 P.O.S.T. P.O.S.T. Post. The serials you like the most brings you the Roy Rogers Show, starring the king of the cowboys himself, Roy Rogers. It's round the table our bar ranch. Transcribe stories and songs of the real west with the whipper-wills. The wisest trail scout of them all, Jonah Wilde, played by Forrest Lewis. The queen of the west, Dale Evans. And in person, the king of the cowboys, Roy Rogers. Well, howdy, folks. This is Roy Rogers. Buckaroos, some morning soon, why don't you let mom sleep late? And you get your own breakfast. It's easy as long as there's a supply of post-serials on the shelf. And it'll be a mighty good breakfast, too, because you can always count on anything bearing the brand name P.O.S.T. Well, I know the Sid Kenyon in town yesterday. Sid makes a living by collecting specimens for scientific laboratories. And there's just nobody who can get into as many scrapes as old Sid. I wish I'd have met up with you boys 10 years ago. I'd have been a billionaire. But now, take this here load of frogs I got in my wagon. Scientific laboratory pays me seven and a half cents of frog. You can see that ain't going to buy no rings for my fingers and her bells for my toes. There's not much time left. Suppose we get down to business. Yep, yep, yep, yep. The frogs are in your wagon, ready to go, right? 500 of them, 500 unhappy frogs bound for a scientific laboratory. All right, our trucks are out in the canyon. We'll move one schedule and depend on you to hold that crowd in Mineral City. Well, don't I always? Don't ranch hands come from far and near the days I make a delivery to the laboratory? Why, shucks, ain't nobody in his right mind admits the celebrations I put on after I get paid. Folks looks forward to them as if they was in a circus. But I'm so dumb I never thought I'm making a profit on them before. Look, make your celebration tonight last two hours, three if you can. We have to rustle the cattle, load them on our trucks, and meet the man who's buying them before that crowd breaks out. Mr. Bruce, stop your worrying. This twisted old brain of mine has figured something to make the folks laugh, fit the split, and keep them busy to till almost dawn. Tonight's going to be a great night in Mineral City. As darkness crowds in on Paradise Valley, a ramshackle old wagon, pulled by a team that has seen better days, travels toward Mineral City. Sid Kenyon sits on the seat, and in the dim light takes on the appearance of a scarecrow, a grinning scarecrow to be sure, but one with a streak of viciousness hidden somewhere inside its flapping garments. The wagon enters Main Street Mineral City. A good many ranchers and their riders are on hand for a Sid admits he does put on a celebration worth watching after he's been paid. He turns his team sharply toward a hitching rail. Too sharply, the old wagon peaks a protest. Sid flips the horses, turks on the reins. The wagon tips, rolls over on its side. The part of the street in great alarm. 500 frogs are energetically leaping from the broken boxes near the wagon, hopping briskly about in Mineral City's Main Street. What are you laughing for? Come on, Kenyon. Alive with the greatest frog hunt that has ever taken place, ranchers, cowboys, and townsmen run about trying to catch the leaping, jumping amphibians. Within an hour, most of them have been caught and placed in their boxes again. I thank you. I sure do thank you. Now, if you will just be good enough to help turn my wagon right side up. Now, I'll tell you what. You fellas follow me to the laboratory. It won't take long to sell these frogs. And if I've figured right, I'll have some words in the neighborhood. Rustlers are getting ready, Robinson's count. Why don't they? They're using trucks. They'll be out of the territory in no time unless we hurry. You're pulling this wagon like you never pulled it before. Well, he ain't finished yet. I got too much at stake in that rustlin' to let the gang get caught. There was six big trucks, chef. Three of them had trailers. Hey, what's all the excitement about, boys? Roy, Pat Sullivan says rustlers are stealing cattle at Eddie Robinson's police. Yeah, with trucks. They got trucks. Big operators. There's only one way for them to get out then, the state highway. Chef, we'd better set up some roadblocks. That's it. Friend, take a dozen men right north to the big bend. Use a shortcut. Put them a roadblock there. The other one better be at the entrance to Walk-In Pass. Sal, you attend to that one. Roy, we'll ride between the two. Be ready to go to whichever part of the posse, spot some first. You bet. I'll get Dale and Jonah. And we'll be with you right away. Yeah, feel sorry for the poor old fella. The way Dorothy may have been to treating him. What now? Wait, you hear? He's practically bug-eyed. Troy, the fleet of trucks has been sighted. They're traveling toward the big bend. OK, let's cut across country and be with the boys at the