All language subtitles for maverick_s01e16_rage_for_vengeance

Finish your drink, mister. It's a long
ride back to town.

I didn't really believe it was you.

It's me, Sheriff.

If you've had your water, you can climb
aboard your horse now.

Sheriff, I couldn't do that if my life
depended on it. You think it don't?

It's my leg.

I guess I've been losing more blood than
I thought.

I know.

That's how I trailed you.

Look, I'm going to have to rest a while
before I can ride again.

It's the only way I'll ever make it
back.

Twenty minutes.

Then you're riding back to Northstown.

Either in your saddle or across it.

How much blood?

Kind of a clumsy job.

Guess I'll never make a good bankrupt.

Not for the next 20 years, anyhow.

It was my first try at it.

Like to know why I did it?

Not especially.

It's a pretty uncommon story.

Well, you save it for the jury.

I'll make you a bet, Sheriff.

Ten dollars even.

My money, not the bank's.

But if I told you the story, I wouldn't
ride back to town at all.

My job's just to bring you back.

So you save your breath.

I'll change that bet.

You not only wouldn't take me back, you
wouldn't even take the money back.

If it's worth $10 to you, go ahead.

Well, to begin with... Ten weeks ago.

Ten weeks ago yesterday.

I was down in Denver.

Big hotel there.

Playing poker.

Thank you.

Well, I'm surprised at you, Brett.

You're no bluffer.

I could be, though.

All I'm lacking is courage and an honest
face.

I don't want to go through life the way
I am now.

A simple country boy.

I think I'll see you.

Porter. Yes, ma 'am.

The gentleman in black broadcloth. Is
that Mr. Maverick?

There are two Mr. Mavericks here at the
hotel, ma 'am. The one in there now is

Mr. Brett Maverick.

Will you give me this, please?

Certainly, ma 'am.

Thank you.

Who's this from, friend?

A lady in the lobby gave it to me. A
tall, blonde, good -looking woman.

A lady in a green dress?

That's the one.

You're sure I'm the one the note's for?
She said particularly Mr. Brett

Maverick.

Thank you, Mr. Maverick.

Gentlemen, there are more important
things than getting rich.

Mr. Maverick?

Do sit down.

I'm so glad you could come.

I'm glad you asked me.

Oh.

Neutral grain spirits, ma 'am.

Nourishing and convivial.

I'm afraid there's no need to be
convivial, Mr. Maverick.

I've asked you here on a business
matter.

If you came under a mistaken impression,
I'm sorry.

I'm desolated, miss.

Mrs. Ross, I'm a widow.

Well, to tell you the truth, I never
indulge in anything stronger than

Now, what can I do for you, Mrs. Ross?

I have a rather strange request to make
of you.

I'm on my way north, and I've come as
far as I can by train.

I'm leaving by stagecoach tomorrow
morning for North Span, Montana.

I'd like you to accompany me on the
trip.

That's a long way from Denver.

I'm prepared to pay you $1 ,000.

$1 ,000 for the pleasure of my company?

Understand me, Mr. Maverick.

The pleasure of your company doesn't
enter into it at all.

What I need is your protection.

If you don't mind my saying so, Mrs.
Ross, you look quite capable of taking

of yourself.

Lots of people travel alone these days.

I'm not alone, Mr. Maverick.

Ma 'am?

I'm taking this with me.

I can take care of myself.

I'm not sure I can take care of $200
,000 in cash.

Do you always carry this much money
around with you?

I've carried it all the way up from East
Texas, and I intend to carry it on to

Montana.

I see.

Well, if it was my money and I wanted to
get it to Montana, I believe I'd just

ship it. Let Wells Fargo do the hauling
and the worry.

There isn't any Wells Fargo west of Fort
Laramie.

That's 300 miles this side of North
Span.

When you need help looking after your
suitcase full of money, do you always

a stranger?

You're not quite a stranger.

We have a mutual friend in Denver, Mr.
Peterson, the lawyer.

He assures me you're honest, capable,
and discreet.

Naturally, I'm flattered.

If it interests you, he also says you're
a gentleman.

What was his name again?

On this occasion, you would be.

