Tales of Wells Fargo (1957–1962): Season 3, Episode 22 - The Town That Wouldn't Talk - full transcript

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DRIVER: Hyah! Come On!

JIM: I was heading north
in the Dakota territory

to investigate the
death of Cam Fraser,

one of our drivers.

Now, Wells Fargo men
have died in many ways.

Some have been
killed by Indians,

others shot or
knifed in holdups.

But Cam Fraser, well,
he had just plain died.

There wasn't really
anything suspicious about it,

but there had been
no doctor in town

and no cause of death reported.



And the main office
has always liked

to have things wrapped up tidy.

Oh, please, Mr. Teller,
Ed needs help. Look at him.

I'm looking. He's doing fine.

Oh, is he?

Let's be practical, Mrs. Cook.

Ed's in the crisis now.

The nearest doctor
is in Pembina.

By the time he could get here,

your husband would
either be fully recovered or...

Or dead.

He's got no one to
blame but himself.

Well, I can't just stand
by and watch him suffer.

I'm gonna do something!



No. He told you himself.

Well, he didn't know
what he was saying.

He's out of his mind with fever!

I'm talking about before
the fever when he first took ill.

He told you under
no circumstances

to send for a doctor
before tomorrow night.

What kind of a man are you?

A man of my word, Mrs. Cook.

And I promise you this.

You send for a doctor
before tomorrow night,

Ed dies for certain.

Sit tight, and he's
got a fighting chance.

JIM: It's been said that if
a man kept his eyes open,

hardly a day would go by

but what he'd learned
something new.

Still in all, I couldn't
help feeling that now

I had seen just
about everything,

as I watched those two fellas

performing funeral
services for a dead cow.

Evening.

How do?

Something I can do?

I need a room.

Nothing easier. Just sign here.

Let's see, uh, I guess
203 is pretty clean.

One other thing.

Where could I get a doctor?

Healthy young fellow like you,

what would you be
wanting with a doctor?

Can't always judge
a book by its cover.

Mm. For a fact.

But the way I look
at it, often as not,

it's a waste of time to
call in a doc anyway.

How do you mean?

Well, if a man's sick,

he's gonna either
die or get better, right?

Fetch a doc and, often as not,

you're only gonna rush the
end result, one way or the other.

Hmm. With an attitude like that,

you could shorten
up the population

of this country pretty fast.

203 is on the right,

first door past
the head of stairs.

One other thing.

I believe a fellow with the name
of Cam Fraser stopped by here.

The, uh, Wells Fargo driver?

That's the one.

He stopped here,
all right. Permanent.

Buried right outside of town.

A shooting?

Natural causes.

It's hard to believe.

He was one of the
healthiest men I knew.

Supper's 6:00 to 8:00...

if you're interested.

What's the matter,
Jansen? You're not eating.

Don't you feel all right?

Could've told you.

Take me. Hard as
a rock, and why?

Because I make them
cook my meat to a crisp.

That old half-raw stuff
will get you sooner or later.

Take my advice, old man.

What's the matter with him?

Jansen?

Potted, I guess, as usual.

He doesn't look drunk to me.

Well, that's the way
the drink affects Jansen.

Hits everybody
a little different.

Me? I climb the
walls.

Uh, the beef's a mite
cold, but it's good.

What'll you have to eat?

Have I got a choice?

Sure, you got a choice
of that or going hungry.

I'll have beef.

JIM: I've encountered
my share of drunks,

but this was a new ripple.

The old boy was shaking

like something left
over from a tornado.

Potted you said?

If I had a dollar for every
time he's passed out in here.

Nothing to be surprised about.

Old man like that,
must be all of 80.

There's not a trace of
whiskey on his breath,

mainly because he's
stopped breathing.

Wait a minute.

Let's watch this.

Nice thing about the
way this worked out for us.

It ain't legitimately what
you could call murder.

The poor fool just
rode himself to death.

MRS. COOK: Ed!

Ed, where are you?

Ed? Ed? Ed!

Ed? Ed?

Excuse me. What's the trouble?

Oh, please, my husband.

And my little
boy, my little boy.

Please, you've got to help.

How long has he been like this?

I don't know.

