02x01 - A Lie Agreed Upon (Part I)

[bunniefuu]

(neighs)

(men shouting)

- Morning.
- Good morning, Mr. Bullock.

Sofia:
"Ox, box, fox."

- Mr. Bullock.
- Good morning.

Good morning, Sofia.
Sorry to interrupt your lesson.

We're finished.

No, we're not, Sofia,
and we'll continue downstairs.

Adams: Hills get divided
into three counties.

Each county has a commissioner.

- Al: Appointed by f*cking who?
- The governor.

When the f*ck does that happen?

It already did.

Anyone I know?

They're all from Yankton.

Well, being as you're the bearer
of unsettling news,

why don't you step the f*ck inside?

No one from
the f*cking Hills, huh?

All Pennington's people.

Saves time.

Just travel to one destination,
m*rder the three of them.

See how they like being
commissioner after they're dead.

Coach coming, Lila.

With your friend and her girls?

I don't know.
It's still way up in the hills.

You want me to come
watch with you?

Oh, no no.

Well, okay.

Well, do whatever you want,
but I'll wait outside for you.

All the invoices other than
this mission from Hendy Iron

- have been acted on.
- I see.

You'll note I've made
partial payment to them...

Yes.

...questioning a possible duplication.

- For the bill hooks?
- Yes.

Is that my worth?

That's the amount on deposit.

Your worth is considerably more.

Thank you for your attention
in all these matters, Mr. Bullock.

You're welcome.

He wrote you a letter--

- Pennington.
- That you held from me till now?

To say what I knew first.

Please be seated.

Yes, it has fallen to this.

(sighs)

- AW: Damn.
- (insects buzzing)

EB:
Mr. Ellsworth!

Is the Garret gold in readiness
for shipment to Denver?

- (rhythmic thumping)
- That it is.

I would expect a delay before the owner
blesses its passage.

While little Sofia is off
with her tutor,

Mrs. Garret "consults"
with Mr. Bullock.

All right.

In Bullock's capacity, of course,
as her claim's trustee.

That's all the cleverness on that
subject I'm inclined to hear from you.

(moaning)

Sofia: "Fat. Cat."

Biscuits? Piping fresh.

Yeah, when both of us
was young.

(snorts)

(sighs)

Ah!

Anyways, I could use a bath--

"I urge you, Mr. Swearengen,
not to take as injury to your interests

my appointing only men from Yankton.
For not being of the region,

such men serving as commissioners

I hold less likely to obstruct
those like yourself

who actively pursue
their destinies in the Hills.

In those brave endeavors,
be assured of my best hopes,

high esteem and continued gratitude
for your gestures of support.

Governor Pennington."

Well, that's just the f*cking sort--

chop them into pieces, and each
of them happily slithers away,

- still lying to your f*cking face.
- What am I to make of this, huh?

He don't know yet
what he wants to do.

Knew what to do with them
f*cking bribes I sent.

That's a gift they're born with.

Far as how hard
to move on the camp,

he ain't sure yet
all he'd be going against.

Maybe that is cause
for cutting some throats.

That'd put you
right where he wants you.

If you got other ways to move
on him is what he ain't clear about.

(moaning)

Messages from invisible sources,

or what some people think of
as progress.

Ain't the heathens used smoke signals
all through recorded history?

How's that a f*cking
recommendation?

Well, it seems to me like, you know,
letters posted one person to another

is just a slower version
of the same idea.

When was the last time you got
a f*cking letter from a stranger?

- Bad news about Pa.
- Bad news!

Tries against our interests is our
sole communications from strangers,

so by all means, let's plant poles
all across the country,

festoon the cocksucker with wires
to hurry the sorry word

and blinker our judgments
of motive, huh?

You've given it more thought than me.

Ain't the state of things cloudy enough?

Don't we face enough
f*cking imponderables?

Well, by God, you give the word, Al,

and them poles will be kindling.

After we've made love,
are you sometimes happy?

Because I get up from the bed,
is that why you wonder?

