 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. They say the frontier is pretty tough, but I live smack dab in the middle of the frontier in a rough and ready cow town known as Dos Rios. I don't think it's half as tough as folks say. Who am I? Well, I'm about the only lawyer in the county, and my handle is Chad Remington. Of course, I'm not trying to tell you that we don't have a fair share of trouble and sudden death, but what I am aiming to say is frontier or not the troubles we have, we know how to handle. Well, now, I guess it's up to me to back up what I said by giving you a case in point. It was just a few weeks ago that Cherokee O'Bannon, the ex-medicine man, was with me riding back from El Dorado, the county seat where I'd just tried a case and lost it. Now, I was feeling pretty blue about it, and Cherokee, in his heartiest manner, was trying to buck me up. Had my downcast and Dolores friend, I was to recall to you that famous old motto, but first, you don't succeed, try, try again. Well, I'm sure your advice is well meant, Cherokee, but this is one case I can't try, try again. I'm afraid that the jury was right that my client actually was guilty. Yes, I guess that's the difference between us. Any case I get, I keep working on. You're sure right about that. The cases you get, you work on until there isn't one bottle left. Ah, yes, yes indeed. That's one of the... See, look at that. Looks like the days of 49 with those lumbering big wagons coming down the pass up ahead. Except those aren't Conestogo wagons. From here, they look like freighters. Now, it wouldn't surprise me any if they were hauling supplies up to where they're building the new railroad that's gonna come into El Dorado. Yes, you're probably right about that, Chad. And incidentally, I think it's a rotten shame that they don't make Don Srias' railroad junction point instead of El Dorado. Oh, mister, I can't agree with you there. The first place El Dorado is a larger town. It's a county seat. They do three times the business there compared to what we do in our little one-horse town. Yes, I... Say, Chad, what do you think happened to those wagons? I can't see them now. The road through that pass winds down through the little canyon in Santa Rock and... Billy Blue plays this, Chad. Where are those shots coming from? From the canyon those wagons went into. You see the little puffs of gun smoke? Need I do? Need I do? It's a long haul and we may not get there in time to do any good, but come on, the least we can do is try. By the time we got there, there was nothing to see. That is, there was nothing to see, but signs of what had happened. Born on a ranch and owning a small one, the signs were fairly unmistakable. Cherokee and I just mounted and poked around. Well, Chad, maybe you know what the shooting was all about. I don't. I'm not saying it's as plain as the nose on your face. But it's just about as red. Sir, I resent that, didn't I? No insult intended, Cherokee. Look here, you see these feathers on the ground? If I'm not mistaken, those feathers came out of some Indians' ward dress. You mean to stand there with your eagle eyes squinted up and tell me Indians ambushed those wagons? I mean to tell you that there were Indians here. In judging from the feathers, Comanches. The thing that baffles me, though, is first, apparently the Wagoneers didn't fight back. And second, after the Indians rode off, the wagons apparently proceeded as usual. You know, somehow or other this attack looks like it might have been pre-arranged. And it beats me. Those wagons were freighters hauling railroad supplies. What would Indians want with stuff like that? Well, it beats me too, Cherokee. But since it's coming to sundown, I'm not going to waste any more time standing out here speculating. Nope, I'm climbing back on that broken-down Mustang. I ran it from your livery stable and heading home for Dos Rios. With all I had to do in Dos Rios after a five-day absence, I must admit I didn't give the unexplained wagon attack much more thought. In fact, nobody in Dos Rios was particularly interested because everyone was talking about the new man who'd moved to town, chapped from Kansas, or so he said, by the name of Doc Stonebender. Not only had he moved to Dos Rios, but he'd leased a store building with a large store room and immediately started to option property all over our valley, except for a few pieces that he bought up. Well, I hadn't been back in town more than 24 hours when Doc Stonebender came to call on me. To make a long story short, Remington, if we can get together on a price, I'm prepared to take an option on your ranch and pay you $300 for it. Well, now, Stonebender, this is sheer curiosity on my part, but you must have a mighty good reason for wanting to tie up all the property I've heard you've optioned here in Dos Rios Valley. I sure have. You see, when I operate, I operate big. That's how I've made my money. And that's how I happen to operate on the scale I do. Yeah, I see, but what's your reason? Well, from the wagon