It's a
pretty low price.
Nothing's for free.
That's my motto.
- Mine, too. Nothing's for free.
- Never share.
- That's my second motto.
- And mine, too. Never share.
Can none of you two gentlemen
content himself with our gratitude?
Particularly with mine.
There's a saying:
When in doubt, let fate decide.
- You want to give it a try?
- The loser takes the money.
Reward yourself
with the woman.
And you
with the bounty.
Adios!
- That's mine!
- No, we share!
Share! As if.
To the river!
Where are
you going, Yankee?
Don't cross the river.
It's the land of the Great Concho.
Well, Perro.
Are we roaming
around again?
Why? We're on the way
to the Great Concho.
Your compass must be broken, muchachos.
This ain't the way to the Concho.
- This is the way to the border.
- I know, Luiz.
But it's not wise to go
to the Concho on the direct way.
Look.
That's all we got.
The "Cheap John" has the bulk of the loot,
and he scrammed across the border.
- Did I give you a clear account?
- Yes, yes.
And that's all
you have to account for?
Or is there something else
you have to account for?
What do you mean?
That's all I got, Luiz.
You didn't think we'd abandon
the gang after the coup, did you?
No.
We ain't
no dirty traitors.
- Who said you were?
- You know what the Great Concho said?
"If Perro doesn't fancy us anymore,
he can just go."
But the Concho
has one condition.
- Just a tiny one.
- What... condition is that, Luiz?
That you make him your heir.
Your sole heir.
Let's go, boys!
Where are you from?
From far away?
What's with this masquerade?
I don't find it amusing.
I assure you, there's not much
to laugh about here, stranger.
Whoever takes on the Great Concho,
ends up this way.
Excuse my ignorance, my dear friend.
I'm just traveling through.
Your Concho must be very powerful
when you always refer to him as "great".
I never met a stranger
who was stranger than you are.
How can you not know
who the Great Concho is?
Everything you see belongs to him,
just like his shirt and his sombrero.
If his shirt and his sombrero
resemble this village here...
... then he's no example of elegance.
- Your impression might deceive you.
It might not be a pretty village,
but it's in the middle of the border area.
Everything that goes in or out
passes through here, understand?
If I got that right, the village
is poor and the Concho is rich.
- I like rich people.
- Yankee...
Watch your tongue.
You see them?
They were traveling through, as well.
And instead of finding their way out,
they found death.
Tell me, what did they do
to make it up that far?
They were seven and tried
to fool around with the Concho.
They raided the post waggon,
and then...
...they passed through here.
Here, of all places, understand? Morons.
I told you:
This village is just like a sieve.
When you got dollars in your pocket,
you won't get through here.
I warned you.
Even if that's not in my interest,
since I'm also the gravedigger.
You said there were seven
who did the raid.
- There are only three. What about the others?
- They won't go very far.
They managed to get away
with the loot.
But the Concho
will get them.
- Where are you going?
- To the sheriff.
- Sheriff!
- Sheriff!
Get out, you snail!
Take a look, sheriff.
We caught three more.
I brought you this one.
Two more are at the river. That makes six.
Cheap John scrammed.
But he won't get far,
even though he has the gold.
Poor bastard.
- Right, Pedro?
- Right, he won't get far.
Pay good attention, sheriff.
His head is worth 3,000 dollars.
If the law is too dumb to pay that,
it belongs to the Concho.
The Great Concho
knows no financial losses.
When he doesn't need his men anymore,
he sells them used.
The law suggests, the Concho strikes.
And he collects from the living and the dead.
Seor! Seor!
My husband was with Perro!
- Where is he?
- Your husband feels better than you do.
- He's cooling off at the river.
- No! What shall I do now?
Do it like the others. Console yourself.
Or let the Concho console you.
Get lost!
No!
No, no!
No!
- No!
- Get up, muchacha!
You'll feel better
after a good ride.
Let's go!
Let's go!
No!
Forgive me for ruining
your lasso, seor.
But this is my horse,
I know it all too well.
It's very tired
and it doesn't want to ride.
Tastes differ, Yankee.
Your horse doesn't like to ride
and we don't like you.
