All language subtitles for Tales of Wells Fargo - 1x08 - Renegade Raiders

DRIVER: Hyah! Come on!

JIM: The long arm of Wells Fargo

stretched from
Saint Joe, Missouri,

to San Francisco,

its Pony Express, overland
stage, and big freight wagons

creaking and groaning
under the weight

of the necessities for
building the frontier.

The land was here,

and there was
opportunity aplenty.

But without supply lines,

would life follow?

Wherever a need
presented itself,

Wells Fargo answered the demand.

It breathed a breath
of life into the new land.

You can't freight lines
without a change of horses,

so Wells Fargo
established stock stations

along the overland route.

And renegade raiders poured
out of the Cheyenne country.

They were hitting the
outlying stations hard.

They had guns and ammunition.

As a Wells Fargo investigator,

it was my job to find out
how they were getting them.

Aaron?

Aaron!

Aaron!

Aaron!

I'm glad you're
still in one piece.

Just barely, boy,

just barely.

Who is that?

That's Lee Travers.

He drops by once in a while
on his way up to Laramie.

He won't anymore, poor devil.

Them raiders got
him early in the fight.

I ran out of shells and
hid here in the cellar.

Not a very pretty sight,

or a new one.

They got two stations last week

the other side of Laramie.

They ain't just
after horses, Jim.

They grabbed everything in
there there that wasn't nailed down.

I know.

What does it mean, Aaron,

when an Indian
starts stealing money?

He's got no use for
it, no place to spend it.

He sure ain't.

I've been chasing
Indians half my life.

They'll steal a horse
and maybe a woman,

but they sure ain't
got no use for money.

That's the way I figured it.

I think somebody else

is doing their thinking for 'em.

Yeah.

Let's get him buried.

We'll take a look around.

Looks like you
got to one of them.

Mmm.

Could be a wounded horse.

Nope. No, it ain't.

It was a man.

This is where he fell.

Look at them heel marks
where he was dragged.

Then someone picked him up

and threw him
over a horse's back.

It was Cheyenne.

They don't leave
their dead behind.

Look at this.

Don't know as I ever
seen a gun like that before.

It's a Shawk-McLanahan,

made back in St. Louis.

Hits like a carbine

and just about as accurate.

Small and easy to smuggle.

Somebody's running
these guns through, Jim.

Probably from St. Joe.

It's close to St. Louis,

and it's a jumping off place

for every wagon heading west.

Ah! Isn't a rottener
man in the world

than one who'd put a
gun in an Indian's hand.

Yes, there is.

The kind of a man
who would live off

of the money an
operation like this makes.

I'm going back to St. Joe.

Start my career with
Wells Fargo all over again.

Wait a minute, Jim.

You don't think these guns

are coming through
on our wagons, do you?

There's that chance.

It seems to me that
whoever's behind this operation

knows an awful lot about
Wells Fargo procedure.

They check every
wagon that leaves St. Joe.

Well, what if something's
happening after they leave?

I don't know.

Sure one way to find out.

Let's head for St. Joe.

I need you here, Aaron.

Just a minute, Jim.

JIM: That's an order.

I wanna know every
move the Cheyenne makes.

Unless, of course, you
figure you're too old for the job.

Old? Why, I could
still go bear hunting

with a hickory stick

and come back with
his ears in my fist!

That's the way I figured it.

Hang onto your
hat. You'll need it.

Hold it now, don't you
get too cocky young 'un.

I'm getting kind
of used to knowing

you're around somewhere.

And, remember, when
you see me again,

you don't know me.

JIM: St. Joe,
Missouri, was as far

as the railroad went.

From there on, Wells
Fargo handled the freight

by horse and wagon.

Their banking
interests, consignment,

and warehouses took up
a block on the main street.

To most people, a
six-horse stagecoach

meant Wells Fargo.

But there's more to
the company than that.

It carries treasure
out of every bonanza

from Hudson Bay to Rio.

There isn't a place
on either continent

where you can't cash
a Wells Fargo check.

It's a big outfit.

