Original subtitles

MAN: Hyah! Hyah!

Tales of Wells Fargo.

JIM: It was a long way from Kentucky.

That's where I'd been, to my uncle's breeding farm,

where I bought a thoroughbred.

We traveled this way

for hundreds of miles, and I must say

I never knew a better-mannered horse.

He stood sixteen-two

and he was as fast as a horse ought to be.

But he had to be fast,

and he had to have stamina.

That's why I bought him.

It was 1889, and on April the 22nd

a gun would go off and thousands

of land-hungry people

would dash by wagon on horse

and afoot into the Oklahoma Strip

to fight over the choicest land

and to stake out their claim.

Wells Fargo knew the settlers

would need a bank and relay station.

Like everyone else,

we'd seen the map and knew

where the government had laid out

the new towns.

We'd picked our spot,

but we were sure others

had the same idea,

and that's why we bought the black.

When the cannon boomed the signal,

we wanted to take off first

and get there ahead of everyone else.

And with the black carrying our rider,

we knew we couldn't lose.

JIM: Hyah! Hyah!

Whoa.

That's it boy,

stretch your legs. Hyah!

That's quite a horse, mister.

He sure is.

Thoroughbred.

Gonna race him?

Maybe.

Hello, Ken.

Good to see you again, Mr. Hardie.

What's Wells Fargo doing

with a race horse?

JIM: I couldn't wait for the land run.

I've been called to St. Louis,

but I was sure Ken,

the horse couldn't miss

and that Wells Fargo would soon

be in business at the new location.

No one is to start

until the gun goes off.

Army patrols have cleared this area

from the Kansas Line

to the Red River.

There's no one inside the territory

to take an unfair advantage.

Good luck to you.

MAN: Hyah! Hyah!

Easy, boy.

They're so far back

they can't even see our dust.

I didn't expect anybody this soon.

What'd he do, fly?

How are we gonna convince him that we started

the same time?

Now, take it easy, Sloan.

Come on, boy. We're almost there.

Hold it, mister.

The army said the area

had been cleared.

Well, the army's

been wrong before.

Horgan, that bag.

He's from Wells Fargo.

That's right. We planned open a bank

and relay station here.

DEV: Just too bad.

You've seen too much, mister,

and Wells Fargo men have never learned

to keep their mouths shut.

The army gives sooners 20 years.

I didn't get to this site early

to spend the next 20 years in jail.

JIM: Since leaving Ken at the railroad station,

I'd been working out

at the St. Louis office.

One day, I received the usual message.

Morning, Jim.

Morning. You sent for me?

I'm just checking.

Haven't heard from Mason City, have you?

No, why?

Well, there's been no word from Ken Hunter

since you left Oklahoma.

It's more than a month now.

Doggone it, I told him to telegraph you just as soon

as he'd staked the claim.

Well, I just a got letter from the land office.

There was no claim filed.

What?

MAN: Well, we know he left for Mason City.

They were still talking about the way

he rode that horse.

But there's been no word

from Ken Hunter since then.

He's just vanished.

Vanished?

By golly, Ken's always been reliable.

I think you better find out

what happened to him, Jim.

Missing that claim isn't important.

Wells Fargo can't afford to lose men.

I'll look into it.

I'll let you know as soon as I find out something.

JIM: I got to Mason City

just as fast as I could.

I was sure there'd be people there who'd remember Ken

or his big black thoroughbred.

If Ken had been bushwhacked,

might be unhealthy to let on

that I was from Wells Fargo.

Hello, there.

You take care of my horse?

Yeah, how long will you be?

Overnight,

maybe a couple of days.

Not too much water,

and light on the grain.

Mighty fine-looking horse you've got, mister.

Come a long way?

All the way from Cheyenne.

Well, there's not much around here to bring a man

this far, sir.

Depends on what you're looking for.

Maybe you can help me.

I'm looking for a fellow,

man named Ken Hunter.

Well, what do you want him for?

JIM: Few things I wanna talk over with him.

Never heard of him.

He rides a big black gelding.

Big black gelding?

That could be 15 or 20 people

in this town.

Hmm.

All right. If he's here,

I'll find him.

I didn't catch your name, mister.

My name's Tucker,

Jim Tucker.

I'm a horse trader.

I'm Sloan.

That big black horse he's riding

belongs to me.

I wanna find him.

JIM: There was something shifty

about the liveryman.

That's why I gave him the cock-and-bull story

about being a horse trader.

It wasn't such a bad notion at that.

If there's no one who remembered Ken,

they'd sure recollect the horse.

You don't see his kind very often.

Good evening.

Well, good evening to you,

young fellow.

You want a room, huh?

Well, you brought your good luck with you.

We still got one.

It'll be five dollars in advance.

