Original subtitles

Mr. Yuma?

Mr. Miner?

Jason Miner.

Good morning.

Still this warm beer.

Dave.

He's been working himself up to this for

a long while.

Well, we ain't gonna go hungry no more.

Yeah, he's through taking the food out of

our mouths.

I'll stand for a round of drinks.

And I'll drink the whole round.

Lorena, this is a dancing Dave for Dead

Oak.

Mr. Miner always treated me nice.

We owe some citizen a vote of thanks.

Are you the one who done it, son?

What's the matter with you people?

You're talking about a murder.

Murder?

Oh, I wouldn't come to any fast conclusion,

son.

No, sir.

Sure, looks like Jason killed himself in cold

blood.

In the back?

It was a suicide, mister.

That's what it was.

Plain suicide.

Johnny Yuma was a rebel.

He rode through the west.

Dead Johnny Yuma wandered alone.

Johnny Yuma.

Excuse me, I was told the sheriff's in

there.

He's in 18 with Mr. Spencer Scott.

What was that?

C.

Spencer Scott, the Earl of Durango.

Come in.

Anybody here?

Yep.

Where?

Here.

Hi.

Hi.

What do you want, Slim?

Sheriff hereabouts?

Thereabouts.

Nice.

Can't go in.

He's with the Earl.

Is he making an arrest?

Nope.

Then I can't wait.

Too bad, Slim.

Too bad.

Safer at Gettysburg.

I need to talk.

My dear young fellow, you seem totally unaware

that you're interrupting something which is infinitely more

important than your own immediate needs.

Oh, what's that?

Darts.

Darts?

Quite.

Now, if you don't mind.

Well, I'm sorry, but I...

Oh, I'm sorry, too.

Otis?

Drift.

Now, wait a minute.

All I want...

Go on, rib.

You ain't got long to jabber.

Sheriff.

I'm sorry, cowboy.

This is my lunch hour.

Get off,

creepy.

Well, now, ain't this a kick in the

shanks?

Creepy, huh?

And you got to be taught my name's

Odie.

Now, now, gentlemen.

Forgive my interruption, but I think my antiques

would suffer far more than either one of

you.

Besides, for the nonce Otis, I think you've

met your match.

I'll bet your majesty.

Now, young fellow, since you burst into my

sweep with such byronic bravado, what did you

want to see me about?

Well, I hope this doesn't stun you too

much, but it's him I want to see.

Excuse me.

You are the sheriff, aren't you?

Sorry, kid.

This is my lunch hour.

Hungry?

You want to see me about something?

Can you wait?

That's up to you.

Look, my name's Yuma, Johnny Yuma.

I want to report a murder in Dead

Oak.

A man named Jason Minor was shotgunned in

the back.

Dead Oak?

He's got himself a sheriff there.

You tell him, Ennard.

I don't know why, but the whole town's

covering it up.

Calling it a suicide.

Sheriff's in it with him.

Well, how about it, Sheriff?

I told you, kid.

This is my lunch hour.

Besides, Dead Oak is out of my territory.

How about you, Daryl?

Huh?

Maybe this one's for you, Donnard.

Maybe.

Doesn't look like any star pack to me.

You know, I have a quivering suspicion you

haven't the remotest idea who I am.

That's a pretty good quiver.

Who are you?

C.

Spencer Scott.

The most prolific writer of lucrative mystery thrillers

of the American West.

Not a very flattering likeness, is it?

Sorry, never heard of you.

Don't read junk.

Junk?

Quite.

But then I'll wage you never read the

philosophical works I wrote in England.

Nope.

I authored a number of texts, all widely

acclaimed but narrowly circulated.

Do you follow me?

I doubt it.

He looks denser than a loblolly pine thicket

to me.

Otis.

Consequently, I decided to become commercial.

Simultaneously, lowering my literary but raising my living

standards.

Besides, it's a lot more fun.

Your pet hound, where does he fit in?

Otis Rump, my associate.

A man with many redeeming qualities necessary to

our continued existence.

A gunny, huh?

Oh, no, nothing so cruel.

But there have been, uh, incidents, haven't there?

Now tell me, Mr, uh, Yuma, isn't it?

Yo.

How do you fit into this murder?

Jason Miner hired me to be his bodyguard.

You did a stunningly rotten job, didn't you?

He got killed before I started to work.

He sent me a ten dollar advance, I

figure I owe him something.

Oh, then you feel obligated to return and

avenge the death of your erstwhile employer.

Looks like all I can do now is

write the district marshal and then camp in

Dead Oak until he gets there.

Thanks for nothing, Sheriff.

That's all right, kid.

You know, life's yours.

Oh, Mr. Yuma, perhaps Otis and I'll jog

along.

