Rawhide (1959–1965): Season 6, Episode 28 - Incident at Deadhorse: Part II - full transcript

When Wishbone and Mushy realize Hannibal is not safe they try to help. They are brought back tied up while Hannibal is tarred and feathered. Hannibal returns to Deadhorse and the men want to help him against Favor's better judgment.

He's a busy little
fella, ain't he?

Ought to teach
you a lesson, Jake.

Work as hard as he does,
make something of yourself too.

All right, Mr. Wiley.
Stand back if you please.

Oh, move this, change
that, nail here, bend there.

You'd think this work of art was
being made for John Wilkes Booth.

- Is that all right?
- A little to my left.

It should be dead center.

Ah, an inch either way
can't make no difference.

Especially to a sandbag.

Hey, hey, perfect.



I hope to tell you,

I have to lift that once more, my
back and me are gonna part company.

Would stand back,
please? Just a...

That, Mr. Wiley, is the
way a trap should work.

Don't see why the
board prop wouldn't do.

Either way, a man
gets hung just as fast.

Just as dead, Mr. Wiley,
but not just as fast.

To a man with a
noose around his neck,

a second could be a lifetime,
and a minute can be an eternity.

Now, it is our job to make this
execution just as professional,

just as quick, and just
as merciful as possible.

Do I make myself clear?

As clear as it can get.

Then we understand each other.



Now, once I get the
proper specifications,

we can make a few
tests with a rope.

And, uh, make sure that you
secure it directly over that trap.

And, uh, Mr. Wiley,
use a ladder.

We don't want
you to hurt yourself.

Hangman.

The bandage on your head.

My rifle put it there.

Next time, bam! Belt buckle.

Ain't no bandage
made gonna fix that.

Jake, what's the matter with
you, your hearing gone off?

You heard what
Pa said. No trouble.

Leastways, not here in town.

Not no trouble, Mark.
Uh, no shooting trouble.

Mm-hm.

Wishbone, I thought you'd
gone back to the drive.

Huh, I go back without supplies

and those drovers will
put me into the stew.

- Now, Hannibal...
- I know. I know.

I should have told you why I
was coming here, but I didn't.

- I'm sorry.
- No, it isn't that.

It's this fella, Jud
Hammerklein,

and him killing the
fella that shot his son.

Well, this town don't
think he ought to hang.

They're not about to
let you spring that trap.

That's the concern of
the authorities, not mine.

Well, from where I stand,

there don't seem to be an
awful lot of authority around here.

It's an occupational
hazard, you might say.

- I'm used to it.
- Well, I still think...

Don't you worry about
my cloudy sky, Wishbone.

I was born under it.

But it's better, I think,
if you leave just in case.

Sometimes innocent bystanders
are mistaken for friends.

Sheriff, if, uh, you don't mind,
I should like some particulars.

And I know I've done wrong

It's your time. You
start particularing away.

Uh, first, a confirmation.

The, uh, execution will take
place at 3 p.m. tomorrow, correct?

Mm-hm.

And there will be a
doctor in attendance?

I don't know. Dr. Meredith's
out on that Ruiz spread.

You see, Mrs. Ruiz,
she's going on her sixth.

Asa, seventh.

Seventh. You know her,
she always brews up a storm

before she lets Cristobal
pass out them cigars.

Now, the death certificate
will require a signature.

I'll leave that up to you.

The vital statistics,
now, if you will.

Well, let's see, I was born
on a Mississippi flatboat.

My family was always
taken to traveling.

That was in, let me see, 1820.

That'll make me exactly 50.
That's on my next birthday.

I need three facts.
No more, no less.

Oh, yeah, I forgot.

My age, my weight,
and my height.

Sheriff, if you don't mind, I'd
like this information from you.

Hangman, talk to
me. What's the matter?

You afraid I'll haunt
you or something?

All right. I know your age.

That's nice. That
makes us friends.

There's nothing nicer
than being hung by a friend.

Your height?

I stand 6'2", I weigh 230.

Thank you.

Mr. Hangman.

Something else you ain't got
in that little brown book of yours.

The reason why.

He is here and I am here.

Those are the only
reasons that I need to give.

A man that won't
reason is a liar.

