All language subtitles for The Life and Legend of Wyatt Earp S02E07 A Quiet Day in Dodge City-resync

♪ Wyatt Earp, Wyatt Earp ♪

♪ Brave, courageous and bold ♪

♪ Long live his fame, and long live his glory ♪

♪ And long may his story be told ♪

The law-abiding element in Dodge City

was a shame to their town's reputation

as the Gomorrah of the western frontier.

That's why they hired Wyatt Earp to be their marshal

in 1876, but it takes time and money to civilize

a tough town. The city fathers of Dodge

were understandably alarmed when they heard that a reporter

for the great and influential New York Herald

would be stopping off to write a story about conditions.

As for Marshal Earp, it would be a cruel test

of his efficiency as a peace officer.

Dozens of penny shockers have spread the bad name

of Dodge City throughout the land,

but if a correspondent of the New York Herald

could be impressed by one quiet day...

So, this is the rip-roaring Dodge City, eh?

Where's the dead man they serve up for breakfast?

Mr. Jensen, welcome to Dodge.

I'm George Hoover, the mayor.

Oh. How do you do?

And these gentlemen are council members Kelly...

Sir.

Moffat... How do you do?

Gail... Hello.

And our marshal, Mr. Earp.

Howdy?

Well, the famous Mr. Earp.

When's the shooting start, Marshal?

Well, I kind of asked all the boys to hold off on that

until after you got here.

I think the first thing on the program is breakfast.

Why, yes, yes, at my house.

The rig's just across the street.

Thank you very much, sir.

Oh, isn't Mr. Earp coming with us?

Well, of course.

Oh, thanks, but I've got to feed my prisoners.

I'll see you later.

By all means. I'll expect an interview.

Marshal Earp! Marshal Earp!

Fight, fight! Mom says you'd better come in a hurry!

Shh, Toby, Toby, just not so loud.

But mom says you've got to step them from fighting, or she will.

All right, all right now.

Who's fighting?

Bosco that belongs to Mr. Willard

and Avery that belongs to Mr. Sam Donovan.

Mom says it's against the law,

and if you don't stop them, she'll do it with a shotgun.

Where's the fight?

Behind the Long Branch Saloon,

right next to our backyard.

I'll be with you in a second.

Hurry, sir. You don't need to put on your coat.

Mom will get to shooting.

Get out! Shut up!

Didn't you men hear what I said?

Oh, no. It's her again.

I sent Toby for the marshal,

but if he don't come and stop it, I'll stop it.

Keep your temper, Sarah.

Dog fighting is a sport, like boxing or any...

No, it ain't!

When men fight, that's their business,

but sic'ing two poor dogs on each other,

that's dirty, mean and cruel.

Pay no attention, Sam. Are all the bets in?

All the bets down? Come on, let's...

Form a circle, men! Form a circle.

Spread out! Spread out!

I want Jack to get the first barrel

and Sam the other one.

Don't shoot, mom! I brought Marshal Earp!

Sorry, gentlemen. No dogfights.

Yeah, why not?

'Cause you're disturbing Mrs. Cullen,

and I don't like dogfights.

Oh? You just like to fight with guns, huh?

Well, I tell you, Mr. Willard.

I don't mind a good fistfight.

Why don't you and Mr. Donovan fight?

I'll referee.

It's a good idea.

If you want your dogs to do the fighting for you,

then you'd better go outside the city limits, where I can't stop you.

We'll have it some other time,

when nosy Sarah ain't around.

And how about her threatening us

with that gun, Deacon Earp?

Well, I'll tell you, Mr. Donovan.

You can file a complaint, but then I'd have to

charge you with cruelty to your dog.

Me, cruel to him?

You've been starving Avery

to keep him in bad temper. You just move along,

Mr. Donovan. I haven't finished my breakfast yet,

and I'm kind of bad-tempered myself.

You'd better put away that gun, Mrs. Cullen.

Sure, Mr. Earp, and I thank you kindly.

It's just about time for Toby to get ready

for Sunday School, isn't it?

Aw, mom, do I gotta?

Yes. Come on.

But Mr. Earp needs me. Something else might happen,

and I'm a Special Deputy on Saturdays and Sundays,

ain't I, Mr. Earp?

Oh, you've been a mighty big help, Mr. Toby.

No, he hasn't he goes galloping after you

yelling bloody murder.

But mom!

There's a newspaperman from New York in town.

Now, what will he think of us?

No chasing after Mr. Earp today,

and not a yell out of you.

Yes'm. So long, Mr. Earp.

I'll put you back on the force next weekend, Toby.

Yes, sir.

