Original subtitles

Mr. Britt Reid, please, this is Pat Allen at the office.

When you expect him, this is important.

Then can you try to reach him and have him call me back in the night line? I need his okay on something.

No, it can't wait till morning.

Look, I'm sitting on a hot story, and I have to have his permission to break it wide open.

Yeah, okay, I'll be right here.

Another challenge for the Green Hornet, his aide Kato and their rolling arsenal The Black Beauty.

On police records - a wanted criminal,

the Green Hornet is really Britt Reid,

owner publisher of the Daily Sentinel.

His dual identity known only to his secretary

and to the district attorney.

And now to protect the rights and lives of decent citizens rides the Green Hornet!

...during a stormy session in Council Chambers today City Councilman Bright assured the mayor special committee,

that he would vote against any increase in taxes this year.

And here's an additional note of the bizarre death of Daily Sentinel reporter Pat Allen.

The only witness, maintenance worker Mrs. Martha Crown, hospitalized by shock,

has shed no further light on the matter.

District attorney Scanlon and the police have theorized, that the leopard,

which escaped from the zoo only blocks from the Sentinel building,

was panicked by traffic and sought shelter in the building.

Meanwhile on the national scene today...

But how could the leopard have gotten to the city room 8 floors above the street,

and why would it kill Pat Allen?

That's something we have to find out.

How's Mike taking it?

Badly. He's in there now cleaning out Pat's desk.

What's that?

'On a huge walled estate near Danforth'.

All that's left of Pat Allen. The rejected lead line.

Shouldn't we say that for the police? What for?

They've already closed the file on this case.

'Accidental death' indeed.

When was the last time you saw a leopard accidentally wander into a city room and kill a reporter?

Easy Mike, we all feel as bad about this as you do.

I never had a son.

Pat Allen came as close to being that as anyone could.

He was really keyed up about that story he was working on. I wonder what it was?

Kato said when he...

Where that come from?

It fell out this package of cigarettes. They were Pat's.

What is it?

Looks like a miniaturised transmitter!

Type that are used in space capsules.

I told you, you can't, mister... I gotta tell him he's all wrong about this.

What's this all about, miss Case?

Well, I tried to stop him, Mr. Reid. So you're Mr. Reid.

Flora would never have done a thing like this.

Mr. Melvin is the leopard keeper at the zoo.

And I want to tell you that Flora couldn't have killed your reporter.

Couldn't? Well, she's 18 years old, Mr. Reid.

She's lost most of her teeth and her claws are worn down to nubs.

If she were still in the jungle, I don't think she'd be alive!

She was mighty lively last night.

Did you write this story? So /as if I did, why?/

I've lived with these animals all my life, and none of them would hurt anyone.

That's something poor Pat Allen might find hard to believe.

The boy was just starting a great career, and it went out that window with him.

Thanks to your leopard.

Oh, Mr. Reid? Mr. Reid.

Where will you be? At home.

I'll be back in about an hour.

I think you got a pretty tight case, captain. I'll send one of my deputies over in the morning.

Yes, I'll be waiting for your letter. Thank you.

Mr. Scanlon, here's the gemologist report. Thank you. Yeah, that's interesting,

that's very interesting.

I'll be gone for about an hour or so. Right.

You hadn't buzzed me, I would've called you.

There's one piece of evidence that I withheld from the press.

There was a good-sized diamond found on your reporters desk.

Diamond? Here's the gemologist report on it.

The stone is genuine all right,

it's worth between ten and fifteen thousand dollars.

Hmm.

That fits in?

With what? This!

A miniaturised transmitter.

I don't get it.

You will.

Now do you understand?

Should I?

Mr. Reid's residence.

It's Miss Case.

Thanks, Kato.

Yes, Miss Case.

According to the Humane Society there are 9 leopards in the area, and all accounted for last night.

Thanks. Something else, 3 years ago we did a feature on a gemologist Frank Miller.

/They/ got a copy and get it right to me?

Fine.

Miller? That's the name on this report.

He was working on a process to manufacture the perfect diamond.

The stone Pat had might be one of his.

But why?

Well, supposing Pat Allen stumbled onto something much bigger than he expected.

To cover,

someone using this, tuned to send out an ultra high-frequency tone,

and a leopard trained to respond to that tone and kill the nearest human to it.

That someone programmed Pat Allen to die.

Can you prove it?

No,

but the Green Hornet will.

Check the scanner, Kato.

Check. Stick to the backstreets, Kato.

I'll go in alone, Kato.

Don't move!

What do you want?

Do you know who I am?

The Green Hornet.

I'm here to make you a proposition.

What would you want with me? This.

How are you progressing with it?

I gave that up long ago. You are lying to me.

