Will Penny Page #3

Here is the last place

before that town, and...

you know, maybe

I'll never get there.

Will... I'd like to

have a sure drink here.

Better than a maybe drink later on.

It couldn't hurt so much, one drink.

Come on!

Yes, sir! Planning means a man

don't get any unhappy surprises.

Take your friend. You know,

and he knows, he's gonna die.

You don't have to fight over

his goods. Take that coat,

for a coat like that, I'd

give a man five, six dollars.

- You...!

- Will!

Give us a bottle and three glasses.

Can you pay?

You got more guts than a

man could hang on a fence.

We can pay.

How's she taste?

Damned if I know. But it

sure burns a dollar's worth.

Good, ain't it?

Ma!

- Ma!

- HG, don't shout. I can hear you.

There's a man, he's hurt.

He's lying there in a wagon.

- Is he alive?

- Sure is.

He's cussing something awful, some

words I never even heard before.

You have to get to a

doctor, immediately.

Too late for a doctor. No...

I'm just a dying cowboy.

Well... There must

be something I can do.

If, maybe, you could...

hold my hand?

- Of course.

- You're an angel, lady.

- Tell me, how did it happen?

Wild Indians they was, lady.

Maybe... fifty.

My friends ran away and

left me to fight them off.

Why, the cowards! That's terrible!

Ja, that's right. Them bummers.

They wait until them

Indians is all finished,

then they come back,

and bring me here.

Here you go, Dutchy.

Thanks, Will.

Least I can do after you

killed all them Indians.

Are you one of the men, his

friends, who left him to the savages?

- We surely did.

- You call yourself a man?

You call yourself his friend

and then you do this to him.

If I were you, I'd never speak...

I would never speak to them again.

Ja. Maybe I won't.

I cannot comprehend behaviour

like yours, I simply can't.

It's easy to figure, ma'am.

We just ain't as brave as him.

Dutchy's... plumb brave.

Yes. And you leave

him to die in the cold.

At least bring him inside.

That won't help him, juggling

that bullet around in his innards.

Is that going to help him?

It may not put him back on his feet but

it won't put him in his grave either.

Is there anything more

I can do to help you?

No.

Hey, Will.

What he said, that... Schwein...

is he right, do you think?

- I will die?

- It happens to all of us, Dutchy.

No, Will. You know what I mean.

Is now my time?

We'll get you to that doctor.

I don't know, Dutchy.

How the hell do I know?

There's a lot I ain't

done yet. Cowboyin' around.

Hurts like hell.

- I'll get you another drink.

- Will?

I'm only 27 years old.

- Want part of the bet?

- What bet?

He bet 50 dollars Dutchy

don't make it to... Where's it?

- Alfred.

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