Original subtitles

Dr. Richard Kimble.

death row, state prison.

Richard Kimble is innocent.

Proved guilty,

what Richard Kimble could not prove

was that moments before discovering

his murdered wife's body,

he saw a one-armed man running from the vicinity of his home.

Richard Kimble ponders his fate

as he looks at the world for the last time...

and sees only darkness.

But in that darkness,

fate moves its huge hand.

ANNOUNCER:

Starring David Janssen as the fugitive.

Eileen Heckart...

Albert Salmi.

ANNOUNCER:

It was his eyes, you know?

I mean, if it hadn't been for the eyes-

Got the dispatch on the way in.

He the one who made the ID?

Yes, sir.

Name's Joe Friar.

Deals blackjack at Brady's Casino.

Just pick up where you left off.

Well, I was telling the sergeant,

uh, this fella had been working at the club a couple of days.

Janitor-type job, you know?

Only with everybody having titles now,

you better call 'em maintenance engineers

or you're bucking for a bust in the mouth.

Just tell us about the man, okay?

Oh, yeah.

Well- Well, it was his eyes.

That's what kept me studying him.

They had a look...

like a guy needing a hard-way six.

Scared, sort of, you know?

The more I studied him,

the more I knew I'd seen him somewhere before.

And then just a couple of hours ago,

it come to me...

...just like that.

His picture's part of the post-office art.

I remembered seeing it last time I was down there

getting off my alimony check.

Richard Kimble. That's his name, ain't it?

If you tabbed the right man.

Must be the right man, lieutenant.

The minute Friar pointed him out

to the policeman, he headed out the back way.

You get out an all-points bulletin?

Right.

For Kimble, Lincoln City's going to turn into a box,

barring a miracle.

A miracle is defined as:

"an effect in the physical world

which surpasses all known human powers. "

For Richard Kimble, however...

...this has become a world of stark realities.

A world where life is lived in inches...

each one possibly the last.

Oh!

My father always said, as a last resort,

a good kick would get these infernal contraptions

going as well as anything.

What seems to be the trouble with it?

The usual infirmities that accompany old age:

a general lack of get-up-and-go.

In fact, no go at all.

Strong smell of gasoline.

It's probably a plugged-up fuel line.

I'll stop at a station further on down,

send somebody back to help you.

Why? When you can fix it?

What makes you think I can?

Well, can't you?

Well, yeah, I suppose I could, uh...

blow out the fuel line, but-

Well, I'm in sort of a hurry, Sister.

A man in a hurry would walk across this desert

when he has a chance to ride?

I'll see what I can do.

Is there something wrong?

On the contrary, I was just marveling

at how swiftly providence can work

at certain times.

Yes, you'll do just fine.

I'll tell him. Thanks.

Well, the state patrol's covering Highways 50

and 395 out of town.

The sheriff's squad's boxing up the country roads,

and the local police officers are roadblocking

all the farm roads.

Well, that should do it.

Even if he did get out of the city.

The arresting officer was Lieutenant Gerard.

Shall I give him a call?

Forget it.

Lieutenant, this warrant says he should be notified if-

I said, forget it.

When you've been on the force as long I have, Joe,

you learn that old habits, like old friends,

are hard to change.

In this department, I've developed the habit

of burying my own dead.

Since Kimble chose to visit my town...

He reads like quite a guy.

Yeah.

Thirty years in the business, and men like Kimble

are still the ones who fascinate me.

Their intelligence magnifies their fears into a pain

like a handful of burning grease.

When it's over...

even the chair must be a relief.

Then his relief shouldn't be too long in coming.

If he's holed up in the desert, he'll soon be starved out.

If he's on one of these roads...

he's in for a short trip.

Nick Walker, you said?

Yeah, that's right, Sister.

Oh. Well, Mr. Walker,

you are a splendid mechanic.

This car has not run so well

since I left the convent.

This car isn't running, Sister.

It's looking for a quiet place to die.

Tsk. Mr. Walker,

that would hardly be consistent with the facts.

There I was, knowing that I had to make a journey

with absolutely no way.

And one morning,

a parishioner arrives at the convent

and presents us with this car as a gift.

You mean you think the car was sort of ordained?

Oh, that sounds a little pompous,

don't you think?

Still, that's the general idea.

I thought sisters weren't allowed to travel alone.

That's correct.

Sister Margaret was going to accompany me,

but she took ill.

Now, don't you think you ought to turn back

and wait till the sister's well enough to travel again?

Turn back?

No, Mr. Walker, there's no turning back for me.

Well, I hope your trip's a short one.

I'm going to see Father Kerrigan.

