Original subtitles

DRIVER: Hyah! Hyah!

Hey! Oh, what's the matter, John?

Oh! Just dancin'.

Why don't you leave me be?

I said, leave him be.

Aw, just having a little fun.

Fun?

Last time you caught ahold of me like to broke my leg!

What makes you so mean, anyhow?

It's because he's such a little runt.

If he was a mite taller,

why, he'd be as peaceful as you please.

Shorty!

This place gives me the willies, Pa.

When are we gettin' out of here?

Any day now. Any day.

You've been saying that for over a month now.

Soon as Charley gets settled in his job,

and then we'll drop in on him friendly-like.

Yeah, real friendly.

Yeah, Pa, we'll drop in on him.

A man named Charley Mason

applied for a job riding shotgun for Wells Fargo.

John Curtis, manager of the Denver Office,

hired Charley Mason.

He was confident that he had put on a good man.

But after a while, he began to have doubts.

That's when Curtis called me in.

My name's Jim Hardie,

investigator for Wells Fargo.

JIM: Tell me, Mr. Curtis, if you didn't trust Mason,

if you had doubts, why'd you hire him?

He came in here straightforward

and asked for a job.

With no references,

no one to speak for him, nothing?

No. He told me his name, where he was from,

and some of the things he'd done.

Well, in other words,

the only reason why you hired him then

is because you liked his looks.

Partly. Mostly was because of his wife.

When a man's married, it usually means

you can pretty much depend on him.

I'd say that depends on the wife.

She was with him, nice woman.

I'm sure there's nothing to worry about.

Then exactly what is the trouble?

Well, that's hard to define.

The mind has a strange way

of taking seemingly unimportant things

and puttin' them together.

After I gave him the job and he was riding shotgun,

I found I couldn't stop thinking about it.

Then one day I decided,

for what reason I can't begin to say,

that Charley Mason had lied to me.

Lied about what?

I don't know exactly.

I think it was his name.

I don't think his name is Mason.

What do you think it is?

Long time ago, I lived in Texas.

There was a man named Bostwick, had three kids.

They all wore the family trademark,

a belt buckle with a six-gun on it.

Mason wore a buckle like that when he first came here.

Been so long since I'd seen that buckle

that I... I couldn't quite remember the Bostwicks.

But I got the thinking about that buckle,

and then it came to me.

If these are the Bostwicks that live down

close to the Texas-Mexico border,

Cattle rustling's their business.

Oh, I know it doesn't make sense.

How long has it been since the cattlemen

started sending their money by Wells Fargo?

Hmm, a couple of months, I guess.

Ever since they got held up a couple of times.

Well, pickings aren't gonna be so easy now

if we're responsible for delivering their money.

You mean he could be one of the Bostwicks,

and he'd know when there were going to be

big shipments of cash.

I mean if they were thinking about

going into the business of holding up stagecoaches,

it'd be a pretty handy thing to have one of your kinfolk

sitting up there on the box riding shotgun.

Hmm. Of course, I could be wrong.

Really nothing at all to justify my suspicion.

Well, I'll get a rundown on him.

If your suspicions prove to be correct,

I'll fire him.

Good day, Mr. Curtis.

Goodbye, Jim.

JIM: I found out that Charley Mason or Bostwick

or whatever his name was,

lived in Knights Landing.

Course, he wouldn't be there.

He'd be on the job right now, riding shotgun.

But his wife would be there.

I thought it might be a good idea

if I talked to her.

Mrs. Mason? That's right.

My name's Jim Hardie from Wells Fargo.

Why, has something happened to Charley?

No, ma'am, it's nothing like that.

Well, you wouldn't be here

if there wasn't something wrong.

No, your husband's fine.

He's all right.

Won't you come in?

Thank you.

You've got a nice place.

Won't you sit down?

Thank you.

You know, when I came here,

I wasn't gonna tell you that my name was Hardie

and I work for Wells Fargo.

Why would you do that?

Sometimes, it's what an investigator has to do

in order to get the information that he wants.

And what would you like to know?

Well, seeing your house and meeting you

has told me a great deal.

But a lot of little things like,

well, how long have you been married?

