Professor McClennon...
my name is James West.
And this is Artemus Gordon.
You took enough time getting here.
Sorry, sir.
There was a small matter of washed-out railroad tracks
and coastal roads, as a result of the tidal wave.
Do you like puzzles?
Tsk. I can take 'em or leave 'em.
And, professor, your note said
that this was a matter of national security.
Listen to a few facts.
In California...
San Juan, Monterey and Mendocino.
In Oregon,
Coos Bay and Astoria.
In Washington, Aberdeen and Port Angeles.
All...
at separate times, overrun
by tidal waves in the past 36 hours.
Puzzle...why?
Just mean old stepmother nature on a rampage.
A disgusting expression.
Gentlemen...the reasons for tidal waves
are not obscure.
They're the result
of a major shift in the Earth's crust.
Like an earthquake or a volcano...
both of which can be absolutely ruled out
in the present case.
Oh, what is the reason then, sir?
Who are you?
Professor McClennon?
What do you want?
Message for you, sir...
from Dr. Pringle.
Dr. Pringle is my associate, gentlemen.
Excuse me.
Well, whoever did this-
and I'd sure admire to meet up
with him someday
-is an excellent shot.
"See you. Urgent matter.
"Meet me at the Cantina del Pescado.
Dr. Pringle."
Any answer?
That's what we came here for, answers.
I don't think we'll be getting any from this gentleman.
Excuse me, gentlemen.
I seem to have gotten in your way.
Qué quieres?
A tequila, por favor.
I'm looking for a Dr. Pringle.
Ah, snake eyes, señor.
Adios.
Well...
you had yourself a gay old time
at the cantina, I see.
The time didn't exactly weigh heavy on my hands.
Oh, that's nice.
Did you find Dr. Pringle?
Nope.
Never showed.
I did meet some interesting cutthroats, though.
How was your session with the police?
Very satisfactory.
There will be a private inquest as per my request.
You know, it's hard to believe
that the local constable was ready to throw away
this spent bullet.
Near as I can make out...
it's from a Stinger Magnum.
I'll know better once I get a good look at it
under the microscope.
Good. If you'll take care of that
and telegraph our report to Washington.
I'll go to the Hotel Aztec...
and check out Dr. McClennon's room.
Artie, did you hear me?
Mm-hm.
Every word.
Goodbye, Artie.
Mm-hm.
Professor McClennon? Ah, sí, señor.
Room number seven
on the second floor.
But, ha, I will be very happy to- To announce you.
No, that won't be necessary, you see,
because we're the closest of friends.
Oh, señor, but the rules are the rules.
I see. But why tire yourself climbing the stairs?
Pues sí, señor.
Heh. Why not?
Drop your gun...
or I'll shoot.
Uh, may I put it away?
Loaded guns have a way of going off
when they're dropped.
Now you will raise your hands into the air and back up.
Hands raised, and I'm...
backing up.
And now, who are you?
I'm just a poor, but proud country boy
who came to the city to make his fortune.
You think I won't shoot.
I know you won't.
You see, you can't.
Safety's still on.
You have to remove the safety
before you can pull the trigger.
Who are you?
James West.
And you?
Dr. Pringle,
Abigail J.
I was the one that wrote your department
at Professor McClennon's direction.
You're, uh, A.J. Pringle?
But, uh, that's all wrong.
Wrong?
Uh, Dr. Pringle should be a short, overweight,
balding middle-aged professor
with a little gray mustache.
You're quite beautiful.
That's enough, Mr. West.
I've heard about you.
The man with the velvet charm.
But don't let my sex mislead you.
I'm a scientist first, last and always.
Is that understood?
Quite.
If it isn't too indelicate a question,
what are you doing in Professor McClennon's room?
Professor McClennon left me standing orders
that if he should be gone for more than 12 hours,
I was to take certain papers
into my custody till his return.
But he's been gone longer than 12 hours,
and I can't find those papers.
They were special data reports,
and I've looked everywhere.
Oh, we're probably too late.
Too late?
You mean, somebody came here and stole them?
Mm-hm. But who would have done that?
Uh, probably the same...
person that...
Go on, Mr. West.
Uh, Abigail, I-
Mr. West...
I'm prepared to believe you enjoy some success
in charming a certain type of woman.
But your charm is lost on me.
So you'll kindly keep
your manly arms to yourself.
I'm sorry, doctor.
I just wanted to tell you that Professor McClennon's dead.
He's been murdered.
Oh, no.