A man who can't
reason is a fool.

And a man that's afraid to reason,
I just don't think he's any man at all.

You want the reasons? Fine.

I need your age, to tell me how long it
will be before your heart stops beating.

I need your height

in order to know the position of the
noose above the cervical vertebrae.

And whether to use ten
or 13 wraps in the knot.

I need your weight in order
to know the length of the drop.

Too high, and your head will be
separated from your shoulders.

And too short, and I run the
risk of a long strangulation.

The worst possible type of
execution. It's medieval and barbaric.

So gentleman, call me a fool,
call me a liar, call me nothing at all,

the facts remain the same.

Asa, I could get to dislike that
guy without any trouble at all.

This ought to do it. Two
hundred pounds, at least.

No, that's not enough
weight, Mr. Wiley.

Better add another 50
pounds to make sure.

I still can't see what difference
a little sand is gonna make.

I said 50 pounds, Mr. Wiley.

Yeah, 50 pounds.

This is the last of
it, Mr. Wishbone.

- Well, I don't like it.
- Why not?

The man said the
flour is first rate,

there ain't nothing
but sugar in the sugar.

Put the things in the wagon,
Mushy, I wasn't talking about supplies.

Oh, yes, sir.

It's like a pack of hyenas,
watching and waiting.

He don't stand a chance.

Soon as they get
tired of waiting,

he's gonna be like a
mouse in a box full of cats.

I don't care what he says,
he don't stand a chance.

We gotta do something,
Mr. Wishbone.

Even if he is a
hangman, just ain't right.

Well, we can try. It
won't do much good.

To stop a thing like this before it
gets started takes an awful lot of law.

That's one thing Deadhorse
don't seem to have a lot of.

Asa, why don't you
give up checkers?

Third time in a row
I've skinned you blind.

Jud, it's like a boil.

First you don't notice it,
then it becomes a part of you.

Then the poison
keeps creeping out.

I got an answer for
that. Just cut it out.

You talked to
that little hangman.

You can't buy him off
and he ain't running scared.

Look, Asa, when you
got a stake in something,

like land, cattle,
money, you ain't scared.

You got people working
for you like I have,

they do a job just for
the sake of a few dollars.

- They run scared.
- Maybe, maybe not.

But, Jud, you get
to pushing too hard,

you're gonna find this
right in the middle of it.

Whether I like it or not, this has
gotta be right smack-dab in the middle.

Jud, killing a little card shark
gambler that needed killing is one thing.

But killing a little twisted hangman
that don't need a darn thing...

Asa, who said
anything about killing?

It don't need saying.

Anybody with half
a nose can smell it.

And the stink isn't 20 miles outside
of town under a pile of rocks either.

It's right here, right
outside your door, sheriff.

Nothing's happened and
nothing is going to happen.

Then let's play a little
game of supposing.

Supposing something does happen?

Supposing that overgrown, overfed
mob out there does bust loose?

How are you gonna stop it?

- What do you expect me to do?
- Deputize some men.

Put some rifles between
Hannibal and that mob out there.

All right.

You get the men, I'll
hang the badges on them.

All right, all right.

Look, there's not a man in
this state who'll shoot him,

and you can take
my word for that.

You wanna help, take your little
hangman back where you found him.

Not where we found him, that's
where your boys left him buried alive.

All right, sheriff.

We'll try to get Hannibal out of
this coffin he's making himself.

But then you're gonna
have to finish the job for him.

Come on, Mushy, it's
getting a little stuffy in here.

That boy is a smart aleck.

Excellent, Mr. Wiley.

We now know that this frame
will hold the specified weight.

A few more tests, there
won't be any margin for error.

- Well, he's still at it.
- Busy, busy, busy.

I'm getting tired of
watching him, awful tired.

How about you boys,
you getting tired too?

Well, what you need
is a little exercise.

It's just the thing
before supper.

Uh, just a minute now there.

Well, well. Surprise.

If it ain't our two little
cow-driving friends.

Well, I thought you were
gonna pick up your supplies

and clippity-clop
back to your cows.

We're just on our way.

Hannibal, why don't
you come on with us?

That, uh, stormy sky of
yours is getting a little worse.

