 In a moment you'll hear James Stewart as the six-shooter, just one of the many fine programs brought to you each week on NBC. Tomorrow night there's top comedy entertainment with the Bob Hope show, the Phil Harris Alice Faye show, and Can You Top This with Senator Ford. Bob Hope delivers rapid-fire comedy routines while Phil Harris and Alice Faye bring you both mirth and music. It's a great Friday night lineup of comedy programs, all of them heard only on NBC. James Stewart as the six-shooter. The man in the saddle is angular and long-legged. His skin is sun-died brown. The gun in his holster is gray steel and rainbow mother-of-pearl. It's handled on marks. People call them both, the six-shooter. The NBC radio network presents James Stewart as the six-shooter. A transcribed series of radio dramas based on the life of Britt Ponsett, the Texas Plainsman, who wandered through the western territories, leaving behind a trail of still-remembered legends. Halfway Crick sure wasn't much of a town. Oh, that was General Store and Cafe, Groom and House, and a blacksmith shop. That's about all there was to it. And I never figured out where the place got its name, either. It didn't seem to be halfway to anything. As a matter of fact, it was right at the end of the trail from Santa Fe. The only thing further west was a couple of small farms, and Gidd Baskin's Double 7 Ranch. That's where I was heading at Double 7 to see if I could sign on with Gidd for the spring roundup. Wow, it didn't look like I was going to have to ride out all the way. Oh, boy. Oh, there was Gidd himself, pounded down the main street. Five or six fellas behind him. Well, he had that many men working for him already. He probably wouldn't have much use for me. Britt Ponsett! Hi, Gidd! Where in the name of Moses you come from, Britt? Oh, no place special. I was landing some railroad track out of Denver, first fell. But then I thought it was about time for me to hit the saddle again. Well, if you're looking for a job, we can always use an extra hand, can't we, boy? It's mighty nice of you, Gidd, to tell you the truth, I was sort of hoping that you had room for another... Well, go on, Britt. Oh, I guess you've got enough help here without me. Well, my outfit's been growing since you were through here last, but we're stretched clear over to Patsy Hill. You don't say. Hey, hey, it takes a lot of riders to cover that much ground. Yeah, yeah, I guess it does. Oh, come on then, let's go. We're on our way back to the double seven right now. Or maybe, uh, maybe next round up, Gidd. Well, what's the matter with you, Britt? You said you were looking for work. I reckon I'm what changed Ponsett's mind, Gidd. I reckon he's a little too fancy to ride alongside me. How about it, six-shooter? You boys know each other? We met up. Yeah. Well, take it easy, Gidd. I'll be saying... I'll hold up a minute, Britt. You go ahead, boys. I'll catch up with you. I want to talk to Ponsett. You're wasting your breath. I'm still bossing the double seven, Clint. I don't need no advice from you. Sure, Gidd. Better cup of coffee, Britt. Oh, thanks. I guess I could use one. Yes. Christy, I don't eat the best cook in the world. He can usually get his coffee down without a gagging it. All right, Christy. Still running the cafe, huh? Sure, sure. Count ain't changed much, Britt. Not on the surface, that is. Oh. Oh, come on in, Mr. Baskham. Come on in. Hello, Christy. You remember Britt Ponsett? Britt, well, for goodness sakes, when'd you get back to town? Just a little while ago, Christy. Ah, you sure look well. Fit as a fiddle, Mr. Ponsett. Fit as a fiddle. Now you both sit down at that table over there, and I'll bring you some of my special for today. Beef stew. I made it fresh this morning. No, thanks, Christy. We just came in for some coffee. Well, it's half to four o'clock. It's practically time for supper. Yeah, coffee will do the trick for now. Oh. Well, what about you, Mr. Ponsett? A little taste of my stew? No, no, no. I think I'll just stick the coffee to him. Oh, okay. No, hurry. Well, Britt. Mm-hmm. Is Clint right? Is it on account of him? You don't want to work for me? I never said that, yet. You sure acted it. Well, to tell you the truth, I was sort of surprised that you'd hire a man like Clint Sutton. Britt, I just didn't have no choice. Oh. Like I told you, the double seven's been growing. When a ranch gets big, well, I guess a man's bound to make enemies. You need somebody who's handy with a gun around. Mm-hmm. You've never had any enemies before, again. Yeah, well, time's a different now, Britt. What do you mean by that? Well, do you remember those sod busters down by the creek, Perry Waddell and Fred Gover? Sure. Well, there's been some new ones moving in the last year, so... Well, that isn't your land along the creek, is it? No. I never claimed it was. I always figured there was plenty of space around here, rooming up for me and them nesters, too. Well? Now, I ain't been like some of the other ranches, you know that, Britt. I ain't never tried to