All language subtitles for The Wild Wild West - 02x16 - The Night of the Tottering Tontine.Unspecified.English.updated.Addic7ed.com

Couldn't have better
weather for traveling

if we'd planned it.

Uh, it's a short walk
down the street

to the stage depot,
Dr. Raven.

Think I'll be safe,
Mr. West?

I really think
it was unnecessary

for President Grant to
assign you to safeguard me.

The president feels that until
your new weapon's perfected,

that your life
may be in danger.

Oh,
Dr. Raven.

Well, Martin.
Hello, how are you?

Good to see you.
Good to see you.

Mr. Dexter, Jim West.

How do you do?
How are you?

Dexter's going to our reunion
in Monterey.

Good, we can
travel together.

Oh, are you going too, West?

Yes, I am.

Well, then welcome aboard.

Thank you.

Well, gentlemen, I have
a couple of errands to run.

I'll catch up with you later.

Oh, uh- Uh, by the way, doctor.

Uh, was it you who had
a particular taste

for the Jamaican cheroot?

Well, as a matter
of fact, yes.

Cursed difficult
to find, though.

Then I'd recommend

the tobacconist across
the street. He stocks them.

Gentlemen.

Thanks.

I'll be just a minute.

Yes, sir.

You all right?

I think so.

Dexter.

Poor Dexter. Why would
anyone kill him?

Ask yourself why Dexter
would want to kill you.

Well, that's only
a guess.

He planned for you
to be in the tobacco shop.

Why? What was your
association with him?

we were both members

of a rather unique
investment group.

What's so unique about it?

Our original investment
of several thousand dollars

had increased
in value to millions.

I see.

And this trip we're
about to take to Monterey?

Our annual
get-together.

Stockholders' report, just like
any other investment group.

With one important
difference.

What's that?

Jim!

Ah, pause a moment.
Woah.

Keep the change.

Thank you.

Anything turn up
in the investigation?

Oh, a little something.

It seems that the gunpowder,
detonator and plunger

were all bought by a party
by the name of Fields...

whose description sounds
suspiciously

like one Martin Dexter.

Oh. Maybe you were
right about Dexter.

I did a little more digging too.

That group you
belong to, sir...

I was just telling
West about it.

Yeah. One of the members
was drowned last year?

Yes, Emmett Banhoff.

Well, it seems that
another one of your group

fell under the wheels of a train
just the other day.

Name of Hunter.

George Hunter?

Dexter makes three.

Doctor, we're gonna make sure
you're not number four.

Hold that stage! Hold it!

Artie!

Artie!

Artie, can you hear me?

Perfectly. What are you
yelling about?

Ah-! Ah-!
Ah. Not that one.

Oh, no. Thank you.

Are you all right,
Mr. Gordon?

Oh, I'm fine,
I'm fine.

That settles it, doctor.

We're not taking
any more chances.

We're going back.
No.

Excuse me, Mr. West.

Need I remind you
that yours and Mr. Gordon's job

is to protect me.

Not to direct
where I'm going.

Now, we're continuing on.

Are you sure we have
to take that from him?

Artie, that's exactly
what I wanted him to say.

Oh, of course.

Whoever's trying to kill him
isn't gonna stop

just because
we turned back.

Artie, let's get our doctor
to his meeting.

Ain't you dead yet, Raven?

Yes, sir.

You look kind of long
in the tooth.

I thought for sure
you'd never make it.

Mr. Stimson...
another member of our group.

Wild Boy Harry Stimson,
that's me. Gunslinger.

If the subject ever came up
in your hearing.

Bounty hunter now...

from what I hear.

Specializing in killing
unarmed men.

For a tenderfoot
with a bad wing,

you got entirely
too good a memory,

Mr. Whatever-Your-Name-Is.

Gordon.

And my name's James West.

And I've got
a good memory too.

And there's nothing wrong
with my wings.

Well, now, what are
we all so touchy about, hm?

Come on,
let's squat.

Bounty hunter,
huh?

Well, now, that's
the old Harry Stimson

you're talking
about.

The Harry Stimson that used to
count his change very carefully

when he'd belly up
to a bar.

