The Wild Wild West (1965–1969): Season 3, Episode 2 - The Night of the Firebrand - full transcript

( suspenseful theme playing)

(whooping)

(gunshots)

(yelping, whooping)

(gunshots continue)

(whooping)

Good boy.

Major Jason?

Yes.

James West, sir.

You, uh, were expecting me?



Was I?

The president sent a
letter saying I was coming.

Oh, had he?

Well, what with the Iroquois...

They're getting a little
out of hand lately...

The mail service is a
little less than perfect.

Ah, Crocker! You
blasted butcher!

The letter was in reference

to your report on
Sean O'Reilley.

Well, yes, of course.

Troublesome Mr. O'Reilley

seems bound and determined

to start a nice, explosive
revolution in Canada.

Go on.



The letter raises
the point that...

I'm taking the devil's own time

about collaring
this Mr. O'Reilley.

That's the sense of it, yes.

Well, than, How can I
be expected to collar him

when I don't even
know what he looks like?

Never a description
of the lad to go by.

There is an official
description of him.

"He's 6'1" or 6'2",

a couple hundred pounds,

green-eyed,

mustache,

and he has a scar

on his left cheek.

(gun cocks)

(with Irish accent): Well, now,

how did you tumble to
my little charade, Mr. West?

Thought I was
doing a masterful job

being a complete, hard-bitten

company commander.

Well, when you addressed

your orderly as "Crocker."

Why? That's his name.

A major, a West Pointer,

would have called
him "corporal."

Well, uh...

remind me of that next time.

What else did I do wrong?

No ring.

Whatever a West
Pointer takes off,

he never takes off his ring.

Come on, O'Reilley.

We got a long,

hard ride in front of us.

You too, corporal.

( dramatic theme playing)

(gun cocks)

( suspenseful theme playing)

Corporal Crocker,

come on, get in there, lad!

(grunts)

Very adroit, Mr. West.

Now, you'll never
get past that gate

because Major Jason himself

and his entire garrison

are prisoners in
their own stockade.

You see,

my men control this fort.

Well, we'll let the
major and his boys out.

That will improve my odds.

And now, for my
next performance.

Mr. West, meet
Miss O'Shaugnessy.

Miss O'Shaugnessy.

Move.

( dramatic theme playing)

( dramatic theme playing)

My sincere appreciation

for the use of your uniform.

I'm sorry to have
inconvenienced you,

Major Jason.

All right, lads, let's get
out of those uniforms.

Hurry it up now.

Pierre, can we move out?

This one is ready.

All right, lad.
Take it out of here!

( ominous theme playing)

(horse whinnies)

Well, your horse
got away, Mr. West.

But you and the others remain.

You'll be joining them shortly.

Not in this world, of course,

because unfortunately,

the dynamite will undoubtedly

obliterate every
last one of you.

Any particular reason

for the mass executions?

Two.

To begin with,

we cannot possibly carry away

all of the fort's dynamite.

So why not use the surplus
to good advantage, hmm?

Now, that's one good reason.

And the other?

Oh, yes, the number-two reason.

Obviously, when the
Iroquois hear the explosion,

they'll send their
scouts to investigate.

They'll loot and
pillage, naturally,

and leave behind more
than enough evidence

to receive full blame
for the massacre.

You're concerned
about the blame?

(chuckles)

Well, it does sound
funny, doesn't it?

But you see, after I
have established myself

as leader to the North,

I'll be dealing with
your President Grant

as a statesman,

as an equal,

and that might be difficult

if my real involvement
were known.

That's an excellent plan.

Congratulations.

Oh, no, no, no.

Give credit where credit is due.

Vixen!

Come, lass. I'd like to
introduce you properly.

You remember Mr. West.

Allow me to present

Sheila O'Shaugnessy,

recently searching

for the light of knowledge.

Miss Primwick's
finishing school.

Presently a
student to the world.

Um, Vixen, love,

Mr. West here is
what you might call

a sort of a leading light

of the Secret Service.

Senator O'Shaugnessy's daughter?

The same.

Well, you've got
Washington in an uproar

and your father's
under the impression

that you were kidnapped.

How dull.

Daddy never did have
much of an imagination.

An affliction from which

his daughter does not suffer.

It was Vixen here
who reasoned out

this ingenious use
of the dynamite.

What's life without
a woman's touch?

O'REILLEY: What's death

without a woman's touch?

( ominous theme playing)

The wagons are loaded, monsieur.

