All language subtitles for Special Agent 1946

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music)

- Railroading is a fascinating business.

Fascinating to everyone.

Small boys, anglers

that are whistle-stuck,

restless adolescents

that travel in public.

Yes, and fascinating even to

the railroad men themselves.

Every year the railroads

carry millions of passengers

and billions of dollars worth of goods.

We all know the engineer,

the fireman, the brakeman,

the conductor, the postal clerk.

But few of us know

anything about the great body

of trained men who guard

those millions of lives

and billions of dollars in

property by day and by night.

The railroad

detectives, they were organized

for the railroads long

before the Secret Service

or the FBI, the Ferns

operatives or the Pinkerdons.

For more than a hundred years,

the special agents have

tracked down train wreckers,

fold up men, hard

sharpers, baggage thieves

and all the other criminally minded

who prey on the railroads, their

passengers and their freight.

In crowded cities, the

job is usually exciting

for something is always doing.

And in the freight yards too,

where thieving is a favorite pastime

of the neighborhood hoodlums.

But in the out of the way places,

the routine can be a boring grind.

One, the old timers

are anxious to escape.

And it is to these

more or less quiet spots

that the new recruit is sent.

But they also serve who stand and wait.

In the afternoon of May

9th, 1940, in Santa Marta,

a division headquarters in California,

investigators Johnny

Douglas was one such recruit

who stood and waited.

The board wondering if

anything would ever happen

to relieve the monotony.

- Tired, don't know what.

- Nothing, that's why I'm tired.

- Well, if it didn't

smile and Johnny Douglas,

people's protector.

- Listen.

- What is it?

- Thought I heard something.

- I'll get that way after a while.

I used to think I heard things too.

- I was positive I

heard the violent thrashing

of beans wings or maybe a wood tick.

I'm bored.

- Want to take any reports?

- What would I report?

Nothing ever happens in

Santa Marta, except you.

You know, you're the nicest

thing that's happened to me

since I was sentenced

to this Devil's Island.

You and Jake and Pop Peters and Mabel

Rumper and her two kids.

You know, come to think of

it quite a few nice things

that happened to me since I've been here.

- Well, you could be in worse places.

At least it's seen me, it's wonderful.

- I love it.

Want a cup of coffee?

- Again?

- I'll do something to stay awake.

- Oh, well, I give this to my boyfriend.

I forgot it on purpose as usual.

- You're gonna stop

pampering that youngster

and stop spoiling me.

- Haven't missed seeing

him all since I was three.

- Yes, I should have been an engineer.

(footsteps)

- Hello, Lucy and John.

- Hello, Mr. Jones.

Tell Mr. Jones I'll send

that rug padded back next week.

- No hurry.

Well, Pop, see you in Eltonville.

- Yeah.

- Thought you were smart, didn't you?

You leave this on.

- Oh, for heaven's sakes, Lucy.

- See that he wears it, Jake,

and don't let him stick

his head out of the cab.

- Just leave him to me, Lucy.

I'll see that he behaves.

What am I gonna do with her, Johnny?

- Don't look at me, Pop.

I'm a very happy man.

Why don't you trade her in?

- Oh, had her too long.

No trade in value.

- Listen, you're crazy

about me in the middle.

And I meant what I said about the scarf.

- I'd wear a rattlesnake around my neck

if you told me to.

Johnny, if anything ever happens to me,

you look after everybody.

- I've been trying to take her off your

hands for six months.

She's partial engineers, though.

- Listen, one helpless male

is about all I can manage at a time.

(laughs)

Bye, Pop. - Bye, Pop.

- Goodbye, honey.

- Bye, Johnny. - Bye, kids.

- Bye. - Bye.

- Well, what's the matter, Mabel?

He forget it again.

- He'd forget his head if

it wasn't hooked on him.

Jake, your lunch.

- Well, well, if it

ain't that Rumper woman.

How do you do, Mrs. Rumper?

A couple of

nice-looking kids you got there.

- Well, you get down here

and kiss these nice-looking kids goodbye.

- All right.

(door opens)

(groans)

- I'll claim that one all right.

But you, why, you look like a ringer.

You ain't no Rumper.

- With cold dust on his face,

he couldn't be nothing else.

Go on, kiss him.

After all the years, you ain't cold dust.

Another mouthful won't hurt you, any.

- Hard.

Now, you stick to soft cold, son,

and you can fire a boiler twice as fast.

Goodbye, pet.

- Bye.

- You be good boys.

- Bye. - Bye.

- Bye. - Bye.

- Bye, honey.

(car engine rumbles)

- I wonder if you'd have that look in your eyes

for me if I went away, huh?

- Try it and see.

- Oh.

- On that morning in early May,

old number six, a combination

freight and local passenger,

fought the Twin Peaks grade

as she had been doing for years.

There was no sense of danger,

no premonition of disaster.

To engineer Peters and fireman Rumpler,

it was just another routine trip.

As it was to mail Clark Simmons,

who was calmly at work sorting the mail,

the presence of two large registered people,

the presence of two

large registered mailbags,

containing among other things,

a hundred thousand dollar payroll,

didn't bother him in the lease.

In the day, coach,

the passengers idle the time

away in reading or talking,

or in the case of the young couple

who looked like they were

on their way to get married,

holding hands.

- Magazines, oranges, nice fresh oranges,

apples, we better get

something to know, our folks.

We're coming to a settle.

- True, true.

(engine rumbling)

- A few moments later,

number six entered tunnel 13.

