Episode 2 – “Deep Water”
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(Open as EB emerges from the hotel pushing a wheelbarrow full
of laundry –towards Mr. Wu’s. We see
Tim Driscoll’s dog come running after him.
When EB gets to the pig sty, we see Mr. Wu, he watches EB approach.)
E.B.: “Washee” (Holding
up some of the linens)
Mr. Wu: "Washee”
(EB reveals the body of Tim Driscoll in the cart
under the linens.)
EB: “Eat-ee”
(Camera pans to the pigs, EB points to
the barking dog) His doggy, them “eat-ee” too, or, “eat-ee” him yourself,
you leering heathen.
(Al’s
bedroom, he and Trixie are sleeping – Al sits up, Trixie remains asleep. We hear the chattering of the lumberjacks outside, Al
gets up and pisses in his chamber pot.
He looks out the window and sees the men fell the tree. He spots EB approaching. Al picks up the gun Trixie left on his
bedside table – Trixie opens her eyes.)
Al:Is this for me?
Trixie:Brought it for you.
Al:Get out.
(On the street – one man is talking
excitedly to another.)
Hoople
head: Pointed the gun at him! Boom, shot him right over there!
That’s the guy over there. Him
and Wild Bill got the guy right in the eye.
(Seth is
shaving outside the hardware tent. Sol
approaches him.)
Sol:You
touch that hotel’s kitchen, Seth?
Seth:
I’ll meet you.
(The
Reverend is standing over an unfinished
casket, Johnny looking on.)
Rev: Men
like Mr. Seth Bullock there raise the camp up.
Johnny:Yeah, a
fella to be put in that box might argue with you, Reverend.
Rev: Ah, Mr.
Bullock did not draw first. And I,
point to his commissioning me to build the departed a coffin and, and see to
his Christian burial.
Johnny:Well, any
idea of the departed’s name?
Rev: Ah, in his
effects I found a letter addressed to Tom Mason.
Johnny: Well, I know
a Tom Mason. But that feller, keepin’
cool in the creek, that ain’t him.
Rev: Which, having
prayed, I decided to open. The sender,
Mrs. Walter Mason writes, “I’ve asked your brother Ned, to bear this to you.”
From which I conclude the…departed’s name is Ned.
Johnny: Ned Mason,
huh?
Rev: Perhaps the
Tom Mason you know is the dead man’s brother?
If he is in the camp he should be notified.
Johnny: No, I ain’t
seen Tom around.
(Gem saloon,
Al is decsending the stairs)
Al: Coffee!
EB: Mornin’,
Al.
Al: I’d like
someone to tell me what in fuck is goin’ forward in this camp?
EB:Tim
Driscoll’s checked out. I can tell you
that much.
Al: Left you
hotel, has he?
EB: Moved to
Wu’s pig sty.
Al: What was
that shootout about?
EB: At sunup?
Al: Yeah, at
fuckin’ sunup!
EB: Far as I heard,
Al, Hickok, and one of them hardware guys you’re renting to, threw down on the
fella brought word in of that squarehead family that was massacred. Suspected he was in on the kill.
Al: What’s it
to Hickok or that hardware guy either how them squareheads come to die?
EB: I couldn’t
agree with ya more.
(Jewel
approaches with coffee.)
Al: If
you don’t stop draggin’ that fuckin’ leg.
Jewel:(To EB) Coffee?
EB: I
might have one cup. Did you know one
squarehead lived? (Al looks at EB – very serious.)
Little squarehead girl? They
took her to the Doc’s.
Al: What
condition?
EB:I don’t
know, Al. If she was to live, wouldn’t
she have a story to tell? (Al looks at EB again.)
(Doc’s
cabin. He gasps as he wakes up – goes
over to Sophia, who is on the bed. He
checks her forehead and her cheek.
Outside, Jane is
sleeping
against the Doc’s cabin. Doc approaches
her – touches her arm.)
Doc: Wake
up.
Jane: How’s that little one?
Doc: She’s still
among us.
Jane: I’m askin’ you
what her prospects are?
