All language subtitles for The Rifleman S05E14 Incident at Line Shack Six

NARRATOR: "The Rifleman,"
starring Chuck Connors.

Next.

Charlie.

Mr. Gangling.

$20, $10, $30, Charlie.

Thank you, Mr. Gangling.

Thank you.

You men figure
out how to spend

the money on your own time.

Now, get back to work.

Get right back, Mr.
Gangling, yes, sir.

Oh.

Hello, Mr. Gangling.

I'm just putting my pay away.

You're taking quite a chance
carrying that money belt

around, aren't ya, Charlie?

Seen too many banks close
their doors, Mr. Gangling.

They say you still have the
first dollar you ever earned,

Charlie.

I'm curious if that's true.

It's just my farm
money, Mr. Gangling.

Find some land to ease my
head, put some roots down.

Ain't enough there to interest a
big man like you, Mr. Gangling.

Bigness is relative.

Charlie.

The ant gazing at a sandpile,
to him that's a mountain.

Right now, that's me, Charlie.

I'm looking at a mountain.

That's my farm you're
holding, Mr. Gangling.

I've got a
proposition, Charlie.

One month is all I need.

I'll fatten this by 10%.

I don't know what you're
talking about, Mr. Gangling,

but whatever it is,
I ain't interested.

I'm in a jam, Charlie.

I need this money badly.

All right.

All right.

All right.

I just thought I'd ask.

Charlie, I come to
pay the money I owe ya.

I didn't do it, Mr. Gangling.

The railroad's
sure coming along.

Another couple
of weeks, they'll

be inside the county line.

I guess we'll be considered
officially civilized, huh?

Morning, Mr. Gangling.

Morning.

This is Marshal
Torrance of North Fork.

Marshal.

Mr. Gangling.

The cook will only need
two beefs this coming week.

I laid off some men.

I'll have them here Friday.

Good.

Something on your mind, Marshal?

Yes, I'm here about that
troubled you had this morning.

Yes.
Yes.

My vigilantes are
still out trying

to track down the Indian.

I happen to know
John Wing very well.

He used to do some farm
work for Lucas here.

He never had any trouble
about him stealing, did you?

No, I didn't.

Maybe he never saw
anything valuable enough

to steal before?

As I understand it, you
caught the Indian going

through the old
man's money belt?

Charlie Breen.

They tell me the old man worked
hard every day of his life,

saved his money so that
when the time came,

he might retire
without any worries.

You actually see Johnny
Wing kill him, Mr. Gangling?

When I come upon an Indian
standing over a dead man, who

a few moments before I
personally paid a full month's

wages to, I simply add
2 plus 2, and apply

pressure to the trigger finger.

Unfortunately, in this
case, my aim was a bit off.

Mr. Gangling, I want you to
rescind that shoot on sight

order you gave your men.

This camp has its
own legal authority,

so don't you go telling
me what to do, Marshal.

I'm keeping that
order because it's

the only safe way to go
after a thief and a murderer

like Johnny Wing.

With any kind of luck, we should
be rolling him in his grave

before nightfall.

What's bothering the
Marshal and the rest of us,

is your men roaming
around our territory

with itchy trigger fingers.

Now, you'd feel different
if it was your job

to keep order among 200 men.

Knowing that among
them are criminals

of every stripe and nature.

Quick justice is the only
way to keep them in line.

Keep down the kind of thing
that happened here this morning.

Look, Mr. Gangling, we bring
up our families in these parts,

we teach them to
respect law and order.

What's happening here is
little different from mob rule.

You exaggerate, Mr. McCain.

We happen to catch
the Indian alive,

he'll be given a
fair and impartial

trial, the same as he would
in your town of North Fork.

[knocking]

Well?
Well?

Well?

He's kind of leading
us a chase, Mr. Gangling.

Doubling back on his tracks.

BY the amount of blood he's
leaving behind, I'd say--

I'd say sooner or later, he's
gonna crawl off some place

and die all by himself.

Brother Davey is
staying on his tracks.

We come back for fresh horses.

You're Jeb and Vale
Croton, aren't you?

I'm Lucas McCain.

We met a couple of years
ago at the grain auction.

I didn't know you boys
were working as vigilantes?

The hills ain't been
as lucky with the rain

as the flatlands, Mister.