She was moving slowly on

account of the steep grave,

and judging by the smoke

that poured from the smokestack,

fireman Jake Rumpler was giving her

everything she had taken.

(dramatic music)

(train clanking)

The train came to a stop

with the passenger coach

still inside the tunnel.

There were no flares on the track,

no visible reason for stopping.

- This is the first time we

ever stopped in this tunnel.

You must have a pull of the engineer.

- What are we stopping here for?

- What's wrong, Joe?

- I don't know, I'm

going back to set a flare.

(plane rumbling)

- Hold it backwards.

- Set the emergency

brakes, I'll go forward.

(dramatic music)

(train clanking)

(gun firing)

(dramatic music)

(train clanking)

(dramatic music)

- He's a runaway, partner number six.

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music)

- At 2.45 that afternoon,

Bill Olmsted, division superintendent,

received the breakies call

in his office at Santa Marta.

- Hold the line.

- Ms. Peters, Lucille, tunnel 13.

Where's Johnny Douglas?

Send him in here right away.

- Johnny?

- The engine and the mail car.

Here's Johnny Douglas now.

He's been an accident for

number six at tunnel 13.

Get the details.

- Douglas speaking.

Yeah, go ahead, Lolo, give it to me.

Yeah, Simmons, the mail car.

Yeah, Jones too, huh?

Yeah, we'll get there as soon as we can.

Olmsted will order a

wrecking crew down to Meltonville.

Back number 18 up on the

siding so we can get through.

Yeah.

Okay.

Lolo was reporting from the junction.

Cars broke loose from number six.

He went back to the tunnel

where the explosion occurred

and found the mail car

blown open and robbed.

Two mail sacks with $100,000 is missing.

- What is the time?

It's your dad.

- He's dead.

- Yeah.

The Enronpla both, along

with Simmons and Jones.

- Oh, thank you. - Oh, I'm sorry, honey.

- All right, Johnny.

Things do happen at

Santa Marta, don't they?

- Somebody has to tell Maple Rumpter.

- It's up to you now, Johnny.

- Yeah.

- Give me an engine as quickly as

possible, all right?

Give me Chief Special Agent Wilcox.

- Wilcox is ready for

just such an emergency.

While still listening to details of the

robbery and killing,

he starts alerting all

agencies at his disposal.

All special agents and

investigators are notified

within a radius of 100

miles of Santa Marta.

The Post Office Department,

the Railway Express Company

are notified too, and the FBI.

A special plane, meanwhile, makes ready

to transport Wilcox,

postal inspectors and

express company detectives

to Santa Marta, where

they will join Johnny Douglas

in the greatest criminal manhunt

in the history of California railroading.

- Okay, great, all righty, Johnny.

We're not back by the time

Wilcox and his men get here.

Have them set up.

- What happened, Mr. Douglas?

- Number six was held up.

Your husband, Pop Peter, Simmons, and

Jones were all killed.

That's all we know

right now, Miss Rumpter.

I'm going out there.

I'll talk to you when I get back.

- I'm going with you.

- You can't help Jake out there.

- I'm sorry, Mabel.

- I'm going to be with him.

Johnny's right, Mabel.

We'll get the children going tonight.

(Mabel giggling)

(Jenny barking)

- Sheriff here.

Here, Johnny.

Only I can't swear for these hounds.

They haven't been worked

lately, and the predators

are plain lazy.

- What happened, Johnny?

All right?

- Yeah, Jake.

- All right.

- Let us go with you, Johnny.

- No, not this time, Jake.

I think you'd better run along.

You want to look at more, won't you?

- Okay, Jake, make an

order by the end, Jake.

(Jenny humming)

(knocking)

- Rumpter, Rumpter.

- Rumpter.

(Jenny barking)

(Jenny humming)

(thunder rumbling)

- You better stay here

with the coroner, Doc,

and look after the body.

Come on, Sheriff.

(dramatic music)

- You better not.

- Just a chance there's

still some fingerprints on it.

- They must have known number six

slows to a lap in the tunnel.

There are a lot of

footprints around here,

but only two sets leading up the hill.

- Yeah, well, it wouldn't

have taken more than two

to handle the job.

Let me see, one of them

could have stood here.

The other could have hopped aboard

in the middle of the tunnel,

maybe dropped down in the engine cab

on the top of the east entrance there.

Yeah, that's a trail, all right.

Well, you better put those dogs on it

while it's still fresh.

- Right.

- Run him down this hill tomorrow

and wait for Wilcox and the gang.

We'll see you back there later.

- Gotcha, Johnny.

(dogs barking)

- Take him up on the hillside there, Rup,

and turn him loose.

(dogs barking) (dramatic music)

(dogs barking)

- Well, they had something hid out here,

the car most likely.

(dogs barking)

There was a car, all

right, those tracks are fresh.

- Right, Johnny.

- There's a logging

camp around here once,

maybe that's all they

know about the road.

Well, those dogs won't do much good,

you better put them on the leash.

- Right.

Okay, Pete, you take

the dogs and follow us.

We may need them again later.

- Okay, Pete, we're getting some shake.

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music)

- That broken flume was

something I hadn't counted on.

- I bet somebody did some

fancy cussing around here.

- When I took everything with them,

they must be pretty heavily loaded.

- No registration certificate.

- It's probably a stolen car anyway.

Better take the engine number, though,

or wear it on to Sacramento.

- Sure.

- Write this down, Max.

