McCabe & Mrs. Miller

Damn it, I told you.

Think I'm stupid.

That's exactly what I said, six of them.

Good evening.

Holy Mother of God,

keep me pure in thought, word and deed.

- Say, that's the back door, ain't it?

- Yeah.

I was about to put up a bottle

on the house.

That will be the day.

Was he wearing a gun?

He sure didn't stay very long.

He ain't going nowhere.

He's just putting on his packing.

Do you know what kind of gun that was?

That was a Swedish gun.

A Swedish kind of gun.

He's so cheap he squeezes out the bar rag.

Wet enough for you, mister?

- When it rains up here, it doesn't stop.

- Yeah.

What are you doing, Coyle?

I brought that chair over here.

You better get away

or I'll bash you in the face, you ignorant...

Where'd you get all that money?

Say, Professor, didn't you say something

about a bottle on the house?

That's what he said.

I'm Patrick Sheehan. This is my place.

Shouldn't we make a deal?

- Well, how much a bottle?

- $3.

$3? Yesterday, it was $2.

Well, look.

How about we go fifty-fifty on that?

- I share your profits?

- You want to share the losses?

- I supply the place.

- Yeah, but I think I supply the customers.

Nobody's bought nothing yet.

I'll tell you what,

you give these boys a $2 bottle on me...

and I'll stand my own losses,

and you can make a profit on the whiskey.

That's good.

One $3 bottle, Pat. Bring it on.

Well, there's 52 there.

Don't want to waste good liquor on him.

Might as well wave goodbye to your flask.

Well, you boys don't know nothing

about me...

and I know nothing about you.

Let's make this a nickel game to start off.

Let's make it a dime.

I thank you very kindly, sir.

Now, what I'd like to do,

I'd like to make this a five-card stud...

with a three-bet roof on the card.

And then maybe we get to, say, 15 cents

on an open pair on the last card.

- Unless you have objections about that.

- That's good.

I'm in.

Eight of hearts.

Four of clubs. Deuce of spades.

Seven of diamonds.

Eight of spades. Jack of spades.

Three of hearts.

Okay, my friend.

Jack off.

Close that goddamn door.

Good evening, Reverend.

Mr. Sheehan, Mr. Elliott is here.

Good evening, Mr. Elliott.

Hi, Freddie. Going to the opera?

Mr. Smalley, you want to sit in on a hand?

I don't gamble with no professionals.

- I'll take your place, Robbie.

- If Smalley's not in, I'm staying on.

What's this sh*t? If you don't want

to play, what's the matter...

One dry, please.

The church is coming along nicely, isn't it?

I was talking with Mr. Anderson.

I can't wait till we get it finished.

- Hey, who's the dealer?

- A fellow by the name of McCabe.

- What?

- McCabe.

- How do you know that?

- He said his name was McCabe.

- Joe Shortreed told me.

- How does he know?

I don't know. I guess McCabe told him.

- How is it going?

- I'm beating his ass off.

Drink on the house, Mr. McCabe?

Thank you very much.

You didn't say your name was McCabe

when you came in here.

I didn't say it now. You did.

Pudgy McCabe?

The gunfighter?

Businessman.

Business ain't so good, is it?

Did you ever know Bill Roundtree?

What's the matter with you, Sheehan,

you got a turd in your pocket?

Pat, we're trying to play some poker here.

Bart, you're getting slick as a cat's ass.

Hey, partner, you want to deal

a couple of hands for me?

You aren't leaving? You're not quitting?

No. Be right back, gentlemen.

Have a good night.

Try not to drop the cards, Riley.

- Where are you going?

- Nowhere.

I was just wondering

where you was going to go.

I was going to go over there by that fence.

Yes, sir, that's McCabe, all right.

John McCabe.

He used to be called "Pudgy" McCabe.

- He's got a big rep.

- I ain't never heard of him.

Why do they call him Pudgy?

He doesn't look so fat.

How the hell would I know?

Anyway, he's the man

that shot Bill Roundtree.

- I never heard of him, either.

- I know Bill Roundtree.

- I can't remember where, I know the name.

- He was nobody to mess with.

And that man out there taking a pee

shot him.

He's got a big rep.

Gentlemen, your dealer is none other

than John McCabe.

Pudgy McCabe?

The man that shot Bill Roundtree.

- He really is a gunfighter.

- I told you.

I don't care what the hell he is.

I'll beat his ass.

- Ever hear of Bill Roundtree?

- McCabe shot him?

- Bill Roundtree?

- Yeah.

I knew Bill Roundtree. He was a governor.

- He was running for governor in Wyoming.

- Jeremy, you are so full of sh*t!

Damn, out there makes you feel

like a three-squirt dog in a 30-mile wind.

- That egg is raw, ain't it?

- Yeah.

Tell me something, boys.

Who owns the property around here?

Sheehan owns all the property

this side of town.

The Chinese don't own no property.

They're just poaching mines.

Joe Shortreed, J.J., Bill Cubbs

and myself...

own that whole other side of the church.

McCabe, how long you figure on staying?

These boys got my tit in a wringer.

I hate to move on when I'm losing.

You can flop here for two bits a night.

Come on, I'll show you.

Sorry.

Come on.

What would you think if I cut my beard off

and just left my moustache?

What do you want to do that for?

- You got many chinks around here?

- Just turn over a rock.

- Who sells them their mud? You?

- Not me. I sell whiskey.

I don't tolerate opium smokers

around here.

Well?

Sh*t.

Why don't you do like I do?

You know, just trim a little bit

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