Original subtitles

THE OLD RANGER: And now,Death Valley Days.

♪♪ [ trumpet ]

Howdy, folks.

I'’m the Old Ranger,

and I have another interesting true story for you

about the historic Death Valley country.

This is the story of a young man

who went west to search for gold in the earth of Nevada,

and found it instead in a fame

that extended around the world.

When all his mining ventures had failed,

he took a job as a reporter

on the Virginia City Enterprise,

where he first used the pen name

destined for greatness, Mark Twain.

But more than his name was born there.

Virginia City gave Mark Twain

a rugged frontier style of humor

that almost ended his career the year after it began.

I call the story...

OLD RANGER: It is the spring of 1864,

and the country is engaged in civil war.

The Virginia City Sanitary Fund Commission

is raising money for the 100,000 soldiers

lying wounded in hospitals.

Mark Twain, already the most popular humorist

of the Comstock Country, is right in there pitching.

[ cheering ]Quiet. Quiet, please.

For once...

I'’m gonna let an editor

from a rival paper give you a piece of news.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the man

who has christened this flour sack cavalcade

"The Army of the Lord",

Mr. Mark Twain, of the Territorial Enterprise.

[ cheering ]

Thank you, Tom Fitch, of the Virginia Daily Union.

Friends, I got a powerful lot of words inside of me.

You sure have, Mark.

Lots of them you can'’t use here.

[ laughing ]

But I'’m gonna save them for my column in the Enterprise,

because this is a time to give it to you short and sweet.

The rival armies of General Grant

and General Lee are converging on Richmond.

And with every step, soldiers are bleeding

with a thousand wounds.

But that'’s why we're here.

Because boys in blue and boys in gray need bandages

and condensed milk and beefsteak.

And we mean to give them what they need.

[ cheering ]

This handsome young Southerner,

Mr. Reuel Gridley, had to carry this sack

through the streets of Austin

because he lost an election bet.

When he got through, he put it up for auction

and the town paid $3,500 for it.

Then he took it to Silver City in Dayton

and raised $4,000 more.

And our neighbors at Gold Hill

put up $7,000.

Now, what'’s Virginia City going to do?

Cover the entire amount.

[ cheering ]

My sentiments exactly.

Now who'’ll make the first bid?

25!15!

[ all bidding ]

Wait a minute, let'’s have one at a time.

The staff of the Territorial Enterprise

bids $150.

Sold to the Enterprise for $150.

[ cheering ]

Who'’ll buy next?

The employees of the Daily Union

bid $300.

[ cheering ]

Sold to the Union for $300.

He'’s trying to show us up.

Papa, it was Gantz who made that bid.

I know his voice.I'’m proud of your lad.

But I'’m going to outdo him.

I bid $500!

Sold to Tom Cochran for $500.

[ cheering ]All right, who'’ll make the next bid?

Speak up, the next bid.

Hello, Jean. Mr. Cochran.

Gantz. I heard your bid.

I guess we showed up the Enterprise,huh?

I'’m going over there to give Mark Twain

a news item as soon as this is over.

You mean you'’d actually give news to a paper

that'’s our bitter rival?

Better keep an eye on her, Gantz.

Could be she just wants an excuse to talk to Mark Twain.

[ chuckles ]Oh, Papa.

Why would you want to talk to that big liar?

Liar?Well, isn'’t he?

Writing silly hoaxes about a petrified man that never existed,

and a terrible massacre that never happened.

He was being funny.

Funniest stuff I ever read in my life.

[ chuckling ]

I guess a mere cub reporter

doesn'’t cut any ice around here.

If you'’re talking about this cub,

he just happens to be the man I love.

Well, that'’s more like it.

Joe Goodman'’s gonna be mighty sore

if he finds out we spent most of our time

selling flour instead of getting out that paper.

My heaven, if Goodman doesn'’t get back here

and take his job off my neck,

my brains are gonna blow out.

Every night it'’s think, worry, and suffer

trying to fill an editorial column.

