Dead $oul$ (2025) Movie Script
1
Oh!
Hello!
What can I do you for?
If it's grub you're after,
sorry, no food here today.
But over there at the Owl Club,
they'll feed you.
Three meals a day, 50 cents.
Is it a room you're looking for?
All right. It's two dollars
a night.
Or if you want to stay the week,
it's 12, paid in advance.
Sundays is free.
I like the sound of that.
I'll put you down for the week.
Make your mark
in the book there.
Hm.
What's that say there?
Strindler.
My name is Strindler.
Oh, all right, Strindler.
I'll show you the room.
Right this way.
It's pretty good,
it's got a window.
I think you'll like it.
Is there a bed?
There's a bed.
Darn it, Borracho,
get off my porch.
I don't care! Get a job!
Who the hell
do you think you are?
More cabbage soup?
No.
Brains with peas.
Got a question.
Ask away.
Who's the big cheese
around here?
Do you like some cheese?
No.
No, I asked you
who the big cheese is.
The jefe.
Ah, Oso y Chandler.
Who's Oso?
Runs the mine.
And Chandler?
Uh, he owns the big ranch
outside town.
Hm. Come here much?
Oso does.
Most days he plays cards
with the sheriff and mayor.
You still want that cheese?
Mm-mm.
How about some more brains?
No, thank you,
I have enough already.
Vale.
Not again.
May I join you?
This is draw poker.
Three-card draw
if you don't want to show,
four if you've an ace.
But if you got the ace, you have
to share it with the players.
Sure.
Got that right.
We don't like no snakes
in the weeds at this table.
Well,
I'm of the same mind, sir.
Hm.
Ante.
Ain't no card
helping this hand...
No. I'm out.
Me too.
Beginner's luck.
Breeding cattle dogs.
They say they mix 'em
with English Collies
and Australian dingoes.
Oh, that must make
a very impressive breed.
Your deal.
Ante up.
Ah, thank you, sir.
Oh, excuse me.
You, uh, played this game
before, mister?
Well, um...
Not lately.
Ante.
Open-pit system
versus the old-fashioned
style of mining.
I imagine that leads
to excellent mineral extraction.
None for me.
I'm out.
Gentlemen.
Nice playing with you, mister.
I didn't catch your handle.
Oh, my name is Strindler.
I'm Avery Senator,
mayor of this city.
This here is Sheriff Purdy.
And Mr. Oso.
So, uh, what line of work
you in, Mr. Strindler?
I'm in, uh,
government work, sir.
Is that right?
Staying long?
Just about a week.
Well, that's just dandy.
Why don't you stop by my office
on the morrow, Mr. Strindler?
Our city's wide open
for government work,
contracts of any kind.
I shall see you tomorrow, sir.
Fella talks funny.
He walks funny.
Dresses funny.
496, 497, 498.
499, 500.
501, 502, 503.
504, 505, 506.
The town hall, sir?
The town hall, sir?
Uh, it's down there.
Get the fuck... it's down there.
Thank you.
Ow!
Hey!
Hey! Hey, stranger!
You in need of a coffin?
City Hall?
Thataway.
Who are you laughin' at?
Uh, a pleasure,
a real pleasure, Mr...
Strindler.
Strindler,
of course.
Quite right.
Uh, pull up a chair.
Enjoyed our game last night.
Um...
Grab a glass.
How about a sharpener?
Ah, thank you, sir.
How did your take our sheriff?
He's an educated man, you know.
Were you to visit his house,
the quantity of books he has
would strike you.
Unusual for a peace officer.
Yes, speaks well of him.
I asked because you mentioned
you're a government man.
There was that little business
here a couple of months back.
That's not what brought you
here, I hope.
No.
Excellent.
Excellent!
The sheriff was
entirely justified,
and it was only Mexicans,
but things get blown
out of proportion, and...
And the Zamora brothers are
well known as troublemakers.
-To progress.
-Oh, to progress, sir.
Mm.
Ah.
Is it the railroad, then?
Railroad?
That's what I guessed
you were about.
It bypassed us, you see,
but not by far.
If we could persuade
the company to, uh,
reroute the line,
or to create a spur...
Mr. Mayor,
you mentioned Mexicans.
Are there many?
Mexicans? Why, yes.
See, we're so close
to the border, and shorthanded.
Terrible shorthanded,
as far as workers go.
White men are few
and far between.
So you hire many.
Personally, no,
I've none in my employ.
White men are few, as I observe,
but you can bet
I go out of my way
to hire 'em for all city work.
Oh, yes, indeed!
So, uh, who does employ
these Mexicans?
The mines,
mostly.
And Chandler's ranch.
Now, pertaining
to the railroad...
I see you have The Whale
by Mr. Melville.
This is a splendid
and prophetic book.
The fish wins.
Aye, 'tis a favorite of mine.
Beside it is a copy
of With Walker in Nicaragua
by Ephraim Squier.
A signed, first edition,
published the same year.
Impressive.
And to think that
all this happened only,
what, 40 years ago?
By God, I wish
I'd gone with them.
They all died,
of course.
The man
who fears death is not alive.
Let's cut to the quick,
Strindler.
Are you here
about that Mexican business?
What Mexican business, sir?
Involving
the Zamora brothers.
I heard one of their sisters
went up Tucson way
looking for
a federal prosecutor.
No, no, no, no, no,
I'm not here about that,
although Mexicans
do interest me.
How so?
Well, as you know,
I work for our government.
Have you a list
of Mexicans who died?
Those who were shot or hanged?
Well, there was
that Zamora brother.
He's dead, but I don't
keep a count.
- Who might?
- Our doctor tends to 'em.
He probably keeps a list.
I'd like to meet
your doctor, sir.
The corral.
They'll rent you a horse.
I'm an excellent rider,
you know.
That's what I hear.
Try this on.
Hey, mount her
from the left there, partner.
- From the left, you say?
- From the left.
From the left, yes,
mounting from the left.
They get a little skittish
otherwise.
Oh! Oh.
You have done this before, yeah?
Well... not lately.
Hm.
I got another possibility.
A wagon might be a better bet.
A wagon?
So... where do you want to go?
To the doctor's.
Is it far?
Not far.
Not near, neither.
Someone tells you
they lives 15 miles away,
it's more like 30.
Hm. And what's
your doctor's name?
Hell! I don't know.
Everyone calls him Doc.
And your name, sir?
My name
is Hedley Presner Felman
the Third.
Folks 'round here
call me Borracho.
-Borracho?
-Mm-hm.
It's Mexican for "intelligent."
I am Strindler, ma'am.
So, Doctor, of what
do your patients die?
Yes, well, my patients die
from many causes.
There's old age,
exhaustion, epidemic.
We have deadly fever, smallpox,
um, tuberculosis.
Uh, we have many seasonal
reasons for death here.
There's snake bites,
buggy accidents.
Syphilis!
Why do you ask?
Oh, just curiosity.
How did our mayor strike you,
Mr. Strindler?
Oh, he seems
a very worthy man, ma'am.
Oh, please call me Rebecca.
And our sheriff?
Why, he seems intelligent
and well-read.
Mm, yes.
Oh, well, I wish we had
more books in the house, but...
Well, my husband does...
He does not approve of them.
But, uh, did you meet his wife?
No, I did not.
But I imagine that she, too,
is intelligent and well-read.
Rebecca, offer this gentleman
a libation.
Oh, would you care
for a temperance drink?
Yes, you will enjoy this.
It was formulated
by a Georgian pharmacist.
It's a mixture
of the coca leaf from Peru
and the cola nut
from West Africa.
Effervescent.
Sparks the energy.
Better than tea.
Our boys thrive on this.
-There you go.
-Enchant.
Oh, what precious children
you have!
Themistocles is 11,
and Alcides is also 11.
Themistocles, what is
the capital of France?
Paris.
Alcides,
the capital of Germany?
Paris.
Such clever children.
-Boys.
-Boys!
I'm sure they will go far.
Thank you for saying that.
Themistocles especially has
a very sharp mind.
Small bugs, insects,
all of that fascinates him.
Excuse me, gentlemen.
Themistocles, come back here.
So, uh, offer you a pipe?
Uh, no, no, no.
No thank you, uh, sir.
I don't, uh, I don't smoke.
Well, why not?
I never
was inclined.
Well, you should.
It's, uh, good for you.
Cleanses the lungs.
Better than that snuff.
Hmm, yes.
Well...
Doctor...
About these Mexicans...
Yes, the Mexicans.
Well, they live
in appalling conditions.
Entirely without morals.
Prone to every disease
imaginable.
That's why so many of 'em die.
Well, that's what
interests me, sir.
I represent a funeral company.
We sell coffins and headstones,
largely to the Hispanic market.
Mm, growth industry.
Yes, it is, sir.
