Original subtitles

DRIVER: Hyah! Hyah!

You must be Dan Mulvaney.

That's right. And you?

Jim Hardie from Wells Fargo.

Hi.

I heard about your accident. I'm sorry.

Oh, it's nothing.

I'll be guarding your money

from here on into Yellowknife.

Well, good.

I was wondering how you happened to be riding

in the baggage car at this time.

Well, the Wells Fargo agent in Kansas city

gave me permission.

I've been sort of, uh, keeping an eye

on my money all the way from Boston.

Maybe you ought to go over to the doctor

and have your shoulder looked at before you leave.

Aw, bullet just grazed me, that's all.

When we leave here, we'll be going by stagecoach

all the way to Yellowknife

There's not any doctors in between.

Oh.

All right. Where do I find the doctor?

In town across the street from the Wells Fargo office.

Thank you.

There you are, Jim. 50 thousand-dollar bills.

Thank you. Don't forget to stop by the office later

and sign the papers.

I'll do that.

Howdy, Jim.

Hello, Sheriff.

Who was he?

Fred Gibson.

That the one they call Fancy Fred?

Same.

Train robbery used to be his specialty.

Is this his gun?

Colt .44.

Four cartridges still in the cylinder.

See you on the way back.

Good luck, Jim.

Thank you. Same to you.

JIM: The lure of the West brought people by the thousands

away from their established homes and businesses

in the crowded eastern part of our country.

One of those men was Dan Mulvaney,

formerly of Boston,

where he was a successful lawyer.

He was now on his way to Texas

where he planned to buy a cattle ranch.

Hey, will you look at this?

What do you know? We got us a dude in town.

You know, these Easterners just ain't got good manners,

pushin' us folks around that-a-way.

If he had any bringin' up,

he'd tip his hat to us

and allow as to how he was sorry.

You heard what my partner said.

We want you should tip your hat.

Tip your hat or I'll blow it off!

I guess they figured you for a dude.

Well, who's that?

Miss Arlene Howard.

Making the trip to Yellowknife with us.

Where's she from?

Cleveland.

That's what she told the agent.

Cleveland, huh?

You know her?

Well, either her or someone who looks remarkably like her,

and not from Cleveland.

You got my money?

Yup.

$50,000.

Let's go.

Hyah! Giddup!

By the way, Mr. Hardie, I... You know...

We're gonna be doin' a lot of talkin' in the next two days

If you continue callin' me Mr. Hardie

your jawbone is gonna awful tired.

All right, Jim.

I just want to thank you

for coming to my assistance back there.

Part of my job.

Wells Fargo doesn't like

to see its passengers get roughed up.

By the way, Miss Howard,

I understand you come from Cleveland.

Yes. I left two months ago.

Oh, I stayed there several times

at one of your biggest hotels, the Sherry Savoy.

There's no hotel in Cleveland by that name.

Oh, really?

I must be thinking of Cincinnati.

Well, I wouldn't know, seeing I've never been to Cincinnati.

Oh.

I understand they're hiring

a new schoolteacher in Yellowknife.

Would that be you?

No. As a matter of fact,

I'm going to open a dress shop there.

DRIVER: Whoa.

What's the matter, Jim? Anything wrong?

No. We'll just get some water, water the horses,

stretch our legs. Oh.

It's a little out in the open, isn't it?

Where's the rest of the house?

An old sod buster dug this well years ago.

He was plannin' to build a home

and farm this land.

I guess he gave it up and moved on.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

Thank you.

You know, Dan, if I was a bettin' man,

I'd be willing to bet that there's

no Sherry Savoy Hotel in Cincinnati.

You know Jim, you'd be betting on a sure thing?

And, uh, the town of Yellowknife

is hiring a new school teacher, huh?

Well, don't why they would.

They haven't built 'em a school house yet.

Say, tell me, Jim, is this a regularly scheduled stop?

Has been ever since the old man dug this well.

Yeah, but isn't that dangerous?

Outlaws thrive on schedules.

If they know you stop here all the time,

they can make their plans accordingly.