He seemed all right
before I dozed off.

Oh, I tried not to.

I... I fought the sleep
as long as I could, but...

Two nights, I've been sitting
up with Ed, my husband,

watching the fever
burn through him.

I guess my strength
just quit on me.

Where's your husband now?

I don't know that, either.

When I woke up just now,
he was gone and... and Timmy...

Well, if he's got
the fever, too,

maybe he's gone after a doctor.

No, he wouldn't do that.

Why not?

He just wouldn't, that's all,

and made me promise
not to send for one.

Well, he got no such
promise from me.

Where you going?

I'm no doctor, ma'am,

and I don't know much
about medicine at all.

But your little boy's in bad
need of medical care right now,

and as fast as I can saddle a
horse, I'm going after a doctor.

Don't you never get off

the subjects of
doctors, Mr. Hardy?

What's that for? For you.

You should try to
leave our town tonight.

That little boy needs
medical attention.

Kids are always taking sick.

It don't mean nothing.

It's part of growing up.

He'll be all right.

Yeah, like the old man
you said was just drunk.

"He'll be all right."
Now he's dead.

I told you before, Mr. Hardie,

we don't believe in
doctors around here.

Well, why don't
you ask that kid?

If he could tell you right now,

I bet he believes in
doctors pretty good.

Tell him what Ed said, Martha.

My husband said, "No doctors."

And what kind of
a mother are you?

Your little boy could be dying.

Listen to him, trying to
throw a scare into you.

Why would I do that?

You've been looking
to start up trouble

ever since you hit town.

Askin' questions,

nosing into matters that
are no concern of yours.

Well, they're my
concern, Mr. Peavey.

With Ed, it was one thing,

Ed's a grown-up and strong and...

And just too ornery to die.

But Timmy's hardly
more than a baby!

He's not that
bad off, I tell you.

That may be so, but I
want it hear it from a doctor.

You understand, Mr. Peavey?

I want a doctor for my boy!

Now, Martha, don't do
anything fool-headed.

Can you handle one of these?

He's not gonna
be out for very long.

When he comes to, you see
that he stays right where he is.

JIM: This was peculiar
country, all right.

If you didn't drop dead
of your own accord,

there were obliging
gunslingers around

who were more than
willing to lend you a hand.

JIM: He was one of the
men I'd seen burying that cow.

But why was he shooting at me?

I didn't know. Unless...

unless maybe he just liked
funerals, no matter whose.

Tell me, Doctor, what is it?

Well, it looks like
malignant pustules.

That's a localized
form of anthrax.

Oh! Anthrax?

Now, now, no need to
take on so, Mrs. Cook.

Fortunately, he seems
to have contracted

only the external form.

Now, there's every
likelihood we could save him.

Well, Ed, my husband,
what about him?

Well, from the symptoms
you've described,

I'd say he has systemic anthrax.

What's that?

Well, anthrax is a highly
infectious disease of animals,

transmissible to the human race.

Now, the localized form,
like your son has here,

we could cure, but...

systemic anthrax.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Cook,

but I'm afraid no matter
where your husband is,

there's very little
chance that he's still alive.

I should've sent
for you yesterday.

That wouldn't have helped.

There's no known cure
for systemic anthrax.

But what puzzles
me is I haven't heard

of a single other
case in this vicinity.

I think you'd better
stick around, Doctor.

You might very well be in
the middle of an epidemic.

Well, now, if that's so,

we must locate the
source immediately.

How much do you know about this?

Very little.

But I think I know
someone who does.

What happened to
that fella, Peavey?

He left.

I asked you to keep him here.

I couldn't stop him.

I thought I could, but...

Well, it takes more than
anger to pull a trigger.

More than hate.

I'm worried, if there are
sick cattle in the district.

That funeral for a cow...

Yesterday, when I
was riding in here,

I saw two men burying a cow.

It didn't make sense
then, but it does now.

Someone's trying to
conceal a sick herd by...

by cutting out the dying cattle.

That ranch lays five
miles south of here,

and it borders the west
bank of the Red River.

Do you know who owns it?

It's the Circle L. It's owned
by a family back east.

The foreman runs it for them.

A man named Teller.

You know him?