Will you help me?

There'd have to be one thing understood.

If it's the money I'm protecting, this
suitcase never leaves my sight.

I assure you, Mr. Maverick, between here
and Montana, this suitcase and you, and

I, will be inseparable.

For any price, a thousand miles is a
long distance to go.

That wasn't half the distance Mrs. Ross
kept between me and herself.

What?

Yeah.

Sister? Mother.

It's a long way to go when there's
nobody to talk to.

You were talking.

Occasionally I like to hear somebody
talking back.

I suppose I could carry on a
conversation with a suitcase.

Money talks.

Oh, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude.

I wouldn't feel so lonely if I even knew
your first name.

Your food's better when it's hot.

Elizabeth's a pretty name.

I suppose so.

Not Elizabeth, huh?

Well, let's try some others.

We'll start with A.

Mister, I've got something to say to
you, and I hope you don't take it

What's that, friend?

You've got a mighty handsome wife.

Thank you.

Makes this whole part of the country
start to look civilized.

She's a fine little woman.

My name is Maverick, ma 'am. I'm your
neighbor across the hall.

I've been wondering how I could get to
know you.

I know you have.

If you're not doing anything, well,
suppose we leave the baby somewhere and

enjoy the town.

Thank you, but I am doing something.

Going out with another man?

Staying in, Mr. Maverick, with a huge
tub of hot, soapy water.

Oh, maybe later, then. The Montana stage
doesn't leave until tomorrow morning.

Mr. Maverick?

The way I feel I'll probably still be in
that tub I suppose you won't be needing

me If you want to go out you can leave
the suitcase with me I'll get the

suitcase

Are

you sure

It's a true green, but the red on the
seal's a little brownish.

Is he saying that... It's counterfeit,
Mr. Maverick.

Where did you say you got this?

Denver.

I won it in a poker game.

Well, we'll get it to the government,
men, and they'll... What are you doing?

You shouldn't have done that.

Oh, I'm sorry. I always wanted to light
a cigar with a $100 bill.

Satisfaction's real, even if the bill
isn't.

She was an uncommon person, Mrs. Ross.

And in this situation, whatever it was,
she just didn't fit at all.

Carrying around that much cash is
ridiculous.

But when it isn't even real money...
Mrs. Ross.

Yes? There's something I have to ask you
about.

You're very persistent, Mr. Maverick.

I suppose I might as well tell you and
get it over with.

It's Margaret.

Good evening.

Good evening.

Mr. Maverick.

And wife.

Mrs. Maverick, we have a very nice big
corner room for you. The best room in

house.

Yes, well, now, do you suppose you could
rustle up two nice big corner rooms?

Mrs. Maverick keeps insisting that I
snore.

Well, the room that I described to you
is the only room we have.

The cattle buyers are in town.

If there should be any cancellation,
I'll let you know.

Front.

Where do you usually sleep when the
hotels are full?

In the livery stable.

On a soft bed of fragrant hay.

Well? That's when I don't have a fifth
of a million dollars sleeping with me,

and the town isn't full of drunken
cowboys.

I suppose you'll have to leave the money
here.

I'm sure it'd be safe overnight.

If that was the case, Mrs. Ross, I could
still be in that card game in Denver.

What do you propose, then?

That I sleep in the stable?

I suppose I could borrow two shotguns,
and we could sit up all night watching

each other.

Mr. Maverick.

Your humor is beginning to fade.

Could make an extra room and give us
both some privacy.

If one of us wanted to stay awake and
hold it up.

You're thoroughly enjoying yourself,
aren't you, Mr. Maverick?

Mrs. Ross.

I've enjoyed myself more on the short
end of a fist fight.

And your privacy is the last thing on
earth that either of us has to worry

about.

I don't understand.

You carry your own privacy.

And it's a lot more substantial than
that silly thing.

That's a strange thing to say.

Strange, Mrs. Ross?

You come along with $200 ,000 in cash
tucked under your arm, and you say

not doing anything for the next ten
minutes, Mr. Maverick?

Come along with me and ride on the
stagecoach for a thousand miles.