loads of that stuff I've seen being unloaded and taken into your store, you've got a heavy investment already in this valley. I'll tell you my reason. I've done a lot of looking around. I've decided Dos Rios Valley is going to boom. If it does, it's going to make me a rich man, a very rich man. However, you haven't given me your answer yet about your own place. Well, I'm afraid the answer is no. Perhaps I'm a little sentimental about it. My father homesteaded the ranch and I was born there. But on the other hand, looking to get married someday, if there's any easy money to be made here, I'd like to make it too. Certainly, a lawyer doesn't have to make his money out of a few acres of land. When the boom comes, you'll make plenty out of your profession. That's right. If the boom comes. Matter of fact, in my opinion, any land boom in these parts ought to hit El Dorado with the railroad coming in there, not Dos Rios. Oh, I think they'll have a quick spurt at El Dorado, but... Well, I'm a busy man, Remington. I'll raise my offer to 500 for the option. If that'll interest you. No thanks, Mr. Stonebender. If you're going to get rich out of Dos Rios, it's all mine. I'm glad you came down here to the stable, Chad. I saw that stranger. What's his name, Stonebender? Booksters, do you're off? Oh, no such luck. He wanted to take an option to buy my ranch. Offered me $500 for the option. Would probably have paid me a fortune for the ranch if he ever bought it. $500 just for an option. That man must be made of money. Which, as I think of it, is a lovely thing to be made of. He may be made of money, but I don't think too much of his brains. My dear young man, any man with the money he must have must have brains to spare. The business act human sticking out of his ears. Why, a man like that doesn't have to drink whiskey. He could drink champagne. Well, if my ranch is ever worth what Doc Stonebender thinks it's going to be, you can have all the champagne you want to drink at my wedding. Which reminds me, Libby and the judge are good enough to invite me for supper at just about time I was getting over there. You lucky young devil having a beautyist damsel like Libby interested in you. Be sure to convey to her and her father my sincerest regards. And if it can, so the date for that wedding party soon. I must admit I'm getting pretty thirsty for champagne. What a cigar, Chad. No, thanks, Judge. I'm afraid your daughter really doesn't approve. Well, I certainly don't. Not so bad when daddy smokes them outside like he's doing tonight, but I'm sick and tired of sweeping up ashes off the parlor rug ten times a day. Young lady, don't forget who paid for that parlor rug. Don't let the judge scare you, Libby, by all that talk about paying for rugs. When I get married, I'm not going to have a rug in the house. Probably can't afford it. Well, that's a fine way to make an impression on your perspective. Excuse me, Libby. I think I see someone coming. If I'm not mistaken, it's Cherokee O'Bannon. Hey, Cherokee, is that you? Yes, it is, Chad. I'm certainly glad you're still in town. Something wrong, Cherokee? Evening, Judge. Evening, Miss Libby. I don't know if something's wrong or if it's just my imagination. But if you'll excuse Chad, I'd like him to come with me. Good night, Cherokee. We just finished supper. Don't you know it's not polite to eat and run? Well, I haven't eaten, and I run all the way here. Because I think I found something that ties right into what happened to those freight wagons the other day on the way home from El Dorado. Freight wagons, Chad? I'll tell you about it later, Judge, but if Cherokee is right, I better be leaving now. Cherokee grabbed me by the arm and practically ran me three blocks back to town. Then, turning down the alley behind his livery stable, walked me another few hundred feet until we were right behind the back door to the storeroom of the big building Doc Stonebender had rented. Two doors away from Dos Rios' biggest and noisiest saloon. Hey, Chad, where'd my strike man? See? See those wheel tracks there in the dirt? Yeah, I can make them out all right. Notice those nail marks? Shoes were fastened onto the wheels? Those aren't the same wheel marks we saw in that canyon the other afternoon. Where you found the Indian brothers, I'll drink a quarter of milk. The very thought reposes me. Cherokee, I'll be dug on if I don't think you're right. Why should those freight wagons we heard being shut up the other day suddenly appear here in the alley behind Stonebender's store? I knew I wouldn't have gone and gotten you. You got any answers? No, not really answers. It's certainly something to think about. Come on, I'd hate to be found snooping in this alley. Let's take a walk when I think this over. Well, Chad, got any answers yet? No, we thought those wagons were hauling railroad supplies. But if Stonebender's interested in the railroad over at El Dorado, why should he be optioning all the... Hey, Cherokee, you see that buckboard coming toward us? Look at his split. Yes, I do. Find