All language subtitles for The Life and Legend of Wyatt Earp S01E15

♪ Wyatt Earp, Wyatt Earp ♪

♪ Brave, courageous, and bold ♪

♪ Long live his fame and long live his glory ♪

♪ And long may his story be told ♪

When Wyatt Earp was Marshal of Wichita, Kansas in 1875,

one of the serious problems with which he had to deal

was the runaway boy from the East.

Hundreds of such youngsters, incited by lurid dime novels

about cowboys, Indians, and outlaws,

left their homes in eastern towns and cities

for the wild, exciting life of the Western Frontier.

If today's comic books

have a bad effect on many juvenile readers,

they are mild compared to the bloody sensationalism

of paperback thrillers,

which lured the youth of earlier times

to seek adventure in the brawling violence

of cattle trail and cow town.

Hold it!

Break it up, there!

All right, hold it!

Get the gun!

Come out of there!

Why, you little punk.

Are you using real bullets?

I got me several of that Lazy H outfit.

Oh, you did, huh?

Well, they all seem to be standing up.

You the sheriff, mister?

No, I'm the marshal. Who are you?

My name's Tim Jones.

I'm with the Bar Ws.

We had our loading orders first,

then those Lazy Hs tried to jump our claim.

You took a shot at me.

Well, I didn't see your star.

I thought you were a Lazy H.

I don't shoot at the law.

Now that's real considerate of you.

Come on.

Was he shooting?

Yeah, without a license.

This one's sober.

We'll take him back to town with the rest of them.

Does a cowhand get a fair trial in this town,

or do they lynch him?

Your size, we spank.

Anybody get hurt?

No. They're too drunk to get hurt, most of 'em.

I wish people would keep their kids at home.

I got another Desperate Desmond on my hands.

Runaway boy, huh? Yeah.

It's a wonder he didn't ping somebody or hurt himself.

Is this the kid's?

Yeah.

This is the worst yet.

They're coming west by the hundreds.

We've had at least a couple of dozen in the last few months.

Can't you get something in the Eastern papers about it?

I've tried, Wyatt.

I think it's just normal kid behavior.

In fact, they're rather proud.

Proud? Proud of what?

Young America, the spirit of the pioneers...

You know the line.

Well, I've got something to show you.

Sam.

Sam, bring that young Tim Jones in, will you?

Now the "spirit of the pioneers" is fine.

But I have yet to see a runaway kid with a hoe.

They all want to be gunfighters.

It's those dime novels they read.

Ned Buntline and his daredevil of the plains.

Yeah, written by men that have never been west of Albany.

I wish they could see what it does

to some of their readers.

Well, take a good look at him, Mr. Murdock.

Young America.

Hey, are you the judge?

No, that's Mr. Murdock.

He happens to be the editor of the Wichita Eagle.

Hey, I don't want my name or my picture in the paper.

Well, don't worry, you're not that important.

Now go sit down.

Where do your folks live?

Haven't any folks.

Who's your relatives?

No relatives.

Just write it down that I'm a cowpuncher

working for the Bar W outfit.

The Bar W outfit doesn't hire kids.

You jumped off a freight train.

I don't want any more fresh talk from you.

I've got to send you home.

Where is that?

None of your business.

Don't get sassy with Mr. Earp, kid.

Okay.

I'm a homeless juvenile vagrant.

I'm an orphan without any means of support.

That's too bad.

We'll, uh, have to put him up for adoption.

Yeah.

Mr. Bodine at the dairy

would like to have another orphan.

40 cows to milk twice a day,

only three kids to do it.

Think you're tough enough for that?

Well, I want to be a cowhand.

You know, ride the range, punch cows.

You can milk cows at the dairy.

No. If my father were here, he'd...

You just turn me loose.

You do have a father, huh? No, I don't.

Bend over the desk.

What? You heard me.

I said bend over the desk. No! Ow!

Wait, I'll tell ya!

All right.

My father is Timothy Jones, Sr.

He lives in the Fifth Avenue Hotel

in New York City.

New York, huh?

You've come a long way.

I'll send a wire for you, Wyatt.

Thanks. We should hear in a few hours.

My father'll fix you

for using corporal punishment on me.

No one's allowed to do that.

You're just a Big Country Jake Sheriff.

You're a spoiled brat.

At least you might as well start learning.

Learnin' what?

