Original subtitles

- [Matt] In San Francisco after the gold rush,

the world's largest natural harbor

was the city's main lifeline.

Ships from the four corners

of the earth brought merchandise and provisions.

They also brought criminals

and crime, murder, robbery, burglary, kidnapping.

I thought I'd dealt with of them,

but in 1854, a silk clipper from the Orient burned

with a total loss of ship and cargo

and I was up against a new crime, barratry.

- Barratry?

- Yes, Mrs. Kimble, that's what it's called, barratry.

- I wish I understood these things better,

so I may use to try to explain them-

- Mrs. Kimble, barratry is any kind

of fraud committed by the captain of a ship

with the intention of benefiting himself

at the expense of the ship's owners or insurers.

- The insurer?

Well, I'm the insurer, aren't I?

- No, Mrs. Kimble, you are the agent

for the insurer.

Your late husband was the San Francisco agent

for the Seven Seas Maritime

Insurance Company of Philadelphia.

Since his death, you are the agent.

- I know that.

I just wasn't quite clear about barratry.

You'll forgive an old lady, won't you, Marshal?

- Of course, Mrs. Kimble.

But I would like to ask what brought you here.

- As Mrs. Kimble's attorney,

I'll answer that, Marshal.

We'd like to know what's being done

to apprehend the criminals that burned that ship.

- You tell me who they are, Mr. Pitt,

I'll be glad to apprehend them.

- That ship was burned 10 days ago.

It was the second one that was burned.

Now Mrs. Kimble's company is threatening

to replace her with another agent.

We want some action before the company suffers

any further loss.

Particularly, what has been done

to locate Captain Gregory?

- I'm expecting him momentarily.

- Well, Mr. Pitt, Captain Gregory's such

a nice man.

I just can't believe he had anything to do with it.

- I'm afraid he did, Mrs. Kimble.

I received a message from him saying

he wanted to turn state's evidence.

- State's evidence?

(door opens)

- Well, Captain Gregory,

you could have come in the other door, you know.

- Three men were following me.

Mrs. Kimble, I'm glad you're on hand

to hear what I have to say.

(gun fires)

(dramatic music)

- Captain Gregory, what did you want to tell me?

* California

* California

- [Narrator] The Californians.

* In California

* I've come to live where life is best *

* In the golden west

* I'm gonna strike it in California *

* California

Well, it's more than barratry now, it's murder.

- How awful.

Marshal, may I post a reward

for the killer, $1,000?

- Surely if you wish.

Sherman, you're working

for a very generous employer.

- The address of my establishment monsieur.

Your portrait will be ready tomorrow

and the lady will be as beautiful

as life, ravishing, huh.

(speaking foreign language)

- Did you tell them tomorrow, Pop?

- Mm, oui, tomorrow.

- [Son] We have 10 ahead of that one.

- Hello, Frenchy.

- Monsieur Wayne, au revoir, so nice to see you.

Armand, Marshal Wayne.

- Hello, Mr. Wayne.

Pop, we can't possibly have it ready tomorrow

unless we work all night.

- And then we will work all night.

Business is wonderful, just wonderful

thanks to you, Marshal.

- Good, I'm glad to hear it.

Hey, Frenchy, did you see anybody come out

of that alley in the last few minutes or so?

- Alley?

Oh, alley, no, I don't know.

- Sure somebody came out, Pop,

don't you remember, he spoiled a picture.

- Oui, yes, this is correct.

- What'd he look like?

- I'm making a photograph of a beautiful lady.

I should be looking at a man?

- Look, Frenchy, there's been a killing.

Maybe the man who came out of the alley

might be the murderer.

What'd he look like.

- I did not notice, monsieur.

Really.

- All I saw was his back, Mr. Wayne.

He hopped into a wagon and drove off

like he was going to a fire.

- Thanks.

Say, what'd he do that spoiled a picture?

What happened?

- I am, monsieur.

I am posing the young lady and gentleman here.

Armand is preparing the plate

and he puts it right here.

The lady and gentleman, they hold very still

and I (imitating popping) expose them.

Oh, she is very lovely.

Look, from out of the alley,

all of a sudden pops up this (speaking foreign language)

and he ruins my photograph in the background,

so I make a new one.

- What'd you do with the one that was spoiled?

- It's in the wagon (speaking foreign language)?

- Could you develop it for me by the way?

- Anything for you, monsieur, anything.

- But Pop, we have a dozen orders to fill

all by tomorrow.

- What kind of talk is this, huh?

Who give us our first start when we come here?

Huh?

Who find us this shop

with a cellar for a dark room?

Who sent us our first customer?

If he wants a spoiled picture,

he shall have a spoiled picture.

Why do you want a spoiled picture?

- Maybe it'll show the man who spoiled it.

- Hey, Pop, maybe it will.

- Perhaps it will.

- Come on, let's go, Pop.

- Please, don't call me Pop.

I am your Papa, no?

Then call me Papa.

- But this is America, not Paris.

- Pop, pop, pop, pop,

it's sound like the the Fourth of July.

Eh, this spoiled man.

(gentle music)

- Pop, I think we've got it.