(door slams)

- Eight, two, three, five, nine, seven.

Find anything?

War and peace, tall story.

Now, what do you make of that?

- Not exactly the kind of literature

you'd expect ordinary

train bandits to read, huh?

- Not at all.

- Well, obviously, we're

not dealing with ordinary men.

This is very well thought out robbery.

In the haven bookshelf.

Quite true and interesting.

- We have a mighty fine fingerprint man

down at the county secret.

- Well, bring him around in the morning.

Better bring us dogs or two.

I want his trucks out in every angle.

- Sure thing.

(dogs barking)

- Well, here are the dogs.

Might as well see what they pick up.

What came in?

We'll take it on foot from here.

You stay here and watch these horses.

Just in case those

colors decide to double back.

We don't want to be

caught on the wrong end

of a trick or something.

(dramatic music)

(dogs barking)

- Now it still looks like

there were only two of them.

- They'll keep you the

water one way or the other

to lose their trail.

- Yeah, right.

It's getting late.

I gotta get back to

Santa Marta to meet Wilk.

Nothing turns up or pick up the trail

here in the morning.

- Just as you say,

Johnny, this is your show.

- Better set some underbrush

around here pretty carefully.

- Chance may have dropped their packs

so they'll travel light and max.

- We'll go over every inch of her

until it gets dark anyway.

- Which isn't going to be far off.

- Better get going.

- Max, you work upstream.

Charlie, you work down.

Okay, Pete, turn a little.

(dramatic music)

(dogs barking)

- This way, lady.

Here, lady.

Get on in.

- It's a horrible

hunt for trucking humans.

When used up a hunt in Bobcat and such,

they forget what they're after.

(dogs barking)

- Come on now, behave yourself.

We haven't worked.

(dogs barking)

- So far, except for the

engine number of the car,

which I've had

teletyped on to Sacramento.

- Sacramento won't be in much help.

Experienced crooks can

change engine numbers

as easily as phone numbers these days.

- The tarp must have been

used to keep the dynamite dry.

- Now, the whole setup was

planned and executed carefully.

They knew the country well.

They also knew there'd

be a $100,000 payroll

in those registered sacks.

How?

It's the first time that payroll

had ever gone as registered mail.

This is how Chief looked.

- Clem Bartlett, custodian

of the Aster Mining Company

payroll for more than 20

years, makes his last trip.

Next month, the job will

be taken over by Uncle Sam

when the payroll goes by registered mail.

All laid out like a blueprint, isn't it?

- Sure is.

They knew that exactly

one month from that date,

April 9th, there'd be

another payroll shipment.

And as for which train it went on.

I don't know whether you

folks knew Dan Simmons,

the mail clerk who was

killed today, but I did.

That's him standing on the

door next to old man Bartlett.

- Admitted that soon

she'd check the train.

- What paper was it?

- Ronson Herald, library stamps on.

- Well, that's a lead, Johnny.

- This is Sheriff Babcock, men.

Sheriff, this is Chief

Special Agent Wilcox.

- Hi, Sheriff.

- Hostal Inspector Slade,

railway detective Benton.

Well, Sheriff.

- No luck, Johnny.

We followed the stream

both ways until it got so dark

we couldn't go any further.

They hadn't come out of the stream yet.

- Well, pick up where you

left off tomorrow morning.

- Sure will, but I'm afraid the trail

will be cold by then.

I'm glad you met you, men.

- Good luck, Sheriff.

- Thus, the manhunt began.

And while the man who

were to do the hunting

sat glumly staring at

the meager evidence.

The hunted sought refuge

in a deserted mineshaft

some 12 miles distant.

Johnny Douglas was right.

The men who committed the

crime had planned carefully

and the hideout in the

mineshaft had been prepared

especially for just such an emergency.

These were the Devereaux

brothers, Edmund and Paul.

- I'm a step and I don't

think I could have made it in.

I'll give you a drink as

soon as I light the latch.

(dramatic music)

- Now light still and

I'll find your ankle.

There, rest your head on that.

- Easy, easy, Ed.

It hurts like the Red Dental.

(Ed laughs)

I better tell you when.

Ready?

- Paul!

- Probably swollen, but...

I don't think it's broken.

Just a bad sprain.

I'll take a note.

This is what I meant when I said

we might need this place

in case anything went wrong.

We could hide out here

for a month if we had to.

- Yeah.

Hadn't meant for this ankle,

we could have brought the

other male sack with us.

- Forget it, kid.

Wasn't your fault, it was an accident.

- Then maybe for the best.

We lay low until the search drives down,

then we go back and

pick up the male sack.

Better?

- Yeah, not better Ed.

Only I, I only want Paul.

- I wish you hadn't killed those men.

You said we weren't

going to do any shooting.

I told you we wouldn't do

any shooting unless we had to.

- When you dropped your

mask and they saw your face,

there was nothing else I could do.

- Now forget it.

- I can't forget it.

Killing those men.

- Especially that old fellow.

He looked just like Grandfather Delano

or that old priest at the mission.

His face was so gentle and so kind.

- It was them or us, Paul.

And we've gone too far to be squeamish.

You heard Grandfather Devereaux.

He was shooting and killing

that took everything away

from our family in the old days.

You haven't forgotten Paul.

We swore we would make

the name of Devereaux

mean something again.

And we will too.

Everything's going to

turn out just as we planned.

You take a smoke while I

fix us something to eat.

Then we'll open the male sack.

- Okay.

(door opens)

- That's all.

