Original subtitles

Good evening, amigos.

I fear the day of the illiterate swordsman has passed.

They seem to be spending so much time writing that they are neglecting their

really important work, skewering opponents.

It's a very unhealthy state of affairs.

Take this gentleman, for example. Listen.

He couldn't possibly win a duel.

Yet he can write 60 words a minute.

Now here is someone who can neither duel nor write, but can speak volumes

and insists on doing so.

early today, Mr. Fleming. Yeah, I took about a hundred yard walk into the woods

with my young friend here, shot the lid off a can and decided I needed a drink.

Smartest decision I made this year.

Otto, I'd like a bourbon sour, one of those triple action specials did you so

well. What about you?

The same, please.

Oh, boy.

What time did I stop drinking last night?

I'm not sure.

You... Left here at 2 in the morning, but you were carrying a full bottle by

neck.

Did I, uh... Did I talk a lot?

Let's just say that you talked.

Well, I don't see why I should be bending your ear with my troubles.

Sandy, I only met you yesterday.

It was about her, wasn't it?

My wife.

Yeah, she...

You talked about her quite a bit, but that wasn't topic A.

You kept saying that you wanted to kill a man.

I mean, you went to some length about it.

Did I?

I told you about my wife, how she cheats on me. She makes up to every man she

meets except her own husband.

Well, you were fairly graphic about it, Bill. I can't say that you...

Skipped many details.

You know, I'm thinking about it academically.

Academically in a moose's eye. I must have had a hole in my head the size of

apple the day I married her.

Cute little freewheeling 22 -year -old cupcake and me just past 50 Saturday

before.

Sure, I could kill Baxter if you really, really want to know.

Thank you, Alex.

Thank you.

Look,

it's none of my business, but why this exclusive grievance against Baxter? From

what you've told me, he's not exactly the only one.

Well, let's say he's the reigning favorite and the only one in the pack

used to consider a friend.

That makes a difference, you know.

A man my age and two of them carrying on like monkeys.

Of course I could kill him. The only trouble is he won't fight.

Well, that would never do at all. I mean, your fists would be considered

weapons in a court of law.

You were a professional fighter once.

How did you know that?

I read an article about you just a few weeks ago in Huntington Sportsman's

Annual.

Why try to shrug it off, Bill? Look, I was... I was as impressed as the

Let me give you the simple rundown as they had it in the magazine.

Bill Fleming, ex -lumberjack, professional pride fighter, prospector,

lumber tycoon, and millionaire.

Not necessarily in that order. Well, look here to you, I won't pretend I

impressed. Go ahead and enjoy yourself.

Adam, how about a refill? I was ahead of you this time, Mr. Fleming.

I'm not sure you got that.

Now, just what is that supposed to be?

It's for plucking olives from martinis, Bill.

No self -respecting saloon would be without one.

No.

I was thinking of that same article I read. It said that you've managed to put

together the finest private collection of dueling weapons in California.

That's just icing on the cake, you know, a wig for a bald personality, if you

get what I mean.

I was collecting this stuff because I was trying to keep that popular

legend still alive, you know. The house is hung with them like cooked spaghetti.

They dangle everywhere.

Believe me right now, I wouldn't trade you a good fish knife for the whole lot

of them.

I was trying to be somebody or something that I never am going to be.

But that Baxter... Cocky rooster.

Never worked a day in his life, never fought his way out of a paper towel.

He didn't need a phony prop like that.

There he is with Laura now, in my house.

The two of them.

as cozy as lice in a locket.

Bill?

Did you ever think of... Did you ever think of challenging

Baxter to a duel?

What? I know this sounds...

Because as I said before, I'm only, you know, I'm only speaking academically.

Academically, I've learned, you know, since I've been talking to you smart

fellas, it means you're wrapping a bomb in a package that'll look like two

pounds of fudge.

All right, let's just say then that the whole thing, you know, fascinates me.

Why? Well, you talked last night and again today how you'd like to kill this

Baxter and, in a technical sense, you know, not murder him.

Am I close to the truth?

Close to it. You're sitting right on top of it. As much as I hate Baxter, I like

the gas chamber even less.

All I want to do is belt him in the mouth about three times, wring his neck,

then throw him through a tightly locked window.

Bill, you're a throwback to the days of the old Wild West, but for an ex

-professional fighter, I'm afraid that wouldn't be the most strategic approach.

As I told you before, I'll be taking my bar examination in the spring, so I'm

more fascinated by the legal than the personal aspects of your situation.

What's dueling got to do with it? I'm getting to that.

