All language subtitles for Death.Valley.Days.S11E01.The.Hangtown.Fry.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-THR_track3_[eng]

What's going on here?

What's going on here?

Easy, boys, easy.

Keever! Frenchie!

Hold it!
Both of you. Ah, leave them be, Marshal.

The judge is... is right.
This is a matter of honor.

Honor? You don't even know
the meaning of the word.

You French...

That's enough!

All right. Forget
the whole thing now,
both of you.

I'm willing, but I'm
not so sure about him.

And don't you be, either.

Oh, Frenchie's okay.
He doesn't seem like the kind
to carry a grudge.

Yeah? He killed a man once.

And I don't think
it was out of love.

Howdy, folks.
I'm the Old Ranger.

In Central California,
near Sacramento,

is a town called Placerville.

During the gold mining days,
it was known as Hangtown.

It became well known
because they used hanging

as a cure for every crime
in the book.

But Placerville is also famous
for a very special dish,

a recipe with a dash of murder
to this day known as...

Let her go.

All we need's a new crossbeam,

and we're in business again.

You've worn this one out.

What we need's
a whole new gallows.

Take it up the next
citizens' meeting.

Can't let a little lumber
hold up justice.

Is that what you dispense
at those kangaroo courts
of yours?

Marshal!

I think something's
happened to my husband.
Something terrible.

Easy now. What makes
you think that, Ella?

Please, just come with me.

Sometimes he works late,
but last night he didn't
come home at all.

So I got up early this morning
and I came down here
and I found this.

His hat. Blasting powder.

That keg was open
kind of careless-like.

Blood.

You ask me, Stan caught
somebody stealing powder

and got himself shot for it.

Where's the body?
And why would a thief
take time to carry it away?

Who knows why?

I don't know why,
but I think I know how.

A wheelbarrow. Wheelbarrow?

You see that track?
Be made by a single wheel.
Wheelbarrow.

Maybe you're right.

Goes out the side door.

Well, it's got
to lead somewhere.

Please stay here, Ella.

I'm sorry, Ella,
but the track did
lead somewhere.

To the abandoned mineshaft
north of town.

You found Stan in there?

No. The shaft was filled
with tons of rocks.

That's what they used
the blasting powder for.
Pssht!

Hide the evidence.

Ella.

Who would want to kill him?

Why, don't be an idiot, Marshal.
Paul Duval, of course.

Duval? Sure.

Stan give the Frenchman
a beating yesterday,
didn't he?

Must have caught him cheating
on the books or something.

No. That fight was
because of me.

Duval kept annoying me.
I finally had to tell Stan.

Well, there it is.

We ought to send him
back where he come from.

In a wooden box, maybe.

Now, hold on, Judge.

I grant you the evidence
points to the Frenchman.

But we're talking
about murder and we haven't
found the body yet.

Well, it'd take weeks
to dig him out.

Besides, that
whole mine's a trap.

Now, are you willing to risk
the lives of men digging up
a buried body

just to bury it again?

Not me. You better
take him in, Marshal,

or there'll be lots worse
happening to him.

Ah, what a way to start
the new day.

Café au lait, to remind me
of my home in France.

Madame Alton, your skill
in the kitchen is matched

only by the charm
of your beautiful daughter.

One is at a loss to decide
which one is the most beautiful,

the mother or the daughter. So...

Mr. Duval, you're never
at a loss when it comes
to saying nice things to ladies.

Or doing them.

Oh, Marshal Corey,
Monsieur Mears.

You must join me, please.

You're gonna join us,
Frenchie. I'll handle this.

Do you have a gun?

Of course. My matched
dueling pistols.

Oh, but I never carry
them with me.

Where you hiding them?

Hiding? Uh, they're
in the case in my room,
as always.

Let's take a look.

But I... Let's go.

Ah. Pretty fancy.

They've been in my family
for many years.

Still like new, huh?

Of course, they...
they are never used.

This one was.

Not too long ago, either.

Maybe last night?

But I... I don't understand.

Ann, what do they mean?

I don't know myself.

What do you mean?

I'm afraid, Ann, I'm going to
have to put him under arrest.

For the murder of Stan Keever.

Paul,

what Ella said about... about you
trying to make love to her,

it wasn't true, was it?

It's ridiculous. It's
just as crazy as saying
that I killed Keever.

Who did?

I'm afraid we'll never know.

Judge Mears seems to go
very fast.

