We are all serving time, Mr. West.
Look at me:
A prisoner without the possibility of parole
from this twisted and warped frame of mine.
Even this feathered morsel must remain imprisoned
to keep her safe from prowling cats.
And Ralph Kleed?
Ah, his moment of freedom is near.
In a little less than an hour,
Ralph Kleed will expiate his offenses against society
by dying on the gallows in that courtyard.
Unfortunately, you can't guarantee that, sir.
Only a fool guarantees anything.
Except that eventually, like everyone,
he must die.
We'll all feel safer then.
Aside from the murders he's committed,
his threats against the president
make him a very dangerous man.
You don't seriously believe that somehow Ralph Kleed will,
like a bird, soar out over the wall
into the blue and escape?
In view of the recent prison breaks, warden-
Yes, yes. I know all about them,
but prisoners do not break out of my penitentiary.
Furthermore-
Ralph Kleed in the security passage, sir.
Pass him through.
Yes, sir.
You know there's a well-organized conspiracy
to free killers like Kleed.
That's why I'm here, warden.
There's no chance of that happening here.
Besides, it is my policy to give a condemned man
an opportunity to make a final statement
before he faces his punishment.
Come in.
The reason that you're here, Kleed-
Well,
if it ain't the great James West,
the secretest secret agent of them all.
Kleed, listen to me.
Very shortly you will be going to meet your maker.
So you say.
I say you're about to apologize sweetly,
then set me free.
Too much time in solitary, Kleed.
It softened your brain.
You think so, eh?
But you don't think so, huh, Mr. West?
No, I don't think so.
Kleed, what makes you think
the warden's going to, um, set you free?
If I told you that,
you'd know as much as me, wouldn't you?
Kleed!
You must put an end to this murdering!
There's gonna be an end very soon, warden.
Ferner, Coles, come in.
Release him.
Now escort him to the front gate and set him free.
Sir, surely you don't-
You heard the order!
Yes, sir.
Of course I realize you don't intend to set him free,
but what is this all about?
Sit down, Mr. West, and relax.
Warden, I-
Ralph Kleed?
Gone, sir.
There were some men waiting for him with a horse.
Find out anything at the police investigation, Artie?
Certainly did.
One whistle, formerly the property of Ralph Kleed,
tested at the lab, where it turns out
to have a pitch with very special properties.
I know. I saw the effect it had on the warden:
a new personality, a strength, a kind of violence.
You couldn't begin to understand, Artie.
But how?
I'll show you how. Come here.
Crystal.
Franconium pyrite.
Jim, the autopsy on Warden Primwick
turned up a very interesting detail.
Sometime recently, in the past month,
he'd had a very delicate brain operation.
What's the crystal got to do with it?
An identical crystal was found
carefully implanted in his brain.
You checked with his physician?
Of course. He doesn't know anything
about any operation at all.
Here's where it gets interesting.
Keep your eye on the Franconium pyrite.
Beautiful.
The crystal and the whistle are in tune with each other.
So when Kleed blew the whistle...
The warden heard it,
and in some weird way obliged him by ordering him released.
Artie, I saw the warden's widow today and she told me
that he had been complaining about persistent headaches.
How long?
Three weeks ago, right after he returned
from a conference with the territorial governor.
Artie.
Heh?
Now, supposing somewhere
between here and here,
a master surgeon performed an operation on him.
If we could find him...
Jim, there's a small matter of 100 square miles of nothing
between here and the territorial capital.
Forget it.
We can't forget it,
not with the president due here in a few days
and Kleed and killers like him still on the loose.
Well, that's like looking for a needle
in a 100-mile haystack.
Yeah, you're right. It's pretty tough.
Tough if you were trying to find something,
but Artie,
what if you were trying to be found?
I pass on that one.
Look, we were sent here
because killers like Kleed were liberated.
They had one thing in common.
I know, they all were obsessed with the idea
of assassinating the president.
And what's the name of the last member
of the "Let's kill Grant" club still behind bars?
Carl Storch, now in the Indian Springs Penitentiary.
Supposing that Mr. Storch was being transported from here
to the territorial capital,
and supposing that information were to leak out.
Oh.
Where are we roughly?
I'd say about 20 miles into the middle of nowhere,
and just about five minutes away
from dying of thirst or alkali poisoning.
Here.
Now I know why you refused an armed escort
from Eagle Heights.
Why kill off a whole unit
when just the two of us will do?
The idea is to persuade them
to removing Storch
as inconspicuously as possible.
Yeah, them. Them. Who's this "them" you keep talking about?
Right now, I'd say there they are.
Whoa.
Great jumping balls of St. Elmo's fire.
You didn't tell me this was going to be a costume ball.
You got some merchandise in there for me.
Open up.
What are you talking about, major?
What merchandise?