one thing about horses, that team's running away. Good grief, Cherokee, with the crowd that's in town tonight and all the horses at the hitch-rack, that runaway can start a stampede. Billy Blue blazes, Chad. We've got to stop that buckboard and quack. Come on. Cherokee, there's a man on the seat. Looks like he's fainted. Here, help me turn his head around. What happened, Mr. Are you all right? There's a railroad to get help. Railroad work crew wiped out. Railroad work crew? You mean at El Dorado? Yeah, El Dorado. Indians, hundreds of them wiped us out. Cherokee, this thing's starting to fit together. Look, were the Indians Comanches? Yeah, Comanches. Hundreds of them crazy with liquor and shooting like they were. Chad, is he... is he gone? Yeah, afraid so, Cherokee. He's gone. What he told us is certainly going to cost somebody something. Wouldn't surprise me if it cost that somebody his life. We'll return to the second act of the Valley of Lawless Men, our exciting Frontier Town adventure in just a few minutes. Now, Frontier Town. With that fellow riding in from El Dorado with the news that the Comanches had attacked the railroad work party and wiped them out, not only did Doc Stonebender's part in this mosaic of mystery become more obscure, but with the nearest cavalry post located much too far away to be any help, I roused out the judge, and with Cherokee's help, we soon organized a meeting. With everyone trying to talk at once, no one can say anything. How you know what the facts are, the Indian uprising which wiped out the railroad work party. And we're here to find out what we can do about it. Judge, judge, I got a question I want to ask you. See that this is the time to ask questions. That's what I say. We call this meeting to get some action, not to answer a lot of questions. Yeah, some questions of my own. All right, Molly, in you two, Abe, let's get to the questions and get them over with. With this here and all railroad work party being wiped out, can anybody tell me if the railroad's still going to go ahead with their plans of running their rails into El Dorado? I'd like to know if I want to. And over here, answer a question like that. And besides, what difference does it make with the Commenshes on the warpath again? I'll tell you what difference it can make, Judge. So happens I own a lot of land over here in Dos Rios, and so do some of the other folk here. I'll be dirtin' if I want to see us go out and shut up fightin' them Commenshes just to help their other town. Are you all in your right senses? Do you really mean that people have been killed and probably more people have been killed? And you want to sit so finally by and do nothin' about it just to line your own pockets? Chan, fighting is risky. It costs time. It costs money. And I'll be blamed if I want to not only take a chance on gettin' shot, but spend my money when all I'm gonna get out of it is seein' that El Dorado gets a railroad. Your dog gone before he go fight the engines, and up with some money in the bank instead of some men up in Boat Hill. I've never heard the likes of this in all my born days. You know what it says in the Bible about worship and mammon. Now, friends, I just can't believe folks who are as decent as I know you are could even feel this way. You leave your doors open. You'll feed drop-line riders. You'll boast about how neighborly westerners are. And still, on the slim chance of making a dollar for yourselves, you'll let those comanches go on slaughtering decent people without lifting a finger. Well, you know that ain't our job. Molly was right. What's the cavalry for? Good heavens, by the time the cavalry could get up here, we might all be slaughtered. Remington, I haven't heard anybody here say they wouldn't fight to protect their own homes. So why keep threatening everybody by trying to make it appear that the Indians are right at our own doors? Well, Judge, you've got the gavel. You might as well use it. The only thing we're getting out of this meeting is complete disgust with the human race. This meeting stands adjourned. Just like I always knew when I used to sell my genuine Cherokee and in rattlesnake oil. What's that, Cherokee? The genus, hopo sapiens, is all for every last penny you can make. Think I could have sold any of my oil for two bits if I didn't tell them it was worth $10? No, sir. That's why I always said, you say five dollars is too much. You say you want more for your money? Very well, then. As a special advertising inducement, I'm going to offer this miraculous remedy today for just 25 cents. The suckers? I suppose Cherokee's right, Jed. But if those Comanches ever come over to Dos Rios... No, they wouldn't dare, Judge. They're safe around El Dorado because all the mountains and hills to hide in. This valley's too flat. It certainly would be a... Wait a minute. I think I've got an idea. Idea? What, Jed? And I did. It teach the folks around Dos Rios a lesson. You know Chief Grey Bear, don't you, Judge, the chief of the Honour Wander tribe? Yes. A few years back, I