Episode #3 – “Reconnoitering the Rim”

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(Creekside, Ellsworth’s new dog is busy digging under a tree)

Ellsworth: He’s down that hole for a fact. Pitiful as you pursued him, you better hope he ain’t got the space enough to roll around, hold his side, bust a gut laughin’. Tell all the other woodchucks at the club this afternoon…he might not even call it a escape. Might just call it his morning’s entertainment.

Dan: Hey! Hey, Ellsworth!

Ellsworth: Hey, Dan Dority! (Dog goes to hide.) Where’s the great prospector?

Dan: I guess Brom slept in this morning.

Ellsworth: Suppose his enthusiasm’s on the wane?

Dan: That’s always possible. He shows up, you tell him I quit waitin’.

Ellsworth: Sure will.

Dan: See ya at the Gem. (Walks away)

Ellsworth: Always possible. (To the dog) Gone! (Dog returns)

(At the cemetery, Tom Mason’s funeral)

Rev: The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof. The world and they that dwell therein. For He hath founded it upon the seas and established it upon the floods. (Merrick sneezing) Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? Or who shall stand (Merrick sneezing) in his holy place? He that, that hath a clean hands (Rev hands Merrick a hankerchief) and a pure heart. Who hath not lifted up his soul. Unto vanity nor sworn beseechfully. He, he shall receive the blessing from the Lord, and (Seth turns and sees Charlie Utter and Calamity Jane returning with Sophia cradled in Jane’s arms) justice from the God of his salvation. Lift up your heads, oh ye gates and be ye lifted up ye everlasting doors, and the King of glory shall come in. Who is the King of glory? The Lord of hosts. He is the King of glory.

(The camera pans down, Wagons are entering the camp carrying Cy Tolliver and the Bella Union whores.)

Various Male Voices: Selah! (Cheering) What’s yer name!? Hey! What’s yer name!?

( Al watches from his balcony. Cy is now supervising the hanging of the new BellaUnion sign)

(Graveside again) 

Rev: Everyone proud in heart is an abomination to the Lord. Though hand join in hand, he shall not be unpunished. (Merrick sneezing) By mercy and truth is inequity purged. And by the fear of the Lord, do men depart from evil. A man’s ways please the Lord, when he maketh even his enemies to be at peace with him. (Rev and Seth exchange looks) Amen.

Merrick: Amen.

Seth: Thank you (Shakes hands with the pallbearers) Thanks for your help.

Merrick: May we edify my readers, Mr. Bullock?

Seth: I don’t know what edify means.

Merrick: Can we talk about last night’s gunfight?

Seth: (Grabbing a shovel) No.

Merrick: We can’t talk about last night’s gunfight, either. (Merrick grabs a shovel.)

(Street, Al emerges from the Gem Saloon. The former owner of the now-BellaUnion is loading a wagon)

Al: What the fuck?!

EB: All’s I can speculate, Al, is whoever these Bella Union people are, they bought Artie Simpson’s place on the quiet. Pre-arranged turnin’ it into a joint.

Al: This no good fucking Judas! (pointing) Hey, fucknut!

Artie:Just take it easy, Al. (Loading his wagon)

Al: How long you been hatchin’ this fuckin’ plot?

Artie: I made a practical goddamned business decision.

Al: No chance for me to match their fuckin’ offer?

Artie: You couldn’t have. (Climbs up onto the wagon) You’da killed me before you’d matched. But it’s between you and them now. (Sol looks on)

Al: Drive careful, cocksucker!

Artie: Don’t think I haven’t taken precaution. Don’t think I don’t know your mind!

(Wagon pulls off. Sol approaches Al as he’s walking away)

Sol: I hate to press you on that lot, Mr. Swearengen.

Al: I ain’t ready to settle yet.

Sol: Just, we’re anxious to start building.

Al: If you want an answer now, it’s no.

(At Nuttall’s #10, Wild Bill is playing poker.)

Wild Bill: Two.

Jack McCall: Same for me. Only better.

Stapleton: Yeah, three the dealer, dealer draws. Trench mouth. Opener bets.

