Around Dodge City and in the territory on west, there's just one way to handle the killers
and the spoilers and that's with a US Marshal and the smell of gun smoke.
Gun smoke starring William Conrad, the transcribed story of the violence that moved west with
young America, the story of a man who moved with it, Matt Dillon, United States Marshal.
That's Harry Pope over at the bar there, Mr. Dillon, a little short fellow.
Where'd he tell you he's from, Chester?
Boston.
Or near there.
He's a long way from home.
Yes, sir.
Well, it seems his wife died and he wanted to move somewhere else.
So he came out here about four months ago and built himself a little sod hut out on
the prairie, planted some corn and now he's trying to raise a few hogs.
That's all.
And he's scared to death, huh?
Yes, sir.
That's what he told me.
Well, if he's going to live out here, he's got to learn.
Mr. Dillon, why don't you talk to him?
Maybe you could explain it to him.
I'll call him over.
From what he's told you, I don't think anybody could explain it.
It's all in his head.
Harry!
Hey, Harry, come here.
Hello, Chester.
Hello, Harry.
This is Marshal Dillon, Harry Pope.
How do you do, Mr. Pope?
Why don't you sit down?
Nobody ever called me Mr. Marshal.
All right.
Chester tells me you've been worried lately.
It's the Indians, Marshal.
They come stretching around at night and they hoop and holler some, too.
Yeah, I know.
Tell me, do they do this every night?
No, sir.
But maybe once a week they do.
Well, what makes you think they're Indians, Pope?
I can hear them, that's why.
I've got a good stout door or they'd have been in on me a long time ago.
You know what coyotes sound like?
They ain't coyotes.
I can hear them talk.
Oh?
Well, what do they say?
They just yell.
I can't understand it.
But I asked Chester here if maybe the Army wouldn't come out and run them off.
Marshal, if they ever catch me outside my hut, I'll be done for.
Pope, let me tell you something.
If what you've been hearing was Indians, you'd have been done for a long time ago.
Indians don't just scratch around at night like that and they don't come whooping and
hollering like that either.
Now, you've heard talk about Indians and you're scared of them.
Maybe your imagination's done the rest.
No, sir.
Them are Indians.
They're right there.
I can hear them talking, I tell you.
Well, then why don't you shoot them?
Well, I don't have a gun.
What?
I figured that'd just make it worse, Marshal, if I started shooting at them.
Well, do you know how to shoot?
Oh, yes.
I learned in the Army.
Well, then you'd better get a gun.
A man needs one out here, Pope.
And besides, if you go out of your hut after them, the next time they come, you'll see
what I mean.
But if I kill any of them, don't you think they'll go after their whole tribe?
No, Pope.
I don't think they will.
Well, all right, Marshal, I'll try it.
I'll get me a gun today.
Oh, say, that was good.
Yeah, I was hungry.
Oh, and I nearly forgot, Matt.
Chester said not to wait for him.
He's talking.
Talking?
To a girl, Matt, and a pretty girl.
And he was doing all the talking when I left.
She just stood there shaking her head.
Smart girl.
Oh, I don't know, Matt.
Chester's young yet.
He may not be real handsome, but at least he's not old and mean.
Did you ever try to borrow a dollar from him, Doc?
Yeah, and I did, too.
Of course, I had to pay him back a dollar and a dime the next day.
But it was easy.
I didn't have to lift a finger.
He came right up to my office after.
I know.
He's got about eight of my dime.
Well, he's smart, that's all.
Marshal Gilliam.
Oh, hello, honey.
You know, Doc, Adam's here in that honeyman.
Oh, how do you do?
How do you do?
Sit down.
Yeah.
Bad news, Marshal.
Oh?
You know, that new feller, that Harry Pope.
Oh, yeah, I met him a couple of days ago.
I'm going to meet him again, Marshal.
Now, what do you mean?
He killed Joe Carter last night.
What?
Carter's worked for me a long time.
One of the best friends I ever had.
It buried him this morning.
Well, where did this happen?
Did they have a fight?
Pope shot him in cold blood, that's all.
Not near that hut he is.
Blasted Easterner.
I'm looking forward to seeing him hung.
Were you there, honeyman?
No.
Then how do you know Pope shot him?
Well, Earl Brandt was there.
He brought Joe's body back to the ranch.
Brandt works for you, too, doesn't he?
Yeah.
And not so long as Joe.
Tell me what happened.
I did.
Pope murdered Joe Carter.
They was riding by that dirty little sodbusters hut last night.
He come out and he shot Joe and he killed him.
Well, maybe it was a mistake, honey.
Oh, you don't kill men by mistake, Marshal.
Well, now you going to arrest him?
Well, ride out first thing in the morning.
He might run.
No, he won't run.
He wouldn't know how.
Yeah.
