Original subtitles

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[chime]

[shots fired]

ANNOUNCER: The Rifleman.

[theme music]

Starring Chuck Connors.

[horses galloping]

What in the name--

What are you doing up there?

I am imbibing from this bottle of bomb.

Are you in trouble?

A negligible amount.

Well, waiting out here for help in the middle of nowhere,

you could sit there the rest of your life.

I figured someone would pass by this rock.

Otherwise, I wouldn't be here.

Next mule I have will drink only water.

Why?

My drunken mule died of delirium tremens.

[laughter]

By sheer force of sinew, I toed that wagon three miles

and then the wheel broke.

What did do you do then?

I selected a large branch, and I beat that wagon

within an inch of its life.

Well, that makes sense.

What are you going to do now?

Finish this bottle of bomb.

[laughter]

And then, I may select a larger branch

and continue to beat that wagon, or I

may get some smaller branches and make some new spokes.

Stand back!

I'm going to lower my drawbridge.

Stand back.

Whoa!

Stand back, son.

No assistance required.

[laughter]

I'm Lucas McCain, Mr. This is my son, Mark.

Winslow Quince is the name, sign painting is the game.

- Hello, Mr. Quince. - Hmm.

We better take a look at your wagon.

You took the words right out of my mouth.

[chuckle]

Huh?

All this weight is what broke your wheel.

Those are my spares.

I figure, whenever a tire wears through, I just fit one of them

on.

All I got to do is figure out how to bend it around,

and stick them together.

- Where'd you get them? - Found them.

Out in the wilderness.

These are railroad tracks.

You better give them back to the railroad.

Railroad run on those bits of iron.

Great Scott!

I thought I'd found the mother lode.

But let's talk about you.

What are you going to do about my wagon?

Well, first I'm going to get me a great big tree branch.

Won't work, I've tried it.

It'll work my way.

Come on, son.

Um, Mr. Quince?

Hm?

You ride all around the country, not even armed?

Unarmed?

Of course I'm armed.

Armed like a one man army, a veritable fortress,

a light brigade.

Why, challenging Winslow Quince is tantamount to setting

a sun on the British Empire.

Not a man for hand guns, prefer a rifle.

Deadlier. Accurater.

Harder to find.

Ha!

Here's my trusty fowling piece.

[shot]

[horse whinnying]

The old devil's gone into business for herself.

What you are doing?

This instrument has a hair trigger.

Well, you better, put it away.

You'll scoop this horse right out from underneath me.

A shattering experience.

And on a day when I'm particularly

sensitive to noise.

You ought to be careful about handling

those guns, Mr. Quince.

You've got at a point.

Say, son, would you slither back into the wagon

and get me another bottle of bomb?

Right in back, just inside the tailgate in that box.

Yes, sir.

The best bomb this side of Gilead.

Why, Mr. Quince, that's just whiskey.

Mhm.

Don't you be misled by the label, boy.

I just put that on the bottles of bomb

to fool the patent thieves, who are after the formula.

[laughs]

Well, the way you make a face each time it takes a dose,

it doesn't look too good tasting.

Horrible.

Absolutely ghastly.

Well then, what's it good for?

The episoadic chill blanes, moist vapors,

and the galloping clangs.

Uh?

Is any of that catching?

Not until you're old enough for the bomb.

Proceed.

WINSLOW QUINCE: Mr. McCain, you have been a friend in need.

My need.

Well, I wouldn't leave anybody sitting on that rock.

Glad to be of help.

As a gesture in my appreciation,

I'd like you to accept this pocket watch, left

me by my great grand daddy.

No, thank you.

You don't owe me a thing.

You are a true gentleman.

I won't insult you by offering you any money.

Of course not.

However, I have here a little something for your son.

Whoop-- Now, these genuine silver

plated spurs were worn by General Robert

E. Lee at the Boston Tea Party.

For your son, Mark.

It's kind of you, Mr. Quince.

I never used them.

Never straddle a horse.

They were left me by my great-great granddaddy.

Well, I tell you, Mark won't waste these on horses.

I'm sure he'll save them for barn dances.

Couldn't put them to better use.

Goodbye, Mr. Quince.

And a good day to you, sirrah.

Sirrah.

Goodbye, boy.

MARK MCCAIN: Goodbye, Mr. Quince.

Lose a horse?

No.

Found a wagon.

Not much good without a horse.

I'll trade you the wagon for two horses.

Might give you one horse.

I haven't got a saddle.

What in the world would you do with two horses?

Trade you one horse for a new wheel,

mounted right here on this wagon.

But I'd own the wagon.

Well, if I rode out of here with my horse

pulling my wheel and your wagon happened to come along,

I couldn't help that, could I?