Professor McClennon was about to reveal
something to do with national security
before he was, uh, murdered.
Something to do with tidal waves.
Do you have any idea what it was?
He never told me.
I knew it was of great importance, though.
I'd settle for any kind of clue.
You'll both raise your arms.
Ever so slowly.
And now...if you please...
you will each in turn, explain
what you are doing
in Dr. McClennon's room at this hour,
and why you are ransacking it.
I'm James West, and this is Dr. Pringle.
Dr. Pringle?
Not Professor McClennon's associate?
The same.
Now would you mind pointing that fieldpiece elsewhere?
Oh-ho.
I...apologize, doctor.
Uh, my name is, uh, Philo.
Captain Horatio Philo.
Are you also associated
with the professor, Mr. West?
Well, we corresponded while he was alive.
He's dead?
Yes.
But-
Oh, it was rather sudden.
Oh, I'm shocked...
Deeply shocked.
I never met Dr. McClennon, but...
I was a great admirer of his.
Matter of fact,
I came here to ask him to honor me
by dining at my place tomorrow night.
Hmm. Shame.
I understand he was a... A fine man
and...certainly a distinguished scientist.
Look...
Well, it won't be a festive occasion...
but, uh...
why don't you dine with me tomorrow night, both of you?
Oh, we'd be delighted.
Splendid.
My place is the Crow's Nest. It's up on the headland.
Anyone can direct you there.
Well...till next we meet.
By what right
do you speak for me?
I need more time with him.
Ten thirty at night is a rather odd time,
to be issuing dinner invitations
to Professor McClennon.
Oh, you will come tomorrow.
It might prove to be a unique experience.
And just so it all isn't a total waste...
Well, I've run all the tests I know.
They seem to be identical twins.
Both bullets fired out of the same gun.
I know that gun.
And the man that fired one of those bullets.
But how does Philo
figure into the McClennon puzzle?
Let's not kid ourselves, Jim.
The professor was the foremost authority
in his field.
He'd researched this thing thoroughly.
What he was leading up to was this:
that someone... a human...
was responsible
for this whole series of tidal waves,
actually causing.
Which could be just the beginning...
of a lot worse yet to come.
Right.
"Horatio Manning Philo
"inherited the Philo coal fortune.
"Expert on ecological, geographical,
"and physical aspects of the marine environment.
"Heads and supports organizations
"aimed at the preservation...
of sea life."
Artie. Hmm?
I didn't know anyone was trying
to destroy it, did you?
Oh, well, I...
go fishing from time to time.
Ah, just as long as you don't mention that
to our host tonight.
Listen, I hope the good captain won't mind
my dragging along like this.
No, if you don't tell any of your after-dinner jokes.
The rest is in the lap of the gods.
There's one thing we can be reasonably certain of.
Mm-mm. And what's that?
I bet they don't serve fish tonight.
May I venture to hope...
that you all enjoyed my humble fare?
Heh. It was, uh, most unusual.
I can honestly say I'll never forget it.
And you, Mr. Gordon?
Well, I never dreamed that
kelp could be served
in so many, eh, different
and interesting ways.
Mm-hm. The brandy's superb.
You all hated my dinner, didn't you?
Oh, no, no, no, no, captain.
It's just that we landlubbers aren't really ready
for the seaweed age.
That's all.
Don't patronize me, Mr. Gordon!
I'm not a feeble-minded eccentric.
Ha. "Manna from heaven."
Really. How outmoded that is.
It should be "kelp from the depths."
"Kelp...richer in food value and more life-giving
than all the other foods that men grub the earth for."
And an inexhaustible supply, to boot...
from the vast reservoir of the oceans.
Well...
perhaps I can make up for the shortcomings
of the dinner...
with a little more brandy.
Thank you.
I'd like to, uh, propose a toast, if I may.
Oh. By all means, Mr. West.
To one of the chosen few
the world will miss,
Professor McClennon.
Excellent toast, Mr. West.
And to that wonderful moment
when we...
close in on his murderer.
Even better, Mr. Gordon.
And now I'd like to propose a toast.
To the very important work
in which Professor McClennon was engaged,
before he was murdered.
Here, here.
By the way... what was the work?
I thought you were aware of that.
It had something to do with tidal waves.
I understand he developed a revolutionary
new theory about their cause.
Especially the current series of disturbances.
Mm.
Pity all that had to be interrupted.
But, of course, uh...
he left copious records of his research?
He left something even better than that.
Really? What was that, doctor?
Me.