Oh, thanks, Tom.

Sure.

Nice quiet Sunday, Wyatt.

You can use one.

The whole town can use one, especially today.

Oh, you're talking about that newspaper fellow

over at Mayor Hoover's huh?

Mm-hmm. The eyes of the New York Herald are upon us.

Who cares what they think?

Well, I'll let you in on a little secret.

See, the city's trying to borrow some money

and an awful lot depends on how much...

Marshal Earp, Marshal Earp!

Uh-oh.

Gosh, Mr. Earp. Didn't you hear the fire bell?

It's Old Man Caley's shed.

I saw the smoke, just as I started...

Toby. For Sunday School, and the flames...

Yes, sir?

The Fire Department will take care of Mr. Caley's shed.

Toby, why don't you stop dogging Mr. Earp?

He started one breakfast, then...

All right, all right.

The shed will burn clean down

before they get those firemen collected.

Poor old man.

What?

Mr. Caley's in the shed, dead drunk.

Oh, excuse me for mentioning it.

I know the shortest cut, sir!

You try and eat the breakfast.

You stay here.

Don't try it, Mr. Earp! You'll get burnt up!

Old Man Caley's in the shed.

Marshal Earp went in after him.

A darn fool stunt. Start dipping your buckets.

This is cool water, boys!

It's mighty hot in there.

Guess I'll make a try getting Earp out.

He's drunk, dead to the world.

Let her burn, boys. Save the water

in case the house starts to hot up.

All right, then. We won't use it.

Mighty spunky work, Marshal,

but you ought to arrest him.

The third fire he started this year.

It's "grand arsony," Mr. Earp.

Ah, it's just too much to drink.

Now you keep him there. Make him watch it burn.

Let his house burn, too, have a stronger effect.

Now don't you worry, Mr. Caley.

They won't let your house burn.

You've still got plenty of time

to make Sunday School.

What are you sore at me for?

I didn't yell fire on the street.

I'm not sore. You did a good deed.

Then I don't have to go.

I can coast maybe until next Sunday.

Master Toby, you are in no state of grace

to allow any coasting.

But I helped you save Mr. Caley and the shed!

Do you want me to cancel your appointment as special deputy?

No, sir. I'll go, I'll go.

Excuse me, Mr. Jensen. I'm sorry to keep you waiting.

Not at all, marshal. Trouble in town?

Nothing like that. Just a quiet normal day.

Excuse me. I'm going to get myself

a little slicked up for church.

Now, marshal. Aren't you pulling my leg?

In what way, Mr. Jensen?

All this talk about how quiet and peaceful Dodge City is.

I've had quite a bit of it from your mayor and councilman.

Is this town really civilized?

Uh, no, sir, not yet.

How long have you been marshal here, Mr. Earp?

Oh, about three months now.

How many men have you had to kill in the line of duty?

Well, none, so far.

Really?

But there have been killings here,

pitched gun battles, that sort of thing?

Oh, yeah, and a few killings and gunfights.

But this is just a normal quiet day,

not a shot fired since...

Excuse me, Mr. Jensen. I'll be back in a minute.

Go on!

Hal, lock 'em up.

Come on, back here.

Drunk and discharging weapons in the street.

Those men were just showing off, Mr. Jensen.

Well, nobody got hurt.

No. I wish you'd put that in your paper.

You know, 90% of all the wildness in Dodge

is just bragging and bluster like that.

You see it's...

Indians, Indians!

Indians, Mr. Earp!

A big bunch of dull knife's men on the warpath.

It will be a "massacree!" Reverend Halcott

sent everybody home from Sunday School, and...

Hold it.

Now, uh...

There's no truth in this, is there, Toby?

Yes, sir. There sure is. They're right outside

the town, and they sent a message to mayor Hoover.

Are you sure?

There he is now, and Mr. Kelly. That will prove it.

Now, now, son. It's all right.

I can't understand this, Wyatt.

A buffalo hunter brought it in.

He says there's a war party of Cheyennes this side of the river.

Folks are getting a little excited, Wyatt.

Excited? They're scared!

Mom's loading the shotgun with slugs.

Yeah, they want to send a powwow man into town.

Guess I'd better ride out there.

Alone? Oh, heaven save us all.

Mr. Jensen, I kind of like to have you

go along with me out there.

Well, I...

Why, that's foolhardy, Wyatt.

Why don't we let the powwow man

come in and say what he has to say?

Because he wouldn't get 50 yards down front street.

I don't think there's too much risk in it, Mr. Jensen.

Anyway, I'd kind of like to have you see

how wild rumors run in our town.

