Original subtitles

- [Man] All right, turn around.

(men shouting)

- Mustang Pete and his gang!

Get them horses out of here, boys!

(guns firing)

(men shouting)

(guns firing)

(men shouting)

(men shouting)

- Them horses are heading across the border by now.

(horses whinnying) (men shouting)

- You said it.

Get him on his horse, boys.

(hooves clomping) (men shouting)

(men shouting)

- Hello, 'Stang.

- Here's another bunch of broncs

for them fellers across the line.

- A nice herd.

- Them horse wranglers put up a fight this time.

- Oh, is that so?

- This country's sure getting riled up against us.

- Well, this will be your last raid, Mustang.

The boss has got a new scheme that'll keep those hombres

below the line happy and supplied.

And cut out all the rest too.

- Sounds good.

- You're moving over to Pecos County.

(hooves clomping)

- Heard you've been having some luck, Ms. Joan.

Dropped in to see if I could be of any help.

- You were my dad's friend, Marshal.

When he died,

he left me this ranch,

a lot of debt,

a deputy marshal to depend on,

and a bunch of useless horses eating their heads off.

- Times have been hard along the border.

- How well I know it.

I heard the army was in the market for re-mounts.

So, I wrote the department and now, do you know,

that those same horses may help pay my debt.

- And the whole county will be glad to hear that.

- A Captain Harford,

re-mount officer, is on his way now to close the deal.

We start the round-up tomorrow.

(hooves clomping)

- Trail him.

I'll get the boy.

- Come on!

- Morning, stranger.

- Good morning.

I hope you're well enjoying our scenery.

- I certainly am.

- [Man] Hey, look it here.

Looking for trouble.

- He's riding into the canyon.

We'll head him off at the south end.

Come on, boys, get down there.

(hooves clomping)

- Have a cigarette? - No, thanks.

Hello, boys.

- Hi.

- Rope, Jimmy!

It's him all right.

- Sure is.

- Lend a hand with him.

- You can't get away with this.

- Oh, yes we can.

You just stay quiet and peaceful.

Dummy has his orders.

Nice pinto you ride.

It'll sure look swell with our boss in the saddle.

(hooves clomping)

- There's a stranger asking for ya

down at the corral, Ms. Joan.

Reckon it's that army officer you've been expecting.

- Thanks, Tom.

In a minute.

(hooves clomping)

- Whoa, pinto.

Whoa, boy.

- Hello, Mr. Rankin.

- Hello, yourself.

Ms. Prescott.

- Nice to see you back.

- Couldn't stay away.

Not after that meal you served me last week.

- The old story: to win a man, feed him well.

Have a chair.

- Another dinner like that

and I'm practically won.

Had a long ride?

- Yes, just looking over the horses.

I think I may sell 'em to the army.

- So I heard.

Perhaps I can help.

- Thanks.

Oh, by the way,

Uncle Sam's man is here right now.

- What's his name?

- My name is Captain Hartford.

And are you Ms. Prescott?

- Yes, and I've been expecting you, Captain Hartford.

This is Mr. Rankin.

Mr. Rankin heard about the horses

and came to offer his help.

- Indeed.

Are you interested in horses, Mr. Rankin?

- More interested in Ms. Prescott's cooking,

Captain Hartford.

(laughing)

- Sit down, gentlemen.

- Thank you.

- Thanks, I'll stand.

- Here are my credentials.

It is all very simple.

When the horses are corralled and counted,

I'll give you a government draft.

- How 'bout inspecting those horses?

Who's going to do that?

- I'll take care of that.

And I'll arrange to drive them

to the junction for loading too.

- The junction's right on the border.

It would be just too bad if some of those horses

strayed over the line.

- Oh, I hope not.

- I'll take that responsibility.

- Where are your insignias, Captain?

- Here they are, Mr. Rankin.

Saves a lot of saluting.

And I can wear a dress suit on this mission,

if I cared too, Ms. Prescott.

When the horses are ready, we'll close the deal.

In the meantime,

I'll do everything to protect your interests.

- Good day, Captain Hartford.

- Good day, Ms. Prescott.

(hooves clomping)

(hooves clomping)

(tapping)

- Come on, boy.

Whoa.

(clanging)

(grunting)

- Don't move, Mr. Rankin.

