Bonanza (1959–1973): Season 1, Episode 5 - Enter Mark Twain - full transcript

Good morning, Marshal. Morning.

Could you tell me
where I can find

the offices of your newspaper?

Turn at the first street,
about a half a block down.

You can't miss it.

Thank you kindly.

Hey. Can I help you?

Maybe the boy needs a hand.

Oh, the Cartwrights can
take care of themselves.

Sounds like he's
getting the worst of it.

Yeah, sounds like he is.



Looks like somebody in
there is hard to convince.

Say, uh... you are the
marshal here, aren't you?

That's right, stranger.

Well, shouldn't you go
in there and break it up?

I reckon not. People in this
town mind their own business.

Get out of the way.

I'm telling you...

No business in that poker game.

Hoss, I told you
to stay out of it!

Listen, Little Joe. Pa
told me to take care of you

and that's exactly
what I aim to do.

Yeah, well, I can
take care of myself.

Little Joe, you get up
on that pony right now

or else I'm just going
to naturally clobber you.



Who's the big fella?

Oh, him? He's
another Cartwright.

I'm new in Virginia City.

So I noticed.

It's quite a town.

Who are the Cartwrights?

Oh, I reckon you'll find
that out soon enough.

Haven't asked you
who you are, have I?

No, that's right, you haven't.

Maybe you shouldn't
ask so many questions.

Like I said, this
is the kind of town

where folks mind
their own business.

Whoa. Hey, you!

Hold this horse for
me, my good man!

Yes, sir.

I won't be long, my dear.

Mind telling me whose, uh,
horse I'm holding, ma'am?

Well, you haven't been
around Virginia City very long!

Couple of hours, that's all.

Judge Jeremy C. Billington.

Oh, is that so?

The "C" stands for Clarence.

Judge Jeremy
Clarence Billington.

Judge Jeremy
Clarence Billington?

He's the judge
here in Virginia City.

Yes, so I've noticed.

I'm his wife.

The judge says I'm a big
help to him in his career.

Oh, I can see that
for myself, ma'am.

"Virginia City Superior
Court Judge's many friends

"in Virginia City have prevai...

"have prevailed upon
him to again seek office

in the coming election as
Judge of the Superior Court."

Hmm... Very nice.

There you are, my good man.

Oh, thank you, sir. Thank you.

Minnie, how many times
have I spoken to you

about talking to strange men?

Oh, I wasn't talking to him.

He was talking to me.

Ya!

If you're... If you're
trying to sell shares

in your diggings, Old
Timer, I'm not interested.

Well, as a matter of
fact, you're looking at

the most unsuccessful prospector

that ever blistered his
hands on a pick handle.

Then what brings you
to a newspaper office?

Your letter offering me a job.

What's your name, friend?

Sam Clemens.

Sam Clemens!

I figured as long as I was
starving, I might as well do it

sitting on my backside at a
job I know something about.

You didn't strike it rich, huh?

Good looking press.

No. All I did was
prove how little

an Eastern tenderfoot
knows about mining.

Sam, it's good to see you.

And I think you're
going to like Virginia City.

Well, I've been, uh,
studying some of the people.

How often do you publish?

Every day.

Every day?

In a little one-horse town

2,000 miles west
of the Mississippi?

Sam, the way we see it,

the Mississippi is 2,000
miles east of Virginia City.

Sam, you're looking
at the only Bible

the miners around here
have any time to read.

And what if they can't read?

Then they get someone
who can read it to them.

I like that.

I think I'm going
to like this town.

It's a city. Virginia City.

Virginia City...

A noisy, rough lady
with a lot of pride.

I think I'm going to like her.

Over here!

What are you
doing here, old man?

Just eating my supper.

You mean drinking it, don't you?

You be mighty
careful of that campfire

and as soon as you get through
eating, you clear out of here.

I mean to, mister.

We've got a lot of cattle
here on the Ponderosa.

If that fire got out of
control, we'd be in trouble.

Reckon I know that.

Anyhow, I'm just
passing through.

Well, the next time, you just
go around, you hear? Come on.

High and mighty.

Think I ain't got no sense.

Telling me to put out a fire.

Them Cartwrights will get
their comeuppance someday.

Must be the spirit of some
Indian come back to earth.

Come on, Mule.

Let's get out of here.

Things aren't always just what
they seem in this town, Sam.

I'm learning fast!

The Cartwrights like to fight.

