Bonanza (1959–1973): Season 13, Episode 20 - Shanklin - full transcript

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Oh, oh, no good coming.

Wait, wait...

Hop Sing...

Hop Sing... Hop Sing...
Hop Sing... Hop Sing!

Just once in English for us, huh?

Maybe pretty quick you see.

Maybe too bad.

See what, Hop Sing?

Big men, bad, stinky whisker.



Maybe 14, 11, 13 horse all come.

Hey, Jamie, do you think maybe
Hop Sing's jumping at his shadow?

It sounds like it, doesn't he?

Only if a shadow is a ten party,
then I know.

Hoss... Hoss, look.

Howdy, can I be of any help?

I'm looking for a man
named Ben Cartwright.

He's in town at a horse auction.

I'm Hoss Cartwright.

Hoss, huh?

He get you at an auction?

Is there anything
I can do for you gentlemen?

Not unless you've got $25,000
you want to let me borrow.

Hardly.



Then you can't help me.

Gaviotta, Beecher, Marlow.

Mr. Bogardus,
you search the house, barns,

and post your sentries.

Let's get these animals out of
sight, "fedded" and bedded.

And no unneedful shooting.

Yo, move it.

Mr. Irons.

Take my horse, rub him down good.

Mr. Marlow...

get me some bath water heating.

That yaller do your cooking?

He's a Chinese, not a yaller.

- You stay out of house!
- Hop Sing.

Okay, Hop Sing is yellow.

Hop Sing cook.

But I only cook
when Mr. Hoss tell me to cook.

Hoss...

Hoss, Hoss, are you all right?

You, if you've got a name.

The name's Shanklin.

Well,
yaller's a pretty good cook.

Yeah, we ought to take him
with us when we leave.

Yeah, that's right.

Ain't quite as good
as the old China boy

we had in Topeka.

- Jamie?
- I'm right here, Hoss.

Where's Pa?

He hasn't got back yet, Hoss.

Wish Mr. Cartwright hurry.

Boy, you quit poking at that dead man
and go fetch your daddy.

He's not dead.

Tell him to bring that money.

Tell 'em no lawmen and no posses.

That's the first thing
my Pa's gonna see to.

He do and we burn this place
to the chimney's, boy.

House, barns...

horses, cattle
and that Bull-Hoss with him.

Jamie?

Yes, Hoss.

Listen to me.

I need a doctor and I need him quick.

Pa'll be here in a minute, Hoss.

Jamie...

Pa can't help me
and they can't hurt me.

Get me a doctor, quick.

Hoss, I just can't leave you here alone

laying flat on your back
with those men in there.

Jamie, don't you see

while you're keeping me
company I'm dying.

Ride for a doctor, boy.

Quick... quick.

Pa!

Pa!

Pa.

Ponderosa's surrounded,
Hoss has been shot.

A queen to Mr. Asquith,

a five to the late Mr. Yost.

And a tray full of hearts to
the big winner, young Cartwheel.

Cartwright, not Cartwheel.

Well, I'll tell you something,
Mary Elizabeth,

if you had as many cartwheels
as he has

in the Virginia City Trust
and Savings Bank...

Deal, flannel-mouth.

And a quick ace of diamonds

to Mr. Jack Ass-ayer of San Francisco,

a pair of red aces
to match his eyeballs,

and to our gambler of profession,

if not distinction, a ten of clubs.

Three tens.

You got mouth enough on you
to talk the sun past the rooster,

but you don't call the hands.

Three tens indeed, Mr. Yost.

And the jack of diamonds
to the dealer, very possible.

Tens bet five.

One on each ten.

In that case I fold.

Why, Joe Cartwright, you folded.

Four hearts... I saw your hole card.

Oh, you got four hearts?

Well, you had me beat.
You got the king high.

And don't tell anybody
what that hole card is, will you?

Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sure.

That's all right.
It's time for me to go home anyway.