About four months.

Four months?

That's hardly long enough to get the courting over with.

You worry about your husband when he's working?

Yes.

I wanted him to find another job,

something where he wouldn't have to use a gun,

but he refused.

I don't know why.

That so?

Well, I'm sure he had his reasons.

What do you mean?

Don't mean anything.

Where'd you meet your husband, Mrs. Mason?

My father was a traveling preacher.

He'd pitch his tent in a town,

and we'd stayed there for a while holding meetings.

Then we move on.

About five months ago, we were in Texas.

One night, we were holding meeting

and Charley walked in.

He said he'd see me in the wagon

when we came into town.

Yeah, you might say he got religion.

That's right.

He came every night, even joining the hymns.

You should hear him sing

Leaning on the Everlasting Arms.

Well, I think that's wonderful.

Well, that just goes to show you

how many ways there are of courting a girl.

My father was a hard one to convince,

but Charley convinced him.

Dad performed the ceremony.

What do you know about Charley, Mrs. Mason?

He's a nice person.

But you don't really know anything about him, do you?

I mean, he never told you where he came from,

who his family was.

There is something wrong, isn't there?

Something I should know.

You say he's a good husband.

Right now, I think probably

that's the only important thing to know.

Why did you come here?

As I told you earlier,

Wells Fargo is a big company.

They like to know as much as possible

about their employees.

What shall I tell him when he comes home?

Shall I tell him you were here?

If you did that,

and he in turn told you something

that you didn't wanna hear,

well, what would you do?

Then I won't tell him.

Thank you, Mrs. Mason, you've been very kind.

Goodbye.

JIM: I had just about decided I was on the wrong trail.

Mrs. Mason accepting her husband as he was

made me pretty certain he was all right.

Maybe he did have something to hide in his past,

but so do a lot of people.

Whatever it was, I was pretty certain

it wasn't that he was one of the Bostwick tribe.

That's why I went to the Long Horn Saloon

in Bodie, Texas,

where I was told the Bostwicks hung out.

I thought I might nose around

and see what I could find out.

Man can't just go walking into enemy territory,

asking questions without arousing

a lot of suspicion.

So, naturally, I had to go disguised.

Now, a writer is just about the only human being

who can exercise his curiosity,

so I went as a writer,

working for The Atlantic Monthly out of Boston.

There's one of them now.

Shorty, here's a fella been asking

all kinds of questions about you.

My name's Culpepper, Joseph Culpepper.

I work for an Eastern magazine as a writer,

and I've been sent out here

to do a series of articles on the West.

I've heard a great deal about you Bostwicks.

Oh, you hear that, Pa?

Man heard a lot about us.

Yeah.

My name's Tom Bostwick.

Please to meet you, sir.

This here's Judd.

And this here is Lemuel.

Yeah, they call me Shorty.

What kind of things you been hearing about us?

Well, not much locally, I'm afraid.

People here abouts seem to be

reluctant to talk about the Bostwicks.

No, I'm afraid that all I know, I...

I knew before I came.

Ask us. Maybe we can tell you what you want to know.

Sure. Go ahead.

Let me see.

Well, I see you're all wearing

identical belt buckles.

Maybe there's a story behind that

you could tell me.

Be glad to.

Let me tell him, Pa.

I guess I told him, huh?

Anymore questions?

JIM: No.

No, maybe I'll forget about

writing an article about the Bostwicks.

Maybe your magazine'd

be interested in a story about

the James Brothers.

Now, there's a nice family, too.

They live in Missouri.

That's long way off.

JUDD: If you're gonna ask 'em any questions,

you better get started.

Yeah.

All right. Thank you.

Have a nice trip to Missouri.

How about that fella, Pa?

You know for sure there were three brothers,

yet I only saw two.

And you say they were all wearing

the same kind of a belt buckle.

That's right.

Oh, I don't think there's any doubt about it.

He's a Bostwick, all right.

Well, you might as well head back for Laramie.

They're due to have a big cattle sale there

in a day or so.

Stage will be hitting the trail

with a lot of money in its cash box.

And we don't want Bostwick or Mason

or whatever his name is riding shotgun on that.