If you could provide me with
a list of deceased Mexicans,
including their birth dates
and places of residence,
I'd be much obliged.
Well, I don't know how
that would be any use to you.
You'd need a list
of the live ones.
Ah, yeah, well, you see,
my colleague,
he deals with that.
Oh, I see. Well...
Um, I suppose
I could ask around.
I'll give you two bits apiece.
-A dollar.
-Fifty cents.
Deal.
When do you need the list by?
Immediately.
Boys, ha-ha, when next we meet,
I'll bring you both a pistol
and a drum.
Let's go, Borracho.
Ya! Ya! Ya!
Whoa!
Do those look like the remains
of a... of a Mexican to you?
Him look more
like a Chinaman to me.
No use to me.
You might be interested
in the Widow.
She hires lots of Mexicans.
There's a widow?
What I just said.
Down the road apiece.
And your name is what?
I guess you must be
a tax collector.
No, no, no, I am
no tax collector, ma'am.
My name is Strindler,
and I'm traveling on business.
Ah! So you're a buyer.
I'm sorry to say
I sold the last of the honey.
I may have some hemp left.
A few pounds.
I'm interested in commodities
of a different kind, ma'am.
Your Mexicans been dying on you?
I can't barely keep them alive.
Eighteen died on me
just this year.
Good workers, too.
Last week, my blacksmith
went and burned up.
A fire? Oh, dear me.
I didn't say we had a fire.
God spared us that misfortune.
Gonzales burned himself up
on his own.
Too much to drink.
A blue flame came up out of him,
and he turned to charcoal.
Best farrier I ever had.
Now, are you sure
you don't need any hemp?
Yes, yes, yes,
I am entirely sure
that I do not need any hemp.
However, I wonder
if you know the names
of those 18 Mexicans
of yours who died.
-Of course I do. Why?
-I'll take 'em off your hands.
How can you do that?
They're dead.
If you'll give me a list
of all 18,
their names, ages, home towns,
I'll give you money for them.
Do you intend to dig them up?
No, no, no, no,
all I need is their names.
What for?
Well, ma'am, that's my business.
But they're dead.
I will give you 10 dollars
for all 18.
Well, Mr. Strangler,
we have a deal.
So, where
we headed now, Oso's mine?
What makes you think that?
I don't know.
We been just about
everywhere else.
I just figured
it was next on the list.
But for what?
Sir, I have a contract
with the Mexican government.
I am tasked to make this list
of their nationals
who pass away abroad.
The government will share
this list with their families,
who are naturally concerned.
Bullshit.
Mexican government don't give
a damn about these people,
and neither do you.
Give you 50 cents a head.
Ten dollars.
Oh, you can't be serious, sir.
Why not?
See, I got something you want,
and, uh, well,
you're not being upfront
about why you want it.
You could be a criminal,
for all I know.
What if you're one of them
grave robbers?
I'm no body snatcher, sir.
All I need are names.
That's all you'll get.
Most of my Mexicans die
when the mines cave in.
Still buried
a mile below ground.
Good luck getting them out.
What do you make of our mayor?
-He seems like a worthy man.
-He's a bandit.
What about our sheriff?
He appears educated, honest.
No, he's ten times worse.
Stick around
and you'll find out.
The only honest man
in these parts
is the federal prosecutor
from Tucson,
and he is a fuckin' swine.
Hm.
You, uh, met
our rancher yet? Chandler?
No, no, I haven't had
that privilege.
Biggest miser
you never wish to meet.
Richest man in the territory
and he eats worse
than his peones.
He hires Mexicans?
Hundreds.
The convicts in Purdy's jail
live better than they do.
He starves 'em,
and they die like flies.
Is his ranch far?
About ten miles down the road.
Five dollars a head,
and that's my final offer.
Oh, be serious, sir.
These are dead men's names.
Damn good
dead men, too.
Expert miners.
Villareal, he was
a top-notch pit boss.
Sandoval ran the mines
in Cananea.
And Puente...
Puente was the best damn
cap-man I ever saw.
I'll give you 75 cents.
Dollar apiece.
Agreed.
-Can you make a list?
-Already done.
Heard what you was up to
and tallied 'em last night.
-Sixty names.
-Hm.
Twenty.
Forty.
Sixty.
I'll get the list.
Go ahead. Take a couple sticks.
I like you.
So, did you make
good trade, boss?
Mr. Oso drives
a hard bargain.
Hmph.
Is Chandler's ranch very far?
It's 'bout ten miles or so,
I reckon.
Hm.
Slow down here,
slow down, would you?
There's a wagon coming. See?
I knows my business.
Heh, look at you!
You're down in the ditch now.
What you galloping
at such a clip for?
You drunk or what?
-Quick as you can!
-I know what I'm doin'.
Can't you see we're in a hurry?
Good afternoon, ma'am.
So sorry
about this inconvenience.
It matters not a whit.
The Lord works
in mysterious ways.
Oh, he most certainly does.
Hey! You!
Give us a hand here.
Son of a bitch.
My name is Strindler, ma'am.
Rose. Rose Chandler.
Very pleased to...
Give 'em a touch of the whip!
Hi-yah!
Why were you so rude
to that man?
He wasn't to blame.
Got 'em movin', boss!
They calls that one The Kid.
He rides
for Chandler's brand, hm.
You best stay clear of him.
Why?
Well, he was on Purdy's posse.
Now, that little shitbird
killed Segundo Zamora.
Shot him right between the eyes.
Huh.
And who's the young lady?
Oh.
Rose is her name.
That there is
Chandler's daughter.
You don't say.
Ain't gonna make
no headway there.
Who is that man?
That there be Valdez.
He be the foreman of the ranch.
Yo, Valdez.
Gracias, tonto.
De nada, jerkoff.
Him says,
"Chandler ain't at the ranch."
He's gone into town.
There's gonna be a chautauqua
tonight, I reckon.
What's a chautauqua?
Ah, you'll find out.
"The west yet glimmers
with some streaks of day.
Now spurs
the lated traveler apace
to gain the timely inn."
Hamlet ?
That be Macbeth, sir.
Well, lead on, Macduff!
"And when at night,
our good day done,
I guard my master's head.
'Tis better than
the eider duck's deep pillow
to have shared.
To foe of his, I'm deadly foe.
None stir the second time
on whom I lay a yellow eye
or an emphatic thumb.
Though I than he
may longer live,
He longer must, than I.
For I have the power to kill
without the power to die"
A beautiful reading
by Sheriff Purdy,
who is standing for reelection,
as I'm sure you know!
But what was the name
of that poem, Sheriff?
Ah! "My Life Had Stood
a Loaded Gun,"
by the late
Miss Emily Dickinson.
Ah!
Next on our agenda of auditory
and intellectual delight,
Miss Rose Chandler will
be entertaining us with a hymn.
What is the hymn called,
Miss Rose?
Mr. Mayor,
the name of the hymn is
"Gladly My Little Cross
I'd Bear."
That's him.
He's been going
around buying up dead Mexicans.
I sold him 18 for $10.
But I hear he's paying
a lot more.
Pull up a chair!
You know our sheriff?
-Of course, yes, yes.
-This here's Colonel Chandler.
I am Strindler, sir.
What's he want Mexes for?
Who cares?
All I know is, he shorted me,
and him a millionaire.
Sensitive and exquisitely
interpreted, mademoiselle!
Thank you.
And now,
Mr. Crocker will enthrall us all
with his popular rendition of...
Uh...
"The Night on Bare Mountain."
Applause for Mr. Crocker!
Diogenes. Now, that
was a philosopher.
Right, Strindler?
Diogenes! Yes, indeed, Sheriff.
Well! If it ain't
the millionaire.
I hear you're buying Mexicans.
Regarding Diogenes,
you know, by, uh...
In his day, he walked through
the streets in daylight
carrying a lamp, you know why?
He was looking
for one honest man.
What did he want the lamp for,
if it was daylight?
Hey, Pops! I'm talkin' to you.
What you gonna do with all them
dead corpses you been buyin' up?
If you'll excuse me,
I'll be with you shortly.
Who you calling "Shorty"?
If it's dead Mexicans
you're buyin',
I sure can sell you a few!
-That's enough, Kid!
-No, it ain't!
C'mon, Pops.
Gimme a kiss!
Fill your hand,
you son of a bitch!
I beg your pardon?
I said, make your play!
I-I... But what...
He means he wants you
to shoot it out with him!
But I'm unarmed!
Well then, heel yourself,
you damn cobarde.
And I'll see you on that street.
Tomorrow, 10 a.m.
Get out of my way.
Tequila, please.
Mezcal, then.
Y Zamora?
Join you?
It's solitaire.
I didn't tell you to sit down.
Sit down.
Looks like you have a job
you want done.
I heard about you.