Doc: If her wounds
don’t fester, she might can have a fightin’ chance.
Jane: Good.
Doc: (Sees Seth approaching) None of that to
him.
Jane: Oh,
he’s alright.
Doc: Not a word.
Seth: Mornin’.
Jane:Mornin’,
Bullock.
Seth: I
was wonderin’ how that child fared?
Doc: Iffy, touch
and go. I’m not optimistic.
Seth: Has she
spoken?
Doc:
She’s not
conscious. Be surprised if she ever is.
Seth: I’d like to
hear which ever way it goes. (Turns to leave)
Jane: If
you see Bill Hickok, or that sore asshole, Charlie Utter, could you tell him I
looked to the stock?
Seth: Sure, I’ll let
him know. (Seth leaves, Doc turns to go inside.)
Jane: You’re
wrong not to trust him. He formed a
party that found that little one among all the dead of her family.
Doc: Didn’t
he? And didn’t he also shoot a man he
suspected in the murders? And if I were to confide in him when you
circulate my optimism, I mean, wouldn’t he say, “When the little one speaks,
you’ll see I was right, not the Sioux killed her family, but road agents? And supposing it was road agents, and they
hear his talk, where’s the little one stand then?
Jane: You got a dark
turn a mind.
Doc:
I see as much
misery outta them movin’ to justify their selves as them that set out to do
harm.
(Seth is
walking along the street – Bill Hickok is inside the restaurant as Seth passes
by the window,
about to enter the restaurant.)
Utter:
Same
dead roach in the same damn biscuit.
Wild Bill: He stuck to his position.
Seth: Mornin’.
Wild Bill: Mornin’,
Montana. (Bill reaches for the coffee, shaking, seeing this, Utter grabs the
coffee pot and pours it.)
Utter: Joe?
Seth: Much
obliged. (Reaches his cup over Wild Bill.) Your friend asked me to say she’s
looked to your stock.
Wild Bill: Thanks.
Seth: She’s back now
watchin’ over that child we found. Far
as her chances, the Doc’s not optimistic.
Wild Bill: From the
look of him, you think that Doc’s been wrong once or twice in his life?
Seth: Maybe once or
twice.
Utter: We’ll
likely be by your tent later.
Sol: (Sitting at a table across the room) Good!
Utter: Get
Bill here outfitted with some prospectin’ gear.
Sol: Yes,
Sir. (Bill and Charlie sit down across the room.)
Wild Bill:Don’t
do that, Charlie.
Utter: Do what?
Wild Bill: Trumpet
my intentions. Herd me like a damn
steer.
Utter: Ain’t you here
to prospect gold? If you’re just gonna
gamble, Bill, let’s get it set. I’ll
arrange appearance money for you at one of these joints.
Wild Bill: That
ain’t gambling. It’s shilling for the
house.
Utter: It’s getting’
you a regular damn source a income.
So’s this don’t wind up like Cheyenne.
(Bill gives Charlie a look.)
Seth: What
offer should we make at the purchase of that lot?
Sol: Ah, the
barber next to us paid 600 for his lot 10 days ago.
Seth: Seller’s
market.
Sol: Mmm-Hmm. I’d say we’re well bought at 750 we don’t go
past a thousand.
Merrick: (Approaching) Ah, ah, may I ah, join
you?
(Sol
gestures to the table – yes why the fuck not?
Merrick sets his coffee and breakfast
plate
down. Wild Bill looks over at Merrick,
he is annoyed at his presence.)
Merrick: Well,
Mr. Bullock, after the events of last night, for an ink stained wretch like
myself, finding you and Mr. Hickok here in the same dining room is luck indeed.
Seth: I don’t want
to talk about last night’s events.
Merrick: Um,
alright, fair enough. I know how to
pocket my notebook, sir. The same
wretched biscuits.
( Alma comes
down the hotel stairs.)
EB: Mrs.
Garrett? I hoped you slept well.
Alma: As it happens,
I did not.
EB: I’m very
sorry. Do you require the doctor?
Alma: Yes. Please.