Judge Billington's word is law,

and his wife...

Say, where did she
come from, anyway?

She was in the chorus
of a traveling girlie show.

Oh, that figures.

You know, I, uh... I might
write a series of articles

on the colorful
citizens of Virginia City.

Which would land you
in jail, or up on Boot Hill.

Let's get back to the paper.

Right.

Quite a lot of
characters you got here.

What kind of things
they like to read?

Oh, anything, as long
as you keep it humorous.

These men see death and
disaster in the mines every day.

They want to read something
that will make them laugh.

And make them forget
that maybe tomorrow

they'll be dead
or broke or both.

That's right.

Well, it's about time
you fellas got home.

What's new in town?

Dead as a tomb, Pa.

Yeah. Nothing happening.

Yeah? Hey.

Bunch of men
camped in High Valley.

What are they doing there?

I don't know. Let's find out.

All right. Come on, let's go.

All right, hurry it up.

There they come!

Get that stuff in
the wagon quick.

Now, what are you
men doing here?

Wait a minute, Cartwright.

We don't want any trouble.

You're trespassing on
private property, Mister.

Well, you fellows own
so much land around here,

it's kind of hard to figure
where your property ends

and the rest of
the world begins.

Well, if you have any
trouble figuring it, Mister,

we'll be happy to oblige you.

Oh, we're pulling out.

Yeah, what were you
doing here in the first place?

Doing a little sightseeing.

Thought one day you might
want to sell off some of this land.

What have you got in the wagon?

Just some prospecting equipment.

Oh, let's not hold
them up, boys.

The man said they
were moving on.

The next time you,
uh... you want to know

where the rest of the world
begins, you might try asking.

Mount up.

All right.

Ho.

Hey, wait a minute.

What is it?

Looks like some kind
of surveying equipment.

Looks like them guys is lying

when they said something
about buying some land.

No, they're interested
in land, all right.

I just don't think

they're interested
in buying any of it.

Uh, drinks are
two bits, old-timer.

Oh. Half a drink, maybe?

I can't recommend
it, but help yourself.

Oh! Oh, thank you.

That's mighty sociable
of you, stranger.

Mighty sociable.

I, uh... I don't know you, do I?

Nope.

Then how come you...?

Oh, let's just say that today

I'm filled with the milk
of human kindness.

Oh.

That don't taste much like milk.

Or human kindness, either.

I sure needed that one.

Covered a lot of
territory today, huh?

Oh, all the way from Ponderosa.

Ponderosa?

I didn't know the Cartwrights
allowed prospecting.

Well, they don't.

They run me off at high noon.

But they'll get
their comeuppance.

I never saw a spirit
dogging a place yet

that trouble didn't bust out.

A what?

A spirit.

This one lives in my trees.

It, uh... it come
out and watched me

all the time I was
fixing to leave.

Uh, who watched you?

The-the spirit.

And, uh, what did
the spirit look like?

Oh. Oh, it was, uh...
It was big and black

and active as two
tomcats on a back fence.

How big?

Well, could have been
about ten foot, maybe.

Uh-huh. Maybe even more?

Oh, could have been
15 or 20 foot, maybe.

And wild, huh?

Oh, wildest thing you ever saw.

Wilder than a Washoe zephyr!

It flit from tree to tree

with a manzanita
bush in each hand

and a waggin'
tongue in its mouth.

Hmm.

20 feet tall.

That's what I call
a man-sized spirit.

"Reported to be 20 feet tall

"and covered with
long, black hair,

"the Wild Man is said
to flit from tree to tree,

"carrying off cattle
and picking his teeth

with a wagging tongue."

By all that's wonderful,
whatever inspired this?

Well, you said your
readers liked a few laughs.

Just so no one
questions your sources.

Well, I admit it's
secondhand reporting,

but my source
was pretty reliable.

That is, until he had a
couple of drinks under his belt.

And then he, uh,
tended to exaggerate.

Well, it's plain enough to
see what they were up to.

You follow High Valley,
bridge the Truckee

and drop down the west slope.

A natural route
for cutting a road

right through our property.

A road or a railroad.

They intended to sneak
in, make their survey

and sneak out before
anybody ever saw them.

The question is,
why and for whom.

Ah... Come quick! Come quick!

Too many people! No, Hop Sing.

People everywhere!
All over Ponderosa!

Hop Sing, you got
a bigger imagination

than... LITTLE JOE: Hey, Pa!

