Around Dodge City and in the territory on west, there is just one way to handle the killers and the spoilers, and that's with the U.S. Marshal and the smell of gun smoke.
Gun Smoke, starring William Conrad, the story of the violence that moved west with young America, and the story of a man who moved with it.
I'm that man, Matt Dillon, the United States Marshal, the first man they look for and the last they want to meet. It's a chancy job, and it makes a man watchful and a little lonely.
No sense trying to save the cabin, Chester. The fire and the sheds will soak them down good.
All right, Mr. Dillon.
Oh, hauling well water takes too long. You better get it from the stream.
I'm after the bucket. It's a slight bigger than these tin pails we got.
Here, let me give you a hand.
I ain't sick of rust. I don't know how these fellas drawed water. It don't seem like nobody has worked this thing for a long time.
Well, it's coming some, but the bucket's still a long way down there. Wait a minute, hold it. Maybe I can haul it up by hand.
Can you get it?
Yeah, I can get it.
There.
You'll hold back to it now. I will, but whether this rope can hold a bucket or not is something else again.
That rope was plum-rottin'.
Yeah, well, maybe out in the barn, the shed, you can find something to haul water in.
Sir, I just don't figure how he got his water. He sure didn't use it well.
He?
Well, the fella that lived here, the one Albie dragged out of the cabin.
Well, where'd he take it?
He was down there on them trees.
He looked kind of sinned, Shelby. You all right?
He's just a cinder. That's all I can think. He's just a cinder.
Under the blanket here?
He ain't a man at all. He's a cinder.
That's all, Albie.
Could you tell, was he alone in the cabin?
I couldn't believe it. He was sitting at the table. His head was slumped forward and there was fire all around.
And then I seen he was on fire. He was just sitting there, on fire.
Get easy now.
And I got to him and he toppled off right under the floor and he laid there burning.
He didn't know it all.
I seen trees burn. I seen fields. I seen logs. I never seen a man burn before.
Just forget about it.
You know, it's funny. A man on fire, first thing you do is put a blanket on him.
He's burning hot, so you smother him.
You put the fire out, Albie. That's the way to look at it.
You put a blanket on his cinder.
All right, Albie. Albie. Stop it!
You found a cinder.
Were you talking to me, Marshal?
Yeah, the blanket. It was in the cabin?
The blanket. Oh, it was on the floor right by the table.
Now, that's wet.
It felt wet when I grabbed it.
Uh-huh.
That's a funny smell, isn't it, Marshal?
Yeah. Whiskey and kerosene together make a funny smell, Albie.
That what that is?
That's what it smells like.
Mr. Dillon, can you come back here?
Yeah, right away, Chester.
You rest yourself, Albie. You've done more on your share.
Oh, I'm all right, Marshal.
Where'd you find them, Chester?
In the corral.
Behind the barn? Poor things, ain't they puny-looking?
All thin-fleshed, bone-shorn.
Yeah.
Somebody neglected them for a long time.
Mr. Dillon, they're about starved.
Any feed in the barn?
Ain't nothing in that barn but rusty cans and a broke plow.
Everything in there's crumbling, except the rats.
Well, there's grass down by the creek. We'll lead them down there.
It don't seem like this was Indians, does it, Mr. Dillon?
It looks queer, Chester. Everything around here looks queer.
That's not the same.
Well, at least the barn is still standing and a couple of sheds.
We done what we could, Mr. Dillon.
You hadn't been riding by and come to fetch us if we couldn't have done this much, Albie.
I couldn't do enough alone.
Funny, in a way.
I'm taking too far from Dodge, but you know, I didn't pass one settler on the way in.
You didn't see anybody around here?
No, not a soul.
It's just odd. That's what it is. Odd. Odd as can be.
Well, you've got to figure he was alone, except for them two starving horses.
I don't know his name, so I can't mark his grave.
I can't help wondering about him.
What's a man like that lives alone, lets his place go to rust and rubble?
Those horses starve.
And that well? I don't know when that's been used.
I don't think he drank water, Chester.
You mean that smell of whiskey on the blanket, Marty, huh?
Might be he drank himself into a stupor, knocked the whiskey over along with a kerosene lamp.
Had a start of fire that would burn him out to death.
Yeah, that must have been the case.