[ laughs ]

How about an editorial, Governor?

You got it ready?You chuckle-headed jokist.

You know I haven'’t even thought of a subject.

You better get out the encyclopedia

and shoot it to me fast.

Hey.[ laughing ]

There wasn'’t anybody in the outer office.

Come in.

I brought a little news item, Mr. Twain.

It'’s about the Carson City Fancy Dress Ball.

The ladies of Carson are putting it on

for the Sanitary Fund.

You'’re the Virginia City correspondent?

Oh, no, nothing so impressive.

But my aunt is on the committee

and she was hoping a lot of people

from Virginia City might drive down.

Are you going to be there?

Oh, yes. Are you?

I mean, I know my aunt would be very thrilled

if you could come.

Well, now.

Seems to me it'’s in my line of duty as a newspaperman

to cover such an important occasion.

Oh, Mr. Twain, would you?You can count on it.

♪♪ [ "Blue Danube Waltz" by Strauss ][ indistinct chatter ]

♪♪

♪♪

GANTZ: Darling, you'’re the most beautiful girl at the ball.

♪♪

I would'’ve coughed discreetly,

but I didn'’t want to spoil anything so obviously enjoyable.

I hope you won'’t write it up in your column.

You won'’t find a word under my byline.

Mr. Twain, there'’s something I'’ve been dying to know.

How did you come to choose your pen name?

That goes back to the days when I was a pilot

on the Mississippi River.

It'’s a leadman's call.

All through the night you can hear him shout,

"Mark Twain! Mark Twain!"

What does it mean?Two fathom.

It was always a pleasant sound

for a pilot to hear on a dark night.

It meant safe waters.

I like the sound of it. So rich and strong.

Well, my boss sent me down here to Carson

to cover the meetings of the legislature.

I figured if I was going to be such a high muck-amuck

I better have a name people could remember.

I'’ll always remember it.

Come on, Jean, let'’s dance.

♪♪ [ fades out ]

A sucker, that'’s what I am.

What'’s the trouble, Mark?

You'’re still sweating it out in the encyclopedia?

A square-headed sucker,

letting Goodman get away with it.

Having himself a time in San Francisco

while I exhaust my brain fibers

writing editorials for him.

Why don'’t you attack somebody

and get the paper into trouble?

That'’ll bring him back.

Serve him right if I did.

Now I have reached the end of my strength.

Who took it?

Took what?My candle!

Steve?

Tag?I haven'’t set eyes on it.

Show me the shifty slumgullion that stole it

and I'’ll dust your jacket off with a horse whip.

Oh, calm down, Vesuvius. Here, you can take my lamp.

I can'’t abide the smoky, smelly things.

Just let me get my hands on the lunkhead

who expects me to write in the dark and I'’ll--

If you'’re so itchy for a fight

you could start one on a paper so hot

it would light up the whole office.

What'’re you talking about?

Remember the night the printers of the Union

outbid us for the flour sack?

Well, they'’ve repudiated their bid.

Haven'’t paid a penny.They haven'’t, huh?

And I can give you another little item.

The $3,000 the ladies of Carson raised

at their Fancy Dress Ball may never go to the fund.

The changeable little darlings

are thinking about using it for something else.

I'’ll take that lamp.

Now, just give me all the facts

and I'’ll write an editorial

that will scorch the paper it'’s written on.

Steve, you first.Well, as I heard it, it was like this...

[ gasps ]

[ laughing ]What is it?

Oh, that terrible Mark Twain.

Margaret, listen to this.

"It is stated that the money raised

"at the Sanitary Fancy Dress Ball

"recently held in Carson has been diverted

"from it'’s legitimate course and is to be sent

"to a miscegenation society somewhere in the East."

[ laughing ][ groans ]

Tom Cochran, I want you

to go out and horse whip that man.

[ laughing ]Let me see that paper.

Well, the man'’s joking.

He says right here that this is a hoax.

But not all hoax, he says.

"For an effort is being made

"to divert those funds from their proper course."

