All language subtitles for Death.Valley.Days.S06E06.Fifteen.Paces.to.Fame.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+2.0.H.264-bigworm_track3_[eng]

THE OLD RANGER:
And now,Death Valley Days.

♪♪ [ trumpet ]

Howdy, folks.

I'’m the Old Ranger,

and I have another
interesting true story for you

about the historic
Death Valley country.

This is the story
of a young man

who went west to search
for gold in the earth of Nevada,

and found it instead
in a fame

that extended
around the world.

When all his mining ventures
had failed,

he took a job
as a reporter

on the Virginia City Enterprise,

where he first used
the pen name

destined for greatness,
Mark Twain.

But more than his name
was born there.

Virginia City
gave Mark Twain

a rugged frontier
style of humor

that almost ended his career
the year after it began.

I call the story...

OLD RANGER:
It is the spring of 1864,

and the country is engaged
in civil war.

The Virginia City
Sanitary Fund Commission

is raising money
for the 100,000 soldiers

lying wounded in hospitals.

Mark Twain, already
the most popular humorist

of the Comstock Country,
is right in there pitching.

[ cheering ]Quiet. Quiet, please.

For once...

I'’m gonna let an editor

from a rival paper
give you a piece of news.

Ladies and gentlemen,
I give you the man

who has christened
this flour sack cavalcade

"The Army of the Lord",

Mr. Mark Twain,
of the Territorial Enterprise.

[ cheering ]

Thank you, Tom Fitch,
of the Virginia Daily Union.

Friends, I got a powerful
lot of words inside of me.

You sure have, Mark.

Lots of them
you can'’t use here.

[ laughing ]

But I'’m gonna save them
for my column in the Enterprise,

because this is a time to
give it to you short and sweet.

The rival armies
of General Grant

and General Lee
are converging on Richmond.

And with every step,
soldiers are bleeding

with a thousand wounds.

But that'’s why we're here.

Because boys in blue
and boys in gray need bandages

and condensed milk
and beefsteak.

And we mean to give them
what they need.

[ cheering ]

This handsome
young Southerner,

Mr. Reuel Gridley,
had to carry this sack

through the streets
of Austin

because he lost
an election bet.

When he got through,
he put it up for auction

and the town paid
$3,500 for it.

Then he took it
to Silver City in Dayton

and raised
$4,000 more.

And our neighbors
at Gold Hill

put up $7,000.

Now, what'’s Virginia City
going to do?

Cover the entire amount.

[ cheering ]

My sentiments exactly.

Now who'’ll make
the first bid?

25!15!

[ all bidding ]

Wait a minute,
let'’s have one at a time.

The staff
of the Territorial Enterprise

bids $150.

Sold to the Enterprise
for $150.

[ cheering ]

Who'’ll buy next?

The employees
of the Daily Union

bid $300.

[ cheering ]

Sold to the Union
for $300.

He'’s trying to show us up.

Papa, it was Gantz
who made that bid.

I know his voice.I'’m proud of your lad.

But I'’m going to outdo him.

I bid $500!

Sold to Tom Cochran
for $500.

[ cheering ]All right, who'’ll
make the next bid?

Speak up, the next bid.

Hello, Jean.
Mr. Cochran.

Gantz.
I heard your bid.

I guess we showed up
the Enterprise,huh?

I'’m going over there
to give Mark Twain

a news item as soon
as this is over.

You mean you'’d actually
give news to a paper

that'’s our bitter rival?

Better keep
an eye on her, Gantz.

Could be she just
wants an excuse
to talk to Mark Twain.

[ chuckles ]Oh, Papa.

Why would you want
to talk to that big liar?

Liar?Well, isn'’t he?

Writing silly hoaxes
about a petrified man
that never existed,

and a terrible massacre
that never happened.

He was being funny.

Funniest stuff
I ever read in my life.

[ chuckling ]

I guess a mere
cub reporter

doesn'’t cut any ice
around here.

If you'’re talking
about this cub,

he just happens to be
the man I love.

Well, that'’s
more like it.

Joe Goodman'’s gonna be
mighty sore

if he finds out we spent
most of our time

selling flour instead
of getting out that paper.

My heaven, if Goodman
doesn'’t get back here

and take his job
off my neck,

my brains
are gonna blow out.