EB: Certainly,
Ma’am, of course. (Alma puts money down
on the counter.) Sorry you’re poorly again.
(Alma enters
the restaurant, all the men rise, Charlie last. She nods, they all sit.)
Merrick: That
is Mrs. Alma Garrett. Whose husband,
I’m told, standing at the bar at Swearengen’s saloon, (Alma reaches for coffee, shaking.) purchased a gold claim last
night, for $20,000. (We see Wild Bill watching her.)
Sol: We
rent our lot from Al Swearengen.
Merrick: I’m
not surprised to hear it. Tim Driscoll,
the claims seller, lives here in this hotel.
He, ah, (lightly) must be
sleeping in. (Seth raises his brows and
looks at Merrick.)
(At Garret's
claim, Brom is in the creek shoveling gravel from the stream. Dan is behind him, watching.)
Brom: Ah. Do you mind?
(Dan holds
out a bucket for Brom to dump the gravel into.
We see Ellsworth on the other side of the
creek behind Brom.)
Ellsworth: Mornin’,
boys!
Brom: Good
Morning!
Dan: Ellsworth.
Ellsworth: Name’s
Ellsworth. I hear you bought these
digs.
Brom: Brom
Garrett, how do you do?
Ellsworth: My
claim’s next one over.
Brom: I
see.
Ellsworth: You
cleanin’ up any yella?
Dan: Day’s young.
Brom: How
ah, how are things running at your claim?
Ellsworth: Made my
quota for whiskey, pussy and food.
Dan: Then you best
get on down to the Gem, Ellsworth.
Ellsworth: Further
benefits will only benefit the faro dealers.
Brom: This
exact spot showed a fistful of nuggets two nights ago.
Ellsworth: Well, don’t
weaken, Pilgrim. Twix nuggets are nothin’,
she’s usually gonna show you some flake. (Dan
looks at him.)
Brom: Thanks
for the encouraging words. (Ellsworth leaves, Brom puts another shovel
full of silt into Dan’s bucket.) She hasn’t even showed me any flake. Oh hell.
(Gem saloon, Johnny is with Al.)
Johnny: Well,
I doubt that, Reverend, I say. The Tom
Mason I know, is nowhere near here. But
what I was thinkin’, is damned if Al didn’t center shoot the Bull’s-eye. It wasn’t Sioux killed them
squareheads. But it was Persimmon Phil,
Tom Mason and that croaker headed for his coffin is probably some fucked up
younger brother of Tom’s, named Ned.
Al: Listen to
me, go get Doc Cochran.
Johnny:And I never
tipped the thumper to none of it, Al. I
played it dumb as a pile of rocks.
Al: Go get
the Doc, say I want him to see to the whores.
Johnny:Alright,
Al. (Turns
around to leave) ‘Scuse me fella. (Walks
past Seth.)
Seth: Mr.
Swearengen.
Al: Yeah,
that’s right.
Sol: Sol Star.
Seth: Seth Bullock.
Sol: Rent on lot
four. (Puts a money on the bar in front
of Al.)
Al: Lot
four? The hardware boys, hmm? Here, I wanna buy you fellas a drink. How’s business on that lot? Hell of a spot isn’t it? Any more foot traffic you’d have to call it
a riot. Now, I’m turning back
slow. Nothin’ in hand but this whiskey
bottle. (Seth looks at Al then Sol and back.) Well, I heard you’re not a
man I want mistakin’ my intentions.
Seth: Who
says that? I’d like to ask ‘em what
they mean.
Sol: That
fella drew on Seth this morning.
Al: Never
heard different.
Seth: No
one mistook his intentions.
Al: Let’s
leave it all alone. I am stupidest when
I try to be funny. There you go fellas.
And these are still free. (Pours another round) Sorry for hittin’
a nerve, huh?
Seth: We’d
like to make an offer on that lot we’re rentin’.
Al: Sell
my back teeth for the right money.
Sol: Would
600 get the job done?
Al: I
guess before I made a price I’d want to know if you boys have unnamed partners?
Seth: Why?