To be a cowhand,

that's what you came west for, isn't it?

Yeah.

Where do we go now?

We're going to a little cowhand school.

I run it just for boys like you.

Now the first thing a cowhand has to learn

is how to ride a horse.

I already know.

Oh, you do, huh? Sure.

Come here.

It's on this side.

Turn him loose.

All right, Mr. Jones.

You all right?

Yeah.

I'll show him.

No, I think you had enough.

I want to try him again.

All right, but this time,

keep your heels out of his flank.

Stayed on him that time a longer time.

You want to try him again?

No. That horse doesn't like me.

Well, we'll forget about riding for the time being.

Cowhand's got to learn how to rope.

That's a lasso.

Give it here.

I'll show you how to bust a steer.

Oh?

First, you tie one end of the rope around your waist.

Then, you open the loop at the end, like this.

Uh-huh.

That's good.

Now you stay right here,

and I'll go get a steer and let him out of the chute.

You can rope him.

How big a steer?

Oh, just about your size.

Those aren't steers.

Those are calves, little dogies.

Well, you just go ahead and try and rope 'em.

I'll show ya.

Mr. Jones, you're aiming at the wrong end.

Come here.

You go up and climb up on that fence over there,

and drop the loop over their head.

That's not the proper way to do it.

That's the proper way for a cowhand on foot.

Now you go climb up.

Okay. Go on.

Are you all set?

Yeah.

I'll shoo one by for you.

Come on, dogie.

Go on!

Ow, it burns my hands.

Untie the rope.

Whoa, boy.

Now, let's see.

First, you tie the rope around your waist...

Well, I thought that was the way you did...

You can't rope and your can't ride.

What can you do?

I'm tired and I'm hungry.

Well, a good cowhand can always eat.

But you're a little dirty.

Got to get you scrubbed up first.

Oh, no.

Oh, yes.

This water's too cold. I'll catch pneumonia.

It's good for you.

No!

It's too cold!

Aah!

Now you know what that is?

A farm tool of some kind.

In Kansas, we call it a hoe.

This is what you do with it.

Now you try it.

Not me. That's hard labor.

No work, no eat.

But it has nothing to do with being a cowhand.

They don't chop down weeds with hoes.

Yes, they do.

And they clean the corrals with pitchforks, too.

They squat on dirty cows

and burn their hide with a branding iron.

Hard labor.

Well, you ought to see what they look like

after a week of riding in the brush

and alkali dust on a round-up.

They stink, Mr. Jones.

I got no more time to waste on you.

Go buy your lunch from the jailer.

Hi, Marshal.

Hi, Sam.

Message came a while ago from Mr. Murdock. Uh-huh.

That New York business.

Well, read it to me, will you?

"No Timothy Jones registered at Fifth Avenue Hotel."

Thanks.

Mr. Jones.

Come on in here.

Now we may be Country Jakes,

but at least we try and tell the truth.

I've even taken the word of an outlaw killer

like Ben Thompson, and he kept it.

But I can't take yours.

There's nobody registered by the name of Timothy Jones

at the Fifth Avenue Hotel.

They've never heard of him.

All right, go ahead.

No.

I'd rather be spanked

than listen to you call me a liar and no-good brat.

All right, then.

What's your father's real name?

I'm not going to tell you.

Why not?

You'll telegraph him,

then he'll send detectives after me.

I'm not going home. I hate it there.

All right, you hate your home.

I still have to know where you live.

Look, I obeyed ya.

I took a bath.

I tried to stay on that horse.

I got dragged by a dogie and I hoed weeds.

That's more than I did for anybody else.

Now I'm through with you.

Mr. Jones.

Sit down.

You happen to be a runaway boy, and the law says

it's my job to get you home. Do you understand that?

You can't do that if I won't tell you where I live.

All right.

Take this note

over to the clerk at the Texas House.

Here's the key to my room.

Get yourself a bite to eat,

and you stay at the hotel.

Tim.

When I get off work, we'll have a long talk.

When'll that be?

8 or 9, maybe later.

Now, I'm trusting you to stay there.

I'll run away.

No, you won't.

How you figure that?

Well, most kids want to be good.

You can't be any different from the rest of them.

Sure, you want to be a cowhand,

you want to follow Ned Buntline's wild westerns.

But why run away from home to do it?

