True Grit

Chapter 2

Undeterred by Rooster Cogburn's gruff and intoxicated demeanor, Mattie continued to assert her presence and the urgency of her business with him. "I know it is occupied, Mr. Cogburn. As I said, I have business with you," Mattie reiterated, her voice resolute and determined. Cogburn, a man known for his laziness and busy nature, responded dismissively, "I have a prior business." Undeterred by his evasive response, Mattie pressed on, refusing to let him brush her off. "You have been at it for quite some time, Mr. Cogburn," she pointed out, emphasizing the importance of her mission. Cogburn's voice slurred with the effects of alcohol as he grumbled, "There is no clock on my business! To hell with you! To hell with you! How did you stalk me here?!" Undeterred by his outburst, Mattie calmly explained, "The sheriff told me to look in the saloon. In the saloon, they referred me here. We must talk." Cogburn, in his drunken state, became increasingly defiant. "Women ain't allowed in the saloon!" he declared. Unfazed, Mattie asserted her authority, revealing her age to counter his argument. "I was not there as a customer. I am fourteen years old," she stated firmly. There was a moment of silence as Cogburn absorbed this information. Mattie, refusing to be ignored, reached up and rapped on the door again, this time with more force and urgency. Cogburn, feeling sullen and cornered, finally relented, acknowledging the persistence of the young girl. "The jakes is occupied. And will be for some time," he grumbled reluctantly, signaling his willingness to engage in a conversation with Mattie.

As the scene unfolds, a coffin is brought forth and dropped heavily into the frame. Chalked onto the freshly milled wood of its top is the inscription "Ross, Yell County." There is a momentary pause as the handlers of the coffin adjust their grip. The sound of shuffling and movement can be heard. Then, with a forceful shove, the coffin is pushed over the straw-littered planking of a rail freight car. The camera captures the sight of the coffin sliding into the car, and as it is pushed further inside, the upright planking of the boxcar door comes into view through the foreground. The door closes with a resounding slam, sealing the coffin inside. In the background, the steam engine starts to chug, its rhythmic motion becoming audible. The foreground door moves slowly off-screen, its movement synchronized with the grinding motion of the departing train. The scene sets in motion the somber journey of the coffin, the train carrying it away to its final destination, as the sound of the train's departure fades into the distance.

The barnlike door swings open, revealing the mortician's workroom. The Irish undertaker stands there, holding the door open for Mattie. She enters the room, carrying a bedroll with her. "You can sleep in a coffin if you like," the undertaker offers, his voice carrying a touch of morbid humor. Inside the room, three bodies lie under shrouds on a high work table. The arm of the nearest body sticks out from under the covering, exposing rope burns on its wrist. Nearby, three coffins are in various stages of assembly, evidence of the undertaker's grim occupation. Mattie unrolls her bedroll onto the floor, preparing a makeshift sleeping arrangement. "Not... yet," Mattie responds to the undertaker, indicating that she is not ready to contemplate resting in a coffin just yet. The room is filled with an eerie atmosphere, with death lingering in the air as Mattie prepares to spend the night amidst the somber surroundings.