Al: I
think specifically Wild Bill Hickok.
Didn’t you and Hickok act
together in the street this morning?
Sol: No, we just
met Wild Bill Hickok.
Seth: What business
of that is his?
Al:
You mean
what business of mine is that?
Seth:
Don’t tell me
what the fuck I mean.
Al: Not a
tone to get a deal done.
Sol: Can we sort
it out at another time? Thirsty people
comin’.
(Persimmon
Phil and Tom Mason enter the Gem.)
Al: Sure. Yeah and you and me’ll find our proper
stride, huh?
Seth: Alright.
Sol: Good luck on
the days trade.
Al: Well I
won’t wish you luck ‘cause I can tell you ain’t the type that needs it. Sol Star, right? That’s a Jewish name.
Mine isn’t, but nice to meet you, son, huh?
Sol: Pleasure.
Al: Marked
you for an earner the minute you come in my sight. (Sol and Seth head out.) Jew Bastard. Ah, two wayfarers
when I’d heard you were three.
Phil: How you
doin’, Al?
Al: Shall we
all, let’s drink upstairs?
Tom:I can be
persuaded.
Al: Will you
have a whore, Tom, or you still stayin’ true to that heifer?
Tom: It’s over
‘tween me and her.
Phil: Oh, Tommy
went sweet on a buffalo down by Yankton.
(Laughing)
Al: Where’s
brother Neddy, anyway?
Tom: Ah, fuck if I
know tha fucker. I’ll take her (He spots Trixie).
Al: Pick
another.
(On the
street, Seth and Sol are walking back to the tent.)
Seth: I
don’t like that sonofabitch.
Sol:Thank God
you didn’t let him see it.
Seth: Calls me loose
with a gun. Was he there?
Sol:We’ll just
get the lot bought, Seth, and have nothin’ more to do with him. (We see Rev. Smith waiting for them to get
closer.) Buy the lot and we’ll give him wide berth.
Rev: I’ve acted on
your commission, Mr. Bullock. Built a
coffin and dug a grave.
Seth: Thank you.
Rev: Will you join
me, now for the burial service? (Sol smiles and nods “yes”)
(Grand
Central, in Wild Bill and Charlie’s room.)
Utter: All
I was sayin’, Bill, ‘til ya start your prospectin’ if you’re gonna gamble,
let’s get you protected a little.
Wild Bill: I know
what you were sayin’.
Utter: The extra
business you bring a joint, interruptions you stand for or folks wantin’ to
glad hand, that all deserves compensation.
Wild Bill: Don’t
shop me to those places, Charlie.
(Knocking on
the door – EB, still standing behind the closed door…)
EB: E.B.
Farnum, gentlemen. Mr. Utter’s room is
ready.
(Charlie
gets up.)
(EB –
unlocking the door to Charlie’s new room.)
EB: Clean,
and thoroughly aired. (Charlie enters) The previous guest was
Irish. (EB jokingly taps Charlie on the arm – Charlie just looks at him.) No
tip necessary, sir. I operate the
hotel. (Hand over the key to Charlie – he
grabs it, EB leaves and as soon as he’s over the threshold Charlie closes the
door.)
(Alma's room, Doc is there)
Doc: I’ve
replenished your supply of medicine.
Alma: Thank you, Doctor. I’ve very
grateful for your attention. I only
wish my symptoms would subside.
Doc: If
I were to tell you, that I would see to you requirements whether you had
symptoms or not, do you suppose that would help you to heal?
Alma: I don’t know what
you mean?
Doc: I believe you
do, madam. I believe we understand each
other. There are people in this camp in
genuine need of my attention. Make this
adequate to your purposes for the next…several days.
Alma: Well, Thank
you, Doctor.
(Al’s
office, he and Persimmon Phil are drinking, noises from the next room.)
Phil: Listen
to Tom carrying on in there.
Al: Yeah, bad
luck he wasn’t here yesterday.
Phil: Yeah, what’d
we miss?
Al: Squarehead
family I could’ve tipped you to headin’ back to Minnesota.
