Original subtitles

I'll race you to the Keel place, Trampas!

Yo!

Come on, let's move! Come on! Go!

Come on! Yee!

Ahh.

Uh, Mr. Keel?

Mr. Keel!

Mr. Keel?

Mr. Keel?

Aaah!

Aaaaah!

It's only a little nerve tonic.

Just swallow it down.

Better?

Maybe you ought to lie down,

try to nap a little.

I'm afraid if I close my eyes,

I'll see his body all twisted.

You know, I saw Keel in town yesterday.

He must've been killed today,

or maybe last night.

Why don't you ride over to the line camp,

send some of the boys out on a search.

All right.

You take Hank with you,

search along the main flats.

Yes, sir.

Do I have to?

All of it.

Whoa, now.

Take it easy.

What do you want?

Just want to ask some questions.

Where'd you come from?

Latvia. We come from Latvia.

We have papers.

Everything is signed.

I will show you.

That's all right. I meant, where'd you come from just now?

Down the pass or across the flats back there?

From town, that way.

Beatty Corners?

Trail comin' that way

cuts right past the Keel place.

I guess we'll have to look inside.

Sorry, mister, but I gotta--

No! No way.

You don't understand.

I understand. I understand good now.

When we first landed, I thought everything would be different.

No more sound of boots. No more men with gun...

who tell cattle worker what he must do.

But I learned. I learned good now.

We're not out to steal anything,

if that's what you think.

If we aimed to clean you, we'd have done it by now.

Mister, that little old pea-patch gun you got there

ain't fast enough to take two men.

Maria, stop!

All right, Hank. Look through the wagon now.

You get hurt?

I'm sorry it come to a roughing,

especially when there's no need for trouble.

If you would've waited and listened,

I would've told you that--

Well, it's not you folks in particular.

I got orders to stop anybody out here,

anywhere that's near the killing. Killing.

An old man, about 12 miles back.

Beaten to death and robbed clean.

We know nothing.

Karl, please. You tell them.

Nothing.

Just a mess of old cookin' pots.

Couple of blankets.

A sack of salt beef chips.

I'm sorry we troubled you.

You did say you cut straight across the flats

from Beatty Corners? Not down the pass from Medicine Bow?

Yeah. Why?

It's from Harry's gun shop, all right.

I'm certain Keel had a rifle from there.

I'd wager sinkers to mud beer that's the one.

I can explain you where I got the rifle from.

You'll get a chance to explain it to the sheriff in town.

Get back in the wagon.

Go on! Karl!

I'd listen real close to your wife, mister.

Maria!

You all right, ma'am?

Is your wife pregnant?

Yeah.

Head goes around.

I'm all right now.

With her in that kind of condition,

we'd better head 'em into Shiloh.

Help them into the wagon.

Let's go, come on.

I just wondered if there was anything I could do, Mrs. Rilke.

No.

No, thank you.

No. But could I see Karl now, please?

He's all right. He's downstairs with my father.

You just rest for now.

You've got two months yet to see through.

You're wrong, Mr. Rilke.

This is a free country.

To search a man, to arrest him--

That is free?

You don't understand. My men had the right to arrest you.

They had no right. They were not officers.

That's true.

But in this country, any citizen can make an arrest

if he has reason to believe that a felony has been committed.

We were looking for a murderer.

I'm not a murderer.

Well... you'll have every chance.

Here, to arrest a man,

you can do that without wearing a uniform.

Yeah.

Where I come from,

only officials take such responsibility.

Well, that's one of the obligations in a democracy.

To make it work, everybody must take responsibility.

You alone? Yeah.

My deputy's coming out later with the Keel boy--Johnny.

He knows about his father?

We hunted him down in the Silver Bow.

He was with one of your men--Shorty Downs.

We had to take him out to his Pa's place,

see if anything was missing.

How did Johnny take it?

He sobered up real hard.

I thought there was bad blood between them.

Well, I guess even bad blood is thicker than water.

Inside? Yo.

Judge. This him?

Karl Rilke.

Do you understand English all right?

Good. I've got some questions to ask you.

I warn you--you don't have to answer them.

Anything you say now can be used against you later.

Warn?

That's another peculiarity

of our law, Mr. Rilke.

You don't have to answer any questions if you don't want to.

And the sheriff is required to tell you that.

But if you do answer,

whatever you say becomes official,

can be used-- either against you of for you.

