Mr. Goodnight?
Mr. Goodnight, I have a 9:00 appointment!
Yeah.
Mr. Goodnight, I have a 9:00 appointment!
Yeah, just a minute.
I'll be right with you.
Yeah.
- You're Goodnight? - Yeah.
Morgan, right?
Come on in. I'll be right with you.
I'll be with you guys momentarily.
I was expecting someone a little more, um...
Lawyerly? Yeah, I can't say I blame you.
Thing is, I was up all night on a case.
No cause for concern.
You'll get your money's worth, I assure you.
So, uh, it's true you've never lost a trial?
So far.
What can I do for you?
Um, I need a patent.
So, you're an inventor?
I'm just an ordinary man with an idea.
Well, every man is ordinary until he does an extraordinary thing.
Right.
May I speak frankly?
Of course.
I'm not entirely sure if my invention is 100% original.
Well, Shakespeare borrowed all but three or four of his ideas.
That puts you in pretty good company.
Uh, excuse me. I'm in a meeting here.
John William Goodnight, you're under arrest.
For what?
For disturbing the peace, public drunkenness,
illegal gambling,
and destruction of property... rooms 13, 47, and 49,
The Drake Hotel.
That, yes. Well, I will take care of those damages right here.
So, um...
Uh, Mr. Morgan, I'll be in touch.
Okay.
You Goodnight?
Stand aside. This man's under arrest.
Not anymore.
You wanted to see me, sir?
Do you know why you're here?
I have a few ideas, most of them unpleasant.
I believe the word is "unprofessional."
I can't argue with that.
Tell me...
do you like being a lawyer, Mr. Goodnight?
Well, sir, while I-I have a great deal of respect for the law,
I can't, uh, I can't say the same for lawyers, myself included.
And why is that?
For a lawyer, justice is inconsequential.
Victory is paramount.
Mm.
And you are tired of winning?
Well, you can be happy to know that
your winning streak has come to an end.
You will no longer be practicing law in the state of Illinois.
Are you, uh, taking away my license?
No.
Not quite.
Put your hand on the Bible.
It is with the power vested in me by the President of the United States
that I hereby appoint you, John William Goodnight,
to the position of Circuit Judge in the Wyoming Territory...
...where you can continue to demonstrate
your respect for the law,
and perhaps find some respect for yourself.
Do you accept?
Do I have a choice?
No.
You know what I will miss the most?
Looking out there at all that land and sky
knowing it once was ours.
We could sell my ring.
You've already given up enough.
We all have.
It could buy us another month.
Another month without rain ain't gonna grow those crops.
Besides, there are some things that ain't to be sold.
Like what?
A wedding ring.
And a man's soul.
We did our best out here. There will be other times.
I know.
Grab your things. Don't want to miss the stage.
You keep hold of that, Johnny.
You don't let it break...
okay?
I got to go.
Where's the stagecoach?
This town doesn't have one, son.
We'll ride out on this and catch a stage in Laramie.
We got enough for candy?
- Can I help you? - How much for candy?
How much you got?
- Grab a handful. - Thank you, sir.
I always go for the peppermint.
On your way, Judge?
Worn out my welcome, I think.
Well, not in my book. That piece of dirt deserved to be hanged.
I hope so.
Looks like we'll be traveling together.
Aldous Shaw, Circuit Judge. My wife, Rebecca.
William and Anna Goodnight.
- Pleased to meet you. - Where you folks headed?
- John. - Oh.
- Where are you folks headed? - Back east.
I'm afraid we just didn't get lucky out here.
Droughts one year, floods the next.
Don't feel bad. This is a hard country.
I've seen a lot of good people come and go.
A true man is someone who does right by his family,
no matter where that takes him.
Thank you, sir.
- Fred. - Judge.
Rebecca.
John.
Mrs. Goodnight.
Do you have children, Mrs. Shaw?
Sadly, no.
With the judge gone so much, we just...
Well, no child should grow up without a father.
Though I often wonder if we made the right decision.
Oh, I'm sure you're blessed in other ways.
That we are.
Still, looking at your boy,
I can't help but think what we've missed.
He's a good boy.
- He's very handsome. - Yes.
Is that a six-gun?
Yes, it is.
You a good shot?
Not bad.
I shot a can off a fence post with my pa's Winchester.
Son, with a gun like that, he's not shooting at cans.
You ever kill anyone?
Son, watch your manners!
No, it's a fair question.
I have killed, to uphold the law,
and when you pull a gun like this,
chances are someone's gonna be shooting back.
A man has to figure out what he's willing to sacrifice
in order to do what he knows is right.
I never met anyone who talks like you.
Well, when a person's life is in your hands,
you owe it to them to be as good with your words
as you are with a gun.
