Original subtitles

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The official newspaper files of the early West record many of the famous and notorious characters of that period.

Born an Indian scout and cattle detective in the 1890s, was a likable, highly respected citizen,

until he turned against society and committed the sin of murder.

The Iron Mountain Country Wyoming at the turn of the century.

There they are.

Let her go.

♪♪

Don't let him stand, Pete.

Turn him. Turn him.

Not yet. They've blocked the pass.

Round up the cattle. Wait.

Come with me, son.

♪♪

You had no right to block that pass.

What's the idea of driving the cattle across my range?

This is public land, Stanton.

Public my eyes. Belonged to me for 30 years.

The homesteader law says a man can't claim over 160.

That fool law doesn't mean a thing, Livingston.

Get your cattle off.

Look, Stanton.

That pass that you just blew up is the only way we can get our cattle to the railroad to ship them east.

You and your son get your herd out of here. I'll do it for you.

You big guys have pushed us homesteaders around long enough.

Dad and I have got the law on our side.

We'll see if the pass is reopened.

The law? Let's see you enforce it.

We couldn't enforce the law a few years back.

But there's enough of us homesteaders now to organize.

Are you threatening me?

Dad, there's been enough talk.

Follow them. See that they clear out. I've got a little chore to do.

Hello, Tom.

Howdy, Mr. Stanton.

I hear you're leaving Cheyenne.

That's right.

There ain't a wrestler within a hundred miles of here.

You cleaned up this place too well, that's all.

It won't stay cleaned up. Not without me.

I don't know. Things are different now.

And I'm the guy who made them different.

Now I've got to move on or starve to death.

Maybe I've got a job for you.

What kind of a job?

Well, yesterday I passed to keep the homesteaders from moving their cattle across my...

I want you to keep it closed.

Sort of throw a scare into them.

How much are you paying?

Well, killing wrestlers is 600 a head.

These are homesteaders. I don't want anybody killed. I just want you to keep them in line.

How much?

75 a week.

You expect me to work for chicken feed like that?

Remember, Tom, this ain't the old days.

Yeah. I forgot that, didn't I?

All right. Put your offer in writing and I'll take it.

In writing?

I've changed too. Getting a little more businesslike.

I'll have it your way.

That good enough for you?

All right. I'll get on it right away.

Fine.

You don't have to mention this to anybody.

I won't.

See you around.

What's the idea of signing with him?

I thought we were going to Utah.

Not when there's going to be trouble between the cattlemen and the homesteaders.

While they're fighting each other, a smart wrestler could clean up.

What wrestler?

Toby, I'm sick and tired of fighting other people's battles and getting pennies for it.

You mean you?

Why not? I know every wrestling trick in the book.

I'll get those lord heads fighting among each other and show them wrestling like they've never seen before.

That sounds all right, but where does Stanton fit in?

As long as I'm working for him, he gets blamed for everything I do.

Now look, the homesteaders are going to have dinner.

I'm going to have dinner with them.

Now look, the homesteaders are going to have dynamite to open up the pass.

Keep your eye on the store and let me know when they get going.

Right.

The railroad had received complaints from the small ranchers around Iron Mountain

that they were being prevented from moving their herds to the railroad siding.

Frankie Adams and I were sent to investigate.

I'm Matt Clark, railroad detective.

Frankie's my partner.

This sounded like an ordinary routine assignment,

and we weren't expecting any trouble that a little talking couldn't straighten out.

Main Street

He's dead, Frankie.

It's no use, Matt.

Whoever did this has got too good a lead.

Why, he's just a kid.

Yeah.

I only wish we'd have gotten close enough to take a look at the man who shot him.

Murdering an unarmed boy just doesn't make sense.

Look.

Henry Livingston, Jr.

Livingston's one of the men who had trouble shipping his cattle.

Why would they want to kill his son?

I don't know.

This is a job for the sheriff.

Here.

I think it's the folks who found my boy.

Yeah.

Miss Adams, Mr. Clark, this is Henry Livingston.

Howdy.

I sent my boy into town after some dynamite.

The cattlemen knew we were going to reopen the pass.

They weren't after dynamite, sir.

Your boy was shot down in cold blood.

Was the killer tall, rather heavy-set in elderly?

Well, I'm not so sure about his age, and he wasn't too heavy.

They must have hired somebody.

Who are you talking about?

The only man who wanted to kill me was Stanton.

Sure.

You had words with Stanton.

But he was mad at you, not your son.

He must have thought Hank was me.

That's impossible, sir.

You have brown hair, the boy's is red.

He was wearing my old hat and shirt.

They couldn't see his hair.

When the wagon turned over, the boy lost his hat.

The killer couldn't have missed that red hair when he shot him.

You have a cattlemen's association here?

Yeah.

Who's the head of it?

Sam Clayton.

I'd like to see him.

Well, I can have him here by this evening.

That'll be fine.

I'll be back in a minute, Hunky.

Hey, why don't you want Tom Horne?

That you old bastard.

What are you doing in town?

Why don't you let me know?

How have you been?

Fine, just fine.

