Yankee Page #4

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follow the words.

Cigar!

Take him down.

Down, on the ground!

Gunpowder!

Yankee!

You are a great player,

aren't you?

Have you ever played

with fire?

It's a very nice game,

believe me.

It warms the blood.

And I have the pot.

Yankee!

A special treat

from Tattoo.

Concho! They're coming back,

the ones you sent to Los Alamos...

... to loosen the tongue of the cashier.

- Finally, those snails.

Get this one

out of my sight!

Careful!

He mustn't die yet.

Get him out!

Concho, the bank's waggon

left Los Alamos.

- When?

- This morning, but...

But what?

Spit it out!

But it was empty.

It was a sham. No gold.

Damn!

What do you want from me?

I'm just a simple employee.

I don't give a damn

about what you are.

I want the gold!

Where is the gold?

Where?

It will be transported

on rafts, seor.

On the river.

Hombres!

I can tell you that we'll be the richest

men in all of New Mexico by tomorrow!

- Long live the Concho!

- Long live the Concho!

- How's the Yankee doing?

- How should I know?

He's over there.

Is he still alive?

He's not doing too well,

but he's alive, muchachos!

And we're dead tired.

You came to propose

a business concept to the Concho.

To cash in on our heads.

Were you serious about that?

Because I'd be in.

Two equal shares:

One half for me...

...and the other half

for you.

Tattoo!

A special gift

from the Yankee.

Portuguese! Philosopher!

The Yankee took off!

Stop!

Freeze, you bastard!

Hombres!

We caught the American.

Come on!

Great Concho!

The game isn't over yet!

Come on, quick!

On the coach.

And no protest.

Come on, you sluts.

Forward!

Check for others.

And don't waste time!

A shave, please.

Seor, seor! This portrait

was hung up by the Concho.

You be quiet.

I don't need any more trouble.

What's up?

Are you afraid to die?

Your hand is shaking.

- Easy on my skin.

- Alright, seor.

I saw it with my own eyes.

I swear!

- Spit it out!

- He went to Consalvo, I swear!

It's either this Indio

or the Yankee who's crazy.

It's better to check it out.

Go. Take a look.

Luiz was right.

The Indio is crazy.

The sombrero, seor.

Good luck.

Adios, Yankee!

The Great Concho is waiting

for us at the river!

Forward! Forward!

Get down the coach

and push! Move!

Push!

Goodbye!

To the rafts, hombres!

Let's go!

Bring them ashore.

Careful!

Put them there.

Hombres!

Put the cases

on the coach.

You were right, Great Concho.

We're the richest men in all of New Mexico.

Let's go.

If someone is surrounded by fire,

there are two options.

And only two:

He either burns

or goes insane.

Right, Philosopher?

You betrayed us, Luiz.

You disgusting worm!

Stop there!

Stop right there,

Yankee!

Drop the gun!

You, too,

Great Concho.

Drop the gun.

Your game is over.

Now I'm playing.

The gold belongs to

the one with the weapon.

You said that a hundred times,

Concho, remember?

A bad day

for nightingales.

Right, Yankee?

- Bad day for lions, too.

- Exactly.

But I'm the one

with a few bullets left.

In here.

While all you have is a single,

measly bullet in your gun.

Just a single one.

A single bullet is more than enough

for someone who knows how to use it.

But games with the life at stake

don't take that long.

And a living player

is still a player.

A dead player

is nothing more than carrion.

Better an interrupted game

than a lost match.

Apart from that,

one plays for fun, not to win.

That's a guideline that might be enough

for somebody else, but not for me.

I told you.

I'm a player who never leaves

the game on halftime.

Only an amateur panics.

I have control

over my nerves.

I'm one of those who never leave

anything on the table when they win.

You gambled

your head away, Yankee.

I won it.

And I'll take it.

You can have it.

But isn't it

too easy that way?

That way you won't have the fun

you were hoping for.

You'll have to do without

the game with the fire, for example.

I could think up

another game.

Bounce-ball.

That's an exciting game,

you know.

And I have the bank.

The game is over.

And the bank

has been broken.

By rule of thumb, this gold

might console me over the bounties.

If it's not quite enough,

I just paid something extra.

Every game

has its price.

The best ones are

damn short and fast.

I'll leave the

vultures to you.

You lost some customers as a barber,

but you gained some as a gravedigger.

Tear the warrants with

the numbers from the walls...

...and give them to the devil.

He's the only one who still needs them.

- Adios!

- Adios.

Adios, Yankee.

Good luck!

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