Petticoat Junction (1963–1970): Season 2, Episode 4 - The Umquaw Strip - full transcript

The Hooterville Express is under threat again from Homer Bedloe. His latest attack involves part of the rail tracks being on Indian land.

Homer Bedloe's on
the warpath again

when he learns
that an Indian tribe

has claim to the land on
which the Cannonball travels.

Honestly, have you ever
seen anybody so dead set

on getting rid of
one little ol' train?

Talk about a one-track mind.

One of the Native
Americans is portrayed

by the great comedic
actor Bernie Kopell,

later seen as KAOS agent
Siegfried on Get Smart,

and then Doc on The Love Boat.

Well, let's find out if
Homer can bury the hatchet



in an episode called
"The Umquaw Strip."

(train whistle blows)

♪ Come ride the little train ♪

♪ That is rollin' down the
tracks to the Junction ♪

(bell clanging)

♪ Forget about your cares ♪

♪ It is time to relax
at the Junction ♪

(whistle blows twice)

♪ Lots of curves, you bet ♪

♪ And even more when you get ♪

♪ To the Junction ♪

♪ Petticoat Junction ♪

(snare drum plays train rhythm)

♪ There's a little hotel called
the Shady Rest at the Junction ♪



♪ Petticoat Junction ♪

♪ It is run by Kate, come and
be her guest at the Junction ♪

♪ Petticoat Junction ♪

♪ And that's Uncle Joe,
he's a-movin' kinda slow ♪

♪ At the Junction ♪

♪ Petticoat Junction! ♪

(train whistle blows)

Billie Jo, would
you stand up straight

so I can get this hem even?

Mom, don't you think
it's a little too long?

They're wearing them
much higher this year.

One year they're
wearing them higher,

and the next year they're
wearing them lower.

I leave mine the same way.

Every other season I'm in style.

Saves wear and
tear on the material.

You know, it's mighty
quiet down in the lobby.

Yeah, I noticed that, too.

Strange. Usually, when Uncle
Joe, Sam, Charley and Floyd

get together for poker,

you can hear Uncle
Joe arguing and hollering

all over the hotel.

Well, maybe Uncle Joe's winning.

No, then the other
three'd be hollering.

Wonder what's
going on down there.

Now, Sam, as chief
of the Umquaws,

you sign the treaty first.

Then can we play poker?

Sign the treaty.

Well, there's
nothing writ on here.

That don't matter.
It's just a reenactment.

Well, I like to know
what I'm signing.

Sign it.

And hold your
tomahawk up higher.

Now pass the treaty to
Charley and he signs it.

Do I sign my own name?

No, you're supposed
to be Delbert Baldwin,

the first president of
the C. & F.W. Railroad.

While he's signing it,
you light the pipe of peace.

Don't put the tomahawk down!

But I need both
hands to light the pipe!

How do you spell "Baldwin"?

B-A-L-D-W-I-N.

This thing won't work, Joe.

Can't I use a match?

The Indians didn't
have no matches.

Well, they didn't have
no ballpoint pens neither.

Okay, for now you
can use the match.

How do you spell "Delbert"?

D-E-... Just sign
it "D. Baldwin."

Ooh, what kind
of tobacco is this?

Smells like burning radish tops.

You know, I think
Delbert's right.

It does smell just...

Will you hold up your tomahawk?

Need more radish
tops for the pipe, Joe?

That does it.

What's that awful smell?

Sam's smoking radish tops.

Sam is smoking ra...?

What's going on here?

Evening, Kate.

Evening, fellas, but what...?

We're rehearsing the reenactment
of the signing of the treaty

between the Umquaw Indians
and the C. & F.W. Railroad.

Treaty? I don't think
I ever heard of it.

Well, it's a matter of
documented historical fact.

The Indians signed
over a piece of land

near Dead Man's Curve

for the right of way
of the Cannonball.

Oh, you mean, you found
it written in a history book.