I'm trying to tell you that under California law, they still grant special

consideration to anyone who damages or, for that matter,

kills. Another person in a duel.

You see, there are all sorts of odd provisions remaining on the statutes

the days of Spanish rule.

Do you know that? I don't know my left ear from Yosemite National Park, but it

doesn't mean I'm not willing to learn.

Well, actually, what I'm talking about is pretty well covered in Section 33478

of the Civil Code.

You see, it still remains in the minds of most of us that a duel, represents an

affair of honor, so that the conditions in your own case, they couldn't be

better. I mean, you said before that your... You've said before that your

affair with Baxter is on what... what you might somewhat call a

semi -public scale, haven't you?

You mean they've done everything but sell tickets?

Yeah. And that, plus the fact that... Baxter was, for a brief time, one of

closest friends.

Oh, listen.

I can tell you this right now. The average jury would vote you three cheers

a bottle of your favorite brandy if you killed Baxter in a duel.

If I were able to represent you, I could guarantee an acquittal.

Not that we're...

No, not that we're talking seriously, of course. We're not only speculating.

No, no, no, hold on a minute. I want to think.

Now, it's ridiculous. It never worked. A man who won't fight with his hands

hasn't much belly for any other things.

There's no gangster.

I'd go down there and he'd just stand and smile at me. He'd say, hello, Bill,

help yourself.

Make me feel like an assassin or an idiot.

A man can be made to fight with a sword.

Not Baxter.

You don't know Baxter. Any man, Bill.

If you goad him enough.

Dick him enough.

Keep it up is what I mean until, well, if he has a weapon at hand, he's going

defend himself. Any kind of a creature will fight under certain circumstances.

saint, a worm, or... Oh, you're Mr. Baxter.

How academic would you like me to be?

You live in California, don't you?

Oh, sure.

Just across the border, about 300 miles from here. And a country like this,

isn't it? Yeah, big.

Stick of pig. Nobody would ever hear him holler.

You want a drink?

You want another drink?

No.

No, I don't think so.

I... Can't afford to get drunk today.

Why back so soon?

Wasn't the hunting any good up there?

The hunting was lousy up there.

But I think it's going to get better from now on.

Get up on your feet.

Come on now.

Let's not spoil a pleasant evening, old boy.

Are you drunk, dear?

Drunk as usual.

Not as usual.

This time a little differently.

Something new has been added.

Drunk or sober, dear, no man can impersonate the three musketeers by

This is not going to be a solo performance.

I repeat my invitation.

Get up on your feet.

What's this supposed to be? A parlor game to end all parlor games.

I'm going to kill you.

Oh, sure, Bill. Yes, Bill.

Do you mind if I finish my martini first?

You know, it's pretty strong for tip -top, isn't it? Get up, Baxter. Get up.

Honestly, Bill.

Laura, I think maybe you better fix our boy a nice soothing drink or else help

him get his head under the shower.

Now, look, Bill, all jokes aside now, fun is fun. Yeah, so they tell me,

especially when the husband's away.

If you had the guts of a mouse, you'd pick up that saber and not make me stick

you like a side of beef.

You know something? He could be just foolish enough to believe this.

I don't want to spoil anybody's party, but maybe you better just call the cop.

Stop it!

Are you out of your mind?

Maybe I am. Maybe I am just enough to get this job done right. Stop it!

Bill, listen.

Laura. Laura, talk to him.

I don't think he's fooling.

I don't think he's fooling at all.

They're only skin wounds.

You're just as healthy as I am and you know as much about swords as I do.

Anybody does. Now pick it up and fight.

Can't we talk about it, Bill?

Talk about what? You're better off fighting than you are bleeding to death.

I'm going to stick you again.

Oh, no, you don't.

Stand up and fight.

I kind of figured you'd be here.

What happened to you?

Nothing much happened to me. I killed a man, that's all. I figured you boys

would be entitled to know.

You killed a man, huh?

I don't believe that.

You're not drunk, are you, Bill?

I'm not drunk at all. I just killed a man in a duel.

In a duel.

Now I know you're drunk.

Look, this happens to be 19... 1900 and Doomsday, especially for Phil Baxter.

I ran a favor through his belly about 20 minutes ago.

Baxter?

You mean you came back here early from... Go ahead, stay a day and don't

about my feelings.

I came back early and I found him with Laura.

Well, not a surprise to you, is it? I mean, it wasn't any secret, was it?

No, Bill, I guess not.

As a matter of fact, I don't think anybody would blame you too much.

