The Carpetbaggers

Every generation has

its modern carpetbaggers,

its adventurers

who gamble everything

to stand head and shoulders

above other men.

Among them could be

a creative giant,

a do-gooder, a tyrant

or a plunderer,

a man who leaves

his personal brand

on everything

and everyone he touches.

I guess in the past generation

it could have been someone

like the fictional and fabulous

Jonas Cord, Jr.--

the best or the worst,

depending on how much

you imagine he might

have hurt you

or how much you believed

he helped you.

The legend of Jonas

spanned almost two decades

and it began

that April morning in the 1920s

in the sky

over the Nevada desert.

There it is, Jonas!

We hit it right on the nose!

Let me take the stick

for a while.

You can't fly.

I've been watching

you. It's simple.

You pull it back and you go up.

You push it forward

and you go down.

Okay, it's yours,

but be careful.

You're gonna kill us!

Get your hands the hell

off that stick, kid!

That felt good.

I'm going to try it again.

Not with me in it.

Well, then get out--

it's my plane.

Look out!

Take her, Joe. Land it.

Hey, Nevada!

Where's your horse?

Still running from

that dive you made.

What the hell is that

pilot trying to prove?

Joe? He's a first-class flyer.

He does have a tendency

to get airsick.

Somebody should take

the plane away from him.

Its not his-- it's mine.

Huh. You can't fly.

I just did.

I might have known it.

All right, what

did the rig cost you?

Nothing. I picked it up

in an all-night poker game

from an unlucky card player

named Buzz Dalton.

Now, he could fly this

through the hole in a doughnut.

You know, your father didn't

like the way you handled it.

My father didn't like the way

God handled the creation.

You scared the pinto beans

out of every Mexican

in the factory.

Nevada, who told the old man

about me and the girl?

The newspapers.

You had a pretty big spread.

Ah, it was a grandstand play.

She didn't want to die.

Came close to it.

Look, the longer we keep

the old man waiting

the more he's like a mule

with a burr under his tail.

Now come on, let's go.

Another ounce ought

to make it about 3:00.

Is that all

you've got to say

after ruining half

a day's production

with another one of

your crazy stunts?

Your message said to get

down here in a hurry.

Not through the roof.

Two more feet and everything

within three miles

of this powder keg

would have vanished.

Yeah. Yeah,

I gave that some thought.

Why the hell didn't you get

out of that hotel room

when McAllister told you?

'Cause the girl

tried to kill herself.

I couldn't leave her alone.

You didn't have

to go to the hospital

and to make a small

story on page ten

into page-one headlines.

Well, it would've read worse

if I tried to hide.

Well, what did you do

that made the girl

want to take her life?

A pretty ordinary thing.

I told her there

wouldn't be any wedding.

And if you had any brains...

Brains?

Right now.

Right now,

sitting in my conference room

there's a pair of vultures

waiting to pick my pockets

for $30,000 or they'll sue

for breach of promise

and who knows what else?

Tell them to go ahead.

Watch the price drop.

This is the fourth

girl in a year

that you've been

in trouble with.

Are you angry or... jealous?

Disgusted.

A son with everything--

name, money, business--

and he runs around

like some homeless moron.

Now, where do you

think you're going?

Back to Los Angeles.

You don't need me

to make up your mind.

You're either going

to pay him off, or you're not.

Besides, I got a date.

What are you trying to prove?

That you're a man?

Well, a man is judged

by what's in his head...

not in his bed.

You dried-up, impotent old man.

You ought to be glad

somebody in this family

still has what it takes.

otherwise, that

so-called wife of yours, Rina,

might think there was something

wrong with all of us Cords.

Jonas?

Jo...

Age 48. Survivors, wife Rina

Marlowe Cord and Jonas Cord, Jr.

Cause of death,

encephalic embolism.

That's medical for

''blood clot on the brain.''

Will you accept it or

do you want an autopsy?

Can you put down heart attack?

I'm afraid I can't do that.

Then keep it confidential.

I'll make the public

announcement my own way.

Its your privilege.

I'll file it

and have my girl

send you copies.

The German contracts.

They're supposed

to be signed tomorrow.

Who's going to do it?

I am.

Denby,

I said I am.

You don't need

McAllister's permission.

Yes, Junior.

And don't you ever

call me Junior again.

Oh. Those people outside.

Give them $5,000, get a release

and kick them out.

Suppose, suppose

they won't take it?

Denby, their mother knows

she sent that girl

to trap me into marriage,

and I can prove it.

Yes, Junior, uh, Jonas.

Give the news

to the factory help.

Tell them they get

the rest of the week off,

a five percent

increase in wages,

and see to it they

attend the funeral to a man.

Got it?

Yes, Jonas.

Five percent increase?

But why?

Because next week

I'm going to ask them

to work 20/ harder.

Yes, Jonas.

Good-bye.

I drew up your father's will.

He held 90/

of the stock in his name

and it's yours.

You'd better get it

probated right away.

Looks like I'm going to need

a personal consultant

and lawyer--

someone like you, Mac.

Full-time.

A hundred thousand a year

to start.

Yes or no?

How do you know you can afford

to pay that kind of money?

You're too smart to

say yes if I can't.

Well...

Now, the first thing

we'll have to do

is call a meeting

of the board of directors

and have you officially elected

president of the company.

lf I own 90/ of the stock,

I just elected myself president.

Make the happy announcement.

Who owns the other 10/?

Well, two-and-a-half

percent each

Rina Cord and Nevada Smith.

Two percent each, Judge Samuel

Haskell and Peter Carmac,

president of the

Industrial Bank of Reno,

and one percent to

your father's secretary,

Eugene Denby.

What's our cash position?

Solvent, but thin.

What do we need

to be solid?

Oh, about $200,000.

What have you done about it?

What makes you think

I've done anything?

You're here. My father wouldn't

call you from Los Angeles

just to settle with

that girl's parents.

He could have done

that himself.

I arranged a loan from

Pioneer National Trust Company

of Los Angeles for $300,000.

Good.

That'll give me enough money

to buy out

the minority stockholders,

not counting Nevada

and Rina, of course.

What's the minority

stock worth?

Maybe $60,000.

I want complete control.

Offer the others...

But Jo...

They take it or leave it.

Tell them I'm so young

and inexperienced

and have such wild ideas

that in a year, the stock

might only be worth ten.

And after they take it,

tell Denby he's through.

He's too nervous to be honest.

Suppose they turn it down.

They won't,

if you're a good enough actor.

Well, is there anything else

I should take care of,

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