roadblock when the fight starts. There's nothing stirring here. There will be. Tell you what, I'll go up on that rise. Maybe I can get a line on them. OK, Sheriff. We'll watch things here. And I sure feel sorry for the poor old fella. The Sheriff? Well, what's the matter? Oh, it's just something to do with Dorothy May, Roy. Oh, shucks. I thought it was something important. Well, it wasn't. In broadening? Well, since Dorothy May and me had our spat, she redded her hair, you know. And the school board told her she had to white it back again. Yes, we remember. And she gave you the gate over it. Yeah, sure. Gave me the gate. Nothing. I got me some dignity. She blamed me for the whole mess, and I walked out. Well, so we heard different. Yes, well, Roy, the point is Dorothy May has been hard up for company since I left, and she's turned it a dead-rated sheriff. Hands him over to her place to take her out or something every evening of the week. Keeps him up until 10.30, 11 o'clock, night after night. Well, a man can't stand that pace long. No, not a old man. Oh, boy. Jonah, how does it happen you know all about this? Well, I see it with my own eyes, Roy. I was over on Don Wallace's roof watching through his spy glass. I borrowed from Dick Wiley. Why, Jonah Wilde. You listen a minute. Sounds like something's coming now, Roy. Yeah, there is. Take it easy, though. It's just a horse and wagon, not the trucks. They'll have to stop the roadblock. Maybe we can get some information about the trucks now. Pull quiet now. Stop your wagon for the rustlers. Send anything of the fleet of trucks? Well, no, I ain't seen nobody. It's too dark. It's Sid Kenyon, boys. Take the roadblocks down long enough to let him through, will you? Roy leans on the wagon talking with Sid Kenyon as the men take down the roadblock. In the false dawn, the outlines of bulky objects stand out plainly. But Roy and Sid are unable to see each other's faces. And thus Roy does not detect Sid's uneasiness. There are no sounds saved those made by the man at the roadblock. No exhaust or motor noises are heard, however, indistinct. Perhaps the deputy's report was wrong. Perhaps in the darkness he mistook something else for the trucks, some shadow. OK, Roy. Thanks, Pat. Go ahead, Sid. Sid Kenyon flicks the reins across the backs of his horses. And the wagon rolls ahead, quickly disappearing into the darkness. Close up the roadblocks as soon as he gets through. Can't hold him. Get those trucks. They'll make it a break there. Looks as though the whole thing was planned. On your horses, men. After them, down for Sid Kenyon. Stay on your horses. Snakes ain't found only in the desert these days. Hey, there he is. Maybe they did, Roy. Maybe we're wrong. Stop right there, Sid, about those rustlers. Well, how would I know? Your job was to get the roadblock open so they could drive through. Why, they almost killed me. Roy, they pushed my wagon around. Where are they heading with those cattle? Well, I don't know. I never knew they was rustled around here. They were back in town on Pat Sullivan's hole about them. Hold it. The sheriff's caught up with them. Climb into your wagon, Sid. Jonah, you escort him up to the highway where the posse is. You betcha, Roy. Bill, you'll now go on ahead, see if we can help the sheriff. Come on. Right after Roy's exciting adventures are over, you can do yourself a favor. Yes, sir, just go into the pantry and get a package of post-sugar crisp. Take a look at the package. See what it says? As a cereal, it's dandy. For snacks, it's so handy. Or eat it like candy. Yes, that means you can enjoy the most exciting cereal treat of them all any time of day. For instance, if you want a special snack between meals or at bedtime, you can enjoy your post-sugar crisp in a bowl with milk or cream. Or maybe you'd rather just dig right into that post-sugar crisp package and scoop it up by the handful, just like candy. Either way, post-sugar crisp is mighty delicious eating. And of course, the whole family will love breakfast better with post-sugar crisp on the table. It's so delicious as a cereal. Try it at your house, all those ways. Get post-sugar crisp in either the giant or regular sized package with the three little bears on the front. Don't let them bring up Sid Kenyon while they ride for the sound of the battle. But they got away. Every last battle. We never had a chance. They bowed right on through. Didn't even lose speed. Well, that's too bad. Only damage done was ours, I think. Three men wounded. What can I do? Nothing, I guess, Dale. Bob and a couple others are getting them ready for the ride to the doctors. Quick as they leave, the rest of us are picking up the trail again. Sheriff, wait until Jonah gets here with Sid Kenyon. Why? Well, we lifted the roadblock for Sid to go through. That gave the trucks the chance they were waiting for. I think there was a connection between the two. If so, Sid will be able to