 Frontier Town, the saga of the Roaring West. Frontier Town, El Paso, Cheyenne, Calgary, Tombstone. Frontier Town. Here is the adventurous story of the early West, the tamed and the untamed. From the Pekos to Powder River, Dodge City to Poker Flat. These are the towns they fought to live in and lived to fight for. Teaming crucibles of pioneer freedom. Frontier Town. If you know anything about Dose Reyes, our Frontier Town, then you've probably heard about me, Chad Remington. Oh, not that my name means anything, or am I an important citizen. But it just so happens that I'm a Frontier lawyer. Just about the only lawyer in the whole county and for hundreds of miles around. To tell the truth, were it not for the little ranch my father left me, I'd never make both ends meet practice and law. But even with the direct type of law we sometimes have on the Frontier, we do have a court and we do have a judge. The fact of the matter is that Libby, the judge's daughter, may someday become Mrs. Chad Remington. I say may, advisedly, and it's all because of what happened not much more than a week ago. It all started when a crowd of hoodlums rode into Dose Reyes, airing their lungs and triggering their gun. Whistled with some of his best. Hey, hey, hey, Frankie, you're all the time bolstering about what a crack shot you are. Think you can hit that little gold eagle on that flagpole across the street? I sure can. Watch. Shoot for it. And the first man to hit it gets six free drinks on me. Get them hog legs out and let's get to shooting. When this had gone on for a full minute, the judge, looking out of his office window and not finding anyone with a badge or otherwise attempting to stop this bloodless riot, slammed his window and stalked down the street toward the scene of the disturbance. He said stop it. Watch that again, mister. Were you talking to us? I most certainly was talking to you. You and the rest of these hoodlums. Oh, we're hoodlums, are we? Judging from your conduct, you most certainly are. Now put those guns up before we throw the lot of you in jail for 30 days for disturbing the peace. Quiet, quiet, quiet, you jaspers. I'll handle this whole coat. You happen to be the law around here, mister, because I don't see no tin bag. If you think it takes a sheriff or a marshal to lock you up, you've got a lot to learn. You either desist and behave like decent people, or I'm exercising the prerogative of any citizen and arresting you myself. Fran, I don't know anything about this pre-whatever you call it, but if you think you can lock me up, come on. Try it. Why, you contemptible insufferable... Yeah, what's all... Oh, what are you doing here, judge? Howdy, black tree. Howdy, boys. Well, mister Turner, I suppose these maniacs are customers of yours. Yeah, judge, not only are they customers of mine, they're friends of mine. If they are friends of yours, Turner, then the friendly thing to do would be to tell them to either behave like gentlemen while they're in dos Rios, or learn to be gentlemen with a 30-day course in our town jail. The trouble with you, judge, is you're getting old. Oh, I am, huh? Well, I'm not too old to arrest a lot of them, and you included, if I have to. Well, thank you, lawyers, to say that something remains to be proved. But what I was talking about was you seemed to forget when you were just a high-spirited young wadi yourself out to have a good time. I am not forgetting anything, but you seem to forget that we've got a few laws left in dos Rios. But jeepers, judge, these boys have been up country for a couple of months now. Ain't they entitled to come to town and have a little fun? Look around the street, Turner. There isn't a man-woman or child who hasn't run inside, or has hidden in some doorway. Frightened. Frightened off the street, they pay taxes to maintain. Yeah, so? So, I'm giving you a final warning. While these men or any other of your so-called friends are in dos Rios, either they tow them out and behave, or not only will they go to jail, but I'll issue a writ padlocking your place, closing it up as a public nuisance. Well, the riot or near riot happened in the middle of town, and as a result, I knew nothing about it because, well, I was out at the judge's house paying a visit I was enjoying on his daughter Libby. Chad, believe me, I've thought about it as much as you say you have, but living the life you do, one-third lawyer, one-third freelance marshal, and one-third plain and simple troubleshooter. Don't you understand? A woman wants peace of mind and security. Well, doesn't respect an affection and adoration mean something to a woman, too? Take that man you run around with, Cherokee. And what's wrong with the Albanian? Oh, nothing. Run out of two states for peddling that fraudulent patent medicine of his. You only use he-ass for waters to bathe in it and that not too frequently, and, well, it isn't Cherokee. It's just that I feel you aren't quite ready yet to settle down, Chad. Once you can convince me that you... Well, glad you're here, Chad. Well, I'm glad somebody's glad I'm here. Why, Judge? I just had a run-in with Black Jack Turner and a bunch of gunslingers who started to