Mattie continues her determined journey through the streets, observing the various facades and signage. Her attention is caught by a barn-like building with a sign that reads: Col. G. Stonehill Licensed Auctioneer Cotton Factor Intrigued, Mattie decides to visit Stonehill inside. She walks up to the doorway of an office located in a corner of the stable. "How much are you paying for cotton?" Mattie straightforwardly asks Stonehill as she enters the office. Stonehill glances up from his desk, eyeing the young girl up and down before responding. "Nine and a half for low middling and ten for ordinary," he replies. "We got most of ours out early and sold it to Woodson Brothers in Little Rock for eleven cents," Mattie informs him. "Then I suggest you take the balance of it to Woodson. We took the balance to Woodson. We got ten and a half," she counters. "Why did you come here to tell me this?" Stonehill questions, curious about her purpose. Mattie introduces herself, revealing her identity. "I thought we might shop around up here next year, but I guess we are doing all right in Little Rock. I am Mattie Ross, daughter of Frank Ross." Stonehill puts his pen down and leans back in his chair, showing a momentary flicker of respect for Mattie's late father. "A tragic thing. May I say your father impressed me with his manly qualities? He was a close trader but he acted the gentleman." Interrupting the somber atmosphere, Mattie gets straight to the point. "I propose to sell those ponies back to you that my father bought." Stonehill dismisses the idea. "That, I fear, is out of the question. I will see that they are shipped to you at my earliest convenience." Mattie persists. "We don't want the ponies now. We don't need them." "Well, that hardly concerns me. Your father bought those five ponies and paid for them, and there is an end to it. I have the bill of sale," Stonehill asserts, unwilling to entertain the notion of returning the ponies. Undeterred, Mattie moves on to the next matter. "And I want three hundred dollars for Papa's saddle horse that was stolen from your stable." Stonehill chuckles in response to Mattie's request. "You will have to take that up with the man who stole the horse." "Tom Chaney stole the horse while it was in your care. You are responsible," Mattie argues. Stonehill continues to maintain a dismissive demeanor. "I admire your sand, but I believe you will find that I am not liable for such claims." Undeterred, Mattie presents her case. "You were custodian. If you were a bank and were robbed, you could not simply tell the depositors to go hang." "I do not entertain hypotheticals; the world as it is is vexing enough. Secondly, your valuation of the horse is high by about two hundred dollars. How old are you?" Stonehill questions. Defending her position, Mattie asserts, "If anything, my price is low. Judy is a fine racing mare. She has won purses of twenty-five dollars; I have seen her jump an eight-rail fence with a heavy rider. I am fourteen." After a brief pause, Stonehill responds, "Hmm. Well, that's all very interesting. The ponies are yours, take them. Your father's horse was stolen by a murderous criminal. I had provided reasonable protection for the creature as per our implicit agreement. My watchman had his teeth knocked out and can take only soup. We must each bear his misfortunes." Unyielding, Mattie declares her intention to take legal action. "I will take it to law." "You have no case," Stonehill retorts confidently. "Lawyer J. Noble Daggett of Dardanelle, Arkansas may think otherwise—as might a jury, petitioned by a widow and three small children," Mattie counters. Curious, Stonehill inquires about Mattie's mother. "Where is your mother?" "She is at home in Yell County looking after my sister Victoria and my brother Little Frank," Mattie responds. "I cannot agree with a minor child. You are not accountable," Stonehill asserts. "Lawyer Daggett will back up any decision I make; you may rest easy on that score. You can confirm any agreement by telegraph," Mattie confidently declares. Stonehill stares at her, contemplating the situation. "I will pay two hundred dollars to your father's estate when I have in my hand a letter from your lawyer absolving me of all liability from the beginning of the world to date. The offer is more than liberal, and I make it only to avoid the possibility of troublesome litigation." Unsatisfied, Mattie presents her counteroffer. "I will take two hundred and twenty-five dollars for Judy, plus one hundred for the ponies and twenty-five dollars for the gray horse that Tom Chaney left. He is easily worth forty. That is three hundred twenty-five dollars total." Stonehill refuses to accept the terms. "The ponies have no part in this. I will not buy them." "Then the price for Judy is three hundred twenty-five dollars," Mattie firmly states. "I would not pay three hundred and twenty-five dollars for a winged Pegasus! As for the gray horse, it does not belong to you! And you are a snip!" Stonehill retorts, finding Mattie's demands unreasonable. Defiant, Mattie stands her ground. "The gray was lent to Tom Chaney by my father. Chaney only had the use of him. Your other points are beneath comment." Stonehill attempts to make a final offer. "I will pay two hundred and fifty dollars and keep the gray horse. I don't want the ponies." Mattie refuses to accept the offer. "I cannot accept that." Realizing that the negotiations have reached an impasse, Mattie concludes, "There can be no settlement after I leave this office. It will go to law." "This is my last offer. Two hundred and fifty dollars. For that, I get the release previously discussed, and I keep your father's saddle. I am also writing off a feed and stabling charge. The gray horse is not yours to sell. You are an unnatural child," Stonehill declares, frustrated with the situation. Defiant and resolute, Mattie stands tall. "The saddle is not for sale. I will keep it. Lawyer Daggett can prove ownership of the gray horse. He will come after you with a writ of replevin." Stonehill, unfamiliar with the legal term, asks, "A what? All right, now listen very carefully as I will not bargain further. I will take the ponies back and keep the gray horse, which is mine, and settle for three hundred dollars. Now you must take that or leave it, and I do not much care which it is." "Lawyer Daggett would not wish me to consider anything under three hundred twenty-five dollars. But I will settle for three hundred and twenty if I am given the twenty in advance. And here is what I have to say about the saddle," Mattie declares, determined to secure a fair deal. Having reached a stalemate, Mattie exits the office with the saddle in tow. She stops before the Monarch Boarding House, studying its sign and noticing the busted-out porch railing, contemplating her next move.

Mattie finds herself enveloped in a tight embrace by Mrs. Floyd, a Marjorie Main-like woman, as she crushes Mattie to her bosom. Mattie grimaces, her arms pinned to her sides. Mrs. Floyd, concerned and sympathetic, mentions Frank Ross. "Frank Ross's daughter. My poor child. My poor child," she laments. Mattie cuts to the chase, inquiring about her father's traps. "Oh yes, we do. My poor child. Are you gonna be staying with us, or are you hurrying home to your mother?" Mrs. Floyd asks, still holding Mattie tightly. "I am staying briefly. I have business with Marshal Rooster Cogburn. I found him in his cups today, but I understand he's to be in court tomorrow, testifying. I mean to engage him to hunt down Tom Chaney," Mattie explains her purpose. Mrs. Floyd expresses gratitude for Rooster Cogburn's intention to testify. She informs Mattie about the tariff, which amounts to seventy-five cents for a room and supper, excluding daytime meals. "Very well," Mattie agrees with the arrangements. Mrs. Floyd continues, mentioning that Mattie's father owed for two days. Mattie acknowledges this fact, perhaps realizing her father's unpaid debts. "You'll share a room with Grandma Turner. We've had to double up, what with all the people in town coming to see the hanging Judge Parker's put on for us," Mrs. Floyd informs Mattie. "Yes, I witnessed the hanging myself," Mattie responds, referring to an earlier event. Curious, Mrs. Floyd asks, "Was it a good?" likely inquiring about the execution. The scene shifts to the bedroom. A blanket is unrolled, revealing a watch, a cheap knife, and a long-barreled Colt's Dragoon revolver. Mrs. Floyd explains that these items were found in the poor man's room and assures Mattie that there are no thieves in the house. She offers an empty flour sack for Mattie to carry the gun if needed, suggesting a practical solution. As Mattie lies on her back, staring into space, the sound of snoring fills the room. There is only one bed, not large, occupied by two individuals. Mattie shivers, hunching her shoulders, as the thin blanket barely covers her. She gently pulls the blanket, trying to cover her exposed side, seeking warmth and comfort. The scene fades out as the snoring continues and the blanket is pulled away toward the unseen snorer, leaving Mattie partially exposed to the chilly air.