No, he saw it in
one of those cards

that came packed in the carton

with these plastic
tomahawks he got stuck with.

I didn't get stuck with 'em.

You still got 'em
after three years.

If that ain't stuck, I
don't know stickin'.

The sooner you
fellas learn your parts,

the sooner Kate can
start raki" in the money.

Wait a minute. I don't want to
look a gift horse in the mouth,

but what's all this got to do

with bootin' me into
the upper brackets?

Kate, what are the two things

that all people hunger after?

To see the reenactment
of a historical event,

and to eat fried chicken.

From such simple beginnings

have come your biggest flops.

You realize how many hundreds

of history-hungry folks
are gonna flock here

to see the reenactment?

No. How many? Thousands.

And after they've
seen the reenactment,

they'll be duck soup
for a chicken dinner...

At two and a half a head
with dessert and coffee,

and one of my treaty-signing
tomahawks thrown in.

Do you mind

if I ask one teeny-weeny
little question?

Sure. What is it?

Why was Sam smoking radish tops?

Well...

Kate, if you ain't
gonna be serious

we might as well
forget the whole thing.

That's the first sensible thing
you've said since I got here.

JOE: Hush up.

Kate, I guess the
best way is to show you

what's gonna happen
the day of the ceremony.

Now, the lobby is packed,

the chicken's fryin',

the people are millin' about,

and I hold up both
hands for silence.

Only one making any
noise in here is you.

We'll go ahead with
the reenactment.

Charley here speaks the
lines which I writ for him.

No, it's my turn.

(grunts)

Me great Umquaw chief
of great Umquaw tribe.

Me gathered here
today to welcome you

with upraised... with
upraised tomahawk...

which we give 'em away free

to all who sign up
for chicken dinner

at end of ceremony.

You think it's a good idea

to start the ceremony
with a commercial?

Please, Kate.

Okay, Charley.

I am D. Baldwin,

first president of the
C. & F.W. Railroad.

And I am here
to, uh... Purchase.

To purchase the
land from you Indians,

which we would like to
run over with our train.

Kate, now you'll see
the exact signing of...

Kate?

What happened to Kate?

She turned green
and run in the kitchen.

All right, Chief,
I'm ready to go.

Ah, good, good.

Bedloe,

I don't know of another
man in our organization

who possesses your
unique qualifications.

You're mean, conniving,
relentless, sneaky,

hard-hearted, underhanded
and unscrupulous.

In other words, you
are a first-class fink.

Well, thank you, Chief.

It's nice to know
that I'm appreciated.

But that's why I
don't understand

why you've done this
terrible thing to me.

Why, Chief, why?!

What have I done?

Appointed you to preside

at the annual stockholders
meeting in my absence.

Yes, but holding the meeting
at the Shady Rest Hotel

has shaken my faith in voodoo.

After all those pins

I stuck into my
Kate Bradley doll.

When I first mentioned the idea

I could see your
beady little eyes light up

like a firebug at
a 12-alarm fire.

I could see the wheels grinding

in your crooked little brain...

Picturing how you were going
to bulldoze the stockholders

into voting my
favorite little train,

the Hooterville
Cannonball, out of existence.

Thereby ruining the
lives of everybody

in that happy little valley,

and driving Kate
Bradley into bankruptcy.

I must admit the happy
thought did flit through my mind.

Like a bat through a damp cave.

But it seemed like you
played right into my hands.

After all, if those
stockholders rode

on that liver-shaking
bucket of bolts

to the meeting at
the Shady Rest,

wouldn't take them three
seconds to blackball it into oblivion.

And they would have...

If I hadn't arranged to
hold the meeting after lunch.

After one of Kate Bradley's
famous chicken dinners...

With corn on the
cob, hot biscuits,

home-churned
butter and apple pie...

You couldn't get the Republicans

to vote the Democrats
out of existence.

Or vice versa.