So, if you don't shoot them, you can talk them to death?
What's got into you? Apologize to the judge. Go on.
No, not necessary.
You know who said almost that very same thing to me?
Abe Lincoln.
You met President Lincoln?
We rode circuit together back in Illinois,
before he was president.
Looks like you live a charmed life, Judge.
Looks can be deceiving.
Driver, bandits!
Who are they?
I hanged one of their men back in town.
I'm afraid they're looking for blood, not justice.
- Get down! Get down! - On the floor!
Faster, driver, faster!
Hyah! Hyah!
Hold on!
Mary!
Mr. Goodnight...
The Governor's offices are closing now.
Where on Earth did you find tulips in autumn?
Well, it wasn't in the Wyoming Territory,
I can tell you that.
So, you saw the Governor?
- He's different than I thought. - More talkative, I imagine.
Oh, yes, he's a real chatterbox.
In fact, I'm pretty sure he told me everything you wanted him to.
He always was very good at taking directions.
Better than me, you mean.
You're angry with me, John.
It's just that the Wyoming Territory
is the most dangerous, lawless place in America.
The last three judges there met with an untimely death.
You're just as likely to meet with one here, the way you've been living.
You know, I always hoped you might settle down,
raise a family of your own...
...but you haven't, and you won't...
...not here, not like this.
Because beneath all that fast talk and fancy clothes
and big-city manners,
you're still the same tortured boy...
...and I fear you will never have peace until you have justice.
It's been my blessing to raise you, John.
The blessing is mine. You gave me a life.
You lost your parents, I lost my husband,
but we have each other.
Now, go out there
and find that killer.
Make him pay.
There's no guarantee I'll find him.
He may be dead already.
That will save you the trouble, then.
Just remember, there's a difference between justice and revenge.
Aldous knew that.
And when the time comes...
...you'll know it, too.
Will I?
Because after all this time, I still dream about killing him.
I do, too.
But there are bigger dreams to have.
This is the knife that killed Aldous.
This is for hanging my friend, Judge.
These are yours now.
Aldous carried this gavel for 20 years,
calling order in every manner of court you can imagine.
He always said you needed order to respect the law,
and the sound of this gavel in his capable hand
would bring that order.
Some people do not heed the call of the gavel.
They come reluctantly to justice.
And for those who require it a little more,
that same capable hand would guide them...
...with this.
Oh, John.
Good luck.
Will the, uh, court come to order?
The Honorable John William Goodnight presiding.
First case.
??? ...
Yes? What seems to be the problem?
What brings you lovebirds to court today?
Trouble in paradise?
We have a bathtub problem.
Yeah, a big problem.
Bathtub?
- That's right. - Yeah.
This beanpole poor excuse of a man
insists on taking his bath first,
and he's so dirty that, by the time it's my turn,
the water's so filthy, I might as well go bathe with the pigs!
Well, she's so big
that, if she goes first, by the time she's done,
there's no water left!
Have you considered the possibility
of taking your baths on different days?
Huh?
For instance, Ma'am, you take your bath on a Monday.
Sir... you take yours on Wednesdays.
Wednesdays?
And Fridays.
That's my ruling. Next case.
- Well, that's why he's the judge. - I'll snap your neck like a chicken.
...that will be a $1 fine and 5 days in jail...
...I sentence you to 3 years' hard labor...
Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but?
...3 years' hard labor.
Order! Order! Order, please!
Case dismissed! You're free to go!
May God have mercy on your soul.
Please take the witness stand.
It's been my experience
that people who exhibit such open contempt for the law
have generally just broken it.
Well, I ain't done nothing wrong.
Section 94 of the Wyoming Legislature
prohibits public spitting.
That's 3 days in jail and a $1 fine.
So, you're gonna jail me for spitting?
Son, your incarceration will be a result of your own stupidity.
Now, I'm gonna read the charges off this docket.
You tell me which other ones you're guilty of.
Arson.
Assault.
Trespassing.
Stealing chicke...
Stealing chickens?
You know, I could maybe forgive that if it were one chicken,
but you stole eight chickens,
and from a widow, no less.
He did that, Judge.
I'm ordering you to replace the birds...
Praise be.
...and clean the public spittoons for 90 days.
Oh, thank you, Judge! Thank you! Thank you!
Next case.
Whiskey.
Leave the bottle.
I'm looking for someone.
I figure you see everyone that comes through here.
The ones that drink, anyway.
It's a good bet the man I'm after drinks.
He'd be about 50.
Took a bullet in the leg, dragging a limp.
A lot of men come through here with limps.
On account of the war, mostly.
You recognize this?
What did he do?
Shot up a wagonload of people in cold blood.
You're a bounty hunter.