Every night it'’s think,
worry, and suffer

trying to fill
an editorial column.

[ laughs ]

How about
an editorial, Governor?

You got it ready?You chuckle-headed jokist.

You know I haven'’t even
thought of a subject.

You better get out
the encyclopedia

and shoot it
to me fast.

Hey.[ laughing ]

There wasn'’t anybody
in the outer office.

Come in.

I brought a little
news item, Mr. Twain.

It'’s about the Carson City
Fancy Dress Ball.

The ladies of Carson
are putting it on

for the Sanitary Fund.

You'’re the Virginia City
correspondent?

Oh, no, nothing
so impressive.

But my aunt
is on the committee

and she was hoping
a lot of people

from Virginia City
might drive down.

Are you going
to be there?

Oh, yes. Are you?

I mean, I know my aunt
would be very thrilled

if you could come.

Well, now.

Seems to me it'’s in
my line of duty
as a newspaperman

to cover such
an important occasion.

Oh, Mr. Twain,
would you?You can count on it.

♪♪ [ "Blue Danube Waltz"
by Strauss ][ indistinct chatter ]

♪♪

♪♪

GANTZ:
Darling, you'’re the most
beautiful girl at the ball.

♪♪

I would'’ve
coughed discreetly,

but I didn'’t want
to spoil anything
so obviously enjoyable.

I hope you won'’t
write it up in your column.

You won'’t find a word
under my byline.

Mr. Twain, there'’s something
I'’ve been dying to know.

How did you come
to choose your pen name?

That goes back to the days
when I was a pilot

on the Mississippi River.

It'’s a leadman's call.

All through the night
you can hear him shout,

"Mark Twain!
Mark Twain!"

What does it mean?Two fathom.

It was always
a pleasant sound

for a pilot to hear
on a dark night.

It meant safe waters.

I like the sound of it.
So rich and strong.

Well, my boss sent me
down here to Carson

to cover the meetings
of the legislature.

I figured if I was going
to be such a high muck-amuck

I better have a name
people could remember.

I'’ll always remember it.

Come on, Jean,
let'’s dance.

♪♪ [ fades out ]

A sucker,
that'’s what I am.

What'’s the trouble, Mark?

You'’re still sweating it out
in the encyclopedia?

A square-headed sucker,

letting Goodman
get away with it.

Having himself
a time in San Francisco

while I exhaust
my brain fibers

writing editorials for him.

Why don'’t you
attack somebody

and get the paper
into trouble?

That'’ll bring him back.

Serve him right if I did.

Now I have reached
the end of my strength.

Who took it?

Took what?My candle!

Steve?

Tag?I haven'’t
set eyes on it.

Show me the shifty
slumgullion that stole it

and I'’ll dust your jacket
off with a horse whip.

Oh, calm down, Vesuvius.
Here, you can take my lamp.

I can'’t abide
the smoky, smelly things.

Just let me get my hands
on the lunkhead

who expects me to write
in the dark and I'’ll--

If you'’re so itchy
for a fight

you could start one
on a paper so hot

it would light up
the whole office.

What'’re you talking about?

Remember the night
the printers of the Union

outbid us
for the flour sack?

Well, they'’ve
repudiated their bid.

Haven'’t paid a penny.They haven'’t, huh?

And I can give you
another little item.

The $3,000 the ladies
of Carson raised

at their Fancy Dress Ball
may never go to the fund.

The changeable
little darlings

are thinking about
using it for something else.

I'’ll take that lamp.

Now, just give me
all the facts

and I'’ll write
an editorial

that will scorch the paper
it'’s written on.

Steve, you first.Well, as I heard it,
it was like this...

[ gasps ]

[ laughing ]What is it?

Oh, that terrible
Mark Twain.

Margaret,
listen to this.

"It is stated
that the money raised

"at the Sanitary
Fancy Dress Ball

"recently held in Carson
has been diverted

"from it'’s legitimate course
and is to be sent

"to a miscegenation society
somewhere in the East."

[ laughing ][ groans ]

Tom Cochran,
I want you

to go out
and horse whip that man.

[ laughing ]Let me see that paper.

Well, the man'’s joking.

He says right here
that this is a hoax.

