Maverick (1957–1962): Season 1, Episode 16 - Rage for Vengeance - full transcript

You there, what are you doing?

Hyah!

Hold it. Hold it there.

Finish your drink, mister.
It's a long ride back to town.

I didn't really
believe it was you.

It's me, sheriff.

And if you've had your water, you
can climb aboard your horse now.

Sheriff, I couldn't do that
if my life depended on it.

You think it don't?

It's my leg.

I've been losing more
blood than I thought.



I know. That's
how I trailed you.

Look, I'm gonna have to rest
a while before I can ride again.

It's the only way I'll
ever make it back.

Twenty minutes.

Then you're riding
back to North Span.

Either in your
saddle or across it.

I'm much obliged.

Kind of a clumsy job.

I guess I'll never make
a good bank robber.

Not for the next
20 years, anyhow.

It was my first try at it.

Like to know why I did it?

Not especially.

It's a pretty uncommon story.



Well, you save it for the jury.

I'll make you a bet, sheriff.

Ten dollars even...

My money, not the bank's.

That if I told you the story, I
wouldn't ride back to town at all.

My job is just to
bring you back.

So you save your breath.

I'll change that bet.

You not only wouldn't
take me back...

you wouldn't even
take the money back.

If that's worth $10
to you, go ahead.

Well, to begin with...

10 weeks ago, 10
weeks ago yesterday...

I was down in Denver...

big hotel there...

playing poker.

Thank you.

Why, I'm surprised at
you, Bret. You're no bluffer.

I could be, though.

All I'm lacking is courage
and an honest face.

I don't wanna go through
life the way I am now...

a simple country boy.

I think I'll see you.

Porter. PORTER: Yes, ma'am?

The gentleman in black
broadcloth, is that Mr. Maverick?

There are two Mr. Mavericks
here at the hotel.

The one in there now
is Mr. Bret Maverick.

- Will you give him this, please?
- Certainly, ma'am.

Thank you.

Who's this from, friend?

The lady in the lobby gave it to me.
A tall, blond, good-looking woman.

- A lady in a green dress?
- That's the one.

Are you sure I'm the
one the note is for?

She said particularly,
"Mr. Bret Maverick."

Thank you, Mr. Maverick.

Gentlemen, there are more
important things than getting rich.

Mr. Maverick.

Please, sit down.

I'm so glad you could come.

I'm glad you asked me.

Oh, uh...

Neutral grain spirits, ma'am.

Nourishing and convivial.

I'm afraid there's no need
to be convivial, Mr. Maverick.

I've asked you here
on a business matter.

If you came under a
mistaken impression, I'm sorry.

I'm desolated, Miss.

Mrs. Ross. I'm a widow.

Well, to tell you the truth...

I never indulge in anything
stronger than coffee.

Now, what can I do
for you, Mrs. Ross?

I have a rather strange
request to make of you.

I'm on my way north and I've
come as far as I can by train.

I'm leaving by stagecoach tomorrow
morning for North Span, Montana.

I'd like you to
accompany me on the trip.

That's a long way from Denver.

I'm prepared to pay you $1000.

One thousand dollars for
the pleasure of my company?

Understand me, Mr. Maverick.

The pleasure of your
company doesn't enter into at all.

What I need is your protection.

If you don't mind my
saying so, Mrs. Ross...

you look quite capable
of taking care of yourself.

Lots of people travel
alone these days.

I'm not alone, Mr. Maverick.

- Ma'am?
- I'm taking this with me.

I can take care of myself.

I'm not sure I can take
care of $200,000 in cash.

Do you always carry this
much money around with you?

I've carried it all the
way up from East Texas...

and I intend to carry
it on to Montana.

I see.

If it was my money and I
wanted to get it to Montana...

I'd just ship it.

Let Wells Fargo do the
hauling and the worrying.

There isn't any Wells
Fargo west of Fort Laramie.

That's 300 miles this
side of North Span.

When you need help looking
after your suitcase full of money...

do you always pick a stranger?

You're not quite a stranger.

We have a mutual
friend in Denver.

Mr. Petersen, a lawyer.

He assures me you are
honest, capable and discreet.

Naturally, I'm flattered.

If it interests you, he also
says you're a gentleman.

What was his name again?