shoot up the town in front of that saloon of turners. Oh, Father, I hope you didn't get into a fight. No, but if I had, there'd have been a half a dozen cracked heads down there, I'll tell you. What was it, Judge? What happened? Well, it's a long story, Chad. So pull up a chair and sit down, and I'll tell you. Well, you already know what the judge told me. All about the rowdyism in town and his clash with Black Jack Turner and his coterie of gun-totan friends. However, what I didn't know and what the judge couldn't possibly have known were the repercussions resulting from his threat to padlock Black Jack's Golden Slipper Entertainment Hall. Because while he was recounting to me what had happened, Black Jack and a couple of his friends were in the Golden Slipper mulling it over. Now, I ain't telling you what to do, Black Jack, but I run up against solid citizens like that judge before. And I'm telling you, there are cyclone-on wheels when they get started. Ben ain't just talking, Black Jack. You could see it in the old goat's eyes that he meant what he said. And being a judge, like you say, he can make it stick. Yeah, I know. But I've been doing a little thinking. Thinking that might be good for this whole town. Yeah? That bold-headed busybody's been a judge around here for the last 12 years, just because the people elected him once. You mean you ain't had no election for 12 years? No, I mean he's been re-elected every two years just because it's become a habit. Sir. As a matter of fact, nobody's ever run against him. So all right, but what's your idea? Now, there's an election coming up at the end of this month. Me and a couple of other jaspers in the same business would like it a lot better if we had a new marshal. A more cooperative marshal? Yeah. So wouldn't it be a lot better if while we were trying to elect a new marshal, we ran our own candidate and elected a new judge? Are you serious? Who'd you run? Don't a judge have to be a lawyer? And the only lawyer around this side will stop is that holier-than-now Chad Remington. Oh, is that so? And maybe you didn't know that old man Simpkins used to be a lawyer back in Indiana. Jughead Simpkins? Why, Jughead Simpkins ain't drawn a sober breath for years. Sure. It'd make our campaign all the better. We could prove to the voters around here that even an old sought-like Jughead would be a better judge than that fossil we got. Oh, Blackjack, it wouldn't do you or us any good if he was elected. He don't even know what day of the week it is. Ah, that's just the point. Now, if we elected Simpkins, don't you see he'd do anything we told him? With our own marshal and judge? Gentlemen of toast, I give you Judge Jughead Simpkins. Well, Libby was right. Being a troubleshooter at heart, I decided to go down and pay a call on Blackjack Turner to see if I couldn't make him realize that those rears had grown up and that it was no town for the bad ones. The saddlebombs, gents on the prod, and the ordinary back country variety of troublemakers. Aside from the usual gaiety and the golden slipper, everything seemed serene as I spotted Blackjack and walked up to his table. Well, what do you want, Remington? I want to talk to you, Blackjack. Talk to you like a Dutch uncle. Yeah. Well, I don't want to talk to you. In fact, I don't even want you in my place. You've got to be careful who I let in here, and the golden slipper's got a good reputation. Now, look, Turner, I didn't come in here for any of your stupid jokes, and I'm not going to... I'm asking you decent. Are you going to get out? I'm going to get out when I'm good and ready. Frankie, Ben, get him out of here. My pleasure, Blackjack. And just to make sure there's no real trouble, I think I'll just take charge of that puffer. Are you low down? Come on, Frankie. We've got someone we're even out of here. We'll be so kind. Let's have that famous march from the fumbs right. We'll return to the second act of Bullets for Boothill, our exciting Frontier Town adventure in just a few moments. Teartown. Well, there's a saying that there's no fool like an old fool, but as you're seeing, in my case, age didn't make any difference. However, it didn't take me long to get over feeling foolish, particularly a few days later when I was sitting in my office still licking my wounds, and Cherokee O'Bannon came banging up the stairs from his livery stable below. Belly blue blazes, Chad, wait till you hear. Wait till I hear what, Cherokee? Well, they're running someone else against the judge in the election next week. What? Running someone else for judge? Are you sure? Sure, I'm sure. I got the information from the man who's running. The man who's running? Who is it? Old man Simkins. Jughead Simkins. Simkins? And what were you doing talking to Simkins? Well, I... Now look here, Chad, what's that got to do with it? Come on, now, where did you see Simkins? You were over in that saloon again, weren't you? That thing you so indignally call a saloon is a rendezvous for the less fortunate people, people like me. We refer to it as the working man's club. Well, sit down, and don't sit across the desk from me. Sit where you can exhale toward the open