run the sod busters off or burn them out. Live and let live, that's what I always said. I try to practice my preaching, too. Here's your coffee, again. Right off the stove. You sure you won't have nothing now? Oh, thanks, Christie. Here you go. No, no, hold on. Keep your hands away from your pockets, Britt. I guess I can afford a couple of cups of coffee. Well, thank you, Mr. Vaskill. I've got some bread in the oven, so if you want anything more, you just have it. Boy! You bet it's sorcerous for a spell. Let it cool off some. Wow! It's not the heat, it's the taste. Gee, boys, that stuff's... What's as bad as the coffee I make myself? Worse. I guess it's a good thing we didn't order none of Christie's, too. Yeah, yeah, it is. Now, anyway, Britt, about Clint Sutton. Now, there was a good reason for hiring him. They've been stealing my cattle. And what? Yeah, their nesters. No. Now, there ain't any doubt about it. My tellies are short. After the roundup, I'll know for certain how many they got away with. Well, now, kid, it doesn't stand a reason that men like Waddell and Garver had rustled your animals. They're in a rough spot as it is when they're living right next to the edge of your ranch. Well, they must know that you could shove them off of there and bring them back into it. I guess they know that, all right. Anyway, one of them tried to shoot me. They... Were you sure of that? No, I didn't see who it was. Not for certain. But there ain't been any strangers around halfway crick lately. So? Sutton's a stranger. I hired him after the shooting. I had to have somebody, Britt. My own boys ain't very fast with a gun. They ain't had much experience lately. I was just asking for trouble bringing Clint Sutton here. Britt, the trouble's already started, and I didn't start it. They did. Of course, if I had known you were coming into town, I wouldn't have taken Clint on. Well, if what you wanted was a gun, I'm not the man for you. I reckon Clint is. Well, that's the way you feel, Britt. That's the way I feel. Maybe you'll change your mind after things quiet down. Or maybe there won't be a serious mix-up with them sad busters know that I mean business. I wouldn't count on that yet. Well, thanks for the coffee. Well, I was getting on toward evening now, and I was beginning to feel some hunger pains down the pit of my stomach. I sure didn't like the idea of saffron cristillates stew, though. I figured I'd be better off to buy some cold grub at the general store so I had them across the street. Just as I started to go in the front door, I saw somebody staring at me from behind a wagon over to the blacksmith's shop. The sun was directly behind him, so I couldn't tell who it was exactly, not until it came around into the shade. Britt, is that you, Britt? Huh? Yeah, yeah. Don't you recognize me? Perry Waddell? Oh. Oh, sure, Perry. The sun was in his eyes. I couldn't see it. You... you busy, Britt? No. No, I'm not spacing. Well, I'd like to talk to you if you've got a minute's spare. Best to go in a wagon here this morning. I'm waiting at Sam and Todd's, see if you can put it together. Mm-hmm. Well, how things been going with you, Perry? Not so good, Britt. Not so good. Yeah, I was just talking to get a basket. What's the time of the trouble, anyway? Same old story I reckon. Big ranch, small farms, it just ain't room for them both. Oh, there's always plenty of room before. Perry, good tells me that some of his cattle are missing. Oh, that's just his excuse to get rid of us. Uh-huh. And I ain't no thief, Britt. Oh, of course not. Of course not, Perry. But I understand that they've been some new families moving in, is that right? Any farmer who steals and gives, he's heard you, he'd be plumb local. He'd just be asking for good to burn him out. Yeah, that's true and honest. I suppose good told you somebody took a shot at him, too, and said it was one of us. He mentioned something about it, yeah. He just needed a reason for bringing that Clint Sutton in here. Clint's a killer, pure and simple. Think bad enough that good wants our land. He's got to hire a gunfighter to take it away from us. Well, get never objected to your farms before, Perry. There was always plenty of other land waiting for him. Now, he's pushed his ranks clear to Apache Hill. He can't go no farther in that direction, so he's got to spread east. And we're in his way. That just somehow doesn't sound like good. He sure seems sincere when I talk to him. Now, I'm almost certain he believes somebody's been wrestling his cattle. Britt, I swear to you that I never smudged a later hand on any of his dogs. Well, that's not a my concern, Perry. I'm leaving town anyway. Well, you can't leave. You've got to stay here. I what? You're the only man who can stand up to Bascombe and Sutton. Oh, and I'll hold on. We couldn't pay you much, but we'd all chip in and give you what we can. I told good I'm not a hired gun. I've got to tell you the same thing. Britt, Britt, my farms, all I've got in this world. I spent 21 years trying to build it up into something