Got to give us a chance
to get it back, Joe.

You can't quit now...

Oh, I just remembered.

Doctor Martin's in
Carson City for the week.

You'd better get Doc Ingram.

Tell him it's a matter of life
or death and to get out there

as quickly as he can.

- Yes, sir.
- And you stay in town.

Wait there 'til I get back.

What about Joe?

Joe's the last person
we need out there.

He'll either get gunshot
or become a hostage.

Giddyap!

But, Pa... Pa, I just got to tell Joe!

I just got to.

Hyah!

Look what I found up in the attic.

You know there's more loot up
there than horses can carry.

Shut up, Beecher, and help us load.

Hold it.

Well, here comes that man

that's going to give us all that money.

Whoa.

Yeah, I'm Ben Cartwright.
Where's my son?

- Father of Bull-Hoss?
- Yes!

There.

Amigo!

Bull-Hoss dead.

Pa...

Doc Ingram's on his way.

He's dug a few out of me.

Hurts fierce.

Yeah.

Wish there was something
I could give you.

Whiskey?

I can't risk it, Hoss.

Whiskey could kill you.

I'm beginning...

to wish something would.

Cartwright?

He shoot Mr. Hoss.

Tend to him.

My name is Shanklin.

You shot my boys?

Yeah.

That one, that Hoss,
he should be dead by now... he's not.

- That's real quality beef.
- What do you want?

I got to have that money.

My... my son is hurt bad.

He may need a surgeon.

Doctor Ingram will be here
anytime now.

I ain't going to stand in anybody's way

after we conclude
our financial business.

You want $25,000?

In gold or silver or both.

In coins?

I don't want any of your Yankee paper.

It's a whole lot easier to carry around.

1,250 golden double eagles

weighs out about 50, 60 pounds.

It's not much.

It's worth its weight in gold anywhere.

All right.

I don't know if the bank
has that many coins around.

The bank's got friends
in San Francisco.

I'll wait.

All night, if need be.

Give us time to draw up a note.

Note? What note?

Promissory,

long-term loan from you to us,

Shanklin and Company,
C.S.A. Limited.

C.S...

Are you touched in your head or what?

The letters stand for
the Confederate States of America.

They used to.

As long as
Shanklin and Company rides,

the Confederacy endures.

But it's an expensive enterprise.

I don't want your note.

I didn't ask you if you wanted it.

Won't make you any less a thief.

Your General Sherman
left his promissory notes

all through Georgia.

Didn't make him less a thief, either,

but it did make him seem
a great deal more legal.

- That was war.
- It still is.

Lee lost the war, you didn't.

Lee lost a battle, and I lost nothing.

Now you best go get that money.

Not until my son is tended to.

You tell your banker to draw up
a long-term note, 99 years,

3% per annum interest.

And I'll sign for the C.S.A.,
as treasurer.

And maybe we draw up
a joint venture bond issue,

if you like.

If the doctor needs to operate on him,

you'll allow that?

Why not?

What good's a dead hostage?

You'll have me as a hostage

once I get back here with the money.

If you get back.

You and the banker
might decide that Bull-Hoss

ain't worth no $25,000.

Shanklin, let's get this thing
straight right now.

Whether my son lives or dies,

if we get out of here,

you and me alive...

I'll spend every breath
and penny running you

down to the ground
and stomping you into it.

Firing off that mouth
like a nine-pound cannon.

I'll tell you, you keep it up,

I'll get Mr. Ritter in here,
cut your tongue out.

Send you to town
with a note pinned to your vest

and that dead yaller
strapped to your back.

You start in on me,
you'll have to kill me.

Then I'll kill you!

And I'll kill them all.

Doctor, yaller,
and that Bull-Hoss first.

Now...

you light out of here.

Mr. Cartwright.

Get.

Remember, first sign
of lawmen or posse,

Bull-Hoss gets the same.

Hyah!

Leave go of that horse!

Leave go, I say!

Back off!