Buzz off. New faces usually
aren't really welcome in these parts.
There are faces and then there are faces.
Maybe mine makes the cut.
Sure. Might do.
At a place far away, though.
Listen to me, my friend.
Take your face and carry it away.
And when you're traveling through
the country, try to hold your breath.
Even the air
belongs to the Concho.
And he doesn't like people
to avail themselves of it.
Then I'll try to keep
breathing to a minimum.
Move, or you're risking to breathe
for the very last time. Let's go!
One-Eye, bring me
a beer into the office.
Your gallery, sheriff,
is not up to date.
Someone already cashed in
on that one, for example.
And what does that have to do with you?
What do you want?
I'm here on business.
This place seems to be ideal
for my business dealings.
Talk straight.
What kind of business dealings?
Safe business dealings.
In the nature
of these here.
Don't be upset, sheriff.
I just want to make business
with the Great Concho.
And you could
tell him about that.
I'd like to have him
as my business partner.
Individually, they're not worth much,
but when you catch them all at once...
You profit from
the quantity.
Come on,
tell the Concho.
You know what I'm doing right now, Yankee?
I'm riding myself into the shit, like you.
If they find out that I dress your hair,
they'll waste me. Guaranteed.
Can't you
shave yourself, Yankee?
I never do things
others can do for me.
What about
this razor, Consalvo?
Does it cut well?
It has a big blade, seor.
You need a steady hand.
Real steady...
Would you mind
if I prefer Consalvo's hand?
Do you remember the lasso
that was used to drag the woman?
You cut it with a single shot.
Pretty much like this...
A throat
ain't no rope, seor.
A rope can be knotted together
or be replaced.
There's no replacement
for a throat, though.
Why not?
You know what?
I've seen lots of knots
and lots of throats in my life.
Come on! Get off the chair, Yankee!
The Great Concho wishes to see you.
I thought so.
That's exactly why I came here,
to refresh myself.
A waste of effort.
No matter if clean or dirty
you'll always be a filthy Yankee.
Move!
Yankee!
What about my money?
That's not for the beard,
but for the fun.
Soon you'll get
your fun for free.
Let's say
another 100, Carlos?
Well, Carlos?
I'm in if you bet it on the American.
Even double.
For each dog that dies,
there's a laughing cat.
Perro's death
will bring us luck.
- Goods are on their way!
- Heavy goods?
- Well, I can't see that.
- Take a good look.
The goods I want
should be heavy: Gold.
I sent two men
to the bank of Los Alamos...
...to make
the cashier talk.
He's supposed to tell us
when the gold coach arrives.
- Will he tell us?
- The cards say nothing about cashiers.
- Only that goods are on their way.
- Must be the gold from the post waggon.
- That can't be seen.
- Don't they say a thing about Cheap John?
Will we find him?
Take a good look!
Come on, grill them some more,
those damn cards!
Oh no, now you cursed them.
They won't say anything anymore.
Damnit!
I brought you
the Yankee.
And they don't tell me
to keep my back clear, these cards?
- What's gotten into you?
- Go away!
These are all portraits
of you, seor?
Pretty.
It's a shame, though...
...that something's
missing.
- What the hell is missing, you think?
- The numbers.
What numbers?
Spit it out.
Well, all the portraits of your men
have numbers on them.
I saw that in the
sheriff's office this morning.
Ugly mugs.
But nice numbers.
Who the hell did you
bring me there, Luiz?
Someone who looks for portraits
to sell frames?
And you, what kind of hostess are you?
Leaves the guest standing around like a horse.
Come on!
Is a stool okay?
Do you want a cigar?
Fine stuff from smugglers.
No, thanks.
You don't smoke?
Is your throat burning?
Then you
have to wet it.
A whiskey for
the gentleman, quick!
More whiskey!
For you.
Good manners.
But real bad goblets.
I'll give you a whole set
if we're going to do business together.
We still need a jester on our court.
You always said that, Philosopher.
What kind of business
are you talking about?
A killer business
if you ask me.
I only arrived this morning,
but already saw two interesting things:
Your minister for burial affairs
sending Mr. Perro straight to hell.
