Timberjack

Tim! Tim Chipman!

Mr Tilton. My friend. The son of my good, old

friend. It's good to see you. You look fit.

I believe, like Cicero did, you must begin to be

an old man early, if you want to be an old man long.

This is no way to welcome you. Come! No, Swifty, I've

had bad news about my father. Your father. Oh, yes.

Well, you've got five minutes

to spare to see Lynne. Lynne? Where?

My lovely, successful progeny - apple of my

failing eye - in her successful establishment.

Lynne owns all this?

Lock, stock and whisky barrel.

That piano came from San Francisco.

Everyone's got to remain bareheaded while here.

Except me. I bare my head to no man.

Lynne has elegant ideas of grandeur.

This primitive area does not have sufficient problems

to keep a man of jurisprudence gainfully occupied.

When evil days fell upon me, Lynne's

melodious voice stood her in good stead.

Croft Brunner set her up in business right

here in his warehouse - all designed by Lynne -

first as a partner, and then, by the winds of fortune,

as sole owner. I, of course, did the contracts.

.. A drink, bartender!

Ladies and gentlemen, the Vermilion

Belle takes pleasure in presenting...

THE Vermilion Belle!

Hello, Lynne.

I can't get over how great you look.

I'm glad to see you, Tim. I knew

you'd get here as soon as you could.

Let me interrupt to apologise for not having spoken

about your father, but Lynne will do it better.

I'll see you soon. This is important.

You know, of course, about your father. Only the

wire from old Riika saying Dad had been badly hurt.

Why?

Is he dead?

Four days ago. They found him

along one of the old roads.

He'd been in a fight or something.

His skull was fractured.

Who did it?

The sheriff spoke to the doctor.

Did he have any ideas?

Sorry. I haven't heard.

I'll find out.

It's nice seeing you again, Lynne.

That is as far as you go, Chipman.

Oh, it's you, Ole.

Get that out of there.

I'm going through.

Can't do. Mr Brunner's orders.

I'll do it myself.

All right, Ole. That's enough.

C'mon, let's go.

Your hats and your boots,

take 'em off.

Good evening, Jingles. Howdy, Mr

Brunner. How's that hunk of mange?

Someday Napoleon's

after mistaking you for a bone.

A shinbone, I mean.

Where's Lynne? Back in her room.

Tell her I'm here, will you?

.. Napoleon, it's your turn.

Go fetch Miss Lynne

All right, Napoleon.

Will of the Woods to see you,

Miss Lynne.

Croft, missed you at supper.

I had some work to do.

That's a beautiful dress, Lynne.

Beautiful! When it costs over $200,

it's called a gown, Mr Brunner.

Saw an old friend of yours, Miss

Lynne. Anybody special in mind?

Tim Chipman. He was trying to tear

down our barricade. What happened?

Just convinced him

to be more law abiding.

And his father dead only four days.

I think she mad at you, boss.

A woman's like the logging business.

The more you chop, the more you got.

Hurry, Jingles!

Tim...

are you all right?

I'm all right.

Where are we?

In the storeroom at Talka.

You brought me here?

Another bad accident like that

and you'll have no grandchildren.

Yeah, I guess

I fell off my own railroad.

I figured the sheriff would've put

Ole in the poky a long time ago.

I could've handled maybe two of them, but... three

of them hit me with everything except lightning..

You've only been away 12 years and already

you've forgotten how rough they play in the woods.

Brunner just showed up.

Why, Lynne! Have a cigar.

Fresh from Havana.

Nevermind. I've got Tim Chipman in the storeroom.

Good. Wrap him up. Maybe Risolli here can sell him!

I thought maybe you'd given him a fractured

skull. So that's why you left me so mad.

You were afraid we'd given him

too much of a going-over.

Welcome home, Chipman. Sorry you've come under

such unhappy conditions. We live and we die.

Your father was a great man. His kind

carved it all out of the wilderness.

We had our differences. In later years, he didn't

like me much. But Clay Chipman taught me all I know.

Did he teach you

to have people beat up?

Let's not say things we'll be sorry

for, with the lady here.

Don't go building a high line because of

me. Here's to good health and good sense.

Skol. Skol.

What do you do now, Tim? Construction

engineer. Last job was in Venezuela. Oil.

Oil in Venezuela! What's a man

want oil for when he's got timber?

I've come to the same conclusion myself.

It might be rough on a college man.

He was born and raised here,

remember?

After he's picked up the pieces of his

old man's outfit and made money on 'em,

you and I'll throw him the biggest

champagne party ever seen here.

Why don't you just sell out and

start somewhere else fresh? Uh-huh?

It'll be tough on you

without a railroad.

Half of that railroad belongs to Chipman. Provided

you pay the $11,000 assessment on your stock.

Brunner, is that what you

and my dad had your fight about?

Don't get some silly idea that I was

responsible for what happened to him.

In the last couple of years, your father

thought everyone was trying to cross him.

Like Axe-Handle Ole. I'm trying to be your friend,

Chipman. You're better off out of here. I'm staying.

Lynne, is my hand car out there?

No, I saw it back at the depot.

Those were my orders. It's railroad

property. The barricade is, too.

Is that what you call trying to be friendly?

You can use my carriage. No, thanks. I'll walk.

He can't walk. Make him use my team.

I need the exercise.

Tim... things will seem better

in daylight.

Sure, Lynne. Sure.

You feel dandy, Chipman?

Come here, Ole.

Ole, I think you're

a pretty strong fella...

.. with that axe handle. Without it,

you're a no-good pinhead. Ja. Ja. Ja. Ja.

Someday, somebody will pound it into

your skull. Are you a killer or a klutz?

Ole, turn him into macaroni.

Go on!

By golly, Chipman, here's axe handle!

I once know a girl in Fargo,

North Dakota, was stronger than that!

All right, Ole, come on!

Ole!

That's a pretty good trick

to pull on a halfwit.

If you're that smart with men with brains, maybe

you'll get somewhere in the lumber business.

I might run you out of this country,

too.

What do you want, monsieur?

I'm Tim Chipman. How we know,

monsieur? Ask your boss. Ask Riika.

Tim!

Tim! Riika!

I got here as soon as I could.

I was afraid you didn't get my message. Papa Clay

died right after I come back from sending the telegram.

Yeah, I heard.

Ah, it hasn't changed a bit.

Your papa loved this room.

Who did it, Riika? Who killed him?

I don't know, Tim.

That's the truth. I don't know.

It was Brunner, wasn't it?

Maybe.

They've been fighting

two or three years.

Much worse than the old days. Brunner told

me Dad was getting full of linsey-woolsey.

Have you had a fight with him

already? So soon?

Ole. I tried to take a hand car through the

barricade. He and a couple of his buddies.

Riika, who did it? Who killed Dad?

Brunner told the sheriff he thought

it was someone here in this camp.

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