There Was a Crooked Man... Page #2

I shall assume

we all have one thing in common:

A burning desire to be elsewhere.

But we're not.

My name is Francis E. LeGoff.

I'm your warden.

None of you has been particularly adept

at living according to the rules...

...on the outside. You'll do better here.

- Yes?

- He's just got phlegm, Your Honor.

The rules then:
No singing, no whistling.

Any man who can walk

works on the rock pile.

All prisoners are required

to attend the hangings.

Coy Cavendish.

Yes, sir?

The date for your hanging

has not yet been set.

In the meantime, obey the rules.

Yes, sir.

Which one is Paris Pitman?

Junior?

Junior.

They're ready for you, warden.

Right this way, gents.

Is everybody here?

One, two, three, four, five, six.

Over here!

That's it. Now, just follow me.

Looks like you boys

are gonna be cellmates.

Got a nice, big cell for you.

Only one feller in it.

What's he like?

- He's the Missouri Kid.

- The Missouri Kid?

One of the greatest train robbers

that ever lived.

- One of the greatest.

- There must've been a hell of a bounty.

One of the biggest.

How do you do there?

You can call me Kid.

All right, Kid. My name's Paris.

This one here's mine.

You're welcome to the rest.

Get out of that bed, Dudley.

You know I gotta sleep low.

Finders, keepers. You take the top one.

Now, you know I got a bad heart.

I'm not allowed to do any climbing.

Horse manure.

There's nothing wrong with you.

I said, I got a bad heart,

you son of a b*tch!

You fat-ass old bully.

Hey, Kid...

...you been here a long time?

- Always.

Hey, you must be that Chinaman.

I heard tell he wrung the neck off

some other Chink in a railway gang.

If it was a white man,

they'd have strung him up on the spot.

What about you?

l... I pulled three years.

- What about you, son?

- Two.

Because he cried in front of the judge.

You should've seen him

sniveling like a street whore.

Fish piss. If it hadn't been for me,

you'd have got more, fraud.

You must know an awful lot

about what goes on here, I bet.

Excuse me. Where's the gents'?

He's got his foot on it.

I say, you must know an awful lot

about what goes on here.

You ain't pulled much time

in the pokey, have you, son?

If you want something, you'll pay for it.

I'll pay my way.

Hey, Tobaccy!

Listen, every spindle in this place

has a dodger game.

This one here is Tobaccy.

He sells you, like, cigarettes and plug.

Another one is Whiskey.

And then there's Sweets.

You ain't got a fella here

named Poontang, have you?

- Yeah?

- What's the going rate?

- Five tailor-mades for a dollar.

- Go and pay the man.

All right. Start asking.

How many ever bust out of here?

Now, don't ponder on that,

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