How much do we have there?

- $1,126.

The payroll is in the other sack.

- That's all right.

Maybe it isn't such a

bad break after all.

- It's a safe place.

- Soon as things cool off,

we'll go back and pick it up.

- Meantime, we can get along on this.

- Uh-huh.

How long do you think

it'll be cooped up here?

- Who knows?

Maybe a week, two, three.

Until those railroad detectives

go back to pushing hobos around.

Anyway, it'll be that long

before you can walk again.

- I wasn't thinking myself, Ed.

I was worrying about Grandpa Devereaux.

- And Rose McCreary?

I told you to forget her.

Are we risking our

next to make a Devereaux

out of a Baba's daughter?

Are we?

- I don't know it.

I don't know what to think.

But you can't make me

believe that all this shooting

and killing and stealing

will ever get us anywhere.

- You're in for a lot

of false leads, Johnny.

You know the tricks

people's imaginations play on them.

The minute they read

or hear of this crime,

they'll remember a

thousand suspicious actions

by a thousand different people.

You'll get an awful lot of tips.

The worst of the days, you'll

have to run most of them down

in the hopes that one of

them will be worth something.

You wanted a job, Johnny.

Well, you've got it.

- Well, I don't mind.

I've got four good reasons for

wanting to capture these men.

- Lucy, of course.

- Yeah, a naval

rumpler and their two kids.

I'll keep in touch, Bill.

If anything happens,

just pass it on to me.

- Okay, Johnny.

- Well, goodbye.

- Go long, Johnny.

- Bye.

Anything I can do before I go?

- No, all arrangements have been made.

General services will be

held for all four of them.

- I'm sorry I can't be there, honey.

You understand?

- Of course.

It's gonna be kinda low to

know about you and your dad.

- Well, I'll be back as soon as I can.

Why don't you ask

Olmsted for a few days off?

- No, I'd rather work.

I'll feel much better in

thinking that I have a little part

in running down those men.

- Maybe it's better that way.

How's Mabel holding up?

- All right.

Seems kinda strange

though not to hear a laugh.

- The boys?

- Thought it was awful challenges, Paul.

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music)

- Three and a half hours later,

Special Agent Douglas

arrives on the campus

of the University of California

to enlist the aid of Dr. Jerome Bowen,

Associate Professor of Legal Chemistry,

and one of the foremost

criminologists in the country.

- Well, that's it, Dr.

Bowen, the whole works.

What do you think?

- War and peace.

Interesting side-light

on character analysis.

Just remember that.

However, you better run this down.

And this.

Gotta take those along too.

The rest you can leave with me.

- How long do you think it'll take?

- How long do you think

it'll take me to correlate

all these scraps of evidence?

Well, not during my lunch hour.

- Well, if you could

only give us some idea.

We're pretty well stymied

until you dope this out.

- Two weeks, maybe three.

But I'll get in touch with

it the minute we're finished.

Don't worry.

- We'll try to be patient.

Thanks a lot.

- Wilcox proved that he

knew what he was talking about.

Superintendent Armstead

received hundreds of calls

from all parts of the state.

He sifted the calls

and relayed on to Johnny

the ones which he

thought were worth checking.

A woman who ran a

grocery store in Brookville

recalled selling a

slab of bacon to two men

who were dressed like lumberjacks.

A hardware store proprietor in Sunrock

remembered selling two

boxes of 30-30 rifle shells

to two men dressed as lumberjacks,

but his description

didn't tally with the woman's.

The first bit of tangible evidence

came from the bookstore in Lindhaven,

where the proprietor

remembered selling the book

some two months

previous to one of two men

who came into his store.

- I remember, because we

rarely saw a book of this type.

It isn't exactly what

you call popular reading.

- Can you remember what they looked like?

- Yeah, a little dark feature.

I remember wondering at

the time of the wee brothers.

- They bought their size.

One was tall, well-built, over six feet.

The other was slightly shorter.

- How are they dressed?

- In rough clothes with wool shirts

and the trousers tucked

into high-laced boots.

Well, they had cleats on the boots, too,

like the lumberjacks were here.

Look what they did to my floor.

- Can you remember

anything else about them?

Any physical deformity or peculiarity

that might make them noticeable?

- No, I'm afraid I can't.

- Did you see what kind

of a car they were driving?

- I'm sorry, I didn't.

They went out and I

paid no more attention.

- You've given us the

first bit of real evidence

we've had so far, not much, a little.

Much obliged, do you?

- Oh, don't mention it,

only to grant the help.

Oh, I might add that the

men who I sold the book to

didn't strike me as the type

who'd hold up trains or commit murders.

- There's no specific type of criminal.

The one person in the

world you'd least suspect

could turn out to be a murderer.

- Well, thanks again.

- Like the bookstore

proprietor in Lindhaven,

she, too, remembered the two men

because they had damaged the floor

with the cleats of their heavy boots.

- Well, I'll tell you, it was

hardly more than three weeks

after it was laid.

I was never so disgusted

with anything or anybody

in all my born days.

There, just look at that.

Isn't that an outrage, Mr. Douglas?

- I don't think anyone would have so

little consideration

for public property.

Tance, my assistant, saw them get up.

There were two of them, you

know, and she came to tell me.

But by the time she

found me, I was in sociology

doing research for the coming twins.

But naturally, Tance had

no way of knowing that.

They were on their way out the door.

Oh, if only I could have

gotten my hands on them.

- Those two men were

murderers, Miss Tannehill.