Jack: Well damn, Wild Bill. Even a stopped clock’s gotta be right sometime. Common law just says you gonna win one sooner or later. But I’m gonna keep pushin’ my luck. What do you got there? Eight dollars. Are you ready to stand anymore credit to Wild Bill here, Tom?

Nuttall: I didn’t hear him ask for any.

Jack: You want me just bet eight, Bill?

(Bill takes one of his revolvers out of its holster and lays it on the table.)

Wild Bill: May it cover my call.

Jack: Ah, Bill, I can’t let you put your gun up. That colt’s worth more than my raise by a good 40 bucks.

Wild Bill: Are you takin’ the bet?

Jack: I tell you what, I’ll add 40 bucks to my raise, make the bet fair. And then 50 more, if you’ll put up a set.

(Wild Bills draws the other colt quickly. Jack ducks to the side.Bill puts the gun down next to the other.)

Stapleton: Pot’s right.

Jack: (Lays down his cards) Would a nine high straight do the trick?

(Wild Bill lays down his cards, not taking his eyes off Jack)

Stapleton: Pot to the club flush.

Jack: Well that’s one in a row for you, Wild Bill. Who’s hungry? What in the hell damn time is it anyway?

Wild Bill: Sure you wanna quit playing, Jack? The game’s always between you and gettin’ called a cunt.

Nuttall: Ah, meetin’ adjourned, fellas, take it outside.

Wild Bill: That dropped eye of your looks like the hood of a cunt to me, Jack. When you talk, your mouth looks like a cunt moving.

Jack: I ain’t gonna get in no gunfight with you, Hickok.

Wild Bill: But you will run your cunt mouth at me. And I will take it to play poker.

Nuttall: I’ll tote up accounts, Mr. Hickok ah, we’ll do whatever rest business we need to next you’re in.

Wild Bill: Anyone wants to, can find me at the Grand Central.

(Grand Central, Utter’s room, Sophia is laying down)

Jane: She’s warm isn’t she?

Utter: She ain’t talk yet, neither.

Jane: That’s beside the point, you shut up!

Doc: She will get fever, bein’ wolf bit.

Jane: And the reason we risked bringin’ her into camp…

Doc: You don’t need to fear the saloonkeeper. He’s not a danger to her no more.

Jane: He’s not?

Doc: Saloonkeeper worried that the little one said that road agents killed her people. Who the road agents might say they worked for.

Jane: Meaning, him?

Doc: He took a different approach to the problem. She would do better indoors.

Utter: I told Jane she could take my room with the little one, and I’d move back in with Bill.

Jane: Will not stay in no fuckin’ hotel! They don’t want me. They won’t give me a room.

Doc: You two keep your voices down. (Doc pours medicine into a spoon, gives it to Sophia)

Jane: What’d I say about noise? He snores the whole fuckin’ night!

Utter: Snorin’s past a person’s control.

(Street, Seth and the Reverend are walking back to the tent)

Rev: I was a field nurse during the war. At Shiloh in Sanko Manassas. That was a good deal of violence.

Seth: Is that when you got your callin’?

Rev: Yes, it was, Sir. Out of that crucible out of all that horror to come to God’s grace. A-a man’s heart deviseth his way, but the Lord, directeth his steps. H-he directeth all our steps, Mr. Bullock. All of us.

Seth: If your preachin’ at me, Reverend, you need to put some more light on the text.

Rev: If I am preaching at you, sir, I do you a disservice. Good Morning, Mr. Star.

Sol: Good Morning, Reverend.

Seth: Can we get the lot? Can we start buildin’? The Reverend’s come to help.

Sol: We’re still hangin’ fire.

Seth: What’s the damn holdup?

Sol: New gambling outfit come into town, Seth. Time wasn’t right to push and do a decision.

Seth: I got all the lumber cut.

Sol: And I warned you that was premature.

Seth: You said 98 percent, after your last conversation with that sonofabitch.

Sol: 98 is not a hundred.

Seth: Goddamnit! (Oops! Turns his head toward the Rev.)

Rev: Good day, Sirs.

Sol: Good day, Reverend!