Well, if he was all alone, maybe it doesn't matter what we know.
Well, for the love of...
What?
Mr. Dillon, look, he's coming up in the creek bed, your honor.
Maybe he wasn't alone after all.
Well, that's just a child.
She can't be more than nine or ten.
I'm afraid I'm no judge.
Who are you?
I'm Marshall Dillon from Dodge City.
Who are you?
Charity.
How's that?
Charity. Charity Gill. That's my name.
It was a big fire, wasn't it?
Yeah, it was.
You live here?
Mm-hmm.
Well, where you been, Charity?
Up the creek. I play up there, stay up there all I can. I like it up there.
You knew about the fire, Charity?
I tried to make him move. I told him to and I pulled at him, but he was too big. I couldn't move him.
I tried. See, I burned my dress.
He was your father?
No, he married Mama and me when I was little. She said I was too cold on Daddy and I did, but I didn't like him.
Where is your Mama, Charity?
Oh, she's dead. She died when I was seven. I'm almost ten now.
He's dead, ain't he?
Yes, he is.
I didn't like him.
Miss Dillon, you don't know?
I don't know, but it'd be hard to think, wouldn't it, Chester?
Well, that's it. I'd say you were a pretty healthy young lady.
I never been to the doctor before.
Never have. Will you take a tip from me? You stay away from Molly, can't you, Eddie?
You're funny.
Well, some folks think so. Now then, I guess you can slip into your dress yourself.
I always do.
Well, Marsha Dillon, I'll be waiting for you in the other room when you're ready.
I won't be long.
All right.
What about her, Doc?
Oh, she's fine. She could use some more meat on her bones, but there's nothing really wrong with her.
Where her dress was burned, I thought maybe the fire got to her, too.
Well, it's not a sign of a burn. You know something, she seems a lot older than ten, doesn't she?
I don't know anything about kids, Doc.
Well, I don't mean she is older than that. She just seems older than a year.
I guess she's seen a lot.
You talk to her much about the fire?
She said she tried to move her stepfather. Couldn't, Miss Bottle.
She didn't like him.
She keeps saying that.
I'm hungry, Mr. Dillon.
Yeah, well, we'll fix that pretty quick now.
Matt, get Chester to eat with it. He sets a mighty good example.
He does at that, doesn't he?
Charity, will you tell us about the fire?
What about it?
Oh, how it started, for instance.
Well, it's almost happened lots of times.
Mama used to tell him that it happened sometimes he wasn't careful.
He'd drink out of that jug and then he'd fall asleep, and if the lamp was near, he'd knock it over.
What happened this morning?
I guess so. I went down to the creek to get my breakfast.
He didn't talk to me ever, so I didn't talk to him. He was just sitting there with the jug.
Your breakfast, Charity?
Yeah, the berries are nice down by the creek.
Oh, you ought to eat more than berries for breakfast.
I thought you wanted to know about the fire.
That's right, we do.
When I came back from breakfast, the lamp was on the floor and everything was burning.
I tried to make him move, but he was too big.
And when my dress started to burn, I ran away.
Just you and your stepfather, that's all that lived there, huh?
Mm-hmm, and Coley and Sue.
Coley and Sue?
Yeah, the horses, Doc. We brought them in the moss.
Marshall?
Yeah, Charity?
Will I live with you now?
Well, no. We'll find a place for you, but...
But I like you.
Yeah, but...
Don't you like me?
Well, sure, sure. I like you all right, honey.
You want to say something, Doc?
Huh? No, no, no, no.
Oh, come on, Doc. Help me make her understand now, will you?
You wouldn't let me be alone, would you?
Well, no, Charity. I wouldn't do that.
You'd be a good friend.
You walk too fast.
Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess I do.
Are you in a hurry?
It's going to be dark before long. I want to get you settled with Moss Molly for the night.
Who's Moss Molly?
She's a woman who runs a boarding house.
What's a boarding house?
Well, you know, you board there. You get a room to sleep in, and your meals...
Can I eat with you?
Well, sure. Sometimes, maybe.
I can cook a little bit. I mean, when there's food in the house, I can cook.
Well, yeah, I bet you can.
Do you have a little girl like me?
Uh, no.
Little boy?
No.
Why not?