Hey, Pa, you and
Adam better get out here!

There's people
all over the place.

They've come to
see the Wild Man.

Wh-What Wild Man?

Look, right here
in the Enterprise.

"Wild Man of Washoe
Loose on Ponde..."

Now, what fool would put a
thing like that in the paper?!

Well, there's the name of
the man who wrote it... "Josh."

Sam, take a look
at this telegram.

The San Francisco Bugle:
"Confirm Wild Man Story.

Flooded with inquiries."

Big city newspaper, too.

Uh, which one of
you fellows is Josh?

Oh, that's sort of
a pen name I use.

Uh, did you, uh, write this?

The Wild Man story?

Yeah, sure, I did. How'd
you like it, Mister, uh...

I'm sorry, I didn't
get your name.

Cartwright, Adam Cartwright.

Oh, I'm Sam Clemens.

I haven't been in
Virginia City very long.

And I'm afraid you're
not gonna be around

very much longer, Mr. Clemens.

You see, this little, uh,
contribution to literature

brought 500 people tramping

across the Ponderosa
this morning.

As many as that? Yes.

They, uh, ruined a field of hay

and scared the wits
out of a herd of cows.

We had to rescue four of
them out of the duck pond.

And my people are still trying
to round up the rest of them.

Well, it was just a bit of
sagebrush humor. We...

We had no idea folks
would take it seriously.

Yes, well, I want a retraction

of the, uh, Wild Man Story to
keep these fools off our land.

Oh, I'm afraid that's kind
of hard to do, Mr. Cartwright.

You see, I got the story
from a very reliable source.

Then you leave me no choice.

I presume you know
how to handle a gun?

Oh, now, hold on, Mr. Cart...

Uh, I haven't got any gun.

Well, maybe you're pretty
good with your fists, huh?

Why, sure!

When I was, uh,
steamboating on the Mississippi,

a fellow didn't
like me very much.

We had quite a fight
until I tripped over a rope.

Course, he outweighed
me by about five pounds.

Uh, come to think of it, uh,

I sort of hate to mess up
these new clothes I just bought.

Couldn't we, uh, settle
this a little more peaceably?

Are you trying to
make a fool out of me?

Now, I want that retraction
in tomorrow's newspaper.

Well, you're making
this a little difficult.

You see, the Enterprise

never apologizes
for stories it prints.

It's, uh, kind of a policy.

I see.

Well, maybe I can
help change that policy.

Now, you understand
about that retraction?

Y-You'll get your,
uh, you'll get your

retraction,
Mr. Cartwright. Thank you.

You all right, Sam?

Whoo!

I kind of like
those Cartwrights.

You, in there!

That's a box canyon!

There's no way out!

Get down from there!

Hey, Pa!

Hey, Pa, here comes Adam.

Got somebody across his horse.

Maybe it's that Josh fellow.

Who've you got there?

Found this boy
roaming the hills.

Is he all right? He's all right.

Take him to the wash house,
let Hop Sing wash him up.

C'mon. C'mon, boy.

Seems to me this Josh fellow
had you buffaloed, Adam.

Well, what are you gonna
do when a man won't fight?

What kind of a man
is he, a coward?

I don't know.

Anyway, he promised
to print a retraction.

Well, I certainly hope he does.

We don't want some fool
reporter printing stories

that'll send more
people out here.

It's hard enough as it is

to keep an eye
out for strangers.

Now, listen, boys, I
want you to be careful.

Don't ride out by
yourselves anymore.

If someone is going to
pull a land grab on us,

they can't hide their
hand much longer.

Hop Sing quit!

Too much foolishment!

What's the matter with you?

Work hard, make a
fine supper, wash dish,

no time for foolishment!

Now, just settle down, Hop Sing.

We got enough trouble
around here already.

You got trouble?

Hop Sing got the foolishment!

Give boy, you say
wash up clean...

Boy? Ain't no boy around here.

Oh, Adam found some
lad wandering around.

So, what'd you do
with him, Hop Sing?

Him no boy.

Him girl!

What?!

You go look, see, please!

Well, Adam, if you don't
know a boy from a girl...

Shut up!

Where is he, I mean, she?

Still in the wash house.

Well, bring her in here!

No can do, Boss.

Burn up clothes.
All very bad shape.

You know, I think I'd better
see what I can do about this.

Maybe you just better
stay right where you are.

Good luck, Adam!

You, in there!