No.
I'm the judge.
My apologies, Your Honor.
I'll, uh, be sure to keep a sharp lookout.
You do that.
You know, Your Honor,
I do have a little something you might be interested in.
One of my girls is on trial.
You know, for what they pay me, I could use a little extra cash...
...and I have been known to do things I shouldn't...
...but unfortunately for you, I don't take bribes.
Well, she's a real nice girl, Your Honor.
Pretty, too.
Well, then, I look forward to seeing every one of her virtues...
in my courtroom.
Uh, first case...
Jones versus Landry.
Miss Landry, you've been accused of stabbing Mr. Jones in the hand.
How do you plead?
I'm innocent.
I'd like to hear from both parties.
Mr. Jones, you first.
Thank you, Your Honor.
I was returning home after a social drink with my colleagues
when this floozy appeared out of nowhere and stabbed me.
Now, this heinous and unprovoked act
has rendered me unable to use my right hand,
preventing me from exercising my duties at the bank
and causing my wife undue anxiety.
I see.
So, it is your testimony, then, that she stabbed you for no reason.
That's right.
Sit down and tend to your heinous and unprovoked wound.
Miss Landry, did you stab Mr. Jones?
Yes.
But I had to.
I didn't know how else to make him stop.
- Stop what? - He attacked me.
Oh! That's a lie!
Look, I may be a lot of things, but a liar isn't one of them.
You were drunk, and you waited for me outside the saloon,
and you tried to take advantage of me,
and when I said no, you hit me!
I did no such...
I did no such thing.
I am a pillar of this community.
Thank you very much for reminding me.
I'm ready to render a verdict.
Whenever I've had to stab someone,
it's, uh, usually been in the gut or the chest,
but Miss Landry here, she appears to be a very robust young woman.
Now, if she had wanted to inflict a more serious level of damage
on Mr. Jones,
it seems to me apparent that she could have.
She could have stabbed him in a more dire place, for example.
Instead,
he appears here today in this courtroom with a wound on his hand.
It appears to be a defensive wound.
While I find there is often reason to stab a drunk man,
there is never good reason to hit a woman.
Miss Landry, the charges are dismissed, and you're free to go.
Mr. Jones, you're also free to go... home with your wife,
and when you get there,
check your kitchen knives and make sure that they're dull,
in the very likely event that she may want to stab you, too.
What about my hand?
Use the other one. Next case.
I thought you didn't take bribes.
If it happens after the trial, it ain't no bribe.
What's going on?
Murder trials are pretty popular around here.
I'm sorry to hear that.
He hated my father because of the color of his skin.
He said he'd kill him if he ever stepped foot in his restaurant again.
When was the last time you saw your father?
About two weeks ago. My baby brother took sick.
Papa went into town to fetch him some milk.
He never came back.
And do you have reason to believe that he went to Mr. Ayles' restaurant?
It was a Sunday night. Everything else was closed.
When was your father found?
The next morning, hanging from a tree by the creek.
I'm, uh, sorry that I have to ask you these painful questions, Isaack.
It's just water.
You want me to drink from your cup?
Go ahead. I'm not contagious.
- Thank you. - You're welcome.
Now, Isaack, I want you to think really hard here.
Did you or anyone that you know of
actually see your father with Mr. Ayles
on the day that he disappeared?
No, sir.
Anyone in this courtroom?
Does anyone in this courtroom have any knowledge
of Mr. Ayles committing bodily harm or injury to Mr. Samuels?
Son, this is a court of law.
We require proof that a man has committed a crime
before he can be punished.
You may sit down.
Harlan Ayles, you're accused of murder.
- How do you plead? - My client is innocent.
And with all due respect, these proceedings are a farce.
A man is dead. I'd call that a tragedy, not a farce.
This is a trial with no evidence, no witnesses.
My client had nothing to do with this incident.
Well, then, he won't be needing his lawyer, will he?
Mr. Ayles has hired me as his advocate.
Then I suggest you give him his money back.
Mr. Ayles, step to the center of this court.
But, Your Honor, you can't run a courtroom without lawyers.
Yes, I can. You know why?
It's my courtroom, and I don't like lawyers.
Place your hand on the Bible.
Unlike your lawyer,
do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but?
- I certainly do. - You'd better.
Be seated.
Do I detect a bit of a Southern accent?
- Tennessee. - Hmm, nice place.
It used to be. It's not the same after the war, though.
Word is a little group got its start there.
Maybe you've heard of them.
Call themselves the Ku Klux Klan.
I wouldn't know anything about that.
Surely you read the papers.
Just the Bible.
A spiritual man. That's comforting.
Your restaurant is a whites-only establishment.
Well, it is within my rights as a citizen to serve who I want.