Well, I'm not married, Charity.
Well?
Well, what?
Well, I don't have a little girl, a little boy, anyway.
Now, you listen to me, little lady.
You were going to call me Charity?
Yeah, well, you ask an awful lot of questions, Charity.
Well, that's how you learn asking questions.
Well, sure, that's how you learn.
Then why don't you have a little girl like me?
I told you, Charity, I'm not married.
Well?
Come on, Charity, you're going to like Moss Wally.
Does she have a little girl?
No.
Is she married?
Well, I think she used to be, yeah, but...
Well?
Charity?
I just don't understand.
I know you don't, honey, but I just don't figure I'm the one to make you understand.
Now, come on.
Music
Good evening, Marshall.
Evening, Rob.
What's that you got there?
This is Charity, Rob.
Well, she's a young and a girl.
Yeah?
Do you have a little girl?
Don't start that again, please.
Well, you talk right up to her, don't you, Marshall?
Is Ma around, Rob?
Can't start that soon enough with a youngin'.
Girl, especially.
Can't give them the head, you know.
Got to lay down the law right early in life.
I was asking after Ma.
Where is she inside?
Well, she is not.
Well, then where is she, Rob?
Medlin.
That's where she is, thinking and talking free with a whole sewing circle of half-wit women who should have been buggy with a long time ago.
Is he mean, Marshall?
Yeah, he's mean as a butterfly.
Ain't no mean about it.
Just sitting down in the back stating the case, you might say.
Now, if someone had put Ma and them others in their place when they were this youngin's age, we'd have had a warm supper to see men, a few that comforted us men both inside.
Rob, Rob, you're going to run down pretty soon and tell me where Ma is?
Clean all the way to Wichita.
Wichita?
Mm-hmm.
Left on the morning stand to be, big as you please, her and the Dorsey girls, Boss Grimmick's wife, Fanny Dorsey, Clara Jones.
Hold up a minute, will ya? You're calling off every woman in Dodge. They can't all be in Wichita.
Well, you're the Marshal. Make yourself a house-to-house search.
Ain't no woman left in town, and they ain't going to be for five days running.
Well, what's going on?
Suffering.
Rob, you talk straight to me now or so.
That's what they call it, suffering. They all met for it.
Women from all over the state, according to Ma, pouring into Wichita, and every single one of them has got suffering on their minds.
Suffering? You mean suffrage?
No, it's one and the same thing. It's that sneaky way women folks are talking.
Why don't they just come out and plane and say that they want the vote? No, they got to call it suffering.
Suffrage.
Well, you let them vote a while and see if the country ain't suffering.
I'm awful sleepy, Marshal.
Yeah, me too, Charity.
You're not serious, Matt.
You're the only woman in town, Kitty. It's only natural that you'd want to take care of her now, isn't it?
In a saloon? There's nothing natural about that.
She can sleep in your room, can't she?
My room, the long branch, any of this. It's no place for a little girl. You should know it isn't.
You think one of my jail cells is better, maybe.
Well, there's no worse.
Honestly, Matt, I know this is a problem, but I don't think I'm the solution.
There must be someplace in town, or even out of town, some family.
We wrote out to Albie Stevens.
He's got eight kids?
Yeah, they're stacked up out there and they're all boys.
What about Mr. Stevens?
She's gone to Wichita with Mars, Smalley, and the rest of them.
Eight kids and she wants the vote, too?
Well, Albie says she went for the outing. I guess she can't blame her for wanting to get away.
Hello.
Hello, honey. Did you get the drink you wanted?
Well, the man said he didn't have any milk, so I had some water.
She ought to have milk, man.
Well, yeah, but...
Why do they keep a cow at Delmonico?
Oh, yeah, yeah, I guess they do with that.
Well, go and get it some. Caddy will be all right here for the...
Here, honey, you sit on here. You wait with Miss Kitty, huh?
You're not going to leave me?
No, I'll be back as soon as I get you some milk.
I like him.
Yeah, I like him, too.
You're pretty.
You think so, honey?
And you smell pretty, too. Only...
Only what?
You got your face painted.
Mommy used to tell me only Indians painted their faces.
Maybe your mother was pretty enough without using powders and things.
Oh, she was pretty.
Freckles. She had freckles all over.
