All language subtitles for TheFugitive-1x22-AngelsTravelonLonelyRoadsPart1.EN

Dr. Richard Kimble.

death row, state prison.

Richard Kimble is innocent.

Proved guilty,

what Richard Kimble
could not prove

was that moments
before discovering

his murdered wife's body,

he saw a one-armed man running
from the vicinity of his home.

Richard Kimble
ponders his fate

as he looks at the world
for the last time...

and sees only darkness.

But in that darkness,

fate moves its huge hand.

ANNOUNCER:

Starring David Janssen
as the fugitive.

Eileen Heckart...

Albert Salmi.

ANNOUNCER:

It was his eyes,
you know?

I mean, if it hadn't
been for the eyes-

Got the dispatch
on the way in.

He the one
who made the ID?

Yes, sir.

Name's Joe Friar.

Deals blackjack
at Brady's Casino.

Just pick up
where you left off.

Well, I was
telling the sergeant,

uh, this fella had been working
at the club a couple of days.

Janitor-type job,
you know?

Only with everybody
having titles now,

you better call 'em
maintenance engineers

or you're bucking for
a bust in the mouth.

Just tell us
about the man, okay?

Oh, yeah.

Well- Well,
it was his eyes.

That's what kept me
studying him.

They had a look...

like a guy
needing a hard-way six.

Scared, sort of, you know?

The more I studied him,

the more I knew I'd
seen him somewhere before.

And then just
a couple of hours ago,

it come to me...

...just like that.

His picture's part of
the post-office art.

I remembered seeing it
last time I was down there

getting off
my alimony check.

Richard Kimble.
That's his name, ain't it?

If you tabbed
the right man.

Must be the right man,
lieutenant.

The minute Friar
pointed him out

to the policeman,
he headed out the back way.

You get out
an all-points bulletin?

Right.

For Kimble, Lincoln City's
going to turn into a box,

barring a miracle.

A miracle is defined as:

"an effect
in the physical world

which surpasses all known
human powers. "

For Richard Kimble, however...

...this has become a world
of stark realities.

A world where life
is lived in inches...

each one possibly the last.

Oh!

My father always said,
as a last resort,

a good kick would get
these infernal contraptions

going as well as anything.

What seems to be
the trouble with it?

The usual infirmities
that accompany old age:

a general lack
of get-up-and-go.

In fact, no go at all.

Strong smell of gasoline.

It's probably
a plugged-up fuel line.

I'll stop at a station
further on down,

send somebody back
to help you.

Why? When you can
fix it?

What makes you think I can?

Well, can't you?

Well, yeah, I suppose
I could, uh...

blow out
the fuel line, but-

Well, I'm in sort of
a hurry, Sister.

A man in a hurry would
walk across this desert

when he has a chance
to ride?

I'll see what I can do.

Is there something wrong?

On the contrary,
I was just marveling

at how swiftly
providence can work

at certain times.

Yes, you'll do just fine.

I'll tell him.
Thanks.

Well, the state patrol's
covering Highways 50

and 395 out of town.

The sheriff's squad's
boxing up the country roads,

and the local police officers
are roadblocking

all the farm roads.

Well, that should do it.

Even if he did
get out of the city.

The arresting officer
was Lieutenant Gerard.

Shall I give him a call?

Forget it.

Lieutenant, this warrant says
he should be notified if-

I said, forget it.

When you've been on the force
as long I have, Joe,

you learn that old habits,
like old friends,

are hard to change.

In this department,
I've developed the habit

of burying
my own dead.

Since Kimble chose
to visit my town...

He reads like
quite a guy.

Yeah.

Thirty years in the business,
and men like Kimble

are still the ones
who fascinate me.

Their intelligence magnifies
their fears into a pain

like a handful of
burning grease.

When it's over...

even the chair
must be a relief.

Then his relief shouldn't be
too long in coming.

If he's holed up in the desert,
he'll soon be starved out.

If he's on one of
these roads...

he's in for
a short trip.

Nick Walker, you said?

Yeah, that's right,
Sister.