This town's swarming with detectives, isn't it?

The place is a mess, but you know me.

I'm out beating the dust all the time.

Frankie, let me take a look at you, gal.

Just as pretty as ever.

And look at that pretty red shirt.

Why, Tom, this is a green shirt.

You're still colorblind.

So it's green, then.

Just as beautiful as ever.

Say, this calls for a celebration.

I'm sorry, Tom.

We're on a case.

Now, what are a couple of brother detectives doing in town?

This is my territory.

There's a lot of trouble between the homesteaders and the big cattlemen.

Oh?

I heard there was some trouble between Livingston and Stanton last week,

but nothing came of it.

Livingston's son was killed this afternoon, Tom.

His kid?

They gunned him down on the way out of town.

That's right.

I saw the whole thing.

It was deliberate, Mer.

You were witnesses, then?

Yep.

You know, as a matter of fact, he's just about your size.

I hope you've got a good alibi, Tom.

Oh, you know me.

I've got an alibi for everything.

Now, when are we going to get together?

Well, just as soon as I have a talk with Stanton.

Frankie's going to be busy with the homesteaders.

How about tomorrow night?

Fine.

It's been good seeing you, Tom.

That's right, Frankie.

Hey, Tom.

I just found out a couple of detectives blew in town.

Yeah.

What's the matter?

Matt Clark, a friend of mine.

He says he saw Stanton down the street. Matt is a hoonet.

He wants you out of his place right away.

Yeah.

Well, ain't you going?

Sure.

Sure, we're both going.

Well, let's get started. It'll be dark soon.

Yeah, better get there before Matt does. He's smart.

I'd better get Stanton to talk.

You alone?

Yeah, send them all away.

What kept you so long?

I had a few things to attend to.

Such as killing some more 16-year-old kids?

What do you mean?

You know what I mean. You killed that boy.

Well, I was out to get his old man.

I guess my eyesight ain't what it used to be.

Anyway, the kid was packing dynamite to open up the pass.

I didn't hire you to kill anyone.

You were just supposed to scare those homesteaders into staying on their own land.

Now, don't say all that in that paper you signed.

Oh, you're trying to blackmail me, huh?

That's a kind of ugly word for it.

All right.

I'll give you $3,000 to get me back the paper and clear out of the country.

You know, I figure on a shooting war between the cattlemen and the homesteaders,

I could pick up a lot more than that.

How much do you want?

$20,000.

$20,000?

I'll raise my offer to $5,000 and that's it.

I said $20,000.

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Nobody knows I was working for Stanton.

I'll burn that paper he signs as soon as they get back to the office.

Let's get out of here.

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Out the back way.

We wouldn't have time to cover our tracks.

Get over by the desk.

When he comes in, blow out the lamp.

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Mr. Stanton?

Mr. Stanton?

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I better finish him off.

No.

No, believe it or not, he's an old friend of mine.

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Miss Adams, I want you to meet Sam Clayton,

head of the Cattlemen's Association.

How do you do?

Miss Adams, I don't think I can help you.

We don't much care for those homesteaders that are ruining our ranges.

Is Mack back yet?

No, he...

Here he comes now.

Matt, this is the man you want to talk to.

Howdy.

Sheriff Jim Stanton's been killed.

Stanton?

That's right.

Have you any idea who did it?

There was two of them.

They jumped me when I got there.

You saw them?

It was too dark.

I demand you arrest that homesteader, Livingston.

Now hold on, Sam.

Hold on nothing.

It's time those homesteaders were taught a lesson.

I'm not going to accuse anybody of murder without proof.

Sheriff's right.

Roberts, if you don't go after Livingston,

as head of the Cattlemen's Association,

I'll round up the rest of the members and we'll get them for you.

I'm willing to ride out and question Livingston,

but I ain't promising an arrest.

Is that clear?

All right.

I'll just get some of the boys and we'll ride along with you.

While Matt gives me the rest of the details,

will you fetch Tom Horn?

He'll want to be in on this.

Sure will.

What are you doing, burning the evidence?

Frankie, you know better than to sneak up on a man like that.

You know I always do that to my friends.

I came to tell you, what on earth happened to your face?

My face?

Looks like you were in a fight.

Well, as a matter of fact, there was.

I had a little argument with Dobie.

You must have come out second best.

You know me, I never lose an argument like that.

What was it you wanted to tell me?

Stanton's been murdered.

Murdered?

Yeah, Sheriff wants you over to the old Livingston place right away.

Well, let's see.

Do you think old man Livingston did it?

I don't know, I'm only delivering the message.

Tell the Sheriff to go right ahead.

I'll catch up with him in a few minutes.

Sure thing.

Oh, Tom, here I have on a pretty green dress and you didn't even notice it.

Only a gal would think of a dress at a time like this.

Well, you could have said something.

Well, it's a pretty green dress and you look mighty pretty in it.

Now get going.

That's all I wanted to hear.

Now I've got to talk to you.

We're all set to go, Frankie.

But this is important.

You got a lead or something?

I've got a lead, but no proof.

Horn showed up, we're ready to ride.

