Death Hunt Page #4

Get up!

A friendly fella.

He set right where you are, boy,

and paid for everyting with $100 bills.

Hey, he just wanted some supplies.

Bought two of my best shotguns

and 700 rounds of ammo.

From the way he acted,

he didn't look crazy to me...

...at least not any more crazy

than anyone else around here.

You dumb f***.

You lost what brains you had.

How the hell was I supposed

to know who he was?

700 rounds of ammo?

Bought it all. He had a lot of money.

Who is this guy?

Ever hear of the mad trapper - the one

who steals gold from men's teeth?

Yes, I've heard of him.

You think this guy's him?

Sure it's him! How else

would he get all that money?

Must have made a fortune in gold.

It doesn't make sense.

Listen here to the high fallootin' expert.

Tell us what makes sense.

I just figure any man who'll

risk his neck to save a dog's life

isn't going to kill somebody for gold teeth.

Wrong, boy. He's the mad trapper, alright.

Deak, I want to talk to you.

What really happened last night?

I told you.

Deak, I have to know everything

about this man we're going after.

I gotta know him so good,

I can taste him.

Now, how did you get a rifle butt

in your face without killing him?

He shot first, Edgar!

Honest to Christ!

Hold this, will you?

Ready.

We'll get that son of a b*tch.

Alright.

Let's go.

Don't kill me, Albert.

I expect that's you.

Hello, Bill.

Well... what brings you back?

Too damn crowded.

Gettin' that way all over.

Now, listen to me Albert,

'cause you ain't got much time.

Things are not the same

as when you left here.

They put up a town about 7 years ago.

Just a few hours from here...

...in good weather.

There's a Mountie outpost

there, and radios

and newspapers come in

from Toronto almost regular.

It's different, Albert.

There's a mountie there named

Edgar Millen, and he's coming after you.

I guess he'll bring a whole

bunch of others with him.

But he's the last man in the world

that anybody'd want on his trail.

They're gonna kill you.

Am I gettin' through to you, Albert?

- I understand what you're sayin'.

- Good.

Then you'll also understand when

I tell you to get the hell out of here.

Head south.

I appreciate you coming

over here to tell me that, Bill.

But you ain't runnin', that it?

Got no place to go.

Your father never had

anything against running.

I don't guess anybody ever really

wanted to catch up to him, anyway.

He's gone, isn't he?

He died in a prison hospital.

Where you headed?

Well, I guess I'll head up

into the high country.

Do some trappin'.

- Good hunting.

- Same to you, Albert.

Come on, boy.

See you around, Albert!

Tie those horses up.

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