And then, when I was at the sheriff's,
I had a look at the famous family portraits.
Those with the numbers.
And that got me
an idea.
- What goddamned idea is that?
- A damn good idea, I think.
Founding a company together with you,
for selling heads.
Heads?
Of stone-cold
characters.
Of those.
To make this clear:
They're not worth much, but the numbers
on the portraits are good.
Excellent idea,
Yankee.
And is there also
a bounty on your head?
I'm not yet
on the market, seor.
That's a shame.
The company should be built
on equal shares.
A skin for a skin.
What capital are you bringing in?
I'm bringing
the business concept.
He's someone who should cry,
but he makes us laugh instead.
I told you
we found a jester.
That's enough!
The Concho founds no company.
With nobody.
The Concho has only one partner:
Himself.
Me! Myself.
A good partner.
One who sees with his own eyes,
and hears with his own ears.
And who keeps his back clear
all by himself.
The Concho
has only one partner:
The Great Concho.
Don't you think you're too great
for a single pair of shorts?
And you?
Can't you see
you're way too small for me?
Maybe as a partner,
but as an enemy, I might grow.
Not against me.
A jester will always
be a fool.
And if I'm not amused anymore,
I'll let my men have some fun.
You treated me as a frame seller,
a fur trader, and a jester.
While actually
I'm a safe.
Hombre, talk straight.
Speak out.
Like I said, a safe.
Very secure
and full of money.
What money are you
talking about?
Money I earned myself.
It's not here, but in a safe place.
- Where is that place?
- In the old mine.
The money from the post waggon.
You searched it in vain.
I already found
Cheap John...
...and became
his heir.
But if you found the company,
I'll give you the money from the train...
...as a bailment.
I don't like you,
nightingale.
You can't impress me
with your drivel.
Go to the mine.
My men will go
with you.
If the money is there, good,
if not, you're dead.
Gold Tooth! Take four smart boys
and accompany the Yankee.
Gold Tooth...
If the gold isn't there,
sound him out.
If he screws you,
I'll screw you.
Does the nightingale
fancy this game?
I might not be a nightingale,
but I do like the game.
Good, I like it, too,
but I only play to win.
Then you can only play with folks
who have no luck.
And I'm always lucky,
also in game.
Not as lucky as I am,
frame seller.
Okay.
Goodbye.
There are only two options,
and only two.
You will either meet me again,
or you'll meet the devil.
Won't make
a difference, seor.
The devil has horns, too,
and they can break.
Let's go, boys!
On your horses!
We're there.
This is it.
In there.
You others
come from the back.
I'll be waiting here
for you, Yankee.
Let's hurry!
And don't you
forget, Yankee:
If you don't come out with the gold,
I'll come up with some lead.
Okay.
- The gold should be here.
- Where?
Stop there, Yankee!
It's here!
Tough luck, Yankee!
Bastard.
Get up!
Go back to the Concho.
And tell him that the Yankee
makes the deal himself.
All your heads have their value.
I'll sell them all.
Tell him that!
And also tell him
that his head will be last.
Consalvo!
The Yankee is here.
Consalvo!
Get the cart out.
- The luxurious one.
- And I prayed for your soul...
Go now and
get the horses ready.
- Luiz! Let's go.
- Go, boys, quick.
Angelo, Tattoo,
let's go!
If someone is surrounded by fire,
there's two options.
Only two:
He either burns or goes insane.
The weapons we're getting
are far more valuable than words.
I also have a motto.
This one:
Burn if you don't
want to be burned.
You like it,
Philosopher?
- What about the Yankee? Spit it out!
- He said...
...that he'll sell
our heads.
All of them.
One after another.
Yours will be last...
He wants you
to know that.
I know what I
have to do.
I know that the Yankee is a fool
who puts his life at stake.
Damn bastard!
You stole my joy to kill you...
...by letting
the bastard run off.
Luiz! You stay and keep your eyes open!
We'll take care of the weapons.
- Let's go, boys!
- Let's go! Come on!
There'll still be time to play with
the Yankee, that fool, when we come back.