Do you understand?

I answer what I can.

Good. Now, about the gun

that belonged to Mr. Keel.

Is this it?

Trampas says you told him you bought it

from a man along the road.

Right?

But you can't identify him?

I don't know his name.

What he looked like? What he was wearing?

He was big-- a big man.

Big

Or him?

I--I don't know.

I--

He had a black shirt

and a big hat and yellow hair.

Yellow hair. Blond, huh?

How do you know that if he was wearing a hat?

I don't know. I--

Shorty, there's no need for us here.

Let's head into the bunkhouse.

I'll be in the bunkhouse if you need me, Johnny!

You're pumping a little hard, aren't you, Sheriff?

Just part of the job you people are paying me to do, Judge.

Mr. Keel, too, for that matter.

You say you bought the gun.

You got a receipt? Receipt?

A paper.

No.

Take it easy, Johnny.

Is that him? Johnny!

Johnny! He killed him!

Johnny, that's enough!

Won't do you any good, not now.

You saw my pa-- what's left of him.

We're all sorry about what happened to your father.

Then why don't you give that foreigner what's comin' to him, then?

He hasn't even been charged with anything yet,

much less tried and convicted.

He had my pa's gun, didn't he?

He had a gun from Harry's shop in Medicine Bow,

but there are a lot of those around this stretch of country.

Well, if you look at it,

you'll find a pea-sized chip gone from under the stock

right near the pump guard.

I snuck it off once when I was a kid.

I dropped it on a rock squirrel hunting.

My pa laid the hide off of me for it.

Yeah, the chip's here, all right, right where he said.

That's proof enough he done it, ain't it?

A piece of evidence.

It isn't proof of anything.

I bought the gun...

with money I earned with my hands. I bought it!

You think a man that killed somebody would turn around,

sell all the things in the same neighborhood?

He'd be askin' to be strung up. Now, he did it!

He robbed him clean of a watch, a ring, and near a thousand bills,

and half of it mine by rights from my ma!

Johnny, we searched the wagon.

There wasn't anything like that in it.

Then he must've hid it.

He done it. Who else could've?

The facts point to him, I'll say that.

Then how come you ain't takin' him in?!

I'm handling this. You just settle down.

Why should I? It was my pa he killed.

Sure, he was a hard man. Stuck tight to his own ways,

and rock-mean when it come on him, but he my pa.

And I know something about him.

If it'd been me beat to death,

he'd have seen that it was squared.

I ain't gonna figure to let that hunkie just walk away!

My wife?

She's doing fine.

Though it wouldn't hurt her any to rest over a time.

She can stay as long as she needs. Can't she, Daddy?

All right if I ask her a few questions?

I think so, if you don't tire her.

You don't talk to her. You leave her.

No one aims to upset her.

I said, you leave her!

Could be to your benefit, Mr. Rilke.

Your wife might be able to offer some information

that would back up your story...

of buying that gun.

No, I said!

She must've seen the man you bought it from.

She has not seen him.

I've been away from the wagon then. She knows nothing.

You leave me no choice but to charge you and take you in.

Oh. Jail.

Yeah, until you come to trial.

Come on. Is that law?

There'll be a hearing.

Then a trial, if you're held.

It'll be a fair trial-- you needn't be afraid of that.

I'm not afraid for myself. I'm afraid for my wife.

We'll look after her.

Rilke!

I talk to my wife.

Then I come back.

He'll come back.

Karl.

What is it?

Is there trouble for you?

No.

But I have to leave you now.

Just for a little while.

No.

Where do you go?

Into town.

Can I come with you?

No, you rest.

Don't you worry. I'll be all right.

No, Karl.

If you go, you will not come back.

I'll be all alone.

You won't be alone.

I'll come back. I promise.

Nobody will keep me away.

Nobody.

We found some of the old man's tools

gathered over there by the windmill.

He was probably on his way back to the house,

maybe get something to eat.

Sees this fella skulking around,

comes over to investigate.

Fella hits him with this rock. Got bloodstains on it.

No chance of footprints, huh?

No, too many people trampin' around.

Guess things look kind of bad for Rilke.

Take a look at that story of his

about the cowboy that sold him the gun.

Nothin' to back it up.

I think somebody better tell the Judge

to prepare his young wife for the worst.

I understand you set next Thursday

for the Rilke trial?

