The Call of the Wild

Synopsis: A house dog is abducted and brought to the north as a sled dog.
 
IMDB:
6.0
PG
Year:
1972
100 min
2,742 Views


Whoa!

Mush!

Now beat it!

All right, I'll leave,

If thats the way you feel about it.

But I'll leave like a gentleman.

Quiet, everybody! Ladies and gentlemen,

your attention, please!

Youre about to take your last look

at Mr. Thorntons handsome, smiling face.

So make the most of it, you weasels!

But, as a last insane gesture,

Mr. Thornton wants you all to step up to

the bar and have a drink with him!

Are you ready? Lets go!

To the bar, everybody

There you are!

Hi ya, Tex.

Hi ya, dude.

The boys are telling me youre going home.

Yep. Catching tomorrows Boat

Well, theres no use in wishing you luck.

I guess youve had plenty.

Give me Michigan Avenue

on a hot afternoon

and you can have all the yellow dust

this side of Seattle.

I guess we all feel the same way, kid.

it seems that all the home sick guys

in the world came up here.

Put this away for me. Its wearing me down.

Sure thing.

- Ah, they been kind of running against you.

- Yeah. Oh, thanks.

Give us a couple more stacks. Heres where

Im apt to earn my fare back to Seattle.

There you are.

Did I say Seattle?

Youd better quit while you still have

the price of a pick and shovel, dude.

Whats the matter?

You want your grave dug?

Give us some action! Im buying!

Well, the hot seat went cold, eh?

Better luck next time, dude.

Yeah. Yeah, I hope so. Well, so long, fellas

So long.

- So long, dude.

Russ, my stomach wants to know

how is my credit?

Well, if your stomachs

as good as your credit,

You'll live to be 100.

Thanks. Did I ever tell you

about my grandpa?

Died when he was 106.

- What interrupted his youth?

- He quit drinking.

So they cleaned you out, eh?

Thats tough.

Ah, theres a lot more where that came from.

Whats the matter, Mr. Thornton?

Aint you speakin to your pals

since you got rich?

Well, hello, Shorty! How are ya?

- Have a stimulant.

- Thanks.

- Whend you get out?

- This afternoon.

These bastilles up here aint as cozy

as them stirs down in little ol New York.

The finest jailhouse I ever seen

was the Coney Island precinct.

They sent you up

for opening the mail, didnt they?

Shh! Shh!

That was a miscarriage of justice.

Listen... Ah!

All I did on that mall route

was peek in a couple of those bills due.

It gets darned lonesome on the trail there

I was as innocent-like as if I was

sittin in the New York Public Library.

Letters are supposed

to be private, even up here.

Well, if I wasnt honest trying to seal

it up, I wouldnt have got caught.

- Thats too bad.

- Well, I wouldnt say that.

That letter I opened was very interesting.

Yeah?

Yeah. If youd have saved

a bit of your bankroll,

Id have cut you in on something

- Oh. More mail?

- Yes and no.

That letter I opened

was worth about a million bucks.

Thanks very much for the snort-ola

See ya around sometime.

Hey, Shorty! Shorty! Wait a minute

Let me hear a little more

about that pipe dream of yours.

Pipe dream is right.

I been dreaming about this for six months

up in that cold Arctic can.

Yeah? What do you need a bankroll for?

Well, I...

Hey, youse guys! Get outta here!

23 skidoo!

Boo!

I need a bankroll to grubstake us

as for as Dawson City

And then a long way beyond that

- Yeah? That sounds interesting.

- You know something?

When they caught me opening those letters,

and the judge presented me

with six months,

or, as the English jockeys say,

a dozen fortnights,

well, that judge asked me

a lot of silly questions,

like how many letters Id jimmied

etc, etc, etc!

- But theres one question he didnt ask me.

- Yeah?

He didnt ask me what was in that letter.

- Say, is your credit still good in there?

- I wouldnt be surprised.

- Come on. Lets go and exhaust it.

- Okay.

His name was Blake. Martin Blake.

He had red whiskers and well,

he was a little blind.

Oh, yeah, I remember. He was cracked.

- Told everybody hed found a rich lode.

- Thats the guy.

Well, he got sick on the trail

He was coming to Dawson City

to file his claim.

He wrote a letter to his son, John Blake,

in San Francisco.

He had a note on the envelope,

I said if anything happened to him,

the letter should be mailed.

Well, his number was up,

so the letter was mailed.

And you looked inside to be sure

everything was neat and in order.

Mmm. But there wasnt much of a letter.

It was mostly a map.

You made a copy?

As Im coming to the backstretch

with a pencil,

I feel the long arm

of John Law on my shoulder.

Did they take the copy away from you?

- Then you still have it?

- No again.

Well, what would you do with it?

I ate it!

When that map started to digest though,

see, it sort of went to my head.

Went to my brain.

So, while Im sitting up there

in the booby hatch,

I made a copy of it from memory!

Take off my boot.

Well, Ill show you.

I got a good memory too.

Course, theres a couple of things here

I dont quite figure out.

Now,

you see...

I dont know if this is

a mountain or a river.

And I think they said there was rapids here.

But I dont see how that could be

Because I dont remember no river up there!

Hey, listen, little man, the graveyards

up here is full of gold hopheads,

guys that smoked a pipe full of hope

had glittering yellow dreams and ended up

under a pile of rocks in frozen ground.

Me, I'll take bourbon.

Kills you slower,

but a lot more pleasant-like.

Now, wait a minute, Mr. Thornton.

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