Something's come up, Sheriff.

I think I'd better stay here.

All right, get yourself.

Now, what is it, Frankie?

I think I know who committed those murders.

Who?

Well, it's...

It's Tom Horn.

Tom Horn?

Oh, you're crazy.

Remember when we agreed the Livingston boy's killing didn't make sense?

Particularly when the killer must have seen his red hair.

Yes, go ahead.

Well, Tom's colorblind.

What are you getting at?

To Tom, the boy's red hair would have looked dark.

And he was wearing his father's clothes.

Tom's not the only man in Cheyenne that could be colorblind.

What's more, you were in a fight with Sam's killer, weren't you?

Well, that's right.

Well, Tom was in a fight.

Well, that could be a coincidence.

Two of them.

But there's no motive.

Tom's been a friend of mine for years.

I've known him a long time.

I tell you, I just can't believe that.

I thought only women let their personal feelings interfere with their judgment.

Yeah, I guess I did say that.

Well, all right, Frankie.

I'll see Tom Horn the first thing in the morning.

I didn't sleep much that night.

I kept thinking about Tom and the things Frankie had said.

The more I thought, the more I knew she was right.

And I knew what I had to do.

I guess that's why I was late getting up.

Yeah?

Yeah, open the door.

Come on in.

It's unlocked.

What's the trouble?

The ranchers are riding against the homesteaders.

When the sheriff refused to arrest Livingston, they decided to take things in their own hands.

Anybody warn Livingston?

Yes, he gathered all the homesteaders.

It'll be an open-range war.

Where's the sheriff?

Downstairs.

With the town taking sides, he can't organize a posse.

All right, let's go.

Sheriff, do you have any idea where these two factions will get together?

Yeah, Clayton's men are meeting at his ranch in the homesteaders at Livingston.

They'll probably cross on the main road.

All right, let's go.

All right.

Take cover in the rocks.

There they are.

Look at them run for cover.

Check your guns.

We'll ride them down.

Come on, you range robbers.

If you want to fight, you're going to get it.

Hold your fire.

Put up your guns.

We'll settle this our own way.

Listen to me, men.

I know who did these killings, and it's not who you think.

Then who is it?

I haven't got the necessary proof yet.

I don't need time.

He's bluffing.

He don't know anything.

I'll make a deal with you.

Give me two hours, I ask.

Well, that's fair enough.

Well, what do you say?

All right.

I'll just ride along with you to see you're on the square.

Then I'm going along, too.

You men stay here.

If I'm not back in two hours, wipe out every homesteader in the valley.

All right, let's get back to town.

We've got to work fast.

Come in.

Hiya, Matt.

You want to see me?

Yeah.

Too bad we couldn't get together last night.

Too much excitement in town.

Yeah.

What's the trouble?

Aren't you going to offer me a drink?

Ask me to sit down?

You can sit down if you like.

Say, what is this?

Why did you do it, Tom?

Do what?

It wasn't as dark in that room last night as you thought.

So you recognize me.

Why did you do it, Tom?

You've always played it straight before.

Times change.

People change, too, I guess.

I don't know.

I just couldn't believe it at first.

Is that why you didn't tell the sheriff?

Yeah, I suppose so.

You going to tell him now?

I was kind of hoping you'd do that.

Well, it's not as bad as it looks, Matt.

I didn't kill Stanton.

Anyway, he went for his gun.

The Livingston boy didn't have a gun, Tom.

What did you say?

You heard me.

You murdered that boy in cold blood.

That's a lie.

You couldn't prove it.

I'm a detective, Tom.

I'm pretty good at proving things.

Matt, I swear I...

How does it feel to kill a 16-year-old boy?

Are you proud of yourself?

Did you charge a usual fee, or is it half price for kids?

Stop it!

Why should I?

It's the truth, isn't it?

It was an accident.

I didn't know it was the kid.

I thought it was this old man.

Does that stop it from being murder?

No, I guess it doesn't.

Matt, you've been bluffing me.

You haven't any proof.

I've got it now, Tom.

You admitted to killing.

That's not proof.

That would be your word against mine.

Get up your hands, Tom.

What?

I said get them up.

Who's going crazy or something?

Come on in, Sheriff.

You heard?

Yeah, everything, Matt.

Why, you dirty double-crosser.

Take his gun.

Ride on up with your hands.

I'll take care of everything from here on, Matt.

I'm sorry, Clayton.

I was wrong.

We were both wrong.

Come on, we better get back to the boys.

We both want to thank you, Mr. Clark.

What's the matter with him?

He and Tom Horn were the best of friends.

Oh, good, Horn.

Your plea for a stay of execution was turned down.

Here it is.

On the evidence obtained that day,

Tom Horn was brought to trial,

convicted of the murder of the Livingston boy

and sentenced to death.

His appeal to Governor Chatterton of Wyoming was denied,

and he was hanged November the 20th, 1903.

Today, Tom Horn lies buried in the old graveyard

at Boulder, Colorado.

A man who worked long and well on the side of the law,

then for some reason turned criminal

and tried to undo good he had accomplished.

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