Coy LaHood: Do you imbibe?
The Preacher: Only after nine in the morning.
Coy LaHood: When I left, those tin pans had all but given up. Their spirit was nearly broken. A man without spirit is whipped. But a preacher, he could give them faith. Shit! One ounce of faith, they'll be dug in deeper than tick on a hound. You boys, you go throw a rope around that man. You bring him to me... No, don't. If we get too rough, we'll make a martyr out of him. Don't wanna give 'em a martyr'.
The Preacher: Meantime, why don't you put me to work?
Hull Barret: Oh no, I couldn't ask you to, uh... Well, I mean, ya know - maybe if there was somethin' spiritual.
The Preacher: Well, that Spirit ain't worth spit without a little exercise. Now you tell me where.
Sarah Wheeler: Who are you? Who are you... really?
The Preacher: Well, it really doesn't matter, does it?
Teddy Conway: Where are you going Mr Hull?
Hull Barret: I'm going into town.
Teddy Conway: Ain't that kinda dumb after what happened last time?
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