A round-trodd city, in the territory on West, had just one way to handle the killers and
the spoilers.
And that's with a U.S. Marshal and the smell of gun smoke.
The story of the violence that moved West with Young America.
The story of a man who moved with it.
Matt Dillon, United States Marshal.
Wanted for murder.
Clay Richards.
Age 31.
31.
Height 6 feet.
Eyes brown.
Hair red.
Eyes brown, hair red.
Hey, how'd you like me to print his picture on these notices?
I got a woodcut.
Let me show you.
Ernie!
Yup.
That's your Marshal a copy of that front page.
Interviewing Clay's wife yesterday, I noticed a tin type on the mantle.
Their wedding photograph.
So first thing you know, I snitched it.
That's very thoughtful.
Yeah.
Oh, I'll take it Ernie.
Yeah.
I'll stand up in front of me and carve me this woodcut.
Ain't she prime?
Ain't she just elegant?
Real elegant.
Good likeness, don't you think?
Of course, he was seven or eight years younger with the tin type.
Yeah, it's a good likeness.
Doesn't show what makes a law abiding man like him try to rob a bank.
Doesn't look like a man who murdered an old cashier and a Chinese cook who just happened
to be there.
But it's a good likeness.
Yes, there it is.
A picture like this sure dresses up the front page, don't it?
Yeah, it's a little masterpiece, Mr. Hightower, a notable contribution to the culture of Dutch
City.
Well, thank you, Marshal.
Does fetch the eye, don't it?
I'm printing an extra 500 copies of the weekly and I bet I sell them all.
Too bad the cashier's shot went wild.
If he'd managed to kill Clay or even wing him, I bet I could sell a thousand extra copies.
We must be thankful for the blessings we do receive, Mr. Hightower.
Oh, I am, Marshal, I am.
Why, just before it happened yesterday afternoon, I didn't know what I was going to fill my
columns with and then, like manna from heaven, two murders and a bank robbery.
Attempted bank robbery, Mr. Hightower.
He turned and ran before he got his hands on so much as a dollar.
Still, as you say, like manna.
Dillon, I...
I'm talking business.
What is it, Chester?
Wait, wait, wait, I guess, Mr. Dillon?
Yeah, print Clay's picture on those notices, Mr. Hightower.
Oh, where were we?
Eyes brown, hair red.
Oh, yes.
Also known as Red, Brick Top, and Sorrow.
He didn't answer to no other nicknames, did he?
No, that's what they call him.
All right, then in big letters, $400 reward.
Dead or alive.
And at the bottom, apply Matt Dillon, Marshal, Dodge City.
I print 200 copies.
How soon can I send Chester over for him?
This afternoon.
Good morning, Mr. Hightower.
Chester.
Think those posters will do any good?
Richard is probably over the line in Oklahoma or Colorado by now.
And Strawberry Rona, his is the fastest in the county.
He has no money.
He panicked and ran out of the bank before he got a penny.
I think he'll try to get help from his wife or brother or a friend the first chance he
has, maybe tonight.
I say he's around here somewhere.
I am sorry I turned on you like that, Chester.
Why, that's all right, Mr. Dillon.
Out all night with a posse, no sleep, man's bound to get touchy.
No, it's not that.
It's the way...
It's the way people use a thing like this.
The men riding posse last night, they enjoyed it as though they were hunting fox or possum.
Hightower back there, he acts like it was a birthday treat, specially gotten up for him.
Everybody finds a way to use it.
What was it you wanted to tell me?
Oh, I got a kid, a little boy locked up in a cell who ran away from home back in Cottonwood.
Ed Slade turned him over to him when he come through on the stagecoach just now.
Kid about 12 years old.
Who's is he?
Widow woman, Miss Bonnie.
She runs a boarding house in Cottonwood.
Ed says kid's always running away, a little wild guess.
He flagged Ed for a ride on the road halfway between there and here.
Soon as Ed seen him stand there with his bundle on his shoulder, he know what he was up to.
So he told the kid he'd help him and then turn him over to us when he got here.
All right, we'll send a telegram to the mother to come fetch you.
Well come on in, Chester, and shut the door.
Mr. Dillon?
You're letting in ever horse fly in Kansas.
Mr. Dillon, I think you better cancel the order for them notices.
What?
A gentleman's coming up the street and he's eating a strawberry ron and Clay Richards
is draped across his back.
Like a sack of wheat across the saddle.
Last time I saw him, two days ago, he was standing at the bar laughing his head off.
A sack of wheat across the saddle and followed by half the saloon bums and loafers in town.