- Why did you come, grave defiler?
- Because of the dead.
- I was told there were some here.
- Who told you that, grave shoveller? Who?
- The Yankee.
- Where did you see him?
- At the tavern.
- On the horse, Portuguese!
And you,
what are you doing here?
Where did you
crawl out from?
Why the hell
did you come here, Yankee?
I don't want to get involved in your affairs.
I don't want any trouble, understand?
Yankee, I'm talking to you!
I have nothing to do with it!
I don't know you, I never knew you
and I don't want to know you!
I don't want to see you,
I never saw you, got it?
Let's go!
Ruano, take the reins!
You! To the other coach! Quick!
Where's the Yankee?
I don't know anything, seor.
Absolutely nothing.
The man you're looking for
wasn't here.
Why are you
snooping around here, huh?
The American gentleman said
that he's waiting for you.
Where is he waiting for me?
Spit it out, cockroach!
- At his new house, seor.
- What new house?
- The one of the Great Concho.
- The house of the Great Concho?
Who's there?
You laid cards
for the Concho.
For me...
...you'll read
my hand.
Luiz!
Luiz!
Where the hell is he?
Rosita!
Luiz!
Damnit!
Rosita!
Where are they?
Where is Rosita?
- Talk!
- I don't know.
- Talk!
- I was asleep.
Concho, I went to the village.
The Yankee was there and I wanted to get him.
How could I
have known?
Men! I want a bounty
on this bastard.
Painter, draw his
warrant of apprehension.
I want to see it on
all the walls of the country.
I'll crush you,
Yankee!
I wouldn't be myself
if I wouldn't want to crush you.
That's...! That's...!
That's how the game ends!
Yankee,
you lousy bastard.
I want to feel you
under my whip.
I want to make myself 100 portraits
with the shreds of your skin.
Bleed! And die!
We're there.
You like the place?
You don't seem
too happy.
I'm sorry, but you'll have to do
without my company for a while.
Come on!
No, what are you doing?
Let me go! I don't want to.
- Where are you taking me?
- An abandoned village.
- I couldn't find anything better.
- Dirty liar! Let me go!
You disgusting racketeer!
What are you doing? Why are you tying me up?
I'm sorry, it's a line for a horse.
I couldn't find one made of silk.
- Hold still. Stop screaming!
- No, let go of me!
- I'll be back soon.
- I want to go! The Concho will make you pay!
You'll have to pay for this,
you coward!
You gutless pig!
You dirty Yankee!
Tattoo! Powder!
Dear Lord!
Luiz!
Fire!
Burn down all the houses!
Every one with my warrant on it!
Burn them all!
Burn them!
Burn everything down!
Fire!
I want them to remember me.
Even without my portrait!
Forever!
Fire!
Come on, hombres!
Fire, muchachos!
Philosopher, you see that?
Burn, if you don't want to be burned!
I'm always
on the fire's side.
Luiz! Luiz!
Come on!
Take this horde of dogs
to the front of the church. Let's go!
Hombres!
To the front
of the church!
All outside!
Come on, quick, people!
Greetings, sheriff.
Go and join the others.
Go!
Sheriff! Come here.
Tonight, a disgusting Yankee
broke into my home.
He took my woman.
Understand? My woman!
Is this your way of
protecting righteous citizens?
Is this your way
of earning your money?
Huh?
Pedro, I make you sheriff.
Take the star.
I want to see that Yankee bastard
in chains before sundown.
Find him! Or you will rue
the day you were born. All of you!
Luiz!
Tattoo!
Put the face of that Yankee
on every wall.
And remember:
If he doesn't pay, you will!
Now it's your turn, Indio.
How long do you think you can endure this?
If you get tired, you'll be
the executioner of your own wife.
Talk!
I'll provide every one of you
with a different death.
As long as this dog
won't show up.
I don't know anything, seor.
Absolutely nothing, I swear.
- Which bell ist that?
- That's the one from the abandoned village.
Then that's the Yankee.
On your horses, hombres!
Let's not keep him waiting.
On your horses!
Go, come on!
Are you afraid,
Great Concho?
I thought
you're so brave.