I'’ll take it up with my committee.

We'’ll send a letter to the paper,

and we'’ll get this impossible Mark Twain fired.

Mr. Laird, have you seen today'’s Enterprise?

No, what'’s our rival up to now?Listen to this.

"How is it the Union overbid us for the flour,

"and now, we are told, has repudiated the bid?

"We would like to know about this matter

"if we may make so free."

Who dare write that?

Mark Twain. Who else?

Well, this time he'’s gone too far.

Man, have you started something.

Have you seen today'’s Union?

No, what'’re they saying?

You sure stirred up a hornet'’s nest, Mark.

Listen to what they say about us.

"Last year, the Enterpriseitself

"appeared for a long time

"on the Sanitary Fund delinquent list."

Listen to this.

"Now they'’re accusing us of delinquency

"with a string of despicable stuff

"knotted so full of lies that there was not left a space sufficient

"for the smallest thread of truth."

"Never before have we found an opponent

"who conveyed in every word such a groveling disregard

"for truth, decency, and courtesy

"as to seem to court the distinction

"of being understood as a vulgar liar."

You see that? Jim Laird calls me a liar.

Here'’s another squib that says you'’re

an unmitigated liar, a poltroon and a puppy.

Those are fighting words!

Yes, sir, that settles it.

This calls for blood.Blood?

Well, he'’s right, Mark.

You can'’t let Jim Laird insult you like this.

You'’ve got to demand a blood atonement.

Well, now, wait a minute. I fight with a pen, not a .44.

Oh, this fight'’s gone beyond that.

You can'’t let any man call you a liar,

a poltroon and a puppy and live.

No, sir, you can'’t. Not if you got

any red blood in your veins.

I got plenty of red blood in my veins.

And I want to keep it there.

Oh, Mark, look, this is your chance

to become a big man on the mountain.

Well, look at Joe Goodman.

He crippled Tom Fitch for life in a duel.

Look at me, I faced three men at 15 paces.

Wounded or killed them all.

Here'’s your chance to get a notch on your gun belt.

If you kill a man in a duel,

you'’ll be more looked up to

than as if you killed two men any other way.

I got no hankering to kill any man.

Besides, I can'’t hit the side of a barn.

I'’ll write another editorial.

You'’ll write a letter to Jim Laird.

I will?Unless you want to be disgraced

forever and ever.Well, no, but--

I'’ll help you write it.

You'’ll demand a public retraction of his insults,

or satisfaction on the field of honor.

And I'’ll deliver it to Jim Laird in person.

It'’s funny we haven't heard from Laird.

He won'’t fight me.

After that letter you wrote?You wrote.

He'’d have to be bloodless as a fish

to let that pass. [ knock on door ]

Maybe that'’s his answer.

I hope not.

Here you are, Mark. Messenger just brought it from the Union.

Well, go ahead. Read it.

It'’s not from Laird at all.

It'’s signed "J.W. Wilmington."

He claims he wrote that article.

Says he has nothing to retract.

Oh, probably some cub reporter.

That poltroon puppy squib was signed "Printer."

He must be the one.

Well, it'’s a sure thing Laird wrote the other one.

Of course he did. Furthermore, he'’s responsible for both of them.

You'’re right, he'’s the editor.

Look, we'’re not fooling around with any cub.

We want the top man.Right.

"Any further attempt to make a cat'’s paw

"of any other individual, and thus shirk

"the responsibility that you previously assumed

"will show that you are a cowardly sneak.

"I know parenterally demand of you

"the satisfaction to a gentleman

"without alternative."

Well, that ought to get him.

I'’ve sent for you, Gantz, because I have a favor to ask.

Anything at all I can do, Mrs. Cochran.

I know you'’re very loyal to your newspaper

and to Mr. Laird.Yes, ma'’am.

Gantz, I have a letter I want you to take to him.

A letter?Yes, and I want you

to put it into his hands personally.

Oh, it'’s something he'’ll be very glad to publish.