Gaviotta!

Stop it, Gaviotta!

He's a doctor.

Shanklin says let him come through.

Ben, does that savage work for you?

No, he's one of the outlaws.

What outlaws?

Well, didn't Jamie tell you?

He told me Hoss was gunshot.

Well, that's true.

Well, he's one of them
and so is Mr. Bogardus.

He's going to take you
all the way to the ranch.

Good Lord, Ben, I...
I don't want to get mixed up

with any outlaws.

Now, there's no time to talk about this.

Hoss is hurt bad...
I don't know how bad.

I don't know if he can be helped.

In that case I really should
operate at the office.

He can't be moved.

Who says he can't be moved?

- Shanklin.
- Shanklin?

And I agree with him, it'd kill him!

But, Ben, I... I need my instruments.

Everything's in my office.

You need your office,
I'll bring it to you.

Now get going!

All right, hang on, we're going in.

Come on, boy.

Come on, come on.

Blood's bright red, Bull-Hoss.

Way brighter than my red blood.

Come in, Doctor.

Man here with a hole in an artery.

It looks like a laceration
of the femoral artery.

I might save him,

but that right leg
will have to come off first thing.

The best thing you can do
for me and for Hoss

is just stay clear away
from the Ponderosa.

Do you expect him to take
the money and just ride out?

He might.

It ain't likely.

Well, there's a chance that he might.

It's a lot more likely
that he'll just plain

gun you all down
or take you with him as hostages.

Ben, I can't stand by and do nothing.

Let him get away scot-free.
I can't do it!

You can and you will.

Don't even think
of moving in my direction.

Shanklin said he'd kill Hoss
at the first sight of a lawman

and he will, make no mistake about it.

I still can't see the harm
of blocking the main roads

north and south.

I said don't move there,
do you understand?

Ben, that's a lot of money
to let him get away with.

He's not going
to get away with a thing.

Not with the least
of what he's done.

So help me God.

Ben?

Ben, it took some doing.

A thousand double eagles,
and the rest in silver.

Oh, good.
Thank you very much, Mr. Whitlock.

Boys, put this up on here.

Ben, are you sure
there's nothing I can do?

No.

Thank you.

Thank you, boys.

Oh, Clem, there is one thing.

Uh, if you see Jamie and Joe,
tell them...

Tell them what?

Tell them they're under arrest.

- Arrest?
- Yes, and then lock them up.

For what?

For safe keeping.

Hyah!

He ain't got much color, has he?

Back in Missouri,

we buried better-looking
carcasses than him.

Well, Doc, you going to
get at it or ain't you?

Well, I don't mind telling you

if I don't take
this leg off pretty soon,

the gangrene could kill him.

And If I do, the shock to his system

could easily do the same.

Doctor, I already told you
the man has a hole in an artery.

Yes, sir.

The femoral artery
is tangentially lacerated,

unless I've misjudged,

but I do think
that the bullet grazed it.

Why don't you fix that?

Then the leg might just
up and fix itself.

I mean, if a man
pokes a hole in his windpipe,

you don't amputate his head.

Well, sir,

your femoral artery
is nothing to trifle with.

Now let me explain.

As I see it, a blood clot
has closed the laceration,

or at least most of it.

Unfortunately, it's also closed
the flow of blood to the leg,

so the leg is dying little by little.

Now, if you go in there...
If you open up the laceration,

well, this man could die
from loss of blood.

Before you even find
enough unshredded artery

to tie off a butt-end,

let alone repair it.

It's seldom done successfully
in hospitals, never mind here.

Well, you have to take out
the blood clot

whether you're going to
amputate the leg or not, right?

Of course.

Well then, you lose no ground

by trying to repair the artery first.

But the gangrene could
spread to the adjacent areas,

above the hips.

It could kill the man
while I'm tinkering with the artery!

You haven't even got real laudable pus

or outright gangrene in that leg yet.