Carl Storch. Let him out.
Oh, boy, major,
have you got the wrong pew.
Nothing back there but a mangy horse thief
I gotta bring to fort with-
You want me to get rough with you, is that it?
All right, you.
Come on out of there.
Yeah, you.
So you're Carl Storch, huh?
You hardly look worthwhile saving.
Who asked you to save me, you musclehead?
You're gonna learn to be more respectful of me,
because one more note,
you're gonna be a pincushion.
Would you like me to blow this whistle, Mr. Storch?
Now go ahead.
Hey, wait a minute.
If you're gonna shoot him-
Do you have any objections?
Let me have the pleasure.
No, no. Please.
Here we go.
Oh, your eyes are green.
Thought for sure they were blue.
Well, I asked the general, but all he would say is,
"How should I know?"
So I decided to sit here and wait,
and I was beginning to think
you were never going to get around to opening them.
It could've worked out that way.
I'm sorry about the eyes,
but if I ever get another opportunity to choose, I'd be-
What's the matter? Doesn't it fit?
Oh, yeah, fits fine.
I just don't know who to thank.
Looks like an interesting game.
The only game worth a candle.
Object is?
To survive.
Looks like our friend out there just might make it.
No, he won't. All he has is fear
and the fleetness of foot that fear brings.
That's not enough.
Aagh! Agh!
Taps for Mr. Ralph Kleed,
a gentlemen you will never have the pleasure of meeting.
It's a great pity.
Exercise concluded, sir.
Satisfactory, sergeant.
So
you are Carl Storch, hm?
I am General Titus Trask.
Hi.
When called on by your superiors,
you will answer, "sir."
Yes, sir.
As you were, Stryker.
He will learn without that.
Did I do something wrong?
Leave us.
I think you will do nicely.
You are properly obedient.
You handle yourself well.
And you obviously like to take the big gamble.
Thank you. Sir!
Sir.
You, um, seem quite young to have accumulated
such an impressive total.
Total? Of what, sir?
What else have you accumulated?
Murders.
Oh, that.
Well, I stopped counting them long ago.
Do you know who I am?
There was a-
A Sergeant Trask that I remem-
The same.
I've since promoted myself to general.
As I recall, this sergeant was booted out of the army
by General Grant himself.
Yes, uh, heh-heh,
an honor I have never ceased to remember.
Perhaps you recall why.
It had something to do with, uh, soldiers under his command
dying in desert maneuvers.
They were plowboys,
not soldiers!
They didn't deserve to survive.
I can't understand why they didn't.
I understand you took them out on a forced march,
filling their canteens with salt water.
This is, uh, my secretary, Josephine.
Ah, we've met.
Oh, yes.
There was that great curiosity about the color of your eyes.
What do you want now?
I'm looking for my lemon drops.
Josephine finds herself irresistibly attracted
to handsome young men like yourself, Storch.
Isn't that so, my dear?
I don't know what you're talking about.
You're the latest arrival.
You will find she will think up
the most preposterous reasons to be near you,
which could not only prove bothersome,
but equally dangerous as well!
Mm, there you go, raising your voice again.
Stop!
Josephine. Josephine!
I think you'll do better when it comes your turn, Storch.
Am I gonna have a turn, sir?
Just to Battle Alley.
A training ground like that is valuable
in weeding out the fit from the unfit, don't you agree?
Fit for what, sir?
My cadre.
What do you think of the cadre?
Well, they're amazing, all right.
Who winds them up every night?
You know, you're not without your share of brains,
Mr. Storch, along with your other talents.
Yes, the most outstanding characteristic of my cadre
is their completely machine-like, fearless quality.
But let me assure you, my friend.
They're made of flesh and blood, like you and I.
Surely there must be more than that.
There is.
To begin with,
like you and Kleed,
each has a common hatred against General Grant.
Each is a murderer.
Each has attempted or planned
to assassinate the man in the White House.
I, too, have a score to settle with General Grant.
Tomorrow he will be in the vicinity
and by a strange coincidence, so will my cadre.
To you this is just a glittering fragment of crystal.
To me, and to those who understand it,
it means a sonically-conditioned reflex response.
In simpler terms, the professor is talking about
a system of absolute control over men.
Go on.
The operation, a most delicate one,
is to surgically implant one of these crystals
into the posterior lobe of the subject's brain.
Now,
when a command is relayed to the subject
through the crystal by means of-
The commands are relayed by the whistle?
An improvement over the shouted command,
wouldn't you say?
That's revolutionary.
You see, with a handful of men,
I have a small army incapable of being afraid
or of feeling pain.
Any other questions?
Yes.
Does one of those Franconium crystals have my name on it?
Originally, it did.
You have all the qualifications.
But after looking you over,
I've decided you will make a good second-in-command.