As I said, Wishbone,
I was born with it.

- You better go.
- Hannibal.

A time for talking is over.

We got our own way to
make him change his mind.

If you got anything to
do with Mr. Hannibal,

you're gonna have
to step over me.

Now, that is a thought.

- Hey, Rowdy.
- Hmm? Yeah.

- Your stew's a-burning.
- Well, then stir it.

- Can't. I'm a scout.
- Senor Favor.

Yeah, senor, the supply
wagon is coming in.

Hallelujah. Food.

There are riders with them, but I don't
see Senor Wishbone or Senor Mushy.

This the Gil Favor outfit?

That's it.

That wagon belongs
to it along with its riders.

- Where are they?
- Tied up inside.

Well, that's just
about far enough.

Was I you, I'd play tree
and start taking root.

These boys don't miss.

- Now, you heard the boy.
- What's it all about?

A friend of yours. Little
fella with a bent neck.

Now, seems he got lost.
We brought him back to you.

Shame. Looks like he fell
down and got himself a little dirty.

One little man with a bent neck.

Here's some of his garbage.

We put him in a grave
and you dug him up.

That was one mistake.

Now, another mistake was
bringing him to Deadhorse.

And we don't count
past two, Favor.

Now, you just keep
going, don't look back.

And don't leave
any garbage behind.

Get him down.

What happened?

They jumped us,
that's what happened.

Must have been 50 of them.

- Where's Mr. Hannibal?
- He's over in camp.

Poor little fella. He
didn't even fight back.

Took it without a whimper too.

Mushy, get me coal oil,

- lard and rags, lots of it.
- Yes, sir.

Hey Soos, will you get me
another kettle of hot water, please?

- Si, senor.
- Why'd they do it?

There's a man in Deadhorse
supposed to get hung tomorrow.

It isn't come off if the fella that's
supposed to spring the trap isn't there.

- Hannibal?
- Hannibal H. Plew, hangman.

Professional hangman.

Hmm.

All right, all of you,
clear out of here.

Come on, Mushy,
bring that stuff.

Hey Soos, put in on the fire.

Hangman?

Sure those Hammerklein's
mean what they say.

And sure they got
the men to back it up.

That don't make any difference.

Me, I got a lump the side of my
head the size of a six-egg skillet.

Mushy got bounced
around like a ball on a string.

And Hannibal, here, you
can see what they did to him.

Backed Mushy and me up, tied
us down and made us watch him.

They said it'd make us
be careful who we run with.

And they tied him up against his
scaffold and rolled in the tar pot.

Every blessed one of them
had a swipe at him with that tar.

And then they kept at
it, hooping and hollering

like it was some kind of
celebration or something.

It's over and done
with, Wish. Forget it.

Forget it?

What do you want us
to do, go into Deadhorse

and do Hannibal's job for him?

It's just like you said, Wish.
His boys did the tarring.

It's their old man
sitting in that cell.

And I don't know, maybe I'd do
the same thing if it was my dad.

Stand up for your old man, sure.

Walk through a wall if you
had to, but bushwhack a man

that can't defend himself and
then dump boiling tar on him?

Oh, no.

Well, what is it? What do
you want us to do about it?

We'll ride into town, Mr. Favor, and
just bust that town over their heads.

You might as well get to
busting right here and now.

Starting with me.

Well, if it isn't the red brick
courthouse of Deadhorse,

the pride and joy
of law and order.

What happened, sheriff,
you lose your jurisdiction?

Oh, I'm gonna have to have
some coffee to hold that down.

Hot and black.

Hey, you take off that badge,
I'll give you some coffee.

- Pot and all.
- Wish, pour the man some coffee.

Thank you.

You might be Gil Favor?

I'm Asa Tanner, the high
sheriff of Union County.

- How is he?
- Oh, fine.

After being buried alive,
he was parboiled, that's all.

A few burns, a few more
bruises. He'll be all right.

Tried to bring the right
medicine so I brought this.

Whiskey drummer said this
would bring a mummy back to life.

You want some?

Mind if I do?

All right, I didn't like it.

What happened.

I didn't like it either.

Oh, I didn't know you noticed,
being locked up in your office and all.