You proved that
tonight.
It really takes guts to burn down
houses of women and old folks.
You can distinguish yourself
a lot more here.
Here are no women,
old people or children.
Nobody's here,
Great Concho.
Or are you
afraid of the light?
This is your shadow.
- Damn Yankee!
- Stop!
He'll lead us
in his direction.
With his voice.
Take a step forward,
Huge Concho.
You do know
this place real well.
The houses still bear traces
of your heroic deeds.
Or are you scared
by the bodies of your victims?
What are you doing, Portuguese?
Are you killing the wind?
- He's there!
- Let's get him!
- Hold it.
- Don't waste any lead, Angel Face.
If I were you, I'd guard it
better than gold.
Angel Face!
Even angels sometimes need
a good advice.
Concho!
It's not too bad
around here.
It's a
restful place.
Would you like
to stay here forever?
You and your
whole family?
Sleeping until
Judgment Day?
We'll put you to sleep,
you American vulture.
We're experts on that field,
and you know it!
Why aren't you
answering?
Has your tongue
already rotted away?
Yankee!
Open your dirty mouth!
Pedro!
Go!
- Now go!
- Where are you going, Pedro?
Congratulations, Pedro.
They put the star of justice
on your chest.
A glamorous career.
It's just a shame
that it'll be so short.
Very short, Pedro.
I don't like you
as a sheriff!
Pedro!
Take good care
of your shoulders!
I said the shoulders.
Don't you even know
where your shoulders are?
Pedro!
Great Concho!
I'm here!
Quick!
Surround the church!
He can only be here.
Search everything.
Great Concho, quick!
Look!
Come on, Concho.
Why do you keep your woman waiting?
You think I came here
because of her?
- You dying nightingale!
- Why else? Because of me?
What's a nightingale worth,
compared to a lion?
Come on, go and
get your woman!
It's a risk, but risks
are part of the game.
- Or don't you want to play anymore?
- You know I want to, Yankee!
But only if the stakes are high!
And you are my stake now!
Come on, you two,
go ahead.
That was the wrong move,
Great Concho!
So, aren't you going
to pick your flower?
What are you waiting for?
For her to wither away?
You can get her now!
I don't need her anymore!
Hurry up, Concho!
You know that I'm here for business.
And I have no time to lose.
Me neither.
Me neither, Yankee.
Have your knees
turned to jelly, muchachos?
Are you performing a little
scaredy-pants dance, Tattoo?
You'll never get
to your mistress like that!
But I got to you,
you pile of shit!
Your stench
lead me here.
Your mucking around with us
has an end now.
Throw the rifle away!
The gun, too.
Move!
You see?
The last move was mine.
Grab him!
The game is over,
nightingale.
The loser pays!
And there is no chance
to get even.
- A king-size bite for the Queen.
- Bravo!
The smell of roasted meat
turns me on.
You should have been
in the village last night.
That was one hell
of a barbecue, guys!
Concho, what's wrong?
The Great Concho is in a bad mood.
We should amuse ourselves, muchachos!
Come on, Concho.
Boys, can't you see
that the Concho isn't eating?
Meat for the Concho!
And what about
raw flesh?
What kind of effect
does raw flesh have on you, Rosita?
The Yankee's lips,
for example.
How did the Yankee
kiss you?
- We want to see it!
- No!
- Move!
- What the hell! Why are you doing this?
We know that
you're a good kisser.
What's your problem with me?
It's not my fault!
Let me go, I said!
I don't want to!
I don't want to!
Let me go!
- Show us how you did it! Now!
- No!
Kiss him!
Philosopher!
If the fire surrounds you,
there are two options.
And only two.
You either burn
or you go insane.
You said that,
Philosopher, remember?
But I want to see deeds
follow the words.
Cigar!
Take him down.
Down, on the ground!
Gunpowder!
Yankee!
You are a great player,
aren't you?
Have you ever played
with fire?
It's a very nice game,
believe me.
It warms the blood.
And I have the pot.
Yankee!
A special treat
from Tattoo.
Concho! They're coming back,
the ones you sent to Los Alamos...
... to loosen the tongue of the cashier.