tell us about it. Nice going, Jonah. All right, put up your wagon, frogman. Where? Where's the wrestlers? They got away, Jonah. Oh, poor. Off the wagon, Sid. Come on, hurry. Look, do you want to tell what you know about the wrestling gang or not? But I don't know anything about them. Now, if you were to ask me how they're driving. All right, Sheriff, take him back and lock him up. We'll charge him with leading the gang. He's responsible for the winning of these men, too. Whoa, now, Roy. Come on, Sid. Now, you can't blame me for these things. And you can save yourself trouble by telling what you know, Sid. Yeah. Yeah, maybe I could. OK, I don't owe these armors anything. You want to know where they're taking them cattle, huh? Yeah, and we want to know right now. Well, you just follow me. I'll take you there. Get on your horses, Sheriff Dale. You too, Jonah. We'll follow Sid. But we'll watch him close, every foot of the way. He's not a man I want to trust. Posse mounts. Sid Kenyon pulls out on his wagon, followed by Roy, Dale, Jonah, and the Sheriff. Behind them is the Posse. Darkness still hovers of a paradise valley, as though to cloak the plans running through the head of the scarecrow-like little man seated on the wagon. Where the darkness to lift, we might see his eyes peering ahead, his lips moving as he rehearses, step by step, the campaign he has evolved. George Hidden Valley looks like. What for? Wrestlers with a load of stolen cattle on after a hole up in a blind canyon. Unless they're to deliver the cattle there. Roy, I'll drop back with the Posse for a minute. Go ahead, Sheriff. They should know how we're thinking. 10-star will be too late tonight to call on Dorothy May. That's for sure. Which doesn't hurt your feelings, any. Oh, poodle, don't make no mind to me. One way or the other, I flew the coop and saved by baking. Oh, sure. Yeah. Let's see about this. He is leading us into Hidden Valley. Hold up a minute, Sid. Whoa, whoa, we're stopping, boys. Sid, you're not thinking of leading us into Hidden Valley, are you? Well, you asked me to show you where the rustling gang is. They're in the valley? Well, what are these strangers to the territory? Don't they know Hidden Valley is a blind canyon? Well, sure, they rustled these cattle on order. The ombres had ordered them us to meet them at Hidden Valley and take over from there. OK. I just thought I'd warn you before we went through the pass. If they're gangs at the other end, you'll be between us and them, right in the middle when the shooting starts. The man on the wagon lets his lips move in a twisted grin. Roy turns away. Sid flicks the backs of his horses. The wagon moves on, followed by the horseman. A head lies in narrow passageway, beyond a tiny valley of not more than 20 acres, surrounded on all sides by steep mountains and cliffs. It's not anything out of Choson, myself. The gang may be at the other end of that passageway, waiting to shoot us down. We wouldn't have a chance. Any data situation? Sid Kenyon's ahead of us. They can't know that. They'll get him first, and the shot that does it will warn the rest of us. Well, yes. The thing that worries me is the gang balling itself up and, hey, Sid! He's whipping up his horses! Stop, Sid! Stop or I'll use my gun! Hide your double-cross and hold, Pat! Bring them down, Roy! And hold us outside as long as they want to. Then probably go up the side of one of them mountains, too. Sheriff, you and the posse cover this passageway. Hold the gang inside. We can do that! Come on, Dale, John. We're right. And up the steep sides of the mountain, Trigger leads the others, picking his way carefully to avoid the boulders, loose grapple, the hidden holes in fallen timber. 10 minutes, 12, 15, the horses, even Trigger, are beginning to feel the strain. Roy signals for a halt. They stop, and dismounted once. Roy moves ahead quickly. Dale and John are followed. Well, the light's a little better up here. Yeah. I can make out the trucks down below. Hey, whole little valley, all in one piece. Well, that's part of the gang. See, in that half-circle, just the side of the passageway? Sure enough, firing right into it. Trigger, come on, boy. We ought to have rifles. Pistols won't be much good at this distance. The guns we've got will be all right the way we're going after them. Whoa, Trigger, whoa, boy, whoa. Get your robes. Robes? Roy, we ain't idiots enough to think we can lure ourselves down in there, are we? I'm afraid so, Jonah. If we had parachutes, it might be easier. But since we haven't, we'll tie our ropes together and drop in behind you. The three ropes are knotted securely. Roy lowers one end over the side of the cliff down into Hidden Valley. Trigger fella, there's nothing up here we can tie this to except your saddle. I guess we can trust you to stand steady, though, can't we? Easy now. Roy ties the rope to his saddle horn. All is in readiness. He grabs hold of the line, ready