- Murderers?

- Yes, they tore that

page from your files

and used the knowledge they

found in it to hold up a train.

- Oh, think I came

out here being murdered.

- What did they look like?

- My own.

They wore flannel shirts and

jeans and denim jackets, too.

They looked like lagers or cow hands.

Lagers most likely, on account of the

cleats in their shoes.

Still, on the other

hand, they wore cowboy hats.

Oh, my, to think I came that near death.

Oh, my, my, I have a notion to resign.

If it wasn't for my

sister and my invalid mother,

I'd do the care.

I think if I was--

- Thanks a lot.

Then that night, when

Douglas contacted Santa Marta,

he learned from

Olmstead that a gas station

attended in Los Portas.

Remembered the car and the two men in it.

- Yes, sir.

I put gas in that old jalopy.

- Let me see.

Wednesday.

- No, Tuesday a week ago.

There were two men in that car.

Looked enough alike to be brothers.

- Thanks a lot.

- After two weeks of exhaustive search,

Johnny returned to

compare notes with Dr. Bowen.

- From the overalls,

I learned a good deal.

For instance, here.

Look at that.

Wood fibers, both hardwood and bark.

The owner of those overalls

worked in the logging camp.

And here is another.

Now, black hair.

Now, note the size of this garment.

From this and other factors,

I'd say a suspect is about six feet two,

weighs around 195 pounds,

deeply tanned, has black hair,

and looks something like this.

Now, suspect number

two is slightly smaller.

Weighs around 180 pounds,

and is about six foot one in height.

His hair is a shade

lighter than the other man's,

but it's still dark.

He's probably younger and

looks something like this.

Now, judging from the

striking similarity between hair

and bits of epidermis

found in the clothing,

and other factors I need to go into,

I'd say these two men are brothers.

- Now, I've come to the

same conclusion, Doctor,

of the descriptions given to me

by various people I've interviewed.

- I see you just wanted to

see what I'd cook up, eh?

- That's right.

Anyway, the descriptions

jive pretty closely with yours,

and that's the important thing.

They were looking for two men

who might possibly be

brothers, and who look alike.

- I've got something else here.

Here, take a look at that.

- Oh, looks like grains of salt.

- It is salt, found in

the pocket of the overall.

- Salt. - Self-exalt,

type used by ranchers

as salt licks for cattle.

- Then our suspects were not only

employed as lumberjacks,

but quite possibly at one time or another

could have worked on a cattle ranch.

- I'm certain that

inquiries at logging camps

and cattle ranches will

lead to the identification

of these two men.

- Still in big order.

- Although Johnny Douglas

didn't know it at the time,

that was the turning

point in the Devereaux case,

three grains of salt.

(dramatic music)

- All right, well, come here, let's see.

- I'll tell you so.

Why don't you leave that here?

- All right, I think it's

been just about enough killing.

- Still worried about

those train men, aren't you?

- Forget it.

- Wish I could, Edmond.

- If we get separated, I'll

meet you at the bus station

in Los Porcos.

Come on, we'll pick up the mail sack

and be out of the mountains by daybreak.

- Okay. - Watch your foot.

- Yeah.

- This is about it.

- Tree must be over there.

- Let's go.

- Hey, fellas.

- Go in. - No, go.

(gun fires)

(somber music)

- What'd you shoot him for, Ed?

- I had to, he saw our faces.

- He wasn't after us, just a trapper.

- How would you know?

- Listen, we've gotta get out of here.

These hills are still full of searchers.

This guy was probably one of them.

- I don't know about the money.

- We haven't time for that now.

It's safe for what it is, come on.

(somber music)

- Two tickets to all this plastic.

- Let's have a cup of

coffee while we're waiting.

- Why not?

- The Devereaux brothers did not go

through to Delcplats

that night around 10 o'clock.

They dropped off the bus at Highwater,

about 60 miles south of Santa Marta.

There they left the highway

and cut across open fields

to the old Devereaux Ranch,

a once proud domain in the

heart of the cattle country.

- Hey, Ed, look, someone's at the house.

Let's go. - In the bright moonlight,

the old ranch house

with its sagging fences

and overrun yards looked

like a once beautiful woman,

grown old and slatternly.

- It's like Frank Kenser, the Roanhorse.

You know him, Ed.

He's the foreman over Roger Rosita.

You suppose he's doing it?

- He'd better not be putting the pressure

on Grandfather Devereaux again, or I'll--

- I'd take it easy.

- I'd love shooting.

Come on, let's get out of here.

- You can threaten me all you like,

but you can't frighten me.

Devereaux cattle have

been watering Meets Creek

for 100 years, and

it'll continue to do so.

- But you don't seem to

understand, Mr. Devereaux.

That land doesn't

belong to you any longer.

You have no right to

run your cattle there.

- It will be mine again.

Once the old tax monies are paid up,

you'll go back and tell

those upstarts at Rosita

they'll be crawling

out their hands and knees

before I get through with them.

They'll be banking me for water

when that land is mine again.

Now go on, you get out of here.

Go on.

- Paul.

- Padman.

- Hello, Grandfather.

- Come on, bed your home.

(speaking in foreign language)

What are you doing up so late?

- Isn't it past your bedtime?

- God bless, the

foreman from Rosita was here.

- We saw him leave.

What's the trouble?

- This same old argument.

We have no right to

the land or to the water

where our cattle feed and drink.

They speak the truth.

That's the hard pill to swallow.