Oh. Well, Mr. Walker,

you are a splendid
mechanic.

This car has not
run so well

since I left the convent.

This car isn't
running, Sister.

It's looking for
a quiet place to die.

Tsk. Mr. Walker,

that would hardly be
consistent with the facts.

There I was, knowing that
I had to make a journey

with absolutely no way.

And one morning,

a parishioner
arrives at the convent

and presents us
with this car as a gift.

You mean you think the car
was sort of ordained?

Oh, that sounds
a little pompous,

don't you think?

Still, that's
the general idea.

I thought sisters weren't
allowed to travel alone.

That's correct.

Sister Margaret was
going to accompany me,

but she took ill.

Now, don't you think
you ought to turn back

and wait till the sister's
well enough to travel again?

Turn back?

No, Mr. Walker, there's
no turning back for me.

Well, I hope your trip's
a short one.

I'm going to see
Father Kerrigan.

He's serving at St. Helena's
in Sacramento.

Sacramento?

Yes.

Uh, Sister, Sacramento
is over the mountains.

Oh, Mr. Walker,
you are a worrier.

There is simply no doubt
about it, we'll make it.

Uh, you have used
the term "we... "

several times.

Now, I get the strongest feeling
that you mean you and me.

Of course.

Well, let's get something
straight, Sister.

I mean, I'm only going as far
as Ravenna with you.

That's all. No farther.

Sister.

Uh. I don't seem to be
getting through to you.

On the contrary,
Mr. Walker,

it is I who am not
getting through to you.

Now, there I was,
stranded in the desert...

unable to complete a journey

that I know I am
destined to make.

And out of the blue...

you appear, on foot.

Now, I ask you, Mr. Walker,

what possible set of
natural circumstances

could have brought us
together like that?

ANNOUNCER The interstate
fugitive's identity

was definitely established
at 1:55 early this morning.

Sketch artists are now
attempting to detail

an up-to-date likeness
of Kimble.

Meanwhile, roadblocks are being
set up throughout the area.

Why are all these
cars stopped?

It's a roadblock.

That's a policeman
up ahead.

Why, that's Henry Mesta.

He owns the drugstore
at Galway.

His children go
to our school.

He only does
police work part-time.

I wonder what
he's looking for.

What is that
horrible noise?

Radiator.

Since we're not moving,
there's no air blowing,

so it'll probably freeze up
any minute now.

Is that bad?

Yeah, it's bad, Sister.
It's very bad.

Uh... what are
you doing?

Mr. Walker, I want you
to move right on up ahead,

because I wanna speak to Henry.

Let's, uh...

not make a bad
situation worse.

Okay, Mac,
you start laying heavy

on that horn again-

Henry Mesta,

it was I who was
laying heavy on that horn,

and with good reason.

Do you see that radiator?

Sister Veronica.

What are you doing out here?

Trying to complete a journey

before this contraption
blows up.

Now, will you let us
pass through here?

Why, sure, ma'am. As soon as
I check his identification.

Oh, this just has
a name and address.

I need a description.

Your driver's
license will do.

Now, see here, Henry,
I am not going to sit here

waiting for that thing
to boil over

and cook me
like some stewing hen.

This man is Nick Walker,

and he was sent
to see me

safely to
my destination.

Well, isn't my word
good enough for you?

Well, sure, ma'am, but-

Well, then, let us
out of here before that-

Before what freezes over,
Mr. Walker?

Uh, the block.
Well, Henry?

Okay. Pass on.

And come to church
more often.

You haven't been there
in a month.

Yes, ma'am.

I'm surprised
at you, Sister.

Oh?

You, uh, gave Henry
the distinct impression

that my presence was by reason
of official authority.

But it is, Mr. Walker.

Of the very highest authority.

Well, goodbye,
Sister, and, uh- Uh-

Now, don't act
like that.

I told you I was only
going as far as Ravenna.

Sister, I'm headed south.

Not over the mountains.
I'm headed south.

Sister, faith...

is a wonderful
thing...

but there is
also reality.

Now, I didn't, uh, drop down
beside you on a sky-hook.