to lure himself. Dale, you'd better stay up on top and keep watch, especially of the horses. Sure, Roy. Roy swings himself over the side of the cliff, lowers himself foot by foot into the battleground below. He reaches the floor of the valley safely. Up on the cliff, Jonah takes the rope and swings over. In a moment, he too reaches the bottom. That's it, Jonah. Well, the shark's going down, don't worry me, none. I just hope you don't have to go back up. Here's what we do. I'll make for the far side of the canyon. Hey, look out! Convolution! Leo! Hi. I told you to stay up on top. Sure, and leave you two down here to be killed. Alone? Listen, I'm not that kind. I figure my place is with you. Well, OK. But you ought to warn if ever when you drop out of this guy like that, my heart jump clean through my throat and hit the top of my head. You stay right here, Dale. Now that's an order. I'll make for the far side of the valley. Jonah will follow me to the middle. When we're all in position, we'll move up a little, shooting as we go. OK. I'm ready. Hold your fire until I shoot, then blaze away. Make them think there's a posse back here as well as up in front. Post-toasties, the heap good corn flakes. Sure as shooting those poppin' fresh corn flakes with that wonderful sweet kernel flavor will make you say, best thing that's happened to corn since the Indians discovered it. Post-toasties, heap good corn flakes. The best thing that's happened to corn since the Indians discovered it. Heap good corn flakes. Post-toasties, heap good corn flakes. Yes, post-toasties are so fresh, so cracklin' crisp. They won't mush up in milk. And you've just got to taste that wonderful corn flavor to believe it. Once your favorite Indians try post-toasties, mom, bet you won't have to rope in any members of your tribe for breakfast. They'll come on the gallop next time you call. Post-toasties. Post-toasties, heap good corn flakes. The best thing that's happened to corn since the Indians discovered it. Heap good corn flakes. Post-toasties, heap good corn flakes. Keep those hands up. Walk toward me. Hands up, I said. Well, I didn't mean to look at others if you want to live. Make them surrender. I, I, there's no chance for you. Jonah, bring your part of the posse up. You bet you're right. If one man tries to pull a double cross. Frogs seem like too hard a way to make a living so I decided to join him. Come on, Sid, it's time you were going back to a quiet cell. It would have been easier if we hadn't been caught. Some folks will never learn that the easy way leads into trouble. Just like some folks will never learn that there's no easy way to romance. Yes, sir, that's what you, oh, now shucks. I'm on the last page of my book. And anyway, I run my course with Dorothy May. Listen to him. Well, now I had, Dale, I had. I already made up my mind to go to a big town where I could cut a wide swathe. A fine one you'd be in a big town. Well, now, Roy, I'll have you know that one of my biggest triumphs was at Milwaukee, Wisconsin, the time they had a musical show playing there. Sure? Hey, little dancer in there, I never will forget. Now, Jonah. Oh, took my eye the first time she'd come on the stage. Yeah, I sure, I saw the show four times and then I went to the stage door and waited. Hey, my old partner is full of surprises. Why, the minute she walked out there, I just stepped right in. I said, I just stepped right up to her and I says, eh, good evening, little lady. Could I take you for a caviar supper? Not really. And she smiled real pert and she says, eh, well, but an age you don't mind if you do. Oh, wow. Well, sure, I just been passing the time with Dorothy May. Sure, I couldn't stand a woman like her for long. No, she ain't my type. I would, did you never mind, I'll get it, I'll get it, I'll get it. Well, go ahead. It must be Dorothy May. He hopes. Hello. Hello there. Yes. Well, I guess you know who this is, don't you? I guess you know who this is, don't you? Dorothy May, all right. Yeah. Yes. Right. Yes. Yes, I think so. Here, wear it on the phone, your dad. Yeah, sure, right to my face. She's got the nerve to ask for him right to my face. Jonah, I don't blame you a bit. Neither do I. There's things in this world a fella just can't put up with, and you sure ran into one of them. Hippity hoppin' Easter's on its wings to make your Easter bright and gay. He's got jelly beans for Tommy, colored eggs for Sister Sue. There's an orchid for your mommy, and an Easter bonnet too. Oh, here comes Peter Cotton. Bye, good luck, and may the good Lord take a liking to you. See you next week. Happy Lewis Day 11s, and the king of the cowboys himself, Roy Dutch and transcribed, directed by Tom Hargis, scripted by Ray Wilson, music by Milton Charles. Featured in today's cast were Frank Hemingway, Herb Butterfield, Pat McGeehan, Parley Bear, and Bill Bochum. This is Art Ballinger speaking for P-O-S-T. Post-serials. Happy Tra...