- Mm-hmm, radiant.

One more soup's on with mercury baker.

And now the apple sulfite of soda.

Will you bring the lamp, please.

Voila.

- That's too bad.

Apparently he turned to look back in the alley just

as you snapped it.

- I am truly disappointed my friend.

- You got him, all right.

Too bad his head is blurred.

- Yes, but there is one thing

that you heave learned at least.

You see, he wore striped pants

with a patched knee.

- [Armand] Every stevedore on

the waterfront wears pants like that

and probably half of them are patched.

- He's right Frenchy.

Well, just didn't pan out, did it?

- Well, look, I will take more pictures.

Believe me, my friend, eh?

Along the docks I will photograph everyone

that wears a striped pants.

We will find him mon ami.

- Well, Frenchy, I don't think it'll prove anything,

but be sure and save that other picture for me.

- Oui.

(door closes)

- Come on, Pop, we've got a lot of work to do.

Let's get at it.

- Armand, what if this killer knew

that we had his picture,

but did not know it was blurred.

- What?

- You want to help Marshal Wayne, don't you?

- Well, sure.

- I have an idea.

Between us, we may find this killer for him, huh?

Come, your Pop will tell you.

(dramatic music)

- Whiskey, please.

Hear about the murder yesterday?

Ship captain got shot right in Matt Wayne's office.

Don't you know Matt Wayne, the Marshal?

My father's a photographer.

He accidentally got a picture of the killer.

My father figured that the killer might pay

a good price for that picture.

Look, if you told some of your customers,

maybe one of them would tell the killer.

Why don't you say something?

I spoke to some other bartenders

and they said they would.

Well, one of them did.

Marshal, Pop sent me over to tell you about our plan.

We're trying to help you catch the murderer.

- What plan, what do you mean?

- Well, I've been around to saloons talking

to bartenders telling them

that we've got a picture of the killer.

- That picture is blurred.

- Yeah, but I didn't tell them that.

I must have been to 50 places.

And if the killer does get the word,

all we have to do is wait for him

to come after the photograph and then grab him.

Well, it was Pop's idea, don't you like it?

- I wish people would leave police work to the police.

- Well, we thought it was good idea.

- What if the killer gets to your father

before I do?

- Oh. - Come on.

- Say, Matt, can't you send someone else?

You'll be needed at the harbor.

- You tend to your job, I'll handle mine.

- Yeah, but what about the silk clipper?

- Got the harbor double patrolled.

Besides, if I catch the man who killed Captain Gregory,

I'll have the barratry boys or won't I?

- Yes, I guess he will.

(dramatic music)

(bell ringing)

- Armand?

I am here Armand, down in the cellar.

(door closes)

- I hear you have a picture of me.

I want it.

- Monsieur, I assure you.

- You get me that picture, Frenchman. I want it now.

- Yes.

You see, the photograph is not good.

- Gimme.

Why, this does not even show my face.

- You see, I told you so.

It is of no danger to you.

- No.

But you are.

Now that you've had a good look at me.

Too bad, Frenchman.

(gun fires)

(furniture crashes)

(gun fires)

- Did you kill him?

- No, he's out cold.

Flesh wound.

I'll just lock him to this

and he won't go anywhere.

Now let's look at your father.

Sorry, Armand.

Your father's dead.

- Pop?

Pop.

Papa.

Pop.

- All right, so more stolen silk has turned up

in Sacrament and San Jose.

It merely proves what we already know.

That the cargoes were removed

before the ships were burned.

- I'm certain it was barratry.

Doesn't the Marshal understand the meaning of barratry?

That gang is specializing in robbing

the insurance companies.

Is the Marshal doing anything?

- Doing anything?

He's doing everything possible.

Nothing will happen to the new shipments,

you can bet on that.

- [Mrs. Kimble] Seems to me, Mr. Pitt, you're spending

a lot of time defending the Marshal's incompetence.

- Maybe you'd better hire

a better attorney, Mrs. Kimble.

- Maybe San Francisco should hire a new marshal.

My company's own investigator

is due here Wednesday from Philadelphia.

If he succeeds where Mr. Wayne failed,

I think I should see the mayor about having

your friend removed.

I really do, Mr. Pitt.

- Do you think Matt Wayne enjoys butting

his head up against a stone wall?

Frenchy Duclas was his friend.

- Mm, but he died for a picture

that had no value in the case.

Mr. Wayne said so himself.

Don't be so sure of that.

Matt captured Frenchy's killer

and sooner or later he'll make him talk.

- I sincerely hope so Mr. Pitt.

It's all so dreadful.

Good day, Mr. Pitt.

- Good day, Mrs. Kimble.

(door slams)

- You can come in again Mr. Tarbush, he's gone.

You heard?

- I heard.

- Now you see why I keep that numbskull as my lawyer.

He gives me a direct line

on whatever the police are doing.

- I've been thinking, Mrs. Kimble,

maybe I'd better take my share of the profits

and leave town for a while.

- Pull out of the deal?

- Matt Wayne's beginning to scare me.

- Let me tell you something, Mr. Tarbush.