I drove out..

on a truck.

Sell the car.

Sell the car,
you get the money,

you take a bus
to Sacramento.

The car is not
mine to sell,

only to use.

Oh, Sister,

this car's only got about
10 good miles in it.

Now, the tires are rotten,
the radiator leaks...

Mr. Walker, you said
you had to catch a train.

Might you not miss it?

What are you gonna do?

I don't know.

At such a time,
all one can do

is to wait
and seek guidance.

Hey.

Hi, friend.

Here you are, right back
where you started from, hey?

You know, I wish I had a dime
for every one of them

switching freights
I've hopped on by mistake.

It's an occupational
hazard

for the second-class
travelers.

H- Hey, mister,

you got an extra
smoke on you?

I- I ain't fussy
about the brand.

Oh. Oh, thanks, pal.

Don't feel bad about
missing that through freight,

because they stopped it
at the edge of the yards.

The fuzz were
looking for a guy.

Uh, they didn't
find him...

but they kicked me off
anyway.

Mr. Walker, I think you'd
better continue to drive.

Mountain heights have a tendency
to make me dizzy.

Uh, Sister, I, uh...

decided to take this secondary
road through the mountains

because I felt that-
It looks like a very good road.

Yeah, well,
I, uh...

I think it's shorter.

Whatever you decide,
Mr. Walker.

Yeah, there's nothing
to worry about.

It's only the world,
so let's ignore it, right?

I don't understand you.

Well, I'm referring to
what is commonly called

the facts of life.

I, uh, don't suppose

you made financial
provisions for the trip?

Of course.

Twenty-two dollars
and 35 cents.

Good.

That's what I had
when I started out.

$1.45.

A d-?

Why, that isn't even
gonna get us

to the top of the next hill.

Then we shall simply
have to add to it.

Uh, maybe there are
some pack stations up here.

That's a place where
hunters get supplies.

It's out of season, but maybe
I can find something to do.

Not maybe, Mr. Walker.

Oh, there's absolutely no doubt
about it, right, Sister?

Right.

You see, the season doesn't
open for another month,

so there's really
nothing to do around here.

I'm sorry.

Well, thank you
very much.

I'd recommend
some other stations,

but they're not
open either.

You should've taken
the main highway.

There's a lot more
action over there.

Yeah, there would be.

I hope the work
won't keep you long.

There's no work,
Sister.

Nor is there likely
to be any up ahead.

Something will turn up.

Don't you think the gentleman
might need some help?

To look at him,
he doesn't need help, Sister.

I... think he could carry
a bale of hay under each arm.

But shouldn't you find out
if he intends to?

Hi.

Can I give you
a hand?

Who are you?

My name's
Nick Walker.

You a priest or something?

No, I'm just driving
the lady over the mountains.

You people like
the Boy Scouts?

You gotta do
a good deed every day?

Yeah, I'll do all the good deeds
you want for $2 an hour.

Yeah?

Yeah. Why not?

Nobody can say
old Chuck Mathis

wasn't willing to give
a helping hand

to the preachers
of goodness and light.

Clear the truck off
from here on back,

put it up in the barn
and stack it neat.

It's 2 bucks an hour.
Get to work.

Attaboy. Uh, now,
you're doing good.

You just keep
right at it.

Well, take another one
off the invoice, Sherie.

You're drinking that hay
faster than he can unload it.

A man has got
something to celebrate,

he celebrates.

Yes, sir, in two days,
little-old Chuck Mathis

is gonna be
right down there

in the middle of
San Francisco.

I'm gonna shake
the moss off my back.

I'm gonna forget
that I ever lived

up here
on these mountains.

Well, Chuck, somebody's
bound to benefit.

Question is, who?
San Francisco or us?

It could be you.

Look, spending
your years up here

on your old man's
pack station,

that isn't living.

I call it a waste.

Drink your beer, Chuck.

Maybe once
I've made my pile,

I'll just write
for you to come down

and help me spend it.

How's that?

Look, I got executive
talent by the yard.

Didn't I get me a boy
to unload my hay?

Oh, sure, Chuck,
you're the most.