Phil: They well
off? Worth still tryin’ to catch, are
they?
Al: Sioux
already caught up with them. Did from
last night on the road to Spearfish.
Phil: Heathen
cocksuckers. So we missed a good score
there, did we?
Al: Keep
lyin’…and I’ll murder you in that chair.
Phil: (Puts down his glass) I’m gonna tell you
what happened, Al. And this is the
God’s honest truth. (Al raises an
eyebrow) We come on that family by accident. Nobody was tryin’ to hold out your end or anything of the sort
or, conceal a goddamned thing. That’s
your end right there. (Takes a pouch out
of his inside jacket pocket, puts it on Al’s desk.) Weighed to the
ounce. Ah, my problem was we didn’t
clear this with you and you know how you get, Al. I mean, you know that yourself.
But, my problem was, bringin’ up the subject. But ah, that’s all weighed out there.
Al: You
know why I get how I get?
Phil: Yeah, y-you
wanna see over the job, you don’t like loose ends. I appreciate that.
Al: (Leans forward) Don’t like messes, ah,
things done half-ass, bags of shit left to hold.
Phil: There’s
no loose ends here, Al. I’ll guarantee
you that much, right now.
Al: ‘Cause I
got a whole operation here to consider.
Phil: (Hears Tom moaning and pounding away some
more, he chuckles.) Listen to Tom.
Al: One
of the squareheads lived.
Phil: No.
Al: No?
Phil: I’m sayin’
that’s pretty hard to believe. I
believe ya, but ah, we seen to ‘em pretty good.
Al: They
brought it back to camp, it’s over at the sawbones.
Phil: Is it
talkin’? I mean, can it speak English? “Cause when we was seein’ to ‘em, they was
all screamin’ in squarehead, Al.
Al: Where’s
Ned Mason?
Phil: That’s a
fuckin’ story right there, Al. If you
knew, the fuckin’ problem. Well, when,
when it comes to squareheads time, he spooks and runs off. Tom’s and my hands as full as they was doin’
what we had to do, so, God knows where he got off to. That’s your cut there, that reflects he’s out. There’s no cut there—
Al: He came
here.
Phil: (Sighs) No.
Al: Say
no again, I’ll murder you where you fucking sit.
Phil: He swore he’d
head to Cheyenne.
Al: Yeah, but
here’s closer, isn’t it? All you
cocksuckers go for the easiest chance.
Phil: So where is
he now?
Al: Where he
is now is he, stirs the whole camp up, last night with his massacre story, ‘til
I’m givin’ liquor away and cunt at half price, just to keep my crowd
controlled. Party makes up from
Nuttall’s to ride back out to Spearfish, Wild Bill Hickock and those two guys
walk past you downstairs saved the squarehead kid, tell Ned to stick around ‘til
they see what the kid has to say about him.
Phil: Wild Bill
Hickok?
Al: And Ned,
throws down.
Phil: Against Wild
Bill Hickok?
Al: Against
Hickok and this other cocksucker, who draws almost as fast so it’s a toss up
who blew Ned’s head off.
Phil: Christ, Al,
I-I’m, I’m really sorry for the bother.
Al: Yeah, so
you let Ned run you leave a squarehead alive and me to clean up the mess and
those are the only loose ends, huh?
Phil: I want you to
have my share. I swear to fuckin’
Christ, Al.
Al: I don’t
want your fuckin’ share. And I don’t
want that kid tellin’ people in English, or squarehead or drawin’ fucking
pictures in the shit with twigs about, how it wasn’t Indians that killed her
people but white! (Smacks Phil across the
head, knocking his chair over. Grabs Phil by the collar.) This camp could be up for grabs, now God
knows what these cocksuckers are up to, Hickok and the rest, or what I’m gonna
have to do about it. And just when I
need to keep my head clear, you give me these bags of shit to hold! I should cut your fuckin’ throat, Phil!
Phil: Al, please
don’t cut my throat. Let me help
straighten this out.
(Tom Mason
bursts into the office, stark naked, holding his dick.)