Sadly, that's true.
Did Mr. Samuels ever enter your restaurant?
Once, but I told him he wasn't welcome.
What happened then?
Well, he left. He understood.
Tell me, when was this, uh, friendly exchange?
I'd say five, six months ago.
And your future dealings with Mr. Samuels?
We had none.
So it is your testimony
that he did not come to your restaurant two weeks ago
looking for milk for a sick child.
That's right, sir. He did not.
This record indicates that Mr. Samuels' murder
is the third lynching in these parts in the last year.
Three lynchings, no witnesses?
And yet you have been called to this courtroom each time.
And I have been acquitted every time.
The only reason I'm here now
is because those Negroes want to punish me
for not letting them eat in my restaurant.
- You must have awfully good food. - Yes, sir, we do.
It's the finest in town, and I aim to keep it that way.
So, your restaurant... does it have shiny silverware...
...fine china, and nice, clean, white tablecloths?
Yes, sir, we do.
Have you ever noticed
how a white tablecloth can resemble a sheet
out there in the dark?
You know, I do not care for your insinuations, sir.
I-I'm a patriot, and I fought for this country.
- In the Confederate army? - Yes, sir.
Well, then, I might remind you, sir,
your side lost.
You may return to your seat, Mr. Ayles.
Isaack, I'm sorry for your loss.
I, too, have lost loved ones in a terrible way.
What I can tell you is,
while time heals the pain a little bit,
it won't erase the memories.
It is my hope that, despite all the evil that's been done here,
you'll be able to find a path of dignity and purpose...
...and know that you can take solace in the fact...
...that you did your father proud.
And you...
My gut tells me that you are guilty as hell,
and I would love nothing more than to see you swing
from the same tree as Mr. Samuels.
But this is a court of law, not a court of justice,
and the law is something that I can't turn my back on.
Without any witnesses or any evidence,
all I can do is acquit you,
so you are free to go.
A joke of a trial.
Now, the last time I checked, this land belonged to white folk,
not a bunch of colored who jumped off the slave ship.
I say we round up every last one of them
and decorate the trees from here to Knoxville!
Hear! Hear!
What the hell?
Ironic, isn't it?
Out here in the dark, we're all the same color.
I'll be back here in three months, another three months after that.
If I so much as see your name on my docket again,
I'll come back, and I'll hang you for real.
Get off of me!
Who the hell are you?
My name is John William Goodnight.
I'm Circuit Judge, sworn jurisdiction in this territory.
Yeah, well, we don't need no judge out here.
Mister, you're lucky I am a judge.
If I weren't sworn to uphold the law, I'd shoot you right now.
The way I see it, we got a choice:
We can go into town and deal with this,
or you can face the law right here.
Either way, justice is being served today.
Yeah, well...
There's two of us and one of you.
I like those odds.
When I drop this hammer, one of you is gonna be dead.
There's a 50/50 chance that's you.
You still like those odds, gambler?
- Are you all right? - I'm fine.
Thank you.
You sure?
I can handle myself, generally.
They came on me by surprise.
So, you're our new judge.
John Goodnight.
Kate Ramsey.
I think it might be a good idea if I rode along with you, Miss Ramsey.
I suppose that depends on your intentions.
My only intention is to get into Crooked Stick
to a bed and a hot bath.
I'm just a little mistrustful of judges, is all.
I do hope you're not like the last one.
What was he like?
Bought, owned, and, thankfully, dead now.
You?
No, no, and not yet.
Well, you can ride along with me if you like.
As low as they are, they deserve to be buried.
Do you bury all the men you kill?
I don't know. I've never killed anyone before.
My father taught me to shoot. He's good with a gun, too.
Well, at least he used to be.
I've lived most my life in Crooked Stick.
I probably should have left by now, but, well, I feel an obligation.
My husband was the doctor there.
Since he died, I've tried to take over where he left off.
You know, I have been alone three years now.
That long, you'd think I'd be used to it, but I'm not.
What about you?
What about me?
Well, are you alone?
I've got my horse.
Yeah, but can you talk to a horse?
I've got a feeling you can.
Well...
I do enjoy a good conversation.
It was a nice place to live before Dan Reed showed up.
I could treat the Indians at my clinic if not for Reed.
You heard of him?
You will.
He built most of Main Street, and he employs almost everyone in it.
Naturally, his generosity comes with a price.
No one stands up to him, no matter what he does,
and a lot of what he does is against the Indians.
When we get to town, I'll talk to the sheriff.
Well, that won't do much good.
He's on Reed's payroll, too.
- I'm not. - Yet.
If I were interested in money, I'd still be in Chicago.
Do you always drink like that?
Like what?
Like there's no tomorrow.
There may not be.