Put this on and come on out.

I tell you I found
him... Her... in the brush

and that's all I know.

Yeah, well, you should've
asked me, Adam.

I could've told
you it was a girl.

What are we gonna
to do with her?

Well, we'll get rid of her.

This way, Missy.

Hello.

Won't you sit down?

What's your name, child?

Why did you run away from me?

Ain't you got no
folks, no relatives?

Perhaps, perhaps you'd
rather not talk until morning.

No.

I think you're friends.

My name is Rosemary Lawson.

My father and I
left San Francisco

to come to Virginia
City by wagon.

My father was a school teacher.

But he wanted
to look for silver.

We didn't have any trouble
until we got into the mountains.

Then, one night,

we were camped
near the Truckee River.

It was very beautiful there...

and we were very happy.

We sat by the fire and

Daddy sang some old songs to me.

Then I went to bed in the wagon.

Later, I was awakened
by pistol shots.

I looked out and there
were strange men in camp.

They'd killed my father!

Um, I think you've, uh,

you've talked enough
for tonight, Rosemary.

Hop Sing, see that you
get some hot food and, uh,

prepare that room at
the end of the bunkhouse.

You rest well.

Remember that filly colt

we found in the upper
pasture last spring...

after some skunk of a
hunter killed its mammy?

Yeah, I remember.

She was scared to death, too.

Took us all day
long to run her down.

They did more to
her than kill her father.

♪ ♪

All right, who are you and
what are you doing here?

I'm Dr. Ephriam Lovejoy.

I represent, sir, a group
of distinguished scientists.

Scientists... Adam,
what's in that wagon?

Some kind of steel hooks.

Grappling hooks.

I'm going to fish for
the body in the lake.

The body?

What are you talking about?

Well, the body of the
Wild Man, of course.

Didn't you read about it in
the Territorial Enterprise?

I expect to get off
an immediate report

to my scientific group.

What does it say, Pa?

"The Wild Man of Washoe is dead.

"His body having been consigned
to the waters of Lake Tahoe,

"it will now sink to a depth of
200 feet, where it will remain

"motionless, encased
in a block of ice,

"while the pressure
encountered reduces it

to the stature of a child."

I thought they was
gonna print a retraction.

Yeah, some retraction
you've got, Adam.

Surely, gentlemen,
for scientific reasons...

That article was written

by a lying newspaper
reporter named Josh.

Now, head that buggy back
towards Virginia City and fast!

And put out the fire!

Well, Adam, it looks like
you got your retraction.

Josh killed off the Wild Man.

Well, the next time I'm in town,

I think I'll pay this
Josh fellow a little visit.

And I tell you, my friends,

that never in the
history of Virginia City

has there been a greater need

for a guardian of the
rights of the working man.

Right.

The miners who are putting the
name Virginia City on the map.

And those rights
will be guarded.

Now then, gentlemen,
step up to the bar.

The drinks are on me.

Drink up, boys.

It's on the judge.

Yes, sir.

There's two ways of
winning an election.

One's by going around
making speeches.

And the other's by sitting
still and making friends.

Friend, here's mud in your eye.

Well, I remember you.

And I remember
you, Mrs. Billington.

Friend, see you on election day.

I, uh, didn't invite
you to sit down.

Thank you anyway.

Your very good health, ma'am.

And to the election
of Jeremy C. Billington.

You didn't come
here to buy my vote.

Well, he's the
best man, isn't he?

And what I always say...
Let the best man win.

Don't you worry about it.

My husband always wins.

You know, Mrs. Billington,

it's a funny thing
about elections

and contests of any kind.

You never really know
how they're gonna work out.

Now, back a couple of
months ago, I was in California.

Place called Calaveras County.

And the folks there seemed
to think that they wanted

to hold a sort of a-a little,
uh... frog-jumping contest?

Yeah, I heard about it.

You're the fellow
thinks up all that junk.

Signs himself Josh.

Well, I, uh, wouldn't
exactly call it junk, ma'am.

All right. What
would you call it?

Well, uh, I'd call it some,
uh, pretty fancy writing.

Take my word
for it... it's junk.

Well, maybe
you're right at that.

Smart fellow like
you shouldn't ought

to be wasting his time writing,

or any other kind
of silly stuff like that.

Well, uh, what
should I ought to do?

You see, I tried prospecting.

I couldn't make a dime.

Prospecting.

That's almost as bad as writing.