You're the gringo who goes
around making lists of people.
Sounds like you got in trouble
with The Kid.
The Kid murdered my brother.
My condolences.
You want to talk?
Hands up!
So, Strindler. You have done
this before, right?
Well, not, not lately, no.
Well, what it is,
you two will stand back to back.
You take your ten paces.
And on the tenth step, you stop,
turn, draw your weapon,
and fire.
Now, I beg your pardon, sir.
There's a railroad spur
about ten miles up the road.
I could run you up there.
Look, Mr. Borracho's
got a point.
You might want to hedge
your bets.
No, no. But, gentlemen,
I appreciate your concern.
But my work here
is not yet done.
Why are you both looking out
of the window like that?
Gentlemen.
Let's go over the rules.
Back to back, ten paces,
I count 'em.
I get to ten, you turn and fire,
understood?
Yes.
Let's get to it.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Eight.
I knew it, you bastard!
Nine.
Ten.
And so it seems that after
Mr. Strindler shot The Kid
in self-defense,
in a fair duel
initiated by The Kid,
the latter's gun went off
in his expiring hand,
and the stray bullet
accidentally killed our sheriff.
Any objections?
Mr. Strindler is exonerated.
Let's go get a drink.
Yeah!
Come on, brother,
let's go get one.
-Here's to the sheriff's health.
-Pardon?
Here's
to the sheriff's health!
Oh, yeah, yeah.
Cheers! To the sheriff.
I'm taking up a collection
for his wife.
The poor woman
is all alone in the world.
Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, sir.
But unfortunately, my resources
are a little depleted.
-Could I get another one, too?
-Of course.
Still planning on staying long?
Oh, couple days,
couple days. Why?
Oh, no reason.
I hear we can expect a visit
from our federal prosecutor.
Really?
Perhaps you'll have
the opportunity to meet.
Maybe we will, sir.
Do you know what?
I think I've misplaced my snuff.
Would you excuse me?
I'll have another.
Hey, look here, old boy.
Give me a hand
with this skinflint, will you?
I'm running real low on funds.
I know you know how that is.
Mister, uh...
Oh. Strindler, sir!
The-the Reverend Strindler!
Won't you be seated?
Uh, thank you.
I rarely
entertain guests, Reverend.
Oh, I understand, sir, your--
your ranch must--
must keep you very busy.
To be frank,
I see no point in it.
People who drop by
neglect their own business
and expect me
to give their horses hay.
Oh, well,
there'll be no need for that.
That's good,
because there ain't any.
My Mexicans are a lazy crew,
half drunk most of the time
and useless for work.
Oh!
And yet, you employ hundreds.
-Oh, not nearly that many.
Half of 'em have run off
or died of the fever.
Well, sir,
that is why I am here.
I represent a religious charity
honoring those poor,
devout Mexican field workers
who pass away
for the good
of their immortal souls.
Total rubbish.
What is wrong with you, man?
Oh, I-I don't quite understand.
You have a portrait of
our Lord here upon on your wall.
My daughter
put the damn thing up there.
Or my departed wife.
I do not recall.
Superstitious nonsense!
I do not hold with it.
Oh, and how is
your daughter, sir?
She refuses to see anyone.
It seems she was sweet
on that young idiot
who got his head shot off.
You killed him, didn't you?
-Care for a little snuff?
-I never touch the filthy stuff.
Quite right, too, sir!
Regarding The Kid, I feel
that his demise was inevitable.
These are violent times,
and righteous persons
like ourselves...
I do not hold
with righteousness, neither.
It is just a veil
for hypocrisy and bullshit.
How many dead Mexicans you got?
Approximately 80, why?
Give you 75 cents apiece
for their names and birthplaces.
- 75 cents, seriously?
- Yes.
Oh, well, in that case...
I may have as many as 120.
That's fine, sir.
My offer still stands.
I must consult with my foreman.
Valdez! Valdez!
Valdez, donde esta?
Sir, we have a deal.
A done deal, sir!
Valdez! Donde esta?
S, jefe. Que paso?
-S, jefe.
-Rpido! ndale!
S, jefe.
We must celebrate with a drink!
I would offer you dinner,
but we have no food here.
It's quite all right, sir,
the list will be sufficient.
Nonsense! Nonsense!
We really must have a drink.
My wife made this
some 17 years ago.
Over time, it collected some
bugs and shit in there, but...
I scooped all that out,
and it is very clean now.
Very clean.
Cheers, Mr. Strindler.
Cheers, Colonel!
You don't look so good.
I don't feel so good.
Who is that man?
I have no idea.
He claims to be a preacher.
-And yet, he killed The Kid.
-Good thing, too.
The Kid was a braggart
and a lousy hand.
At least he's a decent shot,
more than you can say
for most God-botherers.
You didn't give him
any of that stuff,
did you?
Why not?
It was good when your mother
made it 17 years ago,
it's still good today.
Get away!
So.
You do good business in there?
-Care for a shot?
-Yeah.
All right.
Borracho.
Tomorrow, you must take me
to the railroad station.
Sure. Then you done with me?
Not at all, good Borracho.
After you leave me there,
I want you to go directly
to El Paso, Texas.
Get there in two days' time.
You know where that is?
Happens I do. But-but why?
Why don't we go together?
That is none of your concern.
Stop the wagon, please!
We ain't movin', boss.
God.
All right, day after tomorrow.
El Paso, Texas,
behind the Customs House.
Agreed?
Whatever, general.
Haw!
Leaving town, amigo?
Not quite yet.
Come have a drink with me.
Before you go,
we need to reach
an understanding.
What's the matter?
Don't you like music?
No.
Shh!
I've been thinking.
Seems to me the money
you gave me was a down payment.
A prelude to our partnership.
You bought a lot
of dead souls here.
My people's souls.
You paid a tidy sum.
So, there's money to be made.
You're leaving town tomorrow,
and the road is dangerous.
We'll go together.
I figured you're going
to where our money is.
So, we both go.
Share it.
Fifty-fifty.
Like amigos.
Or I kill you.
Good morning.
That's what he did.
Made a fool of himself
and the...
Officer Behan will be with you
in just a moment, Minister.
Well, thank you, my child.
Ah.
Hoo.
Sorry to keep you
waiting, Reverend.
-It's quite all right, sir.
-Government work, you know.
Please, have a seat.
Now how may I assist?
Well, I, uh,
I sent you a letter.
Oh, but you most certainly did.
Gracias.
"Dear Officer Behan,
I have the honor
of contacting you
at the request of members
of my church,
the Fraternal Fellowship
of Universal Brotherhood.
My fellowship dedicates itself
to reforming former Catholics
and inducing them
to right their wrongs.
At my intervention,
many Mexicans,
illegally present
in the Arizona Territory...
have returned to their homes.
I look forward to meeting you
and presenting a written record
of these Mexicans,
whom I have persuaded
to depart the state,
in the pursuit of our
government's worthy goals.
Sincerely,
the Reverend Strindler."
Above a picture
of a mestizo child,
a little motto:
"Gladly My Little Cross
I'd Bear."
Hm.
Well, congratulations, Reverend.
Good work.
Sir.
I have here a list
of 750 Mexicans,
including their birth places
and birth dates,
whom I have brought to Jesus
and returned home.
Ah!
Well! Commendable.
But I am the, uh,
Chinese exclusionary officer.
So I don't deal in Mexicans.
How much do they pay you
per Chinaman?
$10.15.
And that's for tracking them
down and deporting them.
You see, uh,
the problem with Mexicans,
as I'm sure you're aware,
is that they aren't counted
on the Census.
This makes them very difficult
to exclude.
But in many ways, they're worse
than the Chinese.
They have the tendency
to intermarry.
Mm.
This increases the number
of half breeds,
adding to the disorder.
Why not make an exception
in this case?
Hm.
How much do you want
for the whole list?
$7,000.
I'll give you five thousand.
-Cash?
-Mm.
Will have to be sent
via wire transfer.
That's how government work
is done, you see.
Union Bank, Lamy, New Mexico.
Okay. This'll take
a few days, Reverend.
Oh, I have total confidence
in you, sir.
Well...
I see you're admiring
my machine!
I ride that thing back and forth
across the border
escorting prisoners.
Saving our government
substantial crossing fees.
Costs a dollar or a gold peso
to cross on a horse.
The bicycle goes gratis!
Thank you, sir,
for your service.
Happy trails!
Strindler!
No, what? Agh!
What?
What is the...
what is the meaning
of this outrage?
You let me out now!
I am the Reverend Strindler!
Hm. Go on.
- All right.
- All right, all right.
-Swindler.
-Hm?
- Swindler!
- Huh?
My name is not Swindler,
it's Strindler.
Be silent.
I'm Samuel S. Vistov,
federal prosecutor from Tucson.