You're coming with me.

We've got a lot to talk about.

- We sure have.

- Just waiting around for a chance

to drive those horses across the border, eh?

Keep moving.

Halt, Mr. Rankin.

We turn to the left here.

- Suppose I decide not to turn?

- That would be just too bad.

- You win.

I'm in a hole.

(rustling)

Don't shoot!

(rustling)

(gagging)

- Now, Captain Hartford,

do you drop that gun or do I heave up on your arm?

(groaning)

(hoof thumping)

He's a fine horse, Hartford.

Ever see another just like him?

- No, I never have.

And I'm warning you, Rankin,

I'm taking steps to keep you safe

until those horses are shipped.

- Sure, I know.

You didn't press your trigger

because you want to know what I know.

- And you didn't shoot

because those horses wouldn't be handy for you

if I wasn't here.

They'd stay out on the range.

(laughs)

- Maybe you're right.

See ya later.

Ho, pinto.

What's the matter with you, anyway?

Ho, boy.

Ho.

What's the matter with you?

All right, go on, take me there.

- All right, Captain, I'm listening.

You can depend on me, too.

- You know, I'm convinced that he's an agent

for those revolutionists and bandits below the border.

Just waiting for a chance for Ms. Prescott's horses

to be easy to run off.

You know, that trick's been worked before, sir.

- I know.

And I ain't aimin' to have no sharpshooter

make a monkey out of me.

- Play it safe. Throw him in jail.

- On what charge?

Anyway, that would tip my hand.

I'd admire to catch him red-handed.

Sure would look swell with his neck stretched to a tree

and that pretty pinto steppin' out from under him.

(laughs)

That's the way we treat horse thieves

in these parts, Captain.

- Just keep him where we can see him.

I'm ready to buy those horses.

- That's easy.

Let's go.

- Boys, I appreciate your sticking by me

during these hard times.

I'm glad I'll soon be able to repay you.

- Shucks, we ain't done nothin', Ms. Joan.

We told your old man we'd stick, and we will.

- You said it. We sure will.

- All right, boys, we’ll round up every nag in sight.

Let’s go.

(men shouting)

(men shouting)

- That Circle A outfit is sure makin' it easy for us.

- Who are those men up there?

(men shouting)

Was Rankin with them?

- I don't know, Ms. Joan

but I reckon we better get this job done pronto.

- You're right.

Hustle them into the corral.

(men shouting)

(men shouting)

(men shouting)

(horse whinnying)

- [Ranch Hand] Well, there they are.

All safe and counted, Ms. Joan.

(hooves clomping)

- [Rider] Whoa, whoa.

(humming)

♪ Laughing at my troubles and my woes ♪

♪ And I'm telling you no lie ♪

♪ When I hope that 'til I die ♪

♪ I'll be singing and a-riding ♪

♪ Down the highway ♪

(laughs)

- Singer Martin,

what brings you here?

- Orders to get the best deputy marshal in Texas

to work with me.

(laughs)

- Well, if you mean me,

just count me in.

Been a long time since you and I worked together.

- Yeah, take a look at this.

(humming)

Here's his first instructions.

That was thrown through my window in Presidio.

It was wrapped around a stone.

- It's serious, all right.

But what's up?

- You know this fella, Rankin?

- No, I don't.

Do you know this fella, Bainbridge?

- No, I don't know him either.

But that code number is the big chief's.

Interest seems to be around a shipment of army re-mounts

by a girl named Prescott.

Know her?

- Sure.

I know all about the horses too.

What is the secret service worrying about

a couple hundred cayuses for?

- Ah, it goes deeper than that.

Anyway, let's go on out to the ranch.

- All right.

- Now, if you get orders with this signature on them,

can I depend on you to cooperate?

- You sure can.

- I thought so.

Remember the signature, Bainbridge.

- Bainbridge it is, Singer.

(laughs)

(humming)

(snoring)

(grunting)

(panting)

(grunting)

- I don't believe there's any danger.

Surely you don't expect a raid?

- I expect anything.

Your horses pass inspection, all right.

And as soon as I know that fella Rankin

is where he can be watched, I'll give you a draft.

Then your worries will be over.

- Don't you worry, Ms. Joan,

we'll take care of Rankin.

- I'll take care of myself, Sheriff.

