Paladin: Mr. Hat, how much money is in that pot?
Billy the Hat: Hundred and two thousand, three hundred and fifty.
Paladin: And Neal, what's he worth to you?
Waller: I didn't think you meant it.
Paladin: Yes, you did.
Waller: But no one could really win your soul, could they, Mr. Neal? Not really.
Neal: What do you mean? My soul's my own; nobody owns me!
Waller: You see, Paladin? The rat thinks his trap is a palace.
Paladin: Too bad, John Paul. You just lost your last chance. If you'd stayed and won, you could have gone with me, or stayed with Waller as you chose. As things now stand, Waller wins you if he wins this pot.
Neal: You can't do that! That's slavery!
Paladin: I call.