And this being a sensible, everyday
suggestion, I say thank you kindly, Mrs.

Ross. I believe I will.

So we ride.

In the morning, we say good morning. In
the evening, we say good night.

And in between, we don't say anything at
all.

I am sorry, Brad. It's just that... I
haven't tried to pry into your silly

little secret.

I haven't had designs on either you or
your money. I've been the perfect little

gentleman. Not too bright, but a
gentleman.

May I say something?

If you're sure you feel up to it.

You sound strange.

You talk like a small, angry boy who
won't say why he's angry.

That's right.

I do.

What is bothering you?

Please, Brett.

Things are confused enough already.

Successful trip.

We got the whole cattle crowd in the
bay.

Fine day.

Yes, it is.

Are you going to North Spantoon?

That's right.

Oh, I'm sorry.

We neglected to introduce ourselves.

This is my friend, Andrew Wiggins.

My name is John Grimes.

Brett Maverick.

Pleasure.

This your first trip to Montana, Mrs.
Maverick?

Mrs. Roth.

Yes, it is.

I have a feeling we've met before, Mr.
Grant.

That's what I was supposed to say, Mrs.
Ross.

You're not from Texas, are you?

Louisiana. New Orleans.

I hope you're planning to settle in
Northspan.

I haven't fully decided.

It's a wonderful country, Montana.

I've heard it's excellent farmland.

Farmland?

I'm afraid you've been talking to the
wrong people, Mr. Ross.

Montana land is too good to waste on
potatoes.

It's grazing land.

Cattle country.

I'm ashamed to say it, but I don't know
the difference.

Any land that'll feed cattle is cattle
land.

Any land that won't is farmland. That's
right.

You sound as if you have a cause, Mr.
Grind.

I suppose I do.

When sheep and sodbusters move in on
good range land...

It destroys a whole way of life.

I've seen it happen in parts of Texas.

And I don't want to see it happen here
in Montana.

Montana's opening up, Mrs. Ross.

But it's got to start right.

We'll be a state in two or three years.

A state?

Montana? The 41st state of the Union.

You're looking at the man who's going to
be the first governor.

Let me be the first to congratulate you.

Oh, not me. Mr.

Grimes. Would you like to be the
governor of Montana, Mr. Grimes?

Well, I hadn't thought of it.

But if I were needed, I suppose I'd have
no choice.

I find this very exciting.

I'm impressed, Mr. Grimes.

What would you do as governor?

This is all so sudden, Mrs. Ross.

You'd have to give me time to think.

Since this is going to be your first
evening in North Span, why don't you

dinner with me?

I promise to have my entire political
platform prepared by then.

That's very kind of you, but I have a
dinner engagement.

Well, perhaps tomorrow, then.

Sometime soon.

What a perfectly lovely landscape.

I can't believe it.

Two miles more and we'll be in North
Span.

Goodbye, stagecoach.

That's going to destroy a whole way of
life.

Brett Maverick, you're jealous of that
man.

Jealous?

Just because Mr. Grimes' ranch house was
three stories high? Just because the

stagecoach went ten miles out of the way
to drop him off?

No, I wish him luck.

If he can win your hand with all our
money in it.

He's bound to be the governor of the
41st state.

Then I can always come to you if I need
a pardon for anything.

Wouldn't it be simpler just to make you
governor instead?

Don't you like Governor Grimes?

Good morning.

Good morning.

You'll be happy to know that in a few
minutes you'll be out of a job.

We're going to get rid of that extra
luggage, if there is.

Well, bully for us.

What are we going to do with it?

The only sensible thing we can't do with
that much money, put it in the bank.

Of course, in the bank.

Whenever you're ready.

I'll get my coat.

And the suitcase.

And now, what references do you have,
Mrs. Ross?

The very best, Mr. Bradshaw.

Money.

You're absolutely right.

What sum were you planning to, as you
put it, leave with us?

$200 ,000.

I see.

Did you say $200 ,000?

That's correct.

Well, that's...

That's a lot of money.

It may take a couple of weeks for your
draft to clear, but if you need anything

in the meantime... It's not a draft, Mr.
Bradshaw.

It's cash.

Cash?