Wow.
That proves it. I don't have any freckles.
This is a funny place, ain't it?
Kind of funny, yeah.
Sometimes I don't understand grownups, Miss Kitty.
Outside there's alfalfa and sweet clover to smell,
and quick water to drink, and currants and wild gooseberries and sheep's shower to eat.
But grownups are always crowding together indoors and smelling smoke and drinking whiskey and talking loud.
What is that?
I don't know, Charity. I just know they do.
And if they didn't, I'd be out of business.
Now, Mr. Dillon, I just don't see the need of this at all.
I've never been in jail before in my life.
Stop acting like an old woman, Chester. You're not in jail now, really.
Poor Hickert McPeters is in the same doggone cell just last week,
before they took him off to Hay City to hang.
Now, you listen to me, Chester. It's been a long day.
I had about all the jaw on I can handle.
Charity's going to sleep in your bed. I'm going to sit up in mine,
and you're going to sleep on that cot there, and that's the end of it. Now, shut up.
Yes, sir, I understand, but I don't see why I've got to be locked up to complicit.
You're not locked up, Chester.
You closed the door, shut on me, Mr. Dillon.
All right, all right, all right there. Better? Is that better? Huh?
Yes, sir, it is. A sight better.
Good night, Chester.
Good night, Mr. Dillon.
Yes, I guess Charity's asleep now, all right?
She probably was before we started this ruckus, yeah.
Oh, poor little thing.
Whatever is going to come of her, Mr. Dillon.
I don't know, Chester.
I don't know anyone who wants kids that hasn't got them.
I sure never run up against anything like this before.
She's plumbed on on you.
Her head's long like a little stray. Too bad you can't keep her.
Oh, you're out of your head.
Well, now I can see it ain't the most practical thing in the world.
Chances are you'd feel a lot better having a little boy, but all the same...
Chester.
Yes, sir?
I'd feel a lot better having nothing at all.
No boy, no girl.
Well, yes, I suppose so. You're more used to that.
Good night, Chester.
Good night, Mr. Dillon.
Ain't you gonna get in your bed, Marshall?
Huh?
Okay. You're supposed to be asleep, young lady.
I know, but I keep thinking.
I never can sleep when I'm thinking.
I guess the secret's to quit thinking then, huh?
I'm worried about you, Marshall Dillon.
Worried?
You don't know what to do about me, do you?
No, honey, I sure don't.
I guess you're tired of me, too.
I'm not tired of you, Charity.
I just don't rightly know what to do with you.
You don't want me to live with you, do you?
Well, honey, you can't very well.
You've seen how I live here.
It is not the right place for a little girl.
You ought to have a home.
A real home, Charity, with folks close to you who'll see that you're cared for,
who'll love you.
Like my Aunt Annie?
Aunt Annie?
Oh, maybe I haven't told you about Aunt Annie.
Maybe you haven't.
At first I thought it would be nice to live with you.
But mostly you and I just walk around. I get tired.
Charity, where does Aunt Annie live?
Just on yonder from where I used to live before it's fire.
Maybe five miles, not far.
Ah.
I like you, Marshal Dylan.
Yeah.
Well, I like you, too, Charity.
And tomorrow morning we're going to ride out to Aunt Annie, huh?
Mm-hmm.
Oh, I think I'll sleep better now.
Hmm.
Yeah.
Me too, honey.
Me too.
Munch, munch, munch, munchy, bunchy, beedle, cornflip.
It's not polite to smack your lips,
but you can't help it with Frito's cornflip.
Munch, munch, munchy, bunchy, beedle, cornflip.
Some things you eat because they taste good,
and some things you eat because they're good for you.
But Frito's cornflips are one snack you can eat for both reasons.
Gunsmoke, produced and directed in Hollywood by Norman McDonald,
stars William Conrad as Matt Dillon, U.S. Marshal.
The story was specially written for Gunsmoke by Kathleen Height,
with editorial supervision by John Meskin.
Featured in the cast were Ann Whitfield, Joseph Stearns, and Lawrence Stubbskin.
Harley Bear is Chester, Howard McNear is Doc, and Georgia Ellis is Kitty.
This is George Walsh inviting you to join us again next week
when CBS Radio presents another story on Gunsmoke.