Heh. On this
occasion, you would be.

Will you help me?

There'd have to be
one thing understood.

If it's the money I'm protecting,
this suitcase never leaves my sight.

I assure you, Mr. Maverick,
between here and Montana...

this suitcase and you
and I will be inseparable.

For any price, a thousand
miles is a long distance to go.

But that wasn't half the distance
Mrs. Ross kept between me and herself.

Play some cards?

No.

Uh, sister?

Mother.

It's a long way to go when
there's nobody to talk to.

You were talking.

Occasionally, I like to
hear somebody talking back.

I suppose I could carry on a
conversation with the suitcase.

Money talks.

Oh, I'm sorry, I don't
mean to be rude.

It wouldn't feel so lonely if I
even knew your first name.

Your food is
better when it's hot.

Elizabeth is a pretty name.

Heh. I suppose so.

You're not Elizabeth, huh?

Well, let's try some others.

Let's start with A.

Mister...

I've got something to say and I
hope you don't take it unkindly.

What's that, friend?

You got a mighty handsome wife.

Thank you.

Makes this whole part of the
country start to look civilized.

She's a fine little woman.

My name is Maverick, ma'am.
I'm your neighbor across the hall.

I've been wondering how
I could get to know you.

I know you have.

If you're not doing
anything, well...

suppose we leave the baby
somewhere and enjoy the town.

Thank you, but I
am doing something.

Going out with another man?

Staying in, Mr. Maverick...

with a huge tub of
hot, soapy water.

Oh, maybe later then.

The Montana stage doesn't
leave until tomorrow morning.

Mr. Maverick, the way I feel,
I'll probably still be in that tub.

I suppose you
won't be needing me.

If you wanna go out, you
can leave the suitcase with me.

I'll get the suitcase.

Are you sure?

It's a true green, but the red
on the seal is a little brownish.

- Is he saying...?
- It's counterfeit, Mr. Maverick.

Where did you say you got this?

Denver.

I won it in a poker game.

Well, we'll get it to the government
men and they'll... What are you doing?

You shouldn't have done that.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I always wanted to light a
cigar with a hundred dollar bill.

Satisfaction is real,
even if the bill isn't.

She was an uncommon
person, Mrs. Ross.

And in this situation, whatever
it was, she just didn't fit at all.

Carrying around that
much cash is ridiculous.

But when it isn't
even real money...

Mrs. Ross.

Yes?

There's something I
have to ask you about.

You're very persistent,
Mr. Maverick.

I suppose I might as well
tell you and get it over with.

It's Margaret.

- Good evening.
- Good evening.

Mr. Maverick...

and wife.

Mrs. Maverick.

We have a very nice,
big, corner room for you.

The best room in the house.

Yes, well, now...

do you suppose you could rustle
up two nice, big, corner rooms?

Mrs. Maverick keeps
insisting that I snore.

Well, the room that I described to
you is, uh, the only room we have.

The cattle buyers are in town.

If there should be any
cancellation, I'll let you know.

Front.

Where do you usually sleep
when the hotels are full?

In the livery stable.

On a soft bed of fragrant hay.

Well?

When I don't have a fifth of a
million dollars sleeping with me.

And the town isn't full
of drunken cowboys.

I suppose you'll have
to leave the money here.

I'm sure it'd be safe overnight.

If that was the
case, Mrs. Ross...

I could still be in that
card game in Denver.

What do you propose then?

That I sleep in the stable?

No, I suppose I could
borrow two shotguns...

and we could sit up all
night watching each other.

Mr. Maverick, your
humor is beginning to fade.

We could make an extra room,
it'd give us both some privacy.

If one of us wanted to
stay awake and hold it up.

You're thoroughly enjoying
yourself, aren't you, Mr. Maverick?

Mrs. Ross...

I've enjoyed myself more
on the short end of a fistfight...

and your privacy is the last thing on
earth that either of us has to worry about.

I don't understand.

You carry your own privacy...

and it's a lot more
substantial than that silly thing.

That's a strange thing to say.

Strange, Mrs. Ross?

You come along with $200,000 in
cash tucked under your arm and you say:

"If you're not doing anything for
the next 10 minutes, Mr. Maverick...

come along with me and ride on a
stagecoach for a thousand miles."