window. Tell me what else you found out. What else? Isn't that enough running a sod and rep a bait like Jughead for judge? But who's running him? Who's behind him? Well, I ran out of money at that stage. Although if I'd had another four bits in my jeans, I'm sure I could have found out. Another four bits worth of drinks, and you might have found out. But when you woke up tomorrow morning, you wouldn't have remembered anything about it. Counselor, that is a base calamity. A sip of the hair of the dog that bit me, and I would have been sharp as a tag. Regardless, I'll bet you right now that this is some of Blackjack Turner's doings. And by glory, Cherokee, if it is, I'm not going to rest until Turner and his whole crew are run out of this town, and preferably up to the state penitentiary. A few days later, when we could start reading the handwriting on the wall and the ridiculing posters tacked up all over town, Cherokee and I were in a sober and solemn conference with a judge and his daughter, Libby. Chad, this is so ridiculous. Mr. Simpkins never knew any law at all. It's been burned out of his brain by alcohol years ago. The ridiculous part of it is that there are actually people in this town who are starting to believe all those palpably asinine lies they're spreading around. You'll have your chance to answer the lies, Judge, when you make that campaign speech in front of the town hall tomorrow night. And don't believe I won't answer them. Factually, categorically, and point by point. I wish we really knew who was backing Simpkins. So hard to fight when you don't know whom you're fighting. Well, Libby, it may be hard to fight, but it's not too hard to figure out. Oh, I know whom you suspect, Chad. But honestly, I don't think that... Sapper and sea serpent, sir. What was that? Chad, someone threw a knife through the window. A knife with a note pin to it. I'll get it. Well, this is going to set the Democratic former government back to the Dark Ages. What is it, Chad? What does the note say? Yeah, let me read that. Warning, if you try making that speech tomorrow, you'll never make another one. A friend. Of all the cheap, contemptible, cussing things I've ever heard of? Threats in a political campaign. Well, they're not intimidating me. Well, I should hope not. You'll show this note to the Marshal and have deputies all around that meeting. Certainly. That's a good idea. The Marshal's up for reelection, too. And this is aimed at him as much as it's aimed at me. We'll have every deputy in town protecting that meeting. If I were you, Judge, I wouldn't. What? Are you out of your mind, Chad? What do you want to do, have my father killed? Or maybe you think you can protect him single-handedly? No, no, Libby. That's no way to talk to Chad. No, it isn't, isn't it? He couldn't even protect himself the other day. Not Blackjack Turner's saloon. My dear Miss Libby, what chance has one man got again? Thanks, Cherokee, but this isn't the time or the place for defending my stupidity. However, I'm still of the opinion that it would be a grave mistake to have tomorrow's campaign meetings surrounded by deputies. Now, if you'd only try to figure out what might be behind this thing, Judge, I think you'll see that... Chad, you're just wasting your breath trying to argue with us. I'll fight for reelection. I'll fight every thieving no good in this town. But just so long as we have law in order, I'm going to have the full protection of that law that I'm sworn to defend. Every blessed chance I can get it. It was bad enough trying to argue with an old moss-back like the judge. But when it came to arguing with Libby... Well, there are several old axioms that apply to a situation like this. And besides, after the dressing down Libby had given me a few days before, about being footloose and trouble-seeking, I just decided that the better part of Valar was to let it go with that. So, with Cherokee in tow, I went at the problem in my own way, keeping both eyes peeled when we attended the campaign meeting at which the judge spoke the next day. Even with the increase in civil suits, three cases out of four that are tried in my court are still criminal actions. Do you want a judge like my opponent to sit on the bench for that? No. Very well, then. Friends and fellow townsmen, then let us face facts. Let us compare the record of my opponent with my own record since we both came to Dos Rios. Let us investigate and see which one of us has contributed more to the welfare and to the civic health of our community. But as we pulled away from Town Hall and started through the business section of town, we could soon see that it had been Blackjack, Turner's, Golden Slipper Saloon that had been held up. The trail led out of town and then suddenly, just as suddenly as the shots had started, the trail vanished into the rocks. For the moment at least, it was a lost cause. There was no trail to follow, so the Marshal slowed his own horse and turned in the saddle. Ha! Ha! Say, there's no use killing off these horses, boys. Rain after. Ha! Ha! Well, they certainly disappeared like prairie dogs in the desert, Marshal. Yes, and no wonder. Marshal and all his deputies