Very well. Glad to accompany you, marshal.

Wyatt, you want to get him killed by Indians?

If he's even scratched, the New York Herald...

Mr. Mayor, I take it for granted that Mr. Jensen

is here to write the truth about us,

isn't that right, Mr. Jensen?

That's right, Mr. Earp.

Can we borrow your buggy?

Oh, and keep young Toby here.

Dull knife and his people

are on the warpath, you know.

Oh, we're friendly.

I helped Mr. Cousin and Mr. Brother.

They're blood kin. Dull knife promised

safe conduct to me and anybody with me.

The Cheyennes out there know that?

I sure hope so.

You see.

Are your friends here?

No.

What's the trouble?

No trouble much.

My brother got arrow in leg.

He want white man's doctor.

Put him on a horse.

You shoot him, huh?

No.

What is your name?

Earp. Wyatt Earp.

Mr. Cousin of yellow hand say you are good man.

Is there also good white doctor?

Doc McCarthy.

Very good doctor.

I will put my brother on horse.

I'm most grateful, Mr. Earp.

This is the best story I've collected on my travels,

quiet and no violence.

Way to miss church. If you like that,

you'll be my guest for dinner.

Thank you, but I doubt if I'll have much

of an appetite. Indians scare me.

We've given them so many good reasons to shoot.

Marshal Earp! Marshal Earp!

You'd better come quick.

It's Frogface Perkins and Mr. Kelly.

Frogface says he's going to shoot Mr. Kelly,

and Mr. Kelly, he's got a gun!

All right, all right. Why don't you break it up?

Perkins ain't armed. I figure it's a lot of talk.

No, it ain't. There'll be a bloody gunfight, Mr. Earp.

Toby, I think your mother wants you.

I'll take the Indian on over to doc McCarthy's.

Mr. Jensen, I'll see you over at the Dodge house in about ten.

And I say you're a cheating squanderer, Kelly!

You just hang on to that gun.

I'm going to get my own gun!

Whoa, Mr. Perkins.

Now what's all this row between you and Mr. Kelly?

He knows. Maybe he'll tell you.

Let him go for his gun, Wyatt. I ain't running.

Now wait a minute.

Put that gun up, Mr. Kelly.

Now there's not going to be any gunfighting today.

If I catch either one of you with a gun,

there's going to be trouble. You understand?

All right. You're the law.

Councilman Kelly.

I'm in the right of the quarrel!

Well, then fight it out some other day.

Just when I got this newspaperman thinking

we're half-civilized, you go and bust loose.

Ah, I told George Hoover we can never hide what we are.

Let them New York papers print what they like.

Mr. Kelly, $100,000 is a big loan in these days.

We won't get it.

But we might!

If Jensen doesn't go and print us up as a rowdy bunch.

Now I'm going to ask you as a personal favor

not to get in any trouble today.

How about it?

Well, for what Perkins called me,

I should blow his gizzard out;

But I owe you the favor.

Thank you, Mr. Kelly.

Erin go bragh.

Porterhouse steak, 25 cents.

Roast of buffalo hump, 30 cents.

Prairie chicken fricassee, 20 cents.

I'll have to show this menu to Delmonico's

when I get back to New York.

Oh, I recommend the quail on toast. It's very good.

But that's 50 cents!

I don't want to put on airs.

You get two whole quail, one you can eat

with vegetables and all.

Hmm. Well...

Yes, it's just a horse race.

I kind of wish

the boys wouldn't use front street though.

Well, Sally, I'll start with some oysters

and some quail on toast...

Marshal Earp, marshal Earp!

I thought I told you that you were supposed...

It's a crooked race, Mr. Earp.

The Bardy rider fouled the Lazy Acres pony.

Will you please go home?

Yes, sir, but don't blame me

if the lazy acres go for their guns,

and if they don't kill a few, the gamblers will.

But don't blame me.

You go ahead and order. I'll be right back.

Shut up! Shut up!

Let him talk!

Our horse got fouled.

You hit him across the face with your quart,

just as he was going up past you.

We won fair and square. You lazy acres

are just cry-babying to get out of paying the bets.

We ain't paying no bets!

You know it well that you're nuts.

We'll get our guns, and then we'll collect.

We've got guns, too.

Let's get this settled!

Quit it! Quit it!

Now I don't know who is fouled, and I don't care,

but I'm calling all bets off.

All right. Can we run the race over?

Next Sunday.

What big-headed notion is this, Earp?

You can't tell us when...

Yes, I'm telling you. Now, all bets are off,

and the race is postponed one week. You understand?

Now break it up.

Go on!

Where's Jensen?