He's the one who wouldn't
let me send for a doctor

before tonight

Tonight?

You mean you could've
sent for a doctor tonight

and no one would
have stopped you?

Then they must be
shipping those cattle today.

Will you stay here, Doctor?

I'll go and try to
stop that shipment.

I told you what would happen

if you so much as
opened your mouth.

I didn't say a word.

First thing he asked
for when he hit town

was a doctor for a fact.

You didn't have to
let him ride for one.

You could've stopped him.

Well, I did the best I could.

I'm no gunfighter, Mr. Teller.

You bet you're not.

You're a sneaking cattle thief,

and if you've ruined my deal,

I'm gonna personally see
to it that you hang as one.

Suppose he does bring a doctor.

That don't mean they'll
be able to figure out...

I can't afford to count on
anyone being that stupid.

I got too much
riding on this deal.

The only thing counting
in my favor is time.

The boys started to Roseville
with the herd early this morning.

Anything you want me to do?

I'd say you done enough already.

You stay here and
keep out of sight

till I tell you different.

I'm gonna try
and close that deal

before the doctor discovers
the source of the anthrax.

JIM: This was where I'd seen
the two men burying the cow.

If my hunch was right,

the cattle on this ranch
were infected with anthrax.

Sometimes an animal doesn't
show any anthrax symptoms

till it gets the staggers

just a few hours before it dies.

By keeping a careful watch,

a man could cut out
the obviously sick steers

and pass his herd off on
an unsuspecting buyer.

I had to find the cattle
before that happened.

Where are they?

Wh... What do you mean?

Where's that contaminated herd?

Keep away from me.
I don't know nothin'.

I haven't got time
to be nice to you.

Now, whichever
way is the quickest,

that's how I'm gonna
get it out of you.

Even those trail
drivers are in danger.

They get their money,
they take their chances.

Do they know the
chances they're taking,

that three men are dead already

and a little boy
is critically ill?

How many more men
are going to have to die

to save your worthless neck?

Wh... What do you want to know?

Ask me. I'll tell you anything.

Anything at all.

I want to know where that herd
came from and where it's going.

Everyone that's
been in contact with it

may have contracted
that disease.

Teller bought the herd in
Fairfield County last week.

Got it cheap on
account of its condition.

Figured to cut out
the real sick ones,

sell it quick, and take off.

That ranch is five
miles from town.

How did Fraser and Old Man Jansen
and Ed Cook come in contact with it?

Few nights ago, Cook
rustled a couple of head.

It was a big herd, didn't figure
they'd miss a couple of head.

So you bought 'em off of him.

Well, I didn't know
they were sick.

Soon as I found out, I
burned the rest of the meat.

After Fraser and the others got
sick, why didn't you report it then?

I did.

I told Teller I had reason to
believe his herd was infected.

Thought I was doing him a favor.

Didn't know he already knew.

Teller said if Cook and I
keep didn't our mouths shut,

he'd see us hang for rustling.

And where's Cook now?

Dead.

Tried to make a
break for it last night.

But you can't run from anthrax.

I was lucky. Don't seem
to have touched me.

Where's that herd?

You want to get me killed?

That could happen
one way or the other.

Where's that herd?

Roseville.

Teller's got a deal
to peddle the herd

to Elliot Larson at
the Roseville bank.

But please don't
tell him I told you!

You in charge of
these pens? Yeah.

See that no one
gets near that herd.

You trying to tell me
my business, mister?

I'm telling you you've got a
diseased herd on your hands. Anthrax.

You sure of that?

Reasonably sure. I sent
for a government inspector,

but until he gets
here, I don't know.

You don't have to tell
me that but one time.

It's like this, Fin.

Normally, I wouldn't
think of tying up this much

of the bank's liquid
assets in cattle.

But I couldn't pass up
an opportunity like this

and still sleep nights.

Normally, you wouldn't
get a deal like this,

but the Circle L's overstocked,

and just at a time

when some of our grazing
land was burned out.

So it was either sell 'em
fast or watch 'em starve.

Not that I'm gloating, mind you,

but one man's misfortune
often turns out to be

someone else's bonanza.

Why, I remember during the
Indian trouble in the sixties...