You're in big trouble.
No, I'm not.
I am a man of God
and a successful businessman.
Don't give me any
of your bullshit, Swindler.
I know
you're a confidence man...
wanted in Arizona Territory...
for desecrating a cemetery,
dynamiting a cantina,
and forging a widow's will.
What the devil do you mean?
I-I never forged a widow's will.
Why, sure you did.
I mean to extradite you,
put you on trial,
get a conviction,
and send you off
to the federal prison in Yuma.
Unless...
Unless what?
Well, you see,
my deputies,
they went through
your pockets and bags.
They didn't find a thing.
Now, I know you're down
to your last couple bucks.
Yet back there in the Territory,
you were spending money
like it was, uh,
going out of style.
Also...
You were engaged
in that bunco scheme
involving dead Mexicans.
-Am I right?
-No, no, no.
I can explain that.
You see I work
for the U.S. Census,
and I've been compiling a list
of deceased farm workers.
-I just...
-Oh, horsefeathers!
I don't know what your angle is,
but I sense there's, uh,
money in it.
And I'm prepared to make a deal.
What kind of deal?
Well, you've got
dollars stashed someplace.
Cut me in.
95%.
And I'll let you walk free.
95%?
Sure.
That widow who made those false
statements against you,
I'll have her arrested
and thrown in jail.
And all those other complaints
against you,
I'll just have them dismissed.
And those Mexicans
whom you murdered,
and whose graves you defiled,
well, they can just
swing in the wind.
You can do all this?
I'm a federal prosecutor,
Swindler.
You're just a silly old man,
unsuited for our modern times.
But because I'm kind...
I won't hold this against you.
I'll be back here,
one hour, Swindler.
That's one hour, Swindler.
We'll go dig up that money.
Yeah.
We could even part as friends.
-Reverend Strindler!
-What? What? What?
Agh!
Oh.
Miss Chandler!
I must speak with you,
most urgently.
Reverend, you stand accused
of dreadful deeds.
Yeah, but I can explain.
Five days ago,
you fought a wicked duel
with a young man
whom I esteemed.
He died as a result,
killing our sheriff
in the process.
Ah, yeah, but that's, you see...
The next day, it is said
that you defiled a cemetery,
murdered several Mexicans,
and forged a widow's will.
What? No, I did not forge
a widow's will!
Reverend.
I did not journey
all this distance
simply to dispute with you.
You are accused
of heinous crimes.
And yet, based on
our brief acquaintance,
I believe that there is good
in you.
I've come to hear your story.
Oh.
Benefactress!
I am being
most serious, Reverend.
If I am to assist you,
you must tell the truth.
Who are you?
Why have you done these things?
Oh, Ma'am, I was tempted
by Satan, the Deceiver,
but I swear to you,
I know nothing
of Derringers,
pistols, murderings.
Speak
the truth, Strindler!
What has brought you
to this sorry pass?
You genuinely care to hear?
Yes, I do.
Now, calm yourself,
reflect on how to make peace
with God,
and give some thought
to your poor soul.
Very well, benefactress.
You alone shall hear
Strindler's tale.
As a lad...
I resembled neither
my mother nor my father.
From the beginning,
life gazed on me in a dour
and unwelcoming way.
There was no friend,
no playmate for my childhood.
My father taught me
the eternal maxims.
Not to be caught in a lie.
To show obedience
to my elders.
And to nurture the appearance
of virtue.
At parting, no tear fell
from paternal eyes.
See that you do
your lessons, Strindler.
Don't be naughty,
and stay out of mischief.
And above all, try to please
your teachers and superiors.
I will, Papa.
Shut up and listen!
Don't get too close
to your schoolmates.
Only make friends with those
who are better off.
They can be of use to you.
And above all,
never spend a red cent!
Your friends will betray you,
but money never will.
Yes, Papa.
Silence!
You can do anything,
overcome anything
in this world with money, lad.
Oh, Papa, may I not stay
with you, Mama,
and Uncle Sancho?
Sinful, stupid Strindler!
Wicked boy!
Begone!
Hiya!
Who's here?
Oh!
Hello?
Take a seat.
I didn't tell you to sit down.
She's only kidding.
Sit down, Strindler.
We are engaged in
a highly sensitive project.
Tallying the totals of the dead.
You have some expertise here,
do you not?
Well, yes, I do,
to a certain extent.
-Mm.
Lists of deceased serfs
in Kievan Rus'
delivered to
the Peerage Ministry.
1890, a record of dead Mexicans
in the Arizona Territory
prepared for
the exclusion officer in Texas.
1929, Nicaraguan insurgents
killed by the Marine Corps,
comprehensive tally.
1945, Strindler's list.
Impressive.
Well, thank you.
I do my best.
Our country needs
an accurate estimate
of enemy losses
in the three wars
that we're currently fighting.
How many Russians
have we killed today?
How many Chinese?
How many Peruvians?
And how did they die?
Via ordnance?
Partisan activities?
Or bioweapons tailored
to their genetic provenance?
You want this to be
an accurate list?
Of course.
Accurate figures depicting
best practice on our part.
How we're killing
many more of the enemy
than we originally estimated.
Backed up by solid data,
naturally.
We envision this
as an AI-centric project.
So, you'll have
all the necessary support
you will need to come
to the necessary conclusions.
What's the pay?
$10.15
for every Russian.
$10.06 for a Chinaman.
And for Peruvians,
we'll throw in .000512 bitcoin.
You'll have to set up
a hardware wallet, of course.
- I'll need to think about this.
- Don't think too long.
-But I...
-Don't.
I'll need to think about this.
Well, I'll need to...
I'll...
Huh?
Borracho!
Well, I told you to meet me
behind the Customs House!
This here is the Customs House.
It is?
Yeah. It also be the town jail.
Oh. Oh.
How the fuck
did you get out of there?
Well, it's a long story,
my friend.
Well, get your skinny ass
up here on the buckboard.
Shall we?
So, which ways
we goin' now, Captain?
North, then west.
Why, here comes Johnny Behan.
Well, uh, uh, good morning!
Well, you're up and about
quite early, aren't you?
Oh, well, you know
the Lord's work
waits for no man.
Well, you know,
I wanted to tell you,
those Mexicans, uh,
they all seem to have lit out,
just like you said.
I telegraphed that money
to the church in Lamy.
It'll be waiting for you
when you arrive.
Thank you
so much, sir.
My congregation
will be much obliged.
Oh, uh, well,
I did have to deduct
a small percentage.
Cost of the cable.
Hope you don't mind.
No, no, no, of course, sir.
It's quite all right.
Safe travels, Reverend.
Do I know you?
Oh, this man, uh, uh,
he is Deacon Barr,
one of my most devout,
uh, parishioners.
Oh, well!
Pleased to meet you, Deacon.
Now, if you'll excuse me,
I've got a few Chinamen
to deport.
You're a man
of the future, Strindler.
My door is always open to you.
Come on!
Yah! Yah!
Sure your door's always open.
Johnny fucking Behan!
That little shit
used to be the governor
of the goddamn Yuma Jail!
What the fuck's he up to now?
Government work.
- Hola! Good morning.
- Hola, amigo.
Okay, this one is a cook.
The two, I reckon,
are good for laundry.
Gracias.
Adios, amigo.
So, west to Roswell,
then north to Lamy?
Sounds about right.
And you have no idea
how he acquired the key?
None, Mr. Prosecutor.
I addressed him
via the prison bars.
Where do you think he went?
Mexico.
Yes, surely Strindler
is bound for Sonora.
Thank you, Ma'am.
You've been
of considerable assistance.
It is my pleasure, sir.
I had
the worst dream last night.
You was in it.
We was in some big city,
Denver, Blackhawk, maybe.
And there was these big mansions
rising way up high.
And yet...
everywhere you looked,
there was poor people,
sleeping on the streets,
living in tents.
And the worst thing
of it were...
it weren't just Denver, sir.
It was like that
all over the world.
Everywhere.
Oh, what you've
experienced, Borracho,
is what the French
would call a cauchemar,
fever dream!
You can rest assured, my friend,
such things will never happen.
Well, I sure hope
you're right, Professor.
I sure do.
Care for a pinch?
No, thank you kindly, Captain.
To each his own devices.
Did you compose that song
yourself, Borracho?
Indeed I did, Reverend.
Would you like
to hear some more?
Absolutely.
What'd I tell you?
Stay back, Princess.
Good and dead.
Mr. Swindler.
Let's see if you got
that bank book on you now.
All right.
Surprise!
Shit!
Shit!
No!
Ah.
Ah!
You see?
I am no swindler.
I am Strindler.
Strindler.
Oh!
I am Strindler.
Strindler.
Strindler.
Strindler!
I am Strindler!
Strindler.
Strindler!