I'll intend something,

come to myself realizing

I've only stood or sat
thinking about you.

Just now, that your toes
are beautiful,

when I'd intended
to replenish the kindling.

(giggling)

I was raised believing

dereliction of duty is
the one sure way to happiness.

So often with you
I've been perfectly happy.

(knocks on door)

Ellsworth:
Can I start the shipment loading,

keep the men from falling to drink?

Yes, please.

Now I believe in you.

Ellsworth:
Start loading.

Al:
Does Bullock think if I wanted,

them four horsemen with r*fles would
ward me off that woman's gold?

Dan: Maybe it's just precautions
against the other operators.

No precautions of his protect her.

Them other operators
forebear out of respect for me

and knowing what hot blood your blade
would draw if they ever f*cking presumed.

Well, he don't intend it as insult.

- Uh, Bullock, that's my point.
- Horror is you're f*cking right!

He don't know if it's breathing
or taking it in through f*cking gills,

he is that f*cking c**t-struck.

They're afloat in some
fairy f*cking bubble,

lighter than air-- him, her snatch
and his stupid f*cking badge.

(g*nsh*t)

Where's that from?

My guess would be No. 10.

Hope it ain't Tom Nuttall taking
the quick f*cking way out.

No. No, there's himself.

Self-deceiving cocksucker I am,

I thought when America took us in,
Bullock would prove a f*cking resource.

Look at him, striding out
like some randy maniac bishop.

Sheriff! About his duties
to the camp, huh?

Luck trouble didn't jump out
earlier, huh, Bullock?

Might have found you mid-thrust
at other business.

What is it?

Taken by a vision?

You would not want to be
staring like that

at me.

It's only Bummer Dan.

But I think he's k*lled.

Be where I can find you.

I ain't going no place.

Dan: I'll, uh, go get my big g*n.

No, that ain't how
this wants to resolve.

You go down, Dan,
see to the c**t and whiskey, huh?

- Adams: You want me up here?
- You, go take your bath.

You want a donkey's attention...

bring a f*cking pole down
between his ears.

(sighs)

Jeez. (groans)
Ow, f*ck!

No ways did I wish that man
harm or take against him.

Seth:
You did sh**t him, huh?

Only on account of the jacket.

Charlie: I'll hear it
from the other drunks.

Harry mistook Bummer Dan
for Slippery Dan.

That had pulled his cock out previous,

- started filling the cuspidor yon!
- You will keep this short.

Tom: Well, uh, Harry shouts
for Slippery to stop,

but Slippery cast
his johnson toward Harry

and pisses at him over the bar.

I pulled my g*n, Sheriff.
I told Slippery,

"Get out, you're ruled off
for the day.

You darken that door before dawn
tomorrow, I'll sh**t you f*cking dead."

Harry's shirt front's urine-sopped still.

But this is Bummer Dan.

Man:
Oh my God, it's true!

Tom:
Well, that's Slippery.

Bummer's f*cking dead.

They know that,
you filthy piss-spraying beast!

Get up off your knees.

- Oh my God, Bummer--
- Get up and tell your part in this.

My part, Sheriff, was putting
Bummer in my jacket

and sending the poor f*ck in here.

To what purpose?

Thinking maybe if Harry winged one
at Bummer mistaking him

for me he'd threatened to m*rder,
it'd be funny.

Harry:
What's my liability, Mr. Bullock?

Hey, ain't getting
pissed on provocation?

You didn't k*ll who you meant to,

or mean to k*ll the man you did.

What's my liability?

Worse in some way?

Box him and see he's buried.

But I'm telling
both of you-- watch it!

- May I retrieve my jacket off him, Deputy?
- Yeah, go ahead.

Gee, the worst f*cking joke
I ever played!

Oh, why do I drink the way I do?

He pulls that prick stunt again,
sh**t him!

- Wait up, Bullock!
- Private business, thanks.

It won't be private if Swearengen's
got his cappers at his flanks.