Yeah, well, you better
leave or you'll miss your train.

And I'm sorry I had to
sink to your level, Bedloe.

You sank below my level.

If you don't mind
my saying so, Chief,

you are the sneakiest,
most underhanded,

dirty pool-playing rat
I've ever run up against.

Well, coming from you, Bedloe,

that's like getting
the Nobel Prize.

(whistle blowing)

Sleepin', huh?

This is one time you won't
beat me announcin' the train.

Kate. Yes, Uncle Joe.

I thought you'd like
to know... (barks)

(barking)

I guess the train's in.

Now, what were you gonna say?

Nothin'.

One of these days you and
me is gonna meet head-on.

Guess who's gonna back down?

I wonder what the
Cannonball's doing here.

Floyd and Charley don't
usually make their 2:00 stop here

until 3:10.

What time is it?

1:30.

I don't like it.

I got a premonition of trouble.

(growls and barks)

What's that dog barking at?

From the tone of his bark

it's either a cat or a skunk.

Help! Help! Now get away!

It's a skunk. Bedloe.

Kate, when you get a premonition

you don't fool around.

Where you goin'?

To call off the dog.

What's the hurry?

Why not have lunch first?

Ow!

No!

Get away from me!

Come on, boy.

Mrs. Bradley, that's
a vicious animal. Yes.

But a very good
judge of character.

What dirty, lowdown scheme
brought you here this time, Bedloe?

Nothing, I'm sorry to say.

I'm here to discuss
some legitimate business.

Yeah, well, let's
do it out here.

Save airing out the lobby.

Now, Uncle Joe, don't
make rude remarks

to Mr. Bedloe until
he says his peace.

And then you can
make your rude remarks.

Mrs. Bradley, I am instructed
to make a deal with you

for the Shady Rest Hotel

for the annual C. & F.W.
stockholders meeting.

You'll be required
to... to serve lunch.

Based on previous turnouts, I
should expect about 75 people.

I'm prepared to pay you,
uh, two dollars a person.

Oh, well, if you're
prepared to pay two dollars,

that means you've been
authorized to offer four.

I'll give you
three. Three fifty.

Make it three seventy-five

and I'll throw in a
genuine Indian tomahawk

with every lunch. A what?!

Uncle Joe, I don't think

that Mr. Bedloe's
interested in tomahawks,

unless he's sinkin'
'em in our skulls.

Well he ought to be.

It's his railroad the Indians
signed the treaty with.

Treaty? What treaty?

Yeah, where the Umquaw
gave a hunk of right-of-way

for the Cannonball.

I never heard of
any such treaty.

Well it's a documented
historical fact.

And since your meeting coincides

with the anniversary of
the signing of the treaty,

you ought to make it an
event folks would remember.

Just 'cause you're
stuck with this junk,

don't try to palm it off on me.

Where's everybody get the idea

I got stuck with these?

Mrs. Bradley, my final offer

is three dollars and fifty cents

without the tomahawk.

That comes to
approximately $265.

Mr. Bedloe, knowing you
from past sad experience...

my instincts say pass it up.

Kate... But my bank
account says grab it.

Here's a check from the
company to bind the deal.

It looks all right to me.

Yes, it does.

That's what worries me.

Mrs. Bradley, I am
humiliated to tell you

that I had tried to figure
out some underhanded way

I could turn this transaction
into a catastrophe for you,

but unfortunately I failed.

But you'll keep trying.

Scout's honor, Mrs. Bradley.

Mr. Carson, did you say

that was the Umquaw tribe?

"Bedloe," he said to me, "I
don't know of another man

"in our organization,
who's as mean,

conniving and
underhanded as you are."

Evans, you don't know
what that means to me.

To hear those words
from the lips of our leader.

Now let me have that
report of yours again.

Well, I looked
through the files, sir,

and I found a photostat
of the Umquaw treaty.

The Indians never signed it.