Pretty quick, isn't it?

Climate of the town demands it.

So does my calendar.

I've got a case over at Twin Rivers on the 20th.

Have an apple, Henry.

Oh, no, thank you.

I was hoping to appoint Oliver Smith

to defend Rilke.

Why don't you?

Laryngitis. Can't talk.

I imagine that could be a handicap for a lawyer.

It improves some I know.

I suppose that leaves Charlie Steele.

Yes, I brought it up to him this morning.

I can't say he was exactly enthusiastic about it.

In any case, he's overdue here right now to discuss it.

There's nothing to discuss, actually, is there?

He's the only other lawyer in town.

Except you.

Oh.

The last case I handled was...

years ago.

A trust case. You win it?

Yes.

It's open!

Well, I guess I'll--

No, Henry. Sit down.

No need for you to run along.

Well?

Yes. I've given the matter considerable thought.

I'm sure you have.

And I'm not really sure

that I'm the right man for the case.

Oh?

Well, you're not sick

or incapacitated or anything, are you?

You're familiar with the state criminal codes?

Thoroughly familiar with them, forward and back.

Well, then I don't quite understand

why you find yourself unfitted for this case.

It's not that, exactly.

It's simply... in undertaking this case,

I'd be doing it against my better judgment.

Against your better judgment?

Frankly, he's not the sort of client

that I could feel, uh, comfortable with.

Why? Because he's an immigrant?

I wouldn't put it that bluntly.

How would you put it?

Now, see here.

I have a certain position to maintain in this district.

Yes, I know you've got your sights set on running for office.

That I can understand.

But what I can't understand is a lawyer

who doesn't believe in the law.

But there's no case.

From the bare facts, he's obviously guilty.

That doesn't deny him the right to a fair trial.

I don't think you see my point.

Oh, yes, I do.

There's no need in becoming personal about it.

Oh. I feel personal, Charlie.

If it was my decision, I wouldn't let you defend Rilke!

Not if you were the last lawyer in the state.

I happen to be the last lawyer in this town.

No, you're not.

I haven't practiced in 12 years,

but I don't think I could do any worse for Rilke than you would.

I'll defend him myself!

Uh--

I don't know if I jumped or I was pushed.

But I have a notion you know.

Where did you make camp before that?

In the open.

Where On a hill

I don't remember. Why do you ask that?

'Cause that's what the prosecutor's gonna do.

Oh, please. No more.

We have just one day left

to prepare some kind of case.

I have to ask you questions.

Let's go back to the rifle.

Did you test it before you bought it?

Yes. Fire it?

No.

Why not?

Because I hate guns!

Still, you bought a gun.

I thought I might have needed it.

I thought I--

Oh, please, no more. I--

I want to see my Maria.

I know.

Is she well?

She's staying at a hotel now...

to be near the doctor. She's all right.

It's you, Karl.

You don't seem to realize

you're being tried for murder.

You can hang.

I think of it.

And I think of my son,

whom I never will see.

And I wonder why--

Why I came to America.

For this.

Doesn't matter for me.

Only for my son.

It mustn't be like this for him.

It'll be a fair trial.

An honest jury. You'll have every chance.

No.

No, I can see them.

I can see them right now from here.

They look at me as if I'm guilty.

And they think it.

Do you think it, too?

Now, you listen to me.

It doesn't matter what I think,

what anybody thinks.

Right now, you're innocent,

because that's the way our law is.

A man is innocent until he's proved guilty

beyond a reasonable doubt.

And that's my job, Karl--

To try to find that reasonable doubt.

And to make it stick in a jury's mind.

You understand me, Karl?

This court is now in session.

The Honorable Judge Wickersham presiding.

When you first approached the defendant,

what was his attitude? Friendly?

No, not friendly.

Was it hostile?

Yes, sir.

Well, uh... perhaps you threatened him?

No, sir. We asked if we could talk to him.

He didn't seem to understand at first.

He could speak English.

Yes, sir.

When the defendant first saw you,

he reacted hostilely, guiltily.

And when you spoke to him, he pretended not to understand you.

Objection.

Witness did not say "pretend" or "guiltily".

Prosecutor is putting words into his mouth.

Objection sustained.

The jury is instructed to disregard the words "pretend" and "guiltily".

Strike them from the record.

And no more verbal shenanigans, Mr. Kane.

We're trying to get at the truth here.