You put some blood into it,
and for all you know,

you might stop that gangrene

before it gets legal possession
of his big toe.

Are you telling me
to repair the artery first?

It amounts to that.

You might also try to get the bullet out
while you're in there.

And if the gangrene does spread,

if it kills him,

if he should die from loss of blood...

you'll take the responsibility?

No, I won't, but you will,

and right between the eyes.

Excuse me,
have you seen Joe Cartwright?

I just came on, I haven't seen him.

Are you sure?

Pa.

Pa.

Pa.

Now how did he know
his Pa was comin'?

I got your medical instruments
here, Doctor.

Oh, good, good.
Now we can get on with it.

How is he?

Well, we're going
to have to work fast.

Put that over there, please.

I've got some more supplies
in the wagon.

You come in awful quiet.

Both your sentries
are sound asleep.

Mr. Bogardus,
you double those sentries,

and then you deal with
Gaviotta and Vandersee.

- Deal how?
- You shoot them.

Yo.

Beecher, Ritter,
you other two, come with me.

Mr. Brackney, form a detail and help...

Help unload the medical
supplies from that wagon.

Mr. Irons, you stay here
and assist the doctor.

Good to see you back, Mr. Cartwright.

Shut up, yaller,
and help clear off this table.

You don't have to bother counting it.
It's all there.

I didn't want to delay your departure.

I can unload the wagon myself.

There's no hurry.

Need time to count the money,
sign the note.

I didn't bother with the note.

You best learn to follow
orders you ride with me.

What does that mean, ride with you?

Yeah, I'm going to take you
all the way to Mexico with me,

sort of keep the law
at a respectful distance.

There's no lawmen behind me.

Oh, not yet, but there will be.

Not if you ride out now.

Oh, I wouldn't think of
leaving you behind, Cartwright.

You're not ready to go yet, are you?

Not before Bull-Hoss does.

- That's right.
- Well, there you are.

We'll all leave together,
one way or another.

You plan on taking Hoss with you?

What would I want with a dead man?

He isn't dead.

Oh, but he will be
by the time we ride out.

Meaning you plan to kill him.

Meaning I already have.

Okay, where'd you want this?

Just put it down somewhere
and move out of the way.

Move!

Shanklin...

if my son survives this operation,

and you ride out of here without
harming the doctor or Hop Sing,

I'll ride out with you.

Only...

Oh, you'll ride out with me
and no ifs, buts or only...

Only if Hoss survives.

If you want to ride to Mexico
belly-down on a pack saddle,

that's fine with me.

And if Hoss lives
and gets back to his feet,

he'll come looking for you.

He'll be back on his feet again

when we're all in hell
under six feet of ice.

And you'll get there first, Shanklin,

'cause you'll take the shortcut...

through the hangman's trap door.

Yankees hang me,
they got to use a sour apple tree.

Oh, don't give me
any of your crazy talk, Shanklin.

You're no war hero,
you're nothing but a cheap

common murdering thief.

If I was I would have shot
the lot of you before this.

You first.

Probably intend to do that anyway.

Get rid of the witnesses.

You don't think too good, Cartwright.

That yaller's a witness
to how I shot in self-defense.

The doctor is a witness
of my merciful compassion,

trying to save the life of a man
who tried to take mine.

Now why'd I kill them?

And why didn't I kill that
other boy of yours,

after he pulled on me?

'Cause since yallers
don't count in courts of law,

that boy is the only real witness,

and likely the only Cartwright
with guts enough

to bear witness.
I'm going to leave him behind.

Alive and kicking.

Maybe.

If he'll stay clear.

Had me a boy like him
once in Missouri.

Red legs shot him off
the ridgepole of the house.

The official report
of the Yankee militia

said he died from the fall,

and not the bullet in his head.

Just like later they said my wife died

after she was attacked by wolves.

Yes, Lord.

Wearing Union blue uniforms.

I'm about to
administer the ether.