Just ask anybody
on the mountain.

You taking on
San Francisco?

They'll probably
put you in a cage

and feed you bananas.

Oh, baby.
Oh.

You are a scream.

You are very funny...
Chuck.

...you know that?
Oh.

Um...

Your beer is
getting warm.

Well, well,
well.

You are just
bubbling over

with the milk of
human kindness,

aren't you, huh?

You're driving a nun
across the mountains,

now you're protecting the honor
of little ladies.

You said to unload
the hay and stack it.

It's done. I'd
like to get paid.

That's only $3.

You owe me 6.

The other 3 is
in my pocket.

Come on.

Come on, you wanna try
to come and get it? Come on.

He sort of gets to you,
doesn't he, mister?

Some people
are all heart.

Miss-

It's all right,
thank you.

My father's around back.

Besides, Chuck's leaving anyway,
aren't you, Chuck?

Hey, Walker,

don't take
any wooden angels.

There's a funny guy for you.

Not the type you'd expect
to be carting a nun around.

And in that old heap,

I- I wonder why he doesn't
stick to the main roads.

Maybe they robbed
a couple of banks.

So why don't you chase
them around for a change?

You have been
extremely tense

ever since we left
that pack station.

Is something wrong?

Oh, now, what could
possibly be wrong, Sister?

Aside from keeping
this old car patched up...

finding a place to stay,
some food for ourselves...

gas and oil to keep
the car running...

all on $4.45,

which is the total wealth
we possess between us.

Plus, I might add-
Mr. Walker.

I would appreciate not having
to listen to any more such talk.

Now, it is my fervent wish

that before
this journey is over,

you will have learned
that what is to be, will be.

Amen.

Where's the jack?

I don't believe there is one.

No jack?

Well, then, how-?
Mr. Walker...

I'm sure that
you will find a way.

A most ingenious device.

Well, it's just
a lever applying

an elementary law
of physics, Sister.

Man learned to lift
more than his own weight

long before
he discovered fire.

All right,
you can get off now.

Mr. Walker,
you have

a definite
scientific bent.

You should think about
taking up

something in
that field.

All right, Walker,
what's the idea

of blocking a public road?

It has to do with
an elementary law of physics.

Mr. Walker can
explain it to you.

Well, all I want
from Mr. Walker

is for him to move that log

so I can get out of here.

I still got
three deliveries to make.

I don't plan to miss
the fights on TV tonight.

May I talk to you?

All right, what's
on your mind?

My 3 bucks.

Otherwise, since I've
already got that car jacked up,

I might just decide to
leave it there a while.

I'll move it myself.
Now, just a minute.

Things are a little
different out here.

There's just you, me,
the sister and the trees.

Now, you decide to
make that walk,

you're liable to find it's
the longest walk you ever taken.

Oh, what's so amusing?

Chalk another one up
for providence, Mr. Walker.

Not only did we make a jack,
but $3 as well.

Hey, Morris,
you been out

shooting squirrels
on county time?

I've been out
on official business,

looking for
a fugitive.

What kind of fugitive?

Oh, prime stock.

Doctor named Kimble who decided
to commit himself a murder.

Somebody spotted him
down in Lincoln City.

A man catch
someone like that,

sure would give him
some size, wouldn't they?

Yeah.

But, uh, you go back to
your beer bottle, Chuck.

We'll find him.

More bread and cheese?

No, thank you.

Mr. Walker, I wish
you'd stop

looking out
that window.

There's nothing
to be worried about.

We just, um...

come in and make
ourselves at home

in a completely
furnished cabin, hm?

You said it yourself.

On $6, we could
hardly buy food

and lodging and gasoline.

Besides...

wasn't the door
unlocked?

Just another
little guiding hand

to get you through
on this

predestined trip
of yours, Sister?

Predestined, yes.
But only for me?

What are you talking about?

I'm talking about you,
Mr. Walker.

"A man who drifts
from job to job. "

Isn't that what
you said?

That's right.

You, a man without
roots?

Doesn't fit.

Oh, I see. I see, yes.