We are ready to leave.

All right, have
the men mount up.

Well,

Mr. West, I must
bid you goodbye,

before the Iroquois
make a feast of us all.

Goodbye, Mr. West.

( suspenseful theme playing)

(cheering)

( upbeat theme playing)

(cheering)

( triumphant theme playing)

O'Reilley certainly
should have hear that.

How did he take over the fort?

When the Iroquois
started to raise Cain,

half his men
infiltrated the fort

disguised as refugee settlers.

And yesterday when most
of my men were out on patrol,

they made their move.

My men didn't have a chance.

Major, I didn't know you
had women and children here.

Better evacuate them right away.

With what? O'Reilley
took every horse we had.

No, not every horse.

(whistling)

(horse whinnies)

Whoa.

Whoa.

Thattaboy.

When do you think
the Indians will strike?

Well, the Blackfeet

will hold their big
palaver with the Iroquois

at Jefferson Hill in 48 hours.

Soldier.

They'll unite and move
this way at that time.

That gives me 48 hours

to get those ammunition wagons

back to this fort, doesn't it?

Any idea which direction
O'Reilley will head?

I'm positive north,

probably to meet a man
named Andre Durain.

Durain?

Well, he's in British Columbia.

That's right, major.

I hope to see you in 48 hours.

( dramatic theme playing)

Close the gates.

( ominous theme playing)

Tex!

You and Pinto ride back
and check on Fort Savage.

After that explosion?

Get going!

You are troubled, milord?

My mind is troubled
like a fountain stirred,

and I myself see
not the bottom of it.

Troilus and Cressida.

Yes.

That may apply very aptly

to that so-called
explosion back there.

So-called?

But we all heard it.

Yes, well, we all
heard something,

but was it that rich,

full-bodied disturbance

six kegs of dynamite makes?

(chuckling): I think not.

Perhaps it was...

Perhaps it was what, my love?

A gust of wind may have carried

the full force of the blast

away from us.

Ah, yes, of course, macushla.

You're probably right.

Or was it perhaps,

some hocus-pocus

arranged by a very
resourceful gentleman

to make it sound that way?

( sinister theme playing)

Give me a drink.

I said give me a drink!

I'm bored.

Bored! That's what I am!

You hear me?

This child is bored

right down from

the topknot to his big toes,

and I've got this
here now hankering

to shake things up a mite.

I've seen the elephant,

and I've heard the owl.

I have been every place
that was out of bounds,

and done everything
that was illegal!

Before I was out of
my swaddling clothes,

I killed me every
form of critter

that walks, flies,

crawls, or bites.

He's right back
where he started from.

Bored!

All the way from his topknot

down to his big toes.

(chuckling)

Everybody out, vite!

(chuckling)

Hey,

you are a very mean fellow.

What is your name?

Along with being bored,

I got me a distinct aversion

to pushy-type neighbors

who try to strike
up a friendship.

I can offer you something

better than friendship;

participation in a project

that is guaranteed

to relieve your boredom.

Well, this child is listening.

Although I must say,
you've got the look

of a natural-born exaggerator.

(chuckles)

How's the rest of
your tall tale go?

How would you like to
help me and my associates

take over Canada?

Lock, stock, treasury...

and every barrel and bottle

we can lay our hands upon, huh?

Well, I might just
find a flicker of interest

in that kind of a project.

(chuckling)

My name is Durain.

Name's Bluebeard.

Hey...

You the number-one
man in the deal?

Yes, are you interested?

This child might be,

if it was distinctly understood

that he's the number-two
man of the deal.

Oh, Briscoe here,

he occupies that position.

Unfortunate, isn't it?

Yeah, that could be...

for the old number-two man.

( sinister theme playing)

(chuckling)

To our little project...

and to our new associate.

( dramatic theme playing)

( mysterious theme playing)

(horse whinnies)

( dramatic theme playing)

Well, they ought
to reach the fort

in a few hours.

Now, you boys can do

one of two things.

You can yell for help,

and that might
attract the attention

of a few Indians.

(chuckles)

Or you can work on those ropes,

and in about four or five hours,

you might be free.

Then I suggest

you leave the territory...

for good.

Good luck, boys.

( sinister theme playing)

You know,

one thing my pappy learned me

with a swamp willow switch

when I was just a tad.

Never turn my back

on a one-eyed rattler

unless I was sure

I'd taken the poison

out of his fangs first.

