand right there...

- Gimme my knife back.

- Get his boots.

Boots hell, Papa. We're

gonna get everything here.

Come on down!

Papa!

He ain't dead yet. Ain't

we gonna get to kill him?

Oh... that's bad.

That is bleedin' real bad.

We don't want that to happen.

I knew a fella once, his

wagon team got away with him,

run a wheel spoke through his middle.

Bled himself out, right there.

Don't you know how easy it was?

It was like takin' a little sleep

under a shady tree. Didn't hurt at all.

He just got kinda drowsy and...

just dozed off. Well...

sir, it ain't gonna

be that easy for you.

No, sir. Not that easy.

Remember me?

- Dead?

- No, he ain't dead. Leave him.

Leave him?

Leave him be. Out here by himself...

no goods...

winter comin' on. He's

gonna be a long while a-dyin'.

And all that time, he's

gonna know who done it to him.

Yes, sir. Mighty long time.

And then, he'll be dead.

Ashes to ashes,

dust to dust.

The Lord giveth and

the Lord taketh away.

Blessed be the name of the Lord.

Come on!

- Ma.

- Yes?

- Is he gonna die?

- Well, I hope not.

HG! Go and get some water!

HG!

Yes, Horace?

I thought we didn't like him.

We don't.

I just couldn't let him

stay sick. It wouldn't be...

It wouldn't be Christian, would it?

Like the good Samaritan.

That's right.

I think you should eat

something. It's been three days.

That long?

Here.

Good...

Thanks, I... I owe you thanks.

Let's be clearer. We are not friends.

You can stay until you're

better, but when you are,

you will, of course, leave.

Poor old cow's freezing out there.

You awake, mister?

Not really sure.

Was it the Indians? The wild Indians?

How many were there?

Hundred, maybe two hundred.

A hundred? You're telling a fib.

That's right, Button. Just a windy.

HG, I think Mr Penny would

like to get some rest now.

Mr Penny!

Before long it'll burn so fast, I won't

be able to chop enough even two-handed!

We worked to make you better.

You could hurt yourself

doing something unnecessary.

Unnecessary! I don't

wanna scare nobody,

but it's gonna be hell here

before winter's through.

Working eight days a week, we

won't be able to get ready for it.

Most of this wood's so damn green.

What are we gonna do?

Winter's just hardly started.

Burn chips, I guess.

What's chips?

Cow chips, buffalo chips. They make

a hot fire, burn slow. You know.

No, I don't know. What's chips?

Well, chips are...

Well, they're...

They're just dried up...

Yeah?

Aw, hell.

I'll get the button and

go find some. Horace!

Is it true what Ma says,

you'll chase us away?

Look, Button, there's more

to it than just sittin' there.

Sit up straight, hang

on with your legs.

If they find out about you and

your ma down at the Flatiron...

If you told 'em, would

there be shootin'?

- Might be.

- Maybe you oughta tell 'em.

- You want to see some shootin'?

- Never seen any.

I don't think you'd like it much.

How many people have you shot?

Don't think that's anything to

brag on to a nice boy like you.

Come on, sit down and rest a spell.

I ain't so nice. You can tell me.

Well, I guess there was a few times.

- How did it feel?

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