Make no mistake about that.

No one knew my face in St. Joe,

and that was the way
I wanted to keep it.

All right.

Now, the most important thing

to remember from
this exercise is this.

You noticed that I turned,

drew, and then fired.

That way, I had the whole sweep

of the man's
height for my target.

Now, then, if I'd-a drew,
turned, and then fired,

I'd have swept across, and
that narrows down my target.

Now, I want you
all to remember that,

because it might save
your lives someday.

All right, Shorty. Try it.

Remember, you got to
spin on your heel, draw, fire.

Don't be embarrassed.

Not many men can do this.

That's why we
teach it to you here.

Are you Powers?

That's right.

So you wanna go to
work for Wells Fargo?

That's right.

Came all the way from Abilene.

Cowpuncher?

JIM: Mostly.

I can ride a little, shoot some.

Like to travel?

Long as I get paid for it.

Well, we got two ways of
doing things around here.

The wrong way and
the Wells Fargo way.

What's your name?
Jim, Jim Harris.

Lesson number one...

I call you Jim,

you call me Mr. Powers.

I never was much
of a school boy.

Well, the course we give here

separates the men from the boys.

There's board and room,

half pay while you're learning.

I'll take it, Mr. Powers.

We'll get along.
Stable your horse,

make yourself at home.

Class starts tomorrow morning.

I had to play it that way...

Green, smart,

as though the only thing
I knew about Wells Fargo

was the company name.

It went against my grain,

but I had to play it that way.

Took you five tries,
but you finally made it

in just under eight minutes.

Did all right, huh?

Could have been better.

Those two heavy barrels

should be back
here over the axle.

Beats me, what
difference it makes

how fast a man can load a wagon.

Make all the difference if you
break an axle out on the trail.

With maybe a few of them

Cheyenne breathing
down your neck.

Powers knows what he's doing.

You fellas think a good
deal of him, don't you?

Jack Powers was the best man

Pacific Express had.

When they sold
out to Wells Fargo,

he went with the deal.

But he can still lean
on a man pretty good

when he wants too.

I bet if you broke
his head open,

all you'd find in there

is a bunch of little
old Wells Fargo signs.

JIM: I'd forgotten how
tough that course could be.

Up at the crack of dawn,

then falling into bed at night,

so tired, you don't even hear
the snores of the other men

in the bunkhouse.

Then beat the birds
up in the morning

and start all over again.

Wells Fargo's not
training you to kill men.

But you have to
learn this in order

to protect your passengers,

your cargo, and yourself.

Now, then,

the two reasons why the shotgun

has proven to be the best weapon

for a Wells Fargo man.

Name one of them, Shorty.

Oh,

most men, including
the old hoot owl,

have got an idea what
they're gonna look like

when they're dead.

Kind of peaceful, nice.

But there ain't nothing
nice about being torn

in half by a shotgun.

That's right.

Works on the mind.

What's the other one, Jim?

Shotgun covers a wide range,

therefore speed and dexterity

are more important
than careful aim.

You've been paying
more attention

than I thought.

Well, suppose you show us.

Just lope your horse by here.

That bale of hay there is a man

with a bead on you.

When I say "now," turn and fire.

JACK: Now!

Is that what you meant?

Couldn't have
done it better myself.

That's all for today, men.

I want to talk to you, Jim.

How am I doing, teacher?

For a while there, I didn't
think you were gonna work out.

Now there's no doubt in my mind

you're head and shoulders
above anyone in this group.

You'll do.

Thanks,

Mr. Powers.

JIM: I spent the
next couple of days

and nights keeping my ears open,

hoping for a lead.

Then it happened.

No drinking tonight, men.

We're taking wagons
west tomorrow morning.

We are?

That's right. I'm
tired of training men

and losing them on
their first assignment.

I'm taking this run
through myself.

No more half pay!

California, here I come!

What's the matter with you, Jim?

This is what you
were training for.

Yeah.

Yeah, that's right.

What are you doing back here?

We all know somebody's
been running guns.

It could be right here
on this wagon train.