We've got a fortune in this operation.

It may hit close to a million.

I need you in it.

You and your warehouse.

If you think you can weasel out of this

before it's over, think again.

- I still think we should move the stuff out

of my warehouse in case Wayne comes nosing around.

- Oh, don't be a fool.

Why should he be nosing around your place?

He doesn't even know you exist.

- Well, he's got that thug of yours locked up in jail.

What if he talks?

- Mr. Pitt isn't the only connection

I have at police headquarters.

I have somebody else there, too.

If that thug of our even starts to talk,

he'll get a bullet through his head

and so will Matt Wayne.

Goodbye, Mr. Tarbush.

(dramatic music)

- Marshal, if you've come here

to ask me who hired me, you're going to get

the same answers.

I ain't doing no talking.

Now why don't you go away and leave me alone.

- [Matt] Why don't you tell me who hired you

to kill Gregory.

- And who says I killed Gregory?

All you've got on me, Marshal,

is just for doing in that photographer.

- And you killed him to destroy

the evidence on the picture,

which proves that you murdered Gregory.

Now who hired you to kill him?

- Well, if I tell you,

will it keep me from getting my neck stretched?

- No deals with killers, Simes.

- Then I got nothing to gain by talking.

- All right.

I'm gonna turn you loose.

I'll spread the word that you did talk.

Your barratry boys won't like that.

Pretty soon you'll find yourself

at the bottom of the bay with an anchor chain

for a necktie.

Either way, you're a dead man.

- Well, Marshal, well, give me a chance

to make up me mind.

Well, all right, I'll tell you everything, Marshal.

Marshal!

(dramatic music)

No, no, don't, Marshal!

- Hey.

(gun fires)

- Apparently your friends couldn't wait

for an anchor chain.

Now you gonna tell me who hired you?

- Yes.

Yes, Marshal, I'll tell you.

It was Tarbush.

Tarbush hired me to kill Captain Gregory.

- Tarbush?

- Fred Tarbush, Pacific Warehouse.

- Oh.

- You look worried, Mrs. Kimble, anything wrong?

- Maybe, maybe not.

Who's in the warehouse?

- Nobody.

- I'll make sure.

My plan misfired.

Simes is still in jail and still alive.

- Has he talked?

- I doubt it or you'd be under arrest by now.

Has Wayne been here?

- No, and I'm not gonna wait for him.

I'm pulling out of here right now

and if you know what's good for you,

you'd better do the same.

- When I say so, not before.

- What if Simes tells what he knows.

- I'm saying he'll hold out for a while.

That's a chance we have to take.

I'm gambling on time to move the goods

where we can sell them later after we leave here.

Can you bring wagons and men here before midnight?

- Yes.

- I'll meet you here.

- Mrs. Kimble, it's too risky.

What do we do if Matt Wayne shows up?

- Shoot him.

(dramatic music)

- You need some light, Matt.

- Not till we're inside.

Wait here, warn us if anybody comes.

- What don't you just arrest Tarbush and be done with it?

- On the word of a hoodlum like Simes?

I want evidence to link Tarbush

to the barratry, as well as the murders.

- If there is evidence.

- Here.

Have a piece of candy, Mr. Pitt?

- Silk.

- When I open the loading door,

back your dray into the alley.

(floor squeaking)

(gentle music)

(door squeaking)

- [Matt] Jeremy, look at this.

- Ivory, and I was all set for lemon drops.

- Any ivory called for on the insurance invoice?

- Not much, on $12,000 worth.

- Whoever's in there, I want them caught.

You two go in by the alley door.

You come with us.

- Mrs. Kimble, you're a woman, you can't do that.

- I'm not going to let that million dollars slip

through my fingers.

(body thuds)

(dramatic music)

(door closes)

(gun fires)

(gun fires)

(dramatic music)

(gun fires)

(gun fires)

(punch strikes)

- Remind me to thank you when I'm not so busy.

(gun fires)

- Don't shoot, don't shoot, I give up.

I only did what Mrs. Kimble told me.

Her insurance company paid all the claims

and she got rich selling loot.

(gun fires)

- I want the $1,000 reward for Captain Gregory's murderer.

How are you gonna pay it now?

(dramatic music)

- [Matt] Here are your tickets to New York, Armand,

compliments of the insurance company.

- What I did was for Papa, Mr. Wayne.

- And furthermore, arrangements have been made

for you to serve as Mr. Brady's apprentice.

- Here's your letter of introduction to him.

- Imagine me, working with Matthew Brady,

the man that photographs presidents.

Wouldn't Papa be proud of me?

- I think he would Armand.

Matter of fact, I think he is.

(grand music)

* California

* Oh, I've traveled here, I've traveled there *

* I guess I've been most everywhere *

* But I like where I am today

* And here is where I'll stay

* Now one thing I just can't endure *

* Is being broke and being poor *

* So I come west to take the cure *

* And here is where I'll stay

* I've come to California

* California

* There's gold in them there hills in California *

* I've come to live where live is best *

* In the golden west

* I'm gonna strike it rich in California *

* California

* California

* There's gold in them there hills *

* In California

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