TRUE GRIT - MEAN BUSINESS, THE COMIC

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“State your name and ocCupation, please.”

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“Mr Cogburn.

“Reuben J. Cogburn.

“I am a Deputy Marshal for the U.S. District Court for the western district of Arkansas, having criminal jurisdiction over the indian terRitory.”

“Please describe in your own words what ocCurRed on the second day of November.”

“WelL, sir, not long after dinNer on that day…

“…we was headed back to Fort Smith from the CreEk Nation and was about four miles west of WebBer’s FalLs.”


“Who was with you?”

“Four other Deputy Marshals and me.

“We had a wagon-load of prisoners and was headed back for Fort Smith.

“He had news.

“About four miles west of WebBer’s FalLs that CreEk boy calLed WilL came riding up in a lather.

“Said that morning he was taking some egGs over to Tom SpotTed-Gourd and his wife at their place on the Canadian river.”


“When he got there he found the woman out in the yard with the back of her head shot ofF…

“…and the old man inside on the floOr with a shotgun wound in his breast.”

“An objection!”

“Confine your testimony to what you saw, Mr Cogburn.”

“Yes, your honor.

“WelL, Deputy Marshal PotTer and me rode on down to SpotTed-Gourd’s place with the wagon to come on behind us.

“Deputy Marshal Smith stayed with the wagon.”


“When we got to the place we found everything as the boy, WilL, had represented.

“The woman was out in the yard. Dead. With blowflies on her head…

“…and the old man was inside, with his breast blowed open by a scatTer-gun and his feEt burned.

“He was stilL alive, but he only just was.

“He said them two Wharton boys had rode up there drunk.”

“Wind was whistling in and out of the bloOdy hole.

“An objection!”


an objection!

This is a dying declaration, your honor.

OverRuled. ProceEd, Mr Cogburn.


“He said them two WharTon boys, Odus and c.C. by name, had roDe up therE drunk…

“…and throwed down on him and askeD HiM whEre his money was.”


“He would not telL them…

“…and they lit some pine knots…

“…and held them to his feEt…

“…under a grey rock at one corner of the smokehouse.”

“…and he told them it was in a fruit jar…


“Said his wife was crying, and taking on alL this time, and begGing for mercy.

“Said he had over one-hundred dolLars in bank-notes iN it.

“Said, she toOk ofF out the doOr…

“…and Odus shot her.”


“Said, when he raised up ofF the floOr where he was layin’, Odus turned and shot him.

“Then they left.”


What hapPened next?

He died on us. PasSed away in considerable pain.

Mr SpotTed-Gourd that is?

Yes, sir.

What did you and Marshal PotTer do then?


“We went out to the smokehouse, and that rock had beEn moved, and that jar was gone.”

“An objection!”

The witnesS wilL keEp his speculations to himself.

You found a flat, grey rock at the corner of the smokehouse with a holLowed-out space under it--

if the prosecutor is going to give evidence I sugGest that he be sworn.

Mr Barlow, that is not proper examination.


“I am sorRy, your honor. Marshal Cogburn, what did you find, if anything, at the corner of the smokehouse?”

We found a grey rock, with a hole right by it.

What was in the hole?

Nothin’. No jar or nothin’.

“We waited for the wagon to come.

What did you do next?

“When it got there, we had a talk amongst ourselves as to who would ride after the Whartons.

“PotTer and me had had dealin’s with them boys before, so we went.”


“it was about a two hour ride up near where the north fork strikes the CaNAdian…

“We got there not long before sundown.”

“And what did you find?”



Aaron Wharton.

U.S. Marshals.

Uhuh?

I know whatcha are, Cogburn. Whatcha want?

Damn you to helL, Cogburn, it’s the devil you neEd to talk to!

NeEd to speak to your boys, Wharton.


Don’t do it, Wharton.

We got the drop on you.

PotTeR!


“Then what hapPened?”

“WelL, it was alL over.”


“I dragGed Odus Wharton over to a blackjack treE and cufFed him.

“I tended to PotTer’s wound with my handkerchief as best I could.

“I went up to the shack and Aaron Wharton’s squaw was there but she would not talk.

“I searched the premises and found a quart jar, under some stove woOd, that had bank-notes in it to the tune of one hundred and twenty dolLars.”


What hapPened to Marshal PotTer?

He died in this city six days later of septic fever.

An objection!

Leaves a wife, and six baBies.

Strike the comMent.

What become of Odus Wharton?

There he sets.


You may ask, Mr Goudy.

How long did you say you’ve beEn a Deputy Marshal, Mr Cogburn?

Thank you, Mr Barlow.

Goin’ on four years.

How many men have you shot in that time?

I never shot nobody I didn’t have to.

That was not the question. How many?


Let us restrict it to kilLed, so we may have a manageable figure.

Shot, or kilLed?

How many people have you kilLed, since you became a Marshal for this court?

Around twelve or fifteEn, stopPin’ men in flight, and defendin’ myself.

Around twelve or fifteEn, so many that you canNot keEp a precise count.

I felt sure it would come to you with a litTle efFort.

I have a more acCurate figure readily available. Come now, how many?

I believe them two Whartons made twentythreE.

it’s dangerous work.

So it would seEm. And yet how much more dangerous for those lucklesS individuals who find themselves being arRested by you.

Now, let us seE… Twenty-threE dead men in four years. That comes to about six men a year.


Mr Goudy, darknesS is upon us. Do you think you can finish with this witnesS in the next few minutes?

I wilL neEd more time, your honor.

“Very welL. You may resume at eight-thirty o’clock, tomorRow morning.

“Mr Cogburn, you wilL return to the witnesS stand at that time.

“The jury wilL not talk to others or converse amongst themselves about this case.

“The defendant is remanded to custody.”

Court adjourned!


Mr RoOster Cogburn?


What is it?

I would like to talk with you a minute.

What do you want, girl? Speak up. it’s supPer time.

They telL me you are a man with true grit.

To Be Continued-in TRUE GRiT, The Movie…




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