Barbary Coast

...but a new empire for men of vision.
Men of vision! I love the fine names
men give each other...

:04:07 hide their greed and lust for adventure.
I am amazed at your idealism, Col. Cobb.
Newspaper men are either drunkards
or idealists, Miss Rutledge.

I'm afraid I'm both.
However soiled his hands...
...the journalist goes staggering
through life with the beacon raised.

Beg pardon, but there's not much time
to pay for your clearance papers.

Nobody will be allowed off ship until they do.
- How much is it?
- $45.

Tell the purser I'll settle
before the ship leaves the port.

Sorry, but there'll be no going ashore
unless it's paid.

Here, young man, you get our luggage
and a boat to take us ashore.

Yes, sir, thank you.
Thank you, Colonel, I...
A paltry sum to unlock the golden gates of
that new empire that lies behind the fog.

Miss Rutledge, you'll pardon an old man
for interfering, but I'd like to help you.

San Francisco is no place
for so fair a flower as yourself.

Thank you for your offer of protection,
Col. Cobb...

...but I don't think I shall need it.
- Are you ready with the anchor?
- Aye, sir.

- Let her go!
- Aye, sir!

We're in, Colonel.
Boat's alongside, sir. This way.
Will you step aside please
and let the lady get in here?

Sufferin' snakes! A white woman!
How much to take us ashore?
- $50 apiece, in advance.
- $50? Why that's outrageous!

This is New Year's Eve, folks,
and them's New Year's Eve prices.

- I know, but...
- Colonel, it'll be paid when we get ashore.

Jumpin' Jehoshaphat! A white woman!