The Magnificent Seven Ride!

Hold it!

Jim, if you wanna stay alive,

you'd better be more careful.

Chris, I've been on the trail a long time.

- I've been lookin' for ya.

- Well, we'd better get you into town.

Come on.

I'm scared, Ma. I'm really scared.

I'm not excusing it, ma'am. He did wrong.

But the punishment don't fit the crime.

He's only 18.

Only a boy.

- What did you do?

- I was just funnin'. Busted into a store.

Help us, please, ma'am.

Talk to your husband.

Save your tears, seora.

The marshal has no mercy,

no sympathy, no compassion.

- What did he do?

- Pepe Carral?

He's knocked over most

every bank in this territory.

And Big Walt over there, he's just

too strong for his own brainpower.

Chris.

Chris.

No.

But he's only a boy.

He had a man's wants

when he was robbin'.

And he didn't spend the money

he stole on grub for his family.

He spent it on women, liquor and cards.

And then, when he's caught,

he calls himself a boy again.

If you put him in that Tucson hellhole,

he'll come out a wild animal.

That storekeeper you robbed has six kids.

You ruined him.

You wiped out ten years of hard work

for just one night. One good time.

- I learned my lesson, honest.

- Chris, please.

No.

You're supposed to be an important man.

A friend of the governor's.

Why, you're worse than any man

you ever sent to Tucson.

Is there any man in there

that's killed as many men as you?

Not by half, there isn't.

I didn't kill for the same reasons they did.

You're not as pure as them

that stands before you.

Name's Noah Forbes, Marshal.

I've decided to do for you

what Ned Buntline did for Bill Cody.

- Make a damn fool of me.

- Make you famous.

You're a writer?

You name a big city newspaper

and I've worked on it.

That means you're pretty good...

or you can't hold a job.

All you have to do is talk to me.

I'll do the writing, you get a third.

I met Buntline.

Read his stuff. Mostly trash.

Things weren't anything like that.

Listen, what people think is true is a lot

more important than what really is true.

Can't get rich telling 'em they're wrong.

I don't make my livin' that way.

Look, somebody's gonna write about you

anyway. Why shouldn't it be me?

All right. But you get half.

And you don't print anything I don't like.

It's a deal.

Rye. Bring a bottle

and put it on the marshal's bill.

I'll be a little short till I finish the book.

You better write good.

What are you doin' here? You should

be flat on your back for a week.

I ain't got a week, Chris.

I ain't got an hour to spare.

Well, come on. Have a drink anyway.

Jim Mackay, Noah Forbes.

Here's a man you could write about.

- He's ridden with me more than once.

- Lawman, Mr Mackay?

- I used to be a bounty hunter.

- One of the few that brought 'em in alive.

But I'm a lawman now.

And don't you laugh, Chris.

A legal and respectable town marshal.

They've got a good man. What town?

Magdalena, down Sonora way.

It's a farmin' settlement.

Mostly Mexican. A few American families.

We get along just fine.

An American marshal in a Mexican town.

They couldn't be too particular.

They needed help bad.

You see, we border De Toro's territory.

Who's De Toro?

Bandit. Raids both sides of the border.

The cavalry and the rurales

could stop him if they'd cooperate,...

.. but neither side lets the other

cross the frontier.

Those two pistoleros. De Toro's?

I guess they figure I'm comin'

to look for some of the old bunch.

Jim, I've crossed that border

three times to fight bandits.

- I ain't goin' down there again.

- Chris, he's bound to hit us any time.

He's got 50, 60 men.

I got a handful of farmers.

And I've got a good job.

And a new wife who's still

practically a bride.

I don't like to bring this up, Chris,

but I saved your life one time.

That doesn't give you

any right to ask for it now.

Besides, didn't I save your neck today?

Doesn't that make us even,

if you're keepin' score?

You told me then, Chris, "I owe you.

You want something, you ask, you got it. "

I hung on to that promise for ten years.

I saved it like grubstake,...

.. waitin' for something important

to come along, and I'm askin' now.

No, Jim. I can't.

Remember that first time, Chris?

Seven of us got $350. $50 apiece.

Well, those folks in Magdalena, they trust

me. Me, Chris, with everything they got.

I got $3,000 here. One thousand of it's

yours for just a couple of weeks' work.

Well, maybe some of the others.

Dead, mostly. Or semiretired, like me.

Skinner or Elliot?

Tucson prison.

Who brought 'em in, Chris?

Times change, Jim.

They couldn't accept it.

Yeah, well.

I guess I don't neither.

Luck, Chris.

Luck.

I'm glad you didn't lock it.

I figured you'd break it down if I did.

Chris.

He's only 18.

Hickok, Clay Allison, the Daltons,...

.. how do you figure I outlived them?

By knowing when not to take

unnecessary chances.

Now, that's hard,

but it's the only way that works.

Works against who?

I mean, Shelly's no

Mark Skinner or Pepe Carral.

I'm not asking you to help gunfighters.

Judge Parker said to me once:

"The men I hanged never killed again,

but plenty that I didn't hang did. "

You tell me he's wrong.

He wasn't talking about a boy

who robbed a store.

I've buried a lot of friends who thought

fuzzy-faced kids weren't dangerous.

Means a lot to you, huh?

I don't owe Shelly a damn thing

and I do him a big favour.

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