Mr. Maverick was kind enough to act as
my bodyguard.

Would you mind, Mr. Maverick?

Does something trouble you, Mr.
Bradshaw?

If anything troubled me, it would be my
conscience.

I must say, as a banker, if I had that
kind of money, I'd want to put it

someplace where it would earn more than
the 6 % interest this bank would pay on

it. I don't want to open an account.

I only want to rent a strong box in your
safe. A strong box?

My dear Mrs. Ross, you can't lock this
kind of capital up in a box.

Why, it's financial madness.

Banks fail, Mr. Bradshaw.

Boxes don't. Oh, come now, Mrs. Ross.

These are modern times.

When is the last time you heard of a
bank failing?

The one my late husband used.

Lost his whole fortune for him.

Something in excess of half a million
dollars.

Mr. Ross literally killed himself,
building his estate back up to this.

None of which he ever entrusted to a
bank.

And now...

May I see your strong box?

Certainly, Mrs. Ross.

Right this way, please.

$1 ,000.

You've been a long time earning it.

Counting it, Brett?

No, no, I was just looking at it.

You sure you don't have a suitcase that
I don't know about?

Whatever makes you ask that?

I thought all your hundreds were the old
spread eagle issue.

These are all new ones with Mr. Lincoln
on the front.

That's progress.

Thank you for everything, Brett.

I'm sure it's been tedious and
mystifying to you.

Just mystifying.

Our friend in Denver was right about
you.

You're honest, discreet.

And a gentleman.

That last is the part that hurts.

That was goodbye, Greg.

It couldn't have been goodbye.

Because I'm not leaving yet.

Stagecoach. can pound calluses on
somebody else for a while.

I don't want you here, Brett.

I don't want complications.

We've got those already, both of us.

I don't know what yours are, Margaret,
but I'm beginning to understand mine.

What are you trying to say, Brett?

You hit pretty hard.

I wasn't even swinging at you. I know.

If you'd swung, I could have ducked.

I'm sorry, Brett.

I'm not in love with you.

You're not.

Who are you in love with?

I'm not in love with anyone.

I'm not going to be in love with anyone.

Why not?

Because I can't afford to be.

We'll see.

Well, Mr. Maverick.

Good afternoon, sir.

I was supposed to meet Mrs. Ross here.
Has she turned up yet?

She's come and gone.

Oh, that's a pity.

Well, as long as she got what she came
after.

Oh, yes.

She usually does.

Mr. Maverick, do you have a minute?

Mr. Maverick.

You're an old friend of Mrs. Ross.

Well... Tell me, does she seem eccentric
to you?

Eccentric? Mrs. Ross?

Well, there's that business of the
strong box. Now, you saw that.

Leaving $200 ,000 lying around doing
absolutely nothing.

Women don't think the way we do, Mr.
Bradshaw. But that isn't always

If she's got $200 ,000 earning no
interest at all, why should she borrow

,000 at 8 %?

If she needs $20 ,000, why doesn't she
borrow it from herself?

If everybody got into that habit, you'd
soon be out of business, wouldn't you?

And she certainly had a good reason for
wanting the money. Now, that's neither

here nor there.

All right.

Why did you lend her the money? Because
it will earn me $1 ,600 a year.

And I don't believe in strong boxes.

If you think the woman's
irresponsible... With the collateral

Maverick. The strong box in there plus
the property itself, I don't care if

she's a babbling idiot.

When she goes through this 20 ,000, I
shall be happy to lend her another 20.

What makes you think she'll go through
this 20?

Because the business she's buying won't
run itself.

What does a woman know about publishing
a newspaper?

Are you sure?

Yeah. I saw the old fellow get on the
stagecoach, but I didn't think nothing

it. It come out later that he'd sold the
newspaper and eloped with the money.

What do you mean he sold the paper?

It doesn't belong to him. It belongs to
me. Could we prove it?

I bought off both his mortgages and
handed them to him. I've been covering

losses for two years. I'm the owner of
the territorial time.

He was the owner of record, John.
There's nothing you can do about it. No,

there?

I want him taken off that stagecoach and
brought back here. It's no use. We

couldn't prove you're the real owner of
the paper.