All right, Chester, make him keep back.
All right, now stand back, you fellas.
Come on now, back, stand back.
Ziegler?
How did it happen, Ziegler?
My goat, my old billy goat, he pushes open the fence last night and runs away.
Forget your goat, what about Clay?
Yeah, I tell you, this morning I go to look for the goat.
I walk here and there, near the river, I see Clay.
He sits there.
I say, hello, Clay, we get it.
I'm dirty Dutchman, you know the dog?
Clay was your best friend.
He helped you buy your farm so you'd kill him for the war.
All right, all of you, keep back, everybody.
Clay, me?
No, no, my brother, he was like, we were seen in the war together, bitterly.
You killed him for the war.
Not so.
I killed nobody, not since Gettysburg.
Clay is dead already when I find him.
I don't even own a pistol.
Ziegler, inside, quick.
Chester, give me a hand with Clay.
All right, all of you, listen up.
Shut up!
I will not tolerate a disturbance.
You know me.
I got him, Chester, take his legs.
All right, kick the door shut.
Marshal, I don't kill Clay.
On this table, Chester.
What did you do with Clay's gun?
His holster's empty.
Gun?
Clay's?
I ain't got it.
I don't even own one.
Chester, see if it slipped out.
His holster was empty coming up the street.
First thing I noticed.
Maybe it's over on that...
Another customer?
That's three in less than a day.
Oh, Bountiful Harvest.
My fees this month will keep me in luxury.
In luxury.
Doc, I want to have an inquest as soon as possible.
As soon as I finish the autopsy,
it shouldn't take long with the practice I've had this week.
No.
Late afternoon, all right with you?
I'll take him up to my office right now.
No, thank you, Chester.
I can carry him all by myself.
You just open the door there like a good fella.
Uh-oh.
Yeah, Marshal, tell the city fathers
I'd like to make a deal when the corpses are as famous as this one.
Back in 53 in San Francisco,
a fella I knew earned a fortune,
exhibiting the head of Joaquin Marietta.
Tell him if they let me keep the remains,
I'll do the autopsy for...
Shut the door, Chester.
Ziegler, where is it you met Clay on the river?
By the ford. This side by the ford.
Ride out there, Chester, and see if you can find Clay's gun.
Maybe he dropped it when he was shot.
I did not shoot Clay.
Sure.
I did not. I had no reason to. I did not. I did not.
Now, you listen to me.
Maybe you think Dodge has got so big,
I don't know about everything that goes on here.
Well, if you do, you're wrong.
If you think I don't know about the bank
having an overdue mortgage on your farm, you're wrong.
$400 is reason enough for a struggling farmer like you.
No! I could not do such a thing.
I am a human being.
To a peace officer, Ziegler, that's enough grounds for suspicion.
But whether you did it or not,
we've decided it's your trial.
In the meantime, you just stop yammering about it.
Trial? Me?
Even when I shoot somebody, I stand trial.
If they find it's justifiable homicide,
then they probably will.
Clay being a wanted man, then he'll let you off.
And if not...
Please, I am permitted to go now.
Go.
Are you crazy?
My farm, the stock, I must look after it.
You sit right down.
You want to be lynched?
You're trying to get yourself murdered
if you've forgotten about Clay's brother, Adam?
Adam would not believe I shot him.
What difference does it make whether he believes it or not?
His brother's been killed.
Everybody's looking to him to do something about it,
and he knows it.
You want me to guess where he is right this minute?
He's in one of them saloons lapping up courage
to come in here and ask me to give you to him for a present.
You want to know who's with him?
Ever a loafer, ever a bum, ever a slob in town,
slapping him on the back and telling him what a shame it is,
taking him on to kill you so that they can have some excitement
and some fun?
Well, maybe you deserve killing,
but it's my job to uphold the law,
and I'm not letting you out of here.
What? I tell you...
You might spend your time trying to think up a better story.
That is, if you intend to stay in this town.
All right, now think back.
Didn't Clay go for his gun before you shot him?
I tell you, I didn't.
If I'm not under arrest, you have no right to keep me here.
I got to look after my farm. I go.
All right, Chester, lock him up.
Yes, sir, Mr. Dillon.
Come on, now, is he good?
Help me, sir. Help me, sir.
Step out, sonny. This cage is bespoke.
Who's in there, Chester?
That little old runaway from Cottonwood.
Oh.
Come over here, son.
Come over here to me here.
I know who you are.
You do, do you?
You bet. You're Matt Dillon.
Yeah, I'm guilty.
I knowed you right off.
He was pointed out to me one day back home.