I may need some help
holding him down

once it starts getting to him.

Put it to him, Doctor.

Mr. Grange, Mr. Brackney,
help hold the patient down.

Breathe deep, Hoss.
Deep as you can now.

Breathe.

Deep as you can.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe deep now.

Breathe.

Mr. Shanklin, what was that?

Mr. Irons, you kindly
remove the ether mask.

The patient has stopped breathing.

Heart failure, I'm afraid.

Doctor failure, more like.

Ever hear of artificial respiration?

For pumping water out of people
who've been drowning,

yes, but...

Same thing for drunk people.

He's not drunk.

Well, ether is just
a higher form of alcohol.

You could say he's drunk.

Dead drunk.

Ben, you... you do this, will... will you?

I don't hear any heartbeat.

I can't hear anything at all.

Mr. Hoss nose wiggle.

Oh... I'd thought we'd lost him.

The heartbeat
is coming up strong now.

Thank God.

Thank Bull-Hoss.

I think, uh, it best

we wait a few moments
before we proceed.

I appreciate...

I appreciate you speaking up
when you did.

You didn't have to.

It's a matter of pride.

I killed Bull-Hoss.

I don't want any shirttailing
doctor horning in.

All right. I'm going to raise you $500,

win, lose or draw.

I leave by midnight and that's it.
I'm tired.

You might leave well before
midnight, junior, flat broke.

Depending on what
I've got for a hole card.

Mmm.

It feels so fierce.

I am going to raise you...

200.

You're faking, you already
looked at your hole card.

Never did, you old jackass.

$700.

You... you see that spade flush.
You think you're gonna bluff.

- Listen here, I...
- Psh-psh-psh-psh.

Do yourself a favor,
stay out of this one.

I think I'll... I think I'll fold.

That's a good idea.

Excuse me, Mr. McLaughlin,
have you seen Joe Cartwright?

Yup. He's upstairs
counting all my money.

Oh, thank you.

I'm gonna see that two...

and I'm gonna raise you three more.

I got to talk to Joe Cartwright.

Shh, he can't be disturbed.

Wait a minute.

Joe, it's Hoss!
He's been gunned down!

My pot.

I had aces full.

Cartwright, tell your yaller
to make some coffee

and keep boiling lots of water
until I tell him to stop.

Well...

I'm ready now to go after
that blood clot,

the hematoma,

and I think we might expect

some rather bad hemorrhaging...

You gotta tie off first.

North and south of the wound.

What's that?

You...

you presume to tell me
how to do this operation?

Mr. Irons was a surgeon's assistant
in the Georgia Volunteers.

He's seen some few things
tied off in his time.

With all due respect to your, sir,

and to Mr. Irons' wartime doctoring,

I am the doctor here and I say...

Stop saying and do.

And you'd better do right.

If we're talking about what's right,

I still maintain that arterial repair

is the wrong way to go at it.

It's the right way.
You just do what Mr. Irons says.

Now will you please keep out of this?

I'm your hostage here, not Hoss.
Doctor, please...

That's a fact, and I don't care
if Bull-Hoss lives or dies,

that's another fact.

But I do believe
in doing some things right.

As far as I'm concerned,

if Doc Ingram says it's right,
it's right.

Now please go ahead,
do it your way.

Mr. Grange,
you go and fetch Mr. Ritter.

Tell him to come in here
and kindly cut out

Mr. Cartwright's tongue.

Get.

You got a few
talking minutes, Cartwright.

Why don't you ask
the doctor about his way?

I don't have to, I trust his way.

Ben, let... let me tell you.

You see, there is gangrene in the leg,

there's no blood getting to it.
Now if I don't act fast,

that gangrene could climb up
the leg into the trunk

and kill Hoss.

While I'm trying to put
north and south together,

he could up and die on us.

Will you please stop talking
and get to it?

Mr. Shanklin, will I go ahead
and amputate the leg?

And would you stop...

Amputate?

