 Slaughter's my name. Luke Slaughter. Cattle's my business. It's a tough business. It's big business. I've got a big stake in it. And there's no man west of the Rio Grande big enough to take it from me. Luke Slaughter of Tombstone. Luke Slaughter of Tombstone. Civil War cavalryman turned Arizona cattleman. Across the territory from Yuma to Fort Defiance, from Flagstaff to the Wachukas, and below the border through Chihuahua and Sonora, his name was respected or feared depending on which side of the law you were on. Man of vision, man of legend. Luke Slaughter of Tombstone. Folks who write dictionaries must have a pretty tough time with the word tolerance. I guess if you had to boil it down to just one other word, maybe it would be understanding. Some of us here in Tombstone found that out when I gave Chief Margano and a few of his Apache braves the loan of a couple of sections of my spread to try their hand at cattle raising. And I got chewed out plenty about it every time I went into town. Well, you call it an experiment, Slaughter. I call it an invitation to those sneaking the patches to murder you. Well, they're living on my spread. Don't you figure it's my business? Well, they won't stop with you. Once they smell white blood again, they'll massacre everybody in Tombstone. Look, Mr. Vail, Margano's through making war. He's trying to understand our ways. He's even trying to get his people to adopt some of them. Well, they adopted guns quick enough, but they'll never be cattlemen. This was their country before it was ours. They've got a right to be part of its progress. You can't just shut the Apaches up on a reservation and forget them. No, maybe we can't forget them. But if we drive them back to the Chiricahuas, we'll at least have some warning when they strike. They aren't going to strike. Margano and I have sort of a, sort of a private treaty. Margano's a senile old fool. You got a private treaty with that trigger temperate son of his? Lasha, I like him too. He's intelligent and he's got spunk. Spunk, my foot. Luke, I've been looking all over for you. I want you to make the acquaintance of Mr. Henry Fell from back east. Fell, this here's Luke Slaughter, my boss. And this here's Carter Vail, another big man in these parts. Howdy. A distinct pleasure, gentlemen. Indeed it is. So, you're from back east, Mr. Fell? Yes, indeed. Boston. You know, boys, Mr. Fell here can outdraw any man in the place. Well, he can, my guy. Yes, sir. I'd bet a month's wages he can even outdraw you, Luke. I'm afraid neither Mr. Fell nor myself have any special reason for drawing. Well, he's got plenty of reason. Oh, not necessarily against you, of course. He'll take on all comers. You think you could outdraw me, Fell? I have very little doubt of it, Mr. Vail. With what? You aren't even packing an iron. Well, you want to take him on, Mr. Vail? Why, he'll even furnish the weapons. Let's, uh, let's just forget about it, gentlemen. Forget it, nothing. Well, may as well learn some of the facts of life in the Arizona territory. Exactly what I came to do, Mr. Vail, to learn them and record them for posterity. All right. I doubt that you'll ever record this incident, but you can start by trying to outdraw me. With Mr. Fell's weapons? Yep. Hold on. Why spill blood over a silly bar room challenge? Now, you've been implying that I shouldn't mix in your business, slaughter. Well, this is mine. Well, correct. Now, Mr. Vail thinks he can outdraw Mr. Fell. I and Mr. Fell don't think he can, and the loser buys a round for the house. Splendid. I don't indulge, but I shall be delighted to stand-treat if I lose. You ridiculous little dude. All right, let's see the gun. I'm unwrapping the weapons. Nobody mentioned guns. You draw with ease, Vail, and here's yours, Vail. Paper and a piece of charcoal, what is this? Why are outdrawing match? One, two, three, draw. Something you've done. We should have both been wise to which, Vail. He's got a sense of humor like a cow-bubble. Watch, Mr. Fell, Luke. Ain't he the cleverest? Nose flaring, lips tight, chin, braggy, power. Hey, wait a minute. Is that supposed to be...? Hurry up and draw something, Vail. He's almost done. I'll be doggone, Vail. Suspending image of you. Hmm. There we are. Yeah, yeah. Well, looks like you're stuck for the drinks, Mr. Vail. Well, now look here. When a man challenges me, just... If anybody thinks this is a laughin' matter... Well, now, there is no offense attended, sir. You are more than welcome to the little sketch, and I shall be delighted to purchase the libations. I don't wealth no best. Frank, set him up for the house. Come on, boy. You're a good sport, Vail, and it's mighty good likeness, too. Well, I... I guess I will take the picture home with me, Vail. Mrs. Vail is... Well, women sometimes enjoy it, do they, like this. Luke, you know what Mr. Fell's doin' here in