Strindler!
Ha!
Oh!
Hello!
What can I do you for?
If it's grub you're after,
sorry, no food here today.
But over there at the Owl Club,
they'll feed you.
Three meals a day, 50 cents.
Is it a room you're looking for?
All right. It's two dollars
a night.
Or if you want to stay the week,
it's 12, paid in advance.
Sundays is free.
I like the sound of that.
I'll put you down for the week.
Make your mark
in the book there.
Hm.
What's that say there?
Strindler.
My name is Strindler.
Oh, all right, Strindler.
I'll show you the room.
Right this way.
It's pretty good,
it's got a window.
I think you'll like it.
Is there a bed?
There's a bed.
Darn it, Borracho,
get off my porch.
I don't care! Get a job!
Who the hell
do you think you are?
More cabbage soup?
No.
Brains with peas.
Got a question.
Ask away.
Who's the big cheese
around here?
Do you like some cheese?
No.
No, I asked you
who the big cheese is.
The jefe.
Ah, Oso y Chandler.
Who's Oso?
Runs the mine.
And Chandler?
Uh, he owns the big ranch
outside town.
Hm. Come here much?
Oso does.
Most days he plays cards
with the sheriff and mayor.
You still want that cheese?
Mm-mm.
How about some more brains?
No, thank you,
I have enough already.
Vale.
Not again.
May I join you?
This is draw poker.
Three-card draw
if you don't want to show,
four if you've an ace.
But if you got the ace, you have
to share it with the players.
Sure.
Got that right.
We don't like no snakes
in the weeds at this table.
Well,
I'm of the same mind, sir.
Hm.
Ante.
Ain't no card
helping this hand...
No. I'm out.
Me too.
Beginner's luck.
Breeding cattle dogs.
They say they mix 'em
with English Collies
and Australian dingoes.
Oh, that must make
a very impressive breed.
Your deal.
Ante up.
Ah, thank you, sir.
Oh, excuse me.
You, uh, played this game
before, mister?
Well, um...
Not lately.
Ante.
Open-pit system
versus the old-fashioned
style of mining.
I imagine that leads
to excellent mineral extraction.
None for me.
I'm out.
Gentlemen.
Nice playing with you, mister.
I didn't catch your handle.
Oh, my name is Strindler.
I'm Avery Senator,
mayor of this city.
This here is Sheriff Purdy.
And Mr. Oso.
So, uh, what line of work
you in, Mr. Strindler?
I'm in, uh,
government work, sir.
Is that right?
Staying long?
Just about a week.
Well, that's just dandy.
Why don't you stop by my office
on the morrow, Mr. Strindler?
Our city's wide open
for government work,
contracts of any kind.
I shall see you tomorrow, sir.
Fella talks funny.
He walks funny.
Dresses funny.
496, 497, 498.
499, 500.
501, 502, 503.
504, 505, 506.
The town hall, sir?
The town hall, sir?
Uh, it's down there.
Get the fuck... it's down there.
Thank you.
Ow!
Hey!
Hey! Hey, stranger!
You in need of a coffin?
City Hall?
Thataway.
Who are you laughin' at?
Uh, a pleasure,
a real pleasure, Mr...
Strindler.
Strindler,
of course.
Quite right.
Uh, pull up a chair.
Enjoyed our game last night.
Um...
Grab a glass.
How about a sharpener?
Ah, thank you, sir.
How did your take our sheriff?
He's an educated man, you know.
Were you to visit his house,
the quantity of books he has
would strike you.
Unusual for a peace officer.
Yes, speaks well of him.
I asked because you mentioned
you're a government man.
There was that little business
here a couple of months back.
That's not what brought you
here, I hope.
No.
Excellent.
Excellent!
The sheriff was
entirely justified,
and it was only Mexicans,
but things get blown
out of proportion, and...
And the Zamora brothers are
well known as troublemakers.
-To progress.
-Oh, to progress, sir.
Mm.
Ah.
Is it the railroad, then?
Railroad?
That's what I guessed
you were about.
It bypassed us, you see,
but not by far.
If we could persuade
the company to, uh,
reroute the line,
or to create a spur...
Mr. Mayor,
you mentioned Mexicans.
Are there many?
Mexicans? Why, yes.
See, we're so close
to the border, and shorthanded.
Terrible shorthanded,
as far as workers go.
White men are few
and far between.
So you hire many.
Personally, no,
I've none in my employ.
White men are few, as I observe,
but you can bet
I go out of my way
to hire 'em for all city work.
Oh, yes, indeed!
So, uh, who does employ
these Mexicans?
The mines,
mostly.
And Chandler's ranch.
Now, pertaining
to the railroad...
I see you have The Whale
by Mr. Melville.
This is a splendid
and prophetic book.
The fish wins.
Aye, 'tis a favorite of mine.
Beside it is a copy
of With Walker in Nicaragua
by Ephraim Squier.
A signed, first edition,
published the same year.
Impressive.
And to think that
all this happened only,
what, 40 years ago?
By God, I wish
I'd gone with them.
They all died,
of course.
The man
who fears death is not alive.
Let's cut to the quick,
Strindler.
Are you here
about that Mexican business?
What Mexican business, sir?
Involving
the Zamora brothers.
I heard one of their sisters
went up Tucson way
looking for
a federal prosecutor.
No, no, no, no, no,
I'm not here about that,
although Mexicans
do interest me.
How so?
Well, as you know,
I work for our government.
Have you a list
of Mexicans who died?
Those who were shot or hanged?
Well, there was
that Zamora brother.
He's dead, but I don't
keep a count.
- Who might?
- Our doctor tends to 'em.
He probably keeps a list.
I'd like to meet
your doctor, sir.
The corral.
They'll rent you a horse.
I'm an excellent rider,
you know.
That's what I hear.
Try this on.
Hey, mount her
from the left there, partner.
- From the left, you say?
- From the left.
From the left, yes,
mounting from the left.
They get a little skittish
otherwise.
Oh! Oh.
You have done this before, yeah?
Well... not lately.
Hm.
I got another possibility.
A wagon might be a better bet.
A wagon?
So... where do you want to go?
To the doctor's.
Is it far?
Not far.
Not near, neither.
Someone tells you
they lives 15 miles away,
it's more like 30.
Hm. And what's
your doctor's name?
Hell! I don't know.
Everyone calls him Doc.
And your name, sir?
My name
is Hedley Presner Felman
the Third.
Folks 'round here
call me Borracho.
-Borracho?
-Mm-hm.
It's Mexican for "intelligent."
I am Strindler, ma'am.
So, Doctor, of what
do your patients die?
Yes, well, my patients die
from many causes.
There's old age,
exhaustion, epidemic.
We have deadly fever, smallpox,
um, tuberculosis.
Uh, we have many seasonal
reasons for death here.
There's snake bites,
buggy accidents.
Syphilis!
Why do you ask?
Oh, just curiosity.
How did our mayor strike you,
Mr. Strindler?
Oh, he seems
a very worthy man, ma'am.
Oh, please call me Rebecca.
And our sheriff?
Why, he seems intelligent
and well-read.
Mm, yes.
Oh, well, I wish we had
more books in the house, but...
Well, my husband does...
He does not approve of them.
But, uh, did you meet his wife?
No, I did not.
But I imagine that she, too,
is intelligent and well-read.
Rebecca, offer this gentleman
a libation.
Oh, would you care
for a temperance drink?
Yes, you will enjoy this.
It was formulated
by a Georgian pharmacist.
It's a mixture
of the coca leaf from Peru
and the cola nut
from West Africa.
Effervescent.
Sparks the energy.
Better than tea.
Our boys thrive on this.
-There you go.
-Enchant.
Oh, what precious children
you have!
Themistocles is 11,
and Alcides is also 11.
Themistocles, what is
the capital of France?
Paris.
Alcides,
the capital of Germany?
Paris.
Such clever children.
-Boys.
-Boys!
I'm sure they will go far.
Thank you for saying that.
Themistocles especially has
a very sharp mind.
Small bugs, insects,
all of that fascinates him.
Excuse me, gentlemen.
Themistocles, come back here.
So, uh, offer you a pipe?
Uh, no, no, no.
No thank you, uh, sir.
I don't, uh, I don't smoke.
Well, why not?
I never
was inclined.
Well, you should.
It's, uh, good for you.
Cleanses the lungs.
Better than that snuff.
Hmm, yes.
Well...
Doctor...
About these Mexicans...
Yes, the Mexicans.
Well, they live
in appalling conditions.
Entirely without morals.
Prone to every disease
imaginable.
That's why so many of 'em die.
Well, that's what
interests me, sir.
I represent a funeral company.
We sell coffins and headstones,
largely to the Hispanic market.
Mm, growth industry.
Yes, it is, sir.