that'd mean a decent living for my wife and kids. Nobody's going to take it away from me now. Well, I understand that. Well, look at that. Looks like somebody's in a rush, huh? It's Ruth Lovett. He's homesteading the place right next to mine. Ruth! Ruth, what's your hurry? I've got to see you, Perry. Sure? Yeah, but it's real important. Well, I was just going under the star anyways. I'll see you later. No need for you to rush off. Ruth, this here is Britt Ponson. You can speak your mind in front of him. That's right. That's right. Real pleased to meet you, Mr. Ponson. Howdy. What's all the fuss about, Ruth? They're going to burn us out tonight, Perry. You sure? Yeah, one of the kids's own men told me. Well, I was just talking to him just a little while ago, Ruth. He never had any intention then. Maybe he's changed his mind since then, Mr. Ponson. Maybe he didn't feel like advertising what he's up to now. Perry, we've got to get together. All us farmers. Oh, sure, Ruth. We'll hold them off. Hold them off while we wouldn't have a chance against a man like Clint Sutton. Well, we've got to do something. We've got to fight back. We'll fight back all right, but on their own ground. What do you mean? Well, they'll be riding toward our farms tonight, getting all his boys. There won't be a soul over at the double seven. Yeah? We'll show Git Baskham. He ain't going to have everything his way. We'll burn him out while he's burning us. Oh, Ruth. I sure don't see what you'll accomplish by that, Ruth. I get it'll take twice before he tries to shove somebody else around. That's what we'll accomplish. Maybe so. But it won't save your farm. What else can we do? Well, you might try talking to Git. See if you can find out what's eating. Talk, talk to waste of time. Oh, I don't know, Ruth. Maybe he'll listen to reason. Has he ever listened to us before? Well... Listen, what about Clint Sutton? Who's going to reason where that gunner is? I kind of forgot about Clint. Britt? Not now, Perry. Britt talking to Git is your idea. Yeah, I know it is. I know, but I... No... No, God, Perry. All right, I'll see if I can hit him off. You and Ruth go back to your farm to stay put, huh? Okay, Mr. Ponson. You don't know how much this means, that's Britt. Yeah, yeah, I see. God. Maybe someday I'll learn to keep my dog gone. Ideas for myself. We'll return to James Stewart as the six-shooter in just a moment. If you're a teenager up, a loyal American male or female, your country needs you in the Civilian Ground Observer Corps. You've heard the radio broadcasts, seen the television pictures. You know the facts. You know what a single H-bomb dropped in any metropolitan area could do. And today's long-range bombers have made intercontinental war possible. Enemy planes based on the other side of the world could reach the United States in a matter of hours. Radar can help detect them. But there are dangerous gaps through which low-flying planes can penetrate without detection. To fill out our detection system, civilian personnel is needed, particularly along the east and west coasts and in the northern states. Sky-watching is not a game. It's a necessary precaution. The Ground Observer Corps is now operating on a 24-hour-a-day basis and needs at least 200,000 volunteers to contribute a few hours of their spare time to this vital work. Will you volunteer? Get in touch with your local Civilian Defense Center at once. Now, act two of the six-shooter, starring James Stewart as Britt Ponsett. Get Baskham's ranch house with about a three-hour ride from town. So around about eight o'clock, I figure, I was halfway there. The moon was just beginning to silver up the top of Apache Hill. I hadn't been too sure of the trail, but now the things were lightening up some. I gave Scarlet a nudge. Come on, let's go. It was a real sandy country. A purple sage every now and then, once in a while, a pine tree or two. We must cover about four miles, and then we came to a little creek. From there on the trail started to wind into a kind of a jagged ravine with a couple of tall yellow rocks at the mouth sort of sticking up straight in the air like a couple of fingers. We were just getting past those rocks when I heard what sounded like about a half a dozen horses coming toward me. Whoa, whoa, whoa. I pulled up and waited. Oh, hot again. What are you doing out here, Britt? Oh, I just thought I might come out and take a look at the double seven. Some other time. You, uh, in a hurry to go somewhere? That's right. We're in a hurry. Oh, oh, hello, Clint. Come on, kid. We ain't got all night. Right. Uh, will you mind telling me where you're heading again? Look, I offered you a job this afternoon. You turned me down. I don't see where anything I do from here on in is your concern. No, no, no, sure isn't. But I was just noticing, and it looks to me like you've got the whole crew with you. What if I have? Well, it must be something kind of important to take you all the way out here, away from the ranch this time of night. We're going to burn out a bunch