Matter of fact, I don't think we'd want
to, even if we could.

Bad politics, huh?

Dynamite.

You're right.

What do we do now, Mr. Grimes?

Buy the new editor.

Who is the new editor?

Someone named Ross.

The woman in the stagecoach.

In that case, maybe we can save our
money.

You know, from the way she took to me, I
don't think we're going to have to buy

her at all.

Gentlemen.

To our new editor.

Hey, son.

Give me one of them, will you?

Let's see how us mean old dirt farmers
are picking on the poor little cattlemen

this weekend.

Three more families of decent American
farmers moved out of Sherman County last

week, driven from their homes not by
hunger, nor fatigue, nor the rigors of

climate, but by the harassments, the
violence, and the organized economic

pressure of a small, powerful, selfish
group of men, the bully boys of the

cattle clique.

The cattlemen are organized and they are
tireless.

They are determined that Montana shall
raise beef instead of families.

We who would fight them must organize
also, and must neither slumber nor sleep

until we have established that Montana
belongs not to cattle, but to people.

The Times will identify the leading
members of the cattleman's cabal, each

his background and with his particular
function in the plot against the people.

The first of these articles will appear
in our next edition.

We'll see about that.

May I give you some friendly advice,
Mrs. Ross?

I was delighted to learn that you were
going to settle here and buy the

newspaper.

I want you to get off to the right
start.

I want the people of Northspan to like
you and admire you, as I do.

Please go on, Mr. Grimes.

People will get the idea that you're
attacking the cattle interests without

really knowing who they are and what
they represent.

I know these ranchers, Mrs. Ross.

They're good, sound, substantial people.

What Mr. Grimes is trying to say is it's
smarter to attack the farmer.

I'm not saying that at all.

Mrs. Ross, I merely urge you to keep an
open mind.

My mind is always open, Mr. Grimes.

And so are my eyes.

Good.

Keep an open date book, too.

I'll give Mr. Maverick here a run for
his money.

John Grimes is a charming man, a
ruthless man, a violent man.

His methods, before he moved north and
changed his name, made him the only

cattleman ever to be thrown out of
Texas.

Mr. Grimes' participation in the
political history of Texas was brief and

bloody. And even today, the most
hardened of Texas beef barons cannot

him without a shudder of shame.

Untrue. It's vicious.

What are you trying to do to me?

Ruin me?

Just trying to stop you, Mr. Grimes.

And I will.

You're not going to set up a cattleman's
kingdom in Montana.

You're not going to be governor of
anything either.

And you're going to stop me.

I'm doing that already.

I know everything about you.

Who you are and what you're up to.

I know how you fight.

And I know how to fight you.

Enjoy yourself, Mrs. Ross.

It'll be a short fight.

You'll never even know what hit you.

If anything at all hits me, Mr. Grimes,
everyone will know what it was.

If any violence happens, even to my
printing press, you're the one they'll

for.

Mr. Grimes, you can't turn your hand
without cutting your own throat.

You've got a lot to learn about me, Mrs.
Ross.

Did you get your date?

Margaret.

What's the matter, little soldier?

Just time.

You ought to be.

That's hard work sorting wildcats.

You know, if I was going to feel sorry
for somebody, it'd be Grimes.

He came out of here bleeding from a
dozen wounds.

You two just don't seem to hit it off,
do you?

If you ever want to give up this type of
work, I could make an honest housewife

out of you.

Why would you want to do that?

I can't help myself.

Fell in love with you.

I... You almost said it, didn't you?

You know, fighting yourself, you can't
win.

I'm going to walk you home.

It's one way of keeping you out of
trouble.

You like your new house?

I won't ask you in.

Margaret, are you sure you don't need
somebody to talk to?

I can't, Brett.

Thank you for walking me home.

I owe you a favor.

For not paying me off in counterfeit
money.

All right, Brett.

Come in.

Then Grimes was right.

You are from Texas.

He and his cattlemen were burning crops
and houses and beating people and

killing people.

It was my husband who stood up to them.

Was he a farmer?

No. A printer, an engraver.