But not all hoax,
he says.

"For an effort
is being made

"to divert those funds
from their proper course."

I'’ll take it up
with my committee.

We'’ll send a letter
to the paper,

and we'’ll get
this impossible
Mark Twain fired.

Mr. Laird, have you seen
today'’s Enterprise?

No, what'’s
our rival up to now?Listen to this.

"How is it the Union
overbid us for the flour,

"and now, we are told,
has repudiated the bid?

"We would like to know
about this matter

"if we may make so free."

Who dare write that?

Mark Twain. Who else?

Well, this time
he'’s gone too far.

Man, have you
started something.

Have you seen
today'’s Union?

No, what'’re they saying?

You sure stirred up
a hornet'’s nest, Mark.

Listen to what
they say about us.

"Last year,
the Enterpriseitself

"appeared for a long time

"on the Sanitary Fund
delinquent list."

Listen to this.

"Now they'’re accusing us
of delinquency

"with a string
of despicable stuff

"knotted so full of lies
that there was not left
a space sufficient

"for the smallest
thread of truth."

"Never before have
we found an opponent

"who conveyed in every word
such a groveling disregard

"for truth, decency,
and courtesy

"as to seem to court
the distinction

"of being understood
as a vulgar liar."

You see that?
Jim Laird calls me a liar.

Here'’s another squib
that says you'’re

an unmitigated liar,
a poltroon and a puppy.

Those are fighting words!

Yes, sir,
that settles it.

This calls for blood.Blood?

Well, he'’s right, Mark.

You can'’t let Jim Laird
insult you like this.

You'’ve got to demand
a blood atonement.

Well, now, wait a minute.
I fight with a pen, not a .44.

Oh, this fight'’s
gone beyond that.

You can'’t let any man
call you a liar,

a poltroon and a puppy
and live.

No, sir, you can'’t.
Not if you got

any red blood
in your veins.

I got plenty
of red blood in my veins.

And I want
to keep it there.

Oh, Mark, look,
this is your chance

to become a big man
on the mountain.

Well, look at Joe Goodman.

He crippled Tom Fitch
for life in a duel.

Look at me, I faced
three men at 15 paces.

Wounded or killed
them all.

Here'’s your chance to get
a notch on your gun belt.

If you kill
a man in a duel,

you'’ll be more
looked up to

than as if you killed
two men any other way.

I got no hankering
to kill any man.

Besides, I can'’t hit
the side of a barn.

I'’ll write
another editorial.

You'’ll write a letter
to Jim Laird.

I will?Unless you want
to be disgraced

forever and ever.Well, no, but--

I'’ll help you write it.

You'’ll demand
a public retraction
of his insults,

or satisfaction
on the field of honor.

And I'’ll deliver it
to Jim Laird in person.

It'’s funny we haven't
heard from Laird.

He won'’t fight me.

After that
letter you wrote?You wrote.

He'’d have to be
bloodless as a fish

to let that pass. [ knock on door ]

Maybe that'’s
his answer.

I hope not.

Here you are, Mark.
Messenger just brought it
from the Union.

Well, go ahead.
Read it.

It'’s not from Laird at all.

It'’s signed
"J.W. Wilmington."

He claims he wrote
that article.

Says he has nothing
to retract.

Oh, probably some
cub reporter.

That poltroon puppy squib
was signed "Printer."

He must be the one.

Well, it'’s a sure thing
Laird wrote the other one.

Of course he did.
Furthermore, he'’s responsible
for both of them.

You'’re right,
he'’s the editor.

Look, we'’re not
fooling around with any cub.

We want the top man.Right.

"Any further attempt
to make a cat'’s paw

"of any other individual,
and thus shirk

"the responsibility
that you previously assumed

"will show that
you are a cowardly sneak.

"I know parenterally
demand of you

"the satisfaction
to a gentleman

"without alternative."

Well, that
ought to get him.

I'’ve sent for you, Gantz,
because I have a favor to ask.

Anything at all
I can do, Mrs. Cochran.

I know you'’re very loyal
to your newspaper

and to Mr. Laird.Yes, ma'’am.

Gantz, I have a letter
I want you to take to him.

A letter?Yes, and I want you

to put it
into his hands personally.