It's private. Thank you, Charlie.

Man:
Soap with a prize inside!

You got any prizes
in that meat there, Captain?

- (laughing)
- Seth: This cocksucker.

Friend, I got soap
with a prize inside.

You were told to keep an interval

between yourself
and legitimate merchants.

I keep my interval, Sheriff.
It's their increase what's crowding me--

We're gonna count out 25 paces.
We're at 14.

- Count them with me. 15!
- 15.

- 16, 17...
- 16, 17...

- 18, 19, 20...
- 18, 19, 20...

Why, Joanie Stubbs and Miss Lila.

What brings you to the air
this fine spring morning?

Stage from Bismarck.

Cy:
Bismarck, you say?

Don't the kid in all of us
look forward to the new arrival?

I still tingle at the bottom
of my balls.

(chuckling)
Who could it be?

President Hayes?

Maybe it's jugglers or face painters.

Where do you feel it, honey?

The bottom of your balls.

Air's gone a little fixed.

- I guess we know who fixed it.
- Excuse me.

Boy: Look at the man
in the creek, Mama.

He's panning for his fortune.

- Won't see Mr. Bullock in the creek though.
- No.

Didn't you say
he was the sheriff?

Partner of Bullock & Star Hardware,

Sheriff of Deadwood Camp.

Cocksuckers!

Bullock.

Do I need to watch my back
against you?

Al said to stay out of it.

- (panting)
- Good morning.

If you'd spare your partner
a gutting, Mr. Star,

- you might make your way to The Gem.
- A gutting at whose hand?

My boss called him out
clear across the thoroughfare.

Unprovoked?

He was seeing after Mrs. Garret's interests--
your partner-- when my boss shouted.

- Would you lock up for me, please?
- Sure.

Your boss should do like me
and learn to look the other way!

It ain't his line.

Age impedes my stream,

- no f*cking fear of you.
- Get in here.

All in due f*cking course,
but tell me one thing first,

Bullock, as I stand here
f*cking humbled:

does the widow Garret have
a going f*cking hard rock concern

and five-stamp mill
crushing gold out of her quartz

all day and f*cking night?

- What?
- But does she cast her lot with the camp,

furnish others here
a chance to develop

what they got,
to hang on or even prosper?

You pie-faced cocksucker.
Get in here and account for your insult.

Or with you at her ear--
among other points of entry--

instead of doing her civic duty,
does she ship her f*cking loot to Denver?

Civic duty? Opposed by her own
and her dead husband's family,

to put her assets at play in a camp with
no law or government worth the name?

Al: Seeing here's where
she lives and struck lucky,

civic duty? Yeah.
And it's time for her and some others

to quit their f*cking shirking.
Yankton's making its move.

(shouts)
Ah, the f*cking thing!

Meaning what,
"Yankton's making its move"?

Without more insults.

Al: We're getting ass-f*cked.
Carved into counties,

but not one f*cking commissioner
coming from the Hills.

How do you have this information?

From the governor himself
in a pricey little personal note.

They want to make us a trough
for Yankton's snouts.

Them hoople-heads out there, they need

buttressing against going over
to those cocksuckers.

Now I can handle my areas,

but there's dimensions
and f*cking angles I'm not expert at.

You would be if you'd sheathe
your prick long enough...

- Shut up.
- ...and resume being the upright

pain in the balls
that graced us all last summer.

Shut up, you son of a bitch.

Jesus Christ.

Bullock! The world abounds
in c**t of every kind,

including hers.

Of course, if it would steer you
from something stupid...

I, uh, could always profess
another position.

Will I find you've got a Kn*fe?

I won't need no f*cking Kn*fe.

(both groaning)

Trixie: They went over
the f*cking balcony!

Awful possibility in these matters is

both men sustaining mortal injury...

Stagehand: Whoa!

Dan:
You looking to die, cocksucker?

- He ain't your k*ll!
- God damn you!

Hey hey.
Hey, don't come no further!

Hey!

