 Welcome to Hollywood. The Iron Forces Radio and Television Service brings you the Hollywood Radio Theater starring John Lund in The Iron Mistress. Ladies and gentlemen, your producer, Mr. Irving Covey. Greetings from Hollywood, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight's play, The Iron Mistress, hails not only of the exciting adventures in the life of James Bowie, one of our most famous frontiersmen, but also of his romantic attachment for a beautiful, but unscrupulous woman. And as our stars of this action-packed Warner Brothers picture, we have Virginia Mayo in her original role and John Lund. Now act one of The Iron Mistress, starring Virginia Mayo as Julia Lund and John Lund as Jim Bowie. The year 1825, the place, the French Quarter of New Orleans, a famous vicarais and a street filled with a jostling humanity. It was the confusion of these strange sights and sounds that caused young Jim Bowie to walk squally into Monsieur Audubon. Yes, and with such force, that's enough Monsieur Audubon's arm load of paintings to the cobblestone. Oh, Monsieur. I beg your pardon, sir. Oh, but can't he not see where he was? My beautiful paintings, they are all of... Let me pick them up for you. Kingfisher, a hero. Don't you paint anything but birds? Now that is the question everyone asks, especially my landlady, oh, Monsieur, that woman. As no soul, only I end up stretched for the rent. Wow, there's something different. Did you? So you do paint something besides birds. Who is she? That one. She is one of my unfinished portraits. And her name? It is thanks to her I have no roof over my head. Oh, she's your landlady. Very beautiful. My landlady? Oh, Monsieur. Obviously, he's a stranger to New Orleans. That's right, I'm just in from the bayou. Jim Bowie is my name. And mine, John James Audubon, Monsieur. Well, I'm glad to know you, Monsieur Audubon. Maybe you would allow me to buy you a drink. I am not a drinking man, Monsieur Bowie. I am a quicker. But there is a coffee house or other corner. Well, and by all means. You say mademoiselle de Borne is the reason you have no place to stay? Yes. She will not permit me to finish her portrait and so I cannot be paid and so I starve. It is all open. Seems to me you give up mighty easy, Monsieur Audubon. A better artist than a businessman, I suppose. And we are a good businessman, Monsieur. Well, I hope to be. My brothers and I own some land in a sawmill up at Bayou's cellar. I'm in New Orleans, it's so lumbered. But tell me more about mademoiselle de Borne. Oh, the judelon de Borne. She is so proud and so spoiled. And so beautiful. But she is a de Borne. And they care only for their pleasure. Now, her brother Nazi, he cares for nothing but drinking and gambling at Saint-Sylvan. Saint-Sylvan? Where is that? It matters not, it is for the rich. For us of smaller birth, here is the coffee house. After you, Monsieur. No, wait, I got a better idea. Let's go to my hotel. We'll have dinner set up in my room. Dinner? Well, of course, if you're not hungry. Oh, no, no, I accept, Monsieur, mercy by all means. Good. And after that, we'll spend the evening at Saint-Sylvan. Let's push her, please, your best, gentlemen. Oh, believe me, Monsieur Bouille, this is no place for us. We are not welcome here. Why not? For one thing, you're close. Why, my mother cut and sold this outfit special for my trip to New Orleans. Well, well, the Quaker paint-dabber. Now, that is now safety, Borne. The girl's brother? Yes, and Bronco again. The Quaker paint-dabber who considers birds more important than my sister. Oh, please, please, Monsieur, I apologize. Most abjectly. It was a misunderstanding. It's an understanding that you keep her waiting three weeks before the second sitting of the portrait. But I was up in the bayou, looking for Aaron. And there were people. Aaron? Well, my sister, wait. He apologized. You might have the courtesy to hear him out. And who are you to speak to me of courtesy? Some Claude Hopper from upriver? Nothing affecting Mr. Audubon is my affair. Oh, I see. Your name, sir. Jim Bowie? Very well, Mr. Bowie, my friend shall call upon you. Monsieur? Oh, we must leave Tom at once. Why, what's happened? Though it's been challenged to a duel. You mean because of a few words with a drunk? Yes, it is the cold. We must leave Tom. I'm here to sell my timber and I'm staying till I do it. Yes? I am Philippe Cabanal and this gentleman Henri Contrecourt. Yes, sir. The city of Bonnet has empowered us to arrange terms of the duel according to your satisfaction. My satisfaction? Since you are the challenged party, yes. Will you please