Filler says you was the fastest gun thrower in Kansas.
Wyatt Earp wouldn't be awful interested to hear that, I'm afraid.
Filler says you was faster than Old Earp,
faster than Wild Bill Hickok in Hay City
and Batten Masterson or any of them.
How many fellas have you killed?
You don't keep score, son.
It's something you try to forget.
Not me.
Someday I'll be famous like you,
and for every feller I kill, I'll put a notch on my gun.
People see those notches and they'll know they better not try.
Glad you ran away from home, bub.
Don't you know your mother's likely to worry about you?
Oh, she won't worry. She's too busy working.
You ain't gonna make me go back, are you?
You wouldn't do that, would you?
Well...
Because it wouldn't stop me for long. I'd only run away again.
Who are you off to in such a sweat?
Oh, Texas, California, Mexico.
Filler can accomplish things there, not like living in old cottonwood.
If you let me go, someday when I'm famous,
you can tell people you helped get me started.
Well, that's a pretty strong inducement.
I'll have to think about it for a while.
And look, while I'm making up my mind,
I want you to give me your word,
the word of a man who'll be famous someday,
that he won't try to run away from me.
Otherwise, I'll have to have Chester lock you up again.
I'll shake on that.
Good, good.
Chester, I want you to go look for Clay's gun.
Yes, Mr. Dillon.
And on the way, stop off and send that telegram.
You know?
Oh, that telegram.
Yes, Mr. Dillon.
Where's Sinkler?
It's all right, Chester.
Go ahead.
Yes, Mr. Dillon.
Where's that murdering dog?
Oh, there you are.
Not a single step further, Adam.
I warned him, Dillon.
He murdered Clay, shot him down without giving him a chance.
How do you know?
Because Clay wouldn't have let anyone catch him off guard,
except a friend.
A friend.
Now, Dillon, give me that Dutchman.
Try to take him.
Just like that?
It's like that.
And it's true what the fellas say.
You made a deal with the Dutchman to give him the reward
and protect him if he killed Clay for you.
That was the deal, wasn't it?
Yeah.
The fellas say why I'd make such a deal?
Dillon, it ain't no longer a secret around town
that you and Francie weren't each other.
But Clay was in the way.
You had him killed so you could get his wife.
Do you deny it?
No.
It'll serve as well as any other crazy story to work you up.
You think you're safe behind that star, don't you?
Well, Clay had friends, lots of them.
I'm coming back with them, friends,
and we'll get the Dutchman and you and anyone else
who tries to stop us.
All right, Adam.
I'll be waiting.
Yeah.
You wait.
Whew.
I almost seen something pretty just then,
didn't I, Mr. Dillon?
Yeah, almost.
But another pint of whiskey ought to do it.
We will return for the second act of gun smoke in just a moment,
but first, many radio shows win high popularity
with the prizes and cash they give away.
But there's one show that stops because the head man
gives away as little as possible.
What other radio program could it be but the Jack Benny show?
So be listening.
Here's the second act of gun smoke.
The Jack Benny Show
Son.
Can you say something, Mr. Dillon?
Yeah, I'll hold my drawer in front of you there.
You'll find a small bottle of oil in there.
No, no, the one on the right.
Yeah, that's it.
Now bring a little brush, too, huh?
Here it is.
Thanks, bub.
That's the right nice gun you have.
It's not bad, but a little stiff, just a little stiff.
Do you want to have a trigger?
I never seen no gun without a trigger before.
Oh, you remove a trigger or tie it back against the guard.
And all you have to do is a thumb hammer.
Like that.
It's faster.
Yeah, that's better now.
Remove the trigger.
I remember that.
What in the world for?
I remember everything you told me about the Texas holster
and the spring holster and the double roll and filing off the site.
It's just me, Mr. Dillon.
Oh, any luck, Chester?
No, sir, not any.
I went to the store first and asked Mr. Denton what kind of ammunition
Clay Richard used to buy, and he told me Clay had a double action 44.
I escarged that river bank a half mile each way from the Ford
and not a sign of it.
I got that telegram off.
You know who ought to be here pretty soon.
Only seven, eight miles from...
Is that fire in town?
Funeral services for Mr. Grinnell, cashier.
So soon?
It's awful hot weather.
Yeah.
Any of your guns need oiling, Chester?
I don't think so.
You sure?
When Adam left, he said he'd be coming back with some friends.
I know.
I stopped at the alopegan to just now to rinse out my mouth.
Adam was there talking mighty ugly and mighty big.
He's got a sizeable following.
When, do you think?