Well, I--

Gantz, I didn'’t know you were here.

I asked him to come on a little personal matter.

I'’ll be glad to give Mr. Laird the letter, Mrs. Cochran.

Oh, Mother, not the letter from the committee.

Why not? We'’ve sent it to the Enterprise

and had no response.

I intend to see that it'’s published in the Union.

I'’ll get it for you, Gantz.

And I expect you to keep your promise.

Gantz, you mustn'’t.

Mr. Twain is in enough trouble already

with this feud between the papers.

Just why are you so concerned about him?

Because I'’m sure it'’s all a misunderstanding.

He was only joking.

Then he'’s carried his joke pretty far.

Today he challenged Mr. Laird to a duel.

Oh, no.

Is Mr. Laird going to accept?

Well, if he won'’t, I know a half a dozen men

on the Unionwho will, including me.

I just hope I'’m the one that gets a chance at him.

Gantz, you can'’t have a duel with Mark Twain.

You'’re a terrific shot, you might kill him.

That'’s the general idea.

Why, you hot-headed fool.

I'’m a fool, all right.

Imagining you were in love with me.

But that'’s a mistake I won'’t make again.

If you'’re so mad about Mark Twain

go get yourself engaged to him.

Maybe you'’ll have the pleasure of burying him.

I know Mr. Laird will publish the letter

and make something dreadful of it.

He already has.

One of my men got it right off the press.

"The Enterpriselibel of the ladies of Carson--"

[ gasps ] Oh, Mr. Twain.

Even though you meant it as a joke,

couldn'’t you just apologize

before it causes any more trouble?

As it happens, I wrote the chairman of the committee

an apology yesterday.

But I can'’t print a public apology just now.

You see, challenges have already passed

between me and Mr. Laird.

I know.

I had a fight with my fiancé over it,

and he broke our engagement.

He said the whole Unionstaff wants to shoot you.

MARK: If I'’ve done violence to your love life

I deserve to be shot.

Mr. Twain, please don'’t have a duel with Gantz.

I'’m awfully mad at him,

but I'’m terribly in love with him.

Don'’t you worry.

I don'’t intend to fight your Gantz,

or anybody except Jim Laird.

And just between us, I'’m counting on

keeping that fight on paper.

Tag, Steve, I got an answer from Laird!

Well, what does he say?

He won'’t fight, he's still hiding behind that printer.

"If you decline to meet him after challenging him,

"you will prove yourself to be

"what he charged you with being,

"a liar, a poltroon, and a puppy."

"And, as such, cannot be entitled

"to the consideration of a gentleman."

Trying to shield his craven carcass behind Wilmington

when he knows it'’s his own

scandalous editorial I challenged.

You can'’t let him get away with that.

The thing to do is to post him

as a coward in the morning Enterprise.

Well, now, just a darn minute.

We don'’t want to carry this thing too far.

Too far? After his libelous attack?

Mark, you'’ve got to uphold the honor of the paper.

Not necessarily, I don'’t claim to be a gentleman.

My family was in trade.

Then you'’re a yeoman, you'’re entitled to bear arms.

Come on, I'’ll help you write a challenge

that'’ll send him straight for his .44.

Here. Write.

Mark Twain has denounced me as an abject coward

in this morning'’s Enterprise.

I'’m going to have to fight or leave the country.

Tom, I'’ll sell you my one-third interest

in the Unionfor half it'’s value on credit,

if you'’ll assume responsibility

for my article and, uh, fight Mark Twain.

Well, can I buy you out and then apologize to Mark?

My partners won'’t stand for it.

Somebody'’s got to fight him or it'’ll ruin the paper.

Mark and I are personal friends.

TOM: I decline to shorten his young and beautiful life.

And I know he wouldn'’t want to be guilty

of, uh, my taking of.

No. I'’ll buy into your paper, Jim,

but I decline to buy into your fight.

Oh, dear.

Mark, it'’s way past midnight.

May as well give up, Tag.

Looks like there isn'’t gonna be any duel.