Yeah, I guess that's right.
Okay, Marshal.
Well, I guess that's right.
All right.
Ain't much of a place Pope got here, is it?
Well, he's only had a few months, Chester.
Besides, he's new to this country.
There he is, over the hog pen.
Oh, yeah.
Hello, Marshal, Chester.
Oh, Harry.
Pope.
Marshal, they was back again all right.
Who was that?
Who was, Pope?
Them Indians.
I came outside and shot at them, like you said, and they rode off.
I just hope the whole tribe don't come out after me now.
Pope, how many Indians were there?
Just two.
That's all I saw anyway.
You say you shot at them.
Did you hit them?
Well, I couldn't tell.
It was too dark.
I tried to do though.
Well, tell me what happened, Pope.
Well, sir, I heard them just like before.
So I got my gun and I loaded it.
Then I yelled at them.
I don't know if they heard me, but they put a couple of shots into my hut there.
Then I opened the door just a little bit, and I heard one of them riding off, right over that way.
I took a couple of shots at him, and then the other one started shooting at me from somewhere.
So I ducked inside again and waited.
But they didn't come back.
At least not yet, they ain't.
No.
I sure hope you're right about them not bringing the whole tribe, Marsha.
Pope, those weren't Indians.
Marsha, why do you keep saying that? I know better.
They were two men who worked for Ned Honeyman, and one of them, Joe Carter.
You killed him.
What?
Earl Brandt was the other man. He took Carter's body back to the Honeyman ranch.
He did?
I'm afraid you made a bad mistake, Pope.
But how do you know about this, Marsha?
Ned Honeyman told me.
He could be lying.
Honeyman has his faults, but lying isn't one of them.
Then you believe I killed that man?
It looks that way.
Then I don't know what to say, Marsha.
Pope, has there been any trouble between you and these men?
Oh, no, sir. No, I hardly know them.
They've ridden by a few times, that's all, but I wouldn't have shot at them if I'd known who they were.
Except it couldn't have been them. They were shooting at my heart first.
Well, it just don't make any sense at all.
I think he's telling the truth, Mr. Bill.
You going to arrest me, Marsha?
Well, the Indians that you've been hearing around your place don't exist, Pope. Indians just don't act that way.
Well, I believe you think you've been hearing them. Maybe it's getting worse with you.
And so the other night you heard those men riding by, and you just started shooting.
You think I'm crazy, don't you?
I don't think you intentionally murdered Carter, if that's any help.
Then you're not going to arrest me?
No, I'm not.
Maybe we ought to go talk to that fella, Brand, huh?
No, it's better if they come to us, Chester. And they will. He and Honeyman both.
Okay.
Now, don't get scared and try to run, Pope. You wouldn't get very far.
I won't, Marsha.
Morning, Mr. Dillon.
Morning, Chester.
Now, you were right. They're in town already. I saw them on the way here.
Ah, good. I think Brand knows something. He hasn't told Honeyman, Chester. Maybe we can get it out of him.
I hope so. I sure do feel sorry for that poor little fella, Pope, even if he is crazy.
I'm not so sure he's crazy. But anyway, we'll soon find out.
Yes, sir. Here they are.
Good morning, Marshault.
Good morning, Chester.
Good morning, Mr. Honeyman.
This here is Earl Brand I brought with me.
Hi.
Hi, Mr. Brand.
Marshault, I figured you'd want Brand's report from the tribe.
Me and Carter was good friends. I aimed to see that Yankee sodbuster hung.
All right, Brand. Tell me about it.
Nothing to it, Marshault. Me and Carter was riding past his place. He'd come out and started shooting at us.
He killed Carter, and I took a couple of shots at him and drove him back inside that hut of his, and I packed Carter onto the rank.
Well, you swear to that from court, Frank?
Oh, of course he will.
Why shouldn't I, Marshault? That little murderer been telling you something else?
Yeah. He thought he was shooting at Indians.
What? Oh, that miserable dog.
Now, you weren't there, Honeyman. How do you know what happened?
Well, Brand told me what happened. Who else would have shot Carter?
Brand, why do you think Boak shot at you?
I don't know, Marshault. He's crazy, I guess.
Is that all?
Well, that's enough, isn't it, Marshault? Look, he killed Joe Carter. Now, what difference does it make?
The difference between murder and something else, Honeyman.
Well, bring him in here and ask him. Now, beat the truth out of him if he lies.
He isn't here.
He what?
I didn't arrest him.
Oh, why not, Marshault?
He said he thought they were Indians, and I believe it.
You mean you ain't gonna arrest him at all?
Not until I find out what this is all about.
Well, I told you what it's all about. Come on, Honeyman, let's get out of here.
Oh, wait a minute. Marshault. Marshault, no man can kill a friend of mine and claim he thought he was shooting Indians.