There's a lot better
ways of making a pile

than going out in
the hills digging for it.

Yes, I guess there are.

Now, you take politics.

There's a big
future in politics.

Well, there... there has
been one for the last, uh...

5,000 years.

No, I mean, right
here, in Nevada.

Fellow like you could
go places in Nevada.

Well, you see, there
are a few places

I'd rather see first.

Oh, what kind of
places you talking about?

Oh, uh, London, Paris, Rome.

You see, uh, when
you're from Missouri,

you've got to get out and
take a good look at the world.

Well, whatever for?

Oh, to understand
your own home town,

the friends you had
when you were a child,

sailing down the
Mississippi on a raft, and...

Oh, you know, all
kinds of junk like that.

Believe me, you won't make
a dime doing that, either.

The money's out here in Nevada.

Like, uh, when you
get elected judge?

What's wrong with
being elected judge?

Oh, nothing, except
the way it's done.

You may be able to
buy some votes with this,

but, uh, you won't be able

to buy what we print
in the Enterprise.

One way or another, my
husband's going to be elected judge.

Isn't that, uh, sort
of up to the voters?

Well, I'll, uh, see you
on election day, ma'am.

Oh, and just for the
record, Mrs. Billington,

I may never make a
dime writing all that junk,

but, uh, here's one vote
that's sort of hard to buy.

And I like to pay
for my own drinks.

Sam, I need a
filler for page three.

You know, something
short and snappy.

Yeah, I know.

Give 'em a few laughs, huh?

What's eating you?

Oh, I don't know, Bill.

I guess I'm
getting a little tired

of writing sagebrush humor.

But you write this
kind of stuff so well.

Well, that's just
it... It's-it's stuff.

I like humorous writing,

but I like to say
something along with it.

You make the miners laugh.

That's the important thing.

It is?

How about making them
think for a change, huh?

About what?

Well, the election,
for instance.

About the Right Honorable
Jeremy C. Billington.

I don't think anybody
in Virginia City knows

there's another man
running for judge.

Well, there's Henry
Walker, of course.

He runs against
Jeremy every time

and always loses.

People are getting pretty used

to electing Billington
judge, aren't they?

Yes, I guess by now they are.

Then why is he
spending so much money

on his campaign this time, hmm?

Now that you mention
it, it is kind of unusual.

Yeah. So are those Paris gowns

that Minnie Billington wears.

Miners are so busy
looking at her low necklines,

they forget who's
paying for them.

Are you afraid the
Enterprise won't print any story

you happen to dig up?

You know, I had a
little bet with myself

that you'd go along with me?

Sam, this is a newspaper,
not a comic strip.

You come up with a story,

and the Enterprise
will print it.

Just as long as I sign it?

Just as long as you sign it.

All right.

Well, let me see, uh...

Let's get out of here.

Ya! Ya!

Just a crease.

He ain't hurt bad.

You'd better have a good
story this time, Mister.

I've got nothing to say.

Well, you better think
of something quick.

Why take it out on me?

The man you want is
back in Virginia City.

Get his horse.

Whoa.

Ah, my dear,

today you are the epitome
of feminine pulchritude.

Don't you talk dirty to
me, Jeremy Billington.

I won't be long, my dear.

You Daniel Lash?

What's the meaning of this?

We'll ask the questions.

Gentlemen, I
wouldn't like to cite you

into my court for threatening.

You, sit down.

We didn't come here
to threaten anyone.

We came here to warn you.

Now, you stay
away from us, Lash.

There'll be no land
grab on the Ponderosa.

Next time your men
start shooting at us,

we won't be bringing
them back to you alive.

What do you think happened?

I, uh, think railroad
stocks took a little drop.

It just doesn't make sense, Pa.

Why would they bypass
the main railroad line

just in order to cut
across the Ponderosa?

25,000 acres of prime timber

and grazing land.

That's reason enough, isn't it?

Why, the railroad people
could grab that much land

just by checkerboarding
a right-of-way

across our property.

Well, by checkerboarding,

they could seal off every
other square mile of land.

That's right.

Yeah, but, Pa, would any court

in the land approve
a right-of-way

that ain't nothing but
a front for a land grab?

Not unless they got to a judge.

Hey, you mean Judge Billington?

I don't think it was
any coincidence at all

that we found the
judge in Lash's office.

I wouldn't put it past
the old scallywag.

Is anything wrong?

Hey, Adam.