And this being a sensible,
everyday suggestion...

I say, "Thank you kindly,
Mrs. Ross, I believe I will."

So we ride.

In the morning, we say, "Good morning."
In the evening, we say, "Good night."

And in between, we
don't say anything at all.

I am sorry, Bret.
It's just that...

I haven't tried to pry
into your silly little secret.

I haven't had designs on
either you or your money.

I've been the perfect
little gentleman.

Not too bright, but a gentleman.

May I say something?

If you're sure
you feel up to it.

You sound strange.

You talk like a small, angry boy
who won't say why he's angry.

That's right. I do.

What is bothering you?

Please, Bret, things are
confused enough already.

Successful trip.

We've got the whole
cattle crowd in the bag.

- Fine day.
- Yes, it is.

- Are you going to North Span too?
- That's right.

Oh, I'm sorry. We neglected
to introduce ourselves.

This is my friend
Andrew Wiggins.

My name is John Grimes.

- Bret Maverick.
- It's a pleasure.

Is this your first trip to
Montana, Mrs. Maverick?

Mrs. Ross. Yes, it is.

I have a feeling we've
met before, Mr. Grimes.

That's what I was
supposed to say, Mrs. Ross.

- You're not from Texas, are you?
- Louisiana, New Orleans.

Hope you're planning
to settle in North Span.

I haven't fully decided.

It's a wonderful
country, Montana.

I've heard that it's
excellent farmland.

Farmland?

I'm afraid you've been talking
to the wrong people, Mrs. Ross.

Montana land is too
good to waste on potatoes.

It's grazing land.
Cattle country.

Oh, I'm ashamed to say it,
but I don't know the difference.

Any land that will feed
cattle is cattle land.

- Any land that won't is farmland.
- That's right.

You sound as if you
have a cause, Mr. Grimes.

I suppose I do.

When sheep and sodbusters
move in on good rangeland...

destroys a whole way of life.

I've seen it happen
in parts of Texas.

And I don't wanna see it
happen here in Montana.

Montana is opening up, Mrs.
Ross, but it's gotta start right.

- We'll be a state in two or three years.
- A state? Montana?

The 41st state of the Union.

You're looking at the man
who's gonna be the first governor.

Let me be the first
to congratulate you.

Oh, not me. Mr. Grimes.

Would you like to be the
governor of Montana, Mr. Grimes?

Well, I hadn't thought of it.

But if I were needed, I
suppose I'd have no choice.

I find this very exciting.

I'm impressed, Mr. Grimes.

What would you do as governor?

This is all so
sudden, Mrs. Ross.

You'd have to give
me time to think.

Since this is going to be your
first evening in North Span...

why don't you have
dinner with me?

I promise to have my entire
political platform prepared by then.

That's very kind of you, but
I have a dinner engagement.

Well, perhaps tomorrow then?

Sometime soon.

What a perfectly
lovely landscape.

I can't believe it.

Two miles more and
we'll be in North Span.

Goodbye, stagecoach.

"That's going to destroy
a whole way of life."

Bret Maverick, you
are jealous of that man.

Jealous?

Just because Mr. Grimes' ranch
house was three-stories high...

- Ha, ha.
- Just because the stagecoach...

went 10 miles out of
the way to drop him off?

No, I wish him luck.

If he can win your hand
with all our money in it...

he's bound to be the
governor of the 41st state.

Then I can always come to you
if I need a pardon for anything.

Wouldn't it be simpler just to
make you governor instead?

Don't you like Governor Grimes?

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

You'll be happy to know...

that in a few minutes
you'll be out of a job.

We're gonna get rid of
that extra luggage of yours.

Well, bully for us.

What are we gonna do with it?

The only sensible thing we can do
with that money. Put it in the bank.

Uh...

Of course, in the bank.

Whenever you're ready.

- I'll get my coat.
- And the suitcase.

And now, what references
do you have, Mrs. Ross?

The very best,
Mr. Bradshaw. Money.

Heh. Yeah, you're
absolutely right.

Uh, what sum were you planning
to, as you put it, leave with us?

Two hundred thousand dollars.

I see.

- Did you say 200,000?
- That's correct.

Well, that's a lot of money.

It may take a couple of
weeks for your draft to clear.

But if you need anything
in the meantime...