He's serving at St. Helena's in Sacramento.

Sacramento?

Yes.

Uh, Sister, Sacramento is over the mountains.

Oh, Mr. Walker, you are a worrier.

There is simply no doubt about it, we'll make it.

Uh, you have used the term "we... "

several times.

Now, I get the strongest feeling that you mean you and me.

Of course.

Well, let's get something straight, Sister.

I mean, I'm only going as far as Ravenna with you.

That's all. No farther.

Sister.

Uh. I don't seem to be getting through to you.

On the contrary, Mr. Walker,

it is I who am not getting through to you.

Now, there I was, stranded in the desert...

unable to complete a journey

that I know I am destined to make.

And out of the blue...

you appear, on foot.

Now, I ask you, Mr. Walker,

what possible set of natural circumstances

could have brought us together like that?

ANNOUNCER The interstate fugitive's identity

was definitely established at 1:55 early this morning.

Sketch artists are now attempting to detail

an up-to-date likeness of Kimble.

Meanwhile, roadblocks are being set up throughout the area.

Why are all these cars stopped?

It's a roadblock.

That's a policeman up ahead.

Why, that's Henry Mesta.

He owns the drugstore at Galway.

His children go to our school.

He only does police work part-time.

I wonder what he's looking for.

What is that horrible noise?

Radiator.

Since we're not moving, there's no air blowing,

so it'll probably freeze up any minute now.

Is that bad?

Yeah, it's bad, Sister. It's very bad.

Uh... what are you doing?

Mr. Walker, I want you to move right on up ahead,

because I wanna speak to Henry.

Let's, uh...

not make a bad situation worse.

Okay, Mac, you start laying heavy

on that horn again-

Henry Mesta,

it was I who was laying heavy on that horn,

and with good reason.

Do you see that radiator?

Sister Veronica.

What are you doing out here?

Trying to complete a journey

before this contraption blows up.

Now, will you let us pass through here?

Why, sure, ma'am. As soon as I check his identification.

Oh, this just has a name and address.

I need a description.

Your driver's license will do.

Now, see here, Henry, I am not going to sit here

waiting for that thing to boil over

and cook me like some stewing hen.

This man is Nick Walker,

and he was sent to see me

safely to my destination.

Well, isn't my word good enough for you?

Well, sure, ma'am, but-

Well, then, let us out of here before that-

Before what freezes over, Mr. Walker?

Uh, the block. Well, Henry?

Okay. Pass on.

And come to church more often.

You haven't been there in a month.

Yes, ma'am.

I'm surprised at you, Sister.

Oh?

You, uh, gave Henry the distinct impression

that my presence was by reason of official authority.

But it is, Mr. Walker.

Of the very highest authority.

Well, goodbye, Sister, and, uh- Uh-

Now, don't act like that.

I told you I was only going as far as Ravenna.

Sister, I'm headed south.

Not over the mountains. I'm headed south.

Sister, faith...

is a wonderful thing...

but there is also reality.

Now, I didn't, uh, drop down beside you on a sky-hook.

I drove out..

on a truck.

Sell the car.

Sell the car, you get the money,

you take a bus to Sacramento.

The car is not mine to sell,

only to use.

Oh, Sister,

this car's only got about 10 good miles in it.

Now, the tires are rotten, the radiator leaks...

Mr. Walker, you said you had to catch a train.

Might you not miss it?

What are you gonna do?

I don't know.

At such a time, all one can do

is to wait and seek guidance.

Hey.

Hi, friend.

Here you are, right back where you started from, hey?

You know, I wish I had a dime for every one of them

switching freights I've hopped on by mistake.

It's an occupational hazard

for the second-class travelers.

H- Hey, mister,

you got an extra smoke on you?

I- I ain't fussy about the brand.

Oh. Oh, thanks, pal.

Don't feel bad about missing that through freight,

because they stopped it at the edge of the yards.

The fuzz were looking for a guy.

Uh, they didn't find him...

but they kicked me off anyway.

Mr. Walker, I think you'd better continue to drive.

Mountain heights have a tendency to make me dizzy.

Uh, Sister, I, uh...

decided to take this secondary road through the mountains

because I felt that- It looks like a very good road.

Yeah, well, I, uh...

I think it's shorter.

Whatever you decide, Mr. Walker.

Yeah, there's nothing to worry about.

It's only the world, so let's ignore it, right?

I don't understand you.

Well, I'm referring to what is commonly called

the facts of life.

I, uh, don't suppose

you made financial provisions for the trip?

Of course.

Twenty-two dollars and 35 cents.

Good.

That's what I had when I started out.

$1.45.