Professor filled me in on all his findings
every inch of the way...
And they're all up here.
Oh, I'm feeling much better now.
Oh. Just let me
sit down for a minute.
Dr. Pringle, you're going to have
to answer our questions now.
Dr. Pringle...
did Professor McClennon fill you in
on all of his tidal wave research?
Then why did you tell
Captain Philo he did?
Why?!
Well, I decided to shake him up a little.
If Philo is behind this, Artie...
She's made herself a prime target with that.
You'd better keep a 24-hour watch
on the good doctor here.
Right.
I'll carry her up to her room
and have the maid put her to bed.
Where are you headed?
I'm going back to the Crow's Nest
to do a little high-level,
unsupervised snooping.
You can come in now, Mr. Gordon.
Oh, thank you, miss.
I think I can handle it from here.
Nothing too much to handle.
You won't hear a peep from her till morning.
Night. Good night.
Mr. Gordon! Come here, quick!
What is it, Pepe?
Well...what do you think of it?
It's something out of Dante.
Listen to the hum of the mighty workings, Mr. West.
Look!
That isn't just a dynamo.
No. It's a great pulsating heart.
And these...
These aren't just compressors, not at all.
They are mighty lungs,
purifying, extracting,
circulating.
What's all this for?
For salvation, Mr. West.
Yours, of course.
No.
The salvation I'm concerned with
transcends my own importance...
your ridiculous little Secret Service Department...
even the smug, self-satisfied world of science.
Let me show you.
Here we are in the womb of an extinct volcano...
and this... is my window
onto the most important of worlds...
the sea.
The salvation you seek is for the sea?
And why not? After all, life began there.
It reached its most significant development there.
To what on Earth or in the air
can match the ineffable grace
of the shark...
or the ray or the bonito.
Or the gossamer-jeweled perfection
of the sea anemone...
with its colors that fade a rainbow
into insignificance?
And this, if you please,
is what man is trying to destroy.
It's very difficult for a non-scientist to swallow.
Mr. West...
...do you know to what extent man
has already polluted the sea?
Do you know his ambitious plans to transform it all
into a vast garbage depot, a wasteland of swill,
corrosive chemicals and factory dumpings?
Butchering our whales and seals
for his own base creature comforts and petty vanities.
On and on and on till my beloved sea
becomes nothing but a putrefying graveyard?
And your answer to this is tidal waves?
Exactly.
There's a rude justice there, wouldn't you say?
Man is spoiling the sea...
until the sea rises...
in its awful majesty...
and destroys him.
This is for the girl.
Well, with a little something
taken out for losing West.
But the captain says you can make it up to him...
by finding West's partner,
Artemus Gordon.
An impressive array of machinery you'll agree.
Can you guess, Mr. West, what it's all intended for?
I'm sure it wasn't designed
to pull saltwater taffy.
Take your hands off me.
No rash moves, Mr. West.
You'll find Dr. Pringle in...
perfect condition.
My apologies, doctor.
I am honored... to have a colleague
of such intelligence as well as beauty...
...in my rather novel,
but I can assure you, very comfortable
abode.
I'm not your colleague, captain...
nor do I intend to be comfortable here.
Hm.
Let me tell you
that your precious colleagues at one time
denied me the very laboratories and funds
which brought all this to fruition.
And tonight,
the very principles they scoffed at...
will bring about their inundation.
Doctor...
with all your academic wisdom...
can you tell me what this machine is?
Why, it, uh...
It looks like some kind of compressor.
Correct, doctor.
And...to put it into a jargon
that Mr. West can understand...
the real purpose of it all
is...
simply blowing bubbles.
You think I'm joking?
Come. I'll show you.
Now...accept, if you will,
that the seabed has numerous pockets
hundreds of feet below the surface.
Proposition:
What if one were to fill
those pockets with air
under greater and greater pressure
until fin-
We've just witnessed
one of the mysterious tidal waves, I take it?
One of the smaller ones, obviously.
Do you know that all the major coastal cities of the world
are practically at sea level?
Think what a delightful devastation
that ripple would cause if it were magnified
a million times.
And by the oddest coincidence,
you happen to be working
on one of those at this time.
Oh, yes, Mr. West.
At this very moment, I have high-pressure pipelines
running to a pocket
big enough to swallow up a small city.
At this very moment, my compressors
are pouring air into it,
compressing it to higher and higher levels.
When the lid of that pocket finally gives wa-
And what does that tube represent then?
Can you guess, Mr. West?
No.