He ran a newspaper and I helped him.

What happened to it?

Grimes sent his men around and they
smashed the printing presses and the

tight... the whole building.

They beat my husband horribly and left
him for dead.

Go on.

I took him to New Orleans.

We spent a year going from one doctor to
another.

Then I brought him home.

A hopeless cripple.

He tried to start up again in a little
print shop, but he couldn't.

He was broken in more than body, Brett.

He died in poverty and bitterness.

To the very end, he had an obsession, a
rage for vengeance.

He felt that Grimes could be fought only
with money.

And he had no money, so... he printed
his own.

He didn't tell me until he was dying.

And he made me swear that I wouldn't let
Grimes get away with it ever again.

And the counterfeit money?

I haven't spent a penny of it.

I never will.

But when people think you have money,
they're delighted to lend you more.

That's all there is to it.

Not quite.

What else is there?

Do you love me?

I can't turn aside for anything till
I've done what I have to do.

All right, if I'm going to have to stand
around and wait for you, the least I

can do is pitch in and help.

What time do I come to work in the
morning?

You know who they were?

No, sir.

Are you all right? Did they hurt you?
I'm not hurt, ma 'am. They just threw me

in a shed and wrote off with all my
papers.

You were right after all. Well, we made
extra copies just in case.

This time you're going to have an
assistant to help you deliver them. Sir?

Me. But please be careful.

Oh, we will.

We won't lose a single cop.

May I help you?

You've already been a lot of help to us,
Miss Ross.

Folks around here think mighty high of
you.

That's very kind.

My name is Miss Effie Walker.

My old man is Jed Walker. We run a farm
up north of town.

I'm happy to meet you, Mrs. Walker.

My old man knows things about Mr. John
Grimes that even you don't know, Miss

Ross. He worked for Mr. Grimes till he
couldn't stand it no more.

Oh?

He knows things that would put Mr.
Grimes in the penitentiary if they ever

out.

But he never said nothing to nobody.

Because he knowed he'd be killed if he
did.

Why do you come to me now?

Jed is bad sick and he's sinking fast.

I think he's worried about me not having
nothing when he's gone. So he thought

you might could pay him something for
what he knows.

Of course I will.

Can you take me to him?

Oh, I'd be scared to be seen with you.
But I can tell you how to get there.

You ride out north past the old bridge.

Every copy delivered, not a shot fired
in anger.

You want to hire me permanent, son?

You know where the Walker Ranch is north
of town?

Walker?

Why, the last Walkers moved away from
here back in the early spring.

They went back east.

Mrs. Ross is dead.

Maverick.

Where are you going?

Looking for Grimes.

If you're aiming a gun anybody down, I
won't have it.

Sheriff, half the population in this
town can draw faster than I can.

There's gonna be a fight. It'll be a
fair fight.

Grimes?

Something you want to say to me, Mr.
Maverick?

That's right.

Margaret Ross is dead.

That's terrible.

I know Mrs. Ross considered herself my
enemy for some reason.

But I thought the world of her.

You killed her.

And didn't even have the courage to show
her your face.

Killed her?

Me kill Mrs. Ross?

Why, folks, you don't believe that stuff
she put in the newspaper.

You're upset, Mr. Maverick.

We all are.

I said you killed her.

You're also a liar and a coward.

So you're forcing a gunfight?

No.

You're a killer and a liar and a coward.

You want to get on your horse now and
leave?

I won't stop you.

She was a good woman, Mrs. Ross.

She saw what had to be done, and she
wasn't slow to do it.

You know, Sheriff, it's hard to realize
that this is the same town.

We thought we was whipped, and she
showed us we wasn't.

When she went down, she took them with
her.

I think she knew she would.

I'll tell you one thing.

Folks around this town are going to
remember Mrs. Ross for a long time.

It's a memory that will keep us strong
and proud.

Wouldn't have been right otherwise.

Not to her, nor to the town.

I guess there's worse things than going
to jail for bank robbery.

Rather face that than a bad conscience.

You strong enough to ride now?

I guess so.

You better ride south.

Oh.

Thank you, Sheriff.

Don't let the fire go out.

I won't.