Oh, you're gonna tell us

all about the new Harry Stimson,
aren't you?

Oh, well,
the new Harry Stimson...

Well, now, he's got
it made all the way.

All he's got to do is call out
if he wants a drink.

Hey, Curly...

let's have
a bottle.

That one, Curly.

I, uh, don't mean to pry
into your personal affairs,

but, uh, isn't it a little messy
doing it your way?

Oh, now, Curly don't mind...
do you, Curly?

Uh, don't mind nohow,
Mr. Stimson.

There, you see?

Why, he's even smiling,
ain't he?

You know why?

Because he knows
I can buy and sell him,

his saloon, and every bottle
of rotgut he's got in here.

Ain't that right,
Curly?

Uh, sure, Mr. Stimson.

No more counting your change,
Stimson,

when you're up at the bar
and you want a drink, huh?

Oh, no, sir, Mr. West.

No, sir.

No. The new Harry Stimson's
got it made all the way.

Of course, I got to
concentrate

on staying alive.

If I can manage that
long enough,

why, I'm gonna be
a very rich man.

Ain't that right, Pappy?

He means the tontine.

Tontine? Oh, don't tell me.
It's, uh...

an investment group operating

on the law of survival, right?

That's right.

And nobody inherits.

The last survivor
gets all the money.

That's right.

So naturally, if you just happen
to get yourself killed,

why, that'd just mean that
there'd be one less body

between me and all
that lovely money.

Three have been downed,
six corpses to go.

Stimson, you're becoming
less and less attractive to me.

And that's with the right hand.

Now, I'm gonna show you
the left hand.

He's dead.

At this range,
how could he miss?

This gun's been tampered
with to backfire.

Stimson down.

Six corpses to go.

What's keeping
Mr. Gordon?

Oh, he'll be along.

Sorry I'm late.
Mustache trouble.

Now, remember,
it's Angus MacGordon,

your secretary, traveling
companion and bodyguard.

Very clever.

Thank you, sir.

Thank you
very much indeed.

At your service.

Hold it, doctor.

You hear it too?

Yeah.

Ah, Raven.

That's a fine way

to discourage
peddlers and thieves.

Come in,
gentlemen.

Oh, good evening,
Grevely.

Quite, quite, quite.

Ah, Raven,
forgive an old friend

for leaving you stand out
in the cold.

Uh, and we've grown
quite anxious about you.

There's something wrong with
your door I think, sir.

Really?

Oh, Grevely, um,
this is Mr. James West,

my very good friend.
Pleasure, sir.

This is my servant and
secretary, Angus MacGordon.

A very good evening
to you, sir.

Quite. Uh, shall we join
the others?

Oh, Grevely.
First, I think

there's something
you ought to know.

Dexter and Stimson
have been murdered.

Huh?

Banhoff and Hunter
have died

under very mysterious
circumstances.

And an attempt
has been made on my life.

Aha.

Well, I think the others
should be notified immediately.

How long have the others
been here?

Since 4 this afternoon,
to be exact.

Uh, gentlemen...

An added security
precaution.

As you will see...

my collection
of Egyptology

rivals that of
the national museum.

Well, Dr. Raven...

we'd just about given you up
for lost.

Yes, just because you work
for the government

doesn't give you the right to
hold up other people's business.

Time is money.

Let's get on
with the meeting, hm?

Forgive me,
all of you,

but...I was detained
by a most unpleasant business.

You see...

Grevely.

Raven, introduce
your guests.

Yes, well...
I'd like you all to know

Mr. West and Mr. MacGordon.
They're my guests.

Dr. Raven has brought word

that a calamity has befallen
our companions...

which I will impart
to you now.

What? What calamity?

I go back to a night.

A stormy night
off Cape Hatteras...

when we all joined arms

in the face of certain death

and pledged, "All for one
and one for all."

Hm.

That was the principle of
the tontine, was it not?

Grevely, what's this
all about?

We all know that.

A good and noble principle.

However, we all forgot
that the tontine invites man's-

Uh, or woman's...

scurrilous nature
to come to the fore.

He takes a while to
warm up, doesn't he?

Uh, one of us has succumbed
to his or her basest nature.

