Simón Arriaga

Hugo: Well, amigo, our paths cross again! Where is the gold?

Django: It fell into the quicksand… the horse stumbled and the coffin slipped. I guess it’s destiny, General.

Hugo: [chuckles] And so, my gold’s in the quicksand, amigo… that won’t change things. We’re going back to Mexico anyhow, aren’t we? That’s what I decided, and we’ll do it.

Django: Yeah.

Hugo: Now we’re even, Django. You save my life… so I’ll save yours. We don’t kill a thief, even if he betrays a friend. We have ways of teaching them a lesson… right, Miguel?

Miguel: [smacks Django with his rifle butt; begins crushing his hands with the rifle butt; eventually stops crushing Django’s hands; Hugo’s men ride their horses over Django’s hands] ¡Sí, señor! That’s for not sticking with us! And this – for stealing the gold! You traitor! You pig! Those hands won’t be good for stealing any more gold when I get through with you! Go on, men!

Hugo: [chuckles; chuckles] Your plan was great, but you weren’t quick or clever enough to outsmart us. Pity, isn’t it? I hope your friend, the Major… doesn’t happen to pass by here. It would be so embarrassing for you. Do you want me to… say "Hello" to him for you? Hah! Muchachos, vamos! To Mexico!

Miguel: [laughs and rides off] Adiós, gringo! Take good care of your hands!