You always talk so much?
What if I said yes?
I guess I could live with it.
Until morning, anyway.
I can't sleep.
Can you?
I'm trying.
You must have done something awfully wrong
to be appointed to this circuit.
I imagine there are few places on Earth as lawless.
I imagine.
Are you running from something?
Not that I know of.
It's a woman, isn't it?
You're here because of a woman?
Are you gonna keep asking questions all night?
I might.
Well, no, I'm not running from anything,
and, yes, I'm here because of a woman.
My mother.
Good morning.
I'm, uh, glad to say you don't talk in your sleep.
Well, I'm happy to see you drink something other than whiskey.
Well, after you've had some of this, you might prefer whiskey.
I tell you what...
When we get to town, I will make you a real cup of coffee...
...along with the best supper you've ever eaten.
Do you want to have dinner with me or not?
Supper would be, uh... fine.
- Good. - Good.
All right.
Here we are. Crooked Stick.
Is something wrong?
- We got enough for candy? - I always go for the peppermint.
That piece of dirt deserved to be hanged.
What is it?
What's the matter?
I, uh, I've been here before, a long time ago.
Oh.
Well, then, I guess...
Welcome back.
And thank you.
My ma says you're the judge.
I am.
My ma says you hanged a man for spitting in Jackson.
Well, your mama heard wrong.
I would never hang a man just for spitting...
unless, of course, he was spitting on someone he'd just killed.
But if I spit, I'm not guilty of anything, right?
Son, every man is guilty of something, and you know what that is?
It's all the good that he didn't do.
Thank you.
How much is candy these days?
- Two cents, sir. - Hmm.
This your store?
Uh, no, it's Mr. Reed's.
It used to belong to my grandpa, though.
Is he around?
Uh, you actually just missed him, but he'll be in tomorrow.
All right.
He's not in any trouble or anything, is he?
No, no, not as far as I know.
Good afternoon, Sheriff.
John William Goodnight.
I'm here to replace Judge Henry.
Yeah.
We got a wire saying he was gunned down.
That's just a terrible thing.
Well, being shot in the back usually is.
Wouldn't happen on my watch.
Glad to hear it.
So, what do... what do you make of our town so far?
Well, the candy's pretty good.
Your jail is a little full, though.
I hadn't noticed.
Why are they being held?
Being Indian, I guess.
I didn't realize being Indian was against the law.
Well, Judge Henry did.
Yeah, well, like you said, he's dead.
And I'm here now, so I will see those detainees
tomorrow in my courtroom.
Well, your... your docket's already full.
- I'll make room. - Mr. Reed won't like it.
Well, unfortunately for Mr. Reed, I don't work for him.
And may I remind you, Sheriff, neither do you.
I want to hear this case first thing in the morning.
- Who is it? - Kate.
Walk right in, why don't you?
You about done in there?
The water's still hot.
Well, you invited me to dinner.
Right. I...
Well, I-I didn't realize that was tonight.
Well, I'm here.
And I'm hungry.
I'll just be outside.
You are hungry.
I don't eat out much.
Nobody asks me. I don't like to dine alone.
The last time I was here, I was with my father.
I haven't seen him in nearly two years.
Where is he?
He moved to Laramie.
He's a businessman. There's richer clientele up there.
Mm.
But, then, I never did see much of him,
even when he lived here.
He was always coming and going.
Some men are restless like that, I suppose.
I suppose.
Are you restless?
Not exactly.
But you've never been married?
You ask a lot of questions.
You'd make a pretty good lawyer.
Well, I thought you didn't like lawyers.
Oh, I don't.
But I could learn to like them if they all looked like you.
Thank you.
But you still didn't answer my question.
Uh, there was a question?
Why haven't you married?
Because when you get close to someone like that,
it's just one more loss you're gonna have to face down the road.
Why do I get the feeling that I scare you
more than those outlaws?
Maybe because all they can do is kill me.
Relax, Mr. Goodnight.
The only thing I'm interested in killing
is the rest of this steak.
You're doing a good job on it.
I know you're just passing through.
But that doesn't mean we can't enjoy a nice evening
before you free those Indians tomorrow.
So, this is about those Indians.
This is about a lot of things.
Well, before we, uh, go any further,
I should tell you I can't be bribed.
Well, might I remind you that you're the one paying for dinner?
I have a feeling I'm gonna be paying for this dinner for a long time.
Why, thank you.
Evening, folks. Having a nice night?
Please tell Mr. Reed we were having a lovely night
until you showed up.
I'd be happy to, as soon as the judge here packs up and rides out.
Now, why would I do that? I just got here.
I could give you some reasons.
Help, please! Somebody, help!
Please, somebody, help!
You, come, please!
Please help him!
Come on.