We don't worry about this stop.

It's open enough, we can see anyone

comin' from a long way off.

Up there, that gap, that's a different story.

It's called Road Agents Gap.

We've had our share of holdups there, all right.

Tell the driver to hold that coach up about ten minutes.

I'm gonna go up there and scout that gap.

You can pick me up there.

What happened to Mr. Hardie?

Oh, he went up ahead to investigate

the possibility of a holdup.

Oh.

You've done quite enough

signaling for one day, young lady.

Now get in.

I think we've given him enough time.

Giddy-up!

Hyah!

Hee!

DRIVER: Hah!

ROAD AGENT: Hold it!

All right, drop it.

Drop the other one.

Everyone out of the coach.

Where's that Wells Fargo man?

JIM: Up Here!

Throw down your rifle.

And your gun belt.

Oh, Harry!

Harry!

What was that for?

He had a derringer in his right sleeve.

And he was about to use it.

JIM: Arlene Howard identified our would-be holdup man

as Harry Wilson.

They were distant, sort of kissing cousins,

the last two survivors of a family gang of outlaws,

who had outsmarted themselves into early graves.

The Good Book says that

the love of money is the root of all evil.

Well, that was true, as far as Dan Mulvaney's

$50,000 was concerned.

It was bringing out the bad in all sorts of people.

Fancy Fred Gibson and Harry Wilson are dead now

because of their love of someone else's money.

And Miss Arlene Howard,

destined to spend the next few years

behind the bars of a prison.

I don't seem to be very popular

with Miss Howard at this point.

That's the typical female approach to everything.

A lady can be dead wrong and you right.

Suddenly she retreats into her sex...

And her mythical weakness...

Sobs a handkerchief full of tears,

shoots a few accusing glances,

and you are now the villain, and she's lily white.

Ha.

You talk like a bachelor.

And that I am.

I've been meaning to ask you,

you weren't wearing your coat last night

during the fight, were you?

Why do you ask that?

You were shot in the shoulder,

yet I don't see a hole in the coat.

Oh. Well, I was playing cards

with the Wells Fargo messenger.

The coat was over a chair.

That answers it. Let's go eat.

Howdy, Jim.

Hey, Steve, you old horse thief, how are ya?

Meet Dan Mulvaney.

How do you do? How do you do?

Don't be fooled by his clothes.

He's meaner than a sack full of scorpions.

Uh, coming from Jim,

that's almost like a letter of recommendation.

Oh, here's a message came here for you Mr. Mulvaney.

Got it yesterday.

Well, there's whiskey and glasses in there on the sideboard

if you wanna wash the dust outta your throat, Jim.

Thank you. Supper will be ready in about ten minutes.

It's from my brother, Ed.

He wants to remind me he's gonna meet

the stagecoach tomorrow at Yellowknife.

Shanghai Jackson, the man we're buying the ranch from, is gonna be with him.

How 'bout that drink? Let's go.

You know, Jim,

I think she and her late partner in crime

thought I had the 50,000 on me.

It's too bad.

She seemed like a nice person.

Very attractive, too.

I may be a confirmed bachelor,

but I have one fatal weakness.

What's that? Beautiful women.

First time I ever saw you, I said,

"There's a man with an eye for a pretty gal."

That's a mighty nice gun. You mind if I look at it?

I suppose not.

"Be not afraid of any man who walks beneath the skies.

Though he be strong and you be weak, I will equalize."

Now, that's the kind of poetry I like.

You pretty good with it?

Fair. Enough to stay alive so far.

Why don't we find out, huh?

All right.

You ready?

Throw.

Pretty fair.

And now let's see how good they shoot in the east.

All right.

You ready?

Go.

Now we know. Let's see what you got there.

.26 caliber. Mm-hmm.

I think you'll find out here in the west, Mr. Mulvaney,

a bigger gun will do you more good.

One that'll stop a man, instead of just tickling and making him mad.

Excuse me a minute. Sure.

You know how to work one of these things?

Oh, it's not my line.

What are you up to?

Just sending a message to our man in Yellowknife.