I noticed, and I also noticed 50
guns out there, give or take a few.

- I only carry one.
- You should've stopped it, sheriff.

You shouldn't
have let it happen.

If I'd have tried, some of
those guns would have went off.

Yeah, maybe you, maybe
the hangman, maybe you,

maybe me, maybe
some old friends of mine,

we'd all be fertilizing
daisies about now.

What for? A hanging that
ain't gonna come off anyway?

A dozen round words said
down in the red brick courthouse,

30 years away from a world that's
just now learning how to read and write?

I ain't saying that hangman's wrong,
and I ain't saying Deadhorse is right.

All I'm saying, it ain't
worth dying for. Uh-uh.

Not for me, maybe not for you.

You leave Deadhorse to
me. I'll take care of them.

But I'm gonna do it my own
way, and that's a promise.

When he comes around, buy
him a drink on the house, will you?

So long.

All right, boys.
That's it for tonight.

We got a lot of miles
to chew come sunup.

Yeah, that ought to hold you.

If it doesn't, I don't know
what will, Wishbone.

I'm not a man
anymore. I'm a bandage.

Oh, you better stay that way
too. Least till those burns heal.

Tar can be a lot
worse than fire.

Yes, well, I'm obliged to
you for the second time.

Whatever you do, don't
go for three, Hannibal.

Wishbone's running
out of medicine.

I'm afraid these aren't
very much, senor,

but I couldn't find anything
else close enough to your size.

To a man, Hey Soos, who
has just taken off a tar overcoat,

sack cloth and ashes would
seem to be the height of fashion.

All right, herd's getting
impatient, let's get rolling.

Come on.

Ah, well, well.

Outside of the bandages, you look
like you're getting back to normal.

Yes, I'm afraid I've turned your
cattle drive into a rolling hospital.

That's all part of the service.

Besides, it gives Wishbone
a chance to experiment.

Uh, Mushy's fixed up a bed
for you in the supply wagon.

You ought to be able to get
used to it after a day or two.

Well, thank you, Mr. Favor,

but I'll have to turn down
your hospitality once more.

See, I'm going
back to Deadhorse.

- Going where?
- Back, Mr. Favor.

I want to, uh, finish my job.

Finish your job?

It's a job that I, uh...

That won't be finished
until after 3:00 this afternoon.

Well, gentleman,
it's not as bad as that.

It's just the bandages that
make it look as bad as it is.

- I'll just manage it fine.
- You'll manage fine.

Hannibal, if you think you're going
back in there to commit suicide,

you got hit harder in the
head than I thought you did.

Yeah, why, Hannibal?

I mean, uh, what's to hanging
a man you never even met,

taking a chance on getting
yourself killed just for nothing?

Nothing?

Rowdy,

to a young man
once named Hannibal,

the town of Deadhorse would
have been just that, nothing.

A quaint name on a frontier map,

a strange and violent little
world in which the light was gray

because the black and
white of right and wrong

and crime and punishment
not only didn't matter,

it didn't exist.

And that young
Hannibal was a doctor.

A very young doctor
with a very young wife

in a very small practice
in a very small town.

This young wife was to
bring forth their firstborn child,

but nature decreed otherwise.

There were complications,

and learned old Dr. McReary,

he, with the carbolic and iodoform
odor of experience in his whiskers,

he preached caution.

But young Dr. Hannibal,
eleven months,

eleven long months out of
medical school, disagreed,

and he decided to take
nature into his own hands.

He performed a Caesarian
operation, gentlemen,

not with knowledge,
but with guesswork.

And the, uh, young wife died.

And so also did his son.

And they called him a
wife killer and a butcher.

And they took him out
behind a warehouse

and they put a rope around his neck
and they pushed him off of platform.

And the law officers
came to take him down,

but not until he had dangled
at the end of that rope forever.

If only he could have died,

but he didn't.

His neck was broken.

A doctor who is no longer a doctor
and a man who was no longer a man

wrote a strange new
chapter in medical history.

After that, there was
nothing left for him,

neither life nor even
death, but only the scaffold.

See, it was on the scaffold that
his existence was suspended,

and therefore, the scaffold was all
that he knew and all that he knows.