I went through
these wagons myself

before we left St. Joe.

You saw me do it. You
could have missed something.

The only thing I've
missed is a little sleep.

Now, you better get
back in that bedroll

before I miss any more.

All right,

Mr. Powers,

but I was just doing
what you told us to do,

to keep our eyes open,

pay attention, remember?

That'll be two of us
with our eyes open.

You remember that.

Ho!

Harris, you ride up ahead
and check that canyon.

Looks like a good
spot for an ambush.

That's right. I don't
like the looks of it.

Where have you been?

Up checking the ridge.

How does it look up there?

Clear to me. Why?

That's the way we're
gonna have to go.

What's the matter
with the canyon?

There's a rock laying across it

big enough to bury that wagon.

Guess it's a good thing
I sent you through there.

Well, that's one
way of looking at it.

Let it roll!

Hey!

Whoa!

We'll pick up fresh horses here

and then push on to Laramie.

Don't you think you ought
to give these men a rest?

You've been pushing
them pretty hard.

You just take orders, Harris.

Yes, sir.

He must be new, eh?

Yeah, he's fresh as
paint, but he'll learn.

He sure will.

All right, let's get
these teams unhitched!

Look alive! Got to move
in fresh horses here!

What about the Cheyenne?

Mmm, small band, 10, 15 maybe.

That's enough.

You find out anything?

I don't know.

I've got an idea.

What's holding you up down here?

We're all set.

Indian signs between
here and Laramie.

Indians don't worry me.

Let's get some of
these horses up there

to those wagons.

All right!

Let 'em roll!

Whoa!

We'll ride on into Laramie.

They can't miss it from here.

Go back and tell Shorty

just to follow the
natural lines of the draw.

We're gonna ride onto Laramie.

Wait here.

Mr. Powers say that?

That's the order.

Where's Powers? He
and Jim rode on ahead.

This was something
I hadn't figured on.

That because you
weren't paying attention.

I'll do better next time.

Ain't gonna be no next time.

Come on.

Who is he?

JACK: Haven't
learned his real name,

but it doesn't matter.

My guess is he's a
Wells Fargo detective.

The Cheyenne have
ways of loosening a tongue.

Not now, Broken Wrist.

Put him in there.

That man in there means

that Wells Fargo is after us,

and if Wells Fargo is after you,

that means there isn't a rock

in this whole country
that you can hide under.

But they don't know
who we are with him dead.

You listened to me
once, and I made you rich.

Listen to me again,
and I'll keep you free.

What about the warriors?

We'll have our
last raid tomorrow,

then we'll split up.

We'll hit the wagons at dawn.

Jim?

Aaron?

I'll you cut you loose.

No.

What do you mean, no?

If I'm not here in the morning,

we'll never catch up to Powers.

He's planning on
raiding the wagon train,

and I'm planning
on waiting right here.

You wanna get killed?

You listen to me.

Get back down there and
warn Shorty and the others.

Be ready when that attack comes.

That's an order.

Well, I ain't taking it.

Cut these halfway through.

Cut 'em, man. Cut 'em.

He's kind of a light skinned,

but I don't think those
wagon drivers will notice.

You're gonna make a real
sure enough Cheyenne.

Beginning to get the idea?

If you're waiting for
me to break Powers,

you're gonna be
here a long time.

You'll break...

when those greenhorn drivers

start pumping lead into you.

You see,

you're gonna be
leading the war party,

but way out in front.

There they are.

Yup. There they are.

They haven't moved.

Hold your fire. Wait till
they're breathing on you.

Pick a man and get him.

There many of them?

Enough.

Hyah!

This one's mine.

Whoo-ha!

That's enough, son.

You don't wanna
bust up those hands.

That's about all there is to it.

He had the guns dismantled

and put in the kegs.

Well, I'll be hanged.

I don't know about
you, but he will.

JIM: Wells Fargo
was big, all right.

Big enough to keep
its own skirts clean,

but no bigger than
men like Aaron Ross,

Shorty Tannin,

Joe Purdy,

and Phil Slavin.