I know it's high-priced,

but there's no other place to go.

Sign right here, please.

Eating place right next door.

Good food, too.

I can tell.

My daughter runs the place.

Thank you, sir.

Yeah, she says

I talk too much.

When a man gets to be my age, well,

there's nothing else left for him to do.

I remember my mother

always used to tell me that

a man that talks all the time

couldn't learn very much.

Well now,

I don't wanna disagree with the lady,

Mr. Tucker,

but there ain't anything goes on

in this town that I don't get

to know about sooner or later.

What about a man named Ken Hunter?

Did you ever hear of him?

No, not around here.

That is, nobody signed the register

by that name.

That's the gospel, Mr. Tucker.

Yes sir, you can depend upon it.

I know because I've been here

ever since the land run.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

He says he's a horse trader.

So?

What was that name we found

in the wallet?

Oh,

Hunter, Ken Hunter.

Well, that's the guy he's looking for.

So?

I don't like it, Horgan. I don't like

no part of it.

Well, maybe he is a horse trader.

Then again, maybe he ain't.

Well, let's just sit tight and see what happens.

But if he keeps asking questions,

the army may start

snooping... or maybe Wells Fargo.

Look, it's my neck and I'm not worried.

Well, it's my neck too and we've got

to do something.

He's bound to come into the saloon.

You let me feel him out,

see how he stacks up.

If he doesn't, we'll take care of it.

All right?

All right.

I'll see you later.

JIM: If I needed something to convince me

that this town held the answer

to Ken Hunter, this was it.

But when they started watching me from the shadows,

then I know I'm on the right trail.

Oh, excuse me, fellows.

Good evening, stranger.

Good evening. I'm Dev Horgan.

This is my saloon.

Good to know you, Mr. Horgan.

My name is Jim Tucker, from Cheyenne.

Oh, glad to meet you, Mr. Tucker.

Could I stand you a drink?

Thank you.

Set him up.

Make mine a beer, please.

Well,

Tucker, what brings you to Mason City?

Horses.

Buy 'em, sell 'em.

Swap 'em. Once in a while,

If I get a good one, I'll race him.

Hmm, well, there's not much of a market here now

that the land race is over.

Not actually why I came down.

I loaned a good black gelding

to a friend of mine

to make the run with.

The last I've heard of him.

Looks like I'm out of horse.

Well, it must be a pretty

special kind of an animal to bring you

all the way down here.

Oh, he is.

He's a good horse.

That black's the fastest

I've ever saw.

He's worth $5,000

if he's worth a penny.

I don't think there's a horse side of Missouri

that could stay up with him. Well, I don't blame you

for going on the prowl.

Five thousand dollars is a lot of money.

He's won three times,

that's where he came from.

Never was outrun.

Competition ran out,

that's why I got it.

Oh, it's funny, you having a black gelding.

I've got one too.

Oh, pretty fast if I do say so myself.

Oh, not as fast as yours, Tucker, but...

he does all right for himself.

Pretty handsome critter, too.

Hmm.

Maybe we could see just how good he is.

What do you mean by that?

Well, that chestnut horse

that I came riding in on,

he's somewhat of a country horse himself.

The only one I ever knew that could even

come close to that black.

In fact, that's why I bought him,

kind of an insurance.

Would you pay me $5,000 for my black

if he beats your chestnut?

I might.

I might want to look at him first, too.

DEV: Oh, you don't wanna look at him.

All you're interested in is whether

my black can beat your chestnut.

I guess that's right.

You got the money on you?

Oh, don't worry about the money.

I have it.

Well, then it's a deal.

Saturday,

both sides of Main Street.

You and I do the riding.

All right.

That's a deal.

You know, Tucker,

I got a hunch that my black's gonna

beat your chestnut.

Well, I wouldn't be surprised.

No sir, wouldn't surprise me at all.

Good night, Mr. Horgan.

You losing your mind?

He'll recognize that horse.

If he's got that $5,000 on him,

he'll never see that horse.

More coffee?

No thank you, ma'am.

I feel just fine.

You sure can cook.

Oh, thank you.

You've been around here long?

Well, dad and I came out

with the land run.

We were almost the first ones here.

Almost the first?

Who was first?

Dev Horgan and his crowd,

Some say he got here a little ahead himself.

A sooner, huh?

JAMIE: Who knows.

You can call him what you like.

Us folks who live here have got to be careful.

Horgan runs this town.

Never made much sense to me when...

one man had all the say-so.

Good night, ma'am.

Good night.

JIM: It struck me as strange,

public stable having a boarded stall

like that.

Unless it was something to hide.

Can I help you?

Just checking to see if my horse

is all right.

Right back there on the stall

where we left him.

Been watered and fed.