(Street facing the Bella Union – we hear Jane talking before the camera goes inside the

Grand Central)

Jane: I said they’d find a way to stop me.

Utter: If it’s raisin’ room rates, you have to go ahead and raise ‘em.

EB: Rates aren’t the only factor. There’s a waiting list for occupancy.

Jane: You undertaker lookin’ sonofabitch. This little girl’s doctor ordered to live indoors and I’m assigned to change her dressings!

EB:A sad story, that’s none of my affair, Madam. If I guess your sex correct?

Wild Bill: (Entering) What’s the problem, innkeeper?

EB: Mr. Hickok.

Utter: Little one took fever in that wagon last night, Bill. (Brom coming down the stairs, pauses) And I thought Jane and her could stay in my room and, I’d move back in with you.

EB: I’m not in opposition, sir. Just the opposite. Who wouldn’t want to accommodate a sick little girl? But the Simpson Hotel’s closed its doors. If Mr. Utter is vacating, shouldn’t these people that have been trying me all morning get first call? Isn’t that simple fairness?

Jane: He don’t give a fuck all for fairness! He just don’t want me in here.

Wild Bill: Well how ‘bout if he stays in his room and the lady moves in with me? (Jane nuzzles Sophia’s neck) That way no one’s vacating nothing.

EB: That would outflank the checkout issue. But it might raise questions of decorum.

Wild Bill: With who?

EB: No one of consequence I suppose.

Wild Bill: Let her in. I’m goin’ to get some breakfast.

EB: There will be a rate adjustment. (Jane eyes EB)

Brom: (Coming down the stairs) Good morning.

EB: I’ve heard the stories, Madam, I tell you that at flag fall. You are here on sufferance.

Jane: Kiss my ass! (They go upstairs)

(Gem, in Al’s bedroom, Al is seated, Trixie is brushing his coat)

Al: Cocksuckers. Where were they when Dan and me were, chopping trees in this gulch? Hands all blistered. Bucktooth fuckin’ beavers rolling around in the creek. Slappin’ their tails in the water like we was hired entertainment.

Trixie: I’d pay a nickel to see you choppin’ wood.

Al: Yeah. Don’t think I wasn’t blow for blow with Dan. (Trixie helps him put on his jacket) I can play that shit when I have to. (Straightens his tie) But I been to Chicago, too. (Turns around, puts his arms out) How do I look?

Trixie: Like Christ crucified.

---

(Al enters the Bella Union)

Al: Guess this ain’t a hotel no more.

Joanie: Come see us tonight when we open. We’ll find ya a place to lay down.

Cy:And someone to keep your feet warm.

Al: I’m Al Swearengen. (Puts hand out) I own the joint across the street.

Eddie: The Gem?

Al: That’s it.

Cy: Cy Tolliver, Al. Ed Sawyer, Joanie Stubbs.

Al: You people must’ve trained with the heathens. Yeah, you know, you come up on us unbeknownst.

Cy: How long you been in camp, Al?

Al: Well, this year, Cy, since March. I was here last year, too. But the fuckin’ cavalry drove us out.

Cy: Butt all the whites out, didn’t they?

Al: Oh deep fuckin’ thinkers in Washington put forward that policy. This year though, so many soldiers desertin’ to prospect, give up the ghost let us all back in. And of course, Custer sorted out the fuckin’ Sioux for us, so now we’re all as safe as in our mother’s tits.

Cy: Did a job for our side, didn’t he, Al?

Al: How ‘bout that long haired fuckin’ blowhard, huh? I’ll tell you this, son, you can mark my words. Crazy Horse went into Little Big Horn, bought his people one good long term ass fuckin’. You do not want to be a dirt worshipping heathen, from this fucking point forward. (Turns to Joanie) Pardon my French.

Joanie: Oh I speak French.

Al: Well, here we are, settin’ in the world’s problems and I been wonderin’, Cy, um, perhaps we should talk about our areas of overlap so we’re not at each other’s throats, huh?

Cy: Give me a for instance, Al.

Al: Ah, women. Would we want to agree on rates?

Joanie: Well, far as pussy, Al, we’ll want to let the market sort itself out.

