Original subtitles

Here's adventure!

Here's romance!

Here's O. Henry's famous Robin Hood of the Old West...

The Cisco Kid!

(gunshots) The fall knocked him out.

It's a good time for spring planting.

He's coming to.

Hold it.

Put your gun away.

Top hat, cape, looks like you got the right man, Proctor, but

you're a little too quick on the trigger.

You don't kill a man for robbing a bank.

Robbing a bank?

You do for murder, Sheriff.

Murder?

Yes.

Murder?

He kill somebody?

Only my best friend, London Harry.

I am Roderick Lamoreux, the world's greatest actor, and I

protest this outrageous issue of malicious fabrication.

What?

Well, still got the bank wrapper on it.

You're under arrest.

The greatest miscarriage of justice since Mary

Queen of Scots.

There you are, Sheriff.

That ought to wind up the formalities, Mr. Proctor.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

Something I can do for you, Miss?

Daughter!

Father!

A dramatic entrance, my dear Antoinette.

I have been incarcerated in this dank dungeon morning, afternoon,

and evening while you've been-- I just heard about it, Dad--

I mean, father.

And the whole town's talking about your trial and hanging.

Hanging?

Hanging me?

I shall underplay it.

My hands behind my back.

My head held high, my gaze fearless, no mask... wonderful.

Father, you're impossible.

Sheriff, this farce has gone on long enough.

I demand that you realize father immediately.

I'm afraid this isn't a farce, Ms. Lamoreux.

The bank was robbed by a masked man wearing a cape

and a top hat.

Ah!

A small portion of the money was found on your father--

But anyone could have-- Please, let me finish.

Further, a man known as London Harry tried to capture your

father after the robbery.

He was shot and killed by him.

Father killed somebody?

(laughs) Murder is no laughing matter,

Ms. Lamoreux.

I'm sorry, Sheriff.

But you see, father couldn't shoot anyone if he wanted to.

He's afraid of guns.

Daughter, how can you impunge the character of your own

father?

Father-- Please, Ms. Lamoreux,

we have eyewitnesses to the murder committed by your

father.

One of them is Mr. Proctor, the gentlemen who just

left.

He said he actually saw Father shoot and kill a man?

Here's his signed statement to that effect.

Impossible.

Sheriff, it seems someone will have to do your job for you.

Why, the claim that father could even shoot a bullet much less

hit anything with it are ridiculous.

Daughter, remember I am Lamoreux.

Oh, I guess I'll have to do something about this.

Antoinette!

Let her leave town, then scare her and scare her good.

(gunshot) (Antoinette screams)

Runaway wagon!

There's a girl in it, Cisco.

Are you all right, señorita?

Oh, thanks, I'm fine now.

I'm glad, señorita, but we must went quick.

Right, Pancho.

Wait!

I haven't thanked you nearly enough.

You saved my life.

Oh, you are right, we thank you too, señorita.

You two came right in time, in more ways than one.

I need help, more help, very badly.

First, my father is an actor, and back in town he was accused

of a terrible crime.

Well, I won't be sorry, señorita.

Your father is an actor, but I got worser news.

This pariente-- a relative of mine, Jose, is going to buy

a gold mine.

Why, I wouldn't let that excite me.

Most gold mines don't come to anything.

Tell you what, tie your horses on behind and

we'll ride into town together.

And I'll bring you up to date on the whole story.

You see, we gotta go awful quick to the rancho because

maybe the rancho that belonged to my family-- when Jose gets

through there won't be no more rancho!

Well, I don't understand you two.

Save my life, didn't you?

Well, now what do you want to do?

Let me ride on alone and maybe have another runaway?

Then what did you save my life for?

Besides, riding with me is not out of your way--

not much, anyway.

Señorita, we'll ride back with you.

Pancho and I never leave people in trouble when there is a

chance to help them.

Come on, Pancho.

Whoa!

But even if we stayed, señorita, I don't see what we

can do to help.

The sheriff is an honest man, isn't he?

Oh, he's honest, all right, but not very smart.

And call me Annie.

But señorita, if your father was actually seen committing the

crime, then it seems hopeless to me.

Well, don't bother.

Goodbye and thanks again.

Hey, what are you thinking about?

Pancho, I'm thinking that we would like to help her.

But if it is as she says and there were eyewitnesses there,

there's nothing we can do, amigo.

Cisco, you think maybe she was playing an impractical joke

on us?

I don't know, Pancho.

But certainly that runaway wagon was no joke.

There they are, Sheriff.

Arrest them.

Hate to do this to you strangers, but Ms. Lamoreux

claims you stole a pin from her, a gift from her dead mother.

What?

Look in their saddlebags, Sheriff, that's where

they put it.

See?

Do your duty and arrest them.

All right, gentlemen, let's take your guns.

Stop acting, Father, please.

This is real life, not the stage of a third-rate theatre.

These men can help you if you'll only tell them the truth--

all of the truth.