And a darned good thing, considering that new law

they just passed against it.

Aw, they'’ll never enforce that in this territory.

[ footsteps ]

Mark, it'’s here.

From Laird?

[ sighs ] Go ahead, man, open it.

Well, what does it say?

He'’s accepting my challenge.

He'’ll meet me at sunrise.

Borrowed this from a farmer down the road.

Make a good practice target.

Now, just figure that this rail is Laird.

He'’s about that skinny, and aim at the squash.

[ cackles ]

If there'’s any intellectual difference

between it and Laird'’s head it'’s in favor of the squash.

[ laughing ]

Mark?

Hey, Mark. What'’re you looking at?

I guess a man has a right to enjoy the scenery

when it'’s his last day on Earth.

[ groan ][ groan ]

Don'’t be pessimistic.

You'’ve got a good chance.

Come on, let'’s pace it.

One...two...three...

four...five...six...

seven...eight...nine...

10...11...12...

13...14...15.

Get out your Colt.

Why, it'’s barely daylight.

How do you expect me to hit that target?

It'’s as dark as the inside of a cow.

You know the rules.

At the count of one,

you start raising your gun slowly.

"One...two...three...

"fire...stop."

On the word "stop," you fire.

But not sooner.

Now, go ahead.

One...two...three...

fire...stop!

[ gunshot ]

Now you advance and go on firing at your pleasure.

Pleasure? If I advance at my pleasure,

I'’d let out with my alpine foot over that ridge.

[ gunshots in distance ]What'’s that?

It'’s Laird. His seconds are rehearsing him over the ridge.

Hurry up, Mark, advance.

You'’re each allowed six shots.

You mean...

...Laird gets six shots at me?

Sure. Advance.

Come on, Mark.

[ gunshots ]

Well, you didn'’t hit the squash.

Didn'’t hit the rail, either.

What about the barn door?Oh.

No, there'’s not a bullet hole in it.

Not even a nick.

I'’m a dead man.

TAG: I promise you one thing, Mark.

If worse comes to worse, we'’ll give you a fine obituary.

Give me the gun.What'’s the idea?

A mud hen.[ gunshot ]

I got it.

[ whistles ]

Here, Mark, take the gun.

Here comes Laird'’s seconds.

Who shot the head off that mud hen?

My man, Mark Twain.

How far off was he?

Oh, about, uh... 30 paces?

Yeah?

Can he do that often?

Every time.

He could do it from twice that far.

We'’ll be back later.

[ giggling ]

He must be a terrific shot, sir.

Well, in that case, I won'’t fight him.

But you hit your target 13 times out of 18.

I don'’t care, I'm not gonna get up against that man.

[ chuckles ] Why, it'’d be murder.

Then I'’ll fight him.

Go ahead, fight him.

[ chuckles ] If you want to be killed.

I am getting out of town.

JEAN: Gantz!

Thank heaven, I found you.

What did you come here for?

To save Mark Twain?

I came to save you, although I can'’t imagine why.

You'’re almost as stupid as I am for being madly in love with you.

Well, Mark, now that your expert shooting

ended the duel, how do you feel?

Like I'’ve been drinking 100 yard red-eye

and been drug through a hole as big as Nelson'’s.

But mighty glad to be alive.

[ laughing ] BOY: Mr. Twain!

Sir? A message came to the office.

From the Governor.Governor?

It'’s the new law prohibiting dueling.

He said Judge Smith'’s got a warrant out for your arrest.

Smith? He'’s the one I wrote that comical article about, isn'’t he?

BOY: Yes, sir, and he'’s gonna make an example out of you.

The Governor suggests that if you don'’t want

to spend two years in the state prison,

you better get across that state line

before the warrant catches up with you.

You know, I just think I'’d better take

the Governor'’s suggestion.

And that'’s how it was that Mark Twain

walked the 15 paces that took him out of Virginia City,

and on up the road to fame.

A fame so international, that he became

the most widely-read humorist in the world.

♪♪ [trumpet]