Al: Sounds to me like I’m up against specialty acts. How ‘bout table games? Any overlap there?

Eddie: We’ll be featuring craps, Al.

Al: I played that in Chicago. I don’t offer it myself, gets these hoople heads confused, hmm? That’s one area of overlap avoided. What about faro?

Eddie: We’ll have it.

Al: That decision hard and fast?

Cy: I just don’t see overlap bein’ a problem, Al. Even where we duplicate. We’re offerin’ differing atmosphere, you’re a pioneerin’ type, a trailblazer type. You’re gonna draw a trailblazin’ element.

Al: Meanin’ I get the one’s that don’t wash?

Eddie: Must cut through the stink though when they walk in with those sacks full of gold.

Al: Oh, the money spends definitely.

Cy: Anyways, thanks for the neighborly visit.

Al: Yeah, good to meet you. Very good luck to you. You’re opening at eight o’clock, huh?

Eddie: That’s what we’re aimin’ at.

Al: Eight o’clock. Good for you. (Al leaves)

Eddie: Wouldn’t set a fire right away.

Cy: Come to cases, though, he would set a fire. (Watching Al leave – in the street, Al turns and looks up at the sign)

(Grand Central dining room)

Wild Bill: Way you tell it, Mister, man didn’t sell you that claim holding a gun to your head.

Brom: And frankly, Mr. Hickok, being a novice in these matters, I was duped. And now the seller’s disappeared. You checked into his room. (Looking at Charlie)

Utter: Sound like you’re up shit’s creek.

Brom: Seller had accomplices, gentlemen. Men of…what passes for position in this place. Now I would pay a handsome bounty, if they were brought to make restitutions.

Wild Bill: Sorry you lost your money, Mister. But I ain’t for hire to rob it back.

Brom: I make no terms as to method.

Wild Bill: You don’t figure a good talkin’ to would do the trick?

Brom: I’m not leaving camp…without my money.

Utter: Mister, that fella you said had my room before me?

Brom: Yeah, a man named Tim Driscoll, yes, pure charlatan.

Utter: Fresh stain on the floor when I moved in. He may a checked out, short a useful amount of blood.

Brom: Wouldn’t surprise me in the least.

Utter: That would make these accomplices you’re talkin’ about, dangerous people to deal with.

Brom: Yes, I quite take your point. No honor among thieves. Well…thanks for your time. I’ll pursue my remedies in some other fashion. (Brom leaves)

Wild Bill: I don’t think he took you point…quite.

Utter: I think he quite missed it.

Wild Bill: I believe I’ll pass out, Charlie.

Utter: I guess you were playin’ poker all night, huh?

Wild Bill: Yes, Sir.

Utter: When we was comin’ into camp I saw that ah, Montana fella you seemed to like.

Wild Bill: Bullock had my back again last night.

Utter: Why, he was seein’ to the results this mornin’.

Wild Bill: Man has an act of conscience.

Utter: What would you think of us and him and his friend ah, havin’ dinner tonight?

Wild Bill: Why?

Utter: People gotta eat, don’t they, Bill? And maybe you’d enjoy sittin’ with someone who wasn’t lookin’ to beat you at cards. Or blow your fuckin’ head off.

Wild Bill: True enough. Mark me down for a yes. (Wild Bill heads upstairs)

(Al’s office, Al is sitting at his desk with Johnny, EB and Jimmy Irons.)

Al: I want to know who did that legwork.

EB: You hit the nail square, Al. Whoever went between them Bella Union people and Artie Simpson would be a prime source of information.

Al: Do not repeat back to me, what I just said in different fuckin’ words! And I wanna know who cut the cheese? (Al, makinga face – goes to the balcony doors) I’ll tell you this for openers. We are gonna set off and area on the balcony. (Opens doors) And God help whoever doesn’t use it because the next stink I have to smell in this office, and whoever doesn’t admit to it is going out the window, into the muck onto their fuckin’ heads and we’ll see how they like fartin’ from that position. Okay? (High mocking voice) Oh, I hate to press you on the lot, Mr. Swearengen. (normal) Wouldn’t that be a setup If they were all of the same fuckin’ party?