Anything else on your mind?

No.

Not right now.

You better see what that is, Dad.

You think he's got the money on him?

Oh, I don't know.

Mr. Tucker?

Let's get out of here.

MAN: Mr. Tucker?

Something's going on in there.

Who was it?

We didn't see them. They might have

gone out the window.

They certainly made a mess of things.

That was a close one.

Yeah, and I don't know whether he's got

the money on him or not.

The old man and his daughter

would show up.

That guy is just crawling in luck.

What do we do now?

Well, if we're gonna run that horse,

we got to do something about it.

Hey, give me that can of white paint

you used to paint that sign with.

The what? You heard me.

Easy, boy now.

That's it, boy. We're gonna fix you up

in a hurry.

You don't think this is gonna fool him?

It's the man's own horse, Dev.

He only needs one good look at him.

You heard him tell everybody

he's looking for a solid black.

What can he say if this white on the horse

that's running against him?

I think you're cutting it pretty thin.

You want the money, don't you?

Let's forget the whole thing.

Oh, you can't lose.

You heard the man.

The black always wins.

Now, it's a cinch. Now just hold his head.

Look at that,

a perfect blaze.

You put some more paint on him tomorrow,

let it soak in real good,

and nobody will ever know the difference.

Except Tucker.

Stop worrying.

First, we collect their money,

then I'll take care of him.

Right?

Right. I guess they can only

hang us once.

I sure wish we knew who was

in your room last night.

I think you've got

a pretty good idea, Jamie.

Is there a marshal in this town?

No. We're still

under army control.

They're 10 miles away at Shelby.

You wouldn't happen to be going over to Shelby,

would you?

I might.

Well, if you did happen

to go over there,

then you might just run

into the colonel.

And if you did,

you might remember to tell him

that we're gonna have a horse race

over here on Saturday.

Would like to have him

start it off.

I might just do that.

Hi-ya, Sloan.

Darby, what are you doing here?

Where have you been?

I've been working over at the Sulphur Springs.

Heard you were having a horse race.

Yeah, Horgan against the guy

from up Cheyenne Way.

Well, you got to hand it to Horgan.

He's a real gambling man.

Yeah.

Come on, let's watch it

from the finish line. Right.

Who did you say that rider was?

Why, he's a horse trader

from up Cheyenne Way.

A horse trader?

Are you kidding? That's Jim Hardie

from Wells Fargo.

Jim Hardie?

Are you sure?

I was at the railhead when you delivered

the black thoroughbred

to a Wells Fargo rider.

It was a big black...

Like the one Horgan is up on now.

Only it didn't have

a blaze face.

MAN: All right, gentleman,

the rules are clear.

You'll line up

for a standing start.

When I give the signal,

you'll break clean.

You'll race to the pole at the other end

of the street,

turn around the pole,

and back to the finish line

in front of the Mason City Hotel.

SLOAN: Hold it. Right.

MAN: What's going on here?

Horgan's cinch is loose.

Get down, Dev.

I just got the word.

This guy is Jim Hardie,

a Wells Fargo agent.

You know what he's here for.

You win that race, he'll know it's his horse.

Are you listening?

Yeah. If you wanna live,

you better lose this race.

All set.

Are you ready, gentlemen?

We're ready, Colonel.

Ready.

Hold it,

hold it.

Hold it.

What's Horgan up to?

I don't know.

JIM: Suddenly, I realized

that Horgan wanted to lose.

That Sloan must have tipped him off to something.

I knew it wouldn't do any good.

The only way I could win the race

was for the black to break a leg,

because there's one thing

men like Horgan don't understand.

Thoroughbreds never quit.

Hold it.

Hold it. Get down.

Not so fast, mister.

I reckon the colonel wants to see you.

DEV: What's this all about, Colonel?

I won the race, I want my money.

This is Mr. Hardie of Wells Fargo.

He's brought serious charges

against you.

Horgan, I'm charging you

with the murder of Ken Hunter.

I never heard of him until he came into town.

He rode that black horse

that you're riding now in the run.

He was supposed to stake out a claim

for us in the site where your saloon

now stands.

Well, that's one mistake, Colonel.

Well, I raised this horse.

I've had him ever since he was a colt.

JIM: You raised him, huh?

We bought the horse in Kentucky.

His registration papers show

that he's a solid black

with no blaze.

And I'm gonna prove he hasn't got one.

This is a bottle of coal oil, Colonel.

MAN: Well,

what have you got to say about that?

He can't prove anything.

Listen, you've got to produce the body.

He's right,

and we'll probably

never find the body. You see?

JIM: But there's more than one way to skin a skunk.

Gonna charge you with horse stealing.

The penalty is exactly the same, hanging.

And I know Ken would understand.