Any minute now, Mr. Dillon.
It want me to take Bob out of here to one of the hotels, maybe?
I want to see it.
I think you'll be safer here, Chester, behind stone walls
and dodging about the streets rubbing-nicking.
You keep your head down, sonny. You hear?
Math! Math, I've got to talk to you.
She ought to be in mourning.
If she cared for Clay at all anymore, she ought to be in black.
Math!
Oh, Lord, I find her more beautiful all the time.
Math, have you heard what they're saying?
What are they saying, Francie?
That you and me, that you made Pete Ziegler kill him because...
I'm sorry that got back to you, Francie.
It's all over Dodge.
Adam almost strangled me before they dragged him off.
Francie, I didn't shoot Clay. Francie, I beg you, believe me.
That was the...
Shut up, Ziegler!
Shut up or I'll put you to death!
Francie is just one of those crazy stories.
They needed one and they made one up.
But, Math, everyone believes it.
On my way down here, people were pointing, whispering.
Old women clucking their tongues at me. They believe it.
They'll forget it as soon as this is over.
They'll remember that even if we once did go with each other,
it was finished and done with even before the war ended,
before you even met Clay.
No, they won't forget it for the rest of my life.
As long as I stay here, I'll...
Hold it a minute, Francie.
Yeah, Doc, what is it?
Oh, am I interrupting?
What is it, Doc?
Our tops is finished. I examined his liver and lights...
This is Mrs. Richards, Doc.
Oh, I beg your pardon, ma'am. I'm sure I made no disrespect for the department.
Well?
Well, Clay was shot all right, but from the nature of the wound
and the coagulation of the blood, I'd say it happened sometime yesterday.
I'd say the cashier's bullet didn't go wild after all.
How could a dead man gallop away?
Well, the wound wasn't what killed Clay.
The ball hit the ribcage and bounced off.
22 calibre it was.
What did kill him was the stab in the back, right through the spine.
Inflicted sometime this morning.
Now, near as I can judge by a small blade, old through three inches long.
It could have been a Barlow knife.
Thanks, Doc.
Please accept my condolences, Mrs. Richards.
You call the inquest any time you're ready, Marshal.
Chester, close the door.
You see? You see, I didn't do it. I didn't shoot him.
All right, then you stabbed him, maybe. You said you never carried a gun.
Look, Francie, go home and give matters a chance to simmer down.
Matt, I'm going to ask you for something.
Yeah?
Turn Pete Ziegler out into the street.
What?
Francie, they're itching to get their hands on him.
Let him have him.
It'll prove that story's a lie, that you didn't make a deal with him.
Please, Matt, I have to live here.
Tell me, I have to live here.
Matt?
Don't look at me like that.
Go home, Francie.
Go home or leave town or hang yourself or anything you like.
Just go away.
No way. Right now.
I bought me a bottle of the alafagans, Mr. Dune. Would you care for a drink?
No.
I guess the funeral's over.
There'll be others.
Funny. Now I miss that bell.
Awful quiet, ain't it? It's just what...
Just about on schedule.
Are you ready, Chester?
Yes, sir, Mr. Dune.
I'd use a shotgun if I were you. It's more effective when there's a mob to be dealt with.
Oh, yes, sir. I ain't.
Ziegler, and you too, son.
If trouble starts, lie down flat on the floor and keep your head down all the time.
Don't gawk to see what's happening. You understand me?
Yes, sir, Mr. Dune.
All right.
Dylan! Dylan! Come on, Dylan!
Chester, I want you to stand here in the doorway after I go out,
where you can cover the back door and me at the same time.
Yes, sir, Mr. Dune.
All right, Chester. Open the door.
Come on, now.
It's my duty to warn all of you that you're in the breach of the peace.
I've sworn to uphold the law.
I've killed men in order to do it, and I'm prepared to do so again.
You're a Dutchman, Dylan.
Men!
I ask you to be sensible and to leave quietly.
But if you refuse to listen to reason, if you insist upon being fools,
if you've already decided to act like wolves instead of humans,
then there's nothing I can say to make you change your minds.
I'm a Dutchman.
All right, you want Peter Ziegler?
Well, he's not more than 20 feet behind me, so come on and get him, any of you.
One at a time are all it was. Come on!
Which one of you wants to die first? You?
You?
You, Adam?
Well, what do you say, Adam? You let him here.
Don't let this star on my coat stop you. Come on!
There, I'm not wearing it now.
Well, come on, draw, Adam, draw!
Get out of here!
Hold on, get in the whole street!
You all right, Mr. Dylan?
Yeah.