Tombstone? Well, keepin' you in free drinks. No, sir, he's... Well, that too. But he come west to paint engines. Well, the engines do their own paintin', with war paint. Slaughter and I were just talkin' about that. We weren't gettin' anywhere, either. War paint. I understood that the treaties with the Apaches were working out nicely. They are, when the white men live up to them. Well, that is practically treason against your own race, Slaughter. If it's treason to compare some members of my own race with Indians like Cochise and Margano... Well, I'm guilty. Tell us a little more about what you plan to do, Mr. Fell, and... Well, I want to paint the strong Indian faces, their customs, the way they live. But people back east have some amazing misconceptions about them. Yes, so has Slaughter. He trusts him. I'm trying to understand them. Anyway, Mr. Fell, there are some very interesting and colorful Apaches living on my spread. You'll have models for all the painting you want to do. And the Apaches will have a brand new candidate for buzzard bait. I know you don't feel right out of a saddle, Wichita, but we're going to need this corral. Oh, oh, there it is. Ah, good morning, Fell. How'd the Mrs. like your picture? Well, uh, she, uh, she wants your friend, Fell, to paint one of her. You know where I can find him? I'm afraid he isn't available today. I took him out to the Apache camp at sunrise, loaded with paints and brushes and canvas. He was happy as a chipmunk in opinion for us. Slaughter, a tender foot like Fell could be just effused to set your Apaches off. Suppose he tries to paint one of their women. Chief Margano explained about that to him. He said, a woman who gazes too long at a reflection in a clear stream forgets her life's purpose. Ha, ha, ha. Them Apaches got the right idea about their women folk. How to marry one, make her hammer this corral together. What are you building the corral for, Slaughter? So Margano won't steal your mustangs? Well, for once, you came sort of close to trapping me. I'm going to try to improve the range mustangs with some Morgan breeding stock. I figure there's no use tempting Lasha and his young buck friends way beyond their conception of our property laws. You and your fancy talk about your Apache friends. You don't trust them anymore than I do. Sure I do. I just don't expect them to understand a whole new code of ethics overnight. Hey, somebody sure poundin' a lot of leather. Yeah, it sounds like... Look, Wichita, it's Phel on that little ron we left out there for him. Well, I never thought a dude like him could ride. Slaughter, he's in trouble. I got it, steady, steady. Wichita, help him off. Sure, sure. Wait, Mr. Phel, what happened? Your clothes is ripped. That mare's lathered up like you was going to shave her. That's all right, I guess. I saved most of my paints in this canvas. Mr. Slaughter, those Indians are far from friendly. What? They set upon me the one you call Lasha and another red-skinned blackhorn. I told you they'd do it, Slaughter. They'll be coming after us if we don't go after them first. Hold it, Phel. Let's find out what started the trouble. Nothing I did, I assure you. I was painting a portrait of the old chief with his permission. Lasha and this other young buck came up when he took one look and knocked me to the ground. Well, how'd you get away? Well, for the moment, the old man seemed as surprised as I was. This Lasha rush to him, started a jabber, and what I assumed was a patchy, and I wrenched loose, grabbed what I could, and somehow mounted this horse. Fortunately, the Indians' horses were still hobbled. The miserable, sneaking cowards tried to murder you in cold blood. Don't be too sure. Maybe this was Lasha's idea of a prank. Oh, I doubt that. Lasha's friend, who I eluded with the aid of an elbow to his Adam's apple, was holding a knife to my throat at the same time. Yeah, it is a nasty cut on your arm. Well, that was a nasty knife. You'll have to take care of that wound right away. Is this the picture you were painting? Yes, it's a bit the worse for wear, but I can repaint the smears. Well, that's Margano's profile, all right. Except you made him look almost decent. All right, slaughter. I'll head for Tombstone and get the men together. What for? To drive those Apaches back to the Chericovas. There's any left when we finish with them? This happened on my property. As soon as I get fell-fixed up, I'll ride out and get the whole story. A white man has been attacked. It doesn't matter whose property it happened on. It's a matter of defending the community now. Listen to me, Vail. You fire a shot or even go near Margano. Dig sand, man. It's an engineer. Yeah, dead stack of rails. Crawl for it. Up there on the rise, a mounted Apache. Vail, don't fire. Try and stop me. I'll have to. Keep his gun for him, Wichita. Sure. Lasha. Pustin, slaughter. Have you gone