Oh, it'’s something
he'’ll be very glad to publish.

Well, I--

Gantz, I didn'’t know
you were here.

I asked him to come
on a little personal matter.

I'’ll be glad to give Mr. Laird
the letter, Mrs. Cochran.

Oh, Mother, not
the letter from the committee.

Why not? We'’ve sent it
to the Enterprise

and had no response.

I intend to see that
it'’s published in the Union.

I'’ll get it
for you, Gantz.

And I expect you
to keep your promise.

Gantz, you mustn'’t.

Mr. Twain is in
enough trouble already

with this feud
between the papers.

Just why are you
so concerned about him?

Because I'’m sure
it'’s all a misunderstanding.

He was only joking.

Then he'’s carried
his joke pretty far.

Today he challenged
Mr. Laird to a duel.

Oh, no.

Is Mr. Laird
going to accept?

Well, if he won'’t,
I know a half a dozen men

on the Unionwho will,
including me.

I just hope I'’m the one
that gets a chance at him.

Gantz, you can'’t have
a duel with Mark Twain.

You'’re a terrific shot,
you might kill him.

That'’s the general idea.

Why, you hot-headed fool.

I'’m a fool, all right.

Imagining you
were in love with me.

But that'’s a mistake
I won'’t make again.

If you'’re so mad
about Mark Twain

go get yourself
engaged to him.

Maybe you'’ll have
the pleasure of burying him.

I know Mr. Laird
will publish the letter

and make something
dreadful of it.

He already has.

One of my men got it
right off the press.

"The Enterpriselibel
of the ladies of Carson--"

[ gasps ]
Oh, Mr. Twain.

Even though you meant it
as a joke,

couldn'’t you
just apologize

before it causes
any more trouble?

As it happens, I wrote
the chairman of the committee

an apology yesterday.

But I can'’t print
a public apology just now.

You see, challenges
have already passed

between me
and Mr. Laird.

I know.

I had a fight
with my fiancé over it,

and he broke
our engagement.

He said the whole Unionstaff
wants to shoot you.

MARK:
If I'’ve done violence
to your love life

I deserve to be shot.

Mr. Twain, please don'’t
have a duel with Gantz.

I'’m awfully mad at him,

but I'’m terribly
in love with him.

Don'’t you worry.

I don'’t intend
to fight your Gantz,

or anybody
except Jim Laird.

And just between us,
I'’m counting on

keeping that fight
on paper.

Tag, Steve, I got
an answer from Laird!

Well, what does he say?

He won'’t fight, he's still
hiding behind that printer.

"If you decline to meet him
after challenging him,

"you will prove
yourself to be

"what he charged
you with being,

"a liar, a poltroon,
and a puppy."

"And, as such,
cannot be entitled

"to the consideration
of a gentleman."

Trying to shield
his craven carcass
behind Wilmington

when he knows
it'’s his own

scandalous editorial
I challenged.

You can'’t let him
get away with that.

The thing to do
is to post him

as a coward
in the morning Enterprise.

Well, now,
just a darn minute.

We don'’t want to carry
this thing too far.

Too far?
After his libelous attack?

Mark, you'’ve got to uphold
the honor of the paper.

Not necessarily, I don'’t
claim to be a gentleman.

My family was in trade.

Then you'’re a yeoman,
you'’re entitled to bear arms.

Come on, I'’ll help you
write a challenge

that'’ll send him
straight for his .44.

Here. Write.

Mark Twain has denounced me
as an abject coward

in this morning'’s Enterprise.

I'’m going to have to fight
or leave the country.

Tom, I'’ll sell you
my one-third interest

in the Unionfor half
it'’s value on credit,

if you'’ll assume
responsibility

for my article
and, uh, fight Mark Twain.

Well, can I buy you out
and then apologize to Mark?

My partners
won'’t stand for it.

Somebody'’s got to fight him
or it'’ll ruin the paper.

Mark and I
are personal friends.

TOM:
I decline to shorten
his young and beautiful life.

And I know he wouldn'’t
want to be guilty

of, uh, my taking of.

No. I'’ll buy
into your paper, Jim,

but I decline
to buy into your fight.

Oh, dear.

Mark, it'’s way
past midnight.

May as well give up, Tag.