It's not a draft,
Mr. Bradshaw. It's cash.

Cash?

Mr. Maverick was kind
enough to act as my bodyguard.

Would you mind, Mr. Maverick?

Does something trouble
you, Mr. Bradshaw?

If anything troubled me it
would be my conscience.

I must say, as a banker, if
I had that kind of money...

I'd put it someplace
where it would earn...

more than the 6 percent
interest this bank would pay on it.

I don't want to open an account.

I only want to rent a
strongbox in your safe.

A strongbox?

My dear Mrs. Ross...

you can't lock this kind
of capital up in a box.

Why, it's financial madness.

Banks fail, Mr. Bradshaw.

Boxes don't.

Oh, come now, Mrs. Ross.

These are modern times.

When is the last time you
heard of a bank failing?

The one my late husband used
lost his whole fortune for him.

Something in excess
of half a million dollars.

Mr. Ross literally killed himself
building his estate back up to this.

None of which he ever
entrusted to a bank.

And now, may I
see your strongbox?

Certainly, Mrs. Ross.

Right this way, please.

One thousand dollars.

You've been a
long time earning it.

Counting it, Bret?

No, no. I was
just looking at it.

Are you sure you don't have a
suitcase that I don't know about?

Whatever makes you ask that?

I thought all your hundreds
were the old spread-eagle issue.

These are all new ones
with Mr. Lincoln on the front.

Heh. That's progress.

Thank you for everything, Bret.

I'm sure it's been tedious
and mystifying to you.

Just mystifying.

Our friend in Denver
was right about you.

You're honest, discreet...

and a gentleman.

That last is the
part that hurts.

That was goodbye, Bret.

It couldn't have been goodbye
because I'm not leaving you.

- The stagecoach...
- Can pound calluses on somebody else...

for a while.

I don't want you here, Bret.

I don't want...

complications.

We've got those
already. Both of us.

I don't know what
yours are, Margaret...

but I'm beginning
to understand mine.

What are you
trying to say, Bret?

You hit pretty hard.

- I wasn't even swinging at you.
- I know.

If you'd swung, I
could have ducked.

I'm sorry, Bret.

I'm not in love with you.

You're not?

Who are you in love with?

I'm not in love with anyone.

- I'm not going to be in love with anyone.
- Why not?

Because I can't afford to be.

We'll see.

Well, Mr. Maverick.

Good afternoon, sir.

I was supposed to meet Mrs.
Ross here. Has she turned up yet?

She's come and gone.

Oh, that's a pity.

Well, as long as she
got what she came after.

- Oh, yes.
- She usually does.

Uh, Mr. Maverick,
do you have a minute?

Mr. Maverick, you're an
old friend of Mrs. Ross.

- Well...
- Tell me...

does she seem eccentric to you?

Eccentric? Mrs. Ross?

Well, there's that business of
the strongbox. Now, you saw that.

Leaving 200,000 lying around
doing absolutely nothing.

Women don't think the
way we do, Mr. Bradshaw...

but that isn't always eccentric.

If she's got $200,000
earning no interest at all...

why should she borrow
20,000 at 8 percent?

If she needs 20,000, why
don't she borrow it from herself?

If everybody got into that habit, you'd
soon be out of business, wouldn't you?

And she had a good reason
for wanting the money.

Now, that's neither
here nor there.

Well, all right. Why did
you lend her the money?

Because it will earn
me $1600 a year...

and I don't believe
in strongboxes.

If you think the woman
is irresponsible...

With the collateral
she's got, Mr. Maverick...

the strongbox in there
plus the property itself...

I don't care if she's
a babbling idiot.

When she goes through this 20,000, I
shall be happy to lend her another 20.

Oh, what makes you think
she'll go through this 20?

Because the business
she's buying won't run itself.

What does a woman know
about publishing a newspaper?

- Are you sure?
- Yeah.

The fellow get on the stagecoach,
but I didn't think nothing of it.

He sold the newspaper
and eloped with the money.

What? He sold the paper?

It doesn't belong to
him, it belongs to me.

Could we prove it?

I bought off his
mortgages, handed it to him.

I've been covering his losses. I'm
the owner of The Territorial Times.

He was the owner of
record. Nothing you can do.