You take that away from
him and there's nothing.

And that, gentleman,

is why I have to keep the
appointment in Deadhorse.

Perhaps you were
right, Hey Soos.

Perhaps Henrietta
really is a pale horse.

And perhaps the name of him
who sits on her back really is death.

Until we meet again, gentleman.

Don't say it.
Don't even think it.

- Look, boss...
- I know where you found him.

It doesn't make any difference.

What he is, what's waiting for him
in Deadhorse, that is his business.

If he wants to get himself killed,
that is his business, not ours.

- Ah, Mr. Favor...
- I know how he looked last night

and I heard what the lawman
said, but that's the way he wants it,

and we got a herd to
move, so let's get moving.

Mr. Favor, we can't let...

We can, Mushy, and we will.
Now, use your head, will you?

We're cattlemen,
not avenging angels.

We don't know anything about
what happened in that town.

What do you want
us to do anyways,

go in there and spring
Hannibal's trap ourselves?

- Senor Favor...
- I know, Hey Soos, I know, I know.

Rowdy, turn the herd
in, put four men on circle.

The rest of you
saddle up fresh horses.

I'm afraid it's gonna be a long
ride into Deadhorse and back.

Mr. Wiley, if you must
dismantle the scaffold,

the least you can do
is start with the frame.

Get off. Get off.

Well, it could be worse.

Platform's still intact here.

- Mister...
- Twelve twenty.

A little less than,
uh, three hours.

It's not much time,
but we can make it.

- Make it?
- Rebuild the scaffold, of course.

Three o'clock is the
time set for the hanging,

and 3:00 the hanging
will take place.

Let's get started here.

I told you. It's him,
he's come back.

Crazy fool.

- You stay put, Jud, you hear?
- I hear.

Belt buckle. I
promised him that.

Hangman!

Twice you got told
and twice it didn't take.

The third time is a charm.
- Jake!

I hate to use this on you, boy,

but you better put that six
shooter back where you got it from.

Well, that ain't gonna
stop this, sheriff.

Neither is that badge.

It's going on the
books as a fair try.

I told you I didn't want no
shooting, and I mean that.

Like you said, Asa, no shooting.

Mr. Favor, you shouldn't
be here. None of you.

We're just out for a
little ride, Hannibal.

Yeah, boys needed a change.

What happened, sunny
boy? Did you lose your tar pot?

It was done, Favor.

Dead, gone and forgotten,
and you're digging it up. Why?

To make sure it stays buried, to see
that Hannibal walks away from this.

We'd also like to make sure that
your way of settling this is the only way.

Of course, how it comes
out, that'd be up to you.

Like I say, we're
just out for a ride.

We don't count past two, Favor.

Remember, three
times and you're dead.

Charlie, go get Mark and the
rest of the boys. All of them.

- I mean right now.
- I said it once and I'll say it again.

I ain't gonna let you turn this
town into an old graveyard.

Neither one of you.

Well, just how are you
gonna stop it, sheriff?

Afraid that'll be your problem.

Ours is Hannibal, but we're
gonna be sticking around

until it's solved, both of them.

Mr. Wiley, back to work.

Come on, Jud.

Come on, Jud.

Two-thirty. We got
ourselves a half hour to go.

Suppose Mark and the boys
will be riding in pretty soon.

Uh-huh.

My talking to them ain't
gonna scare them off

any more than that scattergun
scared those cowboys off.

Figures.

Jud,

this ain't Deadhorse against that
little miserable hangman any more.

It ain't me and you and your
kids against that noose out there.

This could mean the
lives of some good men.

Some of them pretty
dear and close to us.

Asa, you show me a way out
of this, I'll listen your ears off.

There's always one.

Grab a hold of that six
shooter and part my hair with it.

Get yourself a horse
and ride him till he drops,

keep running till all this
makes sense once again.

Asa? TANNER: Huh?

You know I never run from
nothing in my whole life.

All right.

There's always a first time.

Jud, this could be your life.

Sheriff, I thought
you'd best know,

some riders are coming
in, about 20 of them.

That'd be Mark.

And you, you'd be
Jud Hammerklein.