Now, what's the matter with you anyway? You think I'd let anybody get by with that?
Carter was my friend, too.
If the law won't see justice done, we will.
Now, I'm warning you. You try to kill Pope and I will arrest you, and if you do kill him, you'll hang for it.
Well, I always thought you was a good man, Marshault, and I always respected you, but now I'm...
Oh, shut up, Ned.
Brant, why don't you tell the truth?
Whatever it is, why don't you tell it?
We're wasting time.
All right.
My guess is you and Carter have been hounding that man, making him think they've been Indians after him.
Now, why? Were you trying to drive him out of the country?
Why, Brant?
Your talk gets crazier all the time, Marshault.
I'm leaving, honeyman.
For the last time, Marshault, you're going to do anything about Carter's murder.
It wasn't murder, honeyman. Don't you see that now?
He's dead and Pope shot him. That's all I know.
That's all I need to know.
Come on, Brant.
We will return for the second act of gun smoke in just a moment.
But first, tomorrow night, man your armchair action stations and join Dick Powell as Richard Diamond's private detective.
There's danger in Dick Diamond's fist, dynamite to blast him through sudden lethal moments in his investigations.
When he starts closing in, his enemies fight deadly and dirty.
But nothing stops Richard Diamond, private detective.
Hear him again tomorrow night on most of these same CBS radio stations.
Now the second act of gun smoke.
That afternoon I rode out to see Pope.
It was a bad situation and I did a lot of thinking about it.
There was only one solution I could figure out and I wasn't sure if it worked.
I found Pope weeding the few miserable rows of corn he planted out in front of the small bluff against which he had his pig pens and his hut built.
I got down and walked over to him.
Well, Marshault, have you changed your mind?
No, I haven't.
Good.
Look, Pope, I don't know why they did it, but Carter and Brandt were the Indians you thought you heard.
They were trying to scare you for some reason.
I know.
What?
Well, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, Marshault, and I figured you know what Indians are like and that you wasn't lying to me.
So it must have been Carter and Brandt.
Well, have you thought of any reason why they were doing it?
No, sir, none at all.
Honeyman and Brandt want you arrested, Pope.
You going to do it?
I have no reason to, but they're threatening to take it into their own hands.
Can't you stop them?
I can't arrest them for talk.
Listen, Pope, you won't like this, but it would be better if you left here.
Now, it isn't your fault, but you've got enemies now and you'd be a whole lot safer somewhere else.
No. No, I won't leave. Let them come. I'll fight it out with them.
That little doesn't mean more bloodshed.
Yeah, like you said, Marshault, it ain't my fault. The man's got a right to defend himself.
Yes, I know. But you won't have any peace here. You'll start jumping at chatters.
I won't leave, Marshault.
Well, all right. But think it over anyway.
I have.
I'm sorry about this, Pope.
Thank you, Marshault.
So long.
Goodbye, Marshault.
The End
Pope went back to weeding his corn and I rode off past his little hut and around the narrow bluff he'd built it against.
I'd gone maybe a half a mile beyond when I heard two rifle shots behind me.
I turned and raced back to the bottom edge of the bluff where I dismounted and walked up to where I could see around it.
And just then I heard a horse coming along the trail and I stepped back and waited.
What it was would pass within a few feet of me.
I got the drop on you, Brian.
Don't shoot.
Now keep your hands up.
Now throw one leg over and slide off. Slow.
How long you been here, Marshault?
Turn around.
All right, you can put your hands down.
I might as well tell you, Marshault, I just shot that Yankee sodbuck.
Well, that's something to be real proud of, Frank.
He killed a friend of mine.
Pope meant no harm to either one of you.
What were you trying to do to him, you and Carter?
Just having a little fun, that's all.
Fun?
There's no use lying now, Marshault.
There never was.
Well, we'd have a drink or two and ride over now and then give him a few war hoops.
He'd just sit in his hut and shake.
One night I sneaked up the door, I could even hear him crying inside.
He was sure scared that time.
That must have been a lot of fun.
Not as much the next day when we'd ride back and hear all about how the Indians were after him.
I even wanted the Army to come out and run him off.
I know.
It'd been all right if he hadn't gone and bought himself a gun.
I advised him to.
You did?
I'm sorry if I spoiled your fun, Brandt.
Carter's dead because of you.
Does Honeyman know about this?
I told him I was going to get Pope, is all.
And he agreed?
He just said he sure hoped somebody'd get him.
All right, Brandt, let's go bury him.
I ain't going to bury him. Let him rot.
You'll bury him or I'll bury both of you.
Now you take your choice.
You mean that, Marshal?
Get moving.
It was too late to try to teach Brandt anything, but Ned Honeyman was a different matter.
I wanted to be sure he understood what really happened.