And I'm giving that

one-eyed rattler in back of me

exactly three to put down

his empty gun.

That's one.

Two.

(cocks gun)

(chuckles)

(chuckles)

Durain around?

Who are you?

Clint Hoxie.

O'Reilley sent me.

Oh, I've been expecting you.

Let's go fetch our
friend here a drink.

Sit down.

Well, how do you progress?

Well, for openers,

we knocked off Fort Savage.

What about the weapons?

Coming out of our ears.

We've got two
wagonloads full of rifles

and enough ammunition
to keep them company.

DURAIN: Splendid!

And the fort personnel?

Everything going
according to plan.

Where is O'Reilley now?

Bedding down in French Meadows.

DURAIN: Good.

You've ridden hard.

A day and a half's worth.

You'll find beds upstairs.

I suggest you take a
rest before you return.

Briscoe,

I want you to go to O'Reilley

immediately with a message.

Where is French Meadows?

French Meadows

is just beyond three forks.

It should be this area...

Don't get yourself all tired out

hunting for the place, rattler.

Excuse me for pointing,
number-one man,

but that's French Meadows

right there.

(chuckling)

As I was saying,

I want you to ride to O'Reilley.

Tell him I will meet
him at Beaver Creek

with 2000 men.

Day after tomorrow.

( dramatic theme playing)

(crickets chirping)

All right, come on, lad,

on your feet.

Keep your eyes sharp.

(rustling)

(gun cocks)

Mr. West,

is there no end to
your persistence?

Well...

not if you're a man

of Homeric destiny.

Well, I do hope
this is the last time

I'll have to live through
your destruction.

I find it very unnerving.

O'Reilley...

Your presence has
made a difficult task

even more difficult.

I'm either going
to have to kill you...

Which I could never do...

Or take you with me.

(muffled grunt)

You want to go with
me? I'm flattered.

To make the journey
more pleasant,

I'm just going to apply

a little pressure right here

which will cause
a beautiful sleep.

(moans)

(whispers): I shall
return, my sweet.

( mysterious theme playing)

Hah!

( dramatic theme playing)

All right, boys,
get to your horses!

Come on!

Let's get a move on!

(all shouting)

(screeching)

( dramatic theme playing)

(screeching)

( solemn theme playing)

I had such a lovely dream.

Tell me all about it.

Well, I dreamed
that you and I...

You?

You and your pressure points!

Wait 'till O'Reilley
gets through with you!

You're always throwing
O'Reilley up at me.

What uncommon mood of fate

ever brought you
two together anyway?

A common goal, Mr. West!

And that being?

To remove the stamp of tyranny

from the brow of the masses.

Oh, your heart bleeds
for the downtrodden?

Yes! And the sufferers?

Yes!

Like the men, women,
and children at Fort Savage?

The Indians are experts

at creating suffering.

You're a fraud, Vixen.

Beautiful,

but you're a fraud.

(horses approach)

Mr. West,

I suggest you throw
down your weapon.

O'Reilley,

I suggest you back up.

One shot and this
wagon will go sky-high.

You're bluffing, Mr. West.

Your precious fort
needs that wagon.

You won't destroy it.

O'Reilley, you're bluffing.

You wouldn't jeopardize
Miss O'Shaugnessy.

Take him.

Your lord seems

easily willing

to have you blown up, my love.

Because you give
him no choice, West.

(gun cocks)

Go ahead. Pull the trigger.

But I'll die hating
you, not him.

Oh, come now.

Can't you dislike
him just a little?

His ideals are more important

than mere mortal flesh.

Mr. West,

I am unimpressed
with this charade.

(French accent): Yes,

it grows more tiresome
by the moment.

And who are you?

I am Jacques Beaumont,

personal emissary from Durain.

Your Clint Hoxie

brought us the good
news about Fort Savage.

Glad to have you
with us, Beaumont.

Thank you, monsieur.

And you, monsieur!

You are a coward
and a blackguard!

You are hopelessly outnumbered,

and yet you persist in exposing

this lovely, young lady

to danger.

Show some fortitude, monsieur!

Throw away your gun

and face this like a gentleman.

There.

Now doesn't that

make you feel much better, huh?

Well, since you
put it that way, yes.

Would you like a
blindfold, Mr. West?

A blindfold?

Well, It's customary
at executions.

WEST: Execution?

Has fortitude no
reward, O'Reilley?

Alas, the right time,

the right place.

(gun cocks)

If you will permit me,
Monsieur O'Reilley,

but this is neither
the right time

nor the right place
for an execution.