loco? Not on you. Are you alone? I am alone. Then drop that bow and ride to me. Send white eyes, fell to me. Enemy? Lasha, you the parley like a man or Saint's your father. I wouldn't try that. We only got to noon, Luke. There's 20 braves in the camp and plenty of them got rifles. Vail could round up more men than that. But I'm not going to let this turn into war. Luke, did you ever stop to think that maybe you could be wrong about engines? In a moment, Luke Slaughter of Tombstone returns. This is Bud Sewell with official results on the automobile competition The whole industry watches every year. The famous mobile gas economy run. This year's run, 1883 miles from Los Angeles to Texas, ranging from sea level through mountain passes. And once again, Chrysler Corporation cars took the lion's share of firsts. Plymouth, Chrysler and Imperial again this year for the second straight year, winning first place over all other cars in their class in the famous economy run. Imperial, by the way, was Sweepstake's winner too, getting 62.71 88 ton miles per gallon. The forward look is a lot more than look. You get a better engine, brawnier brakes, torsion air ride at no extra cost, and winning performance in economy in cars of the forward look from Chrysler Corporation. Take a drive this week in a car of the forward look. Plymouth, Dodge, DeSoto, Chrysler or the Triumphant Imperial. Drive one of America's performance winners from Chrysler Corporation. Act 2 of William N. Robeson's production of Luke Slaughter of Tombstone. Carter Vale came too in a fury. He swore to drive the Apaches back to the mountains. He swore he'd settle with me after he'd done it. Then he mounted his big stallion and spurred back toward Tombstone to recruit men and guns. Luke, he's mad enough to eat the devil with his horns on, and I ain't so sure he ain't got a case. He will have. If Lasha brings his braves back to take Fel. If I had incited those Indians, I'd tell you, Mr. Slaughter, but I assure you I was attacked without provocation. Let me see your painting of Chief Margano again, Fel. Whatever you're gonna do, Luke, do it, pronto. This is good. You've captured the strength of his profile and courage in his eye. This ain't no time to act like one of them are critic dudes. We're two hours away from being caught in a war. I once saw the funeral rite for an old chief of the Chinamacha tribe in the Louisiana Territory. His son was very much concerned about the way the body was laid out on the funeral pyre. So that when the dead worry him at the Great Spirit... Fel, could you make another portrait of Margano from memory posed as I tell you? Certainly. I have his features fixed in my mind. I wouldn't need a model. Let's go up to the house then. You've got a picture to paint. Fel painted a new picture of Margano. We rode for the Apache camp a little before noon. The picture was a gamble, but I had to force a parley or deal with a possible massacre. What if they ambush us? They won't. But you can bet that the Apache scouts are escorting us in. I certainly don't see them. An Apache could hide behind one of your paintbrushes. I don't know the rules of me. We will. If it turns out I'm right. And if you ain't? And we're all in a game of showdown for mighty big stakes. Now pull down to a walk now. The camp's just the other side of this wash. Easy now, Botherian. Don't let the welcoming committee scare you until false move. What welcoming committee? I don't see no... uh-oh, right out of the mesquite. Oh, oh, oh boy. Margano and Lasha wait. White eyes come with me. We're all coming. That's the buck who's slashed me, Mr. Slaughter. Don't worry. He's acting under Margano's orders now. It appears like we beat Vail here anyhow. Not by much. See that Indian riding up to the edge of the mesa? Yeah, yeah. He's telling Lasha and old Margano something in sign language. White riders coming. Bound to be Vail and the men. Did anyone ever surprise an Apache? Never twice. Plenty far now. Whoa. Whoa there. Oh. This mount, men. Wichita, unbuckle your belt and let your guns drop like I'm doing. But you... Do it. Margano, we come in peace. What of the others who ride toward us? I want this young brave and Wichita to ride out and meet them with a white flag. We'll use your shirt for that, Phil. Good. I got to surrender without even my gun. Get started, Wichita. And make sure that Vail's men walk their horses into this camp. Sure. All right, Luke. Now, Margano, Lasha, suppose you'll meet us halfway. We want no parley. Give us white eyes without a shirt. Lasha, you insult me when you insult my friend. Now walk toward us, both of you. Lasha will avenge his father. Avenge him for what? Your father is just as I saw him this morning. My son says, little man who draws with colored stick, tell lies to great spirit about Margano. Your son is wrong. I do not tell lies. You speak with a tongue