Yes, Your Honor.

Go on with your questions.

When you tried to search the defendant's wagon...

did he resist you?

If you call pulling a rifle resisting, yeah.

So, the defendant held a rifle on you.

But you forcibly overcame his resistance

and took the rifle from him.

This rifle. Yes, sir.

Which we have established

as belonging to the murdered man.

You asked the defendant where he got the rifle, did you not?

Yes, sir.

What did he say?

He said he bought it from a man on the road.

For how much?

$5.

$5!

For a hand-tooled rifle.

Order in this court!

I understand you're well-acquainted in these parts.

I know most of the people hereabouts, yes.

But, as for this phantom of the open road,

this philanthropist who goes around selling rifles for $5--

Have you ever seen--

Objection! Prosecutor is--

Sustained.

Rephrase your question.

Did you recognize anyone in this vicinity

from the defendant's description of the man on the road?

No, sir.

Your witness.

Heh.

You say you know everyone around here?

Uh, more or less.

Oh, I see. You know everyone "more or less".

But, from time to time,

you have met strangers on the road

who you've never seen again, haven't you?

Sure. And more than once.

Then there could've been such a man

as the one the defendant described.

Objection. That calls for an opinion from the witness.

Sustained.

Now, Trampas...

you told my young colleague

that when the defendant first saw you, he was--

To use the word he so kindly provided you with--

Hostile.

He was.

If you were a stranger in open country, alone,

with your young wife,

and two armed horsemen appeared,

suddenly galloped toward you,

what do you think you'd do?

I object, Your Honor.

The defense counsel insists upon calling for an opinion.

Objection sustained.

You said Carl Rilke resisted you

when you tried to search his wagon.

Yes, he did.

Did you explain that you were acting as citizens

investigating a capital crime?

That you had the legal right to stop and search him?

Well, no. I just told him there'd been a killing.

You told him. When? Before he resisted you or afterwards?

Well, bef--

I guess it was afterwards.

Thank you.

No further questions.

I call John Keel.

That's you, Johnny.

You say there were other articles of value

missing from your father's house.

There sure are.

A ring with a ruby stone in it.

That big gold watch my old man had that rang the hours.

Close to $1,000 in old, dirty bills.

Are you positive your father had this money?

Dead positive.

Half of it was rightly mine. My ma left it.

Are you sure he had it in the house.

It was there, all right.

Leastways the last time I was out there.

The night before that hunkie kill him!

I warned you about that.

Strike it from the record.

Now, I expect you to hold this witness in check.

Yes, sir.

Now, as for the rifle.

This rifle.

Do you think...

that it was possible for your father

to give this to anyone?

My old man give something away?

He wouldn't give the scruff hair from a dead prairie rat.

Anybody in town could tell you that.

But he never asked nobody for nothin', either.

Your witness.

No questions.

So, when I told him he ought to get a lawyer,

he said he didn't have any money to pay for one.

What did you do then? Lock him up?

No, sir. I searched him first.

What did you find?

It's there on the table-- All the marked property.

These articles here?

Yes, sir.

And so, you found on the person

of this poor, indigent immigrant

one pen knife-- made in Germany--

One nickel-plated pocket watch,

one ten-cent magnetic compass,

and one bandana containing...

two health certificates and two immigration certificates.

And a leather wallet.

Containing $885 in United States currency!

I repeat--

This poor, indigent immigrant

had, on his person when arrested,

$885--

As Mr. Keel so aptly put it--

In old, dirty bills.

Correct, Sheriff?

Yes, sir.

No further questions.

Sheriff, when you were at the Keel house investigating,

did you find any evidence that the defendant

had been on the premises? Any footprints, anything at all?

That area around there had been pretty much tramped down.

And there were no signs of the defendant's presence

in the house, either?

Somebody sure had been there.

The place was torn apart like a tornado struck it.

I didn't ask that.

Was there anything to prove that the defendant, Karl Rilke,

was in the house?

No, sir.

That's all.

You may go.

That's our case, Your Honor.

The prosecution rests.

Judge Garth, we are ready for the defense.

First, however, the court will take a short recess.

$800. How about that?

A man could go to Denver and blow the roof clean off of it

with that much money. Ha ha ha!

Do you think the judge is gonna give it to you, Johnny?

He's got to.

Unless the jury lets him off.

They'd better not.

Except he's still got Judge Garth to defend him.

What business does Garth have

stickin' his nose into this anyway?

Tryin' to twist the facts every which way.

I'll tell you one thing sure--

If that hunkie does get let off,

I'll quick enough do something about it.

Just, uh... what would you do about it?

If it comes to that, you'll see.

I hope not. He's guilty.

He didn't give my pa chance, did he?

Just killed him straight out.

If the law don't fix him for it, there's other ways.

That's dangerous talk.

I got a right to talk any way I feel.

Yeah.

As long as that's all it stays--

Just talk--

That's fine.

Hey, court's startin' up again!

Come on, boys!

And there was no reason for you to leave the trail

from Beatty Corner?

No. No reason.

Now, Karl...

this money that the sheriff took from you--

This $885--

Was all of it yours?

No.

I see. This wasn't yours.

Did you steal it? Did you take it from Mr. Keel?

No.

Where did you get it?

In your own words, Karl.

The place where I come from...

is not a big country.

And it's different.

When the father plows the field,

the son must plow, too.

And his son.

There's no change.

Maria was going to have a child.

But the soldiers came.

They took our shop.

They put us out on the street.

Maria lost her child.

You might not understand, but I--

I went mad.

I cursed at them.

I threw bricks at the officers. I--

They beat me.

They put me away to jail.

Your Honor...

is this really relevant to the case we're trying?

Judge Garth?

It is relevant.

Prosecutor has introduced the money on this table

as evidence.

Implied that Karl Rilke stole it

from Andrew Keel.

The testimony of my client will explain this money,

show that he did not steal it.

More, that given the kind of man he was,

he could not have stolen it.

You may continue with your questions.

Thank you.

Now, Karl...

what happened when they let you out of jail?

I wanted to leave my country.

I dreamed of--

Of freedom...

and of the country which could give it to us--

America.

I started a new shop,

and I worked day and night.

Maria and I tried to save money, but...

it wasn't enough.

It's so far.

Where did you get the money to come out here?

Friends.

People who felt like I did.

We all put money in, each of us a little.

Together, almost $1,000.

And then we drew straws.

I won.

It was like a miracle.

I was to go.

But for everyone.

"You are a craftsman, Karl," my friend said.

You'll find work in America, and money,

and you'll send money back for the next of us to come.

That's how they wanted it to happen.

One would bring one,

and two would bring two.

A dream.

Only a dream.

There's no work here.

Each day I walked, I looked, I searched.

Nothing.

We even decided to go back, but...

to have a dream for so long a time inside,

to come so close to it--

You just can't let it die.

So, we decided to stay.

But we wanted to go far west...

where all is new.

All new.

And so, you bought a wagon and supplies.

No. In the beginning, we walked.

But it was too hard for Maria.

So I bought a wagon to ride in.

You spent the money your friends put up for you?

No. Only my own money.

Just a bit of theirs.

The rest I kept to buy tools,

to start a new shop again,

so I could work and make money

to send it back to my friends.

I see.

So, when the sheriff searched you,

you had $885

that you were keeping in trust for your friends.

Yes, sir.

Thank you, Karl.

Your witness.

Now, that's a very interesting story, Mr. Rilke.

How do we know that that isn't...

just what it is-- a story, not the truth?

It is the truth.

Do you have a paper, a contract?

Some document, signed by yourself and your friends?

Something to show your indebtedness to them?

A paper?

I didn't need a paper.

They are my friends.

They knew I would keep my promise.

I see.

Then we'll have to take the witness at his word--

That under oath, he is telling the truth.

Correct, Mr. Rilke? Yes, sir.

Very well.

Now, Mr. Rilke,

you stated that, when stopped and arrested,

you had come directly from Beatty's Corner,

over the mountain, to the point where you were apprehended.

Yes, sir.

Do you now want to change that statement under oath?

No, sir.

And you did not stop anywhere

or go away from the road for any distance?

No. Just for sleeping.

You never left the vicinity of the road,

you made no side trips,

and you stopped only for sleeping?

Yes, sir.

Mr. Rilke...

it means that you were never closer

to the house of the murdered man

than about ten miles.

But, Mr. Rilke...

when the sheriff and his men searched the area,

they found ashes from a campfire

where someone had camped for at least two days--

Less than a mile from Mr. Keel's house!

And in that same campfire, Mr. Rilke,

where the tracks of a wagon with iron rims--

That did not quite come together

where they were nailed at the wheels--

Rims exactly like the ones found on your wagon!

These empty jars were found in that camp.

They were purchased in St. Louis.

They are identical to unopened jars

found in your wagon.

Mr. Kane is bringing in new evidence!

This should've been introduced

when the prosecution was presenting its case!

It was deliberately withheld

to surprise and entrap the witness!

I agree, Judge Garth.

This procedure is entirely out of line, Mr. Kane, and you know it.

I could call a mistrial on the basis of what you--

It is true. I was there.

But I was afraid.

Afraid you would think I'm guilty.

I lied, yes.

But I did not murder him.

I--I just asked him for a job,

and he wouldn't give me work, so I went away.

But I did not murder him!

Please believe me! I did not murder him!

This court stands adjourned

until 10:00 tomorrow morning.

I'm sorry. I--

I lied, but I was afraid.

I hope you can understand.

I can understand.

Kane.

These are cheap, vicious...

peanut gallery tactics.

Tactics, sir?

I thought I was just doing my job,

bringing the facts before the court.

I think you were trying to buy one step

up a paper ladder...

with a man's life.

It can be a long fall.

You got trapped, and now you're squirming.

Is that it, Judge?

Well, you had just as much chance

to uncover that evidence as I did.

More, in fact, since one of your own men gave it to me.

Judge?

I was wondering where you'd got to.

You ever felt completely empty?

Yeah.

I suppose I have.

There's a man waiting over there behind those barred windows

for his life to end.

Down at the hotel is a woman...

waiting for a life to begin.

The fate of all three is my hands.

Unless some little seed drops...

from out of heaven tonight...

I haven't the slightest idea what I'm gonna do

in that courtroom tomorrow.

He didn't give you much help.

Oh, the man's frightened, confused.

He clutches at anything--

A stupid lie to save himself.

Could've happened to anybody.

Maybe it's my own fault

for not hammering the lie out of him beforehand.

On top of it all, for it be one of my own men

who wouldn't come to me with what he knew.

I'm puzzled about that some.

According to our worksheets,

the only one we had anywhere near the Keel place

about that time was Shorty Downs.

But why didn't the prosecutor put him on the stand,

make him tell it out straight?

He made more of an impact

bludgeoning it out of Rilke.

Maybe. But let me ask you this.

If the prosecutor had done it the other way around,

he'd have had to put him on the stand. Yeah.

Then you'd have got a crack at him.

Maybe even before, because you'd have known he'd be a witness

and you could've questioned him, right? Yeah.

It looks like the prosecutor didn't want that.

Doesn't that follow?

Oh, it could.

I've thought of it in that light.

Then, on the other hand, it could be a trap.

Unless...

Maybe.

Maybe this is that little seed

I've been praying for.

Come back to the hotel with me.

We'll water it, nourish it...

with a lot of good thought.

Maybe by morning, we can make it sprout.

Ha ha ha!

Court is now in session.

Judge Garth.

The defense calls Rufus Downs to the stand.

Shorty, I want you to tell the court

what you were doing around the time Mr. Keel was killed.

During that week, say.

Remember, you're under oath.

How can you expect me to remember that?

Workin', I guess.

You were setting bear traps.

Yeah, I guess. Where?

Uh...

well, I was--

Can't seem to remember.

It was around the Keel place, wasn't it?

Or do you want to see the worksheets

to help refresh your memory?

Yeah, sure, it was close to the Keel place.

Now, Johnny Keel testified

that he was at his father's house

the day before he was killed.

You want to back him up on that?

Yeah, sure. That's when it was.

You were there with him. Yes, sir.

About what time of day was it

when you went to the Keel house with Johnny?

Well, let's see. I--

I don't seem to be able to remember that.

Well, approximately. Was it evening?

Afternoon

Yeah, that's when it was--before lunch. It was in the morning.

And Mr. Keel was there?

Sure.

You're lying, Shorty.

What?

You didn't see Mr. Keel that morning

because he wasn't there. He was in town then.

Because I, for one, saw him in town.

Oh. Well, I guess I must've forgot.

You forgot...

that it was the morning of the day Mr. Keel was killed

that you and Johnny went out to his house.

Isn't that what you forgot, Shorty?

Well, uh--

Or did you go out there by yourself?

Oh, no. Johnny was with me.

Then you and Johnny were at Mr. Keel's house

the day he was killed.

Uh...

yes, sir.

What happened, Shorty?

Well, him and Johnny had kind of a go-around.

You saying that Johnny and his father had an argument?

Yes, sir.

About what?

Well, it was about the money

Johnny claimed his ma left him.

But they was always arguing about that, Judge.

What else did Johnny say?

He said that--

Well, he said this was...

the last time he was gonna ask him about it.

Go on.

And, uh...

he said that if his pa didn't give it to him,

he was gonna do something about it.

And then what happened?

I don't know exactly, because it was gettin' kind of late,

and I went to set my traps.

You left Johnny there alone,

fighting with his father?

Objection!

The witness did not say "fighting".

Sustained.

All right, you left him alone, arguing with his father.

Yes, sir.

But he come along no more than three minutes later.

And even if he did kill him,

he couldn't have messed up the place the way they found it.

Not in three minutes.

But the last thing you heard

before you left them there alone

was Johnny saying that if his father didn't give him the money,

he'd do something about it.

Yes, sir.

That's all.

You're twistin' it all around.

I just asked the old man for my money.

He wouldn't give it to me, so I went about my business.

Why did you testify under oath

that you went to your father's house on Tuesday

instead of on the day he was killed? Why did you lie?

I didn't.

I was nervous, that's all.

With your people badgering me, I got my days mixed up.

Just an oversight?

That's right, Judge.

Then why did you promise Shorty money

if he'd keep his mouth shut?

He told you that?

All right, I did. 'Cause I was afraid

people would do what you just did-- make something out of it.

If they knew I had an argument with my old man,

they might think I had something to do with the killin'.

Did you, Johnny?

Did you have something to do with it?

Judge Garth, it--

It seems to me that you are deliberately leading the witness

into possible self-entrapment.

Under said circumstances,

he has the right to be warned

that he need not answer any question

that might incriminate him.

Judge?

I beg your pardon, Your Honor.

But this has everything to do with my case.

The defendant is on trial for his life,

based on evidence which is entirely circumstantial.

No one saw him commit the crime.

It's only been proved that he was in the area

where the crime was committed

and that he had in his possession

certain properties that belonged to the deceased.

Now, in questioning John Keel,

my intention to show that he, too,

was in the area where the crime was committed.

That he had a much stronger motive for killing his father.

And that, in fact, he threatened to do so.

And further than that...

it's my intention to show

that if Johnny Keel were on trial here today,

based on such circumstantial evidence,

the prosecution would have a much stronger case against him

than it has against Karl Rilke.

Johnny Keel could be found guilty of the crime

just as well as the defendant.

I never killed him! I swear it!

Sure, my pa and me-- we never got on!

Sure, he had his ways, and I had mine, but he was my pa!

He taught me how to sit on a horse, how to hold a gun.

And once, when I wasn't more than belt-high, he strapped me raw.

But then he stayed up all night rubbin' lard on me when I cried.

Why would I kill him? I loved him. He was my own blood.

I object to the defense counsel's entire line of questioning!

John Keel is not on trial!

No!

Karl Rilke is!

But if John Keel were on trial here--

Suppose he'd gone to his father's house two hours later.

Suppose he left alone,

with no one to vouch for his whereabouts.

Suppose he were afraid, alone--

A stranger!

Suppose he didn't have that so-called witness,

just as Karl Rilke had none.

How would you vote then?

You just looked at your watch

a couple of seconds ago.

Almost four hours now.

Is that good or bad?

I wish I knew.

Is it time?

No, the jury's still out.

The judge gave permission for your wife to visit you.

You are thin.

Don't you eat?

I'm all right.

And you?

You made this?

Yes.

For our son.

Something from my hands.

It's not finished yet.

I might not have the time.

No.

We will be together always.

You and our child...

and me.

Maria, I--

I've thought--

Thought very much.

After I--

Better go back to our country.

You will have friends there.

Promise you'll go back?

There is no need to promise.

I know they will free you.

I feel it.

No.

No.

They won't free me...

because I'm guilty.

What do you mean, guilty?

I did kill him.

Karl...

that isn't possible.

I did.

All right, Rilke. Jury's coming in.

Has the jury reached a verdict?

We have, Your Honor.

The defendant will please rise

and face the jury.

What is your verdict?

We find the defendant not guilty.