of Stephen Russell. Is that important enough for you, Ponsett? Plants! Now, they might as well know it. You can't do nothing to stop us. What happened, Ged? You weren't planning anything like this when I talked to you a little while ago. Clint found five of my steers over in a canyon behind one of them farms. Well, maybe your steers got lost. Maybe they just strayed over that way. And hobbled themselves? Well, even so, it seems to me like this is a matter for the law. There ain't no sheriff in halfway, Crick. You know that, Crick? Well, there's a sheriff at Bixby Falls. Somebody go over and get him. You get him if you want him, Ponsett. We've got other things to do. No. Go on, Ged. No, I wouldn't let Clint hurry me if I was you, Ged. What difference does it make? It might make a lot of difference. Seeing as how those farmers were talking about paying you back if you go after them. How'd you like to know what they could do? Well, they sort of had an idea that they could burn down the double seven. What? Well, they sure must want to get themselves killed. Uh-huh. It doesn't look to me like there'd be anybody there to kill them, Sutton. Look, he's lying. He's just trying to stall us. Uh, do you think I'm lying, Ged? Turn around, boys. We're going back to the ranch. Are you crazy? Get them nesters with me. I said turn around. Now, let's go. Now, I watched them for a minute or two. Moving along through the ravine, heading back to the double seven. I could hear Clint arguing with Ged. Ged didn't seem to pay much attention to him. Then a swung scar around toward Halfway Crick. Must have been about 30 minutes later when we came down to a narrow stretch of trail that twisted down the side of the cliff. Easy, easy boy. Easy. The moon was sliding under a thick, milk white cloud and rocks and the trees started fading into nightshadows. For a minute or so everything got real still. Even the crickets. Huh. Somebody else was taking the same trail. It sounded like he was following me. I got a kind of a crickly feeling across the back of my neck. I started wondering maybe Clint Sutton. I twisted around to see if I could get a look. I had to squint my eyes. Finally I made out the shape of a horse about 40 feet back. He was just standing there and nibbling on a couple of tufts of grass. Wasn't anybody in the saddle. Right then the cloud over the moon started skidding away and the trees began coming back to size. I was just about to give a scar a touch of the spur when I saw him. Crouching low behind a clump of pines. I saw something else too, a little glint of metal. Whoever it was had a gun. I jerked out of the saddle, hit the ground, looked around for cover. The vein was closed. It was too darn close. Well, it couldn't be Sutton. I knew Clint's style of gunplay. He might miss one shot and he wouldn't miss twice. Then I spotted a little gully a few feet to my left and I called toward it, keeping as low as I could. I was almost there before he had a chance to fire again. When he did, I started rolling and I tumbled down into the draw. I took out my gun. I was hoping he'd think he'd hit me, that his bullet had sent me over the side. I couldn't hear him move. I pressed flat and I pulled up behind a couple of big tumbleweeds. I sort of cut down my chance of him spotting me. He was coming now. He was going to be at the edge of the gully in a couple more steps. I shoved my gun up and sort of gauged where I thought he'd show. Then a leg came into sight. I'm more than six feet away. Then his body swung up into view. And just before he fired, he went down on his knees fast. I swung out of the way and his bullet cut through one of the tumbleweeds. I gave it a shove and the wind sort of caught it. He fired again. He wasn't firing at me now. He's firing at the weed. He had to rise up in the sight to get aim. The bullet slapped him on the shoulder and for a minute he sort of hung in midair and teetered on the edge of the draw. And then he pitched for me and toppled down beside me. I turned him over and got a look at his face. What? Well, what the thunder are you trying to do, Roof? You should have been able to recognize me. It wasn't as darned as all that. I recognized you, Ponson. What? You shouldn't have meddled in this. It would have burned us out. It hadn't been for you stopping him. Well, you wanted him to burn you out. It's going to happen anyway, isn't it? Sooner or later. Well, not if you didn't force them to it. Their grandchildren don't need no force. What are you talking about? I don't understand you, Roof. It was your farm he was going to burn. You're talking like you hoped it would happen. I think I care about that farm. I had me a farm once down in Texas. Good soil, brown, soft, rich, plenty of water, too. A man could grow anything on that land. Well, what happened to it? Well, there was a ranch. Bigger than Gid's outfit, even. But it wasn't big enough. Not big enough to suit the fellow owner that he kept stretching out, crawling down from the hills, moving his fences closer and closer until one day