I remember the last time we talked.

And I said if what you believed to be true

was true that I'd fire him.

Now I don't think that's such a good idea.

Why?

All the evidence is against him.

It's all circumstantial evidence.

Be like hanging a man

without even giving him a trial.

The only person for him is his wife.

Yeah.

But I don't believe that a man

could be married to a girl like that

and hold any cards up his sleeve.

And you're forgetting that the people

in Knights Landing, they think a lot of him.

Yes, but they haven't known him very long.

Well, that's just it.

These people and his wife.

If we fire him without even giving him a chance,

it's gonna ruin two lives.

The stage going out

after the cattle sale will be the one

that Mason is on.

It'll be like handing the Bostwicks $40,000.

Well, then you fire him if you want to.

But why couldn't I go along as a second gun?

I could dress all up like a...

Like a reporter, like a... Like a newspaper man.

If I see anything wrong, then I'll be there.

Hmm.

It's four against one.

Think you can handle 'em?

Well, you know what they say,

the pen's mightier than the sword.

You're letting your sentiment

stand in the way of your good sense.

If I see anything go wrong,

I'll drop my sentiment fast,

but I believe that boy deserves a chance.

Well, all right.

She's all yours.

Now, don't you go getting yourself held up.

It'll cost Wells Fargo a pile of nickels.

We don't aim to get held up.

Come on, Charley.

My first trip out West.

My editor says, "I want you to get out there

and get a little first-hand information, huh?

So the readers can get the benefit of it."

Ready to go folks.

Take her away.

Have a good trip, Courtland.

DRIVER: Hyah!

Come on! Hyah!

Hey, Pa!

There they be down below.

They think they got a shotgun riding aboard.

Where we gonna get 'em, Pa?

They got to stop at Corning Creek to water their horses.

Yeah, we can talk to Charley there.

Yeah.

Hey! Giddup!

So you're a writer, are you, Mr. Culpepper?

Tell me, what do you find to write about?

Well, right now, I'm hoping to do a story

about a hold-up on the Santa Fe Trail,

if I have any luck that is.

Do you mean to say you're looking forward

to being held up?

Well, certainly, aren't you?

The person you wanna interview is the young man

riding on the top of this coach with the driver.

I've got my eye on him.

But I haven't had the chance to question him yet.

Hmm, maybe you'll get your chance now.

Looks like we're stopping here.

Whoa! Ho!

Whoa! Ho!

Corning's Creek.

You got about ten minutes.

Don't stray off.

We're likely to leave without you.

Oh.

It must be dusty riding in all this heat.

Be glad to buy you a drink.

Thanks, I don't drink when I'm working.

Oh.

Of course not.

Oh, this is quite a country out here.

Pioneers settling down.

There's a whole legend being built up about the West.

The world's waiting to hear about it.

Things keep going the way this trip's going, though,

it's gonna be pretty dull hearing.

Say, riding up on the box there,

you must... must have had a lot of interesting experiences.

Maybe you could give me a few anecdotes.

Charley, suppose you take a walk

and stretch your legs.

I'll watch the coach.

I'm gonna give you a little advice, mister.

A man like Charley isn't much for talkin'.

You keep flappin' those lips,

and he's liable to knock you down.

Sure glad I don't have to walk across all that.

You wouldn't last over three, four hours

under that sun.

Well, let's hitch 'em up, and let's get going.

Better go to the barn and tell them

we're leaving in a minute.

All right.

He's an interesting fellow.

I certainly wish I could get him to talk a little.

Them gun fellas don't have much to say.

Maybe if I road up on top,

I could get him to talk to then?

One thing about you writer fellers,

you got a lot of nerve.

Carried a newspaper feller once.

He wanted to ride up on top, too.

There's only two things agin' it.

First place, company rules don't allow it,

and the second place, it gets pretty crowded

up there with three.

Maybe this will help you accommodate me, Mr. Courtland.

Anything you say, Mr...

Culpepper's the name, Joseph Culpeper,

Journalist for The Atlantic Monthly.

Yes, sir, Mr. Culpepper.

Well, you got a nice view from up here.

Get a lot of everything else, too...

