Episode 7

♪ ♪ MAN: The captain of the SS Carnatic has reported Mr. Fogg as missing at sea and feared dead.

Fogg is dead?

♪ ♪ Help!

Help!

ABIGAIL: Who was that man with the gun?

Why would he do this to us?

FORTESCUE: My daughter, she was traveling with Mr. Fogg.

MAN: One of the other two people missing is a woman, Miss Abigail Fix.

(breath trembling) PHILEAS: You were right about Bellamy, Passepartout.

Who else has a motive to sabotage our trip?

He's not a bad sort.

BELLAMY: I don't need to tell anybody here what kind of man Phileas Fogg was because you all knew him.

The very best kind of man.

PHILEAS: I'm most ashamed of abandoning Estella like that.

And I have never felt that same close bond with anyone again.

Not until this trip, with you two.

♪ ♪ PASSEPARTOUT: That's how we say good night in France.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (horses whinny, galloping) ♪ ♪ (coach driver exclaims) Hey!

♪ ♪ This is impossible!

Worse than that lifeboat.

This'll save us a whole day!

Ooh!

Sorry.

Sorry.

(driver exclaims) (breathes deeply) (pocket watch opens) (ticking) PASSEPARTOUT: You know, looking at that won't make us go any faster.

The guard on the train said the Transcontinental stopped at Iron Point to repair an axle.

He estimated an eight-hour delay.

So, we're in Battle Mountain sometime after 5:00.

That was his "best guess."

Lot riding on guesswork.

Informed guesswork, also known as planning ahead.

♪ ♪ (neighing) ♪ ♪ ABIGAIL: This planning involve bringing any food with us?

(horses neighing, driver exclaims) (horses whinnying) Is this all we have?

Between leaving the ship and boarding the train in San Francisco, we had 30 minutes.

I'm sorry I didn't have time to prepare a picnic.

There was all that business with the luggage, too.

PASSEPARTOUT: You only had to reclaim yours.

I had to go buy a whole new outfit.

Yes, I suppose that does excuse it.

The picnic?

No, the...

I can't believe the shipping company just gave away your clothes.

Donated to a sailor's charity.

At least it went to a good cause.

At this rate, my trousers will make it round the world before we do.

(chuckles) ♪ ♪ (horse exhales) (softly): Whoa.

(carriage rumbling, horses whinnying in distance) ♪ ♪ (fires) (horses neighing in fright) (horse whinnies) ♪ ♪ No need for that.

SALLY: Your hands ain't empty.

What you want?

Need a ride.

(cocks rifle): Ain't my problem, mister.

It is now.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (flies buzzing) Why've we stopped?

Who are you?

Name's Bass Reeves.

U.S. deputy marshal.

Lost one horse to a rattler.

Was heading for the railroad at Battle Mountain.

Taking this man back to Louisiana to stand trial.

For what?

Violation of civil rights.

ABIGAIL: What does that mean?

It's a political invention.

To stop people complaining about the treatment of the South since the war.

The war you lost.

I'm a gentleman, sir.

A man of honor.

This is a ridiculous conspiracy.

Judge'll decide that.

(horse nickers) REEVES: Looks like you're heading the same way.

Can take us into town.

SALLY: Not so fast, mister.

You two look like trouble in a box to me.

I ain't asking.

I'm insisting.

This is Mr. Fogg's hire.

His call, I guess.

(flies buzz, horse neighs) Well, um... More weight slows us down.

He's a U.S. marshal.

On government business.

SALLY: With a dangerous criminal.

Don't be ridiculous, woman.

(cocking rifles) Call me ridiculous one more time.

I wouldn't do that, ma'am.

Call me ma'am again and you're next.

♪ ♪ REEVES: I'm ready to fight.

Now, stop!

We're wasting time here.

So, the marshal?

We can't just leave him out here.

SALLY: We sure can.

Then I'll put you all on the federal wanted list soon as I make town.

(horse nickers) All right, fine.

Can we please just get going?

Your funeral.

Much obliged.

Get in there.

I said, "Get in there."

Right, I'll... ♪ ♪ Colonel Ambrose Abernathy.

Phileas Fogg.

Fogg?

The adventurer?

Um... Well, yes, I suppose.

So this must be... My companions, Abigail Fix, journalist, and Passepartout.

I've been reading about you in the newspapers.

Really?

ABERNATHY: But they said you were all dead.

What?

Dead?

When?

Read it in "The New York Times" about a week ago.

Paper probably came out about a week before that.

Dead?

"Missing and presumed drowned."

Did it say anything else?