A d-?

Why, that isn't even gonna get us

to the top of the next hill.

Then we shall simply have to add to it.

Uh, maybe there are some pack stations up here.

That's a place where hunters get supplies.

It's out of season, but maybe I can find something to do.

Not maybe, Mr. Walker.

Oh, there's absolutely no doubt about it, right, Sister?

Right.

You see, the season doesn't open for another month,

so there's really nothing to do around here.

I'm sorry.

Well, thank you very much.

I'd recommend some other stations,

but they're not open either.

You should've taken the main highway.

There's a lot more action over there.

Yeah, there would be.

I hope the work won't keep you long.

There's no work, Sister.

Nor is there likely to be any up ahead.

Something will turn up.

Don't you think the gentleman might need some help?

To look at him, he doesn't need help, Sister.

I... think he could carry a bale of hay under each arm.

But shouldn't you find out if he intends to?

Hi.

Can I give you a hand?

Who are you?

My name's Nick Walker.

You a priest or something?

No, I'm just driving the lady over the mountains.

You people like the Boy Scouts?

You gotta do a good deed every day?

Yeah, I'll do all the good deeds you want for $2 an hour.

Yeah?

Yeah. Why not?

Nobody can say old Chuck Mathis

wasn't willing to give a helping hand

to the preachers of goodness and light.

Clear the truck off from here on back,

put it up in the barn and stack it neat.

It's 2 bucks an hour. Get to work.

Attaboy. Uh, now, you're doing good.

You just keep right at it.

Well, take another one off the invoice, Sherie.

You're drinking that hay faster than he can unload it.

A man has got something to celebrate,

he celebrates.

Yes, sir, in two days, little-old Chuck Mathis

is gonna be right down there

in the middle of San Francisco.

I'm gonna shake the moss off my back.

I'm gonna forget that I ever lived

up here on these mountains.

Well, Chuck, somebody's bound to benefit.

Question is, who? San Francisco or us?

It could be you.

Look, spending your years up here

on your old man's pack station,

that isn't living.

I call it a waste.

Drink your beer, Chuck.

Maybe once I've made my pile,

I'll just write for you to come down

and help me spend it.

How's that?

Look, I got executive talent by the yard.

Didn't I get me a boy to unload my hay?

Oh, sure, Chuck, you're the most.

Just ask anybody on the mountain.

You taking on San Francisco?

They'll probably put you in a cage

and feed you bananas.

Oh, baby. Oh.

You are a scream.

You are very funny... Chuck.

...you know that? Oh.

Um...

Your beer is getting warm.

Well, well, well.

You are just bubbling over

with the milk of human kindness,

aren't you, huh?

You're driving a nun across the mountains,

now you're protecting the honor of little ladies.

You said to unload the hay and stack it.

It's done. I'd like to get paid.

That's only $3.

You owe me 6.

The other 3 is in my pocket.

Come on.

Come on, you wanna try to come and get it? Come on.

He sort of gets to you, doesn't he, mister?

Some people are all heart.

Miss-

It's all right, thank you.

My father's around back.

Besides, Chuck's leaving anyway, aren't you, Chuck?

Hey, Walker,

don't take any wooden angels.

There's a funny guy for you.

Not the type you'd expect to be carting a nun around.

And in that old heap,

I- I wonder why he doesn't stick to the main roads.

Maybe they robbed a couple of banks.

So why don't you chase them around for a change?

You have been extremely tense

ever since we left that pack station.

Is something wrong?

Oh, now, what could possibly be wrong, Sister?

Aside from keeping this old car patched up...

finding a place to stay, some food for ourselves...

gas and oil to keep the car running...

all on $4.45,

which is the total wealth we possess between us.

Plus, I might add- Mr. Walker.

I would appreciate not having to listen to any more such talk.

Now, it is my fervent wish

that before this journey is over,

you will have learned that what is to be, will be.

Amen.

Where's the jack?

I don't believe there is one.

No jack?

Well, then, how-? Mr. Walker...

I'm sure that you will find a way.

A most ingenious device.

Well, it's just a lever applying

an elementary law of physics, Sister.

Man learned to lift more than his own weight

long before he discovered fire.

All right, you can get off now.

Mr. Walker, you have

a definite scientific bent.

You should think about taking up

something in that field.

All right, Walker, what's the idea

of blocking a public road?

It has to do with an elementary law of physics.

Mr. Walker can explain it to you.

Well, all I want from Mr. Walker

is for him to move that log

so I can get out of here.

I still got three deliveries to make.

I don't plan to miss the fights on TV tonight.

May I talk to you?

All right, what's on your mind?

