A/N: Alternate ending to the 1970 movie "Two Mules for Sister Sara", after Hogan hauls the strongbox into Sara's room. For modesty sake we will have her out of the bathtub and dressed by the time he enters...
Razing Hell
Hogan used the creaky and bulky wheelbarrow to push through the door and into the room. Inside, he found Sara was dressed in a nightgown and the smell of soapy water filled the humid air emanating from the bathtub located near the center of the room. "I thought you were taking a bath," he said in response to her reply when he called at the door to come in.
"I finished."
"Obviously." He wheeled the cart, which held a large wooden chest, to one side of the tub and turned the conveyance over, depositing the chest on the floor. Not bothering to tip it back upright, he took a lit cigar out of Sara's mouth and put it in his own as he sat on the chest's sooty surface. His dirty clothes were none the worse for the act although the chest might have become marginally cleaner as a result.
"I wasn't done with that," she said.
"You can have it back after I've said my piece. Just to get this straight in my head, when I first saw you before those banditos were about to introduce themselves to you - one at a time, I hope - you were traveling as a nun. Those poor fellows never found out, did they? They seemed more interested in your...ah...charms than in any plans you had."
"I didn't tell them that the money I was carrying was raised to help fund Mexican revolutionaries, no. I never really got a chance. When they first caught me I didn't have my full habit on, and they were interested in what men normally are interested in; talking had very little to do with it. In fact, you're the first man I ever met that DIDN'T try to take advantage of me."
Logan smiled. "I won't ask how many that's been. With your familiarity of those wonderful people in the bordello, I imagine that the tally would take more than the fingers I have on my hands. Professionally speaking, of course."
"Of course," Sara agreed.
"There's a problem, though. You know too much about the faith, Sister Sara. I'm not talking parishioner knowledge, I mean the whole thing - last rights, prayers, even when you say "At times like this the church grants dispensation". You may be a prostitute, or was, but you're a sister...or was. I haven't made up my mind yet which order they came in. Care to clear that up just a little bit?"
Sara fidgeted a little and closed the opening of her dressing gown a little tighter. "Kinda hard to say," she admitted. "I've been interested in both for as long as I can remember. Ironic, isn't it? Being drawn to almost exact opposite things, I mean. Poor, but rich in good deeds and faith. A heavy purse, but with a cold life between customers. I even tried once to go back to the bordello and bring them the Word...but I still got swept up with old friends and lifestyles. I finally had to set myself a task to cleanse myself of my former life, so I decided to help the Mexican people fight off the invaders."
"I wonder how Maximilian feels about that."
"Damn him. Pardon my French."
"We both know you speak French, both the real and the colloquial. I didn't know nuns spoke in tongues, though."
"You'd be surprised. Mother Juanita hit her thumb with a hammer once and...well anyway, I don't care what Maximilian thinks. He doesn't belong here, and one day the people will defeat him and that will be the end of the European emperor. Not that you care - San Francisco is far away from the dirt hovels of Chihuahua. You'll take your treasure there and go have that gambling hall you always wanted."
"Oh, I care sister." Hogan looked around for a drink and didn't spot any so he went on. "Let me show you how much I care." He stood up and approached Sara, who let out a little gasp and braced herself. When Hogan was about two feet away, he turned and drew his pistol before firing at the wooden chest. The lock flew off and skittered across the floor.
Outside, they could hear heavy footsteps approaching before a man burst into the room - the owner of the bordello. "Is everything bueno Sara?"
"Just fine," Hogan explained. "Stubborn lock." He waved his gun in the direction of the chest. The owner looked at the lock and the chest before looking at Sara; when she just shrugged, he turned and left - a little confused, but content that she wasn't in immediate danger. Hogan spun the chest around in the other direction so Sara could see inside of it. A few coins rolled and slid out, but otherwise the chest was empty.
Flabbergasted, she asked "There wasn't any money in the strongbox? It should have held loaded as the treasury for the French garrison!"
"Oh, there was a lot. Colonel Beltran got his half, and I gave away almost all of my half to the cause."
"Why would you do such a thing?"
"I lost the key."
"No! I mean why would you give most of the money away? I thought you wanted to run some opulent gambling den and fleece those foolish enough to play games of chance."
Hogan sat back down on top of the opened chest after pocketing the few coins that were its sole contents. "Oh, I never said that I WOULD open that kind of place. I'd love to - it would certainly be the life, alright. But my vows of poverty prevent me from doing so."
"Vows of poverty? Wait a minute..." Sara said as she thought back. Hogan, although he had often spoken of what he MIGHT have done if the situation was different, never did anything lewd or licentious toward her. He never said what his profession was, beyond having been in the war between the states. He did drink, but then so did she. He did use the occasional colorful epithet, but then again so did she. But a vow of poverty...
"Are you a priest!?" she asked.
Hogan grinned. "As long as your definition isn't too strict, yes I am. Or was, anyway. I was trying to get back into the graces of the church and thought a little good Samaritan work was in order. Got a little sidetracked for a bit - 'slings and arrows of outrageous fortune' is supposed to be figurative, not a literal arrow in the shoulder. I think the Good Lord will look at the good we did and forgive our methods. After all, at times like these the church..."
"...grants dispensation, I know. See how easy it rolls off the tongue?" Sara said with a smile.
Hogan stood up. "It does at that. But it's probably something I shouldn't get in the habit of saying; who knows what I can rationalize if I just think hard enough."
Sara stood up and crossed over to Hogan and wrapped herself around him. "What if I stick around and keep you out of trouble?"
"And just who would be keeping WHO out of trouble?" Hogan retorted.
"Why Brother Hogan, I'm aghast you would suggest such a thing. Although if you think about it, you could open a small modest gambling hall in San Francisco and use the proceeds to do good, Christian charitable works. Hypothetically, of course. Allow some folks to raise hell so we can raze hell for others."
"Sister, I like the way you look at things," Hogan said as he gave her a quick kiss. "And it says that He moves in mysterious ways. As long as you retire from the personal entertainment area I'll take your idea under serious consideration. But I wouldn't want to dirty your new reputation."
"Like you've dirtied this nightgown?" she asked, pulling away slightly. Some of Hogan's grime had rubbed off on her, although the smell in the room was still overwhelmingly of soap.
"Well, maybe we should take care of that," he said as he picked her up and carried her to the bathtub, stepping in and sitting down with her in his lap.
"The water has gotten a little cold now but I'll scrub your back if you scrub mine," she cooed.
"Any other man should be wary of turning his back on you, but I'LL grant you dispensation personally. Now turn around," he said as he reached for a nearby brush.
She did as directed. "You know, I started out riding a mule and traded for a donkey. Now I've just got you. My third ass. OW!"
The End
A/N: I had never seen this movie, so I watched it on YT - where the last scene was cut off. Although I did find it elsewhere, I'll substitute this one and leave it at that.
Looks like they still ended up in the bathtub after all. Huh.