Jesus Christ!

Johnny: Jesus Christ!
Jesus Christ!

(shouting)
Jesus Christ Almighty!

Where's Bullock?

f*ck me.

I do have a Kn*fe.

It come to me now.

Al: Hmm?

Welcome to f*cking Deadwood!

It can be combative.

(groaning)

...but I'm rarely that f*cking lucky.

(wheezes)

(groans)

Wave a penny
under the Jew's nose.

If they've got
living breath in them,

it brings them right 'round.

Mr. Bullock.

A happy surprise.

Charlie: No one's dead!

Mr. Star's shoulder's been hurt.

Ain't that your high-end
whore friend Maddie?

Joanie: Yes.

Cy: That I thought had took
her snatch to New York?

Joanie: Yes.

Wonderful how folks
can get around now.

Doc Cochran needs
to come from Whitewood.

Yeah.

AW Merrick.

Seth: Mr. Star and Utter
should be taken to our store.

All right.
All right.

Hello, Mr. Bullock.

Hello, William.

I'm all right.

I'd be grateful

if you'd take
their belongings to a house

- I built on the west edge.
- Mm-hmm.

Better let me hold
Maddie's chair, Joanie.

I need to make
a f*cking impression.

- My lady.
- My lord.

Lack of notice is
my only regret.

That's my fault for giving
Joanie none.

Were you hedging
your bets, Maddie?

(glass tinkling)

Feared losing my nerve
all the way to the camp.

Then wondered, had that coach
brought you to Gettysburg, huh?

Gettysburg-- f*cking battle carnage.

- Yes, I wondered.
- (shouting) What?

Wondered.

(huffs) You secured that building,
honey, when?

- November.
- Got the building in November

I guess you'll be operating out of?

Now I'd have thought a trick
would have been behind it,

but Joanie's f*ck money
has been going for jewels.

How long we had that
understanding, honey?

Since I was 14.

I've been giving Joanie
jewels for her f*ck money

since she was 14 years of age,

and not once did I come out ahead.

Anyways.

Anyways...

since November,

it looked to me
the project lay fallow,

but I guess it was just germinating.

Shall we talk in private, Cy?

- Would that be rude?
- Not at all.

I mean, a 18-year relationship
between me and Joanie,

- just one moment alone?
- Of course not.

Suck some pricks if you like.

Keep whatever they give you
as my way of saying welcome.

Any blind ones out there?

(snickering, laughing)

Al: Jesus Christ!

- That bandage wants to be tight, Al.
- Does it!?

Ask it if it wants to be wound
around your f*cking neck!

- Get away from me, Barney!
- Yes, sir.

(wheezing)

f*cking Adams.

Restrained you, didn't he?

Obstructs me in the thoroughfare,

now he wants to bill and coo.

(screaming)
f*ck!

What was that Jewish fella
thinking, Dan,

to charge at me with a purse g*n?

(Al wailing)

That's just an unfamiliar situation.

He just overplayed
trying to prove himself.

f*ck f*ck.

Johnny: What was that whole
damn thing about, anyhow?

Al's calling Bullock to the fold.

Bullock ain't even of Al's flock.

Al's gonna be calling numbers to the fold
now that he can't trust like us.

Some he don't even like.

We're joining America.

And it's full of lying,
thieving cocksuckers

that you can't trust at all--

governors, commissioners
and whatnot.

By God, that's just
the new way of things,

and you just gonna have
to get used to it, Johnny.

- All right.
- You gonna have to accept it

and learn to control yourself.

You get no argument from me!

Okay.

It's been me nudging you
from the nest, young lady,

- urging you to take f*cking wing!
- Okay.

(panting)

Where did the money come from
that bought that place?

Your daddy sold me you
for six and a half bucks,

so a rich relation is tough to swallow.

It is respectful not to lie, honey,

but any further silence
will get me violent.

You know where
that backing came from.

A farewell gesture
from Eddie Sawyer!