Dexter and Stimson
have been murdered.

Banhoff and Hunter died
under mysterious circumstances.

And now one of us
is trying to...

...knock off Dr. Raven.

And now let me
introduce you

to the survivors
of the tontine, gentlemen.

He better hurry. There
won't be any of them left.

The first lady of the theater,
Amelia Mateland.

Hardly the first, Charles,
but I'll settle for second.

When do we get down
to business, Grevely?

I didn't trek out in this
wilderness to make friends.

I want to know
what our profits came to.

Mr. Applegate is
only a banker.

He doesn't appreciate
the harmony of the spheres...

the rhythms between
certain people.

For us...no introduction
is necessary.

Do you know
Gunther Pearse?

Pearse? Oh, I had
an old aunt in Glasgow

that married one of
the Edinburgh Pearses.

Uh, this Mr. Pearse

is the leading
heavyweight contender.

A pugilist?

That's, uh,
very interesting.

Another member
of our company...

And here we have the Archduke
Maurice of Valdofia.

Uh, abdicated.

At the time there was 17 feet
of snow in my country,

but they still managed
to make it hot for me.

If you're wondering why I still
wear the, uh, uniform

of my former rank,
it is, uh...sheer nostalgia.

Uh, sheer vanity, he means.

Edward Baring.

Ah.
Ah.

Mr. Baring...
I've read your books.

Aye, so have I.

Mr. Baring, here,

specializes in
murder mysteries.

Ah, very nicely phrased,
MacGordon.

All right, let's go. How about
getting down to business, hm?

All right,
shall we get started?

Amelia, gentlemen,
be seated.

Uh, Mr. West, MacGordon,
and you too, Pearse,

I'm afraid I must
ask you to leave now.

We never allow non-members
at our meetings.

Oh, under the circumstances,

don't you think you ought to
make an exception?

I think not, Mr. West.
Hm-hm.

Now, if you don't mind...

I do mind, sir.

Listen to what
he has to say.

Why? I don't see why.

Confound it,
Grevely,

let the fellow speak his peace,
then give him walking papers,

and maybe, just maybe,

we'll get down to
business at long last.

You're on, Mr. West.

Thank you, Miss Mateland.

The point I'm trying
to make is this:

Dexter and Stimson
were murdered.

That could happen to everyone
else here in this room.

Ridiculous.

You're right, sir.

I should have said
everyone here...

minus one.

Fascinating.

Are you suggesting that one
of us in this house is greedy?

One of us?

My dear Baring,
all of us are.

And don't you agree,
Amelia?

Really, Maurice, I don't
think that's particularly-

All right, all right.

The young man
has spoken his peace.

We've all been
properly frightened.

Where's that
mineral water?

So now may I suggest
that we bid him adieu,

so that the rest of us
can get down to b-

I don't know who is
responsible for this,

but now that we have all
had our little laugh...

suppose we get back
to business.

Hold it.

Mr. Applegate?

Oh!

I think you've proved
your point, Mr. West.

One of us in this house
is very probably a murderer.

No.

Was it not you,
Mr. Baring,

who passed Mr. Applegate
that carafe of mineral water?

Of course.

I came here
in the middle of last night

and arranged all of this.

Rigged the carafe
and, uh, the knife in the chair.

Well, I'm not going
to worry about it anymore.

I no longer want to have
a meeting in my house.

I move we adjourn...right now.

It won't work.
The mechanism's jammed.

Where are your other exits?
There are no other.

There's no other way
to the outside,

and that door
is all metal.

It's impervious
to explosives or acids.

We're trapped.

Well, there must be some
other way out of here.

You can always jump out
the window, Amelia.

It's only 1,200 feet
down to the surf.

How can you say
a thing like that?

Oh.

Can't we at least
get him out of here?

Uh, Pearse...

bring the body over here.

Put it in the wine cellar.

What now,
Mr. West?

I discover
who the murderer is.

The only problem is
you all have the same motive.

West.

My job is to keep
you alive, sir...

even if it is to face
a murder trial.

An interesting group
of suspects, huh, Mr. West?

Martin Grevely,
cattle baron...

fortune founded
on slaughter.