Wait a minute.

That means for the past 65 years

the Cannonball's running on land

still owned by the Umquaws.

I'm afraid so, sir.

Don't look so sad about it.

How much land's involved?

Well, it's a ten-foot strip,

near the section known
as Dead Man's Curve, uh...

right about here.

(gasps)

You know, Evans, if some
sneaky, underhanded individual

was to tell the
Umquaws about this,

they'd probably
want their land back.

That'd be the end
of that antiquated

piece of kindling wood
known as the Shady Rest Hotel.

Mom, do we have to do all these?

Well, of course you do.

They've been
stored away for years.

Well, why don't we
just use paper plates?

Because, at $3.50 apiece,

people are entitled
to eat on good china.

You mean like this one?

Oh, Bobbie Jo,
be careful with that.

Your father got me
that on our honeymoon.

I didn't know you
went to Niagara Falls.

We didn't.

We went to Pixley.

The movie theater there
gave them away on dish night.

They gave away a
different dish every week.

Pikes Peak, Yellowstone
Park, Grand Canyon.

And two of San Francisco:

before it shook and after.

But we only got the one.

Niagara Falls.

Why?

Well, because there was
no point in going every week.

They changed the
dishes, but not the picture.

Oh, Mom, you're
just putting us on.

No, I'm not.

Why, I can remember that picture

like it was yesterday.

The Revenge of the Redskins.

Starring Monte Blue.

Gee, that sounds
like an exciting picture.

Why don't you tell us the
story while you do the dishes?

Well, you see, it was all
about this company that...

Just a second.

You trying to put me on?

You girls wash the dishes.

I got to figure
out what I'm going

to feed those stockholders.

But Mom, I have a date.

With the dishes.

You wash.

You dry.

You stack.

7:00.

You know, it took
more than three hours

to order all this stuff.

Takes a lot of groceries
to feed 75 people.

It was nice of Sam to
stretch our credit for all this.

JOE: You gave him
that deposit check

you got from Bedloe, didn't you?

(laughs) That didn't even
make a dent in the bill.

Uncle Joe, you don't
suppose that Homer Bedloe

cooked up this story
about the stockholders

just so I'd order
all this stuff,

and then be stuck paying for it?

Kate, the deal I negotiated
with Bedloe is foolproof.

Now, the only thing
you've got to worry about

is if you got enough supplies.

That's the least of my worries.

I don't know... do you think

40 chickens is
enough for 75 people?

(chickens clucking)

I ain't heard so much
cackling on this train

since the Ladies Aid Society

had their annual
excursion to Pixley.

Oh, one of the
stockholders' chickens

laid you a dividend.

(playing harmonica)

(harmonica playing discordantly)

(scraping)

(scraping, rumbling)

(chickens clucking)

Floyd!

Floyd!

What the heck happened?

Indians?

Indians?

JOE: Indians?

Of all the ding-danged idiots!

What are you trying to
do, get yourself killed?

Get that tent off the tracks.

We no move.

Now, wait a minute here.

Now, let's talk this over.

Well, what's going on here?

Wait a minute, Kate, you
better let me handle this.

I know the lingo.

How.

How.

I guess he speaks
a different dialect.

You-you fellas sure picked

a mighty dangerous spot
to set up housekeeping.

Yeah, you better
move your tepee.

That's an Indian word.

We no move.

But you're blocking the train.

Iron horse no pass.

You're trespassing.

That wigwam's smack-dab

in the middle of our track.

Track smack-dab on top our land.

This belong Umquaw.

No, it don't.

Don't you fellers ever
read the treaties you sign?

Umquaw never sign treaty.

This land still belong us.

Ungrammatical, but true.

Homer Bedloe!

I told you, Uncle Joe, I
had an uneasy feeling

something was going to go wrong.

Mr. Carson, I owe
you a debt of thanks.

Me? What did I do?