(tin clatters)

I knew Eddie had been
stealing from me,

and then he flees and you
turn up owning that place.

I don't work here no more, Cy.

You understand?

- No matter what.
- Hmm.

It's k*ll you or let you go.

Could I make it with you dead?

Why try?

Look at that.

Look at that beautiful smile.

All right, darling.

Let me...

let you go.

Thank you.

(chokes)
Shall we-- (clears throat)

all take the air while Maddie
hears the happy news?

Let's go get the f*cking crone.

I feel like a-- a boy.

I feel like skipping.

I'm that f*cking hopeful
and excited for you.

(chuckles)

AW:
Doc, hot water.

Doc:
Tell Wu that that drunk

better not get ate by his pigs

until I have had my way
with the corpse.

Sol: I'm braced, Doc,
if you want to start digging.

Doc: Momentarily.

Charlie:
Oh, thank you, ma'am.

The ringing...

I'm all right, William.

Where are your g*n
and badge, Mr. Bullock?

It was personal between me
and the man I fought,

- so I took them off.
- William: But he kept a Kn*fe.

I didn't know that
when I disarmed.

Will you arrest him now
for the Kn*fe?

That's questions enough
for Mr. Bullock, William.

- Doc: Give him another dose of laudanum.
- (Sol laughs)

I got my load on, Doc.

(groaning)

Don't doubt...

I'll have back
my g*n and badge.

(Trixie shushing)

(clears throat)

(groaning)

Ahem!

(Trixie shushing)

(gasping)

Al: f*ck.

I found these seeing to your piss-pot
and I know they ain't yours.

What tipped you off,
the f*cking badge?

Put them down.

Is that some kind
of private f*cking hilarity?

- What?
- The piss-pot remark.

Jewel: No.

I made water off
the balcony this morning,

if it's any of your f*cking business.
Now get away from me.

Not you, EB!
Get the f*ck back here.

Heavens.

It's all like some
great Greek battle.

Yeah, how about that f*cking doc, huh?
Seeing to the respectable types,

leaving us, the ones
that pay him regular, huh?

So that woman
and child, Bullock's?

His wife and son.

Uh, how was Mr. Star?
How was Charlie Utter?

Shut up, Johnny!

(panting)

Detail Bullock's condition.

The worse for wear.
No clarity to his look or focus,

as I could cite
in other combatants.

You touch me, EB, I'll put your nose
through your f*cking brain!

Now did he state
his further intentions?

To have his g*n and badge back.

In what f*cking tone?

I'd shy from putting a name on it, Al.

(chuckles) He was talking
to an eight-year-old.

It sound like he'd be
coming back for more?

Well, I'd hate to guess
and be wrong.

New whores on that coach, huh?

Find out where they'll be working.

I could take him his g*n and badge,

plumb his intent as we talk.

And how would
that chat start, EB, huh?

(mocking) "Here's your hardware,
and as he looks a c**t anyway,

Al would like you to have this rose."

I'll, uh, look into the new whores.

How you doing?

Uh, is my b*llet out?
Will Star live?

Well, if he don't, he's going happy.

And-- and Mr. Utter?

Will he be blind and deaf?

No!

Let me suss out
that new trim, Johnny,

before I earn some added rebuke.

Look, all's I'm saying is
I ain't your enemy.

Whatever you thought
your intentions was

coming on me like you did,

nine times out of 10, that'll be
the last f*cking move you ever make.

Bullock will be coming back
for his w*apon.

To what intent?

Open question.

Well, we'll be ready.

You've had your one out of 10.

That cow-eyed kid looking
from that coach,

that's what f*cking unmanned me.

(sighs)

He couldn't have known
she was coming.

Just today, I'd asked
Mr. Bullock after his family,

and he made no mention
of their being en route.

You're kind,
extending the hand of welcome.

Well, at its best this camp can
be forbidding to new arrivals.

That was very much
my experience.

Let alone to come upon Mr. Bullock
in the mud of that thoroughfare,

injured, who knows how seriously?