- Finally, those snails.
Get this one
out of my sight!
Careful!
He mustn't die yet.
Get him out!
Concho, the bank's waggon
left Los Alamos.
- When?
- This morning, but...
But what?
Spit it out!
But it was empty.
It was a sham. No gold.
Damn!
What do you want from me?
I'm just a simple employee.
I don't give a damn
about what you are.
I want the gold!
Where is the gold?
Where?
It will be transported
on rafts, seor.
On the river.
Hombres!
I can tell you that we'll be the richest
men in all of New Mexico by tomorrow!
- Long live the Concho!
- Long live the Concho!
- How's the Yankee doing?
- How should I know?
He's over there.
Is he still alive?
He's not doing too well,
but he's alive, muchachos!
And we're dead tired.
You came to propose
a business concept to the Concho.
To cash in on our heads.
Were you serious about that?
Because I'd be in.
Two equal shares:
One half for me...
...and the other half
for you.
Tattoo!
A special gift
from the Yankee.
Portuguese! Philosopher!
The Yankee took off!
Stop!
Freeze, you bastard!
Hombres!
We caught the American.
Come on!
Great Concho!
The game isn't over yet!
Come on, quick!
On the coach.
And no protest.
Come on, you sluts.
Forward!
Check for others.
And don't waste time!
A shave, please.
Seor, seor! This portrait
was hung up by the Concho.
You be quiet.
I don't need any more trouble.
What's up?
Are you afraid to die?
Your hand is shaking.
- Easy on my skin.
- Alright, seor.
I saw it with my own eyes.
I swear!
- Spit it out!
- He went to Consalvo, I swear!
It's either this Indio
or the Yankee who's crazy.
It's better to check it out.
Go. Take a look.
Luiz was right.
The Indio is crazy.
The sombrero, seor.
Good luck.
Adios, Yankee!
The Great Concho is waiting
for us at the river!
Forward! Forward!
Get down the coach
and push! Move!
Push!
Goodbye!
To the rafts, hombres!
Let's go!
Bring them ashore.
Careful!
Put them there.
Hombres!
Put the cases
on the coach.
You were right, Great Concho.
We're the richest men in all of New Mexico.
Let's go.
If someone is surrounded by fire,
there are two options.
And only two:
He either burns
or goes insane.
Right, Philosopher?
You betrayed us, Luiz.
You disgusting worm!
Stop there!
Stop right there,
Yankee!
Drop the gun!
You, too,
Great Concho.
Drop the gun.
Your game is over.
Now I'm playing.
The gold belongs to
the one with the weapon.
You said that a hundred times,
Concho, remember?
A bad day
for nightingales.
Right, Yankee?
- Bad day for lions, too.
- Exactly.
But I'm the one
with a few bullets left.
In here.
While all you have is a single,
measly bullet in your gun.
Just a single one.
A single bullet is more than enough
for someone who knows how to use it.
But games with the life at stake
don't take that long.
And a living player
is still a player.
A dead player
is nothing more than carrion.
Better an interrupted game
than a lost match.
Apart from that,
one plays for fun, not to win.
That's a guideline that might be enough
for somebody else, but not for me.
I told you.
I'm a player who never leaves
the game on halftime.
Only an amateur panics.
I have control
over my nerves.
I'm one of those who never leave
anything on the table when they win.
You gambled
your head away, Yankee.
I won it.
And I'll take it.
You can have it.
But isn't it
too easy that way?
That way you won't have the fun
you were hoping for.
You'll have to do without
the game with the fire, for example.
I could think up
another game.
Bounce-ball.
That's an exciting game,
you know.
And I have the bank.
The game is over.
And the bank
has been broken.
By rule of thumb, this gold
might console me over the bounties.
If it's not quite enough,
I just paid something extra.
Every game
has its price.
The best ones are
damn short and fast.
I'll leave the
vultures to you.
You lost some customers as a barber,
but you gained some as a gravedigger.
Tear the warrants with
the numbers from the walls...
...and give them to the devil.
He's the only one who still needs them.
- Adios!
- Adios.
Adios, Yankee.
Good luck!