they was right up against my property. They offered to buy me out. They offered me good money, but it was my farm. I didn't want to sell no matter what he was willing to pay me. Yeah, come on. I'll pull out your shirt, too. Try to see if I can get that bleeding to stop. Yeah. You think you'll be able to ride? I don't know. Give me a couple of minutes. Oh, sure, sure. Well, go on now. You were telling me about your farm down in Texas. Ain't much more to tell. I wouldn't sell it. And Nancy, she was my wife. She told me I was wrong. I'd have to give in, but I didn't listen to her. I should have listened and burned this out. I see. I wasn't there when it happened. I was in town. Nancy, she tried to stop him. They killed her. Oh, I'm sure I love it. They killed her and left her there in the house while it burned it. Couldn't even give her a decent burial there was. Now, take it easy, Rose. It don't matter what becomes of me, Ponce, it's not anymore. After Nancy... Well, afterwards I'd come up here to New Mexico. Maybe I could start over. Maybe things would be different, but there wasn't no different. There's always a ranch and a fella like Gibb Baskin to shove you around. I watched him. I watched him spread not clear to Apache hills and then he couldn't go no further in that direction. I know he'd be coming my way. Well, I wasn't just going to sit around and wait for him like I've done before. So you stole Gibb's cattle. Is that what you're saying? I didn't have nothing to lose. I was going to be burned out anyways. I even took a shot at him, but it ain't much good what they've done. I guess it kind of showed that tonight. Well, it wasn't Gibb. It burned you out down in Texas, Rose. Luke was a rancher just like Gibb. Rolled the same ponset with her grabbing, burning the children. I figured if I stirred up enough trouble to force Gibb out in the open, maybe then some of the other farmers would come along with me and we'd burn him up. He'd get a taste of his own medicine. I'd be paying Gibb back for what he'd done to Nancy. But Ruf, I'm trying to... I can still see how it was that night. Smoking ashes everywhere. First, I couldn't believe it that they killed her. I started to holler and holler and still my throat was so sore the sound just wouldn't come out no more. But she didn't answer me. You know, I thought maybe she'd run off somewhere as they'd scared her. And she'd run away. And I saw her. Over behind a pile of smoking timbers, her clothes was all burned out. That's what he'd done. That's what Gibb had done. That wasn't Gibb. Ask him now. Get a hold of yourself. I've got to make it up for Nancy. I've got to burn the double 70. You're coming to town with me. Town? Come on now. Can you stand up? I guess so. Who are you? You come along. Here, let me give you a hand. What about Luke Harper? Luke Harper? You ain't been listening to me. I told you I've got to get even with Harper for killing my wife. That's what I was going to do tonight. Burn down his ranch. Now, I told you... I know. I know, yes. You told me. But you just better forget about that for now. I couldn't forget. Not ever. Come on, Luke. Come on. You and me are going to town. Huh? Here, I'll help you on your horse. Come on. Thanks, mister. Thanks a lot. You've been very kind to me. Funny. There's something wrong in my shoulder. Somebody... Somebody shot me. Did Luke Harper do that, mister? Maybe he did, Roof. In a way, maybe he did. I took Roof as far as Perry Waddell's house and Perry went in to get the duck. It looked like Roof was going to be all right, at least it looked like he'd get over that wound in the shoulder. But whether he'd really ever get well again, I guess even the doctor could have told that. The next morning, Gid Baskham rode into town, found out what had happened. He said he was willing to forget about the stolen cattle and the other trouble Roof had caused him. And he said he'd get rid of Clint Sutton, too. He didn't come right out and admit it, but I've got a hunch he was kind of sorry that he'd hired Sutton in the first place. It just goes show you there's differences in ranchers like anything else. The six-shooter is a transcribed NBC radio network production in association with review productions. It is written by Frank Burtz and is based on a character created by him. Mr. Stewart may currently be seen in the Universal International Picture, the Glenn Miller story. Others in the cast were Lamont Johnson, Gerald Moore, Bob Griffin, Polly Bear, and Howard McNeer. Special music for this program was by Basil Adlin and the entire production is under the direction of Jack Johnstone. All characters and incidents were fictitious and any resemblance to actual characters or incidents is purely coincidental. Oh, by the way, you'll be interested in knowing that the six-shooter has been chosen for broadcast to our men overseas through the facilities of the Armed Forces Radio Service. This is Hal Giffney speaking. Gearing Time brings you highlights from the Senate Committee hearings tonight on the NBC Radio Network.