My 3 bucks.

Otherwise, since I've already got that car jacked up,

I might just decide to leave it there a while.

I'll move it myself. Now, just a minute.

Things are a little different out here.

There's just you, me, the sister and the trees.

Now, you decide to make that walk,

you're liable to find it's the longest walk you ever taken.

Oh, what's so amusing?

Chalk another one up for providence, Mr. Walker.

Not only did we make a jack, but $3 as well.

Hey, Morris, you been out

shooting squirrels on county time?

I've been out on official business,

looking for a fugitive.

What kind of fugitive?

Oh, prime stock.

Doctor named Kimble who decided to commit himself a murder.

Somebody spotted him down in Lincoln City.

A man catch someone like that,

sure would give him some size, wouldn't they?

Yeah.

But, uh, you go back to your beer bottle, Chuck.

We'll find him.

More bread and cheese?

No, thank you.

Mr. Walker, I wish you'd stop

looking out that window.

There's nothing to be worried about.

We just, um...

come in and make ourselves at home

in a completely furnished cabin, hm?

You said it yourself.

On $6, we could hardly buy food

and lodging and gasoline.

Besides...

wasn't the door unlocked?

Just another little guiding hand

to get you through on this

predestined trip of yours, Sister?

Predestined, yes. But only for me?

What are you talking about?

I'm talking about you, Mr. Walker.

"A man who drifts from job to job. "

Isn't that what you said?

That's right.

You, a man without roots?

Doesn't fit.

Oh, I see. I see, yes.

That's the way it is in that never-never land of yours,

right, Sister?

You look at a man's face,

and right away you can tell what he is.

Well, Sister, this is the big human jungle.

It doesn't work that way.

I mean, you just can't put people

in convenient little niches

because of the way they blink their eyes.

The devil doesn't walk around with horns.

And every man that society condemns

is not straight from-

I am sorry. I-

Not usually that rude.

It's just that, Sister, when you try to analyze me,

you're out of your element. I, uh...

I showed up. I...

I'm driving you across the mountains.

That's all there is between us.

Is it?

You so-called realists simply amaze me.

Priding yourselves on being able to face the world

with absolute objectivity.

Able to bleed but not to weep.

And having a smug contempt

for anyone whom you consider naive.

Well, Mr. Walker, according to your standards,

perhaps I am naive.

But even in your big human jungle,

I can still see the pain in your eyes.

And whatever the reason, I know you're running.

Now, maybe it's from an estranged marriage,

or a business failure.

The reason doesn't matter.

The point is, you're running.

I thought my presence here

was due to the long arm of providence.

A providence perhaps for you as well as for me.

But a person can't run forever.

Eventually, he must stop and face his problem.

Who knows, Mr. Walker.

Perhaps that time has come for you.

Good night.

Like I told you...

I seen this guy hop off a switching freight...

I cadge him for a smoke, we talked for a minute,

and then it's, so long, Charlie.

I told all this to the cops up in Ravenna.

What you wanna bring me up here for?

All right, let him go.

You want me to get in touch with this Lieutenant Gerard?

Plenty of time for that after we've caught Kimble.

Now, if I were Kimble and I missed my freight...

there'd only be one other sensible way to go from there:

west, into the mountains.

That's sort of out of your jurisdiction, isn't it?

Somebody shakes up my town, Joe...

...I'm gonna stretch the city limits a long ways.

We'd better be moving on, Sister.

I'm almost ready.

A cabin set away in the woods...

and you thought you could come here and not be found.

A foolish mistake, se�or.

You think people who build such places

do not hire others to watch for intruders?

You mean you're caretakers?

For many such cabins in this area.

Now we go to the sheriff.

Well, no- Uh-

I have some money.

We're honest men.

Do you think we would-?

Good morning.

I'm Sister Veronica.

This is Mr. Nick Walker,

who's assisting me on my journey to Sacramento.

We were in need of a place to stay,

and we found the door unlocked.

Is something wrong?

I didn't know, Sister.

About you, I mean.

I'm sure the owner of this cabin

would have welcomed you to stay.

Thank you.

Thank you all very much.

Mr. Walker, will you get my bag, please?

Sister...

for three weeks now, our car has been broken.

So for three weeks, we have not traveled

down the mountain to church.

This being Sunday, perhaps...?

Perhaps you would lead us in prayer?

You don't need anyone to lead you in prayer.

No voice is so small that it cannot be heard.

But in the presence of one so close to God...

our prayers are bound to have more meaning.

Mr. Walker...

may I have our funds, please?

I saw a bus stop down the road.

You will buy passage to church

for yourself and your friends.