Tom: This
snatch is branded’! (Laughing – Al still has Phil by the collar,
pinned down on the floor – they both look at Tom, frozen in place.) What,
what happened?
Phil: Ah, tipped
over.
Al: And I’m
helpin’ him up. Put your iron away now,
Tom.
Tom:Ah, not
yet! Burned it at the flag T! (Heads back to the whore’s room)
(Doc's place)
Johnny: (Knocking – yells through the door to Doc) Doc, you’ll get me in dutch with Al!
Doc: (Jane is wrapping Sophia’s legs, Doc
watching) Just another damn moment! (Turns back to watch Jane again.) Don’t
put any pressure on it, just lay it on light.
Jane: It looks
like I’m pressin’, I’m not. I’m not
puttin’ any goddamned pressure!
Doc: That’s very
good. That’s very good.
Johnny: Doc!
Doc: I gotta go.
Jane: I expect care
for them whore’s business areas is a big damn part of your income. ‘Sup, this is what you want me to do?
Doc: Ah, yes. And don’t let anyone in.
Jane: Believe me,
anyone tries gettin’ in here is not you is gonna be damn fuckin’ sorry.
Doc: Alright. (Goes
to the door, puts on his hat.)
Jane: I may not let you back.
(At the cemetery.)
Rev: Our
Christ, as he was crucified addressed the thief who was hanging by his
side. Verily I say unto thee, this day,
shalt thou be with me in paradise. Your
ways are not our ways, oh Lord. We
abide the just and the unjust alike under your tearless eye. Tearless, not because you do not see us,
but…because you see what we are so well.
(Seth raises his brow, the
Reverend shuts his eyes and looks to the sky) Lamb of God, who takes away
the sin of the world, send your angels to welcome this body into paradise. Lamb of God, who takest away the sin of the
world, grant this soul eternal rest.
Amen.
Sol: That’s a
real generous perspective, Reverend.
Rev: And don’t we
need all the generosity we can get?
(Seth
smiles, he and Sol pick up the shovels and begin to cover the casket with dirt.)
(Al’s
office, Al is pouring a drink for Tom Mason, Al has his arm around Tom’s
shoulders.)
Al: They
butt into other people’s business and make the business of others their own,
these bought out no good cocksuckers.
Tom: What, Hickok
you’re talkin’ about?
Al: Oh,
fuckin’ bigshot that he is.
Phil: Big fuckin’
shot when he’s standin’ in front of ya.
Al: One in
his ear from behind I’d like to see how fuckin’ tough he was.
Phil: That’s right,
cocksucker.
(Rapid
knocking on the office door, Johnny enters.)
Al: Anyway,
rest his soul.
Phil: That’s all.
Johnny: Condolences,
Tom.
Tom: He’s gone
Johnny. I don’t think you ever did meet
him.
Johnny: Ah, no. Doc’s here.
Al: (Gets up, grabs his jacket) Fuck
Hickok! And what he did to you poor
fuckin’ brother, huh?
(Whore’s
room)
Doc: This
is festered, because you won’t take a flame to your damn needle.
Whore #1: I do Doc,
every time before I use it.
Doc: Stop lyin’.
Whore #1: Anyways, I’m
quittin’.
Trixie: They
say you’re lookin’ to a little one, Doc.
Doc: How’s that
ointment workin’?
Whore #2: It’s nice
and cool on me, Doc. (Rubbing her snatch)
Doc: I’m
tryin’ just a little bit more lanolin in it.
(Al enters)
Whore #3: Hey,
give me a dollop of that! (Puts it on her pussy)
Al: How’s
that pussy lotion feel? Should I try
some on my ass?
Doc: Al.
Al: Will she
live?
Doc: Let me look
at your belly.
Whore #3: I didn’t
know you cared, Doc.
Doc: Will who
live, Al?
Al: Norwegian
kid, how many children you carin’ for?
Doc: I’m not
optimistic.
Al: I see.
Doc: Where are you
in your moons?
Whore #3: About two
weeks along.
Al: She speak
English? I mean, what’s she gotta say
for herself anyway?