If we just had a little bit
more time, I'd find out myself.

How?
I don't know,
but I'd try.

Afraid that's all
for tonight, Ann.

Isn't there any chance
of a postponement?

Still set for high noon.

May I see him once more?

In the morning.

You can bring him his breakfast.

As you know, it's customary
for a man facing the gallows

to get anything he wants
for his last meal.

That's very thoughtful.

Anything?

It ain't much, considering
a man's about to die.

Anything at all?

Yeah. Ham, steak.

Venison. Even champagne.

Is that your promise? That's my promise.

Even if I order a dish
made with eggs that
cost one dollar each?

Price don't matter.

Your charming mother is
such an excellent chef.

I'm sure she could prepare
anything I order.

If she had
the right ingredients.

She has oysters, no?

Oysters in Hangtown? Mm.

How about some nice,
fresh mountain trout, huh?

Never. The recipe calls
for oysters, not trout.

Just what is this dish?

Mm. It's a... It's a delicacy

that comes from La Belle France.

Well, it's only known
in my native Provence.

One must combine, very artfully,

the eggs and the bacon,
very finely diced,

and potatoes,
which must be cubed.

And, well, of course, truffles.

What's a truffle?

Mushrooms will do.

And those oysters, of course?

But of course. Without them,
the dish is nothing.

Just what do you call
this concoction?

Oh, the name is, uh...

is, um, very difficult
to translate.

Not to mention the difficulty
of getting those oysters.

Well, you could have them
brought from San Francisco.

It would only take
a couple of days.

But at noon tomorrow he...

You'll have to postpone
it, Marshal.

You said Paul could have
anything he wanted. Anything.

It was a promise.

It was.

Yes. I guess it was a promise.

That's the way it's gonna be.

Cal. Yeah?

I guess we can let the boys
get a good night's rest.

Not if we want to get
this finished by noon.

Well, there's no hurry.
We've had a postponement.

On whose orders?

Mine.

Keep right at it, men.

Court passed a sentence,
set a time for the hanging.

Tomorrow it is.

At noon.

Thank you, Mother.

You've really made Paul
a lovely meal.

For your sake, I'm glad
it's not his last.

There isn't going to be
any "last."

Ann.

Are you sure you
really love him?

Mother, you know I do.

Could be he's just turned
your head with that French
charm of his.

And could be Ella Keever
was telling the truth in court.

No. She wasn't.

I know she wasn't.

Run along before the lunch
gets cold.

Let's understand
each other, Marshal.

We're not gonna let
some oysters
hold up a hanging.

They've been ordered
from San Francisco and they're
practically on their way.

You may not have the stomach
to carry out your duty, Marshal,

but me and the boys have.
Haven't we?

I don't want to spoil
your fun, Calvin.

But he's in my jurisdiction,
and that's where he stays

until he gets that last meal
I promised him.

Well, it better get here soon.

Let me through, please.

You heard the lady.
Step aside, boys.

Thank you, Marshal.

All right, break it up,
break it up.

Your hanging's not
called off, Calvin.

It's just postponed for a time.

It may be a little sooner
than you think.

It's hopeless.
Let them take me now.

It's... It's better than
this... this waiting.

No, no. Please,
we mustn't give up hope.

I got rid of them for now,
but with our good judge
steaming them up,

there's no telling how long
I can hold them off.

You two take your time.

Oh, Marshal, please don't leave.

We need your help.

Done all I can.

He didn't get a fair trial.
You know that.

Maybe it was kind of fast,
but the evidence was
all against him.

Then you honestly believe
that he's guilty?

I'm afraid so.

But if I can find
some proof, any proof,

that he didn't do it,
then will you help us?

Naturally. What do
you have in mind?

Well... Well, there was
just too much evidence
against him,

and it was all too plain.

I don't think I understand
what you mean.

The blasting powder.

So carefully spilled.

And the wheelbarrow tracks,
so obviously leading
to the old mineshaft.

All right, but how do you
explain that Stan Keever
was killed with his pistol?

It was fired, that's true,
but not by me.

Well, maybe someone could have
stolen the gun from his room

and then returned it. It was not hidden.
It was easy to find.

And everyone in town
knew that he had a pair
of French dueling pistols.

And besides, if I had shot
one of them,

why would I leave it not
cleaned, so conveniently?

Yes.

That may be.

But how do you prove it?

Well, I... I don't know.