I think there was something from Miss Fix's father.

Fortescue?

What did he say?

That he was "heartbroken with grief," if I recall.

I told you we should have telegrammed from San Francisco.

There was no time.

At Battle Mountain, then.

So Bellamy can send someone to kill us again?

But my poor father!

Is not in danger.

It's safer for us to stay dead.

Someone tried to kill you?

Yes.

No.

It was a misunderstanding-- he's actually an old friend.

Old friends do not hire assassins.

Passepartout might be right.

Sending a telegram might stir things up.

But...

I'll sort it out when I get back.

Man to man.

(people talking in background, horse trotting) (bell chiming hour) Mr. Bellamy?

What do you want?

That is a court warrant for debt.

Pay up, or you'll be seeing me again.

Very soon.

♪ ♪ (horses neighing) Take a good look, if you like.

I'm so sorry.

Forgive me.

Um... Did you get that in the war?

From when I was a slave.

You were a slave?

So how would you end up a U.S. marshal?

Escaped from Texas when the war started.

North into Oklahoma.

Hid out in the Indian Territories till it was safe.

Took to farming, but the government thought escaping from the South and living with the Cherokee meant that I might be useful.

Made me the first Black man west of Mississippi with this badge.

PHILEAS: We're a long way from Oklahoma.

Special tracking job.

Recovering this fugitive.

Is he important?

Not any more.

♪ ♪ (horses approaching) (exhales) One on horseback, one on foot now.

Looks like Reeves got the colonel walking.

Just gonna make 'em easier to catch.

Now let's go!

♪ ♪ Why've we stopped?

Water-- horses need a drink.

PHILEAS: Will it take long?

SALLY: You know how these things are, Mr. Fogg.

Some things just can't be rushed.

All right.

Time to stretch your legs, folks.

DRIVER: Howdy.

(wildlife chirping and calling) ABERNATHY: Your associate, Mr. Fogg.

French?

Passepartout, yeah.

I thought the English despised the French.

Well, not individually.

(chuckles) I'm a great admirer of your country.

We share the same values, I think.

Honor.

And order.

Order?

A place for everyone.

Everyone in their place.

ABIGAIL: So, Miss Sally, have you ever thought about finding yourself a husband?

Course.

Soon as I can find myself a man who'll let me carry on doing whatever the hell I like.

(chuckles) But I ain't holding my breath.

(both laugh) (water sloshing) PASSEPARTOUT: Abernathy-- is he actually dangerous?

Some white folks down in Tennessee formed a secret society.

Dressed up in robes and hoods.

Call themselves the Klan.

(laughs): The what?

No joke.

They put their masks on, and they go out murdering Black folk.

(bird screeches in distance) Abernathy?

One of the ringleaders.

People like to think that the war settled all this, but men like that don't change.

♪ ♪ Only now, they work in the shadows.

REEVES (voiceover): Wear hoods.

But given half the chance... ♪ ♪ PHILEAS: Come on, we're going to miss this blasted train.

ABIGAIL: Right, here we go.

(horse nickering) (laughs) The young lady.

Do you know her father?

Fortescue, yes.

We were at school together.

Good friend.

Then you should be more mindful of your duty.

My duty?

To protect her reputation.

From what?

The French boy.

Pardon?

Can't you see how intimate they are?

What?

No!

I mean, they've been...

Hold on, intimate-- what?

You've been negligent, sir.

Negligent!

What would you call it?

You think Fix and Passepartout...

It's obvious.

Really?

And what would Fortescue say?

His daughter with a man like that.

(talking faintly in distance) PHILEAS: I mean, um... Passepartout-- it's hard to believe.

Believe it, Mr. Fogg.

Then do something about it.

♪ ♪ Anything happens, get yourself out of the way.

You and your friends.

What about you?

I had to fight for the chance to live as a free man.

People like Abernathy want to take that away, I'm ready to fight again.

You sound like my brother.

Died fighting for his cause.

If something matters enough.

I'm not sure there's anything I'd be willing to die for.

You can't say.

Moment comes, you just know.

But not up here.

In here.

♪ ♪ SALLY: All right, folks.

Back on board!

Finally!

So, if there are no delays, we should still arrive in time.

SALLY: Hurry up, Mr. Fogg.

Don't be slowing us down now.

Me?

I mean... Come on.

ABIGAIL: Don't argue with the woman.

She's got a rifle.

And her sights might be set on you.

♪ ♪ ROBINSON: Looks like they hooked up with a stage.

We're gaining on 'em!

They're headed for Battle Mountain!

Must be fixing to catch a train east.

