The Return of Frank James Page #4

- Over my dead body.

If that's the way you want it.

Help! Help!

Help! Help!

Help! Help!

[Whistling, Cheering]

[Audience Yells, Screams]

[Clamoring]

Why didn't you do what I told you to?

- I wanted to see you give it to 'em.

- Where'd you put the horses?

Over there on the corner.

[Bell Clanging]

[Man] The theater's on fire!

Come on! Come on! Come on!

Come on! Giddap! Giddap there!

Come on!

Giddap!

Come on!

[Gunshots]

[Gunshots]

[Gunshots]

[Whinnying]

[Whinnying]

[Hoofbeats Departing]

[Gunshot]

[Gunshot, Ricochet]

[Gunshots]

[Gun Clicks]

[Screaming]

That's one of'em, Jesse.

- [Footsteps Approaching]

- [Knocking]

- I beg your pardon, but you're Miss Stone?

- Yes.

My name is Runyan. I'm

from the St. Louis Midland.

Oh, railroad police. Won't you sit down?

Thank you. I'm, uh, sorry to disturb you...

but, uh, it's just a formality.

Uh, I'm checking up on

the death of FrankJames.

Uh, you wrote the story about it, didn't you?

Yes, I did. Now I'm

writing a story of his life.

Oh? Should be very

interesting. [Chuckles] Very.

Um, that youngster who gave you

the account of the killing...

tell me about him.

- What did he look like?

- Look like?

Well, he was a boy not more

than 16 or so. Light, curly hair.

Turned-up nose. That's

about all I can tell you.

Ah, I see.

Um, in your story, there was something

about a friend who was with the boy.

What did he look like?

Hmm, he was a man about 29 to 30...

six feet tall, maybe more.

Hard to tell. Walks with a sort of stoop.

Has blue eyes and rather high cheekbones.

Speaks with a slow drawl,

but doesn't say much.

Yes. What did you say his name was?

Woodson. Ben Woodson.

Woodson. He here now?

No. They told me over at the hotel that

he'd suddenly been called away on business.

But I'm sure he'll be back soon.

[Chuckles] At any rate, you hope so.

Yes, I do. He's most likable.

Yes.

I guess women could find a

certain something about Frank.

- Frank?

- Your friend Woodson...

- is Frank James.

- What did you say?

I said your likable friend is

FrankJames, outlaw and murderer.

You-You can't mean it.

Isn't this your friend Woodson?

But I don't understand. Why should-

It's all very simple, my dear.

You see, Frank had two very good

reasons for wanting to be dead:

The express robbery in Missouri

and his friends, the Fords.

I don't believe it.

He wouldn't do that.

He was so nice and helpful.

- You sure there's no mistake?

- Oh, quite.

You see, right after reading your

story, I went down to the border.

[Chuckles] Nobody there had ever heard

of the gunfight that boy told you about.

I'm sorry, my dear. You were

the victim of a very cruel hoax.

You and your paper.

However, all hardened

criminals are cruel and vicious.

Uh, you said he was coming back?

That's what they told me at the hotel...

- but now that the news is

out- - But the news isn't out.

Only the two of us know about Woodson.

Well, uh, I'll be leaving you now.

But you'll hear from me very soon.

And don't worry, my dear,

you will have the last laugh.

[Door Opens, Closes]

- Mose?

- Yes, miss?

- There's something I want you to do for me.

- Yes'm.

- You remember that man you took the message to last week?

- You mean Mr. Woodson?

Yes. Now here's what I want you to do.

He's away now, but when he

comes back to the hotel...

tell him not to go inside,

not to talk to anybody...

or to see anybody until

he gets in touch with me.

- Understand?

- Yes'm.

This Mr. Woodson ain't on no account

to do nothing until he done seen you.

All right, Mose, but remember,

it's important-very, very important-

and be sure-

Look! Look at it, Frank.

A hair. A real hair.

See it? Yeah, feel it. Feel it.

Couple more like that, and

you'll need a mustache cup, son.

Hands up, gentlemen.

Well, this is a real pleasure, Frank.

I haven't seen you since that

little affair at Northfield.

Oh, come now. Don't act

that way. Be sociable.

How about a little of that charm you

loosed on that lady reporter, huh?

Oh, you're quite a

storyteller, aren't you, bub?

Yeah. All right, put on

your boots and your coats...

and we'll make a little call on the marshal.

Come on.

Guess you're wondering how

I caught up with you, huh?

[Chuckling] Very, very simple.

I knew that Mexican story was

a fake the minute I read it.

Showed a picture of you to

Miss Stone, and there you are.

Yes, you lawbreakers are

all just about the same.

Oh, some of you are smarter than

others, but sooner or later...

you'll all trip yourselves up!

I did good, didn't I?

Yes, son, this time you sure did.

## [Humming]

- Ooh!

- Take a deep breath, missy.

[Inhales, Exhales]

- [Knocking]

- ## [Humming]

Boyjust left this for you.

Tell my mother I may be late for dinner.

A friend of mine's ill.

Going over to see her.

Yes'm.

[Pounding]

Come in.

[Pounding Continues]

Come in!

[Pounding Continues]

[Screaming]

Help! Police! Help! Help!

[Pounding Continues]

- [Pounding Continues]

- Come out or I'll shoot!

- [Muffled Yelling]

- Try to commit suicide, huh?

Huh? [Muffled]

Yeah, that's how it was. Didn't mean to

lie, but there was nothing else I could do.

- I'm awfully sorry

I- - And you should be.

Taking advantage of a young girl...

and hanging up people in

closets like raincoats.

But you can't stay here.

You've got to get away.

If you don't, they'll be hanging

you like they're hanging your friend.

- Friend? What friend?

- Didn't you read about it?

The paper gives his name as Pinky.

- Pinky something or other.

- What?

Here, I cut it out.

Why, they're plumb loco.

Pinky wasn't even in town when it happened.

I sent him back to the

farm. They can't hang him.

He's already been found guilty...

- and sentenced.

- But he's innocent.

He's as innocent as you are.

Some of McCoy's work. His

way of getting back at me.

Pinky never so much as even

stole a chicken in his whole life.

- What are you going to do?

- I gotta do something.

I:

- I wanna talk to you.

Go ahead. You can talk in front of her.

- Well, it's about Bob Ford. I found out where he is.

- Yeah?

Mining camp called Creede. About

four or five days' ride from here.

Some fellas at the livery

stable were talking about him.

- Get out the horses. I'll be right with you.

- All right.

So, you're going to let

your friend hang after all.

What? Well, there's nothin'

I can do about it now.

- Once I get Bob Ford out-

- But you'll be too late.

If you'll look at the clipping, you'll

see the hanging's set for next week.

I know, but what can I do?

Tell me, is it more important

for you to kill a man...

than to save the life of an innocent one?

Nothing's more important

to me than gettin' Bob Ford.

I'll send a telegram to the governor.

I'll tell him Pinky's innocent.

Promise to give myself up the

minute I've taken care of Ford.

But anyone could send a

telegram and sign your name.

You've got to go yourself... now.

Frank, you can't do anything else.

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