Barbary Coast

Keep that horn going.

Ten fathoms by the mark, sir.

Hoist your pilot signal lights.

Hoist your pilot signal lights.

Haul down your jibs.

Haul down your jibs.

By the deep eight and a sandy bottom, sir.

- Stand by the anchor.

- Aye, sir. Standing by.

Right ahead, sir.

- I see it. Right over there.

- We're here, boys!

Ahoy!

Be quiet down there.

- Who are you?

- The Flying Cloud.

220 days out of New York...

...and 15 days trying to find

your blasted harbor.

Nobody asked you to come.

You got anything

in this hog-end of the world except fog?

Sure! We've got gold, mountains of gold!

What are our chances?

You're just in time. We're all humpbacked

carrying nuggets around.

- Where are you going, Jerry?

- To the promised land!

Man overboard!

Pilot boat, ahoy!

Man overboard! Please pick him up!

There they are at last, Miss Rutledge.

The will-o'-the-wisp lights of fortune.

San Francisco,

the latest newborn of a great republic.

I see a lot of fog and a few lights.

I like it when life's hidden.

It gives you a chance to imagine nice things.

Nicer than they are.

Listen to them.

Men like to yell, don't they?

They imagine they're millionaires already.

More than that.

They've all left lives behind they didn't like.

They all dream of being reborn

in the new land.

Do they? Or do they dream of gold?

No, Miss Rutledge.

Behind that fog lies

not only sand filled with gold...

...but a new empire for men of vision.

Men of vision! I love the fine names

men give each other...

...to hide their greed

and lust for adventure.

I am amazed at your idealism, Col. Cobb.

Newspaper men are either drunkards

or idealists, Miss Rutledge.

I'm afraid I'm both.

However soiled his hands...

...the journalist goes staggering

through life with the beacon raised.

Beg pardon, but there's not much time

to pay for your clearance papers.

Nobody will be allowed off ship

until they do.

- How much is it?

- $45.

Tell the purser I'll settle

before the ship leaves the port.

Sorry, but there'll be no going ashore

unless it's paid.

Here, young man, you get our luggage

and a boat to take us ashore.

Yes, sir, thank you.

Thank you, Colonel, I...

A paltry sum to unlock the golden gates of

that new empire that lies behind the fog.

Miss Rutledge, you'll pardon an old man

for interfering, but I'd like to help you.

San Francisco is no place

for so fair a flower as yourself.

Thank you for your offer of protection,

Col. Cobb...

...but I don't think I shall need it.

- Are you ready with the anchor?

- Aye, sir.

- Let her go!

- Aye, sir!

We're in, Colonel.

Boat's alongside, sir. This way.

Will you step aside please

and let the lady get in here?

Sufferin' snakes! A white woman!

How much to take us ashore?

- $50 apiece, in advance.

- $50? Why that's outrageous!

This is New Year's Eve, folks,

and them's New Year's Eve prices.

- I know, but...

- Colonel, it'll be paid when we get ashore.

Jumpin' Jehoshaphat! A white woman!

What is the matter, my man, tired?

Tired? Say, I could row from here to China

and back again without even puffin'.

- Then why the delay?

- It's after 10:
00 p.m.

I don't get the significance of your remark.

After 10:
00, the rates go up.

A blackmailer at the gates of El Dorado.

Why, it's preposterous.

Pay or get out.

And the proposition goes for you too, miss.

- We are hardly in a position to walk.

- Try swimming.

But I haven't that much money!

Over you go then, both of you.

Business is business.

- You wouldn't dare!

- I wouldn't dare?

You don't think they call me

"Old Atrocity" for nothin', do you?

If I was to tell you the atrocities

I've committed in my time...

...you'd keel over.

Another thing,

there's a price on my head in every state...

...except in the Californy,

and it ain't organized yet.

Upsy-daisy, over you go, no foolin'.

Wait. Does it mean anything to you

that I came here to marry Dan Morgan?

- Marry Dan Morgan?

- Yes.

The man that made the Homestead Gully strike?

Yes.

Moses in the mountain.

Here comes one.

- Who you got there?

- A new white woman.

You're lyin'!

No, I ain't. She's a New York white

woman. Whiter than a hen's egg.

Be careful with her.

Give her room boys,

she ain't gonna disappear.

- Welcome to San Francisco, miss.

- Thank you, sir.

Happy New Year

to the gentlemen of San Francisco.

On behalf of the assembled multitude,

allow me to wish you likewise.

That's right and many of them.

Thank you. Would someone

please help Col. Cobb up?

I'd swim with my hands tied if you ask it.

Up you come to San Francisco, partner.

Col. Marcus Aurelius Cobb is the name,

gentlemen.

That's fine. Anything we can do for you?

- If you're chilly, have my coat.

- Mine's newer.

- Are you hungry?

- You can have me roasted, boiled or fried.

- Find something better than monkey meat.

- Bella Donna serves the best steaks.

Thank you, gentlemen,

but I came here to meet Mr. Dan Morgan.

Does anyone know where he is?

She's Dan Morgan's fiance.

You came all the way from New York

to marry Dan Morgan?

There seems to be some mystery, gentlemen.

Mr. Morgan wrote me

that if he couldn't meet me...

...somebody'd take me to the Homestead Gully.

I'd like to go there if it isn't too far.

Does anyone know where it is?

You see, miss, Homestead Gully

has been taken off the map.

Would you like a little drink, miss?

Could you tell me where

I could find Mr. Morgan?

Well...

Go on, Jed.

You've been doing all the talking.

I hate to be the first

to break the news, miss, but...

...Mr. Morgan has been

taken off the map likewise.

- He's dead?

- He's deader than a doornail.

- Shut up, you varmint.

- Here, drink this.

How did it happen?

You see, the red come up

13 times straight in a row...

...and the gold mine changed hands.

After which unfortunate incident,

Mr. Morgan sort of...

...had a misunderstanding.

I'm afraid he was a bad loser, miss.

San Francisco is no place for a bad loser...

...especially if you're not so quick

on the draw.

Which he wasn't.

I never seen a man take so long

to pull a gun.

- He got drilled right clean through...

- Shut up or I'II...

Then there's nothing, no...

Miss Rutledge.

Allow me to offer my heartfelt sympathy.

I don't know why I'm crying, Col. Cobb...

...but that's what men expect of women,

isn't it?

- That they should cry?

- You poor child.

It seems my first claim

hasn't panned out so well.

You don't fool me, my dear.

You're hurt. Can't I be of some assistance?

You don't understand, Col. Cobb.

I never loved Dan Morgan.

- But you were going to marry him.

- Yes.

He must have meant something to you.

He meant a million dollars.

Miss Rutledge, I'm shocked!

Why? Because, I'm not pretending

an emotion I don't feel?

You poor dear.

Let me take you back to the ship.

No.

I'm not running away.

I came here to get something

and I'm going to get it.

Yes, but San Francisco

is no place for a woman.

Why not? I'm not afraid.

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