Yeah, that's right. Trail boss,
why don't you get out of here

- while you got two arms and two legs?
- Oh, I'd be glad to,

but not without Hannibal.

And I'm afraid Hannibal
ain't gonna leave

until he finishes
what he come to do.

I'm afraid that's
the way it stands.

Well, that puts us right back
smack-dab where we started out.

No, not us, sheriff.
Just Mr. Hammerklein.

Your boys won't back down.

And, Hannibal, well,
he don't know how to.

So that puts it in your lap.

What you did, why you're in
here, that don't much matter now.

Because if you don't all of a
sudden make time stand still,

every gun in this
town is gonna go off.

Right or wrong,
it's gonna go off,

and 10-, 20-, maybe 30
men are gonna go down.

Your men, my men.

There's not much guarantee
that anybody will come out of this.

And why? Who's
right, who's wrong?

If you come up with an answer,
I sure wish you'd let me know.

But you'd better do it fast.

Jud, this is all my doing.

The day you killed
that little gambler,

I should have never
held you for that trial.

No, sir.

I should have killed you
myself, clean and easy.

And this is from a friend.

Stand easy. We're
not here to start trouble.

- Get down off there, Ef.
- Not done yet, Asa.

You don't get on, you might be.

Come on.

Take a hold of the
business end of this.

Took you long enough.

Well, I had to pick
up some extra men.

Charlie said we might need them.

Let's go.

Asa, that Scaffold's
coming down.

And the hangman and his
friends are coming down with it.

Uh, their way or our
way, it don't much matter.

Are you in it or
are you out of it?

Boys, I sat this
out all last night.

I'm tired of sitting
and sweating.

You pull one of those
triggers, I'm gonna pull too.

Oh, that's too bad, Asa. You
were a pretty good sheriff too.

Mark! Jake!

Come down here!

Just a minute, Pa, we got
some business to attend to!

No!

Keep them loose, Charlie.

I'm gonna walk up there and
I want you to walk with me.

You're gonna do what?

I'm gonna walk to him, and
while I'm walking, I'm gonna talk.

You listen. Nothing
else, just listen.

Now, look, remember when your
mom died when the diphtheria hit?

There were no doctors there, no
help. There were just four of us.

You got it first, then
me, and then your Ma.

But she stayed on her feet.

Me, I couldn't help her,

because the fever burned
me right down to the bone.

I couldn't help at all.

You remember she used to give us
a mixture of coal oil and gunpowder

to swab our throats?
I can still taste it.

Pa, there ain't time.

You listen to me right
now. She beat diphtheria.

She beat it right
into the ground.

Not for her, but for us.
And after, there she died.

And I wanna tell you one
thing, that's what she wanted.

This is what she gave us.

And I figure right now it's time that
maybe I gave her something back.

You two boys. That's
what I'm gonna give her.

Pa, if you think we're gonna stand
here and watch you go up there...

Mark, give me your gun, now.

Yours too, Jake.

Jud, you can't go
through with this.

All right, all right.

This is the way it's gonna
be. No guns, no shooting.

The judge says that's for me.

Maybe the tomorrow he
was talking about is here.

And shooting off a lot of guns
ain't gonna change anything

or chase it away.

That's the way I want it.

What I did, I'll
pay for, not you.

Not you cowpunchers out there.

And not him.

That's the way I want it.

The first guy that starts to
lift a gun, I'll kill him myself.

Now, look, I've
done well, fellas.

Better than most.

You do half as well
and I'll be proud of you.

Just remember that, will you?

I take it to be five minutes
before the hour, is that right?

All right, let's get on with
it. I don't wanna hold you up.

Jud, you want me
to read a few words?

Eh, I never needed it before.

There's no reason why
I should have it now.

If you wanna read it to yourself, I
guess it'll serve the same purpose.

Uh, don't fight it.

A few seconds, I promise.

Hangman, don't
worry. I won't haunt you.

You won't have to.

I manage that myself.

"I am the resurrection
and the life,

he who believes in me,
though he dies, shall live.

Whoever believeth
in me shall never die."

All right, sheriff. You
can cut him down now.

And I looked
behold a pale horse,

and his name that sat
on his back was Death.

Head them up.

Move them out.