EB: You think them hardware guys and Hickok, might be the advance party for them saloon operators, Al?

Al: You just did the same fucking thing I told you not to. (Turns head to Johnny) Get them two, say I’m ready to conclude on their offer. Stop at Wu’s on the way. (Johnny jumps up from his chair to leave) Tell him either he feeds his pigs Persimmon Phil tonight, or I serve him…raw loin of oriental.

Johnny: I though you forgot all about that, Al. I thought it just sorta slipped through the cracks. (leaves)

Al: (To Jimmy) Faro dude at the new joint. Dope fiend. Tall guy skanky red beard.

Jimmy:You want me to get next to him, Mr. Swearengen? Let me take a few dollars, I’ll go play at his table.

Al: Stop hustling. I’ll give you dope when you bring that cocksucker here.

Jimmy: He’s as good as standin’ in front of you, Mr. Swearengen. (Jimmy gets up and leaves. EB stands up also – Al puts his hand out to stop him.)

Al: Stick around. (EB sits, Al sits in the chair next to him) Help me measure where their loyalties lie.

EB:These hardware guys? (Al shuts his eyes and sighs)

(The Garret’s room at the hotel…)

Brom: The burden falls on me, Alma. That much is now clear.

Alma: Do you think there’s any possibility that Mr. Hickok might reconsider? (Brom gets up)

Brom: None. Nor was I sure that, if he’d agreed the man before me at that breakfast table was equal to the task. (Alma gets up and stands behind Brom, putting her arm around him)

Alma: Promise me one thing then, Brom.

Brom: Don’t ask me to amend my purpose.

Alma: That before seeing Mr. Swearengen, you take your walk. (Brom turns and hugs Alma)

Brom: To clear my head and reflect?

Alma: If only to perfect your arguments.

Brom: I see. I accept the suggestion and a feeling for it’s author.

Alma: Thank you.

Brom: If I’m stooped when next you see me, Alma, won’t be worry weighing me down, but bags of our recovered gold.

Alma: Take your walk, dear.

(Brom hugs her again and leaves, as Alma is shutting the door she sees Jane peeking out from behind her own door, their eyes lock for a moment and Alma opens her door wider as if to speak, Jane quickly slams her door shut. Brom is bent over looking at something –Wild Bill Hickok who’s sleeping on the landing.)

Brom: It’s Hickok, Alma. Unconscious.

Alma: I see.

Brom: I take this as proof my reservations were well founded.

(Alma shuts the door and walks over to her vanity and prepares another drink)

(Hickok’s room, Jane is talking to Sophia, who is sleeping)

Jane: Too considerate to disturb us. Wouldn’t have truck with that…room clerk ghoul to get let into Charlie’s rather than sleep in the fuckin’ hallway, that’s the kind of man he is. I own you another fuckin’ penny. Owe you another one. I don’t know if you should ever learn English, never mind foul, spare you knowin’ how ignorant people are. But then I could tell you about Bill…sleepin’ in the hallway out a thought for others. And I know some other fuckin’ stories too. Owe you another penny.

(Street, Jack McCall is checking out the goods at Sol & Seth’s tent.)

Seth: Look at that jackass.

Sol: Help you with anything?

Jack: I tell ya, he’s bein’ done a favor this exact moment. Or would you care to take a guess. A favor in this tent.

Sol: I’d guess it’s you doin’ one for yourself, Sir, considering quality goods.

Jack: Favor here’s bein’ done for Wild Bill fuckin’ Hickok.

Seth: What are you talking about?

Jack: ‘Cause if I’m out prospectin’ in the hills, then he ain’t gettin’ his just desserts. At the poker table or otherwise. Don’t ask me what I mean by the last part.

Seth: What do you mean?

Jack: And I said you’d do better not askin’.

Seth: Get outta here.

Jack: I’ll buy this one. What’s the price on that?

Seth: You ain’t buyin’ nothin’. (Jack turns around and sees Charlie)

Jack: I know you. Where I know you from?

Utter: Can’t help you with that, partner.