GANGLING: All right, already.

Go get a change of horses,
and better luck next time.

Gangling, who's the judge
when your committee tries a man?

I am.

And your paid
hands are the jury?

That's right.

Pretty convenient kind
of law you got here.

I want it understood when you
begin laying tracks in North

Fork, your kind of law stops.

I never had any
other thought, Marshal.

Well, I finally got it
all figured out, Miss Lou.

What?

Your fresh egg business?

Yep.

Instead of selling
eggs the first year,

I'm gonna let them hatch.

Raise cooking hens instead?

Not for cooking.

A chicken only brings $0.12
cleaned, and that's work.

But a chicken all by herself
can lay 100 days a year.

So I figure if I let them
hatch instead of making money

the first year,
then I've got 100

times as many eggs the second.

That seems to make sense.

Pa sure is going to
be surprised to find

a regular woman's meal
when he gets here.

Not that he objects
to my cooking much.

Speaking of those
eggs, it occurs

to me if I had some right now,
I could make a cake for dessert.

There's probably half
a dozen in the roost.

That should be fine.

Of course, I can
always squeeze a hen

or two if you want some more.

You can do what?

Why sure.

It's an old farmer's trick.

Just grab the hen by the
legs, turn it upside down--

ah, I bet you used
to do the same thing

all the time back in Ireland.

I'm going to turn you
upside down, young man,

if you don't stop joking
and go get those eggs.

[rustling]

I need a horse, Mark.

I can't help you, Johnny.

They're looking for you.
- I didn't do it, Mark.

I didn't.

Then why don't you
give yourself up?

They'll kill me.

It's the law of the camp.

A thief is hanged
within the hour.

Help!

Don't yell again.

It wouldn't be right
for me to help you,

but I could go get Marshal
Torrance, if you want me to.

Mark, I'm taking that horse,
and your saddling him for me.

If you weren't guilty,
you'd give yourself up.

They'll kill me.

They'll call me a
murdering, thieving Indian,

and they'll kill me.

Get away from that boy.
Johnny Wing.

He's hurt bad, Miss Lou.

Go get some hot water
and bandages, Mark.

Pa's riding up now.

We're gonna have to tell him
sooner or later, aren't we?

Uh-huh.

Oh, hello, Lou.

Lucas.

I thought that cooking I
smelt was put together with

a lighter touch that Mark's.

No offense, son.

Oh, sure.

I dropped by to sign
up as a regular customer

for Mark's eggs, and thought
I'd stay and help with dinner.

That's mighty
kind of you, Lou.

Something wrong, Mark?

No.

You sure?

Well, if you two will sit
down, I'll serve dinner.

What did you and Micah find
out at the railroad camp?

There's nothing
we can do to stop

the vigilantes from shooting
Johnny Wing on sight.

You think he's guilty, Pa?

I don't know, son.

I don't know him that well.

But a man can seem one
thing and be another.

Well, when he worked for me
those few days at the hotel,

he seemed to be honest.

And if he wanted
to steal, there was

ample opportunity at that time.

Well, a railroad
camp is a rough place.

You take a young man
with the gambling

and drinking that goes on, I
guess it could lead to trouble.

But it's not right to hang
him without a trial, Pa.

Oh, he'll get a
trial, son, but it's

not the kind you're used to.

But a vigilante committee is
accountable for it's actions.

You mean Johnny
Wing would have

to be handed over to that Mr.
Gangling same as to a Marshal?

That's the vigilante law, and
it's a rightful one, I guess.

Pa, there's something
I want to tell ya.

GANGLING: McCain!

What are you doing here?

Mr. McCain, do
you know the penalty

for harboring a fugitive?

What are you talking about?

We found Johnny Wing
hiding in your barn.

Your facing law
officers, Mr. McCain.

Mark, did you know Johnny
Wing was in the barn?

That's what I was
about to tell you, Pa.

It was my fault, Lucas.

Using a woman as
an alibi may work

on the side of the
county line, but don't

try it in my jurisdiction.

All right, Gangling.

Here's your pay for
the cattle you delivered.

Don't bother delivering anymore.

Let's go.

They may call
it vigilante law,

but that boy hasn't
got a chance.

I won't argue the point.

The laws in these
parts aren't perfect,

but they've got to be accepted.