But, Sister-

We will be leaving here shortly.

The cabin will be as we found it.

Now, what was that all about?

I see no reason for us to discuss it.

Uh, Sister...

I think we...

should discuss it.

For whatever reason I'm here,

your version or mine, I am here.

With little more than four thin tires and a prayer.

Now, all along I've been hearing about how we had it made

because of that faith of yours.

And the first time that somebody asks for help, you back away.

This friend you're gonna visit, Father Kerrigan.

You know, I keep getting the strongest impression

it's the last place you wanna go.

All right, Mr. Walker,

I suppose you have a right to know.

I am going to see Father Kerrigan

to tell him of my decision to...

renounce my vows and leave the sisterhood.

Oh, that's fine, Sister.

Yeah, that's just fine.

Well, we start a trip that shouldn't have been started,

we get a lot farther than we have any right to,

and all along...

All along I'm being told how things have been ordained.

You wanna know something, Sister?

It was beginning to get through to me.

Like the rekindling of an old fire

I'd forgotten existed.

And now I find out it's nothing but a bunch of words

coming from a quitter.

Oh, not a quitter, Mr. Walker.

I tried.

I am 41 years of age...

and my only possession...

is a memory of empty faces.

A representative of God...

who is unable to communicate.

All those years. All those faces,

seeking guidance that I was unable to convey.

To marry the Church, Mr. Walker,

is to perform, and to perform well.

I have...

not met even the lowest standards.

You just can't break out

of that world of fantasy, can you?

What do you mean?

I mean that even in religion, Sister,

there is a practical side.

What you're looking for is

the parting of the waters, isn't it?

Dunk a few fishes and loaves of bread

that feed the multitudes.

Doesn't come on in a flash of light

and crash of thunder.

You haven't accomplished a thing, have you?

Oh, look, Sister.

Sister, they're not empty faces.

Not the ones that came to know you.

Mr. Walker, let me tell you

about one of those faces.

It was my last...

parish school.

There was a young Indian boy.

He was about 16 years old.

His name was Hozhoni.

"Hozhoni" is a Navajo word

that means "happiness" and "right thinking. "

They told me he was a bad boy.

And they were right.

He'd done many wrong things.

He'd cheated and he'd stolen, but...

I came to love him very much.

There was so much I wanted to teach him...

and I wanted to give to him.

But I failed him.

Three nights a week,

I gave religious instruction to young adults...

and behind the classroom, there was a library.

It was a tiny little room.

It wasn't any bigger than a closet, really.

But... for Hozhoni...

it was his refuge...

his other world.

He came there for peace

and for understanding.

Sometimes he would appear...

late at night, after- After class.

And he'd be standing there in the doorway,

drunk... weaving.

I'd bring him in and I'd make coffee...

and we'd sit and we'd talk,

and we'd talk.

Talk.

Then it would come.

Always, it would come:

contrition.

The self-guilt.

And when Hozhoni would leave,

he would leave with God beside him,

vowing that he wouldn't drink again

and he wouldn't steal again.

And then it would happen again.

And there would be a next time.

And then there was the final time,

because I...

I felt that Hozhoni must...

stand alone...

without using me as a crutch.

That he had to face himself alone,

to know that he was not alone.

For each of us, God is always there,

if we just reach out for him.

So there came a night...

when he came to the door and-

And he knocked...

and I ignored it.

He came to me for help...

and I...

ignored him.

So after a while he went away...

and that's the last...

I ever saw of him.

Well, you'll see him again, Sister.

How, Mr. Walker?

Six days ago, he was executed in Sing Sing.

Sister, uh-

Last night, you said I should face my past.

And now, here you are, running from your own.

That's true, Mr. Walker.

We do have that in common.

You're running from something in your life,

and I'm...

the worst kind of fugitive of all:

a fugitive from God.

Uh, this business of leaving the sisterhood...

it's a big decision.

I hope you change your mind

before we get to Sacramento.

If we get to Sacramento.

If?

It's your word, Mr. Walker.

Having to do with keeping a broken-down car together.

And the matter of buying food

and gas and oil without funds.

Yeah, it's my word, Sister,

but it's a switch hearing it come from you.

What happened to all that faith of yours?

Those three men back there.

"In the presence of one so close to God," they said.

Am I really so close to God

when there's...

no one for whom

I've given life meaning?

Yes, Mr. Walker.

If we get to Sacramento.

What happens to us now depends on you.

Two fugitives.

One, who has lost faith

in her strength to cross a mountain.

The other, who must cross it in order to live.

Sister Veronica turns to Richard Kimble for help.

But the road is long...

and the mountain is high.