Oh, he went with Mr. Kelly.

Went up to Boothill just before dark.

Yeah, I reckon they went back

to Kelly's place to have a drink.

Yeah.

Well, do you think they put it over?

Hope so. You want some milk?

No, no. Well, it has been a quite day.

No killings, no gunfights and only two arrests.

Yeah, well, we all tried to sit on the lid.

Jensen couldn't write

anything wild and woolly about us.

Well, not yet, no, but I'll sure be a lot happier

when he's on that night stage for Kansas City.

Maybe you should've stayed with him, Wyatt.

Well, he took quite a shine to Jim Kelly.

Wish I had more confidence in Jim.

Come on, you like Mr. Kelly.

Anyway, he's what the newspapermen

call a gullible personality.

Yes, that's right, but...

Toby, are you still dogging Mr. Earp around?

No, sir.

Well, there must be good news.

Whenever it's bad news, he comes in on the gallop.

I guess it's good.

What do you mean, Toby?

Well, I don't think Frogface Perkins could actually

kill Mr. Jensen. He might kill Mr. Kelly,

but what's he got against Mr. Jensen?

Well, come on out with it. Did Frogface have his guns?

Uh, gun, yes, sir.

Well, then what happened?

I mean, where are they?

Boothill cemetery.

Good heavens! Tell us, boy.

Nothing much to tell, I guess.

Frogface Perkins sneaked up and climbed up Boothill.

Well, then what did they do?

Well, he said he was going to shoot Mr. Kelly

and then shoot Mr. Jensen 'cause he'd be a witness,

but I don't think he'd actually shoot Mr. Jensen.

Well, how long ago was this?

Just before dark.

Good heavens above!

What happened after Perkins put a gun on him?

I don't know. I got scared and ran.

It would soon be dark in Boothill,

and that's a scary place, and...

I wouldn't be scared with Mr. Earp along.

Is it all right, if I go, too?

No, you go home, and if I ever catch you

running after Mr. Earp again, I'll...

I'll send you to reform school.

Reform school?

The reform school!

Oh, no. Reform school...

Your time is about up, Kelly.

You're going to buy a footstone for my pal's grave.

Never! I spent all the money you gave me

for the headstone, and $12 more.

Why, that headstone ain't worth no $70.

You're a no-good cheat, Kelly.

You're the lowest skunking cheat there is,

robbing the dead.

Mr. Perkins.

Yeah?

I see no need for this morbid talk.

I don't defend Mr. Kelly.

He's a stubborn Irishman.

Ha-ha! You hear that, Kelly?

But that's no reason for committing cold-blooded murder.

I'm reaching for money, not a gun.

I don't want your money.

I want him to pay.

Not one red cent.

All right.

I'll give you 10 seconds to say a prayer.

Now start praying.

You start. Shoot him, Wyatt!

I ought to break his arm. Go ahead!

No. Stop it. That wouldn't make

nice reading in the Herald, Mr. Earp.

No, I guess it wouldn't, Mr. Jensen.

Come on, Mr. Kelly.

Give me a hand over to Doc McCarthy's.

Get the scalp stitched up.

You're hooligans, all of you.

Ruthless, brutal hooligans!

Listen to that now. You keep Frogface

from murdering the both of us,

and he calls you names.

He'll change his mind

when he's had a chance to think about it.

Hold on! Hold it!

I'll take a look in your trunk rack, if you don't mind.

Oh, it's you, Mr. Earp.

You hold up stages in your spare time?

I thought so.

Oh, Mr. Earp.

Now come on. Get out of there.

All right, Willy. Go on.

Giddy-up! Hee-yah!

Bye, Mr. Jensen.

Now what did you think you were doing?

Mayor Hoover threatened to send me to reform school.

Well, that's just a joke, Toby.

But what Mr. Jensen...

Get to be an old man

and read about Dodge City in the history books, well,

there just won't be any quiet days at all.

Why?

Well, because the quiet days,

the ones where people didn't do any fighting

or killing or steal each other blind, well,

they just won't be counted in the history books.

But doesn't the good Lord

count them, Mr. Earp?

Yes, Toby. He counts them.

♪ Well, he cleaned up the country ♪

♪ The old Wild West country ♪

♪ He made law and order prevail ♪

♪ And none can deny it ♪

♪ The legend of Wyatt ♪

♪ Forever will live on the trail ♪

♪ Oh, Wyatt Earp, Wyatt Earp ♪

♪ Brave, courageous and bold ♪

♪ Long live his fame and long live his glory ♪

♪ And long may his story be told ♪

♪ Long may his story ♪

♪ Be told ♪