Oh, isn't there? I want him taken off
that stagecoach and brought back here.

It's no use. We couldn't prove
you're the real owner of the paper.

Matter of fact, I don't think
we'd want to even if we could.

- Bad politics, huh?
- Dynamite.

You're right.

What do we do now, Mr. Grimes?

Buy the new editor.
Who is the new editor?

Some woman named, uh, "Ross."

The woman in the stagecoach.

In that case, maybe
we can save our money.

You know, from the way she took to me,
I don't think we have to buy her at all.

Gentlemen...

to our new editor.

Hey, son, all right. Give
me one of them, will you?

Let's see how us
mean, old, dirt farmers...

are picking on the poor,
little cattlemen this week, huh?

Three more families of
decent American farmers...

moved out of Sherman
County last week.

Driven from their
homes not by hunger...

nor fatigue, nor the
rigors of climate...

but by the harassments,
the violence...

and the organized economic pressure
of a small, powerful, selfish group of men.

The bully boys of
the cattle clique.

The cattlemen are organized
and they are tireless.

They are determined that Montana
shall raise beef instead of families.

We who would fight
them must organize also...

and must neither
slumber nor sleep...

until we have established that
Montana belongs not to cattle...

but to people.

The Times will identify the leading
members of the cattlemen's cabal.

Each with his background...

and with his particular function
in the plot against the people.

The first of these articles
will appear in our next edition.

We'll see about that.

May I give you some
friendly advice, Mrs. Ross?

I was delighted to learn that you were
gonna settle here and buy the newspaper.

I want you to get
off to the right start.

I want the people of North Span
to like you and admire you as I do.

Please go on, Mr. Grimes.

People will get the idea that
you're attacking the cattle interests...

without really knowing who
they are and what they represent.

I know these
ranchers, Mrs. Ross.

They're good, sound,
substantial people.

What Mr. Grimes is trying to say
is it's smarter to attack the farmer.

I'm not saying that at all.

Mrs. Ross, I merely urge
you to keep an open mind.

My mind is always
open, Mr. Grimes.

- And so are my eyes.
- Good.

Keep an open datebook too.

I'll give Mr. Maverick
here a run for his money.

John Grimes is a charming man...

a ruthless man, a violent man.

His methods before he moved
north and changed his name...

made him the only cattleman
ever to be thrown out of Texas.

Mr. Grimes' participation in
the political history of Texas...

was brief and bloody.

And even today, the most
hardened of Texas beef barons...

cannot remember him
without a shudder of shame.

Untrue. It's vicious.

What are you trying
to do to me? Ruin me?

Just trying to stop
you, Mr. Grimes.

And I will.

You're not going to set up a
cattlemen's kingdom in Montana.

You're not gonna
be governor either.

- And you're going to stop me?
- I'm doing that already.

I know everything about you.

Who you are and
what you are up to.

I know how you fight...

and I know how to fight you.

Enjoy yourself, Mrs.
Ross, it will be a short fight.

You'll never even
know what hit you.

If anything at all hits me, Mr. Grimes,
everyone will know what it was.

If any violence happens...

even to my printing press,
you're the one they'll come for.

Mr. Grimes, you can't turn your
hand without cutting your own throat.

You've got a lot to learn
about me, Mrs. Ross.

Did you get your date?

Margaret?

What's the matter,
little soldier?

Just tired.

You ought to be.

It's hard work sorting wildcats.

You know, if I was gonna feel
sorry for somebody, it'd be Grimes.

He came out of here
bleeding from a dozen wounds.

You two just don't
seem to hit it off, do you?

If you ever wanna give
up this type of work...

I can make an honest
housewife out of you.

Why would you wanna do that?

Can't help myself.

I fell in love with you.

I...

You almost said it, didn't you?

You know, fighting
yourself, you can't win.

I'm gonna walk you home.

It's one way of keeping
you out of trouble.

You like your new house?

I won't ask you in.

Margaret, are you sure you
don't need somebody to talk to?

I can't, Bret.

Thank you for walking me home.

I owe you a favor.

For not paying me off
in counterfeit money.

All right, Bret. Come in.

Then Grimes was right.
You are from Texas.

He and his cattlemen were
burning crops and houses...

and beating people
and killing people.

It was my husband
who stood up to them.