If you could provide me with
a list of deceased Mexicans,
including their birth dates
and places of residence,
I'd be much obliged.
Well, I don't know how
that would be any use to you.
You'd need a list
of the live ones.
Ah, yeah, well, you see,
my colleague,
he deals with that.
Oh, I see. Well...
Um, I suppose
I could ask around.
I'll give you two bits apiece.
-A dollar.
-Fifty cents.
Deal.
When do you need the list by?
Immediately.
Boys, ha-ha, when next we meet,
I'll bring you both a pistol
and a drum.
Let's go, Borracho.
Ya! Ya! Ya!
Whoa!
Do those look like the remains
of a... of a Mexican to you?
Him look more
like a Chinaman to me.
No use to me.
You might be interested
in the Widow.
She hires lots of Mexicans.
There's a widow?
What I just said.
Down the road apiece.
And your name is what?
I guess you must be
a tax collector.
No, no, no, I am
no tax collector, ma'am.
My name is Strindler,
and I'm traveling on business.
Ah! So you're a buyer.
I'm sorry to say
I sold the last of the honey.
I may have some hemp left.
A few pounds.
I'm interested in commodities
of a different kind, ma'am.
Your Mexicans been dying on you?
I can't barely keep them alive.
Eighteen died on me
just this year.
Good workers, too.
Last week, my blacksmith
went and burned up.
A fire? Oh, dear me.
I didn't say we had a fire.
God spared us that misfortune.
Gonzales burned himself up
on his own.
Too much to drink.
A blue flame came up out of him,
and he turned to charcoal.
Best farrier I ever had.
Now, are you sure
you don't need any hemp?
Yes, yes, yes,
I am entirely sure
that I do not need any hemp.
However, I wonder
if you know the names
of those 18 Mexicans
of yours who died.
-Of course I do. Why?
-I'll take 'em off your hands.
How can you do that?
They're dead.
If you'll give me a list
of all 18,
their names, ages, home towns,
I'll give you money for them.
Do you intend to dig them up?
No, no, no, no,
all I need is their names.
What for?
Well, ma'am, that's my business.
But they're dead.
I will give you 10 dollars
for all 18.
Well, Mr. Strangler,
we have a deal.
So, where
we headed now, Oso's mine?
What makes you think that?
I don't know.
We been just about
everywhere else.
I just figured
it was next on the list.
But for what?
Sir, I have a contract
with the Mexican government.
I am tasked to make this list
of their nationals
who pass away abroad.
The government will share
this list with their families,
who are naturally concerned.
Bullshit.
Mexican government don't give
a damn about these people,
and neither do you.
Give you 50 cents a head.
Ten dollars.
Oh, you can't be serious, sir.
Why not?
See, I got something you want,
and, uh, well,
you're not being upfront
about why you want it.
You could be a criminal,
for all I know.
What if you're one of them
grave robbers?
I'm no body snatcher, sir.
All I need are names.
That's all you'll get.
Most of my Mexicans die
when the mines cave in.
Still buried
a mile below ground.
Good luck getting them out.
What do you make of our mayor?
-He seems like a worthy man.
-He's a bandit.
What about our sheriff?
He appears educated, honest.
No, he's ten times worse.
Stick around
and you'll find out.
The only honest man
in these parts
is the federal prosecutor
from Tucson,
and he is a fuckin' swine.
Hm.
You, uh, met
our rancher yet? Chandler?
No, no, I haven't had
that privilege.
Biggest miser
you never wish to meet.
Richest man in the territory
and he eats worse
than his peones.
He hires Mexicans?
Hundreds.
The convicts in Purdy's jail
live better than they do.
He starves 'em,
and they die like flies.
Is his ranch far?
About ten miles down the road.
Five dollars a head,
and that's my final offer.
Oh, be serious, sir.
These are dead men's names.
Damn good
dead men, too.
Expert miners.
Villareal, he was
a top-notch pit boss.
Sandoval ran the mines
in Cananea.
And Puente...
Puente was the best damn
cap-man I ever saw.
I'll give you 75 cents.
Dollar apiece.
Agreed.
-Can you make a list?
-Already done.
Heard what you was up to
and tallied 'em last night.
-Sixty names.
-Hm.
Twenty.
Forty.
Sixty.
I'll get the list.
Go ahead. Take a couple sticks.
I like you.
So, did you make
good trade, boss?
Mr. Oso drives
a hard bargain.
Hmph.
Is Chandler's ranch very far?
It's 'bout ten miles or so,
I reckon.
Hm.
Slow down here,
slow down, would you?
There's a wagon coming. See?
I knows my business.
Heh, look at you!
You're down in the ditch now.
What you galloping
at such a clip for?
You drunk or what?
-Quick as you can!
-I know what I'm doin'.
Can't you see we're in a hurry?
Good afternoon, ma'am.
So sorry
about this inconvenience.
It matters not a whit.
The Lord works
in mysterious ways.
Oh, he most certainly does.
Hey! You!
Give us a hand here.
Son of a bitch.
My name is Strindler, ma'am.
Rose. Rose Chandler.
Very pleased to...
Give 'em a touch of the whip!
Hi-yah!
Why were you so rude
to that man?
He wasn't to blame.
Got 'em movin', boss!
They calls that one The Kid.
He rides
for Chandler's brand, hm.
You best stay clear of him.
Why?
Well, he was on Purdy's posse.
Now, that little shitbird
killed Segundo Zamora.
Shot him right between the eyes.
Huh.
And who's the young lady?
Oh.
Rose is her name.
That there is
Chandler's daughter.
You don't say.
Ain't gonna make
no headway there.
Who is that man?
That there be Valdez.
He be the foreman of the ranch.
Yo, Valdez.
Gracias, tonto.
De nada, jerkoff.
Him says,
"Chandler ain't at the ranch."
He's gone into town.
There's gonna be a chautauqua
tonight, I reckon.
What's a chautauqua?
Ah, you'll find out.
"The west yet glimmers
with some streaks of day.
Now spurs
the lated traveler apace
to gain the timely inn."
Hamlet ?
That be Macbeth, sir.
Well, lead on, Macduff!
"And when at night,
our good day done,
I guard my master's head.
'Tis better than
the eider duck's deep pillow
to have shared.
To foe of his, I'm deadly foe.
None stir the second time
on whom I lay a yellow eye
or an emphatic thumb.
Though I than he
may longer live,
He longer must, than I.
For I have the power to kill
without the power to die"
A beautiful reading
by Sheriff Purdy,
who is standing for reelection,
as I'm sure you know!
But what was the name
of that poem, Sheriff?
Ah! "My Life Had Stood
a Loaded Gun,"
by the late
Miss Emily Dickinson.
Ah!
Next on our agenda of auditory
and intellectual delight,
Miss Rose Chandler will
be entertaining us with a hymn.
What is the hymn called,
Miss Rose?
Mr. Mayor,
the name of the hymn is
"Gladly My Little Cross
I'd Bear."
That's him.
He's been going
around buying up dead Mexicans.
I sold him 18 for $10.
But I hear he's paying
a lot more.
Pull up a chair!
You know our sheriff?
-Of course, yes, yes.
-This here's Colonel Chandler.
I am Strindler, sir.
What's he want Mexes for?
Who cares?
All I know is, he shorted me,
and him a millionaire.
Sensitive and exquisitely
interpreted, mademoiselle!
Thank you.
And now,
Mr. Crocker will enthrall us all
with his popular rendition of...
Uh...
"The Night on Bare Mountain."
Applause for Mr. Crocker!
Diogenes. Now, that
was a philosopher.
Right, Strindler?
Diogenes! Yes, indeed, Sheriff.
Well! If it ain't
the millionaire.
I hear you're buying Mexicans.
Regarding Diogenes,
you know, by, uh...
In his day, he walked through
the streets in daylight
carrying a lamp, you know why?
He was looking
for one honest man.
What did he want the lamp for,
if it was daylight?
Hey, Pops! I'm talkin' to you.
What you gonna do with all them
dead corpses you been buyin' up?
If you'll excuse me,
I'll be with you shortly.
Who you calling "Shorty"?
If it's dead Mexicans
you're buyin',
I sure can sell you a few!
-That's enough, Kid!
-No, it ain't!
C'mon, Pops.
Gimme a kiss!
Fill your hand,
you son of a bitch!
I beg your pardon?
I said, make your play!
I-I... But what...
He means he wants you
to shoot it out with him!
But I'm unarmed!
Well then, heel yourself,
you damn cobarde.
And I'll see you on that street.
Tomorrow, 10 a.m.
Get out of my way.
Tequila, please.
Mezcal, then.
Y Zamora?
Join you?
It's solitaire.
I didn't tell you to sit down.
Sit down.
Looks like you have a job
you want done.
I heard about you.