Or else, all the good laws
will go down with the bad.

Mark, ride in and tell
Micah what's happened here.

I'm going to attend that trial.

You tell him to meet me.

Yes, sir.

Thanks, Lou.

Defendant's name is John Wing.

He's a full-blooded
Apache Indian.

He's charged with the robbery
and killing of Charlie Breen.

The evidence against the
man was that he was seen--

[knocking]

Mr. McCain, come in.

Come in.

I didn't expect you to
come back here again ever.

I'm just asking this trial
be delayed until Marshal

Torrance gets here.

Our rules are immediate
trial with sentence

promptly carried out.

Didn't I warn you that
harboring a wanted killer

was a hanging offense?

That's correct, Mr. McCain.

A verdict of guilty
here could put

you swinging at the end of a
rope along with this Indian.

The law of the camp.

Nothing I can do about it.

The evidence, Charlie
Breen's money belt,

seen in the defendant's
hand when he dropped

it and ran from the murder.

No.

About $1000 still left out
of an original $2,000 or more.

Now, gentlemen, I'll be
brief, even though a few words

will be a few too many
considering the fact

the case is open and shut.

I like your idea of an
impartial trial, Mr. Gangling.

Since when does a judge make
such a prejudicial statement?

Judge and
prosecutor, Mr. McCain.

The law of the camp has death
within the hour for a thief.

After the trial, of course.

We're not savages here,
at least not all of us.

This law was forced upon us
for our mutual protection.

Every month, 200 men
receive their pay in gold.

The minute we lower the
odds against swift and sure

punishment, there isn't a man
who could go to sleep at night

without a gun by his head.

Now, Wing, the facts
are I came upon you

kneeling over the dead
body of Charlie Breen,

his body still warm.

You don't deny that.

But that doesn't
mean I killed him.

Then why did you run?

Because I saw you
coming at me with a gun.

GANGLING: Well, if you
hadn't done anything wrong,

why were you afraid of my gun?

Because of the
look in your eye.

Well, how would you have me
look under the circumstances?

The money belt's in your
hand, transferring the gold

from the belt to
your own pocket.

No.
That's not true.

Suppose I said you
wouldn't hang if you told

us where you hid the money.

I don't promise
anything, mind you.

I just ask.
- I haven't any money.

I didn't kill him.

He does that again, shoot him.

We try to run our
trials as orderly

as possible, Mr. McCain.

I can see that.

Now, if Charlie Breen had
been killed by somebody else,

why was there still gold
left in the money belt?

If the killer hadn't
been caught in the act,

he certainly would have
time to have transferred all

the money to his own pockets.

If he was killed
by somebody else,

why didn't John Wing cry
out when he found the body?

When I walked up to him
pointing a gun at him,

why didn't he simply
raise his hands?

The answers to these questions,
gentlemen, are obvious.

I close the case for the camp.

Mr. McCain, you will be
given the opportunity

to question John Wing
on your own behalf

since the verdict will
affect both of you.

Asking him any more
questions will only

make it worse for both of us.

Gentlemen, you
heard the evidence.

I would like to
question another witness.

Unfortunately, the only
other witness in the case

lies buried in his
grave at this moment.

Mr. Gangling, I
was referring to you.

Me?

You were there.

It's an open and shut case.

That's what you said.

Well, if you boys don't
mind wasting the time?

All right, make it short.

Mr. Gangling, you
have a lot of Apaches

working for you, why?

Surely you wouldn't
deny a man the right

to work because of his color?

Let me put it another way.

Do you make a point
of hiring Apaches

because they'll accept
less money than white men?

That, Mr. McCain, is one of
the fine points of economics.

You hire laborers as
cheaply as possible.

We pay the Apaches $10 a month.

Even though they do as
much work as everybody else?

They're Indians,
they don't require

that much money to live on.

How much did you
pay Charlie Breen?

$30 a month.

$30 a month.

Then Indians get $10 a
month, and white men get $30.

Is that right?

One is an animal,
the other a man.

One is an animal.

Mr. Gangling, this spring
a lot of the hillmen

came down from their farms,
leaving behind starving

families and failing crops.

And many of them are
working at various jobs

here for you right
now in this camp.

So?

What wages do you pay them?

How much do you pay the
hillmen, Mr. Gangling?

That's beside the point.