A whole town in a conspiracy of silence,

it might make an explosive little book.

Besides, I think that you and I'd be

of great assistance, don't you, Otis?

Oh, I do, sir.

I've lived a long time without it.

Without what?

Your assistance.

Adios.

This town's lived a long time without you.

I know, I know.

You're back looking for trouble.

No, I just want to buy a few

supplies.

Mr. Miner always treated me real nice.

This has been a nice, quiet town, and

that's the way it's going to stay.

What in blazes you think you're doing?

That bell ain't no plaything.

You're quite right, Sheriff.

It tolls the sound of murder, and it

tolls for thee.

I am C.

Spencer Scott, the fourth Earl of Devonshire, now

ignobly referred to as the Earl of Durango.

I ain't never heard of you.

I've heard of him.

He writes mystery stories.

I'm among you for the purpose of gathering

material for a book on your late, lamented

friend, Jason Miner.

Mr. Miner always treated me nice.

Is that so?

During the course of this literary exercise, I

shall undoubtedly discover the murderer.

Your cooperation, or lack of it, will be

faithfully recorded.

What'd he say?

He said somebody's going to end up in

the pokies.

How'd he find out about Jason?

Who cares?

He ain't nothing but a gasbag.

Nah, he's all chin.

It seems to me that the whole populace

of Dead Oak is amply provided with chin.

However, in repudiation of your rash accusations, I

think a small demonstration would be in order.

Don't you agree, Otis?

Oh, I do, sir.

If you'll kind of step back there, folks.

We hate to have more than one body

in the street at a time.

Kind of step back there.

That's it.

Thank you.

Thank you very much.

All right, folks.

That'll be fine.

That should suffice for the moment.

Let's have a meeting.

Good show, Yuma.

Good show.

A fitting overture for the drama that's bound

to occur.

Spencer, be a good Earl.

Wait for the marshal.

Be reasonable, Mr. Yuma.

Be reasonable.

What sort of dreary little book would I

be left with if I allowed some colorless,

mule-faced marshal to lumber through its pages

solving the crime?

This way I have excitement.

I have vitality.

I have, ooh, passion.

Excuse me, please.

So it is.

Otis!

I mean, Odie.

Can I ask you something?

Why not?

What would you care for, my dear?

Champagne, naturally.

Champagne for the lady.

I'll take brandy.

Yes, sir.

What do you want to ask?

What do you follow him around for?

Now, Reb, I'll tell you.

Now, I misspent my youth getting saddle sores

on somebody else's cattle ride.

I spent two years at $20 a month

as a Texas Ranger and two years shooting

people I wasn't mad at during the war.

Now, you put it all together, and I

figure I don't have such a bad break

with the Earl.

Besides that, I kind of admire him.

Besides that, he saved my hide once.

Amazing to find such glittering beauty in such

drab surroundings.

You're going right over my head.

In my own light-hearted way, I was

merely trying to express my admiration.

I know what you admire.

You scratch her, Earl, you still find a

man.

I got a stage to catch.

Give it to me in a nutshell.

What is it you want to know?

All right.

Who killed Jason Miner?

Jason killed himself.

We got witnesses.

Me, him, and him.

We were all there.

There are papers filed in the county courthouse

swearing to suicide.

And this young man's prepared to testify in

a court of law that you're mouthing falsehoods.

Well, let him talk.

Let him talk his mouth off.

There ain't no body.

There was a body.

It fell in the swamp when we was

trained to bury it.

Leave it alone, fellas.

Everybody in town hated Jason.

Mr. Miner always paid me for the work

I'd done.

That file in his office is busted with

our notes and mortgages.

Miner left us poorer than skim milk.

So don't be muley-headed, mister.

Stay out of it.

There you will, sir.

Gentlemen, I think it's only sporting to warn

you that I intend to pursue my investigation.

I shall unmask the murderer, and with Mr.

Yuma's testimony, I will secure a conviction.

Well, folks, let's go outside and have a

meeting.

Oh.

Oh, yes, this is quite interesting.

But I do feel that this will be

one of my better books.

You think you'll ever get to write it?

I hope so.

After three years of hooting around what he

likes to refer to as the raw frontier

with the arrow.

I figure I'm ahead every time I take

a breath.

This is a mighty powerful weapon, Mr. Yuma.

So it is.

As long as there's gonna be a murder

charge around here, we got the murder weapon.

And we know who done it.

I reckon he mean you, Reb.

There's room for two more on that tree

out there, and three ain't a crowd.

Your subtlety staggers me.

And so are these, Mr. Earle, if you

all don't put your guns on the table.

Better be out of town before dark.

Well, see, now, this old Reb done gone

and got himself in such a mess, I

reckon it's up to us to kind of

help him out.