You've got plenty of time for that when you grow up.

Why make such a secret out of where you live?

Your father can't be that bad.

I'll see you at the hotel, Mr. Earp.

Are you sure you saw the kid go in here?

Yeah, he ate by himself and then he went in.

Good evening.

Railroad detectives.

Hannibal and St. Joseph.

What can I do for you?

You got a lad

about 14 years old staying here?

He's a nice-looking boy.

He's about that tall. Brown hair, blue eyes.

Oh, yes, Timothy Jones.

He's in care of Marshal Earp.

Timothy Jones?

Where can we find him?

You'd better talk to Marshal Earp.

He's usually here by now.

Thank you. We'll be back.

Is that you, Mr. Earp?

No, it's Mr. Davis, the clerk.

Oh.

Two railroad detectives were just here.

They asked about you.

What'd you tell them?

I told them they should talk to Mr. Earp.

But he asked me to make sure you stayed in the hotel.

Thank you, sir. I'll stay right here.

Turn me loose!

Mr. Earp'll fix you.

That cow town sheriff

better keep his nose out of this.

Mr. Earp! Mr. Earp!

Help me!

Hold it! Let him go.

You keep out of this.

We're railroad detectives.

They're kidnapping me.

I don't care who you are, you're under arrest.

Yeah?

Hold it.

Kill 'em both, Mr. Earp.

You get back to the hotel and stay there. Go on!

Yes, sir.

All right, go pick up your friend.

Go on.

You'll be sorry for this.

That's Big Tim Callahan's son.

And who is Callahan?

The president of the Hannibal/ St. Joe Railroad.

You're in trouble, you stupid Jayhawk.

Yeah?

Start him over to Doc Fabreek's office.

Hey, where's Callahan from?

Chicago.

He headed here in his private car.

Or did you refuse to let his men wire him?

No. They wired him.

Look, this is serious, my friend.

Look, I happen to think I'm right.

Morally, yes.

But you rousted that kid of his around,

buffaloed one of his men and shot the other one.

Lord knows what Callahan will accuse you of.

That reminds me. What?

I promised to have a talk with his kid. Now wait.

I think you and I should have a talk

with Judge Jewett and Mayor Hope.

This is more important.

Well, I happen to think

that the boy is a lot more important than the old man.

The boy is the one that's got the real trouble.

You hate everybody, don't you?

First you take a shot at me,

then you want those detectives killed,

and now your father.

What has your dad done to you

that you're so willing to turn into a little tramp?

Everybody's against me.

The old man, most of all.

So I'm against them.

Why do you think your father's against you?

He don't even know me.

He's never home.

He believes my stepmother.

Everything she says is right.

Your stepmother's against you, huh?

She hates me.

Every time my dad hires a teacher I get along with,

she waits until Dad's on a trip

and then she fires 'em.

Does your dad travel a good deal?

Most of the time.

Then the servants keep me locked up

in that big old house.

Well, that's not enough reason

to go around hating people, Tim.

It's not, huh?

I thought I wanted to be your friend, once,

but you're just like all the rest.

It's the Bar W outfit.

You stay away from that window.

Whoo.

Drive on.

Those hoodlums won't shoot at Tim Callahan.

I don't care about you, mister.

My team is worth $300.

I'll pay for the team.

Go back to the barn.

All right, fine with me.

Hyah! Hyah!

Look out, Dad!

Timmy! Timmy!

Are you hurt?

My arm hurts. Guess it's broken.

When are you guys gonna learn to work together, you fools?

Put down your guns, come on.

I'll take care of this.

You and the boys hustle those men in.

Go on.

Let me see that arm.

Who are you?

Now try and stand up. That's it.

Just take it easy. Watch your leg.

Let me see.

We'd better go see Doc Fabreek.

I'm Tim Callahan, and this is my boy...

You almost ran him down.

What are you trying to do, run those horses into gunfire?

Mind your own business!

Don't get sassy with Mr. Earp, Dad.

Wyatt Earp, I thought so.

You're the cow town genius...

Don't move that arm more than you have to.

Just keep your right hand on it.

Doc's office is just up the street.

Don't you ignore me!

I haven't started in on you yet!

If you don't stop jabbering, I'm going to start in on you.

Now pick up the boy's hat and let's go.

Come on, Timmy.

Take it easy.

I'm the boy's father, you understand?