Hey, take a look
at what happened

to that little boy you found.

Well!

Well, you sure look
pretty. Thank you.

You know, I don't understand
how I made such a big mistake.

That Hop Sing's a
pretty good outfitter.

Oh, he bought a
lot more than I need.

I don't know how
to thank all of you.

Well... Somebody come here.

Ride up on a mule.

That's all we need.

Another scientific expedition.

Rosemary, let's
find out who this is.

It's that newspaper reporter.

Afternoon.

We, uh... we
printed the retraction

about the Wild Man.

So we noticed.

Uh, would you care to meet him?

Wouldn't that be
a little hard to do?

After all, it was just
something I sort of dreamed up.

Well, Mr. Clemens,

I think you should be
given the opportunity

of meeting the Wild Man.

Here she is.

You mean, she's a...?

That's right, Mr. Clemens.

There's your Wild Man.

20 foot tall with a
manzanita bush in each hand

and a waggin'
tongue in her mouth.

Well, I don't know

what they're
talking about, Miss,

but you're the prettiest
Wild Man I ever did see.

Thank you.

Mr. Clemens, to what
do we owe this visit?

Well, for one thing, I
thought you ought to know

there are warrants
out for your arrest.

Warrants?

Well, I, uh... I think we
ought to talk about this inside.

Rosemary, tell Hop Sing
we'll have a guest for dinner.

Here, I'll take your mule.

Thank you.

Come on.

Mr. Clemens, I
homesteaded the Ponderosa,

fought Indians and
drove off outlaws.

I'm not going to let Lash or
anybody else grab my land.

Well, if the railroad
got a legal right-of-way

and checkerboarded the Ponderosa

with land holdings,
what would you do then?

Fight.

We've got guns,
ammunition, and friends.

You can't fight
the law with guns.

I don't think you have
the proper respect

for guns, Mr. Clemens.

But you'd be surprised
how many people have.

Oh, I got a lot of
respect for guns.

Good balance.

The thing is that sometimes
you get right smack dab

into a fight that you
can't settle with guns.

Or with, uh, fists.

That's right.

Now, if our hunch is
correct, everything depends

on defeating
Billington in the election

so he won't sell
out to the railroad.

Looks to me like we
ought to get started

then before the election.

You can't defeat a
politician with guns,

but you might be
able to with laughter.

You mean, laugh him out of town?

Something like that.

Sometimes the pen is
mightier than the sword.

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

I think I'd have to put
my money on the sword.

Yeah, if I was up
against that crowd, I...

I think I'd count on my guns.

Well, wait a minute, boys.

Sam, if you want to fight
this thing out with your pen,

well, that's up to you.

But we'll be around
with our guns

to help you if you need us.

Fair enough.

You know, I sure
would like to know

how you're gonna go about it.

Just keep reading the
Territorial Enterprise.

"Professor Personal Pronoun

Runs For Office in
Virginia City"... by Josh.

"Jeremy C. Billington,
friend of the miner,

"the mill worker and
the back alley dog,

"spoke at a political
rally last night.

"Most of the speech
was devoted to the nobility

"of Mr. Billington himself.

"An alarming number of sentences

"began with the pronoun 'I',

"which qualifies the
Judge as a professor

"on the subject of
personal pronouns.

"During the discourse, it
was possible for this reporter

"to discover that the
professor is against sin,

gravy on the vest, and
overflowing water closets."

Hey, this fellow Josh
gets right to the seat

of the trouble, don't he?

I guess our friend Josh

knows what he's
doing, after all.

Josh claims Professor
Personal Pronoun will provide

more free air, stronger
zephyrs, taller mine mules.

He's making a fool of you!

That doesn't mean a thing!

I'll beat Henry
Walker by 3,000 votes!

Billington, I've
got too big a hand

in this game to take chances!

No quack newspaper
reporter is going to stand

between me and the Ponderosa.

Doesn't look too bad.

Well, you had enough?

No, Bill.

Billington's got to be beaten

for the good of
everyone in Virginia City.

I think I might just have
the story that'll do it.

Sam?! Sam!

I want to see Judge Billington.

I think the Judge has retired.

That's all right,
he's expecting me.

Who is it?

I'm from Lash's office.

It's about time.

Is it in gold?

Yes, it's gold, all right.

We had to collect it from
one of the gambling places.

That's why I was late.

Well, let me see it.

Let me see it!

"and there she stood,
nightgown torn right off...