Well, if you hadn't
mentioned the treaty,

I wouldn't have
thought to check our files

and discover that our
good friends still own

this ten-foot strip
of right-of-way.

Well, I didn't mention
it for that reason.

I mentioned it
relative to being stuck

with them tomahawks.

And that isn't all
we're stuck with.

All that food for the
stockholders' meeting.

Corn, flour, 40 chickens.

31... I didn't get the windows

on the coach
closed quick enough.

It won't go to
waste, Mrs. Bradley.

The meeting will still go on

at the Shady Rest Hotel.

You mean they'll let
the train go through?

My dear Mrs.
Bradley, don't you think

we've imposed upon these
patient savages enough

by wrongfully using their
land for all these years?

Why, if they wanted to,
they could probably sue

the railroad for
several million dollars.

Then why don't they?

Because they were
impressed with my honesty

in coming to them and revealing

the treaty was never signed.

They'll be satisfied

as long as they now
have their land back.

Back.

Back up the train, Charley.

Maybe Sam will take
some of the groceries back.

Mrs. Bradley, I told you

the meeting will
go on as scheduled.

Yes, but if the train
only goes this far,

what are the
stockholders gonna do,

walk the 15 miles
to the Shady Rest?

Precisely.

And after that long, dusty hike,

they'll be sitting down picking
at that beautiful luncheon

that you've prepared for
them, hardly able to wait

till they get down to business

and vote the Cannonball
out of existence.

Why, you no good,
sneaking varmint.

I'd rather be called by
the name my Indian friends

have honored me with:
Snake in the Grass.

(steam hissing)

Turn this thing off!

(laughing)

Young brave, have heap
big trouble lightem fire?

Pop, will you stop bugging me

with that phony dialect?

Got a match?

My son, the Indian.

To think that I, Fleeteagle,

the last great Umquaw chief,

could have fathered
such a nudnik.

Why did I let you
get me into this deal?

Pop, it's the only way
Bedloe would give us

the exclusive franchise
to sell Indian souvenirs

in the C. & F.W.'s
railroad station.

Home of Bedloe,
Snake in the Grass.

Hey, wait till I tell
your Uncle Lou

you gave away his name.

Pop, we need that franchise.

We are stuck with the
biggest inventory of...

of Indian souvenirs in...
in the history of the tribe.

Uh, blankets, pottery, jewelry.

If we don't find an outlet,

we're all gonna end up
back on the reservation

doing beadwork.

I don't trust Bedloe.

Pale face speak
with forked tongue.

Pop, how many times
do I have to tell you?

Indians don't talk that way.

And Indians don't act this way.

Listen, son... I grew
up in this valley.

I like the little train.

And I don't like
what we're doing.

Pop, when it comes
to making a buck,

you've got to forget sentiment.

Is this what they taught you

at the Harvard
School of Business?

(rooster crowing)

Oh, Mom, are we gonna
have to get up this early

every morning to
get to school now?

Yes, you are.

And Billie Jo better
stop primping.

You got a long walk

to the county road
to catch the bus.

Won't hurt them.

When I was a boy, I
walked to school every day.

How far?

Across the road.

Mom, looks like that awful
Mr. Bedloe finally won.

Sure looks that way.

Well, I hate to
admit it, but I agree.

Them Indians will be off
the track by noon today.

What makes you think so?

I've got an idea.

Back on your
ten-foot reservation.

We just want to go
to town, buy food.

You want food, you
grow it on your own land.

But... Yeah, you wanted it.

Now you got it.

Stay on it.

What now, man of big business?

They can't stop me
from buying food.

Let me remind
you they have guns.

Well, so have we.

But theirs are not
made out of plastic.

We brought you a snack
from the Hooterville Diner.

Eh, what you got?

Oh, hamburgers,
roast beef sandwiches,

potato salad, boysenberry pie.

And four different
flavors of soda pop.

Mom!

Mom, where are you?