Oh, come on.
I'd normally take you to the clinic,
but I expect you're used to having girls in your hotel room.
Yeah, it isn't usually this painful.
Maybe it's best you leave in the morning.
Best for who?
There is nothing you can do here.
I don't know why I keep hoping.
This place is poison.
You were just gonna leave without waking me?
I figured I'd see you in court.
So that wasn't a kiss good-bye last night?
If it was, it would have been shorter.
I'll walk with you.
As much as I'd like that,
maybe you'd better wait a few minutes.
I don't want people getting the wrong idea.
This town already has their ideas about me.
It's not your reputation I'm worried about.
Judge Goodnight.
Dan Reed.
Your reputation precedes you.
As does yours, Mr. Reed.
I, uh, met your welcoming committee last night.
Yes, I hear there was a misunderstanding.
I apologize for their bad manners.
We have a pleasant little town here.
I regret if you've gotten the impression otherwise.
I see you appreciate guns.
Beauty, isn't it?
Make up for last night.
You have it, with my compliments.
I've got a gun.
A man can never have too many guns.
Judge Henry had three.
It's a pity he's no longer alive to enjoy them.
That it is.
You know, I'm not altogether sure
your judicial services are needed here.
We're used to handling our own problems.
I'm glad to hear that.
I figure as long as I'm here, I'll make myself useful.
And there's nothing I can do to make you change your mind?
Afraid not.
I look forward to watching you dispense justice, then.
On your way into the courtroom, leave that gun with the deputy.
And what about your gun, Judge?
My courtroom.
My rules.
Yesterday, when I arrived here, I recognized this town.
I was here as a little boy.
And while I can see that this town has grown a great deal,
in some ways, it hasn't changed at all...
...as evidenced by the members of the Cheyenne
who are in this court today after 30 days of incarceration.
I look forward to hearing the evidence against them,
should there be any.
Sheriff...
They was arrested for trespassing on Mr. Reed's land.
And where did this crime take place?
I'm not sure.
You're sure it happened, you're just not sure where.
That's right.
Is that because you didn't actually see it happen?
Mr. Reed saw.
Of course he did.
Have a seat.
Mr. Reed...
...can you shed some light on this mystery?
Be happy to, Judge.
Stand, please.
- Did you hurt your leg? - Old injury.
I'm sorry to hear it.
I appreciate the concern.
So, why don't you start by, uh, telling this court
how much land you own.
100,000 acres, give or take.
That's a lot of land.
That's the... that's the better part of this valley.
I might have trespassed on my way in.
It's the savages I'm concerned with.
Not savages.
People.
The word "people" refers to individuals rather than Indians.
Not in here it doesn't.
Those "people" lit fires and spooked my cattle.
If they lit fires, there should be evidence.
That shouldn't be too hard to find.
Be my guest.
I believe I already am your guest, at the hotel,
which I'm told you own.
That's correct.
My hotel employs 23 people.
It pays a sizable tax to the town,
which is helping to build a new schoolhouse.
And, yet, with all that going on,
you still have time to concern yourself with a few Indians
on a piece of land you barely recognize?
I'm not on trial here.
No, no. My apologies.
Must be the effect of that good bottle of wine I ordered
at the restaurant last night,
which, I am told, you are also the proprietor of.
I'm beginning to think you're a bit envious, Your Honor.
Well, that may be,
considering that everything I have in this world
would fit into two saddlebags.
You may sit down, Mr. Reed.
Why, thank you, Your Honor.
Who will speak for the tribe?
Curtis Whitecloud, Your Honor.
I will speak for my people.
Did you trespass on Mr. Reed's land?
We come to town only to trade supplies.
Our village is 20 miles from here.
We use an abandoned trail that runs across a corner of his land.
It saves us a day's travel.
Did you build a fire on this land?
We lit a small fire to keep warm. We did no harm.
They've been warned not to use that trail.
Do white people use the trail?
White people don't threaten my property.
His people do.
Mr. Reed, the Cheyenne have been building fires on this land
for hundreds of years
and somehow managed to not destroy it.
So, you were arrested in the act of trespassing?
No.
We were arrested when we got to town, just like always.
- So this has happened before. - Many times.
Sometimes they just spit on us and call us names,
and sometimes they round us up like cattle and beat us.
I see the bruises there on your wrists,
and, uh, your clothes are torn.
What happened?
I was dragged down Main Street behind a horse.
And the sheriff did this to you?
No.
It was them.
Can anyone step forward and corroborate this testimony?
You know, I'm beginning to think
there's something wrong with the drinking water
here in Crooked Stick.
There seems to be an epidemic of blindness.
I saw Mr. Whitecloud dragged down Main Street.
I've seen things that bad and worse, for years.