That's the way it is in that
never-never land of yours,

right, Sister?

You look at a man's face,

and right away
you can tell what he is.

Well, Sister, this is
the big human jungle.

It doesn't work that way.

I mean, you just
can't put people

in convenient
little niches

because of the way
they blink their eyes.

The devil doesn't
walk around with horns.

And every man
that society condemns

is not straight from-

I am sorry.
I-

Not usually
that rude.

It's just that, Sister,
when you try to analyze me,

you're out of
your element. I, uh...

I showed up.
I...

I'm driving you
across the mountains.

That's all there is
between us.

Is it?

You so-called realists
simply amaze me.

Priding yourselves on
being able to face the world

with absolute
objectivity.

Able to bleed but not to weep.

And having a smug contempt

for anyone whom
you consider naive.

Well, Mr. Walker,
according to your standards,

perhaps I am naive.

But even in
your big human jungle,

I can still see
the pain in your eyes.

And whatever the reason,
I know you're running.

Now, maybe it's from
an estranged marriage,

or a business failure.

The reason doesn't matter.

The point is, you're running.

I thought my presence here

was due to the long arm
of providence.

A providence perhaps
for you as well as for me.

But a person can't
run forever.

Eventually, he must stop
and face his problem.

Who knows,
Mr. Walker.

Perhaps that time
has come for you.

Good night.

Like I told you...

I seen this guy hop off
a switching freight...

I cadge him for a smoke,
we talked for a minute,

and then it's,
so long, Charlie.

I told all this
to the cops up in Ravenna.

What you wanna
bring me up here for?

All right,
let him go.

You want me to get in touch
with this Lieutenant Gerard?

Plenty of time for that
after we've caught Kimble.

Now, if I were Kimble
and I missed my freight...

there'd only be one other
sensible way to go from there:

west, into
the mountains.

That's sort of out of
your jurisdiction, isn't it?

Somebody shakes up
my town, Joe...

...I'm gonna stretch
the city limits a long ways.

We'd better be
moving on, Sister.

I'm almost ready.

A cabin set away
in the woods...

and you thought you could
come here and not be found.

A foolish mistake,
se�or.

You think people
who build such places

do not hire others
to watch for intruders?

You mean you're caretakers?

For many such cabins
in this area.

Now we go to
the sheriff.

Well, no- Uh-

I have some money.

We're honest men.

Do you think
we would-?

Good morning.

I'm Sister Veronica.

This is Mr. Nick Walker,

who's assisting me on
my journey to Sacramento.

We were in need
of a place to stay,

and we found
the door unlocked.

Is something
wrong?

I didn't know, Sister.

About you, I mean.

I'm sure the owner
of this cabin

would have welcomed you
to stay.

Thank you.

Thank you all very much.

Mr. Walker, will you
get my bag, please?

Sister...

for three weeks now,
our car has been broken.

So for three weeks,
we have not traveled

down the mountain
to church.

This being Sunday,
perhaps...?

Perhaps you would
lead us in prayer?

You don't need anyone
to lead you in prayer.

No voice is so small
that it cannot be heard.

But in the presence
of one so close to God...

our prayers are bound
to have more meaning.

Mr. Walker...

may I have
our funds, please?

I saw a bus stop
down the road.

You will buy
passage to church

for yourself
and your friends.

But, Sister-

We will be leaving here
shortly.

The cabin will be
as we found it.

Now, what was
that all about?

I see no reason
for us to discuss it.

Uh, Sister...

I think we...

should discuss it.

For whatever
reason I'm here,

your version or mine,
I am here.

With little more than
four thin tires and a prayer.

Now, all along I've been hearing
about how we had it made

because of that faith of yours.

And the first time that somebody
asks for help, you back away.

This friend you're gonna
visit, Father Kerrigan.

You know, I keep getting
the strongest impression

it's the last place
you wanna go.

All right,
Mr. Walker,

I suppose you have
a right to know.

I am going to see
Father Kerrigan

to tell him of my decision to...

renounce my vows
and leave the sisterhood.

Oh, that's fine, Sister.

