:03:04
- Where are you going, Jerry?
- To the promised land!
:03:10
Man overboard!
:03:12
Pilot boat, ahoy!
Man overboard! Please pick him up!
:03:20
There they are at last, Miss Rutledge.
The will-o'-the-wisp lights of fortune.
:03:24
San Francisco,
the latest newborn of a great republic.
:03:28
I see a lot of fog and a few lights.
:03:31
I like it when life's hidden.
:03:33
It gives you a chance to imagine nice things.
:03:37
Nicer than they are.
:03:41
Listen to them.
:03:43
Men like to yell, don't they?
:03:45
They imagine they're millionaires already.
:03:48
More than that.
They've all left lives behind they didn't like.
:03:51
They all dream of being reborn in the new land.
:03:54
Do they? Or do they dream of gold?
:03:57
No, Miss Rutledge.
:03:59
Behind that fog lies
not only sand filled with gold...
:04:02
...but a new empire for men of vision.
:04:04
Men of vision! I love the fine names
men give each other...
:04:07
...to hide their greed and lust for adventure.
:04:11
I am amazed at your idealism, Col. Cobb.
:04:13
Newspaper men are either drunkards
or idealists, Miss Rutledge.
:04:17
I'm afraid I'm both.
:04:19
However soiled his hands...
:04:20
...the journalist goes staggering
through life with the beacon raised.
:04:23
Beg pardon, but there's not much time
to pay for your clearance papers.
:04:27
Nobody will be allowed off ship until they do.
:04:30
- How much is it?
- $45.
:04:32
Tell the purser I'll settle
before the ship leaves the port.
:04:35
Sorry, but there'll be no going ashore
unless it's paid.
:04:38
Here, young man, you get our luggage
and a boat to take us ashore.
:04:43
Yes, sir, thank you.
:04:45
Thank you, Colonel, I...
:04:47
A paltry sum to unlock the golden gates of
that new empire that lies behind the fog.
:04:53
Miss Rutledge, you'll pardon an old man
for interfering, but I'd like to help you.
:04:57
San Francisco is no place
for so fair a flower as yourself.