 Life on the Red Horse Ranch. When the Red Horse outfit went after cattle rustlers in the roaring river country, the sheriff's posse followed Trigger Dawson, leader of the outlaws, into the hills and fatally wounded him. It was found that Dawson had a boy living with him in his hideout, but some doubt that the boy was his son. Against the wishes of everyone on Red Horse Ranch, Alabama has sent Tenderfoot to roaring river to bring the boy back to the ranch. Well, that boy is not going to stay here if I have anything to say about it. Seems like you ain't. Alabama sent Tenderfoot over there to roaring river to bring the boy back with him. They ought to be here by this time too. Well, Carter's going to put a stop to it. Don't think he's going to like the idea of bringing in the son of a cattle thief to live on his ranch. Why in tarnation was Alabama so set on bringing that kid here? Oh, he sort of thinks it's our responsibility to take care of the kid as long as he ain't got a dad anymore. Well, you just remember what I said. There's going to be trouble when that doge comes on the place. He's been brought up with a whole pass-law outlaws, ain't saw nothing but shooting all his life. While he's like, he's not killed a couple of homers himself. We don't nothing about that kid. Boys, would you mind singing something till Cheyenne gets the wind out of his sails? Tenderfoot. Tenderfoot. Dawson's got more crimes laid to him and the dog's got fleas. Like it's not the law to be suspecting this whole red horse outfit of some bank robbery when it's his harbouring outlaw, I'll all kid now. Tetch! How about stuffing your boot in Cheyenne's mouth? Ain't nothing else will stop him. That ought to stop him for good. Listen, fellas, we got nothing against the Dawson kid. He might not even be Dawson's son. Some folks doubt it, but just the same, there may be some truth in what Cheyenne's saying. Well, he's going to be Alabama's responsibility. Let him do the worrying. Where is Alabama now? Out watching for him? Well, last time I saw him, he was up on the veranda talking to Rose. You know, I've been sort of wondering about Alabama and Rose till Tenderfoot came to the red horse. I sort of thought they'd get hit someday. I thought she treated Alabama pretty cool the other night at the dance. Oh, they had a little trouble, but it didn't mean nothing. Tenderfoot thinks he can miss Rose. You just ask her sometime. Alabama's the only fellow she's got an eye for. Of course, she likes Tenderfoot, but I don't think she suspects he cares for her. Now, don't none of you go tell around what I said. Oh, sure, we won't do nothing like that. Well, Arizona started on that guitar again. Let me get over to my doghouse. As much as I do, Mr. Carter, Tenderfoot ought to be back with him now any time. It's going to be mighty bad. Talk to me a little more before you decided to bring the boy over. Let's wait and see what the kids like. And if we find that he can't fit in, then we can send him back. Send him back where? He has no mother. His dad's gone. Might be a good thing he is. I just can't see it any other way, Mr. Carter. Let's give the boy a chance, Dad. He won't be any bother to you. I will hardly know he's here. Well, what do the rest of the boys think about it? Well, I'll admit they ain't so sold on the idea of having an outlaw's son for a border, but I'm going to do something for the poor kid. Oh, look, there's Tenderfoot now. Sure enough, and the boy's with him. Gosh, he's really a swell kid, Rose. Stop out front here, Tenderfoot. I want Dad and Rose to meet the young fella. I know. Come on, folks. Let's make him feel at home. Come on up here on the porch, mister, and meet the big boss. No, but poor little fella. Oh, that's the boy. I'll take Chris down to the crown and be right back, old man. All right. Well, here he is. Young Mr. Dawson. I'd like you to meet my two pals, Rose and Mr. Carter. Howdy, kid, howdy. Hello there, sonny. Won't you shake hands with me? You're going to say something to the folks, ain't you? Where's my pappy? Oh, my, uh, tell him your name, young fella. Where's my pappy? Well, I'll tell you all about that later. Oh, well, Abam, he doesn't even realize what's happened yet. What's his name? Dewey. Dewey Dawson. I guess he's a little lost. Of course. Uh, I'll have the boys come up. They'll cheer him up. You go ahead and talk to him, Rose. All right. Hey, Bob. Cheyenne. Kate. Come on up to the house. Oh, look. Look, is that your dog, Dewey? Of course he is. Who's you think he was? Oh. I don't know why I sure I should have known that. We're going to like having you here. What's the dog's name? Elizabeth, of course. Oh. Just what I was afraid of. Please, Dad. Not in front of him. Come on, fellas. Bring your guitars. Oh, here comes Dewey. Oh, Dewey. I want you to meet the swellest parcel of cow hands in the west, as Tex, Idaho, Bob, Cheyenne, and Arizona. Hi. Oh. Why? I bet there's a lot of muscle in them arms, Buster. My name ain't Buster. It's Dewey. Ha, ha, ha. That's a good one. Get along. Little do we get along. Now, listen, brothers. Don't start that. Play him something. Sure. Say, I bet he'd like to hear Pony Boy. How about it, Dewey? Let's go, boys. Sure. See ya. But it won't you be my Tony Boy. Don't say no. Here we go off across the plains. Carry me, carry me right away with you. Gip, gip, gip, oh, my Pony Boy. Was afraid he would trade his little heart away. His little heart away. So each little peach made a nice little speech of love. But won't you be my Tony Boy. Don't say no. Gip, gip, gip, oh, my Pony Boy. How'd you like that, Dewey? My gosh, Alabama. Don't he like nothing? Hey, it looks more like a sheep to me. It's got a sheep's head. He's either got no sheep's head. Arizona, lay off the boy. He's just getting acquainted. Come here, pooch. Watch me throw my voice at him. Now listen to me. You leave Malone. You touch Malone. Look your head off. Get out of here. Come on, please. You leave Malone. We can't get along that way, little fella. Why, these boys are all like you. We better not talk about my dog. It's mine. It's named us a little bit. Well, I'll tell you. You bring your pop gun and your bare bones and your hornet toad. And we'll go down to the bunkhouse. Leave us alone for a while, will you, fellow? Yeah, don't worry about that. And I think I'll have to sleep in a bed with that on a grown wildcat. Oh, that poor boy. I wonder how I'm going to tell Alabama that that boy must leave this ranch. We can't help feeling sorry for the boy, can we? But perhaps Mr. Carter is right.