Well, thank goodness he seemed
coming back to himself.

Miss Isringhausen, I didn't realize medicine
was among your areas of expertise.

It isn't, Mrs. Garret.

Then perhaps I'll better learn
Mr. Bullock's condition in his presence.

And Mr. Star's and Utter's condition.

Yes, ma'am.

Sofia?

You put a ribbon
around your candy?

And did you want me
to give it to that boy?

Please answer in words, Sofia.

Yes, please.

(knock at door)

- Miss Isringhausen.
- Mr. Ellsworth.

I'm here to steer Mrs. Garret.

Alma: Then Mr. Ellsworth
and I will make the delivery.

(silent)

Not as I'd been asked, Mrs. Garret,

but I wonder if this ain't a call
better paid another day.

I've stopped believing I can dictate
the terms of my opportunities.

Well, some would say
it might be your choice

what chances you decide not to take.

Some being the butt-in loudmouth types.

Shall I walk on alone, Mr. Ellsworth?

No, ma'am.

(grunts)

I'm sorry for throwing up.

If you hadn't, I would suspect
your previous habits.

(moaning softly)

Mr. Bullock.

Mrs. Garret.

- How are you feeling, Mr. Star?
- Sol: I've puked twice.

- Mrs. Garret.
- Trixie.

Mrs. Garret.

Mr. Utter.

Ma'am. Uh, don't be alarmed.

A lot of this damage is old.

May I introduce my wife Martha

and our son William?

Mrs. Alma Garret.

- How do you do?
- How do you do?

- How do you do, William?
- How do you do?

And Ellsworth, who superintends
Mrs. Garret's claim.

- Ma'am. William.
- William: How do you do?

You've discovered us
in distressing circumstances.

We're safe and glad
of joining Mr. Bullock.

I hope this can be
of some use to you,

uh, in your settling in.

Thank you.

Thank you.

My ward includes sweets
for your son,

when his mother decides
he may have them.

Is your ward a boy?

A girl, Sofia. A little younger
than you, I think.

Oh.

Thank you.

You recall Mrs. Garret
from my letters.

Yes.

Charlie: That's good luck
you had right there.

'Cause I carry the mail,

and I'll admit today
before lay people,

(chuckling) we lose more letters
than we deliver.

(laughing)

I'll say goodbye then, in hopes
that I see you again soon.

Yes.

I hope I see you soon, William.

Thanks for the sweets.

And don't be pestering me
for the good fishing spots.

I name them only over breakfast
at the Grand Central Hotel,

or what I call my dog.

- Will you see your house?
- I would like to very much.

AW:
Uh-- ahem-- Mrs. Bullock,

I've retrieved your bonnet
from your former post.

At your convenience, the readers
of the "Black Hills Pioneer" would be

interested in hearing
about your journey

and perhaps your first
impressions of our camp.

You don't have to give 'em all.

Thank you for seeing to Mr. Star.

Trixie:
No need to hurry back.

Go ahead, William.

He never wrote of me
in his letters to her...

did he?

We never spoke on

what he's wrote to his wife
or hadn't, Mrs. Garret.

Or why he hadn't.

No, ma'am.

And you and me
hadn't ought to either.

Thank you for taking me,
Mr. Ellsworth.

You're welcome, ma'am.

You'll recall...

what I wrote about her husband?

How he'd sought
his money back on a claim.

He d*ed in a fall

before gaining satisfaction,

and the claim proved out rich.

William:
Is that the house, sir,

- the splendid one ahead?
- It is.

You can walk ahead
a little piece, William.

Just a little piece.

And of my promise
to help the widow...

as I could,

made to Wild Bill Hickok.

Yes, Mr. Bullock. And you must
be as weary from the day's events

and your work readying the house
as we are from travel.

Please don't trouble
to repeat yourself.

We traveled with that woman
and her boy.

While the lady was traveling
with you, her husband the sheriff

was pickling his prick
in the c**t brine of another.