I was a cop. I shouldn't be saying that.

As a friend, well, there isn't much I can do except call the chief and get him

out of bed. I know, Dan. It's your job.

A saber, Bill?

Well, you can bet it wasn't a scout knife. You've seen that stuff I have up

the house.

Baxter, did he have a chance?

He had a saber.

You had the same chance I had, man.

Wouldn't you say?

Well, like I said, I got to call the chief and the coroner. They don't want

go out to your house right away.

One other thing about your wife. Is she all right?

Depends what you call all right.

If you mean did I do anything to her, the answer is no.

Maybe I should have. Maybe I even wanted to. But I've never been any good with

women. The chief is never going to believe this, I'm telling you. After all

times you, me, and him went fishing together.

Oh, another thing, Bill, a friendly tip.

Might be smart to call your lawyer on that other phone before you do any more

talking to me or anybody else.

I got you.

Chief Brewster, please.

Well, I don't pretend to make any excuse for what happened. If I told you I had

any noble motive other than satisfying my anger and my humiliation, I'd be

lying. It's, well...

Just a case of I came home that night when they didn't expect me. I found the

two of them together, and what happened after that I've told you time and again.

How long had you known Philip Baxter?

Well, not too long, about a year and a half. I didn't know much about his

affairs, and there was a time there when I considered him a pretty close friend.

And then I began to hear things, and I realized that it wasn't any secret to a

lot of people that...

My wife and Baxter were carrying on together.

All I wanted to do was punch his nose or break his neck.

Did you attempt to punch Philip Baxter the night he was killed?

No, sir.

Why not?

Well, nothing would have pleased him more.

See, I was a professional fighter in my younger days, and, well, I outweighed

him 40 pounds.

How do you believe it would have pleased him if you had hit him?

Well, the same way it would please little guys that don't weigh more than a

of wet socks that used to throw punches at Jack Dempsey, just in the hopes that

the champ would clobber them one and they could drag him into court.

See, Baxter knew I had money, and he wanted that as much as he wanted my

I see.

Now, Mr.

Fleming, I must ask you again.

If, in this duel you fought with him, Philip Baxter was equally armed,

Baxter had exactly the same weapon I did.

Thank you.

You know, it's good to have real friends. Mr. Fleming? Yes?

Mr. Fleming, the judge would like to see you inside with Mr. Faber. Now?

Now, if you don't mind, sir.

Sit down.

Now, frankly, gentlemen...

I feel that this jury, sentimental as their approach might have been, was

entitled to return a verdict if not guilty.

I think that my instructions to them reflected my own feelings.

You agree, George?

Oh, completely, sir.

Good. Then we'll get on to the matter at hand.

Now, just as Bill was the beneficiary of the liberal provisions of the Civil

Code in reference to duels, I feel that I must in all conscience give due

consideration to another provision of Section 33478.

And I'll quote.

If any person slays or permanently disables another person in a duel in

state, the person must provide for the widow or wife of the person slain or

permanently disabled and for the children in such a manner and at such a

either by aggregate compensation and damages to each or by a monthly,

or annual allowance to be determined by the court.

Now, having anticipated this, I can tell you both that the deceased Philip

Baxter was a widower.

But he is survived by a son.

Now, bearing in mind the substantial wealth of the successful duelist, I've

already decided to award the son an aggregate compensation in the amount of

,000, plus a monthly allowance of $1 ,000 per month for life.

Well, isn't that terribly steep?

For a man's life?

What do you think, Bill?

To be rid of Baxter and a free man myself?

It's cheap at half the price.

I'll go in with you, Bill. No, never mind.

Just going to throw a few things in the bag. You can drive me back to that

hotel.

I'm not sure if I heard someone, darling.

Music is so loud.

Hello dear.

Welcome.

I thought I heard you stumbling around outside.

Can I make you a drink?

We have company.

You expect me to be surprised?

Yes dear.

Well, naturally, I never mentioned to you before that I was Philip Baxter,

Jr. After all, that would have spoiled the fun.

My feeling is that, well, we should put the past behind us, Bill.

Well, since I'm going to be your guest for the next 50 years or so, well, would

you mind if I called your dad?

This is not quite the end of our story.

One duel later, Junior was dead and Fleming was in prison.

I believe I see a very rich and pompous landowner approaching with another

one -minute proclamation.

I shall return anon.

I'm quite excited.

I have here the very latest model.

It has tremendous commercial possibilities.

You see, this one writes underwater.

Now, if we can just get the bankers to approve.

Next week, we shall be back with another story.

Until then, good night.