Get his gun.
Man, alive, I couldn't even see your hand move.
And my shelf? Oh, don't tell me! Don't tell me!
Doc, you make one single funny remark and I'll knock you down.
You just take him to your office and get to work.
I never do mean to offend, Marshal.
In my line of work, well, bodies, they're just so much lumber.
Make all the jokes about them you please, but not to me and not in my hearing.
In my line of work, there's nothing humorous about death.
Give him a hand, Chester.
You know, I can handle the Marshal. Thank you, thank you.
Just the same.
Can you direct me to the Marshal's office?
Yes, ma'am, right here. I'm Marshal Dylan.
I left Cottonwood as soon as I got your telegram.
I'm Miss Barney. Where's my boy?
Oh, we have him, ma'am. Safe and sound.
Here, let me help you down.
Thank you.
Hitch that horse, Chester. Right this way, ma'am.
Oh, I'm so sorry he put you in all that trouble, Marshal.
The truth of the matter is he is a wild one.
And no mistake, takes after his father one scrape after another.
He was no trouble at all.
I enjoy children. I like to have them around.
Bob? Bob, your ma's here.
Son? Chester, where's the boy? Did you let him slip past you?
No, sir, Mr. Dylan. He never got past me.
Look, the back door is open.
He seen me and he hightailed it, the devil.
We'll round him up for you, ma'am. Don't worry.
Oh, I don't know why I bother hauling him back.
If he's run away once, he's run away a thousand times.
This time he ran because I wouldn't buy him a gun.
He wanted a real one.
That boy's just gun crazy, I swear.
I got him a nice barlow knife instead.
Barlow knife?
I reckon it didn't signify and off he runs.
Barlow knife? That kid.
Chester finds that kid.
Marshal, has he done something bad with it?
I told him to use it careful.
He promised he'd use it careful.
No, never mind, Chester.
He's got quite a strawberry run we'd never catch up to him.
I tried to bring him up right.
I tell him to be good, but he don't listen.
He just don't listen.
Now calm yourself, ma'am. Just calm yourself.
Here's his little bundle, Mr. Dillon.
What?
Give it to me.
That's pretty heavy.
Here, you're better at knots than I am. Open it, will you?
The moment he was born, he'd been nothing but tribulation to me.
Now, please, ma'am.
What's he got in it, Chester?
A shirt, stockings, a piece of sausage, and this.
Forty-four double action.
Yes, sir, Mr. Dillon. That's Clay's gun.
Sonny didn't manage to keep it long, did he?
Well, if he wants a gun that bad,
he's bound to get hold of another one somewhere, somehow.
Chester, call Mr. Hightower over.
Hey! Hey, Mr. Hightower!
Oh.
Come on over. Mr. Dillon wants you.
Marshal, could I have please a drink of water?
Oh, Ziegler, I forgot all about you.
Chester, where are the keys?
Right there on the desk.
There we are. It'll be safe for you to go home now.
I can go back by the farm.
Yeah, that's right. I'll send for you for the trial.
Oh, thank you, sir. Thank you.
Watch where you're going, you dumb...
Excuse me.
Yes, Marshal.
Mr. Hightower, it appears that we can do business after all.
Get some paper and a pencil. I want some notices printed.
Fire away.
Wanted for murder.
What's the boy's name?
Bonnie.
William Bonnie.
Age 12.
Height about five feet.
Hair like. Eyes blue.
I don't suppose he's known by any other name.
Everybody just called him Billy.
Or the Kid.
Also known as Billy.
The Kid.
Gun smoke under the direction of Norman MacDonald
stars William Conrad as Matt Dillon, U.S. Marshal.
Tonight's story was specially written for Gun Smoke by Walter Newman
with music composed and conducted by Rex Corey.
Featured in tonight's cast were Don Diamond, Parley Bear, Harry Bartel, and Howard McNear
with Richard Beals, Paul Dubov, Georgia Ellis, and Mary Lansing.
Join us again next week as Matt Dillon, U.S. Marshal,
fights to bring law and order out of the wild violence of the West
in Gun Smoke.
Those longtime favorites, Amos and Andy, are rising to new heights
in their CBS radio series on Sunday nights.
Heard on most of these same stations, Amos and Andy
find trouble as constantly as ever
and make it just as funny and as human as they have for more than 20 years.
Be sure to hear Amos and Andy this Sunday, won't you?
Right after the Jack Benny show.
This is Roy Rowan speaking.
And remember, there's fast, funny quizzing on The Bob Hawke Show
every Monday evening.
This is the CBS Radio Network.