There was a time when

they wouldn't dare speak

to a devil in such a

manner, even if it were the truth.

- The time isn't far off

and that land will be

yours again, Grandfather.

We're going to buy it back.

Right, Paul?

- Yes, and we're

working it out now, Granddad.

- Well, that's impossible.

It will take a great deal of money.

You mean that you really accomplished

what you went to San Francisco for?

- That's right, Granddad.

The banks are gonna loan us the money.

- Aren't they, Ed?

- All fixed up, Grandfather.

We're going back in a few

weeks and pick up the money.

Then watch out for the devro smoke.

- I can't believe it.

I can't believe it.

- Naturally, it took a

few signatures on our note,

but we finally got your

old friend, Verdugo, to sign.

And from then on, it was easy sailing.

- My old friend,

Verdugo, after all these years,

I told you he would remember.

Would it be enough to buy back to me,

treat property and stock it?

- Enough and more, too.

We'll fly high and fancy, Grandfather.

We'll have $100,000.

- A hundred thousand dollars?

- But that,

that's apogee, boys.

That calls for a drink.

Such a good look calls for a drink.

Can you imagine?

We're going to have the old ranch

who outdoes want us back again.

It's going to live again.

Here, boys.

Here, here, to the, to the old,

to the old ranch who outdoes want us.

Here, boys.

- For then a week now,

Johnny Douglas had been moving

in an ever narrowing circle

with Santa Marta as the pivotal point.

Three little grains of Calyx salt

and a few wood bark fibers

were all the leads Douglas had to work on

as he went from lumber

camp to cattle ranch,

trying to identify the composite drawings

of the two men prepared by Professor Boy.

Men seldom stayed long on these jobs.

They came and went and

few questions were asked.

Foreman were glad to get help

and didn't bother much about

a man's family connections,

where he came from or whether or not

he was drawing his pay

under an assumed name.

Then, just from the

weight of discouragement,

rested heaviest on

Johnny Douglas' shoulders,

that three little grains of salt paid off

with startling suddenness.

- Anything serious, Mr. Douglas?

- Train robbery and murder.

- You don't shave.

- You want me, Mr. Travis?

- Oh yes, Frank, this is Mr. Douglas.

This is my foreman, Frank Kent.

- How do you do?

- Mr. Douglas is looking for two men

who were wanted for a

train robbery and murder.

He has reason to

believe that their brothers

have been working as

lumberjacks and cowhand.

Look, ever see two men

who resemble these sketches?

- Well, of course, it'd have to be them.

- You mean you recognize them?

- I wouldn't want to put a rope around

the wrong man's neck,

but I'd swear these two men

are the Devereaux brothers.

- By Jove, I think you're right.

At least they fit the description.

- The Devereaux boys work for him?

- Oh, they have occasionally.

- Well, their grandfather used to own

most of this country around here.

He lost it through bad

management, one thing or another.

Old man's pretty hard-headed.

Boys are just like him.

- Well, they didn't

hesitate to shoot four men

down in cold blood.

That would be Edmund, the oldest.

He's just like the old man,

fight at the drop of a hat.

- He'll come to their gate

about four miles down the road

and see what there is left of it.

- How much of lies, dear?

- Well, you'd better go on into town

and get some help from the sheriff.

He'll never take those

Devereaux boys who are out of fight.

- Thanks for the tip.

I'm not trying to be a dead hero.

How far is it to the next town?

- Glenby's about 12

miles straight up number 62.

- Oh, by the way, don't say anything

about this to anyone, will you?

I'm a lazy hunter.

I'll take sitting ducks any time.

- 20 minutes later, the sheriff in Glenby

was rounding up his deputies.

- Hey, Bert, come on, we got a job.

- What's up?

- Sheriff's getting up a posse to pick up the Devereaux boys.

[sirens]

- Mr. Devereaux.

- Hello, Rose.

You're just in time to give me a hand.

You see, this is the map of

the original grant received

by my family from the King of Spain.

- Mr. Devereaux, where's Paul and Ed?

- There must be somewhere around.

Why?

What's the matter?

Something wrong?

- Well, that's what I came to find out.

Call him, please, and hurry.

- You frightened me.

What's the matter?

Paul!

Ed!

Paul!

Ed!

Yes, what is it?

- Rose McCrary's here.

She's-- she wants to see you both of you.

- She acts like it was important.

- I told you to keep her away from here.

- Listen Ed, we've played

everything your way so far.

When it comes to Rose, I do as I please.

- Come on, little dog.

- Mm-hmm.

- Hello, Rose.

- Hello, Paul.

Started combusting in on you like this,

there's something you ought to know.

- What's under it?

- One of Sheriff Dotson's deputies came

running into the barber

shop a little while ago

and called out for training.

I heard him say the sheriff was getting

up a posse to pick up the Devereaux boys.

What is it, Paul?

Why should the sheriff want you and Ed?

- You didn't get into trouble in San

Francisco, did you, boys?

- Well, yes, we did.

There was an argument for some shooting.

- You did the shooting, Ed.

- All right, I did the shooting.

For self-defense.

- Listen.

- Stop copying.

- They're after us, Paul.

We've got to run for us.

There's no time for

explanations now, Grandfather.

We've got to get out of here.

Come on, and don't be

afraid to use that gun.

- I didn't touch you at all, Ed. - We'd better separate.

I'll meet you in the mine

shaft a week from today.

- Let him go. - Let him hurt. [gunshots]

- Come on, Devereaux.

Okay, he's going to go.