(door opens)

Cy: Look at Lila,

delivering her ducklings
all undamaged and dry.

Joanie:
How are we gonna celebrate, Cy?

Maddie:
My vote's for hardy but brief.

Votes don't count here just yet.

It looks a little small, Lila.

But I guess you gals are
used to making the best of that.

Just fleeting as f*cking innocence,

let me toast to bold new venture.

- Your place got a name yet, honey?
- Le Chez Amis.

That's catchy.

Open your yap,
stick out your tongue.

To the Chez Amis!

And to--

- Stick your f*cking tongue out!
- (gags)

--Joanie and Maddie,

able hands
at a whorehouse tiller!

And to...

Doris, one of the Bella's
best cocksuckers,

that I send with them
as a gesture of friendship.

We have the girls we need.

Bon voyage, sweetheart,
as long as we're speaking French.

We got all the girls we need, Cy.

Ah, don't fear that she'll spy, Joanie.
Please, don't reject Doris on that basis.

You'll just get her belly cut by me
showing you I'm serious,

and an uncut Bella whore
sent with you.

Being as funds
stole from me by Eddie

put the Chez Amis on its feet,
I consider myself an investor,

and I will have
my interests looked at,

60¢ from dollar one

and a true count f*cking verified.

All right.
(whispers) Fine.

Get these girls out of here, Lila!

You better get packed, Doris.

Did you bring anything
with you when I bought you?

That's all right, honey.

You just pack the rags
you been wiping the cum off with.

- All right, Joanie?!
- Yes. And now we're gonna go.

What do you think,
I'm a monkey in a zoo?

Think I'm gonna throw
my sh*t after you?

No.

Don't f*cking talk
to me like I'm no monkey.

Get those c**ts out of here!

Don't believe
there's no good women

till you've seen one
with maggots in her eyes.

Joanie!

Bet the wheel before you leave.
You're on a lucky run.

William: Is there fish
in this stream?

Sometimes.

This is it.

May we go inside?

Did you get the letter
about the house?

(sighs)
I did get that letter.

It's at the very top of my trunk.

That has all my thoughts.

May we go in?

I should go back now.

You and the boy go in.

Let's go in the house Mr. Bullock
has made us, William.

Come on, Mr. Bullock.

Not just now, William.

Don't you want to come in?

I can't come in just now.

After you've seen to the camp,

gotten your g*n and badge back?

I'll take my mother in.

Thank you.

Come on, Mother.

Thank you.

Seth's voice: "Dear Mrs. Bullock,
your house is near finished.

My satisfaction does not exceed
the camp's lumbermen and sawyers

whose patience I have tried by
my overwatchful eye for greenness

and for good square-edge
quality in the cut boards.

I've chosen pine,
one-year seasoned,

for the sills, posts,
floor joists and rafters.

The other framing timber is of spruce.

Where partitions bear upon them,

I have doubled the beams
and supported the floor

with locus posts set
three feet into the ground.

I think you may laugh
to see the mullioned windows

with their view of the camp
from out the parlor.

Being unfinished,
they look like unfocused eyes.

I've left these and all final
decorative choices

to your superior judgment
and sensibility."

Soap!
Soap with a prize inside!

(feigning coughing)

"I hope that you and the boy may
arrive in good health and safety.

I look forward to our opportunity
to better get to know each other.

I pray that in my brother's stead,

I may be permitted
to be a father to the boy

as good as Robert would have been,

and as to your care
and comfort and safety,

as good a husband to you.

Yours sincerely, Seth Bullock."

(knocks at door)

(Western music playing)

♪ Shadows are falling ♪

♪ And I've been here all day ♪

♪ It's too hot to sleep ♪

♪ And time is runnin' away ♪

♪ I feel like my soul has ♪

♪ Turned into steel ♪

♪ I've still got the scars ♪

♪ That the sun didn't heal ♪

♪ There's not even room enough ♪

♪ To be anywhere ♪

♪ It's not dark yet ♪

♪ But it's gettin' there. ♪