- Was he a farmer?
- No.

A printer, an engraver.

He ran a newspaper
and I helped him.

What happened to him?

Grimes sent his men around, they smashed
the printing presses and the type...

the whole building.

They beat my husband
horribly and left him for dead.

Go on.

I took him to New Orleans.

We spent a year going
from one doctor to another.

Then I brought him home...

a hopeless cripple.

He tried to start up again in a
little print shop but he couldn't.

He was broken in
more than body, Bret.

He died in poverty
and bitterness.

At the very end, he
had an obsession...

a rage for vengeance.

He felt that Grimes could
be fought only with money.

And he had no money...

so he printed his own.

He didn't tell me
until he was dying.

And he made me swear that I wouldn't
let Grimes get away with it ever again.

And the counterfeit money?

I haven't spent a
penny of it. I never will.

But when people think you have
money, they're delighted to lend you more.

That's all there is to it.

Not quite.

What else is there?

Do you love me?

I can't turn aside for anything.

I've done what I had to do.

All right, if I'm gonna have to
stand around and wait for you...

the least I can do
is pitch in and help.

What time do I come
to work in the morning?

- You know who they were?
- No, sir.

- You all right? Did they hurt you?
- I'm not hurt, ma'am.

They threw me in a shed,
rode off with all my papers.

- You were right after all.
- We made extra copies just in case.

This time, you have an
assistant to help you deliver.

- Sir?
- Me.

Bret, please, be careful.

Oh, we will. We won't
lose a single copy.

May I help you?

You've already been a
lot of help to us, Miss Ross.

Folks around here
think mighty high of you.

- That's very kind.
- My name is Miss Effie Walker.

My old man is Jed Walker.
We run a farm up north of town.

I'm happy to meet
you, Mrs. Walker.

My old man knows things
about Mr. John Grimes...

that even you don't
know, Miss Ross.

He worked for Mr. Grimes till
he couldn't stand it no more.

Oh?

He knows things that would put
Mr. Grimes in the penitentiary...

if they ever come out.

But he never said
nothing to nobody...

because he knowed
he'd be killed if he did.

Why do you come to me now?

Jed is bad sick and
he's sinking fast.

He's worried about me not
having nothing when he's gone...

so he thought you might could pay
him something for what he knows.

Of course, I will. Can
you take me to him?

Oh, I'd be scared
to be seen with you.

But I can tell you
how to get there.

You ride out north
past the old bridge...

Every copy delivered and
not a shot fired in anger.

You wanna hire
me permanent, son?

You know where the Walker
Ranch is, north of town?

Walker?

The last Walkers moved away
from here in the early spring.

They went back east.

Mrs. Ross is dead.

Maverick.

Where are you going?

Looking for Grimes.

If you're aiming to gun
anybody down, I won't have it.

Sheriff, half the population in
this town can draw faster than I can.

If there's gonna be a
fight, it will be a fair fight.

Grimes.

Something you wanna
say to me, Mr. Maverick?

That's right.

Margaret Ross is dead.

That's terrible.

I know Mrs. Ross considered
herself my enemy for some reason...

but I thought the world of her.

You killed her...

and didn't even have the
courage to show her your face.

Killed her?

Me, kill Mrs. Ross?

Why, folks, you don't believe
that stuff she put in the newspaper?

You're upset, Mr. Maverick.

We all are.

I said, you killed her.

You're also a liar and a coward.

- So you're forcing a gunfight?
- No.

You're a killer and
a liar and a coward.

You wanna get on your
horse now and leave?

I won't stop you.

She was a good woman, Mrs. Ross.

She saw what had to be done
and she wasn't slow to do it.

You know, sheriff...

it's hard to realize that
this is the same town.

We thought we was whipped
and she showed us we wasn't.

When she went down,
she took them with her.

- I think she knew she would.
- I'll tell you one thing.

Folks around this town are gonna
remember Mrs. Ross for a long time.

It's a memory that will
keep us strong and proud.

Wouldn't have
been right otherwise.

Not to her, nor to the town.

I guess there's worse things
than going to jail for bank robbery.

I'd rather face that
than a bad conscience.

Are you strong
enough to ride now?

I guess so.

You better ride south.

Oh.

Thank you, sheriff.

Don't let the fire go out.

I won't.