- My fault.

All my fault is they're not to blame.

I filled their heads with the crazy ideas

about making the name of

Devereaux mean something again.

If it hadn't been for me, they would

never have done such a terrible deed.

I still can't believe they would do it.

The fact that they ran away is pretty

conclusive evidence of their guilt.

Have you a recent

photograph of your grandson's?

- Most of them.

I have a snapshot they sent me

from a logging camp last winter.

- That'll do fine. Thanks.

Any luck?

- No, I'm sorry, Mr. Douglas, but we'll

have to have horses to follow him.

- I'll drive you back, Sheriff.

Have your men contact

all farmhouses and ranches.

Keep a close watch on all

trucks, buses, and horses.

- All right, Douglas.

- Mr. Devereaux.

- Yes?

- That girl that just left,

is she a relative of yours?

- She means Rose, no

sir, no. She's the...

She's the daughter of Sam

McCrary, that Parker and Grandby.

She's a close girl.

- Oh, I see.

Well, I'm sorry about

all this for your sake.

It's not a very pleasant

experience for either of us.

Good night.

- Good night.

- Sheriff.

Better leave a couple of men

here in case they double back.

- All right.

If you and Bert stay here, Charlie, I'll

have you relieved later.

One of you cover the

front and one the back.

As soon as I get back to town, I'll have

the telephone operators

check the entire country around here.

- Hey, give me a ride

into town, will you, mister?

I've just been held up and my car stolen.

Oh, hello, Mr. Dodson.

- My car was stolen.

- That's right.

It was that youngest Devereaux boy, Paul.

He looked kind of wild-eyed

and stuck a gun in my side.

Told me to get out in no argument.

No use trifling with

that Devereaux outfit.

No telling what they're going to do.

- Well, hop in. We'll

drive you into town.

[dramatic music]

[dog barking]

- Oh, goodness sake,

Truffaut, what is it?

Oh!

- Get out those lights.

- How did you get here?

- The man that took his car away from me.

- You shouldn't have come here.

- I had to come for me.

- I had to come and

try and make you believe

that I didn't kill those men.

You do believe me, don't you?

- I don't know what to do.

Here. Close the door.

- Keep an eye on it, Truffaut.

I'm going to have a look around.

[dog barking] - I'm sorry to trump you, Miss McCray,

but there are a couple of

questions I didn't get a chance

to get you out of Devereaux.

May I commit?

- Why, of course.

Just what was it you

wanted to know, Mr. Devereaux?

- Well, considering

you're Paul Devereaux's guru,

it seems entirely likely

that he'll try to see you.

And if he does, try to

convince him to get himself out.

Because if he doesn't, we're going to

have to shoot it out with him,

and in the end, he'll be dead.

- Anything else?

- Well, there's just a chance.

[dog barking]

- What do you think?

- I don't think I'm going to

be able to get in that door.

- Oh, he wants a ball, that's all.

[dog barking]

Here, Truffaut, go get it.

If you don't mind, Mr. Douglas,

I have to prepare dinner for my father.

- Certainly not.

I just wanted to say

that there's quite a reward

out of the Devereaux boys.

It might go a long way in

fixing up a broken heart.

- Good night, Mr. Douglas.

- Paul, he's gone.

- Well, that was close.

- Listen, will you please

hurry and get out of here?

I have a feeling he's

still hanging around outside.

- I'll stop out the back way.

- No, wait.

Take that door to the cellar.

I'll go out and open the outside doors.

My car's in the driveway.

- I don't need your car, darling.

I still have the one I stole.

I hid it in the grove

at the edge of town.

Once I get out of here, I'm all right.

- Good luck, Paul.

- Back for you, baby.

You know that, don't you?

- Go, please, and hurry.

[door opens]

[door closes] - Stop!

Stop or I'll shoot!

[gunshots]

- Next ten hours, Rose McCreary was torn

with doubt and uncertainty,

plagued by a thousand fears.

Was Paul alive?

Was he lying by the roadside

somewhere nursing his wounds?

Or was he dead?

It seemed incredible that he should twice

escape a deadly hail of bullets,

and yet--and yet womanlike--

Rose McCreary clung to the fragile hope

that he had escaped.

- Now the chase began in earnest.

For the first time, Douglas and the

police knew for certain

who they were looking for.

- Wanted for train holdup and murder,

Edmond and Paul Develo, brothers.

Description as follows.

Edmond Develo, six foot

two inches, black hair.

- Hello Salt Lake City.

Staff of Menno Calling.

Be on the lookout for two men wanted for

murder and train holdup.

Description as follows.

- Attention listeners.

The two men who shot it out with railroad

special agents and sheriff's deputies

yesterday afternoon near Glen Bay, were

still at large today

with every police agency in the state

alerted and on the lookout for them.

Anyone seeing these men

should report it promptly.

- For train holdup and

murder, Edmond and Paul Develo.

- I just saw a man look

like one of the Develo boys.

He hopped right on the truck.

- I'm sure it was the three Develo boys.

Yes, I'm positive.

What? Only two.

Well, maybe they had a friend with them.

- At the end of a week, the Develo

brothers were still at large.

Their trail had been lost completely.

The tempo of the chase died down until

finally it went off the front pages

of newspapers altogether.

It began to be referred

to as that Develo case.

As though already it had been assigned to

the files of unsolved crimes.

- Well, I don't know the authorities

they're quoting, but they're sure right.

The Develo trail's stone cold.