(urges horse) ♪ ♪ Single-action Colt?

It is.

Peacemaker.

May I?

It's very nice.

My father taught me to shoot his old Army pistol when I was 12.

Don't know what prompted him.

Fathers always worry about their little girls.

Makes it easier knowing they can shoot the eyes of a rattlesnake.

(chuckling) I'm not sure it's the rattlesnakes he needs to be worrying about.

Here.

Try this one.

Colt .22 pocket pistol.

It's very elegant.

That's because it's mine.

Looks fancy.

But kills people.

Keep it.

Safer with you than with him.

♪ ♪ (knocking) SALLY: Battle Mountain, up ahead!

(pocket watch opens) Let's pray the calculations about the broken axle were accurate.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (people talking and calling in background) ♪ ♪ Everybody ready?

We're here.

The Transcontinental, is it on time?

The Transcontinental?

Have we missed it?

It's due half past five, sir.

Ah, it worked!

We made it, well done!

(grunts): Good!

(horse whinnies) (Passepartout exhales) (background conversations stop) (horse neighs) Causing quite a stir.

Yeah, maybe they've never seen a Frenchman before.

Maybe it's the suit.

PHILEAS: We made it-- I told you!

I think you'll find I told you.

Ah, well, we still have 30 minutes.

So we have time to eat, thank God!

Oh, um, saloon along the street'll do you something if you ain't too fussy.

O, bien!

What are we waiting for?

Oh, I'll be heading back to Mill City.

Then time to say goodbye, thank you.

Pleasure.

You got real soft hands, Mr. Fogg.

Thank you!

Thank you.

Au revoir.

♪ ♪ We are going inside.

ABERNATHY: Black man with a gun.

You're scaring people, Marshal.

Less talkin', more walkin'.

ABERNATHY: Thought any more about your French problem?

PHILEAS: Yes, I have as a matter of fact.

So what are you going to do?

I'm going to leave them alone.

Pardon?

Can't be easy for them, I mean, with me constantly playing gooseberry.

Are you joking?

You need to end it, not encourage it!

Ah, Passepartout is a fine young man.

Miss Fix is a fine young white woman!

So all this talk of "shared values," this is what you meant.

Confederate values, sir.

Where everyone knows their place.

"Violation of civil rights"?

Murder and intimidation.

ABERNATHY: Had you as a man of vision, Fogg.

But your globe-trotting has corrupted you.

You've seen the world, but you've understood nothing!

REEVES: Shut up!

Till I ask you!

Drink up, boys-- bar's closed!

(customers murmuring) PASSEPARTOUT (voiceover): Abernathy thinks you and I, thinks we're too... Too comfortable with each other.

How do you know?

I heard him talking to Fogg at the water stop.

About us?

He told Fogg to keep us apart.

ABIGAIL: Mr. Fogg?

What were you discussing with Abernathy at the water hole?

Um...

Pardon?

I heard you.

We were just talking.

About me?

Not just you.

Me, too.

The thing is, I hadn't realized... How dare you!

Look, Abernathy asked me what was going on with you two...

It's none of his business!

There's nothing going on!

(exhales): Is there?

You seem pretty certain.

Abernathy said it was obvious.

Obvious?

I thought he was worried about Fortescue, but really... My father?

...turns out he was only trying to... You were discussing me and my father with a criminal?

No, no-- no.

Um, no.

That, that, no, he was, he was discussing you with me.

How was it obvious?

I don't know, it wasn't to me!

Or to you, apparently.

But I thought...

So then there is something!

I.. No.

Why is everyone being... People should mind their own business.

(exhales) You're a journalist.

Right, that's it.

Where are you going?

I don't know.

Maybe I'll go ride shotgun on a stagecoach.

Abigail?

Keep your nose out of my affairs!

I...

When she says "affairs"... ♪ ♪ ABERNATHY: Where I come from, look like that gets a boy like you hung.

And where I come from, a mouth like that gets a man like you punched.

Don't rise to it.

It's what he wants.

(blows out) And you, sir.

You need to work out which side you're on.

I know which side I'm on.

The one that stands up to people like you.

Could we see the menu, please?

Bacon.

Beans.

Or bacon and beans.

Are you going to ask him for the wine list, too?

Then, bacon and beans.

For five, thank you.

(blows out) We are in something of a hurry.

Everybody's in a hurry.

Right.

Very good.

♪ ♪ (horses neighing) That way-- meet us back at the station.

(urges horse) All done.

London, England!

Furthest I ever sent before is Chicago.

I have something else, too.

Sure, I'll tell them there's more coming.