Doc: She hasn’t
said a word, Al, or been conscious for a second.
Al: Oh, too
bad. She could settle who killed her
people, road agents or Sioux.
Doc: I don’t know
nothin’ about that, does that hurt?
Whore #3: Little bit.
Al: If she
does see, Doc, that’s the point. She
could settle it.
Doc: I doubt
she’ll settle anything, Al. I doubt
we’ll even know what language she spoke.
Al: Give
those girls a good goin’ over, Doc.
Look to ‘em like they’re your own.
Doc: Don’t tell me
my job or how long to do it in. I can
see to them. And I can see to the way
I’m goddamned able, and that’s all I can goddamned do!
Al: Ooh,
what’s your time of the month, huh?
(Al leaves,
Doc goes over to Trixie to check out her face.)
Trixie: Are you poorly, Doc?
Doc: Don’t worry
about me, I know what I am. What I’m
not.
(The street,
Al is walking to the Doc’s cabin, Alma watches from her hotel window. Al enters the cabin.)
Jane: What
do you want?
Al: Doc asked
me to see your patient.
Jane: What for? What do you know about it? Who the fuck are you?? (Al
looks at her and walks right by her) Hey, don’t you fuckin’ ignore me! (She
hits his back and he turns back around).
Al: You
don’t want to interfere with me.
Jane: You think I’m
scared of you?
Al: Sure you
are. If I take a knife to ya, you’ll be
scared worse and a long time dyin’.
Jane: I ain’t scared
to die. I ain’t scared of nobody. (Al
chuckles and turns back to the bed where Sophia is still asleep) Hey, you,
you, you get away, get away from her!
Le-le-leave that little one alone!
Leave her alone!
Al: (Picks up Sophia’s wrist and pinches the inside
of it – Sophia’s eye pop wide open.) Hello.
Jane: (Crying) Leave
her! Leave her. Leave her, leave her
alone, you cocksucker! Do it to me if
you have to! (Al walks past Jane – leaving).
Al: Why
would I do it to you? (He leaves and Jane breaks down in tears.)
(In the
street, the Doc is returning from the Gem and sees Al leave his cabin.)
Doc: Did
you hurt her?
Al: No. No, Doc.
But she’s better than you thought.
Her eyes are open.
(Doc hurries
to his cabin. He enters and Jane is
sitting on the edge of the bed, crying.)
Jane: I
fell apart. I couldn’t look out for the
little one. Fucker looked at me and I
fell apart in front of him.
Doc: Alright. You’re not the first.
Jane: No, I’m not the
first. Who said I was the first? You think he’s the fuckin’ first? I’ve been fucked plenty! And tougher fucks than he was and little
than her by plenty! They fucked me
plenty! So you can go fuck
yourself! (Sobbing)
Doc: Go
on, head on. I’ll look after her.
Jane: Was he a road
agent? Was he among them that did for
her family?
Doc: He owns the
Gem saloon.
Jane: Then what’s it
to him if she can open her eyes?
Doc: You go on
ahead.
Jane: Does road
agents work for him?
Doc: I’ll take
care of her.
Jane: I’m sorry, I
apologize.
Doc: You got
nothin’ to apologize for. You gotta
gift for this. You cared for her real
good.
Jane: Don’t be mean.
Doc: No. You got a gift. (Jane leaves)
(Brom enters
the Grand Central Hotel.)
EB: Mr.
Garrett? How was your day at the digs?
Brom: It
was a mixed experience, Mr. Farnum. My
claim retains every bit of its promise but, I’m afraid I’ve injured my back.
EB: All that
twisting and turning.
Brom: It’s
wrenched at least and I feel worse. I
may not be cut out for this sort of…activity.
EB: Oh,
many aren’t
Brom: Under
the circumstances, perhaps I should reconsider.
EB: What, Sir?
Brom: I
refer to your offer on my gold claim.
EB: My offer?
Brom: Last night, Mr. Farnum, before witnesses, at the Gem saloon you offered
16,000.
EB: I see.