- Been keepin' an eye on him, like you said, Sheriff.

- And we trailed him here.

- Good work.

I ain't takin' any chances with you, young fella.

Now you can get to work, Captain Hartford.

- Oh, I'm sure you're wrong about Mr. Rankin, Sheriff.

- I don't think so.

Anyway, nobody's going to hurt him if he minds his business.

Let's get to work.

(hooves clomping)

- Nice lookin' pinto.

- Sure is.

I used to know a couple of horses looked just like him.

They were twins.

- [Marshal] That so?

Let's go.

- You go on into the house.

I want to take a look around.

(horse whinnying)

- You're exceeding your authority, Sheriff.

Nobody forced me to come here.

- Yeah?

Well, when Ms. Joan has her pay

and them horses leave the corral,

maybe I'll give this back to you.

After we've had a little pow wow.

- [Walsh] Evening, Ms. Joan.

Why hello, Sheriff.

Say, what brings you here?

- My horse brought me here.

- Captain Hartford,

this is Deputy Marshal Walsh.

- I'm glad to know you, Marshal.

- How are ya?

Ms. Joan,

do you know a fella named Rankin?

- Why, you're looking at Mr. Rankin now.

- What do you want to know about me?

- Just step outside with me and I'll tell ya.

- Not on your life.

He don't leave this room.

- Marshal, I'm a re-mount officer

and I'm about to sign a draft for Ms. Prescott's horses.

And I won't pay a dime to her

unless Rankin stays in this room.

- All right, he can stay.

But I'll be talkin' to you after it's all over, Rankin.

- You ain't talkin' to nobody.

Rankin's my dish.

- Pardon me, gentlemen, let's get down to business.

Let's glance over that bill of sale, Ms. Prescott.

(hooves clomping)

- This thing's about ready to pop.

Stick around for the chief's orders.

It's a lead pipe cinch.

- It sure is.

And here are your orders.

Everybody reach for the sky.

Turn around.

(humming)

- [Rustler] Look out.

That's my hand, it's broken.

- Sign this paper.

I'm ready to give you a draft.

- Don't sign that bill of sale.

- Sign that paper,

Ms. Prescott.

- Don't, please.

Wait another day.

- Stallin' time, ain't ya?

- It won't work, Rankin.

- Please.

- Good girl.

Here's your draft.

(all chattering)

Thanks, Sheriff.

Good night, Ms. Prescott.

I'm sorry to have disarranged your plans, Mr. Rankin.

(glass shattering)

- The twin pinto.

- Back to the house.

- You win, Hartford.

- You're right, Rankin.

- Where are your men to drive those horses to the junction?

- They're here.

And they're gonna take care of you too.

- Can't we make a deal?

(laughs)

- Get going.

(crashing)

(gun firing)

- Rankin!

Rankin!

(gun firing)

- Come on!

Get out of there!

Hey, hey!

- He's runnin' off the horses.

(hooves clomping)

You stick by me, Captain,

and I'll see that you don't get hurt.

Get mounted.

(hooves clomping)

(footsteps thudding)

(door opening)

Jack,

Jack, ol' pal, it's me.

- Where did you come from?

- The twin pinto.

Your pinto, he led me here.

Now we can finish our job.

Let's go.

(yells)

- Wait, wait.

You haven't got a chance.

(hooves clomping)

(laughing)

(gun firing)

- Thanks, Martin.

You were just in time.

- That's all right.

And you found him at last.

(hooves clomping)

- Just a moment.

You stick by me, Captain.

- All right.

- Put out your wrists, Rankin.

We'll show ya. - Wait a minute.

He's mine.

- Wait nothin'.

- How did you get in here?

- I got your fellas all nicely trussed up

in Ms. Prescott's barn,

Captain Hartford.

Marshal, here is your prisoner.

- Folks, let me introduce to you the real Captain Hartford.

- Who in blazes is he?

- Bainbridge.

Secret service.

- That's a lie.

- Come on, get goin'.

- It's a lie, I tell you.

- [Marshal] Come on.

- [Sheriff] Well, it all beats me.

(laughs)

- Better luck next time, Sheriff.

- But why did you stampede my horses?

- That draft wasn't worth a nickel.

- Oh, I'm ashamed.

You were trying to help me all the time.

Come on, let's go home.