Per Un Pugno Di Dollari (A Fistful of Dollars)

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You? You again? Get out!

Go on, I told you. Get out!

Go on! Go on!

Papa!

You filthy dog! You settle with me!

Let's go.

Welcome to you, seor.

My name is Juan de Dios.

I am the bell-ringer.

Why are you here?

To see the Rojos? No, not the Rojos.

Is it the Baxters maybe?

No, maybe not.

You want to get rich?

Well, it's the right place.

If you use your head.

That's because everybody here

has become very rich,

or else they are dead.

What do you want to buy?

Some guns? Liquor?

You don't buy, you sell.

You sell lead in exchange for gold?

You will get rich here. Or you'll be killed.

Juan de Dios tolls the bell once again.

Saludos, amigo. It's not smart

to go wandering so far from home.

I reckon he picked the wrong trail.

- Or he could have picked the wrong town.

- His big mistake was getting born.

You want any work,

lookin' like that,

ya could try bein' a scarecrow!

Oh, no! The crows are liable

to scare him maybe.

Hello.

Saludos.

You can't get rich like that!

At most, you will only succeed

in being killed!

We have enough trouble.

What are you looking for?

Food, somethin' to drink.

- Water's over there.

- No. No water.

Eating, drinking, killing.

That's all you can do,

just like the rest of your kind.

By the way, you'll have to mark this up.

I know, you have no money.

After all, you just got into town.

But if you don't mind killing,

you will find someone eager to pay you.

My roulette wheel.

That, too, was murdered.

No-one ever comes here to play.

We spend our time

between funerals and burials.

Yeah. Never saw a town

as dead as this one.

You will never see another like it.

- What's wrong with the place?

- We've had too many killings.

You have seen the women?

None of them are women, they're widows.

The place has only widows.

Here, you can only gain respect

by killing other men. So nobody works.

- Somebody doesn't share your opinion.

- Yes.

Saludos!

You know why Piripero looked you over?

To take your measurements.

He can do it with a glance.

You will be a customer.

I'm not joking. Those murderers

will make a corpse out of you one day.

That's why I want you to get out of here.

You don't want to stay in this cemetery,

finish up and get out.

I told ya I can't pay ya.

Be my guest.

But get out of San Miguel, will you?

- Where does that lead?

- The balcony.

Why are you going there?

Hey!

To have a look. Things always

look different from higher up.

But nothing's up there!

Go ahead and get out!

- Who are they?

- Hm. Bandits.

Bandits and smugglers.

They come down from Texas

to stock up on guns and liquor.

The cost is much less here.

They sell guns and liquor to the Indians.

Any town that sells guns and liquor

has gotta be rich.

Not the town.

Only those who buy and sell.

The bosses are the ones who clean up.

Somebody has to run the place.

Every town has a boss.

That's true, but when there are two,

I'd say that there is one too many.

Two bosses?

Very interesting.

Interesting is right. The Rojos,

three brothers who sell liquor.

And then there's the Baxters,

big gun merchants.

Ah, if I'm not mistaken,

you already met Baxter's gang.

Yeah, we met.

But you're lucky. They don't usually

limit their fire to the mule.

A man looks around for any reason,

Juan de Dios tolls the bell,

Piripero sells another coffin.

Two bosses.

They've enlisted all the scum

from both sides of the frontier.

And they pay in dollars.

Baxters over there.

Rojos there.

Me right in the middle.

Where you do what?

Crazy bell-ringer was right.

There's money to be made

in a place like this.

If you're thinking what I suspect -

I tell you, don't try it.

Which one of the two is the stronger?

Which one of them is stronger?

Well, the Rojos, especially Ramon.

Don Miguel Rojo, I wanna talk to you.

Don Miguel, I hear you're hirin' on men.

Well, I might just be available.

I gotta tell ya before you hire me,

I don't work cheap.

- Get three coffins ready.

- Huh?

Adios, amigo.

Stranger, didn't you get the idea?

We don't like bad boys like you in town.

Go get your mule.

You let him get away from you?

That's what I wanna talk about.

He's feelin' real bad.

Huh?

My mule. You see, he got all riled up

when you fired those shots at his feet.

- Hey, are you makin' some kinda joke?

- No.

I understand you were playin' around.

But the mule, he just doesn't get it.

If you were to all apologise...

I don't think it's nice, you laughin'.

See, my mule don't like people laughin'.

He gets the idea you're laughin' at him.

Now, if you apologise,

like I know you will,

I might convince him

that you really didn't mean it.

I saw it. You killed all four of them.

You'll pay, all right. You'll be strung up.

Who are you?

Don't fire a shot.

I'm John Baxter - Sheriff.

Yeah. Well, if you're the sheriff,

you better get these men underground.

My mistake. Four coffins.

Hey!

I told you I wasn't cheap,

but I think you'll find it's worth your while.

.. 98, 99, 100.

The rest when you're all done.

When do I start?

I'm not in a hurry,

at least for the moment.

With four less Baxters,

now is as good a time to start as any.

In a few days, a troop of cavalry

will pass through San Miguel.

And I wouldn't want the military

sticking their long noses into our business.

You seem to be well informed.

In these parts, a man's life often depends

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