that has no wisdom. You strike out like a child who can't reason. I'm a man. I've killed Zuni warriors and Yaki warriors. I have told my son that killing can no longer be the way of the Apache. He replies that even white men kill to avenge your wrong. The wise white man and the wise red man make sure a wrong has been done before they kill. Nothing should be decided in the heat of anger. We've followed it too long. White picture make a tell lies to great spirit. Order! You're handing this like a... All right, right there, Vail. Where are the rest of your men? Well, they can cover this place with their guns if you've crawled your way into a trap. I explained that you sent out the white flag, Luke. And don't ask me to drop my guns. I don't aim to die before I pump some lead myself. We've been having a little talk about hotheads. And now that the place is crawling with them, Mr. Fell and I'll show you how wrong you all are. Margano. Where? Hastin Fell has a gift for you. I am not softened by a gift from one who lies. Fell does not lie. His gift is the old white cloth he carries. Give it to your Apache friend, Mr. Fell. Do not touch it, my father. Take it, Margano. It's your likeness. The likeness Hastin Fell had not yet finished when your son so stupidly attacked him. No, no, do not look upon it. All right, I'll make you look at it. Oh, my own son has told... Hey, Lasha, behold. What? This morning the picture had but one eye, but one ear, but half of a mouth. I told you, Lasha, Hastin Fell had not finished. Do you think that a friend I brought to you would insult your great spirit and your father by drawing him with half a face when he has two eyes as piercing as the eagles? My people shall remember their chief as they see him here, as Hastin Fell has painted him. Lasha was a fool. I will go from my people and never return. No, Lasha. Your father and your people need you. Today you've become wiser. The best thing now is to, well, just forget this foolish trouble. Now what are you doing? Hastin Fell has no shirt. He will do Lasha an honor if he will accept Lasha's shirt of those skin. Oh, I shall be very pleased. And you will make a picture of Lasha when there's no pain in your arm? Oh, my arm feels fine, Lasha. I'd like to paint you and I can assure Mr. Slaughter that I will not attempt another profile. Profile? I do not understand. It's nothing, Lasha. Just a word painters use. Now, Vail, suppose you let your army know the war is over. As I turned toward Vail, Ponton the early young Apache was drawing his knife. I leaped for him, but Vail was off his horse in the same instant and hurling himself at me. Mr. Vail, what do you punch him for? You think I want him to start a war? Might help him up, Wichita. Anton, you go ahead and throw your knife. What? Well, Anton, well... It is an evil knife. Evil spirits bewitched it. It harmed a friend. Anton hurls it from him. You see, Luke, he was naming to harm nobody. You claim to be such an expert on Apache customs, Slaughter. And an expert on hotheads. And now we're square for the punch you landed on me this morning. Right? Right, Vail. I've been spouting about how tolerance and understanding are pretty much the same thing. I guess we both understand a little more about our neighbors. And if your jaw feels like mine, I guess from now on we're going to be a lot more tolerant of each other. Luke Slaughter of Tombstone, starring Sam Buffington, was written by Fran Van Hartisfelt, with editorial supervision by Tom Hanley, and directed by William N. Robeson. Supporting Mr. Buffington were Junius Matthews, Karl Swenson, Ben Wright, Don Diamond, and Jack Krushen. Music was composed and conducted by Amarigo Moreno. I couldn't sleep that night and nothing. My mother said, what was the matter with you? It looked like something wrong. I said nothing. Nothing, he said, but there was something wrong. That night in the park, this boy and his juvenile gang had stabbed and beaten another teenager to death. The victim, Michael Farmer, son of a fireman. He was a very courageous, spirited boy. He was athletic. He was an excellent student. And we had great plans for his future. It's a hard thing to realize that there is no future any longer. For Michael Farmer's father, the future is blank. But for the rest of us, what implications does this crime hold? Tomorrow night, on most of these stations, CBS Radio's Unit 1 probes the causes and effects of the brutal New York gang murder for which four teenagers have just been tried and convicted. You'll hear gang members, police, parents, all probing for an understanding of the tragedy. As Edward R. Murrow narrates Unit 1's penetrating study, who killed Michael Farmer? Tomorrow night. Next week at this time, we return with... Slaughter's the name, Luke Slaughter. When we meet up again, you can call me that. Luke Slaughter. This is the CBS Radio Network.