MCCAIN: You don't
care to answer.

$20 a month.

Animals, to use your
expression, get $10 a month,

white men get $30,
then you must think

these hillmen are
somewhere between an animal

and a white man.

Those are your
words, not mine.

What would your
words be, Mr. Gangling?

In what category would
you put these hillmen?

More animal than men?

How much more?

What are you
driving at, McCain?

We're all under the thumb.

The pressure never
stops for any of us.

Not for them, not
for me, not for you.

The thumb squeezes.

The Apache works for a
third, takes the money or he

starves in the desert.

The thumb's squeezing.

The hillmen work for less
pay because there's no rain.

Crops fail, their
families starve.

Thumb squeezing,
always squeezing.

You, McCain, the thumb
is squeezing on you

to make that mortgage payment.

Squeezing to call that loan.

Squeezing.

You included yourself
under that thumb.

What's your problem,
Mr. Gangling?

I'm speaking in generalities.

Recalling the facts of life.

We may not like
them, but each of us

is faced with these facts
every day in our life.

Are you finished?

Mr. Gangling, do you usually
put teeth marks on gold coins

you use for wages?

Or payment for supplies?

Of course not.

No, I didn't think you did.

That's a trick generally used by
old timers like Charlie Breen.

They identify their money
that way, just in case.

Now, if you gentlemen
will recall,

Mr. Gangling tossed me these
three gold coins in payment

for some cattle I delivered.

If you look at them
closely, you'll

see that they have the same
teeth marks as these coins

here on the table in
Charlie Breen's money belt.

I often changed gold
for men at the camps.

Two $5 pieces for a $10.

The explanation
is simple enough.

But suppose, Mr. Gangling,
we were to look for and find

several thousand
dollars worth of gold

marked the same as this
gold in evidence here?

Would you then say that we'd
found the gold that was taken

from the body of Charlie Breen?

You're suggesting
that you'd find

a great number of gold
pieces with Charlie's marks

in my safe?

Well, I think
your committee would

like to know all the
facts before passing

judgment on both of us.

Now it's your turn to listen.

Sit down, McCain.

Sit down.

Cover him.

Big thumb, McCain,
you feel it squeezing?

Each of you are going to leave
this room richer than before.

That's gold, McCain,
it seals lips,

buys souls, buries people.

What's in this bag
is going to send them

back to the hills set for life.

The big thumb, suddenly
they're part of the squeeze.

Right now, you're all
that lies between them

and their big dream.

That might be true,
if they actually were

the animals you think they are.

But something does stand
in the way, Gangling.

You are talking to
men who chose to work

when they became desperate.

Men who wouldn't steal, not
even to feed their families.

This man is all
that lies between you

and the best land you can
buy back in those hills.

Land to grow food for
your hungry children.

Now shoot.

Only animals feed
their young on the blood

of others, Gangling.

You keep forgetting you're
talking to human beings.

Now, shoot, do you hear?

Don't you understand
it's yours, yours.

Gold enough so your wives
and children can stop rooting

in the ground outside for food.

Pigs root the
ground, Gangling.

Not wives and children.

Why do you keep forgetting
you're talking to men?

You could become men.

You can stop living like pigs.

Like pigs, don't you understand?

You can become men.

You can live like men.

Have you got the
minds of animals?

Have you lived like animals so
long you've lost all feeling?

You've turned into animals.

According to the law,
I'm voting John Gangling

guilty of thieving and murder.

Aye.

Aye.

Understood him, guess he
just didn't understand us.

What made him think we'd
take money to kill a man?

He understood money.

Not men.

What's the matter?

This is the third time in a
row this Plymouth hasn't laid.

Plus two others missed
for the first time.

Are you sure they've mean
getting enough feed and water?

More than sure.

If this keeps up,
it's going to be

a money losing proposition, Pa.

I don't mind saying
I'm mighty worried.

I know.

It's written all over your face.

But there's more
to it than that, Pa.

Last night when I was
waiting for you to come home

from that trial, all
I could think about

was that you would come home.

Nothing else seemed important.

I didn't care if these
hens laid another egg

or even if the
house burned down.

And here you are this morning
worried about a few cents

profit and loss.

Pa, I've been trying to
tell myself I've got so

much to be thankful for, but--

I know I have.

[theme music]