All morning, I've been
trying to figure out
what enemy of Stan Keever's

might have killed him.

Maybe I was wrong.

It might have been a friend.

There isn't much time, is there?

All depends on that stage
from San Francisco.

Here you are, Mrs. Keever.

Thank you.

Mrs. Keever, may I speak
to you for a moment, please?

I'm in a hurry.

Why did you say Paul
made advances to you?

Because he did.

Or was it because he didn't?

Why did she stop by?

Well, since she started making
these deliveries to the camp,

she's been taking
a few sandwiches along.

Apparently, losing
her husband hasn't
affected her appetite any.

I think it's time you started
eating something, dear.

I couldn't.

Well, you have to go on living,
no matter what happens.

I can't see you pining
over Paul Duval.
He isn't worth it.

Mother!

I... I held off telling you this
because you were
hurting so much,

I didn't want
to hurt you any more.

Telling me what?

Well, it's true.
There was something
between Paul and Mrs. Keever.

Mother, how can you say
a thing like that?

I saw it with my own eyes.

What? In the dead of night,

I saw Ella Keever
come out of his room.

What night was this?

The night her husband
was murdered.

Oh, Mother, thank you.
You've helped, I think.

Except there's so much to do.

And there isn't much time
to do it in. Ann?

How'd you get in here?

I used Paul's key.

I hope I won't have
to use his gun.

What do you want? The truth.

You got the truth in court.

That wasn't the truth.

That's why I'm retrying
the case in my court.

And I can pass
the death sentence too.

You wouldn't dare. Oh, yes, I would.

I'm not as brave as you, Ella.

If Paul dies, I have
nothing to live for.

I couldn't carry on
the way you have.

The way you so quickly
took over the business.

Taking care of the books,
making the deliveries.

Working so hard.

What are you getting at?

That you killed your
husband. That's insane!

Oh, no. It was just
good business.

With Stan Keever dead,

and Paul paying for it,

all this is yours.

The most successful enterprise
in Hangtown.

Isn't that the way it happened?

All right, I'll tell you.

You were so thorough, Ella.

Too thorough, in pointing
the blame at Paul.

Spilling the powder.

Leaving the wheelbarrow track
that was so easy to discover.

It was all so carefully planned.

But it was too perfect.

You stole Paul's gun,
didn't you?

You're insane.

You were seen.
What did you do with it?

Nothing! People don't steal guns
for nothing.

What did you do with it?

You used it. You killed
your own husband.

No! No, it's not true!

Oh!

All right, I took the gun.
I took the gun,
but I didn't use it.

I swear it.
I can prove it.

All right. You prove it.
You prove it now,

and to the marshal tonight.

All right.

Marshal Corey.

Marshal Corey!

Yelling won't do you
any good, Frenchie!

Listen, Mears, maybe we ought
to at least tell the marshal.

Oh, what for?

It's plain as day
that girl of his

worked on Keever's widow,
softened her up.

Now she's doing the same thing
with the marshal.

I say let's get it over with.

Marshal.

Marshal Corey!

Marshal!

It's me. Ella.

They hang him yet?

All right, Keever, let's go.

Marshal Corey.

Don't look at me like that.

They forced me to do it.

Oh, it's all right, honey.

It's all just a little joke.

We ain't broke no laws.

You almost had an innocent man
killed on the gallows,

and you call it a joke?

You're under arrest,
both of you,
for attempted murder.

You aren't as selfish
as I said you are, Ella.

You were quite willing to share
the business with your husband

while his partner
was hanged by mistake.

I'm innocent.

Mears!

Let him go.

It's Keever. He's alive.

Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.

Fastest run I ever made.

You know, some of that ice
ain't even melted yet.

It's the freshest oysters
to ever hit Hangtown.

And now, for the big steak.

No steak for you, Paul.

I went to a lot of trouble
and expense to get the stuff

for that crazy concoction
of yours.

And I went to a lot of fuss
to fix it for you.

So, now you're going to eat it.

Do you mean I must eat this?

Oh, yes, Paul. We followed
your recipe exactly.

Recipe? There never was
such a recipe.

I just made it up
out of thin air.

To save a man's life.

My own.

Mm.

And so it was that a man
condemned to die on the gallows
at Hangtown,

stalling for time,
dreamed up a dish
that is known to this day

in many restaurants
throughout the West
as the Hangtown Fry.

You ought to try it sometime.

You might like it too.