Otherwise he'd spread the word against me and against the law.
And there were a lot of men who'd be glad to listen to him.
We buried Pope near his little hut and then rode into Dodge.
I kept off Front Street and rode up to the jail from the rear.
Chester was waiting inside.
Thank gracious, Mr. Gill, I thought you'd never get back.
Hey, ho, Mr. Brandt.
Lock him up, Chester.
What?
He murdered Harry Pope.
Then I'll gladly lock him up.
Right back through that door, Mr. Brandt.
Yeah.
He says Honeyman's still in Dodge.
Have you seen him, Chester?
Well, Doc, I'm over at the Olive Organins a little while ago.
I'll be over there then.
Yes, sir.
All right, Mr. Brandt, you get heading on down.
Hello, Honeyman.
What do you want, Marshal?
I want to talk to you.
I don't want to hear it.
No, I don't think you do.
What?
I've been talking to Brandt.
He's told me the whole story.
Where is he anyway?
He told me that he and Carter have been having fun, as they called it, with Pope, making
him think they were Indians.
Well, you told him that this morning.
He admits it now.
I don't believe it.
And even if they had, is that reason enough to kill a man?
Pope was acting in self-defense.
He wouldn't have shot Carter otherwise.
It was a mistake.
But Carter brought it on himself.
I don't believe it.
Honeyman, do you want the law in this country or not?
Well, maybe that depends on who's represented.
It doesn't matter.
The law is the same.
Well, now the law says you can't kill a man and go free.
Now, don't it?
It says you can't murder a man.
Well, who decides which it is, Marshal?
You or me?
I'd like you to decide this time, Honeyman.
You mean that?
Yeah.
All right, Marshal.
You go and arrest Pope and get him hung.
That's how I decided.
Pope's dead.
What?
You wanted him killed and he's been killed.
What do you mean?
You said this morning you'd take justice into your own hands, didn't you?
Well, yes.
Well, at work, Pope's dead.
How do you know?
He was out weeding that little patch of corn he planted.
I think he planned to feed his pigs with it, mostly.
And he took two rifle bullets in the back.
Who did it?
Are you satisfied, Honeyman?
Is that how you wanted it?
Who did it, Marshal?
All Pope had was a sod hut and a few pigs.
He didn't know what this country was all about.
He might have learned, but your friends got him so scared, Brant told me, that he'd sit in his hut and cry.
Look, I...
And then one night he loaded his gun.
He went outside to fight.
That took a lot of courage, Honeyman, for a man like Pope.
But he did it.
Today I told him he'd better leave his place, that you and Brant had threatened him and would give him trouble.
What did he say?
He said he wouldn't go.
He said he'd stay and fight.
And so he did.
He stayed.
He didn't get a chance to fight.
What's a man like Pope know about protecting himself?
Brant?
Shot him in the back.
Twice.
All Pope had in his hands was a hoe.
Marshal...
I don't know what to say.
Brant's in jail.
I'm going to see him tried for murder.
And he'll be hung.
Yeah, but I guess I'm just as guilty as he is.
You could have stopped it.
But you encouraged it.
You wanted justice done, Honeyman, and fast.
Well, I didn't understand.
You didn't take time to.
The law was too slow for you.
I'm not very proud of what's happened.
The law's new out here, Honeyman.
Sometimes I think the only time people want it is when it seems to act the way they would act themselves if there weren't any law.
But it won't work that way.
According to the law, you're right or you're wrong.
You're guilty or not guilty.
People out here have had a hard time accepting that.
But there won't be much law till they do.
And men like Pope will go on dying, no matter how many Brants get hung for it.
Marshal, would it help...
Would it help the law if I get up in court and take my share of the blame for this?
Yeah.
Yeah, Honeyman, it'd help.
Well, I'll do it.
Good.
I'd be proud to buy you a drink, Honeyman.
Oh, sure, Marshal.
I thank you.
Sam, set out two glasses.
Gunsmoke Transcribed Under the Direction of Norman McDonald stars William Conrad as Matt Dillon, U.S. Marshal.
Tonight's story was specially written for Gunsmoke by John Messon, with music composed and conducted by Rex Corey.
Featured in the cast were Lawrence Dobkin as Ned Honeyman, Ralph Moody as Harry Pope, and Harry Bartel as Brant.
Harley Bear as Chester, and Howard McNear as Doc.
Gunsmoke has been selected by the Armed Forces Radio Service to be heard by our troops overseas.
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 Gunsmoke.
Moliere wrote a delightful comedy about a man who was not a doctor, but whose wife kept telling everybody he was a physician in spite of himself.
Here at this Monday night, when most of these same stations present the summer theater with screen actor Robert Young in the starring role.
And remember, for suspense all summer, hear Crime Classics Mondays on the CBS Radio Network.
Thank you for watching.