Yeah, that's just fine.

Well, we start a trip that
shouldn't have been started,

we get a lot farther
than we have any right to,

and all along...

All along I'm being told
how things have been ordained.

You wanna know
something, Sister?

It was beginning
to get through to me.

Like the rekindling
of an old fire

I'd forgotten
existed.

And now I find out it's nothing
but a bunch of words

coming from a quitter.

Oh, not a quitter, Mr. Walker.

I tried.

I am 41 years of age...

and my only possession...

is a memory of empty faces.

A representative of God...

who is unable to communicate.

All those years.
All those faces,

seeking guidance that
I was unable to convey.

To marry the Church,
Mr. Walker,

is to perform,
and to perform well.

I have...

not met even
the lowest standards.

You just can't break out

of that world of fantasy,
can you?

What do you mean?

I mean that even
in religion, Sister,

there is
a practical side.

What you're
looking for is

the parting of
the waters, isn't it?

Dunk a few fishes
and loaves of bread

that feed
the multitudes.

Doesn't come on
in a flash of light

and crash
of thunder.

You haven't accomplished
a thing, have you?

Oh, look, Sister.

Sister, they're not
empty faces.

Not the ones that
came to know you.

Mr. Walker, let me
tell you

about one of
those faces.

It was my last...

parish school.

There was a young
Indian boy.

He was about 16 years old.

His name was Hozhoni.

"Hozhoni" is a Navajo word

that means "happiness"
and "right thinking. "

They told me he was a bad boy.

And they were right.

He'd done
many wrong things.

He'd cheated
and he'd stolen, but...

I came to love him
very much.

There was so much
I wanted to teach him...

and I wanted to give to him.

But I failed him.

Three nights a week,

I gave religious instruction
to young adults...

and behind the classroom,
there was a library.

It was a tiny little room.

It wasn't any bigger
than a closet, really.

But... for Hozhoni...

it was his refuge...

his other world.

He came there
for peace

and for
understanding.

Sometimes he would appear...

late at night, after-
After class.

And he'd be standing there
in the doorway,

drunk... weaving.

I'd bring him in
and I'd make coffee...

and we'd sit
and we'd talk,

and we'd talk.

Talk.

Then it would come.

Always, it would
come:

contrition.

The self-guilt.

And when Hozhoni would leave,

he would leave
with God beside him,

vowing that he wouldn't
drink again

and he wouldn't steal again.

And then it would happen again.

And there would be a next time.

And then there was
the final time,

because I...

I felt that Hozhoni must...

stand alone...

without using me as a crutch.

That he had to
face himself alone,

to know that
he was not alone.

For each of us,
God is always there,

if we just reach out for him.

So there came a night...

when he came to the door and-

And he knocked...

and I ignored it.

He came to me for help...

and I...

ignored him.

So after a while
he went away...

and that's the last...

I ever saw of him.

Well, you'll see him
again, Sister.

How, Mr. Walker?

Six days ago,
he was executed in Sing Sing.

Sister, uh-

Last night, you said
I should face my past.

And now, here you are,
running from your own.

That's true, Mr. Walker.

We do have that in common.

You're running from something
in your life,

and I'm...

the worst kind
of fugitive of all:

a fugitive from God.

Uh, this business of
leaving the sisterhood...

it's a big decision.

I hope you change
your mind

before we get to
Sacramento.

If we get to
Sacramento.

If?

It's your word,
Mr. Walker.

Having to do with keeping
a broken-down car together.

And the matter of buying food

and gas and oil without funds.

Yeah, it's my word, Sister,

but it's a switch
hearing it come from you.

What happened to all that
faith of yours?

Those three men back there.

"In the presence of one
so close to God," they said.

Am I really so close to God

when there's...

no one for whom

I've given life meaning?

Yes, Mr. Walker.

If we get to Sacramento.

What happens to us now
depends on you.

Two fugitives.

One, who has lost faith

in her strength
to cross a mountain.

The other, who must cross it
in order to live.

Sister Veronica turns to
Richard Kimble for help.

But the road is long...

and the mountain is high.