Hm.

Edward Baring...

a man who, in a sense,
lives by murder...

on paper.

Robert Raven...

an inventor of munitions,
a dealer in death.

Oh, a useful friend
to presidents.

And myself...

accustomed to a life
of leisure

and now, um,
indubitably impoverished.

And, uh, why did you
leave me out?

Because, my dear Amelia,
your impressive protector

has just returned from
Applegate's vintage tomb.

And how do I rate in this cast
of characters, Mr. West?

Oh, even you could be
guilty of murder.

Hm-hm.

Hm. I, for one, am glad

you showed up
here tonight, Mr. West.

That does it.

I have seen enough
for one evening, thank you.

Think everyone should
go to their rooms. Good night.

Uh, Mr. West...

...we really picked
the funny farm

this time, didn't we?

Not so funny.

He didn't walk
up here alone.

I'm going down there.

Fine, I'll go with you.

No. Stay close to Raven.

Right.

I'm going to
lie down.

All right. I'll be here.

Welcome to Subterranea,
Mr. West...

the end of the line
for you.

I think you'll
appreciate

the appropriateness
of your situation.

That cart is on rails.

At the end
of the rails

is an opening
in the face of the cliff.

From there, all you
have to do is step down

a mere 1,200 feet.

Look down, Mr. West.

Get the idea?

Pyrotechnic propulsion.

oblivion.

Oh, I've also insured against

even the remotest possibility
that you can escape.

Once the rocket
sends you into flight,

I've arranged a secondary
explosive device,

which will blow you to bits
before you even reach the ocean.

You shouldn't have gone
to all this trouble

for such a short trip.

Oh, no trouble, Mr. West.

Uh, no trouble at all.

Farewell, Mr. West.

Raven! Dr. Raven!

What was
all that noise?

Come with me.

Uh, what are all
the fireworks about?

Is, uh, someone
celebrating something?

What was
that light?

I heard a terrible noise.

Yes, what was it?

I don't know...

but I intend to
find out.

Why, Mr. MacGordon...

The name is Gordon,
not MacGordon.

Artemus Gordon.

My partner.

Jim.

Well, I'm glad you're alive.

What happened?

I've been working
on the railroad, Artie.

Mr. Grevely knows
what I'm talking about.

What railroad?

The railroad
beneath your house.

I gave one of this country's
foremost architects

a completely free hand
in designing this house.

And if anything puzzles you,
Mr. West, I suggest you ask him.

Go on, ask him.

Ask Martin Dexter.

But he's dead.

Uh, try to use this bit of irony
in your new novel, huh, Baring?

There is one dead person
who can tell us:

King Rafakhanan
of Ancient Egypt.

In moments of sorrow
and stress...

I ask him for guidance.

Ask him what?

Ask him to name...

who is the murderer
among us.

Ridiculous.

Well, I'd have
no objection.

It certainly is more amusing
than sitting around

staring at each other.

I'd ask anyone at this point.
What do we have to do?

Dim the lights...

sit around the table...

and join hands.

Uh, Baring.

Uh, won't you
be seated?

Uh, no, no, no, no,
my dear archduke.

Nobility before talent.

Hands, please.

O great King Rafakhanan

of the ancient world

and beyond the barrier
of death...

speak of that which only
you may truly know

without being destroyed
by the terrible knowledge

of the sights that only you

may glimpse
without being seared.

Of the sounds
that only you may hear

without being deafened.

Summon for us the spirits
of our murdered friends.

Only they...

through the barrier of death...

can identify the killer.

Tell us. Oh, tell us.

Grant us
this terrible knowledge.

Tell us.

O great King Rafakhanan,

let us be blinded
if necessary,

that the corporeal scales
may fall from your eyes

and the vision of darkest night
be granted us.

Speak. Speak.

Tell us. Oh, tell us.

No.

No!

What is wrong, o great king?

I cry.

I cry for you, Amelia.

Why?

Because you...

are the next to die.

No! It's not true.

Oh, tell me it's not true.

Artie...get the lights.

Where's Amelia?

What?

Baring.

Baring?

A treasure.
Ch�teau Rothschild.