An experimental pneumatic delivery tube.
It goes right through the volcano wall into the water,
all the way up.
What merchandise are you aiming
to transport in it, captain?
Canisters of poison, for one.
Poison for the atmosphere.
Poison that would be washed ashore,
spread inland.
An ingenious way of paying back
the polluters of the sea...
in their own coin.
At the risk of sounding critical,
it strikes me your plan is not salvation...
so much as revenge.
Quite.
Well...now your curiosity's been satisfied on all counts.
There is no reason why you should not die
happy and fulfilled.
Sorry to interrupt you.
You better tell your boys to drop their guns.
I'll see you rot first. Ugh.
I'd change my mind, captain, if I were you.
Do as he says. Drop them.
Now kick 'em over here.
Now, captain, if you and the boys
will stay on your best behavior.
Pull the switch on the wall.
Hold it.
All right, Mr. West.
Enough heroics.
Thank you, friend. Or is this a private club?
I sincerely hope
you will both be comfortable here.
Yeah, I think you will find the furnishings
in excellent taste.
That steam pipe, for example.
Oh, good.
Then we won't get cold.
Oh-ho, I can promise you that.
That pipe serves as a safety valve
for excessive steam from the compressors.
The heat is enormous.
Well...
I won't bore you with any more dull details.
With this heat,
we can only last about five more minutes.
Stay here.
They're too damp!
Five minutes, I believe you said.
Give or take an eternity or two.
We can expect a visitor any time now.
Check the bracing.
Yes, captain.
Pressure?
Fifteen thousand units plus, captain.
Temperature holding?
Temperature holding, sir.
Let me know immediately if it drops.
A bit late, aren't you, Felix?
Come here.
Why the devil do you keep up
that hobbling masquerade
when you're down here?
Oh, sorry, captain. Force of habit.
Sixteen thousand units.
Temperature holding, sir.
Round up all the men and bring them here.
In less than 30 minutes, we'll blow up the ocean floor.
The whole coastline will be under 10 feet of seawater.
Hey. That's the stuff to give
to the troops, captain.
Wait.
What did you do about Gordon?
Couldn't find hide nor hair of West, though.
You'll find what's left of his hide
in the steam-condensing cave.
Get going.
Aye, captain.
No.
I'll take over. Captain's orders.
Wait a minute.
Give me the gun.
That's very good, but it's me.
Artie.
Listen.
In exactly 30 minutes,
that madman is gonna drown
the entire West Coast.
I know he's making his own special tidal wave for it.
There was a compressor back there
that looked like it could be causing
most of the damage.
Get Abby out of here
and warn as many people as you can.
Right. What about you?
I'm gonna try and stop him.
Good luck, Artie.
Listen, I better go with you.
I thought of it first.
You've only got 27 minutes to warn the town.
All right.
Go topside and check the grounds.
Psst.
It seems quite accurate.
Captain, the pressure's dropping.
What the devil's going on?
Having a little trouble, captain?
West!
Don't be an idiot!
I know you've reversed the compressors.
You'll blow up the whole works.
You wouldn't try and fool me, would you, captain?
I tell you the apparatus wasn't designed to work that way.
You'll bring the walls down on your head.
Don't be a fool.
You're frightening your men, captain.
You think that's a good idea?
Get back to your posts.
Get back! You hear?
Captain, I think the rats are leaving the ship.
You think so?
You think I'd let them get away?
Jim.
I hope there's another way out of here.
That was the only way out, Mr. West.
To you two gentlemen.
Inventive, brilliant...
courageous.
We'll drink to that...
because it's true.
And now I must be going.
What about tonight?
Oh, I'm afraid not, Jim.
You see, certain events in the last few days
have reminded me of the essential-
shall we call them advantages
of simply being a woman.
Especially when there are handsome,
desirable men around.
Thank you for that, Jim.
I've come to realize I can be a scientist
and wear a wedding ring at the same time.
Oh, are you getting married?
Well, don't most girls?
I've already kept my fellow
waiting much too long a time,
so I'm going back to Boston and get married.
Goodbye, Jim.
Goodbye.
Goodbye, Artemus.
Oh, you don't meet many like that these days.
Nope.
You sure don't, Jim.
That's a lovely la-
She forgot her glasses. I'd better-
Artie. Forget it.
Uh, take a good look at them.
They're glass.
They're just ordinary, plain glass.
You knew that all along, didn't you?
Well, that's how she kept the fellas away.
Well, she doesn't need these anymore.
Artie...
You look beautiful.