Don't anyone to blame it myself either.

I've bungled the whole job.

That's why Wilcox came up here.

- Oh, I think Mr. Wilcox realizes all the

good work you're doing.

Well, without the leads you dug up, they

wouldn't even have

identified the Develo brothers.

Come on now. Doctor Groom off your face.

You don't want the boss

to see you down, Haddish.

- Should I quit now or

wait till he fires me?

- Oh, you never can tell. He might have

some good news for you.

- Well, here goes.

- I can certainly see

what you've been up against.

- Yeah. Well, you got my wire.

Yeah, I got it.

Pressure from the powers of V, I take it.

You can't blame them.

It's bad all down the line.

The Develo brothers

have got to be caught.

- I know my head's in the block, Chief.

I'd do anything I could if

we had somebody to go on.

But we haven't.

There's no single lead. We haven't run

down and found nothing.

- Maybe you could use some help.

I was thinking of sending Wilkinson over

from the oil valley division.

- Now Wilkinson's a good man.

I'll bow out whenever

you tell him to take over.

- Isn't that a little premature?

Johnny's been doing a

well of a job so far.

- So far, isn't good enough, Holmes. Take

me and you know that.

- Chief's right, Phil.

It's a payoff that counts.

- Excuse me, Mr. Wilcox.

Oh, Johnny, Jake and Kat have some

wonderful news for you.

Go ahead, boys. Tell him.

- Well, we were hunting bird sinks.

We found almost everything

except the hawk and a magpie.

We were coming along the Mill Road when I

spied the old pine with the top

knocked off by lightning.

- No, we asked it, Jake. -

Oh, boy, let's find out, plans.

- Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Wait a

minute. One at a time.

Go ahead, Dad. You talk first.

- We climbed that old tree

and guessed what we found.

- Oh, please, Dad.

This is no guessing game.

Tell Johnny what you found.

- A mail sack.

- A mail sack? Top of the pine.

- Yes, sir.

- Come on. Let's go.

Judging by the weight,

the money's still in it.

Find out when we get back to the office.

- Put down your horse, Sherry.

- No way, Chief. The Devereaux boys will

come back for this sack

the minute they run out of money.

I don't think we should disappoint them.

- You've got something there.

We leave the bag here

and stick out the tree.

The minute they show up, we grab it.

- Exactly.

Only we take out the

money first, just in case.

- Sounds like a good plan, Johnny.

Authorized to open this sack?

- Yeah. By the postal authorities here.

[birds chirping]

- Well, kids, looks like you earned

yourself a fair day's pay,

particularly if our plan goes through.

Come on, Sheriff. Let's

put this in the saddlebag.

- Carrying out Johnny Douglas' orders,

they transferred the money to the

Sheriff's saddlebags,

then filled the mail

sack with paper and rocks,

and put it back in his hiding place.

Thus, the trap was baited,

and the waiting began all over again.

- Where is it, Pete?

- Quall just came in from the

switchback down to Tunnel 13.

A break, he just

kicked a trap off the rods,

and after he did, he remembered he looked

like one of the Devereaux boys,

the younger ones. - How long ago was that?

- Oh, not more than an hour or so.

Sheriff's brought your men around here,

and don't make a move unless I do.

Just possible the brothers may have a run

to who and they'll both show up.

- Okay, Johnny.

Pete, you lead the horses up

the canyon for a mile or so.

You, you cover from that man's a needle

over there on the hill.

Max, you and Charlie

from that bush over there.

- Lucille, better go back with the boys.

- Somebody's coming.

There was a signal from one of our boys.

He signaled once, that means there's only one. Still a chance he's gonna meet his

brother. Let's follow him.

There could be another

entrance to that mine, Sheriff.

You and your men take the

other side of the ridge,

the Chief and I'll take this side.

You ever like this part

for us up there, Johnny?

Come on.

Who's that?

It's me, Paul.

You all right, kid?

Yeah.

You fooled me.

I was afraid you wouldn't make it,

and you've been here

and I had a schedule.

That was a tough week, Paul.

Those cops never let up for a minute.

Yeah, I know.

Where'd that sack go from?

From the tree where we left it.

So that's why you got here early.

You were gonna pull a

fast one, weren't you, Paul?

You were gonna grab

your share of the money

and run off with that

McCreary dame, weren't you?

So what? Half the money in that sack

belongs to me anyway.

Not to spend on a cheap little dame.

She was only making a play for you

because you had her believing

you were gonna be a bitch shot someday.

I'm not lying.

Why you?

I'll pacify that and I'll

really have to get down, Paul.

You don't want to forget I killed four

guys for this money.

Not you, I remember that.

So you heard your story

all fixed, didn't you?

Well, you're not gonna get away with it.

Brother and old

brother, no best for friends.

Tell me what you did with that money.

Why aren't you hired?

Paul.

Paul?

Answer me, you fool.

What does it do with the money?

Answer me. I want that money.

All right, several, put up your hands.

Come on, get up. Put

your hands behind your back.

And so the Devereaux case ended,

with one brother dead

and the other captured,

and the long record of the special agents

for never failing to get

their men continued unbroken.

Things quieted down in

Santa Marta after that,

but not for long, and

special agent Johnny Douglas

never complained again

of things being done.

In fact, there were

times when Johnny wondered

if things weren't happening too quickly.

[phone ringing]

Yeah?

Yeah?

Another boy.

You know, well, thanks.

Come on, kids.

The doc says we can go see your mother.

You do, kid brother.