Please, please, if I perfected the process, would I be living like this?

You might

if you were waiting for the ideal plan to exploit it.

No.

I could flood the world diamond market with your perfect imitations.

I can make you millions.

Millions.

Billions.

Come with me.

This is the oven.

Fragments of worthless carbon, pieces of coal.

I expose them to the same heat they would experience close to the Earth's core.

Of course I prepare them chemically first,

and bring them singly refractive, a mark of the pure diamond.

/But these/ early stages of my scientific methodology. This is the final step.

Come closer.

This is the final step.

Fifty degrees below zero.

They're beautiful, aren't they?

Don't touch them.

Their extreme cold would rip the flesh from your hands.

I'll get you something, that you can handle them safely.

Let me get one for you.

There.

Isn't it beautiful?

Examine it, look at it.

Have a good look at it, examine it closely.

You alright? I'm okay. Did Miller get away? Yes.

Let's go.

Kato, activate the scanner generator.

Activated.

Scanner loft.

We got him, Kato.

Coordinates 2,

47,

and 19.

Let's go.

I've been here before as Britt Reid.

The widow of Vela de Lukens lives here. He was one of the wealthiest diamond merchants in the world.

/we witness with mine is right here I disagree now here somebody else has/

/gone away today/

Gentlemen,

please let's come to order.

May I begin this meeting by expressing my regrets to professor Miller.

I know it was a trying experience, but we hope well worth it.

And now for the business at hand.

First, let me read you a note from Jeremy Clark, our Far Eastern representative.

Just a short note to acknowledge your inquiry of June 2nd.

I will forward all requested information in the month...

What was that? Only a pet, gentlemen,

and also my burglar alarm.

And so by including professor Miller's diamonds in the shipments of my late husband's genuine merchandise

we can improve and increase profits

a thousandfold. Then there'll be enough

for all of us.

You told me you got rid of him.

I thought I had.

The honorable Mr. Miller.

Please, I was frightened.

No need to be,

now that we're partners.

I don't know of any such arrangement.

Five years ago I accepted the responsibility to manage my late dear husband's business.

It does very well, and it's quite legitimate.

Naturally,

but you cut me in or I cut you out.

And I want half.

And how do you propose to do that?

By informing the international diamond merchants association of your operation.

You know my terms, take them or leave them.

Gentlemen,

the Green Hornet leaves us little choice.

I'm afraid we must yield to his demands.

Let me go, you gorillas! I'm just off my evening stroll.

Now who is this man?

His name is Axford, he's a reporter for the Daily Sentinel.

The Green Hornet, hey? I should have known you were involved in this.

It seems your plan wasn't as secret as you thought it was.

Not by a long shot.

You don't go around killing reporters and get away with it.

Besides you left a trail a Cub Scout could follow.

Now really, Mr. Axford, you're being too modest.

If I start taking a keen investigator to uncover us.

How did you find us?

Easy.

Knowing the cops had closed the case I went to Pat Allen's apartment and shook it down real good.

And what did you find there?

A piece of paper in one of Pat's jackets hanging in the closet, and your name on it,

and the address of one of those electronics outfits.

They told me you bought quite a few of those transmitters.

Didn't take much guessing to figure out who planted one of them on Pat.

In any case, all this information is going to die with you, Mr. Axford.

Don't count on that, my boss Britt Reid is pretty clever.

If I can pick up the pieces, he sure can too.

That is a chance we'll have to take.

You kill a second reporter, you've got big trouble.

That's a chance I'd be pleased to take.

My first contribution to our partnership.

Why you... Let go!

You can't turn me over to the Green Hornet.

I don't mind dying, but if someone's got to kill me, let it be anyone but him.

We'll take him.

I'll be in touch, partners.

Nothing to concern ourselves about, gentlemen.

That partnership would be dissolved in a matter of moments. You see,

my young man planted one of those transmitters in Mr. Axford's pockets.

She's released the leopard.

Double-crossed, now isn't that beautiful, Wyatt?

You better make our stand here. That cat can outrun us.

Axford, come back!

Axford!

Axford!

Axford, the cat's after you!

Axford.

He'll be alright. He just got a whiff of the gas.

Let's get back to the house.

Time has come to end a beautiful partnership.

"Reporter Captures Fake Diamond Gang"

You're a 14-karat hero, Mike!

We're all very proud of you.

Hahaha, oh thanks.

But that blasted Green Hornet.

First, he knocks me out with the green gas, even though it saves my life.

Then, he leaves that gang tied off with me like a gift package!

Makes me wonder if he's as bad as I think he is.

Pretty confusing, isn't? I'll say it is.

Next thing you know, he'll be helping old ladies cross the street.