I'm his father!

So I arrive in Wichita, and what do I find?

A gun battle waging on the main street,

and my son Timmy right in the middle of it.

Two of my detectives in jail,

one of them seriously wounded by Wyatt Earp.

And when I offer a mild protest,

Mr. Earp threatens me.

Is this the way you run things in your town?

Your detectives resisted arrest, Mr. Callahan.

And your son refused to give his right name and address.

My time is valuable, and I'm not going to waste it

arguing in a small-time court like this.

Oh, you're not?

I demand that Earp be dismissed immediately.

Your wishes are not law in Wichita.

All right.

Then I charge Earp

with cruel and inhuman treatment of my son,

if you haven't any law against that.

And then I'll bring suit against the city

for civil damages.

I am going to sue you for $50,000.

Hold on.

Cruel and inhuman treatment of a child

is punishable under our criminal code.

Well, well. I'm astonished.

This court is not interested in your personal reaction.

Have you any testimony to present against Marshal Earp?

I most certainly have.

Mr. Becker and Mr. Dean tell me

that Earp forced my son to ride a dangerous horse.

Then he tied him to a steer,

and allowed the steer to drag him around.

And then forced him to hoe weeds in the jail yard for hours.

These are the facts, your Honor.

That's all wrong, Judge. That's not the way it happened.

It's all a pack of lies.

Now, now, son. You keep out of this.

Order.

Uh, step over here, young man.

Surely you're not going to listen to a mere child

and irresponsible lad who doesn't...

Sit down, Callahan.

Move over.

Uh, sit down here, son.

Now, Timmy, suppose you tell the court

whether you've been treated cruelly or inhumanly

by Marshal Earp.

No, sir, I wasn't.

And did he force you to ride a dangerous horse?

No, it was all part of the cowhand school.

Cowhand school?

Mr. Earp runs it for spoiled kids

who leave home and think they'd like to be cowhands.

Oh, I see.

The horse and the little calf,

they were all part of the lesson.

Hoeing weeds was part of it, too.

But the best part is

after Mr. Earp gives the acid test,

he treats you like a man.

He trusts ya.

He doesn't let servants lock you up

or put detectives on your trail.

Then you have no complaint

for the way you've been treated since you've been here?

No, sir.

Can I stay here with Mr. Earp?

Please, Judge.

Couldn't Mr. Earp adopt me or something?

Timmy, you don't mean that.

Yes, I do.

Mr. Earp doesn't hate me.

I lied to him and acted fresh,

but he doesn't hate me.

That's all I want... just not to be hated.

Timmy, I don't hate you. I love you.

Why would you say such a thing as that?

All I've ever wanted to do was to protect you

and keep you from harm.

Mr. Earp,

I don't know how to say this,

but I hope you'll forgive me.

I didn't mean what I said.

Sometimes, a man just doesn't... Your Honor,

uh, with the court's permission, I think that

Mr. Callahan, Timmy, and I can work this out together.

Very well.

Court's adjourned.

I think this horse likes me now.

That's the secret, huh, Mr. Earp?

No, the secret is that you like the horse.

I sure do.

As soon as my arm gets well, I'm going to learn

how to ride him just like Mr. Earp does.

I think it's time Dad learned how to rope little dogies.

Don't you, Marshal Earp? That's right.

All right, Timmy.

Uh, just how do you go about

roping one of them, uh, dogies?

Well, uh, it's simple.

First, you tie the rope around your waist.

This one?

All right.

Tie the rope around him, Mr. Earp.

Well, okay.

Now I'll let a little dogie out,

and you sit on the fence, Dad.

And then, you drop the loop around the dogie's neck.

Okay?

All right.

I'll let the little dogie out.

Right up here, huh?

That's right. Right up there.

Well, it seems very simple to me.

Oh, it is. Very simple.

I'll get him the first time out.

Turn that dogie loose.

♪ Well, he cleaned up the country ♪

♪ The old Wild West country ♪

♪ He made law and order prevail ♪

♪ And none can deny it ♪

♪ The legend of Wyatt ♪

♪ Forever will live on the trail ♪

♪ Wyatt Earp, Wyatt Earp ♪

♪ Brave, courageous and bold ♪

♪ Long live his fame and long live his glory ♪

♪ And long may his story be told ♪

♪ Long may his story ♪

♪ Be told ♪