ROBINSON (on street): Hey, move-- out of my way.

Seen any strangers in town?

Try the saloon.

ROBINSON: Is it done?

Yeah.

Let's get ourselves a drink.

(urges horse) Something wrong?

I've lost the line.

Can't send or receive now.

I got your first message out, and then everything just went dead.

Someone's cut the wire.

What does that mean?

Means either the bank's about to get robbed or somebody's about to get killed.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (bell chiming hour in distance) Fortescue?

What on Earth are you doing?

(door closes) Do you know what time it is?

Fortescue.

(sighs) (sighs): For God's sake, man.

This is pathetic.

(sighs) Do you think Abigail would want to see you like this?

(chuckles bitterly): Abigail's gone.

Well, what about poor old Fogg?

Don't you think we ought to do right by him?

What are you talking about?

You're his executor.

His affairs need to be settled.

What does it matter?

Foggy's dead, too.

(breathing heavily) Does anything matter?

Oh, of course it matters.

It's important.

You need to settle the wager.

Phileas is dead.

You can't still expect him to pay you!

But I can.

I must.

It's a matter of honor-- of Fogg's honor.

You don't want to tarnish his reputation as a gentleman, do you?

Well, no, no, of course not.

Look, why don't I make an appointment with Fogg's solicitors?

We can go together, get the ball rolling.

What do you say?

Well, I... Good, excellent.

And for God's sake...

Pull yourself together, man, and go home.

(footsteps retreating) (door opens and closes) ♪ ♪ (woman murmuring) (doors closing) (dog barking in distance) (horse nickers) PHILEAS: Thank you.

Looks lovely.

Bon appétit, monsieur.

And to you.

(plates clatter on table) Took long enough.

(door creaks open) (spurs jangling) Whiskey.

(cocks rifle) REEVES: Bar's shut.

What you gonna do with that?

Shoot.

(scoffs) I don't think so.

Why not?

Because then my friend will kill you and those two behind you.

(gun cocks) ♪ ♪ (gun cocks) (guns cocking) ABERNATHY: Drop your weapon, Marshal.

Natural order has been restored.

(footsteps tapping) PHILEAS: Why don't you just go, get away?

Oh, I will.

But first, there's going to be a reckoning.

What does that mean?

Sergeant, do you still carry that switchblade?

Oh, yes, sir.

What are you going to do to me?

To you?

Nothing.

The question is, what are you going to do to him?

♪ ♪ (exhales) I won't do it-- I can't.

Oh, I think you will, Mr. Fogg.

Otherwise, three people are gonna die here.

(gun cocks) Not just these two.

Like I said, you need to work out which side you're on.

(horse neighing) ABERNATHY Pick up the knife, Mr. Fogg.

(panting) ABERNATHY (inside): Now, I'm gonna make this easy.

Let's go for a finger.

(chuckles) One of the French boy's fingers.

And you can walk out of here.

I'd say that was a generous offer.

Wouldn't you?

Not so mouthy now, are you, boy?

(inhales sharply) Do it.

What?

Do as he says, then get out of here, look after Fix.

What?

It's not you.

It's him-- do it.

(pounds table, panting) (shouts) Get on with it, then.

(breath trembling) It's all right.

(breathing heavily): It's fine, you can do this.

(breathing audibly) ♪ ♪ (inhaling sharply) ♪ ♪ Stop!

(yelps, panting): What?

I haven't done anything!

If you are going to cut, make sure it is clean.

You know, like an axe.

Don't saw at it like you do with a steak.

You're not carving a roast.

Carving a roast?

What's he talking about?

This man is English.

He lives on boiled beef and brown Windsor soup.

He never slices anything more difficult than toast!

(cocks gun) So, if he's going to do this, I just want him to be prepared.

♪ ♪ (softly): Just be prepared.

♪ ♪ (horse neighing) (man cries out) ♪ ♪ (fires) (yelps) (cocks, fires) (yelps) (horse whinnies) (gun firing, glass shattering) (exclaims) (fires) ♪ ♪ (pistol clicking) (cocks gun) (gasping) ROBINSON: Out of bullets?

(firing) ♪ ♪ REEVES: Stay down!

♪ ♪ (gun firing) ROBINSON: Oh, I got you now, girl.

Show me that pretty little head.

♪ ♪ (grunts) (panting) (winces) Huh... ♪ ♪ REEVES: Here!

♪ ♪ (gun fires) ♪ ♪ (fires) (panting) (all panting) (coughs) (gasps) ♪ ♪ (grunting) ♪ ♪ (Passepartout shouts) (grunts) (man yelps) (grunts) (hisses out air) (gasping) (panting) Are you all right?