got him out of some trouble. Since I wouldn't take a fee for it, he made me promise that someday I'd let him return in the favor. What have the Honour Wander's got to do with this situation? Nothing right now. But if you'll write out and pay a call on Chief Grey Bear with me, Cherokee, I think we could teach our friends and neighbors a lesson they'll never forget. Now, do you understand, Chief? Do you know what I want you to do? Me understand, Remington. All you gotta do is get your bucks to put on war paint, the kind that Comanche's wear and pretend you're Raiden Dos Rios. That doesn't make good Christians out of them, nothing well. We'll do. But today, Comanche have many white men's rifles. Also got plenty of firewater. Firewater? Say, Chad, maybe I could dress up like a Comanche. Mister, you hold your horses, and I mean your livery-stable horses. Grey Bear, do you know where the Comanche's got that firewater and those rifles? Do not know for sure. But here talk, white men give them whiskey and gun. I had the great horned spoon, Chad. Maybe that's what they stole out of those wagons the other day. Maybe it's what they got out of the wagons, but they never stole them. If they'd stolen them, why would the wagons have driven off before we got there? Oh, sir, I think it was pre-arranged that they stopped those wagons so they'd look good. Chad, I'm starting to think you arrived. What's more, I think your friend Doc Stonebender is the culprit behind it all. Now you're cooking with spring water. I'll bet that's why Stonebender's optioned all that land in Dos Rios, hoping the railroad would build there. If you say, truth, this be plenty bad, white man. Plenty bad, Chief, but we're not going to convince our neighbors that while they still think they can make some money out of it themselves. But a vile commentary on the disgusting weakness of mortal man. You're right. Now, Chief Gravebeer, I have your promise of help, haven't I? Me give word, me do. Good enough. There's a late moon tonight, and if you hit Dos Rios just about ten o'clock, we'll teach those people a lesson they won't forget for the rest of their lives. If nothing else, that visit to Chief Gravebeer and the Honour Wander suddenly showed up big-hearted Doc Stonebender for the miserable sneak and vulture he really was. But knowing he'd still have the town's support, we didn't do a thing until Chief Gravebeer engineered his Comanche attack. Just about ten o'clock when half the town was in bed and the other half in the saloons, the red-skinned tidal wave suddenly swept down the main street. The whole attack didn't take much more than a minute. And with the judge, Cherokee and me trying to help by blocking exits and getting in the way, no one was hurt. That is not physically. But there was a mighty shaken crowd of neighbors gathered in the street when the Indians had finally vanished. Well, I ain't ashamed to admit that I was wrong. Me neither. I mean either I say let's arm up and get after them during Comanche. Now, just a minute, folks. Just a minute. I'm positive those were not Comanches. Oh. And what makes you so positive, Mr. Stonebender? I guess I know a Comanche when I see one. Yeah, I guess you do with that. But from what you told me, you've only been out in this country a short time. How come you're able to identify Comanches better than we are? Why, I... I'll tell you why. Because you've been dealing with the Comanches. Because you're the low-down Maverick who's been furnishing them rifles and feeding them liquor. You got them to attack the railroad work party just to force the railroad to build here and make money for you. Don't listen to him. He's either crazy or he's deliberately lying. I don't like that called a liar, Stonebender. In fact, I don't like it so much. It makes me fightin' mad. Get into the talk, young chap. I use those gold teeth. Anything to oblige a friend. And now... Now, if you all want to see if I was lying, come on. We're busting a lock off Stonebender's storeroom and fighting out just what it is he's got stored in there. Enough rifles for an army. And enough of that cheap red eye to steam up ten tribes of Indians. Know what I think? We ought to smash those liquor barrels and pour them out in the street. Polly Seward for shame. I'm aggrieved that you're wantin' wasteful now. What would you like to do with that firewater, Mr. O'Bannon? Why, what would any thinking man want to do with it? Put out a fire. Well, why should we give it to you? Certainly you don't think you're the hottest man in town. Maybe not. But if you deny me that supply of free libations, there'll be nobody in DOS Rios as burned up as I am. In Teartown, starring Tex Chandler is a Bruce L's production. Story and supervision by Joel Murcott. Direction by Paul Franklin. Music written and played by Ivan Dithmarz. Be sure to be with us again same time next week for another fine action adventure story with your favorite young western star, Tex Chandler. And now this is Bill Foreman telling you that Frontier Town came to you from Hollywood.