Daughter, I resent and protest your implication that I

ever played a third-rate theatre--

All right, I'm sorry.

But admit that you're afraid of guns.

Admit that yours was loaded with nothing but blanks.

Señor, please tell us.

Did you rob the bank?

Did you kill the man?

Gentlemen, I appreciate your well-meaning interference in my

affairs, but I beg you, leave me now!

Leave me alone and friendless, deserted by an only daughter.

Oh, I give up.

I only hoped father would tell you the truth for once and you

two could help him.

Sheriff, release them.

I tricked them.

I put the brooch in Cisco's saddlebag.

Sheriff, if I could plant my brooch in Cisco's saddlebag,

surely someone could've planted the bank money in father's

pocket.

That doesn't explain the murder, Ms. Lamoreux.

A respected citizen, the owner of our hotel, Mr. Jed Proctor,

he saw your father kill London Harry.

Oh, I give up if father won't help.

I'm sorry.

Thanks again.

I'm sorry I tricked you.

You're welcome, señorita.

Adios.

Goodbye.

Cisco, it's too bad we couldn't did anything for that

man and his daughter, no?

It's terrible, Pancho.

It's really terrible.

Well, I think we better eat first.

We have a long ride ahead of us.

Let's try the hotel.

Now look, there are two men coming in here from across the

street.

I want them discouraged for good, you understand?

Good day, gentlemen, what can I do for you?

Is there a restaurant in this hotel?

Yes, sir, right through that door.

I-- I suppose you came to town to see the hanging, huh?

See, I feel pretty strongly about that murder.

That dead man was my best friend.

I just came from his funeral.

But the worst thing was when I saw poor old London Harry

get it.

Fast funeral, wasn't it?

Fast or slow, poor old London Harry's dead.

Well, we're not gonna wait for the hanging.

Where did you say the restaurant was?

Right through there.

Pardon me.

Come on, get up!

Andale!

Get out.

Go on!

You always like to see your customers knocked around,

mister?

I never interfere in other men's battles.

It's a policy of mine.

Come on, Pancho.

Let's go.

That hotel man-- he saw those two men sneaking behind us.

Yet he kept talking without warning us.

That's right, Cisco.

And he is the man who says that he saw Mr. Lamoreux

commit the murder.

And he just came back from London Harry's quick funeral.

You know something, Pancho?

What?

I didn't hear anybody else say that he was at that funeral.

You know, Cisco, it's awfully strange, I didn't hear nobody

talk about that funeral, too.

There is the General Store.

Hey, what are you gonna buy?

Shovels.

(moaning sound) Mm, Cisco?

Yes, Pancho?

You hear what I hear?

(imitates groan) Was that you or Harry London?

London Harry.

Harry London, London Harry, I don't care, Cisco!

Tell him not to speak from his grave!

We're just about ready to take a look, Pancho.

You look, not me, no.

Hey, Pancho, he's not here!

Who-- he's not-- not here?

That proves that the señorita's father is innocent.

Absolutamente, Cisco, ab-- how?

Well, how could Lamoreux kill London Harry if London Harry's

not dead?

Cisco, you mean Señor Proctor-- go to a funeral to

bury just a cloak and a hat?

Either Proctor or one of his men wore these things while they

robbed the bank.

And they tried to frame the señorita's father.

Cisco, you mean to told me that Proctor is a-- is a-- a-- a

ban banket?

That's right, Pancho.

We'll have to get the sheriff and show him this before we fill

it up again.

Come on, let's go.

Let's went.

Since all we found in the grave was a copy of your cape, I

can't hold you on a murder charge.

Ah.

This bank robbery thing-- well, you tell him, Cisco.

It's your idea.

Well, we're all convinced that you are innocent, Señor

Lamoreux.

But there is one thing you can do to help us get the guilty

one.

The man named Proctor.

Now, it's this way.

If he say that you shoot the London Harry, and London Harry

is still alive, then he don't tell the truth.

And he could be the man who take the gold and the money

from the bank.

Well, father will be glad to help.

What do you want him to do?

To be an actor.

You imply that I am not?

No, no, we just want you to play an English actor.

Oh, quite so, sir, quite so.

We'd like you to be a British lawyer that has just arrived in

town from England.

Permit me to present myself.

I am Sir Ian Featherstone Swigsbottom, a barrister-- what?

It's very good, Señor Lamoreux very good.

And there's one more thing we'd like you to do, Señor Lamoreux.

We would like you to be completely disguised.

Well, that's simple.

Father can take off his toupee.

Toupee?

Yes, like this.

Ah!

Betrayed by my own flesh and blood.

Then he can wash the dye out of his hair and the gray

will show.

Dye?

My hair, gray?

Why, it's slander!

Cisco, he don't want to collaborate with us.

Maybe we should let him hang?

Oh, no, no, I've quite decided not to play that role.

Well, I don't blame you little bit to myself, because I

don't think I would like that.

I don't think...