Jack: You follow him around. (Laughs. Seth grabs him and runs him forward, tossing him in the muck) Hey!

Seth: That tent’s shut to you. Don’t come back there.

Jack: (talking to himself) Fuck you. Any plans I might’ve had to buy somethin’, or prospect.

Utter: I’d be lousy at retail. I guarantee you that much. Wouldn’t have the patience for it.

Sol: I’m not sure how much future he’s got.

Utter: Anyways I want to tell you fellas, several days I’ll be goin’ back to Cheyenne. Try and secure a mail route. I operate a freight business outta there. You need re-supply, I’ll be bringin’ several wagons back.

Sol: That’s good to know.

Utter: And ah, I was, ah (takes hat off) half wonderin’ too if…if you’d want to join Bill and me for dinner. Tonight or some other time.

Seth: Let’s do it tonight.

Utter: Feel like I should’ve brung posies. (Johnny approaches.)

Sol: Afternoon. Can I help you find something?

Johnny: Mr. Swearengen wants to see ya. (Leaves)

(Alma is looking out the window, drink in hand, she sees Brom approach the Gem, he pauses, puffing a cigar, then continues on his walk.)

(Gem, Al is seated downstairs with Sol and Seth. Dan and EB are seated on either side of Al,

nearby but not at the table.)

Al: I only hope you understand my being short with you out in the street this morning.

Sol: You had a lot on your mind.

Al: I had a lot of what’s left of my fucking mind, these new interests coming in. I only hope you understand and see my thinking in not selling you that lot outright.

Seth: What’s your thinkin’ today?

Al: Gets dead set at the fucking point which I like in most situations. Do you know these new saloon interests? Are you acquainted with them at all?

Sol: Nope.

Seth: Not them and not Bill Hickok. And all we want to do is run a hardware business.

Al: I have got to be satisfied. See, I’m the simple type cocksucker. That when he sees lightening, readies for thunder. And takes the thunder if it comes from part of the same fuckin’ storm.

Sol: Why wouldn’t ya, Mr. Swearengen?

Al: Well thank you for sayin’ that, even if you don’t fuckin’ mean it.

Seth: What would make you comfortable sellin’ to us? (Al looks at EB, EB raises his head and eyebrows)

Al: Thousand. Plus right of first refusal on any further sale.

Sol: Accepted.

Al: And right to buy back at the original price, plus the cost of your improvements.

Sol: Accepted.

Al: No gambling on the fuckin’ premises. No association of any kind with these Bella Union cocksuckers.

Sol: Accepted.

Seth: We can’t sell ‘em our goods?

Al: No. What do you think of that?

Sol: Accepted.

Al: What do you think?

Seth:(pauses) Accepted.

Al: Or, they could buy your wares in your normal course of your normal fucking business. I’d guess it’d be okay to transact with these cocksuckers.

Seth:So we can sell ‘em our wares?

Al: Your normal fucking wares. No gambling, whoring or whiskey on the fucking premises is the chief fucking point.

Sol: Agreed. (Puts his hand out)

Al: I spit in my hand. (Does so) Will that drive you screaming into the hills? (Sol spits in his own hand and they shake, Al then shakes with Seth – hmm, no spit there) The ah, thousand’d be nice.

Sol: (counting) 20, 40, 60, 80, 100

EB: Happy outcome.

Sol: 20, 40, 60, 80, 200…

(Street, Charlie is talking to the Soap Guy)

Soap Guy: A shootin’ exhibition.

Utter: That idea for Mr. Hickok’s been had and acted upon. By a few people before you.

Soap Guy: And then, afterward, we cut the bullets out. And (Charlie spots EB leaving the Gem) the fuckin’ playin’ cards he was usin’ as targets. That’s the point I was tryin’ to get to.

Utter: How ‘bout the tree bark (Seth and Sol emerge) behind the fuckin’ playing card targets, huh? (walks away towards Seth & Sol)

Soap Guy: (running after Charlie) Hell, yeah, we’ll sell the fuckin’ bark.

Utter: What do you say, fellas?

Sol: We got our lot, Mr. Utter.