And you're just coming forward now?
Yes.
Mr. Reed threatened to torch my clinic
if I made any trouble for him.
Thank you, Miss Ramsey.
You may have a seat.
I'm ready to make my ruling.
Will the defendants please rise?
You don't knock a man down
and then accuse him of living in the dirt.
You don't strip a man of his clothes
and then punish him for being naked.
While there are no laws on the books of this territory
protecting Indians' rights,
there is a law that says you can't hold a human being for no reason.
And we are all human beings here,
regardless of our heritage,
and as such, you men are free to go.
Mr. Reed, let this be a warning to you and your men.
I don't care how much land you own.
If I ever hear of another incident of abuse regarding these people,
you will have the pleasure of hearing another of my verdicts,
and I guarantee you, you will not like it.
Case dismissed.
Next case.
- This isn't over. - I expect it isn't.
My grandson said you were looking for me.
You look the same as you did back then.
You must be blind.
You still like those peppermints?
You remember me.
Well, it was a pretty memorable day.
It was the last time I saw Judge Shaw.
It seems like all the judges who comes through here
end up with a bullet in 'em eventually.
That's what they tell me.
I gonna do my best to see if I can't break that tradition.
After today, I wouldn't bet on it.
You know, it can't be too good for your health
out here talking with me, either.
I'm an old man, long past worrying about my health.
What do you remember about the outlaws who killed Judge Shaw?
Not much. They weren't from around here.
Best I recall, they were just passing through.
- You remember any names? - No.
Why the interest? I thought they all died out there.
All but one. Took a bullet in the leg and rode out.
If he's still alive, he'd be about 50,
good with a gun, dragging a limp.
Sounds like you're describing Dan Reed.
How'd he make all his money?
I don't know, and I don't intend to ask.
He just turned up here half a dozen years ago with his wife
and started buying up everything in sight.
He has a wife?
Not anymore.
She's the one that re-named this town.
- We used to be called... - Dry Gulch.
Yeah. That's right.
She didn't think that was too pretty. I have to say, I agree.
Of course, "Crooked Stick"... it isn't much better.
Crooked Stick's an Indian name.
Yeah.
Hey, come on, take a look! Come on, you got to see this!
Come on over here! Over here. Take a look!
It was him.
It was Reed.
Evening, Judge.
A man lies dead in the street, and you're gonna do nothing about it?
Yeah.
Where's Reed?
He's in the hotel. He's got his men there.
- What the hell are you doing? - Keeping you company.
Evening, Sheriff, Judge.
Say what you got to say.
Mr. Reed...
I'm afraid you're under arrest for murder.
So, who did I kill?
Curtis Whitecloud.
Yeah, I heard about that.
A real shame.
Get up.
You've got the wrong man, Judge.
I've been in this fine establishment all evening
enjoying a leisurely dinner.
Don't bother ordering dessert.
One more time...
Get up.
You think because you've got a lawbook and a gavel
you can tell me how to run my town?
This isn't your town.
Well, I paid for most of it. That makes it my town.
- Some things can't be bought. - I disagree.
Kill him.
I expect they'll get a few shots off,
and from this distance, I don't think they'll miss.
I guarantee you... I won't.
You'd give up your life over a dead Indian?
Young lady, that's a very pretty dress you're wearing tonight,
but if Mr. Reed doesn't obey the law,
you're about to have his blood all over it.
Hm!
Put your guns down, boys.
Go.
You're crazier than I thought.
You have no idea.
You see all these fine citizens here?
When my men come for me, they won't help you.
Nobody will.
You expect me to stay in this filth-hole?
Last occupants... they felt the same way.
Yeah, well,
when you think about it,
the more dead Indians we got now,
the less we'll have to kill in the next war.
- Is that a confession? - It's a fact.
The way I see it is it doesn't matter how many of them you kill.
It's not gonna change the fact that your wife left you for an Indian.
You know nothing about my wife.
I know she chose their way of life over yours.
I know that she left you and all your money
with just the clothes on her back
and you... you never saw her again.
You have no idea what you've started.
This started 20 years ago.
I'm just here to finish it.
What the hell are you talking about?
Your mind's so full of killing, you don't remember it?
I remember it.
- Like it was yesterday. - You really are crazy.
You shot up a wagon outside of this town.
You thought you killed everyone inside it.
You took my family and the judge.
But there were some survivors,
and one of them is here to make sure you hang for it.
I know nothing about your family.
But I do know I never killed a judge...
yet.
See something you fancy out there?
Funny, isn't it,
how feelings for a woman can get in the way of things?
Tell them to let her go.
I'll let her go.
Unlock the cell.
Howdy, boys.
Let her go.
She's all yours.