Help me?

A little more help from you two and

I'll be swinging from that tree out there.

Oh, I don't think they'd go so far

as to hang you, Mr. Yuma.

Do you, Otis?

Now, Otis.

I suggest you not call undue attention to

us.

Now, Otis, the strong box.

You had a bust in, couldn't you at

least wait until dark?

A couple of weird angles have been popping

up in my mind.

If Jason was murdered for the notes, doesn't

it strike you as peculiar that the murderer

didn't destroy them?

Who says he didn't?

The jolly, jolly pubkeeper indicated as much.

Well, the jolly, jolly pubkeeper was wrong.

There ain't no notes in here.

Just carcid asphalt mail-order house.

Therefore, we know the true motive for the

murder.

Those notes could only be of value if

Jason had a partner, a partner who's using

the temper of the town to conceal the

murder.

So they'll have to keep on paying?

There lies the irony.

I wonder what would happen if the town

found out the notes were missing.

Splendid, Mr. Humer, splendid.

Now, if we could entice each debtor to

retrieve his own note from the file, then

the one who tries to stop them because

he knows the notes are already gone will

be...

The murderer.

Brilliant, Otis, brilliant.

Well, just how do we go about this

enticing, Your Majesty?

Well, I thought a few well-chosen words

would do it.

Uh-uh.

One well-placed file.

Splash!

Someday, somebody will do something I expect.

Now, gentlemen, this demonstration is for the purpose

of...

Oh!

This isn't at all what I had in

mind.

Splash!

If you stop waving that thing around and

put it away, you're mortgages.

Oh.

Mortgages!

All right, boys, leave him alone.

Every one of you get his own note

and do whatever you want with it.

There's your file.

Do you mind?

Oh, after you.

Open it up.

This is what we ought to do with

these.

Uh, just

a minute, girly.

Hoo-hoo, boy, you sure can pickle.

What's eating you?

It's your party.

Ladies and gentlemen, it is with singular regret

that I have to inform you that this

lovely child of nature is the one who

disposed of Mr. Minor.

Lorena happens to be a murderess, but let's

be charitable.

Perhaps it's her only fault.

I tell you, he's a liar.

He has got a limber jawbone all right,

but, uh, he ain't a liar.

If you've done it, Lorena, we're behind you

till man.

I'll hang your picture up in the bar.

Don't let him scare you, Lorena.

There's no evidence.

There ain't nobody.

Huh?

All right, boys, I did it.

So, fill me a statue.

I'm the one who did you the favor.

And, uh, hang the picture in that slinky

dress of mine.

Now, if you boys will step aside, I'm

getting in the stage.

Lorena, your fair heroine is about to leave

town with all your notes and mortgages.

The notes were burned.

You've seen it.

We'll find out soon enough.

Excuse me.

I'll help you myself.

Fancy big mouth.

Sheriff, after you put my things on the

stage, I'll say goodbye to Dead Oak.

Throwed shotgun long enough to know a woman

doesn't wear a bustle on a long trip.

That's our notes.

That's my mortgage.

Well, what does she want with them?

What good are they to her?

The lovely Lorena was Jason Miner's silent partner.

I thought you could put one over on

us, eh?

Take the food out of our mouths.

Well, we caught you red-handed.

Oh, we'll have a trial, get you hung,

and that'll be the end of Jason and

you.

Yeah.

You forgot you dumped the body and filed

suicide papers.

Besides, they never hung a woman in Texas.

With your assets, I feel sure that you'd

be represented by the finest legal talent in

the territory.

I don't care what lawyer she uses.

She's gonna rot in jail.

That ain't gonna get you off the hook.

You're still working for me.

And I'm gonna send someone here once a

month to pick up my check.

You suckers.

All of you.

You lose at my feral tables and I

back Jason with your own money.

And he ends up double-crossing me.

Here we go.

Good luck, Lorena.

I'm Hondo Payne, District Marshal.

Understand there's been a killing.

Well, you're a little late, Hondo.

Late?

That'll be the day.

Never have so many owe so much.

Yes, sir.

You sure can pick them.

I better quit while I'm ahead.

A lady said to give this to you.

That's amazing.

It's Spanish to bloom.

Otis, this is one of the storied pieces

of eight.

And there are thousands more where these came

from.

Hey, Jo, she's so...

so un-English.

But I need your help, senor.

They are trying to strip me of my

heritage.

I would be so grateful for your help.

Oh, I feel, uh, sure we can, uh,

help her, don't you?

It's an intriguing prospect, eh, Mr. Yuma?

Would you care to join Mr. Rumpf and

me?

No, thanks.

I had enough trouble the last time you

two, uh, helped somebody.

Adios.

Be a good Earl.