hadn't been down to a political meeting. A man might be able to get some protection around this town. Don't be ridiculous, Turner. The Marshal was only doing what he was supposed to do. Protect me from being murdered. Yeah? Well, what about me? I'm a businessman and a taxpayer. Don't you think I'm entitled to some protection, too? Now, hold on, Turner. Me and my deputies were out of town almost as fast as you were. Sure, almost as fast. You almost got me back that $20,000 they got out of my safe. What do you mean? I'll tell you what I'm going to do. Because the Marshal's office is so busy working for a judge who can't even take care of himself, I'm offering a reward of 10% or $2,000 for the conviction of the man who robbed my safe. Come on, boys, there's no sense wasting time out here. Let's be getting back to town. If you've noticed, I'd learned enough by that time to keep my mouth shut. But I did keep my eyes open. After the mob dispersed and went back to town, it didn't take Cherokee and me very long to discover the trail we'd been following was the trail of only two horses. It wasn't very likely that only two men could successfully hold up a saloon like the Golden Slipper and get away with it. That is, not without a little help. A little inside help. Why am I saying it, Mother Chad? How can you even figure that this is an inside job? Item number one, the note that was thrown into the judge's house. I tried to tell the judge and Libby, but they wouldn't listen. But did you notice the knife the note was stuck on? The knife? Yeah, it was a boning knife. A boning knife such as Butcher's use, or they use in restaurants. Restaurants like Turner's Golden Slipper Cafe. That doesn't prove the robbery was an inside job. Item number two, wouldn't it make sense if this was a planned inside job to threaten the judge so that he'd do the obvious thing and seek the protection of the Marshal and all of his deputies? Yeah, presuming you're right, Counselor. Why should a man want to steal $20,000 for himself? Item number three, you just heard Blackjack trying to make it sound as if the judge got special protection at the expense of all the other taxpayers. Now, if enough taxpayers believe that argument, the next judge in this county will be Jughead Simkins. Man alive, how can you even start to prove that? Well, by doing something that's even more ridiculous, Cherokee, you and I are going to draw out every dollar we have in the bank and gamble. We're going to sit in a game with a professional gambler with nothing on our side but sheer bluff. Come on, Ben, have another one. You know, tonight for my special friends, the drinks are on the house. Well, for $20,000, a fellow ought to be able to buy a lot of drinks. Hey, look who just walked in, Chad Remington. Looks like we can have the professor play the march from the Bums Rush all over again. Wait a minute. What's he doing coming in here with O'Bannon and the Marshal? I don't know, but we'll soon be finding out. Here he comes. Believe me, Turner, I wouldn't be coming in here if it wasn't on business. And if you want your $20,000 back, just tell your bouncers to lay off. Why, I wouldn't throw you up. Did you say something about my $20,000? He certainly did. That reward you put up was so tempting we went out and found it. What are you talking about, anyhow? I don't believe you. That's the truth, Blackjack. I've got the men who held you up down in jail and they've confessed. And if you don't mind, Turner, being a lawyer, I'd like my fee in advance. That'll be exactly $2,000. And in your case, I won't charge costs. Put it politely. We want the reward. First, I want to see the money. You don't have to worry about the money, Blackjack. I got it down to my office. That is not all of it. See here, this is some the Marshal didn't have room for. We decided to hang on to that much in case you welt, Blackjack. So, since it gives you a place of bad name to have me in it, why don't you just go back to your office, open the safe, and get us that $2,000, huh? Okay. Come on, Ben. We made a bargain. We better live up to it. He sure had made a bargain. And as soon as they left for the private office, Cherokee, the Marshal and I sneaked out to the back window in the alley and watched. Is the door there, Blackjack? One of them dirty liars. They never got back that $20,000. It's still right here. For sure. How could they get it back when it's always been right here? All right, Turner Reach. We heard every word you said. Marshal, look out. They're gone. I don't mean to sound as if I'm boasting, Blackjack, but I generally get what I aim at. And in your case, it wasn't just your gun arm. To square myself with a certain young lady in town, I've spent the last three days aiming on putting you in jail. Come on. Frontier Town starring Reid Hadley and featuring Wade Crosby as the Bruce L's production. Story in Direction by Paul Franklin. Music written and played by Ivan Ditman. Be sure to be with us again same time next week for another fine action adventure story with your favorite young western star, Reid Hadley. And now this is Bill Foreman telling you that Frontier Town comes to you from Hollywood.