I'm fine, but you, I thought...

I... No, wait.

REEVES: Abernathy's gone.

I gotta get after him.

We've got to get after him.

REEVES: You gotta go-- this ain't your fight.

PASSEPARTOUT: Yes, it is.

Ours, too.

Yes.

All right.

Mr. Fogg, you're with me.

Very good.

We'll take the front, you two take the back.

Swoop down towards the station.

Fire a shot if you see him.

Don't take any chances.

You ready?

Well, let's find out.

You stay there, you stay there.

Here.

(grunting) (groaning) Stay here, watch him.

Cover straight down this way.

On my own?

Holler if you see anything.

I gotta check down here.

All right.

You'll be fine.

(groaning) (grunting) (metallic squeaking) (dog barks in distance, Davis coughs) (grunts, spits) (Davis coughs) (animal chittering in distance) (breathing heavily) (door creaking) (dog barks in distance) (door creaks) (breathing shakily) (distant thud) (thudding continues) Stop!

Drop the pistol and turn around.

(breathing heavily) Well, if it isn't Mr. Fogg.

Drop the gun.

I said drop it.

Or what?

♪ ♪ Are you gonna shoot me?

Takes guts to kill a man face to face.

You think you have the stomach for it?

Yeah, had you pegged as a coward.

(inhales sharply) Drop it.

♪ ♪ (gun thuds) (breathing shakily) Would you have done it?

Tell me!

PASSEPARTOUT: If he wouldn't, I certainly will.

(cocks gun) You can't.

I'm unarmed.

(grunts) When did that ever stop you?

Hmm?

REEVES: No, my friend.

Let's deal in justice... Not revenge.

We gotta be better than his kind.

(breathing shakily) (exhales) (breathing heavily) I'm wounded.

I need a doctor.

REEVES: Don't worry.

(grunts) You'll get everything you deserve.

Nice work, Mr. Fogg.

To be honest, I'm not sure I could've, you know... REEVES: You got him, that's all that matters.

Can't take a Winchester into the Reform Club, can I?

Can I?

No, no.

(animal chittering) The gun don't make the man.

Does it get any easier?

Standing up to people like that?

Does if there are people who'll stand with you.

Reckon I've got a few things to tidy up round here now before I head out.

But, uh... (train whistle blares) shouldn't you people be... Oh, my Lord!

♪ ♪ (horse whinnies) When you came in on that horse...

I saved your life.

True.

And I saved yours.

Lucky for both of us.

But the world is full of Abernathys.

And Kneedlings.

And Bellamys.

And Bass Reeves.

And Phileas Fogg.

And Jean Passepartout.

♪ ♪ (horse nickers) PHILEAS: What are you doing?

We've got a train to catch, we're heading home!

Come on!

Just a train ride and a boat trip.

What could possibly go wrong?

(laughs) ♪ ♪ (watch clicks) We're going to be late.

FORTESCUE: There's no rush.

The meeting is at 5:00, it's already a quarter to.

I don't even know why you need to come with me, Bellamy.

Well, I thought you might appreciate some help with the details.

Wills can be complicated things.

ROBERTS: Telegram for you, Mr. Fortescue.

Oh, God.

Oh, thank you, Roberts.

(sighs) You can read it on the way.

(gasps) What on earth is it?

(exhales in relief) "Reports exaggerate.

All... "All are alive!

(sniffling) "En route to New York.

London soon, Abigail."

They're alive!

All of them!

Alive!

Abigail!

And Fogg!

(shouting): They're alive!

And heading for New York!

(all cheering and clapping) (applause continues) (shouting and cheering) MAN: Hip, hip... ALL: Hooray!

MAN: Hip, hip!

ALL: Hooray!

(distant cheering) MAN: Bring out the best!

ABIGAIL: New York City, at last.

First thing is to book a passage on the fastest boat possible.

What's this?

(people clamoring) JOURNALIST: Mr. Fogg!

You think you can still win the wager?

Of course he can.

JOURNALIST: Is it true that you captured a dangerous fugitive single-handed?

Single-handed?

♪ ♪ How long are you staying?

Miss Fix, have you heard from your father?

(indistinct clamoring continues) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (clamoring continues) (clamoring ends) ♪ ♪ PHILEAS: We have traveled around the world in very nearly 80 days.

HUGHES: You sound very confident that your friend will fail.

Supremely confident.

He's not the same man we started out with.

You know that as well as I.

(yelling): I am Phileas Fogg!

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