(imitates choking) No, no, I don't think I want

to play on that role, too.

No, you're quite right, sir.

I shall perform your masquerade for you.

And the victim will be completely hoodwinked.

I-- I will go and get some soap and water and wash his hair

good, no?

Yes!

Oh, a martyr!

But at least a martyr to my art.

Porter?

Porter?

Oh, cheerio, my good bonny face.

You have no porter in this tavern?

No, sir.

Well, I pray that you have a vacant room to let.

And I may say, water.

I'm quite hot, you know, after my jolting jarring journey over

your dusty moors.

Sorry, sir, but I'm a little weak on foreign languages.

You speak any English?

Well, that's strange.

I'm English myself.

You know, yes, English, very English.

If I were any more English, I couldn't talk at all!

May I present myself?

Please do.

Sir Ian Featherstone Swigsbottom-- barrister, London.

Barrister?

A man of the law.

Lawyer.

My dear sir, could you perchance inform me of the

present whereabouts of one Harry Hanley?

Well, that might be a little difficult right now.

You mind telling me what you want to see him about?

Not at all, not at all-- it's a matter of a legacy,

you know.

A rather large one, I might add.

Considerably more than 300,000 pounds.

A respectable sum.

What?

Yeah, sounds big.

Yeah.

How much is that in our kind of cash?

Oh, rather neatly more than $1,000,000.

A million dollars?

Yeah.

Poor Harry.

Well, that's rather an odd description for a wealthy heir.

Um, poor Harry?

Well, you see, sir, Harry's dead.

He was murdered.

We just buried him yesterday.

And he was my best friend.

Dead?

Murdered?

I'm truly sorry, sir.

Who-- who are his family?

He didn't have any, sir.

None at all.

But he did leave a box of personal belongings.

I'll be glad to go through them with you, sir, to see if he left

any will.

My dear, sir, you have no idea how much I appreciate your

cooperation.

The pleasure's all mine, Sir Ian, all mine.

Uh...

Here's your key.

Room 14, just at the head of the stairs.

Yes, of course, of course.

It worked, Pancho.

Hi, boys.

Hi.

Carl, get that bank money, we're gonna split it now.

It's about time.

Come on.

Hey, Harry, how old were you when you left England?

Oh, I don't know, three or four-- just a baby.

Why?

You ever hear of your Uncle Horris?

I don't know.

But like I said, I haven't been there for years,

since I was a baby.

Why?

Well, it seems your Uncle Horris died, leaving you more

than a million bucks.

A million bucks?

Mine?

Yeah.

There's a British lawyer in town come to give it to you.

Now, wait a minute!

Where do you think you're going?

A man's in town with a million dollars, wants to give

it to me.

Where do you think I'm going?

You're not going anywhere.

You're dead, dead and buried, remember?

Well, if you think it's-- Now, wait a minute.

Don't let that worry you.

I know how we can get that dough legal.

How?

You make out a will, date it a couple months ago, leaving

everything to me, your best friend.

I inherit your inheritance, we split it.

We're both rich.

That's a deal.

Carl, get a pencil and some paper, will you?

Now, I'll show you how to make out this will.

All right, write this, "I, Harry Hanley..."

All right, men, witness it.

Pancho, that's the stolen bank money in that chest.

You're a real pal, Jed.

Now I'll get what's coming to me.

Yeah, now you'll get what's coming to you.

All right, boys.

What are they gonna do with them shovels?

I'll tell you, Harry.

There's been something wrong from the very beginning with our

little plan-- a bad flaw.

You.

You're supposed to be dead, but you're not.

Lucky for me, that's something easy to fix.

You can't-- you can't kill me, Jed.

I'm your friend.

Your best friend!

That's what makes it so good.

That's why that Englishman will believe you made that will

leaving everything to me.

Don't Jed!

No!

(gunshot) Pancho, inside.

Come with me.

Carl, you go the other way.

You!

You stay right there!

Sure is a pleasure to right finish to this case.

Pancho, all the thanks in the world will never cover what we

owe you and Cisco.

Truly, Pancho, you and Cisco have justly acquired a rare and

precious thing.

the eternal gratitude of Roderick Lamoreux.

Although I assuredly would have been a splendid spectacle

mounting the gallows.

Oh, Cisco, I am glad to see you.

Why did you was for such a long distance, you know?

Cisco, you know, it's getting later then getting sooner, and

our rancho, the family rancho, is not getting no closer.

Oh, Pancho, I forgot.

I have a telegram for you.

It must be from Jose.

A tele Pancho-- Jose?

Oh!

I'm sure, Cisco, the rancho is gone forever.

No!

No, Cisco, it's from Jose.

He invest in gold mine have already struck it rich with lots

of ore.

Oh!

We are rich!

Oh, Cisco, we are rich!

Oh, Pancho.

Oh, Cisco!

(laughs) Well, this is where

we leave you, amigos!

But we'll be back soon!

Look for us!