The prisoner is discharged.

The case against Karl Rilke is closed.

You're free, Karl.

Free?

You have nothing more to worry about now.

Hey, up there!

You hunkie greenhorn!

You hunkie greenhorn!

Stick your head out here!

You skunked that yellow jury,

but you ain't gonna skunk me!

I say you're guilty, you hear?

You killed my old man! You're gonna pay for it!

Now, hunkie, stick your head out the window

and take what's comin' to you!

Don't stay there.

Are you hurt?

It is nothing.

See?

Hey, hunkie!

Karl!

Come on, Johnny, give us the gun.

Nobody takes this gun away from me.

If anybody tries, I'll put a hole in him.

Rilke! Rilke!

Let him go! You want to kill him?

Karl?

We must leave now, Maria.

Karl!

It is the baby.

Get the doctor.

All right. All right.

Like you.

The Judge says he's a citizen--

Right now, from the beginning.

What is it, Karl?

They'll find out one day.

And they'll take away citizenship from him.

No!

You must not think of it now.

But I do think.

I think that here is justice for all men.

But they tell the truth.

And I lied.

At night I wake up...

I have fear...

and shame.

Maria, I must tell them. I must speak with--

Oh, no, Karl! I must!

We will go away.

We will not stay here.

But I cannot live with it!

Oh, go!

Tell them you're guilty!

They will hang you!

You think I work and I plan

to raise a child alone, no father?

You think I can live without you?

No!

Boy, isn't he loud.

He'll wake up half of Wyoming.

Only a week, and he's grown already.

That's the nature of babies, I understand.

How is he? Fine.

Let her settle the baby down to sleep first.

Your wife's been through a very hard stretch, Mr. Rilke.

In a few weeks, we'll have her

completely back on her feet again.

Thank you very much.

A few weeks?

I have to go on.

We have to find a place where to live, where I can work.

Why not do some work around here in Medicine Bow?

The town could do with some touching up here and there.

I've tried. But it's no use.

A stair that is broken,

a door that doesn't hang on its hinge--

I could fix it.

But no, they say.

No matter what the jury says.

They don't trust me.

Well, maybe some people will feel like that,

but not all of them. Let me ask around.

I think I can turn up some work.

Betsy?

Thank you.

I don't deserve it, but...

thank you very much.

Good-bye.

How long do you think it'll take to settle this account?

We should have it cleared through the bank in Cheyenne

by the first of the week.

You hired him?

Well, uh... not exactly.

Judge Garth sort of asked if I'd give him some repair work.

I don't really see anything wrong in it.

Well, maybe.

He came around to my feed store

looking for carpentry work.

To tell you the truth,

jury or not, I just wouldn't feel safe with him around.

Well...

It's all right? Sure, sure.

Look, you don't have to redo the whole thing.

Just so it holds solid, is all.

It has to be right,

so it looks beautiful.

A shutter?

All wood has beauty. It's my trade.

Looks like they caught the real one, huh?

But for the grace of God and you, Judge...

Karl Rilke would've been hung

about three weeks ago today.

Hey, there he is.

Hey! Karl!

Over here!

Hey!

Look, they found him.

I don't understand.

They arrested a man

for the murder of Mr. Keel.

Must be the same one that sold you Keel's rifle.

They found all the stolen stuff on him.

Rings, watch, everything.

And they will--

They will try him, like me?

Same court, same charge--murder.

Murder?

I--

Sorry, I--

I finish later. Sure.

I guess some of us, including me,

feel kind of small by now--

Treating him like he was guilty even after the trial.

What do you sort of think we can do, Judge,

to make it up to him?

Well, for a start, you might try treating him

like you would any other law-abiding citizen

who wants to do an honest day's work

and support his family.

Karl

No. I cannot sleep.

Like him in his jail.

I know he doesn't sleep.

The morning is his trial.

Maria, I'm afraid.

But even more, ashamed.

This country has given us everything.

And I've given back nothing but lies.

What shall I do, Maria?

Nothing.

They will let him go free at the trial.

Same as you.

That's a fancy enough job to be sure, Jonas.

Thank you. The work is done.

Looks just fine.

I've got a casing around back that needs squaring.

Wait a second, Jonas.

You can't take all his time.

Mr. Rilke, I've got some shelves down in my store

that I've been meaning for some time to have reworked.

You know what I think, Mr. Rilke?