You're not getting out of this town alive, Judge.
- You all right? - I am so sorry I got you into this.
- You didn't. - He'll be back for you.
I know.
I want you to take my horse and ride to the outpost.
- Stay there until I come for you. - And if you don't?
- Don't look back. - I can't do that.
You do feel something for me, don't you?
Yes.
When this is over, you are taking me out to celebrate.
There's this little place outside of town.
The liquor's watered down, and the food's awful,
but it isn't owned by Reed.
This isn't gonna end well, Kate.
Probably not, but I'm willing to chance it.
Why?
Because if we somehow manage to live through it,
I'm hoping you'll stay on here.
In Crooked Stick?
That might be the worst offer anyone's ever made me.
I mean...
...with me.
You're right.
It's a terrible idea.
No, I didn't say that.
They probably won't kill us till daylight.
What is it?
Where did you get that?
Why?
This ring?
Well, my father gave it to me
when I was a little girl.
Your father?
What's wrong?
What's his name?
Francis LeGrange.
Not Ramsey?
No, Ramsey was my husband's name.
I don't understand what this is about.
Your father...
He taught you to shoot?
He was a gunman. That's why he was gone all the time.
No, I told you, he was restless.
Did he have a knife... like that?
He had a lot of knives.
Did he have a scar on his leg from a bullet wound?
You tell me right now what this is about.
That ring on your necklace
is my mother's wedding ring,
and it was ripped off her finger by the man that killed her.
I don't understand.
I think you do.
No. I don't.
You don't know him. He's a good man!
Maybe he was just a good shot.
Did he ever tell you how he got so good with a gun, Kate,
why he was coming and going all the time?
How did he get a woman's wedding ring?
Did he ever tell you how he made his money when he was young?
I'll tell you.
Riding with an outlaw gang, robbing, killing innocent people
and just watching them die!
You stop this! This isn't a trial.
This is you talking to me
about my own flesh and blood.
Oh, I'm sorry, but I'm not wrong.
He may not be that person now, but he was,
and when I bring him in,
you ask him yourself.
You mean before you kill him.
Hey!
Come here! Here, hand it back to her. Come on.
Looks like hell's in session in Crooked Stick.
Well, for once, we agree.
It doesn't have to be like this.
I offered you a chance to ride away.
You also offered me that fine pearl-handled pistol of yours.
To be quite honest, I'm kind of wishing I'd taken you up on it now.
How'd you come by it?
Condemned man's last words...
...and he wants to know about my gun.
I won it in a poker game in Laramie.
A mean son of a gun who didn't like losing.
Did you catch his name?
LeGrange.
Is that what you wanted to hear?
No.
Tell your boys to put their guns down.
- I'll give them a fair trial. - Sorry, Judge.
No more trials.
Time to die.
Let's get out of here!
Go! Go! Go!
Ride! Come on!
You would shoot an unarmed man?
If I did, that would make me no better than you.
You're the law now. I expect you to do what's right.
Count on it, sir.
Anytime you're passing through, candy's on me.
You may end up regretting that.
We'll be sorry to see you go.
It pains me to know what I'm leaving behind.
Does it?
More than you know.
Well, you're leaving behind hope.
We didn't have that before.
That's not what I meant.
Where are you headed from here?
Laramie.
I'm looking for Francis LeGrange.
Don't think I know him.
Think a little harder.
Why didn't you say so, Your Honor?
Let's leave my honor out of it. Where is he?
You've come at last.
I've been expecting you.
You remember me?
Are you not that distinguished gentleman,
Death?
You killed my parents.
I killed many.
It's something that just...
seemed to come naturally to me.
I never troubled to recall the details.
You recall this?
When I was seven, I watched my daddy get hung
and I listened to my mama praying for his soul be saved from hell.
This isn't about your parents. It's about mine.
So shoot me. What do you care what I say?
I just want to make sure I'm killing the right man.
There is no wrong man.
Everyone's guilty of something.
You think I didn't see you that day,
hiding in the bushes like a scared little schoolgirl?
I let you live
because I knew,
I knew you'd relive that nightmare over and over
until it tore you apart,
and I prayed that when that day came,
you would take your rightful place in my plan
to bring more pain into the world...
...more pain than all the good...
You killed him?
Mr. LeGrange died of natural causes, ma'am.
Frankly, I'm surprised he lived as long as he did.
I'm sorry, Kate.
I was wrong.
The man I was looking for, it...
wasn't your father.
This, uh, belongs to you.
I know that now.
What are you gonna do?
Watch you ride off.
And wish things were different.
I'm gonna miss hearing you talk.
Is that a kiss good-bye?
No.
You hold onto this.
For both of us.
I'll be back.
Well, when you come,
I might just be waiting.