Say, If you've got any money, I'm going to enjoy

doing business with you

Well, I have a group of gold coins as long as your nose.

Well, welcome to my parlor, sir.

WINSLOW QUINCE: Heh heh.

MICAH: Lucas, boy. and Mark.

Hello, Micah.

How was your trip?

Pretty dull, Micah.

Although we got top price for our twenty head.

Well, while you two been duding it up in the big city,

we had use some pretty good action right

in this neck of the woods. - Oh?

What happened?

Here.

Here, this just came in.

Know any of those people?

LUCAS MCCAIN: No, I don't think so.

Who are they?

Well, what concerns me more is, where they were.

Richard Tucker was a wealthy rancher

about 100 miles north of here.

He was bush whacked.

They took his watch and money.

The woman was killed about 15 miles closer.

They robbed her of a lady's locket watch.

Murdering a woman just to rob her.

Shebson and was mending fences on foot.

He was unarmed, didn't have two dimes to rub together.

They shot him in the back just for his boots, the only thing

he had on him of any value.

LUCAS MCCAIN: Sounds like the murderer is working

his way towards North Fork.

MICAH: He's closer than that.

Curtis and Barnes were working on the railroad gang,

laying track.

They were unarmed.

They were paid off in newly minted coins

and were on their way to North Fork to let off a little steam.

That's less than 15 miles outside of town, Micah.

I don't suppose you met any strangers along the trail?

The killer was known to travel right over the route.

Well, we did run into a stranger,

but I can guarantee you he didn't kill

anything more than a bottle.

We did see Matt Larson, though, when we hit Santa Fe.

Matt Larson?

I didn't know he was back in the territory.

We'll have to send out a wire on him.

Say, if he's the killer and turns up around here,

I hope I can hold the people back long enough for a trial.

It's all I've been talking about lately.

How about this stranger you said you met?

A peddler named Quince.

Like I said, he's no threat to anybody.

MICAH: Well, I'll send out that wire, and larson him.

Come on, I'll buy you a beer.

Would you water the horses, son?

Sure, Pa.

WINSLOW QUINCE: Appears to be satisfactory.

No, let's see.

The agreed on price was $20.

No, the agreed on price was $30.

$20 for the wheel, $10 for the horse.

Whew. Yes.

Yes. How forgetful of me.

Now in return, I shall paint you a nice $30 sign.

I see it in new gothic, or perhaps Old English--

I don't need a sign.

Oh. well then.

Very well.

Come with me.

I have here a selection of perfectly safe, high grade

iron.

That's railroad steel.

It can be cut into small portions

and curled into horse shoes.

Horse shoes I've got, money I haven't.

$30 cash.

Ah.

Here's your money in gold.

It will never bring you happiness, not if I

have anything to say about it.

10, 20, 30.

Oh, you wouldn't consider double or nothing?

[spurs jingling]

Something on your mind?

Not exactly.

Pa, those rails in Mr. Quincy's wagon?

He must've been pretty close to the railroad.

That railroad runs pretty close to the trail.

And these spurs, Michael was saying that that fence mender

didn't have anything, except in a pair of boots,

he must've been wearing spurs.

Everybody on the rand wears spurs, Mark.

Yeah, but--

Well, you know that gun that he showed

us, the one that went off? - Mm-hmm.

Well, there's another gun in that wagon.

I saw it.

It's a handgun, Pa.

Mark, do you think Mr. Quince is a killer?

Well, he could be.

He was there.

And so were we.

Yeah, but he had a reason, Pa.

Why, there was all that money.

Well, you're a pretty close man with a dollar, yourself.

But why wouldn't he--

Why wouldn't he tell us anything about that extra gun?

Maybe he heard about the killings.

Maybe he was thinking the same things about us

that you're thinking about him.

Aw, do we look like a couple of bushwhackers?

Bushwhackers don't often look like bushwhackers, Mark.

Now, come on, a few railroad tracks, spurs, a gun.

They're all circumstantial, nothing really positive.

And if there's no positive evidence,

you've got to look at the accused man.

You've got to say to yourself, is he the kind

of a man who'd really do this?

Now you look at Mr. Quince that we, and forget the evidence.

What do you really think about him?

Well, like you said, Pa.

He doesn't look much like bushwhacker.

You mean that's one more piece of evidence against him?

I'm just repeating your words.

WINSLOW QUINCE: Whoa, boy.

Mrs. Clerk?

Bellman?

Boy?

Boy?

May I help you sir?

Boy!

Boy, you have changed!

Tee-hee.

And I must say it is for the better.

Whoo-hoo.