That's what the man said.

You can't do that to Hoss.

You're $20 over, Cartwright.

You can't.

Ben, I'm not equal to
any blood vessel surgery.

I've never done any.

You've got to try.

I'm afraid I'm going to kill Hoss.

Don't you realize that if you amputate,

you'll kill him anyway?

You can't afford
anymore ether, Doctor.

You'd best work on him
before he wakes up.

All right, all right, all right.

Pull yourself together, Doc.

Mr. Irons,

would you kindly administer
three fingers of whiskey

to Doctor Ingram from my bottle?

Oh, thank... thank you, sir, thank you.

You're not going to operate
while you're drinking?

You'd best do likewise, Cartwright,

because the drunker you are
the neater Mr. Ritter's going to be

when he comes in here
and cut your tongue out.

Hey, Ritter...

Shanklin wants to see you.

Shut up and listen.

Riders coming in.

You're hearing things.

Shut up.

They must have lookouts.

Yeah, I heard them.

Give me three or four seconds,

then send Cochise
through the flats, all right?

Right.

Riders.

There's one horse.

I'll pick him up.

Come on... come on.

Brackney, you hear them shots?

Yeah, but I was trying to
open up this here safe.

Forget the safe.
We got what we came for.

You go find Mr. Bogardus.

Tell him I want
to see him double-quick.

Get your gear together, Cartwright.

The way I heard it, them two shots
were fired in anger.

Some of your boys
whooping it up, maybe.

Not likely.

You go get your gear.

Doctor?

Doc, are you all right?

Doc?

I am now... making an incision...

five... six inches long...

not as straight as it should be,

but... there we are.

Now you see it's parallel
with the femoral artery...

I mean, above the wound.

And now I'm going to deepen it...

go down to the artery level,

lay it open,

be very careful not to puncture the...

Oh Lord, I wouldn't want to do that.

Mr. Irons, pull him away.

What... what... what...

Scalpel, Mr. Irons.

A clean scalpel, Mr. Irons.

What we have here, Doctor,

is an iliac incision
and an imprecise one.

But it can be lengthened
and made to serve with

perhaps a transverse incision
to the point of the hematoma.

Now, what I have in mind

is lifting the entire section of

the affected artery up and out
of the opening,

keeping the hematoma
intact and unpunctured,

and then we can commence

repairing the arterial wall
that's intact...

That is if we can find any.

I had considerable success

with this procedure for all

traumatic aneurysms
during the war in Georgia...

under some very adverse
battlefield conditions.

Sponge.

I learned more about surgery
in the three years of war

than in all the years
of my private practice.

Probe.

Now, as you see, Doctor,

we won't be able to lift
the artery at any point,

the patient is very heavily
muscled and sinewy.

But if you'll bend closer,
and look under the hematoma itself,

you'll see that the lower part
of the artery is still intact.

Yes, yes.

That means that some blood
is still getting through to the leg.

Now here's what we wanna do.

Mr. Irons, you will pinch
the north end of the artery,

using the thumb and forefinger,

and, Doctor, you will pinch off
the south end

and I will try to drain
and trim the hematoma,

save as much of the arterial wall
as I possibly can,

and stitch it as tightly as I can.

What about the bullet?

Well, that's lodged in
the pelvic cavity,

it's loose as a baby's tooth.
We'll get to it later.

Mr. Cartwright, you come over
here and handle the instruments.

Now, gentlemen,
here's where I want you to

take hold of the artery.

Here and here.

Let's go, Cartwright, scalpel.

Thank you.

Scissors, Mr. Cartwright.

Thank you.

All right, gentlemen.

Pinch it.

Tighter.

Grange, where did you come from?

I've been out looking all over for you.

You tie these two up,
drag him over to the stall.

I'm Georgia born and reared,
Mr. Cartwright.

I went to medical school
in Washington, D.C.

Then I moved to Missouri...

to start my private practice

because that's where
my new bride lived

and wanted to remain.