Uh, look, I don't want to
rush you, Mr. Larson, but, uh...

my boys are waiting around
town kinda dry-mouthed.

Of course, Fin. Of course.

I do get a mite
talkie on occasion.

My wife says that's
why I became a banker.

When you're passing
out money, she says,

you've got folks in a position
where they have to listen.

Mr. Larson?

Uh, yes, but I'm busy just now.

If you'll wait outside, Mr...

Hardie. Jim Hardie.

It's not a holdup.
I'm from Wells Fargo.

Can't we just finish
up here, Mr. Larson?

Why, certainly. If you'll just
wait in the bank, Mr. Hardie,

as soon as I've concluded
my business with Mr. Teller...

Mr. Teller's business
is also my business.

There's nothing to be concluded.

What do you mean?

I mean that that herd

he's trying to pass
off on you has anthrax.

I don't know what
this is all about.

You had your buyer
examine my cattle.

He reported them
in good condition.

Why, yes, of course.

Teller knows that it's
impossible for anyone to tell

whether those cattle
have anthrax or not

unless one of them just happens
to have a seizure there on the spot.

What would he know about it,

a hired gun for Wells Fargo?

Now, look here, Hardie,

Just what is Wells Fargo's
interest in this matter?

We had a driver die from
eating that diseased beef.

Outside of that, my interest
is that of any other citizen

trying to protect the
health of a community.

I appreciate your solicitude,

but I think you're becoming
unnecessarily concerned.

The herd is sound,

and we'll be shipping them
for market within the hour.

So if you'll just excuse me...

You don't want to
believe me, do you?

Now, you listen
to me, young man!

No, you listen to me.

Teller's selling you
those cattle dirt cheap,

so you can make a huge
profit on a normal market.

You're upset with me because
I told you they're diseased.

You'd just as soon not know
so you could sleep at night.

That's a strong
accusation, Mr. Hardie.

You bust in here

making some wild
statements about sick cattle

and not one shred of
proof to back you up!

I sent for a
government inspector.

If his findings bear me out,

then I'll testify in a court

that you sent those
cattle to market

knowing they were diseased.

Now, why don't we calm down

and wait for that
inspector to get here?

See what his
findings have to say.

One more day couldn't
possibly make any difference,

could it, Mr. Teller?

Why... why...

Yes, of course. That
sounds fair enough.

After all, I can't
afford to do anything

that might jeopardize my
standing in the community.

A standing, I might add,
that's taken me years

of honest toil to build.

Oh, shut up!

The big, honest banker.

You know something, Larson?

Your wife was right.
You talk too much.

Just a minute, Teller.

That's armed robbery.

Nothing of the kind.
It's a business deal.

Just as legal, I imagine,
as the ones that made you

an upstanding member
of your community.

We closed the deal.

You got the cattle.
I'm taking my money.

If the herd's sick, I'm
right sorry to hear about it,

but that's your problem now.

They're sick, all right.

That's why he's in such a
hurry to close that deal today,

before they start dropping dead

in the pens like
they did on his ranch.

That's one fact, Hardie,

you ain't gonna
be able to prove.

I went out and dug up the
cow you buried yesterday,

and I took the
trouble to skin her out.

There's your proof!

Never mind, folks!
Wait outside in the bank.

Keep them out there! Go on!

That hide...

Was it really? No.

But he thought it was.
That's the important thing.

Mr. Hardie, I'm sorry if I...

You'd have been
a whole lot sorrier

if that beef would have
ever reached the market.

Yes, of course.

That's not the
important thing now.

There's a lot of work to
be done and you can help.

You go out and round up
every doctor in this area.

Bring 'em in here and have
them examine all the people

that had anything
to do with that herd.

I'll be glad to.

I'm going to ride
out to the Circle L

and send that bunch
of cowboys in here.

Is that all?

I wish it was.

I've got to go on
back to Canduff

and tell a woman that
she's now a widow.

JIM: The government inspector

confirmed the
suspicions of anthrax,

and the herd was destroyed.

The Red River Valley
once again became a safe

and a healthy place to live.

I don't mind confessing, though,

I spent an anxious few weeks

waiting for the
staggers to hit me.