(LAUGHING) Is there something I can do for you, sir?

Ah, Erin go Bragh.

Not of the old side, myself, but I admire you Irish country-folk

as the makers of bomb.

County Cork bomb was the finest bomb

in all the land, all the word.

Ah, then it's here to reminisce, you are?

I'm here to rent a room, I am.

I see a sweet little something with a nice vista,

something overlooking the cost.

Well, there's the presidential suite at $2 a day.

I'll take it.

A week will be fine.

In advance.

I see it all, now.

Across the front of your charming establishment, a $14

sign.

Ah, the sign outside's only been there two months.

That'll be $14.

A penurious population.

This lady's pocket watch is worth in excess of $20,

yours for a week's lodging.

$6, three days.

So you doubt the integrity of Winslow Quince.

Well, feast your eyes on this genuine twenty-one jeweled

pocket chronometer.

A family heirloom, worth at least $20.

$8.

$6.

$14.

That'll make out your week.

Tell me one thing, Mr. Quince.

Where did you come by this watch?

That watch was left me by a very wealthy gentleman

who roomed with my parents.

And what does the R.T. Stand for?

Rich tenant?

I suppose you'll be wanting to see your accommodation?

All in good time.

Could you direct me first to the local vintner?

That is, the nearest bomb constructor?

Well, if you'll be having your bomb a glass at a time,

we said gentlemen here.

I want to buy it in quantity.

It is better to have more and not need, than to have less

and want.

Well, there's Sweeney's saloon right down the street.

I go, but I shall return.

He he he.

Hey!

[laughter]

Welcome home.

It's good to be back with all that trouble up the trail.

Don't tell me you worried about me?

It was the bushwhacker I was worried about.

And were there any pretty Colleens about in the city?

I don't know, but Mark said there were quite a few.

Notice anything new?

Where'd you get that?

I did it myself.

You a watch maker now?

I'm talking about my new hairdo,

what are you talking about?

Talking about that locket watch.

Oh.

Mr. Quince gave it to me for a week's lodging.

Why?

Is there anything wrong?

I don't know.

Ooh!

Great Scott!

Why don't you look where you're going?

I make it a point of looking directly at the object

towards which I am heading--

Oh.

Sorry Marshall, didn't notice the little trinket.

Just a minute.

Are you the man that rode in with Lucas McCain awhile ago?

Fine young men, both of them.

Mm-hmm.

I see now what he meant.

Huh?

You intend to tack that up without the use of a hammer?

I do.

Why don't you use the butt of your gun?

The last time I tried that, the walnut grips come off.

I was unarmed for two days.

Why not use a rock?

Instead of a hammer?

Instead of a gun?

[laughs]

It was quite a mix-up.

The red men scalped my horse, stole me,

and massacred the Calvary.

I had to cut my way through a writhing wall of Apaches

with nothing but a paring knife.

I expect that I'd better have a keg of this bomb, too.

What kind is it?

Red-eye bomb.

Red eye?

Well, I expect to the larger sense, bomb is bomb.

What's the tot?

$58.

$58?

I can see it now.

You can see what, now?

A $58 sign across the front of this business establishment,

in Roman style.

No, no, no, no.

I think a fine cursive italic.

North Folk Saloon.

I'll get the paint.

I've got a sign.

This is a cash deal.

I have never run into such a money grubbing community.

And one that doubted the power of advertising.

I have here a genuine gents' diamond

ring, worth in excess of $100.

Take it to your local jeweler if you don't believe me.

I'll mind the store for you.

MICAH: Richard Tucker, murdered, known to be missing

a watch and a diamond ring.

Dallas Dorn, murdered, known to be

missing a lady's locket watch.

Chub Shebson, murdered, known to be

missing a pair of boots, and probably the spurs

that go with them.

Now, you belatedly tell me he had railroad steel, a six

gun, and newly minted coins.

These people were all murdered by a six gun.

And he must have been near a rail head to get that steal.

Oh, I know we've got all kinds of evidence against him,

too much in fact.

I just can't put the man together as a murder, Micah.

I still think you should be looking for Matt Larson.

Lucas, must you always be right

that you'll overlook a whole multitude of wrongs just

to be sure?

It's not a question of me being right,

it's all of us being right.

Now you arrest him for those murders,

the way you say people feel, what kind of a hearing

is he going to get?

They didn't make just one locket watch and stop.

And watches bearing the initials R.T.,

and the diamond ring he gave Sweeney, the spurs

he gave Mark, what about those? - That's just it.

Now, why would he come to a place

not 15 miles from where he committed the murder

and start throwing evidence all over town?

Could be, he thought he'd here ahead of the news.