I practiced about five or six years

until Jefferson Davis commissioned
my Grand Uncle Tulley

as colonel of the 35th Georgia.

I returned home to be
that outfit's first surgeon.

Mr. Irons is my helper.

Three years of...

blood and men dying.

Scissors.

All right, gentlemen.

Mr. Irons, Doctor, let go and...

see what we have got.

We have got us a repaired artery.

A very fine piece of surgery, Doctor.

Let's go after that bullet now.

If you will go get us
some more towels?

Scalpel.

I came back to Missouri

to let my wounds heal,
see my wife and son.

I healed slow.

Couldn't doctor
myself worth a... forceps.

There it is.

And then...

them local Yankees started in on us.

The Red Legs?

Oh, and the Jayhawkers
and the Federal Militia.

You were just a southerner,

let alone a Confederate officer
home on sick leave,

and you had to fight.

It was kill or be killed.

I was away with Quantrill when they...

killed my wife and my son.

Doctor Ingram, you reach down there

and pull that tighter together.

Well, I'll tell you...

I was bitter and worse,
but still it was war.

And women and children,

they get killed in war,
and you just got to expect that.

And then they added insult to injury.

All right, hold it, you don't move.

I know your boy, who's the other one?

My other son, Joseph.

You're in a surgery.

Bull-Hoss is on the table.

He's alive and the prognosis is good.

He's got a fair chance at old age,

but if my hand slips,

he's going to be dead in two minutes.

You'd better drop them weapons.

Do it, Joseph.

What's he talking about?

Do it.

Mr. Irons, you pick up that ordinance.

Now, as I was saying, Mr. Cartwright,

April 8, 1865

the Missouri State Constitution
was adopted.

You give me scissors, Mr. Cartwright?

That constitution stipulated
that no former

Confederate officer,
soldier or sympathizer

would thenceforth be permitted
to practice a profession

in the state of Missouri.

It was in the nature
of that final indignity,

that I left home
and the state of Missouri

the very next day,
taking the Confederacy with me.

The young one's got something to say.
Say it, boy.

Pa, he's the one that shot, Hoss.

- I saw him.
- Yes, I did.

I did because I knew
he'd knuckle me cold

in less than a minute.

Now I'm operating to show
the good doctor here

just exactly what
a Confederate surgeon can do.

Mr. Irons...

that shotgun you took away
from that boy,

have you ever seen that before?

Yes, sir. Grange carried it out of here.

Yes, I thought so.

We heard some shots
before you come in here.

You kill any of my men?

Well, Mr. Grange was a little
overly fond of the bottle

and that's no great loss,

but Mr. Ritter was a very fast draw.

Did you kill him, boy?

I killed him.

That's a capital crime, brother Joseph.

You're going to have to settle that.

He did it out of self-defense.

Your man fired first.

Doctor, do you mind taking over
the last few sutures here?

- I'd appreciate it.
- Certainly.

Mr. Cartwright here will assist you.

Mr. Irons, give me that handgun
you took away from brother Joe.

What are you going to do?

I'm going to retaliate.

Brother Joe killed Mr. Ritter
and I'm going to kill brother Joe.

He killed him in self-defense.

The other fella was going to kill him.

Smart man, Mr. Cartwright.

An accident of war.

A war you brought here.

You got work to do.
Mr. Irons, you see that he does it.

Now, you... you got
the money you came for.

Why don't you just take it,
ride out and leave us alone?

Doctor, don't forget them drains.

You need at least two.

You've shown that you have
a shred of human decency...

I'm going to leave the young one alive,

just like I promised, to bear witness.

There's your gun.

Try for it.

Joseph, no!

You don't and you're dead
and so is your father.

You have three seconds, brother Joe.

Move over.

Hop Sing!

Did you get those drains in, Doctor?

Yes, Doctor.

He's going to be fine.

Too bad I ain't got a Confederate
surgeon to save me.