The Outrage Page #2

about the dead?

Why, some of my best friends

are corpses:

The only ones you can trust.

Oh, sure, they stink a little, but no more

than a few alive ones that I know.

How'd the trial turn out?

They pin it on anybody?

Well, there was somebody accused.

There's always somebody accused.

Usually hanged. But was he guilty?

It's Carrasco.

Oh, Carrasco.

Bless the Lord,

they got the right man for once.

- I wonder.

- What?

The bloodiest outlaw in this whole part

of the country, and you wonder?

Why, if he was within 50 miles

of any crime, I'd convict him of it.

- It's not quite so simple.

- Not quite so simple?

It'd be simple enough

if it was me they caught.

"Tar and feather him, boys."

Sure, peddle a few lightning rods,

pick up a couple of bucks in a shell game...

...fleece a yokel

without even scratching him...

...and you're a scalawag.

Lower than a rattler.

Yes, but do it in a big way...

...kill, rustle, rob a train, clean

out a bank, bamboozle the government...

...and hocus-pocus, alakazam,

you're a public hero.

They're writing dime novels

and singing songs about you.

You're a somebody.

Somebody to reckon with.

- And it's not quite so simple.

- You weren't there.

You don't know.

A desperado wanted

in every territory he ever set foot on.

Bloodthirsty vandal...

...driven by a craving for our possessions

and our women.

- Juan Carrasco, killer, robber, lecher...

- The facts, sheriff.

I'm sorry. I know we have to

prove our charges.

In the eyes of the law,

a man is innocent until proven guilty...

...and all that.

Of course, we didn't get a chance to prove

our charges the last time we caught him...

...because he burned down the jail

and escaped.

Maybe we could give him 60 days

as a firebug.

- Just the facts, sheriff.

- The facts.

Well, we know his past record.

Trials, convictions, escapes, facts.

Let's start by proving

his latest outrage wasn't beyond him.

Tell us about the capture.

We'd been combing the countryside...

...the biggest posse I could round up.

Search down in there.

Whoa.

He didn't put up much of a fight.

He got pretty cold feet

for such a hot country.

He was all dirty, muddied up.

Must have been thrown by his horse.

Did you find the dagger,

the murder weapon?

No, it wasn't on him.

We searched everywhere.

Phoo!

We going to listen all day

to this gringo bigmouth.

Gonna tell us what a big hero he is, huh?

All these gringos is big hero

with the mexicanos.

Greaser, you call them.

Kill the greaser,

they don't count like people.

You don't even cut notch in the gun.

- Come on, shoot. Everybody, shoot.

- Hold your fire.

He's just trying to cheat the rope.

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