Utter: Well, Hooray for you boys.

Soap Guy: Two days, for me to get the word out. 10 cents to watch, and we’ll charge for the souvenirs.

Utter: I ain’t gonna take you up on that, Mister.

Soap Guy: Another 20 for you on the quiet.

Utter: No. And the talk between us is over.

Soap Guy: Soap! Soap with a prize inside! (walking away) Soap!

Utter: Got that man to sell, ah?

Sol: Never had to strain to spend a thousand dollars.

Seth: Will you let us outta dinner?

Utter: You a soon not do it, ah?

Seth: We’d like to get to buildin’.

Sol: Will we see you tomorrow for breakfast?

Utter: Sure. Maybe we’ll catch Bill comin’ back from cards, huh? Well ah, congratulations to both of ya.

Sol: Thanks, Mr. Utter. (Shakes hands with Charlie)

Seth: Thank you. (Shakes hands with him as well)

Utter: Ah, good luck to ya. (Leaves)

Sol: Looks like we’re in business, huh?

(We see EB sneaking into the Bella Union)

EB: My goodness, my heavens. My goodness gracious. Heaven’s to Betsy.

Eddie: What do you think? Hiram, ever seen a craps layout?

EB: My first.

Eddie: Shall I show you how it works?

EB: I might could follow. I do, read and cipher.

Eddie: Well, you’re well on advance of the pack. Tell me what this says.

EB: C-O-M-E. It says “come.”

Eddie: You really can read, can’t ya?

EB: I wasn’t raised to lie. I’m liable to be killed, Eddie. He’s on my scent and closin’.

Eddie: Curious tactics your comin’ here then, E.B.

EB: To remind you secrecy’s of the essence. Al Swearengen’s a dangerous man. Let him doubt those he’s trusted, this camp will run red with blood.

Eddie: Argues for raising your room rates, at least make the game worth the candle.

EB: I wonder how cavalier your attitude’ll be with a pig gnawing through your vitals.

Eddie: Bet on me screaming for mercy.

EB: urn down your offer to buy and pointed you to Artie Simpson. Whole damn extent of my involvement. And I’m starin’ straight at extinction.

Eddie: He may get you anyway, E.B., but if your nerve goes, he’ll get you sure.

(Al’s office, Jimmy has brought Leon to see him)

Al: Now, dope is not my own preferred form of relaxation, but I did try the shit and believe me…I nearly converted.

Leon: And Jimmy said you’d do right by me, Mr. Swearengen.

Al: Everything…that goes on at that place.

Leon: I’ll give you a daily report.

Al: Yeah. (Hands Leon the dope and walks to the window. He sees E.B. emerge from the Bella Union, E.B. pockets something. Al’s face changes.) He’s the type I’d wanna know about. Just left your joint. Judas goat lookin’ fella. (Grabs Leon’s head and holds it looking out the window) Hey, you see him? Coyote movin’ type? You see him?

Leon: The short guy?

Al: Yeah, with is paws always damp like he just shit fuckin’ turd. That’s the type I’d wanna know about. Comings, goings, and dealings with your bosses.

Leon: I keep a special eye on him.

Johnny: Al?

Al: Yeah.

Johnny: That cherry New York dude is downstairs askin’ for ya.

Al: No good. Charlie him the fuck out. (Johnny approaches Al’s side)

Johnny: He keeps talkin’ about the Pinkertons.

(Downstairs, Brom is smoking his cigar)

Al: Dan Dority, thought you were dead.

Brom: Yes, I didn’t go to the claim this morning.

Al: You should’ve told him. I’ve had him here the last several hours in tears. Dan! Look! He’s alive!

Dan: Thank God.

Brom: Yeas, I chose not to go to the claim.

Al: Whiskey Brom, snatch?

Brom: Frankly, Al, I’m here to speak with you. And I’m not to be distracted.

Al: Then proceed, my son, speak frankly.

Brom: We needn’t reach the question of whether my claim has…pinched out, as the saying goes. Or whether it was a sham proposition to begin with. Let’s just say, I’ve lost faith in the property. (Dan. Listening, sits down close the conversation)

Al: