Original subtitles

The West is populated by men of stature and action.

Pick your man for the idealized concept.

Make him colorful, tough, aggressive.

Take off your silk gloves for a change.

Any answer, ma'am?

Well, I guess I'll just have to take off my silk gloves.

Make him colorful, tough, aggressive.

Which one ya gonna use, ma'am?

Why, the winner, of course.

- Let's go! - Hurry up!

- Let's go! - Come on.

♪ Johnny Yuma was a rebel ♪

♪ He roamed through the West ♪

♪ Did Johnny Yuma, the Rebel ♪

♪ He wandered alone ♪

♪ Johnny Yuma ♪

Stay outta this.

- Come on, come on. - Let's go!

- Hurry up! - Let's go!

Come on, come on!

- Hurry up! - Let's go!

Come on.

My window!

You near took my hand off, mister,

and for no real cause.

I need it.

It's a tool of my trade,

goes with that gun over there.

He didn't pay you for shining them boots, boy.

Why don't you take 'em out in the street

and dirty 'em up the way they were?

You scuff up them boots boy,

you'll be pickin' the quickest way

you ever saw to not grow any older.

Why, he's Jack Slater, mister.

Ain't you heard tell about him?

Hand me those boots, boy.

He's always funnin', mister.

You could get into trouble

helping somebody you don't even know,

but I'm sure beholden to ya.

- What's your name, boy? - Jody Webster.

Six notches, huh?

And room for more.

How do you spell your name, mister?

Y-U-M-A, Yuma, Johnny Yuma,

and you better stop at six.

Well, that was a $50 window.

Which one pays for it?

Don't look at me.

Gettin' thrown through the window

wasn't my idea.

Mr. Yuma seems like your best bet.

He's a pure hog for the glory

of seeing a debt squared.

You dig up $50, Yuma?

Not unless I had someone else's pants on.

I'll pay for the window, Mr. Corby.

Gallantry should be rewarded.

We could consider it a loan, Mr. Yuma, if you'd prefer.

Well, it'll take me a little time

to pay ya back.

I'm in no hurry.

We can work something out.

I doubt if he'll have time to work out $50 worth, ma'am.

You dirtied up my boots, Yuma,

and before I take you out for good,

I'm gonna make you crawl on your knees

and lick 'em clean and shiny again.

Better hope the doctor heals me up real slow, ma'am.

Young man, what was the fight all about?

Well, when I finished shining his boots,

he tossed me a nickel into the dirt.

When I went to pick it up,

he shot a hole in it and laughed like he always does,

then Mr. Yuma jumped in

before he could throw me another nickel.

You seem to have fine, noble instincts, Mr. Yuma.

I'd like to get to know you better.

I'm Emily Stevens.

I might've been too fast with my instincts, ma'am.

You didn't have to take your glove off for me, ma'am.

Oh, silk gloves don't fit in very well

in this country.

I'm at the hotel.

I do hope you'll come and visit me

if you're staying in town.

Well, I think I'll be staying in town for a while.

Business?

Yes, ma'am.

I owe you $50.

Yuma's made-to-order for you, ma'am.

You bought yourself a lot of writin' material for $50.

So, they want more color, interest,

action in my stories of the raw frontier.

To the editor of the St. Joe Ledger,

today in the dirty,

sweaty town of free and easy,

a bully named Jack Slater,

who makes a practice of shoving small boys around,

made the mistake of trying to push a man.

Well, you sure you got your silk gloves

off in a hurry, ma'am.

Oh, Mr. Corby, let's send out my first story

about Johnny Yuma.

Yeah, over the wire?

Well, that'll come steep, ma'am.

Money doesn't make any difference.

I just wanna prove to my editor

that I can write with my bare fist.

Now ma'am, this name, Emily Mortimer Stevens,

it don't hardly sound very fisted to me.

Well, of course I shouldn't use my own name.

How does Tex Brannigan sound to you?

Good, good, and it's got lots of color.

Now that there is a name with hair on its chest.

You will keep Tex Brannigan a secret

from Mr. Yuma, won't you?

I want to learn all I can about him

without letting him know why.

Ms. Stevens, anything you have to say

in this here office goes in one ear

and gets lost in this vast confusion.

I'm delighted you could join me for coffee, Johnny.

Thank you.

Johnny, I could imagine

you distinguished yourself during the war.

I guess I did, ma'am.

In what way?

He came out of it alive.

Mr. Yuma.

I was referring to acts of bravery.

Is your room across the hall comfortable, Johnny?

Oh, yes, ma'am.

First feather bed I've laid down in in years.

Why'd you get it for me?

Mm, I'm a timid soul, a real tenderfoot,

and in a town like this,

I just feel safer with someone like you close by.

You look like the kind of man

who'd face a grizzly with a stick.

Well, I don't know how I can pay you back

for what I owe you.

Well, you could show me around tomorrow.

There are places I wouldn't dare venture into alone

and I do wanna see what the real frontier's like,

the darker corners, the rough edges, things like that.

All right, ma'am.

You just knock on my door when you're ready.

Thanks for the warm room, ma'am.

Goodnight.

His clothing was splendid

and he was meticulously groomed.

The bright gold medals glinted in the sunlight.

He wore them with fierce pride on his chest

in the manner of a cavalier,

a latter day Southern cavalier who had fought

to preserve the dignity of gracious living

and the comforts he was loath to surrender.

- What're you doin' here? - Oh, I thought

you were sleepin'.

I wanted to surprise ya,

shine your shoes, sorta pay ya back

for taking my side today.

Come on in.

It's past midnight.

You should be home in bed.

Well, I haven't got any home.

No family either?

No, sir.

- Since when? - Two years ago.

They were killed by Comanches up in Fargo.

I've been working away south where it's warmer.

Well, you better bunk here tonight.

Tell ya what, I'll flip a coin.

The better, the chair.

Call it.

That wouldn't be fair if I won.

It's your bed!

Call it.

Heads.

Tails, you lose.

Oh, I found out one thing sneaking in here like I did.

What's that?

You're fast!

Mr. Yuma?

Yes, Jody?

Could that Jack Slater kill ya?

Well, I suppose he could if he tried hard enough.

You think he'll try?

He said he would.

That's the one.

Hey Yuma!

You've been outta touch with things

these past few days.

Been too busy haulin' the lady around

to know what's goin' on.

This here's a roulette.

This here's a roulette wheel, ma'am,

and over there's a faro table,

and leanin' up against the wall is something they missed

when they swept out.

The stagecoach driver brought this clippin' to me.

It's from the St. Joe Ledger.

It says here I'm a bully

and makes you out a real ringtail wonder.

You like reading about yourself, Yuma?

It's gonna make even better readin'

when it tells how ya died.

Now pacing up and down on that floor

won't hurry the answer to your message, ma'am.

Are you sure it went out just as I wrote it?

Mm.

Here's the message I sent to your editor, Ms. Stevens.

Please kill all unpublished copy I have sent you.

Unwittingly, I have encouraged a feud

between two men that can end

only with a gunfight.

I do not want the responsibility of it.

That from St. Joe?

Yeah.

Emily.

Now you are writing

with a lightning bolt.

No reason for not printing articles.

If gunfight occurs, be there.

Report results.

By thunder, at last

you're writing like your old man.

I was afraid he would say that.

I don't remember sending anything out

that would spark a gunfight, ma'am.

You didn't read the stories I sent out by mail

in the last two weeks, most of 'em still unpublished.

I don't think you'd let me send 'em by telegraph, Mr. Corby.

They were that sticky, ma'am?

Worse.

I over-romanticized Johnny Yuma so much,

I made him a glorified, heroic monstrosity.

Oh, I'd just die if Johnny found out I did this to him.

Well, if they face each other over a gun barrel,

it'll be Yuma that'll die.

His long blond here blowing in the breeze

made Yuma's scalp a tempting one,

but 20 Apache warriors died tryin' to get it.

Here, read this part.

Johnny Yuma's right hand

moved like the strike of a cobra

and his guns spat six bullets

into the heart of the desperado.

And as the three men closed in

with guns drawn, Johnny's pistol drilled bullets

between their eyes before their fingers

could squeeze triggers!

Phew, you are fast!

The two giant Wade brothers

came crashing down like felled trees,

but Johnny Yuma was indeed the kinda man

who could face a grizzly bear with a stick.

The bullets smashed the grizzly bear's skull

and Johnny Yuma?

Yuma, Yuma, Yuma.

Calmly ejected an empty shell

from his pistol and blew out white smoke from the barrel.

Anybody here know somebody named a Tex Brannigan?

Well, whoever he is,

he's fattening you up for the market, Yuma.

I didn't think you took on anything

bigger than a small boy, Slater.

We can go to market together any time now.

Hello, Tex, or should I call you Mr. Brannigan?

How did you know?

And he knew the real frontier,

the dark corners, the rough edges.

Your very own words, and you made the mistake

of putting 'em in print.

I'll promise you one thing, ma'am.