1806.

Hm.

Careful, my friend.

Yes, I'm coming.

Who is it?

Maurice.

It will be most rewarding
for you to let me in.

Will you join me?

Ch�teau Rothschild,

bottled in that most
1806.

Oh, yes, yes,
a real find.

Oh, you're preparing
to leave, huh, Baring?

Oh, no. No, no, no.

Uh, well, let us say I am
preparing to be ready to leave.

I...

Oh, why do I find it
necessary to make excuses?

Yes, I am
preparing to leave.

As a matter of fact,
I can't wait to leave!

That's odd.

As a novelist...

I should think you would enjoy
the gothic atmosphere here.

Let me tell you
something, Maurice.

I have written a whole bookshelf
full of books about characters

whose lives are about
to be dramatically or suddenly

snuffed out...

but I do not relish
finding myself

in a position where
I do not know when or where

death is suddenly to appear.

Through the upholstery
of a chair...

or from the depths
of a crystal ball?

Or, yes, even from
a wine glass.

How do you feel about
an executioner's ax,

my dear Baring?

Well...?

No matter.

You are wise to be
cautious, Baring.

Maurice, what is it?
What is it?

The wine.

It has gone flat. Pity.

I shall have to search for
another bottle. Bon voyage.

Dexter?

I try never to ask
stupid questions,

but if you could explain,
Mr. West.

How did Dexter manage to get
himself killed for your benefit

and brought back to life
for ours?

He reads a lot.

For instance...

one of Mr. Baring's lesser-known
novels, The Matching Set.

a man murders
his twin brother

to provide himself
with an alibi.

A very excellent alibi too.

Even the police investigation
failed to disclose the fact

that Martin Dexter...
had a twin brother.

To kill your own brother...

You know,
if I had thought of that,

I could still be on the throne.

Now, if Dexter
was presumed to be dead...

he could never have collected
from the tontine...

which can only mean that
he has to have an accomplice.

I was waiting for
one of you gentlemen

to come to that
very obvious conclusion.

Well done, my love.

Checkmate, Mr. West.

Oh, Amelia's not afraid
to pull the trigger.

It will only
save me time.

We'll take care of Mr. Gordon
and the rest in just a minute.

First, Mr. West and I

are going to have a little...

heart-to-heart.

Excuse me.

You've been very clever,
Mr. West...

and a lot of trouble to me.

Very good,
Mr. West.

Oh. Very angular.

You know, Mr. West...

I built this room merely
as an intellectual device.

I never thought anyone
would be so troublesome

that I'd have to use it.

I wouldn't if I were you,
Mr. Gordon.

Another little present
for you, Mr. West.

It's no use,
Mr. West.

Thank you
very much.

What happened to Dexter?

He's, uh, stuck
in the rumpus room.

My friends, until
we are somehow

released from
this place...

may I suggest we wile away
the time with a parlor game?

You know, in this country,
there is one

which everyone seems to know
how to play:

murder.

Everyone?

Oh, my,
I do declare.

What a glorious little
parlor car you boys have here.

Well, it isn't exactly
Buckingham Palace-

No, but we
call it home.

Uh, make yourselves
comfortable, ladies.

You never got through
telling us

whatever did happen
with that tontine.

Remember?
Oh, uh...

Well, they decided to
make a different deal.

Now, they're turning the money
over to a scholarship fund

for deserving
students.

Yes. That's not only
a noble gesture,

but it also does...wonders
for the life expectancy.

Imagine giving up all those
glorious little old millions.

Yes.

Whatever do you imagine Amelia
and Dexter would have done

if they had knocked off
all those others?

Oh, gotten married and
lived happily ever after.

And speaking of Amelia...

this is one
of her crystal balls.

Remember the last time
we watched Amelia

do her crystal ball act,
Artie?

Hm? Oh. Never forget it.

Not if I lived
to be a million.

There was Amelia,
moaning away...

"O great
King Rafakhanan...

send us a sign."

And then she started to
make passes over the ball.

It started to smoke.

And to glow.

Yes, with a kind
of a...

white-hot
incandescence.

Eerie, as though ready
to explode.

Great scott, look.