You're the gringo who goes
around making lists of people.
Sounds like you got in trouble
with The Kid.
The Kid murdered my brother.
My condolences.
You want to talk?
Hands up!
So, Strindler. You have done
this before, right?
Well, not, not lately, no.
Well, what it is,
you two will stand back to back.
You take your ten paces.
And on the tenth step, you stop,
turn, draw your weapon,
and fire.
Now, I beg your pardon, sir.
There's a railroad spur
about ten miles up the road.
I could run you up there.
Look, Mr. Borracho's
got a point.
You might want to hedge
your bets.
No, no. But, gentlemen,
I appreciate your concern.
But my work here
is not yet done.
Why are you both looking out
of the window like that?
Gentlemen.
Let's go over the rules.
Back to back, ten paces,
I count 'em.
I get to ten, you turn and fire,
understood?
Yes.
Let's get to it.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Eight.
I knew it, you bastard!
Nine.
Ten.
And so it seems that after
Mr. Strindler shot The Kid
in self-defense,
in a fair duel
initiated by The Kid,
the latter's gun went off
in his expiring hand,
and the stray bullet
accidentally killed our sheriff.
Any objections?
Mr. Strindler is exonerated.
Let's go get a drink.
Yeah!
Come on, brother,
let's go get one.
-Here's to the sheriff's health.
-Pardon?
Here's
to the sheriff's health!
Oh, yeah, yeah.
Cheers! To the sheriff.
I'm taking up a collection
for his wife.
The poor woman
is all alone in the world.
Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, sir.
But unfortunately, my resources
are a little depleted.
-Could I get another one, too?
-Of course.
Still planning on staying long?
Oh, couple days,
couple days. Why?
Oh, no reason.
I hear we can expect a visit
from our federal prosecutor.
Really?
Perhaps you'll have
the opportunity to meet.
Maybe we will, sir.
Do you know what?
I think I've misplaced my snuff.
Would you excuse me?
I'll have another.
Hey, look here, old boy.
Give me a hand
with this skinflint, will you?
I'm running real low on funds.
I know you know how that is.
Mister, uh...
Oh. Strindler, sir!
The-the Reverend Strindler!
Won't you be seated?
Uh, thank you.
I rarely
entertain guests, Reverend.
Oh, I understand, sir, your--
your ranch must--
must keep you very busy.
To be frank,
I see no point in it.
People who drop by
neglect their own business
and expect me
to give their horses hay.
Oh, well,
there'll be no need for that.
That's good,
because there ain't any.
My Mexicans are a lazy crew,
half drunk most of the time
and useless for work.
Oh!
And yet, you employ hundreds.
-Oh, not nearly that many.
Half of 'em have run off
or died of the fever.
Well, sir,
that is why I am here.
I represent a religious charity
honoring those poor,
devout Mexican field workers
who pass away
for the good
of their immortal souls.
Total rubbish.
What is wrong with you, man?
Oh, I-I don't quite understand.
You have a portrait of
our Lord here upon on your wall.
My daughter
put the damn thing up there.
Or my departed wife.
I do not recall.
Superstitious nonsense!
I do not hold with it.
Oh, and how is
your daughter, sir?
She refuses to see anyone.
It seems she was sweet
on that young idiot
who got his head shot off.
You killed him, didn't you?
-Care for a little snuff?
-I never touch the filthy stuff.
Quite right, too, sir!
Regarding The Kid, I feel
that his demise was inevitable.
These are violent times,
and righteous persons
like ourselves...
I do not hold
with righteousness, neither.
It is just a veil
for hypocrisy and bullshit.
How many dead Mexicans you got?
Approximately 80, why?
Give you 75 cents apiece
for their names and birthplaces.
- 75 cents, seriously?
- Yes.
Oh, well, in that case...
I may have as many as 120.
That's fine, sir.
My offer still stands.
I must consult with my foreman.
Valdez! Valdez!
Valdez, donde esta?
Sir, we have a deal.
A done deal, sir!
Valdez! Donde esta?
S, jefe. Que paso?
-S, jefe.
-Rpido! ndale!
S, jefe.
We must celebrate with a drink!
I would offer you dinner,
but we have no food here.
It's quite all right, sir,
the list will be sufficient.
Nonsense! Nonsense!
We really must have a drink.
My wife made this
some 17 years ago.
Over time, it collected some
bugs and shit in there, but...
I scooped all that out,
and it is very clean now.
Very clean.
Cheers, Mr. Strindler.
Cheers, Colonel!
You don't look so good.
I don't feel so good.
Who is that man?
I have no idea.
He claims to be a preacher.
-And yet, he killed The Kid.
-Good thing, too.
The Kid was a braggart
and a lousy hand.
At least he's a decent shot,
more than you can say
for most God-botherers.
You didn't give him
any of that stuff,
did you?
Why not?
It was good when your mother
made it 17 years ago,
it's still good today.
Get away!
So.
You do good business in there?
-Care for a shot?
-Yeah.
All right.
Borracho.
Tomorrow, you must take me
to the railroad station.
Sure. Then you done with me?
Not at all, good Borracho.
After you leave me there,
I want you to go directly
to El Paso, Texas.
Get there in two days' time.
You know where that is?
Happens I do. But-but why?
Why don't we go together?
That is none of your concern.
Stop the wagon, please!
We ain't movin', boss.
God.
All right, day after tomorrow.
El Paso, Texas,
behind the Customs House.
Agreed?
Whatever, general.
Haw!
Leaving town, amigo?
Not quite yet.
Come have a drink with me.
Before you go,
we need to reach
an understanding.
What's the matter?
Don't you like music?
No.
Shh!
I've been thinking.
Seems to me the money
you gave me was a down payment.
A prelude to our partnership.
You bought a lot
of dead souls here.
My people's souls.
You paid a tidy sum.
So, there's money to be made.
You're leaving town tomorrow,
and the road is dangerous.
We'll go together.
I figured you're going
to where our money is.
So, we both go.
Share it.
Fifty-fifty.
Like amigos.
Or I kill you.
Good morning.
That's what he did.
Made a fool of himself
and the...
Officer Behan will be with you
in just a moment, Minister.
Well, thank you, my child.
Ah.
Hoo.
Sorry to keep you
waiting, Reverend.
-It's quite all right, sir.
-Government work, you know.
Please, have a seat.
Now how may I assist?
Well, I, uh,
I sent you a letter.
Oh, but you most certainly did.
Gracias.
"Dear Officer Behan,
I have the honor
of contacting you
at the request of members
of my church,
the Fraternal Fellowship
of Universal Brotherhood.
My fellowship dedicates itself
to reforming former Catholics
and inducing them
to right their wrongs.
At my intervention,
many Mexicans,
illegally present
in the Arizona Territory...
have returned to their homes.
I look forward to meeting you
and presenting a written record
of these Mexicans,
whom I have persuaded
to depart the state,
in the pursuit of our
government's worthy goals.
Sincerely,
the Reverend Strindler."
Above a picture
of a mestizo child,
a little motto:
"Gladly My Little Cross
I'd Bear."
Hm.
Well, congratulations, Reverend.
Good work.
Sir.
I have here a list
of 750 Mexicans,
including their birth places
and birth dates,
whom I have brought to Jesus
and returned home.
Ah!
Well! Commendable.
But I am the, uh,
Chinese exclusionary officer.
So I don't deal in Mexicans.
How much do they pay you
per Chinaman?
$10.15.
And that's for tracking them
down and deporting them.
You see, uh,
the problem with Mexicans,
as I'm sure you're aware,
is that they aren't counted
on the Census.
This makes them very difficult
to exclude.
But in many ways, they're worse
than the Chinese.
They have the tendency
to intermarry.
Mm.
This increases the number
of half breeds,
adding to the disorder.
Why not make an exception
in this case?
Hm.
How much do you want
for the whole list?
$7,000.
I'll give you five thousand.
-Cash?
-Mm.
Will have to be sent
via wire transfer.
That's how government work
is done, you see.
Union Bank, Lamy, New Mexico.
Okay. This'll take
a few days, Reverend.
Oh, I have total confidence
in you, sir.
Well...
I see you're admiring
my machine!
I ride that thing back and forth
across the border
escorting prisoners.
Saving our government
substantial crossing fees.
Costs a dollar or a gold peso
to cross on a horse.
The bicycle goes gratis!
Thank you, sir,
for your service.
Happy trails!
Strindler!
No, what? Agh!
What?
What is the...
what is the meaning
of this outrage?
You let me out now!
I am the Reverend Strindler!
Hm. Go on.
- All right.
- All right, all right.
-Swindler.
-Hm?
- Swindler!
- Huh?
My name is not Swindler,
it's Strindler.
Be silent.
I'm Samuel S. Vistov,
federal prosecutor from Tucson.
You're in big trouble.