I'm not the kind of fool

who faces a grizzly with a stick.

You do what you want to.

Go ahead and punish me, Johnny.

I deserve it.

Why'd you have to pump me up

like a big pink balloon

everybody'd wanna let the air out of?

Johnny, my editor was a spike-chewing,

two-fisted journalist who covered everything

from the Civil War to the Great Plague.

Well, he's old now

and he wanted someone to carry on for him.

Besides being my editor, he happens to be my father.

I thought I could carry on for him

by discovering a heroic, Western character

and putting him in print.

I'm sorry, Johnny.

Yeah?

Well, there's a man in town

who wants to put me out of print for good,

and if he does that, you'll have yourself

another pumped up hero you can write about.

- Jack Slater. - If I was to ever meet

your Johnny Yuma, I'd wanna,

I'd wanna, I'd wanna rip off his bright gold medals.

It was easy to make you a hero, Johnny.

I know it was wrong.

I'll show ya how wrong.

The hero.

Well, look what we got here.

The hero brought his own audience.

Paper just come from St. Joe.

Here, read this part to the folks.

And as Johnny Yuma fired both pistols

at the ruffian, he gallantly tipped his hat

to the young lady.

Now firing both pistols and tipping your hat,

why, you must have three hands, Yuma!

Well, all I need's one.

Killin's not gonna prove anything, Slater.

Make your move, Yuma.

Excuse me.

You said you'd make me do this, Slater.

Well, I'm doin' it.

My, my, my.

Three hands are mighty useful, Reb, for shinin' boots.

Sometimes it takes worlds of courage

to be a coward, doesn't it?

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

Now let's see if he can put 'em together again.

Johnny Yuma just went out of print

as bravely as I would've expected him to.

I won't bring him back to life again.

Slater, turn around!

Somethin' eatin' you, boy?

You still owe me for shinin' your boots.

Now you get the brush and you shine mine.

I ain't much good at shinin' boots, boy.

Well, you saw Mr. Yuma do it,

so you can do it, too.

Huh, man with a gun's always right, I figure.

Well, Yuma, looks like you've got a friend

to take up your fight.

Ah!

Say boy, you got some energy you better work off.

Well, my boots are shined.

Say, why don't you do me a dance, boy?

Dance, boy.

Yuma, that boy's in trouble

on account of you.

I didn't mean to hit the boy.

Just funnin' again, huh?

Well, your funnin's gonna have us

looking down each other's gun barrels.

There's no bullets left in this'n.

No, we already had one go-around Yuma,

and you come in second.

Yeah, I'm a slow learner.

How about another lesson?

Ma'am, could you move, please?

I can't see.

Bartender, draw me a beer.

Whatta ya know?

Same place where he put the bullet in the boy.

You called that shot, Reb.

It coulda just as easily been my hand.

Yeah, it coulda been.

I'da been dead from a bad case of slow.

I'm gonna try to take life

a little more serious from now on.

Ma'am, how do ya think

this story'll be written up in the paper?

I don't think it will be, Jody.

Well Jody, you'll know when a fly

lands on that foot for a few days, but you'll live.

Your own mother couldn't have done better.

- Thanks, ma'am. - I'd hang around

and take ya along, but I'm heading north

and I remember you like livin' where it's warmer.

That's all right, I'm sort of a lone wolf anyway.

What're you gonna do, Ms. Stevens?

Back to the ranch,

Cooking and Baking Hints by Aunt Emily.

Ma'am, how warm does it get in St. Joe?

Oh, it's getting warmer all the time.

I might be able to promote a job for you, Jody.

- Me? - Copy boy on the ledger

maybe or in the print shop.

You and the editor'd be quite a combination.

Well, I better be movin' along.

I wanna see what the real frontier's like,

the darker corners, the rough edges.

Goodbye, Johnny.

Bye, ma'am.

So long, Jody.

♪ Johnny Yuma was a rebel ♪

♪ He roamed through the West ♪

♪ Did Johnny Yuma, the Rebel ♪

♪ He wandered alone ♪

♪ He got fightin' mad, this rebel lad ♪

♪ He packed no star as he wandered far ♪

♪ Where the only law was a hook and a draw ♪

♪ The Rebel ♪ ♪ Away ♪

♪ Johnny Yuma ♪ ♪ Away rode the Rebel ♪

♪ He searched the land, this restless la d ♪

♪ He was panther quick and leather tough ♪

♪ 'Cause he figured that he had been pushed enough ♪

♪ The Rebel ♪

♪ John Yuma ♪

This has been a Mark Goodson-Bill Todman Production.