But, sir, don't you already have a second-in-command?
Yes, but Stryker is mortal.
He may not always be around.
At any rate, a, uh, replacement should be available.
Gentlemen.
Now, what's your trouble, Kleed?
That new guy with the general.
Carl Storch? That ain't Carl Storch.
You're out of your head.
I tell you, I know Carl Storch, and that ain't him.
That's James West, secret agent.
That's the starting signal, Storch.
Time to take a walk through Battle Alley.
You're not armed, of course, but that's not important.
This is just a training exercise, that's all.
All right, carry on.
Stryker.
Sir.
I suppose there's no doubt that he really is James West.
None at all, sir.
You see, Kleed served with the real Carl Storch.
Ah, it's a pity.
I had great plans for that young man out there.
Mm. I still have, sir. And with the general's permission-
No, no, no, no, Stryker.
You don't dispose of the horse
until he's run the race.
Besides, it should be interesting
to see how long Mr. West can last
when he comes up against the cadre.
Yes, sir.
Are there any other orders, sir?
Yes.
The cadre will fight to kill.
My Mr. West.
He's gonna die!
No, sergeant!
A very ingenious way
Mr. West can be put to work has just occurred to me.
If Mr. West is still alive, that is.
Hey, you there!
Oh, a very good day to you, governor.
Could you direct me to the lady of the house, please?
There's no strangers allowed on this ranch, mister.
Kelton is the name, governor, and no stranger at all.
I am giving out free samples today, sir,
of the revolutionary new self-inflating balloon,
called the Little Jim.
Now, if you will notice,
I am not utilizing any kind of...
Hey! Here, hold it!
Don't move.
Who are you?
Madam, you are the one
for whom it was made.
Kelton is the name, madam.
Traveling emporium.
I have here, madam, a little special something
directly from Spain, across the Pyrenees.
And let me tell-
Oh, madam.
I thought I'd seen every aspect of the female form divine.
But may I say, madam, that you, without a doubt,
as a Spanish seńorita,
are the most gorgeous, ravishing creature
it's ever been my privilege to see.
I hate it.
You're right. It's wrong for you.
But- Ss.
Mister, how did you get in here, anyway?
Why, I've got a notion to tell the general.
Here. Hold it. Hold it, please.
Nights in Casablanca!
Who?
Of course.
It's perfect.
The perfume that was made for you, madam.
The perfume that is you,
smuggled out of the Casbah
at great risk to personal life and limb.
Guaranteed to drive strong men mad with desire.
Mm, it stinks.
Well, we've had a hot spell here recently.
And along with that, madam,
a stunning set of matched Japanese pearls.
Each and every single one of them
brought up from the bottom of the ocean
by a stunning set of matched Japanese maidens.
Pearls give me the hives.
Now, isn't that interesting? The same with me. Wait.
I got the very thing for you, madam.
A lifelike portrait
in true color
of one of the most glorious creatures
in all of nature.
You, madam.
Oh, and that's not all, madam.
Wait a minute.
Where is he? Who?
You recognized his picture. He's around here somewhere.
So, what's it to you?
He stole some pearls off of me.
I want me money.
What does that have to do with me?
I'd be most grateful to whoever could help me
as to finding his whereabouts.
Most grateful.
Hey, look, if the general knew I was even talking to you,
I'd be in mighty big trouble,
so you better just get out of here and-
Oh.
You don't know how happy I am to see that you're still alive.
Well, that's unanimous, sir.
It seems that I've lost my shirt
and somehow gotten my wrists wedged into these straps.
Oh, that's unfortunate, Mr. Storch.
Or should I say
West?
I see Mr. Kleed survived.
I knew he was a mass murderer, but I'm disappointed.
I didn't know he was a blabbermouth.
How come I'm still alive?
Well, just as Sergeant Stryker
was about to administer the coup de grāce to you yesterday,
I suddenly realized
how much more valuable you are alive than dead.
Oh, let's start at the beginning.
If my program were merely to kill the president,
that task would not be too difficult.
Ah, I see. You have some other refinement in mind.
What if...
What if, instead of killing him,
you merely borrowed him long enough
for a, uh, very delicate operation. Say-
Ah, I see, to implant a Franconium crystal.
It's a pleasure to talk to such a bright young man,
isn't it, professor?
How many men do you know have ever owned a president,
Mr. West, as I shortly will?
About face!
Very good. Very good.
All right, send out your men.
A very fine United States Cavalry sergeant,
wouldn't you say, Mr. West?
Where do I come in?
Oh, yes.
Problem.
How can an enemy force
approach an armed presidential escort
that is alert to danger in any form,
borrow the president,
then return him,
and all this, without alarming the escort in any degree?
Having those wind-up toy soldiers in those uniforms
won't do it.
