Ambush at Dark Canyon

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You know I gotta bring you in.

You're gonna have to kill me first.

Yeah, I know.

Do it.

I can't.

Do it.

Careful how you look at me, now, stranger

You ain't rolled the trail

that I've been on

Until you taste the dirt

and smell the danger

You don't know the hell

that's made me strong

The devil stole my woman down in Tucson

And a biscuit down in Juarez

became my only friend

Spurred my horse before...

cut the noose off

And rode off in the sunset once again

And I ride high

In the saddle

But my heart has hit me

like the setting sun

I never had to run and hide

with my old friend here by my side

But you can't kill a memory with a gun

Oh, crap!

Oh, wake up, little darling

Open them eyes

All those birds out singin' outside

Get up, little darling

Throw on them shoes

How are you, Edward?

Two S's in Mississippi, Amos.

- Mind your own business.

- I'm just trying to help.

- You're late.

- Oh, yeah.

You're looking fine

as cream gravy, Eleanor.

You're looking spiffy yourself, Jesse.

- Had a long night. Overslept.

- You didn't.

Haddie Randolph. She's a real bear-cat.

Haddie Randolph?

Jesse, how in the hell do you do this?

You know, sometimes I wonder myself.

You know what?

You're gonna have a lot more time

to wonder about that, because chief...

he's in a real mood today.

And when he finds you?

Helms!

Helms!

- Amos.

- Jesse.

Close the door behind you.

Please. Have a seat.

Sure.

Why are you here?

Well, you... called me in, remember?

- I'm not in the mood for this.

- So I was a little late.

Work starts at 7:00 a.m. sharp.

Do you have any idea what time it is?

- I understand, sir.

- This is a business, son.

A well-oiled machine. If one cog in the wheel

is not working, then it all falls apart.

Do you see what I'm trying to say to you?

That I'm a cog, sir?

I should've fired your ass long ago,

when I had the chance.

Trouble is, you do a bang-up job.

When you're here. Hence my dilemma.

How to let you go

without being the bad guy.

Or how to let you stay

without appearing weak.

- Come again, sir?

- I have this little pet project of mine.

More of a passion, really.

I stumbled on this about five years ago

when I took over the chief's job.

Arizona, 1892.

Bank robbery gone wrong. Six people dead.

They called it the mid-day massacre.

September 23rd, 1892.

Four men, led by an ill-tempered outlaw

named Levi Hardin, walked into a bank.

In the small boom-town

of Young Country, Arizona.

When the smoke cleared, six people

were dead, including a five-year-old girl.

Traveling photographer happened

to be passing through town that day.

- Frank Sheldon.

- Sheldon?

- The one that started the Gazette.

- That's right.

And what was supposed to be

a series of rudimentary shots

to test a camera he'd invented

ended up capturing

one of the only live bank

robberies ever caught on film.

No, men, stand down! Stand down!

Don't shoot! Don't shoot!

Don't you... I'll f***ing kill her!

Hey, I'll kill her, Duke!

- Hardin, don't you hurt her!

- I know you don't want that.

No!

No!

Come on!

It gained national attention,

what with the vicious nature

of the crime an the...

high-profiled individuals involved.

One in particular, a well-respected

U.S. marshal named Duke Donovan.

That him?

Some say he was the ringleader.

So the man people were supposed

to trust ended up betraying them.

Doesn't end there.

Donovan and Hardin

escaped free and clear that day.

But a posse caught up to them later.

This one's alive.

So Hardin double-crossed Donovan

and took the money.

On the contrary,

it's all right there with Donovan.

Donovan claimed that he

was trying to stop them,

but Hardin was holding a woman

hostage outside of town.

He said he was gonna kill her

if Donovan didn't aid in the robbery.

So Donovan said he went along with it,

until the last second.

- There was no sign of a mysterious woman.

- And Hardin?

Donovan claimed he shot him

in the head before he blacked out.

Never found the body.

Well, what happened next?

I don't know if it was his 20 years

of service to the law,

or the fact that Donovan claimed he never

fired a shot during the robbery, but...

something put doubts

in the minds of the jury.

That's a hangin' offense,

but they sentenced him to life

in the Yuma territorial prison.

He lasted there six weeks before escaping.

He was killed two days later

by a young deputy.

- Sounds like quite a story.

- Oh, it is.

I had to uncover a lot of rocks

to find this much.

- But what do you think?

- I'm not sure.

But I'm gonna let you

help me form that opinion.

- How's that?

- By getting an interview

with the last man alive

who knows what really happened.

His name is Seymour Redfield.

Some people think his real name

is Tom Sullivan.

The young deputy

that killed Donovan that day.

When Sullivan brought Donovan's body

back to town, he disappeared.

- Was never heard from again.

- Why don't you just talk to this man?

Well...

Let's just say we don't see eye to eye

and leave it at that.

Only interview I never got.

What makes you think

he'll wanna talk to me?

Because you have more motivation

than I do. Your job's on the line.

Get the story.

Or...

Hello?

Hello?

Hello? Mr. Redfield?

Jeez.

That's a .45 long Colt.

Its many admirers referred to it

as the peacemaker.

- Mr. Redfield?

- Depends on who's asking.

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