Dust, sun, rain... when it rains.

You don't talk much, do you, Mr. Mason?

I don't recollect I gave you my name.

I asked Mr. Courtland.

I'm a writer, you know?

Writer's got to ask questions,

or he doesn't get much information.

Mind if I ask you a few questions?

What kind of questions?

Well, for one, I'm curious to know why a man

like yourself would choose

to be a stagecoach guard.

CHARLEY: We call it ridin' shotgun.

Ridin' shotgun.

Now, that's an interesting way of putting it.

Would you say that it was your interest

or knowledge of guns that

would make you choose a job such as this?

Why do you say that?

We'll, I was just asking,

trying to get you to talk,

trying to get information.

Oh, I guess I know about guns all right.

JIM: I bet you got a lot of interesting stories

to tell, huh?

Give him a chance.

This is only his third trip.

You know, there's one thing I've learned

about the West,

that each area has its own outlaws.

Now, in this area, it seems to be the Bostwick Family.

What about the Bostwicks?

I understand they're as tough as they come.

I'd like to do a story on them,

but I can't get any information.

Nobody's seems wanna talk about them.

We're coming in to Navajo Canyon.

Better get this writer fella down below.

Why do you want me down below?

If we're gonna get held up,

Navajo Canyon's the most likely place.

You'll be safer sitting with the other passengers.

And miss all this excitement?

No, thank you. I'll stay here.

He's gonna be in my way.

He's right, Mr. Culpepper.

If we get held up, it's likely to get

kind of rough up here.

You could get your neck broke, mister.

Well, I think I'll stay, if you don't mind.

All right. It's your neck.

Whoa! Ho!

That's all there is to it.

If anybody's gonna hit us now,

it won't be till nightfall.

Well, I'll get down inside and make more room.

Gee.

COURTLAND: Hah! Hah!

Giddup in there!

Hyah!

Come on, fellas!

I'll take them through the gap. Right.

Soon as we round that bend up there,

I'm gonna jump.

Close this door after me.

Yes, Mr. Culpepper.

Hey! Giddup in there! Gee over!

Giddup!

TOM: Hold your fire!

Everybody out!

Throw me the money box, son.

I won't do it, Pa.

You'll do what I tell you, son.

You ain't gonna shoot.

You know you ain't.

So you just put down your gun

and toss us the money, and we'll be on our way.

I'll kill the first one tries to get it.

You hear that, Pa?

He acts like his name's really Mason.

Oh, come on, Charley boy,

you're name's Bostwick. You're one of us.

Hand us the money.

I ain't gonna do it, Pa.

Come on, you can give it to me.

All right, Charley boy,

you just cock that gun of yours and get it ready,

and let's see if you'll shoot me.

He'll shoot you for sure,

and I wouldn't blame him.

SHORTY: Pa, whose side are you on?

TOM: Leave it to me.

Give him the box. Let them go.

Hey, this is your pa talking, Charley.

This is your old man talking to you.

You ain't gonna shoot your pa now, are you?

I'll shoot you, Pa.

I swear I will.

Shut up!

What's in that box, Charley?

All it is is a little money.

It don't even belong to you.

I'll shoot to kill, I'm warnin' you!

He's right, Charley.

I give up! Don't shoot!

Mr. Hardie, there's something pesters me.

What's that?

You didn't trust me.

You didn't think I'd gun my folks, did you?

Yes, I did.

As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure you would.

I told them.

I told them I'd kill them.

They didn't believe I'd do it.

Yeah, but I believe if you'd have

killed your father, maybe both your brothers,

might've had a hard time living with it

for the rest of your life.

Yes, I guess I would have.

That's why you cut in?

Yes, it was.

Well now that you know who I am,

you gonna fire me?

No.

No, you've got a job with Wells Fargo

as long as you want it,

long as you take care of it.

Maybe we can even find one

where you don't have to tote a gun.

If you're ever in San Francisco, look me up.

I'll sure do it.

And good luck to both of you.

Mr. Hardie.

Yes?

Thank you.

JIM: He was sure to find something better to do

than toting a gun,

and he was bound to go a long way

living up to the love and trust that she had in him.