And what brings you to
that conclusion, Beaumont?

Durain was most concerned

that once the coup
had been achieved,

President Grant
would be unwilling

to recognize our new republic.

And what has that
to do with Mr. West?

Well, it occurs to me

that if Mr. West's body

could be found at the
scene of our first big battle,

why then it could be made
to appear that President Grant

was secretly abetting
our cause, huh?

Would this not serve

to thoroughly antagonize

Queen Victoria?

And if that antagonism

were to break
into open conflict?

Exactly.

Perhaps you have
a point, Beaumont.

Tie Mr. West up.
We'll take him along.

(sniffs)

And how long have you been

with Durain, Monsieur Beaumont?

Oh, not very long.

But then, a love of justice

always forges the
bonds of friendship

very quickly, does it not,

Monsieur O'Reilley?

(chuckles)

Well spoken.

Thank you.

Well,

if you would excuse me,

there is much I can do, huh?

Yes, well, we should
be leaving soon.

We've got a long
day's ride ahead of us.

Fine.

To the cause.

Mademoiselle.

Well, now, have we
decided to drink our breakfast

this morning, my love?

Milord,

would you really
have forced Mr. West

to blow up the wagon last night,

even if it had blown me up too?

(laughing)

Oh, James, James, James.

You're always hanging around.

It's an occupational hazard.

Lately, I seem to get
tied up in my work.

You really should try

to get away from it all.

How were things at the fort?

If we don't get this
wagon out of here,

there won't be a fort.

Why, you...

(whispering): Break, 10 minutes.

Well, now, what have we
here, Monsieur Beaumont?

I caught him looking
at the young lady

in something less than
a gentlemanly fashion.

Fie, fie on thee, Mr. West.

I'm almost tempted myself,

but, really, I find
it much too difficult

working up all that indignation.

( ominous theme playing)

I've been thinking...

About your sins?

Would you have
really blown us up?

What do you think?

If I knew, I wouldn't be asking.

I mean, we could have
been killed together.

I know it's probably
silly and feminine of me

to really let it
matter, but still...

My answer is on my lips.

( romantic theme playing)

Wait a minute!

How did you...?

We're back to pressure points.

N...

(whistling)

Hey, sir!

Could you tell me what kind of

formidable spider that is?

Uh, your friend

seems to have fainted.

Tell me, does he
have these fits often?

( suspenseful theme playing)

Hyah!

Get on your horses!

Hyah! Hyah!

Artie, I've had some experience

in situations like this,

and I've come to the conclusion

that they always
catch up with us

when we're in a
heavily loaded wagon.

Yeah, well, has your experience

given you a solution

to this ageless
problem, Mr. West?

Well, yes it has.

Well, what's that?

If one of us were to
stay back, heroically,

with a few sticks of dynamite,

the other might just
make it to the fort.

That's an admirable suggestion.

You! You!

There you are, Artie.

Thank you.

Hope to see you
at the fort, Artie.

Yeah...

maybe.

Hey!

( dramatic theme playing)

( tense theme playing)

(whooping)

Hyah!

All right, lads, move out.

(gun cocks)

Fire!

(gunshots)

Come on!

Come on!

(whooping)

Glad you could make it.

Thanks.

It would have been pretty
rough with just these things.

( suspenseful theme playing)

(ricochets)

(hammer clicks)

(hammer clicks)

Hold your fire!

( tense theme playing)

( dramatic theme playing)

(screaming)

(whistle blowing)

She walks in beauty

like the night of
cloudless climes,

and starry skies,

and all that's best

of dark and bright

meet in her aspects

and her eyes.

What's that?

Lord Byron.

Why are you reading to me?

Because you'll be
studying it yourself

in a few days.

Why?

Why? Because that's
your punishment.

Somehow, some way
we're going to get you

back into the feminine fold,

and you're going to
leave the fighting to us.

What's that supposed to mean?

That means you're going back

to Miss Primwick's
finishing school.

As a matter of fact,
you'll be studying

this in class in two days.

Back to finishing school?

I can't go back!

Why, I've just tasted life!

I've seen the poor
and the downtrodden.

What about all those
people who need my help?

There are still causes

that need fighters
who aren't afraid

to come to their
aid no matter what...

Do you think we ought
to tell Miss Primwick

where her pressure point is?

Oh, yes, definitely.

Definitely.

( dramatic theme playing)

( upbeat theme playing)