He took one of these posters off my bulletin board

to keep it from becoming public knowledge

Micah's right, he planned to be away from here

before the facts caught up with him.

Well Lucas, I guess you want him to ride out, scott free?

No, I didn't say that, Micah.

But the way you're talking, there's

no need for a hearing or trial, you might as well hang him.

Ah.

Good afternoon, Marshall.

Miss.

And you, Mr. McCain.

Ha ha.

It warms my heart to see such a gathering, representative

the local citizenry.

I see you've collected the trinkets.

I suggest that you retain them.

I have every reason to believe that they may constitute

very important legal evidence.

Well, I'm glad you feel that way about Mr. Quince,

because that puts us all in complete agreement.

Now, would you like to make a statement?

I certainly would.

Remove your hands from my body.

What is the meaning of this?

You are under arrest.

Upon what charge?

Murder.

I did not kill that man.

What man?

I am not at liberty to divulge what man I did not kill.

I will speak only in the presence of my barrister.

Show me to my room.

I give up, you talk to him, Lucas.

Now, Quince.

I don't happen to believe you are guilty,

but you're sure making it hard to prove my point.

Mr. McCain-- MARK MCCAIN: Micah!

Micah, come here!

If I confide in you McCain, will you

promise to turn over to me any monies

that may be forthcoming from this information.

- Agreed. - All right.

I know all about the bushwhacker.

know all about the bushwhacker?

I-- MICAH: Lucas!

Lucas!

Pyrite here just come in with Matt Larsen's body.

He found the wallets of two of the murder victims on him.

So I guess that clears it up.

Larson was the bushwhacker.

He said, your money or your life.

And that's when I decided to shoot him.

[inaudible] That gentleman is a brazen liar.

I personally dispatched that rogue.

You didn't even see the body, how do you know?

Why, I discovered those two wallets

when I went through the pockets of the bushwhacker.

I didn't know he was then.

So you shot him?

No, sir.

I was unable to find my fowling piece in time.

Well, if he didn't shoot him, how'd you kill him?

And how do you explain that bullet hole in him?

He rode into my camp, attempting to burglarize me.

Well, some time back, the lock on my strongbox rusted away,

and I put a tiny little rattlesnake

inside, sort of as a sentry.

Friendly little fellow, unless riled.

Well, that blaggard thrust his hand inside,

and the little chap took a nibble, right in a vein.

We discussed it until he died.

I, then, did lift certain of his personal effects,

in order to lighten his load to the happy hunting ground.

And two miles from that spot, a wheel departed my wagon.

And that gentleman, there, is a knave.

That ain't the truth.

I shot that feller, and I want the award.

You didn't bury Larson?

I was devoid of a shovel at the time.

That minor thief probably came upon the dead body,

and shot it in order to completely

enhance the fabrication.

Was there any blood about the wound?

He's right Lucas, dead bodies don't bleed.

Now, why did you take that poster off my bulletin board?

Well, when I realized who he was,

naturally I lusted after the reward.

Well, he might have been a little dead when I shot him.

But I earned that $500 reward, I brought him in.

That body on that jackass belongs to me.

As surely as night follows day.

Lucas.

Lucas, what do you think?

I don't know.

They're both taking liberties with the facts.

Well, they're both out for the reward.

Maybe I-- Maybe I'd better split it.

I don't think there's anything else you can do.

Yeah.

Ah, Marshall.

I knew that I could depend on you to uphold

the principles of justice.

I knew you wouldn't be swayed.

Say, how do you cut a notch in a snake?

PYRITE: I brought in that killer.

He was a victim of a snake to which I hold clear title.

MICAH: Now, listen here, you two.

There's a reward, and you're both going to split

it, and be happy about it.

Or you'll share this jail cell.

What do you do for a living?

I am sole owner and operator of a gold mine.

That Peyote Princess.

Say that again.

The Peyote Princess.

Peyote Princess.

Oh, I can see it all now.

See what?

A $250 sign across the landscape.

The Peyote Princess.

Py-- what's your full name?

Pyrite Rand.

Pyrite Rand. Prop.

Prop?

I spell it all out!

Proprietor.

Oh, what a sight!

People will come from miles around merely to gape.

The eighth wonder of the world!

Oh what a sign I will paint for you!

What color paint?

Think there's much of a future in sign painting, pa?

You thinking of taking it up?

Oh, I don't know.

Mr. Quince has made $500 in one day at it.

Don't be carried away by the glamour, boy.

Sometimes I'll go two, even three days without making $500.

What in tarnation is that?

Bastille.

Named after a very famous French [inaudible].

Needs one more touch.

[laughter]

Sign painters should never step back to admire his work.

[laughter]

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