No, I'm not.
I am a man of God
and a successful businessman.
Don't give me any
of your bullshit, Swindler.
I know
you're a confidence man...
wanted in Arizona Territory...
for desecrating a cemetery,
dynamiting a cantina,
and forging a widow's will.
What the devil do you mean?
I-I never forged a widow's will.
Why, sure you did.
I mean to extradite you,
put you on trial,
get a conviction,
and send you off
to the federal prison in Yuma.
Unless...
Unless what?
Well, you see,
my deputies,
they went through
your pockets and bags.
They didn't find a thing.
Now, I know you're down
to your last couple bucks.
Yet back there in the Territory,
you were spending money
like it was, uh,
going out of style.
Also...
You were engaged
in that bunco scheme
involving dead Mexicans.
-Am I right?
-No, no, no.
I can explain that.
You see I work
for the U.S. Census,
and I've been compiling a list
of deceased farm workers.
-I just...
-Oh, horsefeathers!
I don't know what your angle is,
but I sense there's, uh,
money in it.
And I'm prepared to make a deal.
What kind of deal?
Well, you've got
dollars stashed someplace.
Cut me in.
95%.
And I'll let you walk free.
95%?
Sure.
That widow who made those false
statements against you,
I'll have her arrested
and thrown in jail.
And all those other complaints
against you,
I'll just have them dismissed.
And those Mexicans
whom you murdered,
and whose graves you defiled,
well, they can just
swing in the wind.
You can do all this?
I'm a federal prosecutor,
Swindler.
You're just a silly old man,
unsuited for our modern times.
But because I'm kind...
I won't hold this against you.
I'll be back here,
one hour, Swindler.
That's one hour, Swindler.
We'll go dig up that money.
Yeah.
We could even part as friends.
-Reverend Strindler!
-What? What? What?
Agh!
Oh.
Miss Chandler!
I must speak with you,
most urgently.
Reverend, you stand accused
of dreadful deeds.
Yeah, but I can explain.
Five days ago,
you fought a wicked duel
with a young man
whom I esteemed.
He died as a result,
killing our sheriff
in the process.
Ah, yeah, but that's, you see...
The next day, it is said
that you defiled a cemetery,
murdered several Mexicans,
and forged a widow's will.
What? No, I did not forge
a widow's will!
Reverend.
I did not journey
all this distance
simply to dispute with you.
You are accused
of heinous crimes.
And yet, based on
our brief acquaintance,
I believe that there is good
in you.
I've come to hear your story.
Oh.
Benefactress!
I am being
most serious, Reverend.
If I am to assist you,
you must tell the truth.
Who are you?
Why have you done these things?
Oh, Ma'am, I was tempted
by Satan, the Deceiver,
but I swear to you,
I know nothing
of Derringers,
pistols, murderings.
Speak
the truth, Strindler!
What has brought you
to this sorry pass?
You genuinely care to hear?
Yes, I do.
Now, calm yourself,
reflect on how to make peace
with God,
and give some thought
to your poor soul.
Very well, benefactress.
You alone shall hear
Strindler's tale.
As a lad...
I resembled neither
my mother nor my father.
From the beginning,
life gazed on me in a dour
and unwelcoming way.
There was no friend,
no playmate for my childhood.
My father taught me
the eternal maxims.
Not to be caught in a lie.
To show obedience
to my elders.
And to nurture the appearance
of virtue.
At parting, no tear fell
from paternal eyes.
See that you do
your lessons, Strindler.
Don't be naughty,
and stay out of mischief.
And above all, try to please
your teachers and superiors.
I will, Papa.
Shut up and listen!
Don't get too close
to your schoolmates.
Only make friends with those
who are better off.
They can be of use to you.
And above all,
never spend a red cent!
Your friends will betray you,
but money never will.
Yes, Papa.
Silence!
You can do anything,
overcome anything
in this world with money, lad.
Oh, Papa, may I not stay
with you, Mama,
and Uncle Sancho?
Sinful, stupid Strindler!
Wicked boy!
Begone!
Hiya!
Who's here?
Oh!
Hello?
Take a seat.
I didn't tell you to sit down.
She's only kidding.
Sit down, Strindler.
We are engaged in
a highly sensitive project.
Tallying the totals of the dead.
You have some expertise here,
do you not?
Well, yes, I do,
to a certain extent.
-Mm.
Lists of deceased serfs
in Kievan Rus'
delivered to
the Peerage Ministry.
1890, a record of dead Mexicans
in the Arizona Territory
prepared for
the exclusion officer in Texas.
1929, Nicaraguan insurgents
killed by the Marine Corps,
comprehensive tally.
1945, Strindler's list.
Impressive.
Well, thank you.
I do my best.
Our country needs
an accurate estimate
of enemy losses
in the three wars
that we're currently fighting.
How many Russians
have we killed today?
How many Chinese?
How many Peruvians?
And how did they die?
Via ordnance?
Partisan activities?
Or bioweapons tailored
to their genetic provenance?
You want this to be
an accurate list?
Of course.
Accurate figures depicting
best practice on our part.
How we're killing
many more of the enemy
than we originally estimated.
Backed up by solid data,
naturally.
We envision this
as an AI-centric project.
So, you'll have
all the necessary support
you will need to come
to the necessary conclusions.
What's the pay?
$10.15
for every Russian.
$10.06 for a Chinaman.
And for Peruvians,
we'll throw in .000512 bitcoin.
You'll have to set up
a hardware wallet, of course.
- I'll need to think about this.
- Don't think too long.
-But I...
-Don't.
I'll need to think about this.
Well, I'll need to...
I'll...
Huh?
Borracho!
Well, I told you to meet me
behind the Customs House!
This here is the Customs House.
It is?
Yeah. It also be the town jail.
Oh. Oh.
How the fuck
did you get out of there?
Well, it's a long story,
my friend.
Well, get your skinny ass
up here on the buckboard.
Shall we?
So, which ways
we goin' now, Captain?
North, then west.
Why, here comes Johnny Behan.
Well, uh, uh, good morning!
Well, you're up and about
quite early, aren't you?
Oh, well, you know
the Lord's work
waits for no man.
Well, you know,
I wanted to tell you,
those Mexicans, uh,
they all seem to have lit out,
just like you said.
I telegraphed that money
to the church in Lamy.
It'll be waiting for you
when you arrive.
Thank you
so much, sir.
My congregation
will be much obliged.
Oh, uh, well,
I did have to deduct
a small percentage.
Cost of the cable.
Hope you don't mind.
No, no, no, of course, sir.
It's quite all right.
Safe travels, Reverend.
Do I know you?
Oh, this man, uh, uh,
he is Deacon Barr,
one of my most devout,
uh, parishioners.
Oh, well!
Pleased to meet you, Deacon.
Now, if you'll excuse me,
I've got a few Chinamen
to deport.
You're a man
of the future, Strindler.
My door is always open to you.
Come on!
Yah! Yah!
Sure your door's always open.
Johnny fucking Behan!
That little shit
used to be the governor
of the goddamn Yuma Jail!
What the fuck's he up to now?
Government work.
- Hola! Good morning.
- Hola, amigo.
Okay, this one is a cook.
The two, I reckon,
are good for laundry.
Gracias.
Adios, amigo.
So, west to Roswell,
then north to Lamy?
Sounds about right.
And you have no idea
how he acquired the key?
None, Mr. Prosecutor.
I addressed him
via the prison bars.
Where do you think he went?
Mexico.
Yes, surely Strindler
is bound for Sonora.
Thank you, Ma'am.
You've been
of considerable assistance.
It is my pleasure, sir.
I had
the worst dream last night.
You was in it.
We was in some big city,
Denver, Blackhawk, maybe.
And there was these big mansions
rising way up high.
And yet...
everywhere you looked,
there was poor people,
sleeping on the streets,
living in tents.
And the worst thing
of it were...
it weren't just Denver, sir.
It was like that
all over the world.
Everywhere.
Oh, what you've
experienced, Borracho,
is what the French
would call a cauchemar,
fever dream!
You can rest assured, my friend,
such things will never happen.
Well, I sure hope
you're right, Professor.
I sure do.
Care for a pinch?
No, thank you kindly, Captain.
To each his own devices.
Did you compose that song
yourself, Borracho?
Indeed I did, Reverend.
Would you like
to hear some more?
Absolutely.
What'd I tell you?
Stay back, Princess.
Good and dead.
Mr. Swindler.
Let's see if you got
that bank book on you now.
All right.
Surprise!
Shit!
Shit!
No!
Ah.
Ah!
You see?
I am no swindler.
I am Strindler.
Strindler.
Oh!
I am Strindler.
Strindler.
Strindler.
Strindler!
I am Strindler!
Strindler.
Strindler!
Strindler!
Ha!