What's the matter?

Uncle Joe is
torturing the Indians.

Oh, well, that's nice.

What?

We just rode down
there on the handcar.

Uncle Joe and Mr. Drucker

and Charley and Floyd
have them surrounded.

They won't let
them off the tracks.

And the poor
Indians are starving.

And Uncle Joe and
Mr. Drucker are standing there

eating hamburgers
right under their noses.

It's the most horrible
thing you ever saw

in your whole life, Mom.

We'll soon put a stop to that.

What are we gonna do?

Tell you what I'm gonna do.

I'm gonna give those
poor men some food.

Kate, you're gonna
spoil everything.

We had them just
about to the point

where they was gonna
let the Cannonball through.

Uncle Joe, you ought to
be ashamed of yourself.

And you, too, Sam Drucker.

Well, we didn't
have no choice, Kate.

The whole future of this
valley is being fought out

right here on these
moth-eaten railroad ties.

Well, there must
be some other way

to settle this than acting
like inhuman beings.

BLACK SALMON: Come on in.

Tent isn't locked.

I brought you some food.

Food...? Food?!

There's plates in there.

I'll eat them later.

Madam, forgive my son.

He really had good manners
before he went to Harvard.

Well, may I fix you a plate?

If you please.

Here we go. (sighs)

Thank you very much.

It is more than we deserve

for all the trouble
we've caused you.

Ma'am, if we don't
cooperate with Bedloe,

the tribe will go
into bankruptcy.

Can I have another chicken leg?

Oh, right there...
good. Thank you.

Where did you get
this plate, Mrs. Bradley?

KATE: Niagara Falls?

Oh, at the Pixley
Theater, years ago.

I got one, too.

Did you see Revenge
of the Redskin?

Five times.

Well, you must have sat
through the whole set of dishes.

(chuckles) Isn't
this a small world?

If I remember correctly,

those were the exact
words that Monte Blue spoke

as he and the government
man rode out into the sunset

at the end of the picture.

Yeah.

I wish this problem
could be settled

as easily as Monte Blue did it.

Yes.

Wait a second!

Why can't it?

Genuine treaty signing
tomahawks right here.

Excuse me. Yes, sir.

How many, sir? Oh, no, thanks.

All I wanted to
say was that I hope

we have our meeting
here every year.

I ain't so sure we want to cater

to another crowd of
non-tomahawk buyers.

"Answer remains the same

"as in last five telegrams.

"Yes, there is such
a law on the books.

Wilson and Price,
Attorneys at Law."

Are you convinced now,

or you want to send
another telegram?

Yes, Mrs. Bradley,
I admit defeat.

The Cannonball
will continue to run.

And, uh, the Umquaws?

They'll get their franchise

to sell the souvenirs
in our station.

Would you mind speaking up?

They'll get their franchise
to sell the souvenirs!

Oh.

And, um, what about
all those tomahawks

that Uncle Joe is stuck with?

Oh, Mrs. Bradley,
enough is enough.

You know, I can't believe
that the government

would send a man
to prison for 15 years

merely because he
tried to coerce the Indians

into doing his dirty work.

Would you care
to put it to a test?

Whoever heard of such a law?

The fellow who wrote The
Revenge of the Redskins.

You see, there was
this big corporation

using the Indians to put
Monte Blue out of business.

So, what he did was...
Oh, please, Mrs. Bradley,

don't make me listen
to that corny plot again.

Where are you going?

Up to my room to sulk.

Oh, Mr. Bedloe...

you forgot the other
part of our bargain.

There they are, Mr. Bedloe.

It's gonna take me a
week to do all those dishes.

Oh, well, you take
your choice, Homer.

A week at the Shady
Rest or 15 years in jail.

All right.

Where's the dishrag?

It's right here.

Ah.

I'll do this one myself.

Why?

(engine chugging)

♪ Petticoat Junction. ♪

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Filmways Presentation.