Of course not, but what if they're led
by one of the most trusted of presidential associates?
Like James West, for instance.
Mm, I see.
The cadre's been made to believe they must follow James West.
And James West will be made to understand
that he must beg, borrow, or steal
the president for me.
One Franconium pyrite crystal, Mr. West.
All yours.
The operation, you will be happy to know,
is quite a simple one.
It consists basically of a hole
drilled into your skull.
Oh. For a while, I thought it might be complicated.
But simple though it is,
a slip of the scalpel
or a sudden movement on your part,
could result in your death.
And we wouldn't want that, would we?
No, if- If at all possible,
that should be avoided.
Which is why I'm going to administer an anesthetic,
Mr. West.
You will love it.
A wonderful feeling of relaxed well-being.
You will go drifting off in the clouds
into dreamland,
and when you awake...
Idiot! There is not enough cotton here.
Get me some right away. Yes, sir.
As I was saying, when you awake, when the effects
of the anesthesia have worn away,
the pyrite crystal will have been planted.
Don't be impatient, Mr. West. It will only-
If it's cotton wool you want, guv,
have some of that.
Jim. Cart.
Very top of the morning to you, Mr. West.
Artie, the wrong people
have found out about President Grant's visit.
We don't have much time.
I take it by that you've got some kind of a plan.
Roughly, yeah.
To begin with,
I've had a very delicate brain operation.
Oh, that's brilliant.
Now you know what we're up against
if that little surprise of yours doesn't work.
Oh, if for any reason you are not absolutely delighted
with this revolutionary new process
for removing spots permanently,
you may return the container to the maker for a full refund.
Don't you know it's not polite to eavesdrop?
Of course, but how do you think I find things out?
Shame on you. You know, one of these days,
somebody's gonna catch you at it.
Wait a minute.
What sort of things do you find out?
Well, things like, uh,
where they're waiting for you right now.
Where?
At the far side of Indian Butte, of course,
by Tenpin Mountain.
They told you that?
No. They don't tell me anything.
When the door's closed, I sneak up and listen.
Josephine, I don't approve of the company you keep,
but thank you.
I'll go along with my partner on that.
Oh, my face.
It's West, all right, sir.
And about time.
I was beginning to think Frimm had botched the job.
Dismount!
Look at it, Stryker.
This was once James West,
human being and dedicated agent
to the United States Secret Service, now in my force.
We can use him, sir. It won't be any picnic.
The matchless, fearless, indestructible soldier,
the commander's dream through the ages.
Incapable of fear.
Impervious to pain,
and dedicated only to the effective dispensing of death.
Sir, I can see the presidential party now.
Now, sergeant.
West,
the cadre have absorbed their instructions.
They are now waiting to follow you.
Now as to your orders.
You will approach the president.
West.
Wait! I haven't finished yet.
West, dismount. Do you hear?
West!
That way, sergeant.
Hyah.
What did you stop them for, sergeant?
We were just having some fun.
I've got one more order
that you can take to your death with you, West.
Seek out and destroy.
Artie!
Well done, Mr. West.
It seems I shall have to fall back on my master plan
of destroying Mr. Grant, after all.
After destroying you, of course, you understand.
I thought that's what you had in mind.
You cheated me!
You robbed me of the dream I cherished for years.
It wasn't yours to cherish.
So the dream is gone.
All that remains,
all that I want to do is dip my hands in your blood!
Come out, Mr. West. It'll do you no good to hide.
Sergeant Trask! Attention!
Aagh!
You all right?
Yeah. Never better, Artie.
You know, no one will ever know
how close the president came to disaster.
Yep, they'll never know.
It will all seem so casual in the newspapers.
"The president paid an unexpected visit
to the territorial governor."
"A trip that, like so many others,
was pleasantly rewarding, but totally uneventful."
Newspaper item.
"Professor Frimm and Sergeant Stryker
"have been sentenced to the territorial penitentiary
"for life.
"According to the sentencing judge,
they should have been-"
Boiled in oil.
Isn't that a little too severe, Artie?
No. That's the only way I can generate enough heat
to get the impurities out of the catalytic agent.
Oh. Well, I don't suppose it's terribly important,
but I was talking about the trial
of General Trask's playmates.
What?
Oh, no. I'm talking about getting the impurities out
of this knockout-gas formula.
Why? If you'll excuse the expression,
it did a knockout job on the cadre.
No, it didn't. There was too much smoke.
I'm trying to get it
so it's completely odorless and colorless.
What was that?
We're slowing down to take on water.
Go on with what you were saying.
Well, I'm merely saying that as good
as that knockout-gas formula was,
it would be even better if we could eliminate the...
Eliminate the telltale signs...
The telltees...
Go on.
Artie, will you go on with what you were s-
Congratulations, Artie. You've done it.