Tell him we'll be in there sometime tomorrow.

I've been wanting to talk to you, Mr. Mulvaney.

All right, Miss Howard, talk.

Have you figured out how to get that $50,000

away from Mr. Hardie yet?

Now, why in the world will I want to get my money

away from Mr. Hardie?

Because it isn't your money.

Really? ARLENE: Really,

Mr. Fancy Fred Gibson.

Oh, I was in Kino Mabel's in Kansas City

when Mr. Fancy Fred Gibson was pointed out to me.

Keep talking.

Oh, I haven't told Mr. Hardie yet,

because it wouldn't help me.

And just how do you wanna be helped Miss Howard?

I want to escape.

The horses and saddles are over there in the stable,

but they got a big padlock on the door.

And I heard that you were wonderful at pickin' locks.

Well, that was my mistake.

I didn't think Miss Howard would be able to pick a lock.

She's got a eye for horses, too.

Took our best one.

You goin' after her, Jim?

No. The most important thing right now

is to get this money to its destination.

After that, there'll be plenty of time to go after her.

Well, coach is ready to roll.

If any messages come over the wire for me,

forward them on to Yellowknife.

I'll do that, Jim.

All right, roll 'em out.

DRIVER: Hyah!

Have you got another wheel, Steve?

No. We'll have to order one from Yellowknife.

Well, that stage won't be through here for two days yet.

That's right.

You mean, we're stuck here for two days?

I'm afraid so.

Jim, I can't wait that long.

My brother Ed's got a deal.

Jackson will change his mind,

and there goes the ranch.

Can I get a horse?

You gonna try it alone?

With my money.

Well, I can't let you do that.

That is, unless you're willin' to sign a release

relieving us of all responsibility for it.

Well, of course, I'll sign the papers.

All right, let's go draw up the papers.

I'll get a horse saddled up.

Well, Dan, ordinarily I wouldn't recommend that most Easterners

try what you're about to do.

But somehow or another, I think you're gonna be all right.

I think I will, too. Bye, Jim.

Good luck to ya. Thank you.

Hold it!

It was only a stick.

You got a message.

I know. Shh.

I'm gonna need a horse. Which one can I take?

Take that bay over in the barn.

You startled me, Jim. I didn't expect to see anybody.

Is the money all there?

Sure.

I found Miss Howard's body back down the road.

She was covered with your coat.

Yeah, I'm really sorry about that.

She staged a fake holdup.

She was hiding in the brush.

I didn't know it was she until it was too late.

I got to thinking yesterday

about the caliber of your pistol.

To be on the sure side, I sent a telegraph

off to the sheriff at Junction City.

The message I got back was this:

"The real Dan Mulvaney

always carried a .26 caliber six-gun in a shoulder holster."

The bullet we dug out of the messenger

and the man you'd have us believe was Fancy Fred Gibson

were both .44s,

which means they were killed by the same man.

Now, the gun you carry is a .26 caliber.

The way I figure it is that you shot the messenger

and the real Dan Mulvaney and tried to get at the safe,

but you couldn't get it open.

So you had to hang around

until somebody came to open it for you.

That's when you took Dan Mulvaney's clothes,

his gun, and now you've got his money.

I guess I didn't think of everything.

You figure pretty good.

Jim, half the money is yours.

I came here to get all of it.

I know you can draw faster than I can,

but I can kill you right where you stand.

Take the money and count your blessings.

25,000.

I can't make a deal like that.

Last chance, Jim.

Get your horse.

JIM: The one part of the message that I didn't tell

was that Dan Mulvaney also carried a cane gun.

I took the dead back to the relay station

and gave them a decent burial.

Then I rode to Yellowknife and delivered

the $50,000 to its rightful owner,

Mr. Ed Mulvaney.

Now, Fancy Fred Gibson wasn't all bad.

In some ways, he was a good man to ride with.

But he wanted wealth

and all the things that money will buy.

He tried to find a shortcut to that position in life

and ended up with permanent possession

of a plot of sandy ground,

just six feet under it.