Looks like there isn'’t
gonna be any duel.

And a darned good thing,
considering that new law

they just passed
against it.

Aw, they'’ll never enforce
that in this territory.

[ footsteps ]

Mark, it'’s here.

From Laird?

[ sighs ]
Go ahead, man, open it.

Well, what does it say?

He'’s accepting
my challenge.

He'’ll meet me
at sunrise.

Borrowed this
from a farmer down the road.

Make a good
practice target.

Now, just figure
that this rail is Laird.

He'’s about that skinny,
and aim at the squash.

[ cackles ]

If there'’s any
intellectual difference

between it and Laird'’s head
it'’s in favor of the squash.

[ laughing ]

Mark?

Hey, Mark.
What'’re you looking at?

I guess a man has a right
to enjoy the scenery

when it'’s his last day
on Earth.

[ groan ][ groan ]

Don'’t be pessimistic.

You'’ve got a good chance.

Come on,
let'’s pace it.

One...two...three...

four...five...six...

seven...eight...nine...

10...11...12...

13...14...15.

Get out your Colt.

Why, it'’s barely daylight.

How do you expect me
to hit that target?

It'’s as dark
as the inside of a cow.

You know the rules.

At the count of one,

you start raising
your gun slowly.

"One...two...three...

"fire...stop."

On the word "stop,"
you fire.

But not sooner.

Now, go ahead.

One...two...three...

fire...stop!

[ gunshot ]

Now you advance and go on
firing at your pleasure.

Pleasure? If I advance
at my pleasure,

I'’d let out with
my alpine foot
over that ridge.

[ gunshots in distance ]What'’s that?

It'’s Laird. His seconds are
rehearsing him over the ridge.

Hurry up, Mark, advance.

You'’re each allowed
six shots.

You mean...

...Laird gets
six shots at me?

Sure. Advance.

Come on, Mark.

[ gunshots ]

Well, you didn'’t
hit the squash.

Didn'’t hit
the rail, either.

What about the barn door?Oh.

No, there'’s not
a bullet hole in it.

Not even a nick.

I'’m a dead man.

TAG:
I promise you
one thing, Mark.

If worse comes to worse,
we'’ll give you a fine obituary.

Give me the gun.What'’s the idea?

A mud hen.[ gunshot ]

I got it.

[ whistles ]

Here, Mark,
take the gun.

Here comes
Laird'’s seconds.

Who shot the head
off that mud hen?

My man, Mark Twain.

How far off was he?

Oh, about, uh...
30 paces?

Yeah?

Can he do that often?

Every time.

He could do it
from twice that far.

We'’ll be back later.

[ giggling ]

He must be
a terrific shot, sir.

Well, in that case,
I won'’t fight him.

But you hit your target
13 times out of 18.

I don'’t care, I'm not
gonna get up against that man.

[ chuckles ]
Why, it'’d be murder.

Then I'’ll fight him.

Go ahead, fight him.

[ chuckles ]
If you want to be killed.

I am getting out of town.

JEAN:
Gantz!

Thank heaven,
I found you.

What did you
come here for?

To save Mark Twain?

I came to save you,
although I can'’t imagine why.

You'’re almost as stupid
as I am for being madly
in love with you.

Well, Mark, now that
your expert shooting

ended the duel,
how do you feel?

Like I'’ve been drinking
100 yard red-eye

and been drug through
a hole as big as Nelson'’s.

But mighty glad
to be alive.

[ laughing ] BOY:
Mr. Twain!

Sir? A message
came to the office.

From the Governor.Governor?

It'’s the new law
prohibiting dueling.

He said Judge Smith'’s
got a warrant out
for your arrest.

Smith? He'’s the one I wrote
that comical article about,
isn'’t he?

BOY:
Yes, sir, and he'’s gonna make
an example out of you.

The Governor suggests
that if you don'’t want

to spend two years
in the state prison,

you better get across
that state line

before the warrant
catches up with you.

You know, I just think
I'’d better take

the Governor'’s suggestion.

And that'’s how it was
that Mark Twain

walked the 15 paces that
took him out of Virginia City,

and on up the road to fame.

A fame so international,
that he became

the most widely-read
humorist in the world.

♪♪ [trumpet]