"Gold pieces six inches deep

around the prettiest
bare feet in Virginia City."

Wish I could've seen that! Oh!

Uh... "Money may
be the root of all evil,

but a lady without a nightgown
sure takes the curse off it."

Oh! Oh, and how!

"Maybe Mr. Daniel Lash's
foreman has a case pending

"in Professor Personal
Pronoun's Court.

"But if he has,
we're sure this was

just his tribute to
feminine beauty."

Beating up that reporter

didn't stop him from
writing more stories.

Well, there's one
way we can stop him

from ever writing another line.

That might be better all around.

He won't amount to
much as a writer anyway.

I can make sure of that.

Get him out of my
way, permanently.

My friends... My
friends, in this election,

do not allow yourselves to be
tricked by the special interests

spearheaded by a
libelous newspaper

determined to overthrow
the will of the common people.

If I am elected,

we will drive these thieves
of liberty out of Virginia City

and once more, every
man will be a king

and every woman a queen.

With deuces wild?

My friends, my friends!

Get up. My friends!

Try anything and
people get hurt.

My friends, I
believe in fair play.

That's my motto, fair play.

What do you charge
for it, Billington, huh?

My friends, my friends,
do not believe the lies

perpetrated by a man who refuses

to sign his own
name to his articles,

but insists on
being called "Josh."

My friends, my
friends, listen to me!

You've known me all
your lives, my friends.

Oh, shut up.

Your friends, my eye.

Let's get out of here!

Where's Sam Clemens?

He's covering
the political rally.

Aren't you folks taking a big
chance, coming into town?

Apparently not as much of
a chance as Sam Clemens.

We heard he was beaten up.

Didn't stop him,
he's still going strong.

Yeah, but how long
can he keep on taking it?

Come over here!

You need some help.

That must've been quite a rally!

I gotta get this
story on the presses.

All right, now!

Got to get this story out.

Sounds like you started
a riot! What happened?

Read about it in
your next edition.

Adam, Joe, you're next.

Go!

Knock off a fast
proof, will you?

Hey, Josh, I sure am
anxious to read that story.

Josh.

That's what's wrong!

What's wrong?

I knew it all along.

It just wasn't right.

Hey, don't stop writing!

Come on, finish it!

For Pete's sake,
Sam, finish the story!

Come on!

Hoss!

C'mon, go that way.

You know, Joe, when I was a boy

living on the banks
of the Mississippi,

I used to dream about
becoming a river pilot someday.

Well, dream about
it some other time.

Hurry up with that darn story!

Hoss, watch the back door!

Josh, get down!

You'd have to live
on the Mississippi

to know what it's really like.

The way those big old
boats come down the river,

the leadsman standing
out there on the bow,

taking the depth and singing
it out to the pilot on the bridge.

On a summer evening, it,
uh, has the sound of music.

Music?

You don't get that story
finished, the only thing

you're gonna hear
is a funeral march.

I can still hear it.

"Mark four!"

"Mark three!"

"Quarter less three!"

"Half twain!"

"Quarter twain!"

"Mark Twain!"

Joe, I've got it!

You sure almost did
get it, Mr. Clemens.

No, you don't understand.

I mean, I've finally
found my name.

Ain't your name Samuel Clemens?

No, Hoss, I mean my pen name.

Mark Twain.

That means river running clear,

two fathoms of water
beneath the keel.

That's what river men
call real clear sailing.

Everything's pretty clear

around here right
now, Mr. Clemens.

I don't know about
that name, Mark Twain.

Seem to me like I've heard a
lot better names than that before.

You sure that's a
fitting name for a writer?

Well, I don't know, Hoss.

We'll just have
to give it a try.

You got the finish
of that story, Sam?

Everything but the byline.

Sign it... "Mark Twain."

Mark Twain?

Well, it's better than Josh.

What happened to Samuel Clemens?

I guess we've seen the
last of Sam Clemens.

You know something?

I like it.

Mark Twain.

Mark Twain.

Here she is, Sam,
hot off the press.

"Professor Personal Pronoun
Won't be Around Anymore."

By Mark Twain.

That was quite a fight, Sam.

Yeah, I guess you
were right at that,

the pen is mightier
than the sword.

Anytime you wanna
visit Virginia City again,

you just write us
and let us know.

And be sure to sign it "Mark
Twain" so we know who it is.

Bye, Sam! I sure will.

I'll sign it... "Mark Twain."