name your seconds and inform us of the time and place and choice of weapons? Tell Monsieur de Bonnet I shall give him my reply as soon as possible. By noon tomorrow. Thank you. By noon tomorrow. Good morning, Jud alarm. Narcisse, I thought you were still asleep. My dear sister, I may come home late but I never sleep till the noon hour. Also today I'm expecting some callers. The second from Monsieur Bowie. Then you've heard. Naturally. Philippe Cabanal brought you home last night. He told me. That there was to be a duel or that he loved you. Both. They seem to go together with such monotonous regularity. Will you please tell Monsieur de Bonnet that James Bowie is calling? Narcisse is here. Monsieur Bowie? Good morning, sir. I was expecting to see your second. Well, I'm not used to dealing through others on personal matters. Then if you will state the time and the weapons. The time when next it snows in New Orleans and the weapons snowball. How delightful. Narcisse, present Monsieur Bowie to me. Very well, my dear. Monsieur James Bowie, my sister, mademoiselle. Jude and Ardaphne Célefine de Bonnet. A great, great pleasure, mademoiselle. Thank you. And let us hope that our New Orleans winters stay warm and warm. As you can see, Monsieur Bowie, my sister takes my affairs lightly. Perhaps because being a brother, I cannot be a suitor. I hope, Monsieur Bowie, that you speak of your own sisters with more gallantry. I have no sisters. Oh, then brothers. And your parents? Well, my father is dead. My mother lives with us. Monsieur, please end my sister's suspense. Are you or are you not married? Oh, no. I'm not. Really? Monsieur Bowie, we hold a ball at this house next Thursday a week. Will you not come as our guest? Well, uh... On one condition. Yes? Let you forgive my friend Mr. Audubon and allow him to finish your portrait. Hmm... Perhaps. Perhaps? Yes, Monsieur. Now I'm off to my tailor's, and I think you'd better meet him, too. Oh, for what reason? Well, surely you don't intend to dance with my sister in this suit? Well, I'll have to. I came to New Orleans with only $164 in my pocket. Oh, that gentleman does not pay his tailor, my friend. No, we shall outfit you from head to toe. Monsieur Cochlear will put it on my bill. Oh, but I could... Don't forget, my sister admires handsome men in handsome clothes. You know, all of a sudden I'm convinced. Still not dancing? I asked her twice and been turned down twice. And try another girl. No, that's not why I came here tonight. The Virginia Reel, Henri? Oh, but that's not until after the intermission. I know, but promise me that, Anna. You have bet someone that you will dance it with me. A man does not gamble with his life, and that's what you are to me. Don't look so sad. Then give me the Virginia Reel. I'll think about it, finish. You too, Monsieur Audubon. Even I meant for a dance, and I am not a dancing man. Virginia Reel! No, no, no, no, it must be with me. No, no, no, none of you. Now, excuse me, Monsieur Bowie. May I have your arm? Scandalized and completely. You know a girl is never, never supposed to walk out onto a balcony alone with a man. I hope you realize the compliment, Jim. Jim, are you listening? Oh, I'm sorry. I was thinking about Bayou's Sarah. Bayou's Sarah? Jutlan, have you ever been to the Bayou country? No, they tell me it's the wilderness. It is. Millions and millions of acres where nobody except the Indians and a few hunters ever set foot. But it can be changed. It can be just like the land around New Orleans here, rich with cotton and rice. I want to make it like that. And Jutlan, I want you to help me. You want me to leave New Orleans? I want you to be my wife. Jim, I... I know this is sudden. We've known each other only a few days. Yet I think the first time we met... Yes, we both felt the same thing for each other. We knew that, but... but Jim, to live in a cabin in the wilderness... It won't always be a wilderness. A log cat! No friends, no friends. Only hard work. I think it's time we went inside. Jutlan, listen to me. Don't let the life you've lived here spoil the whole future. I have no fears for my future, thank you. I'm not a Bayou woman to be grabbed and carried off at first kiss. If you want a straw for your tenses to blow, go back to your country wenches. I see. Good night, mademoiselle. Jutlan. Oh, Henri. What did he do? Mr. Bowie. Oh, let's not talk about him. Jutlan, I want to know. Please, Henri. With my fault, really, I should never have invited him. Then he did in social. I didn't say that. You don't have to. Please, excuse me. Henri! Henri, no! Nazis! Nazis! Yes, what's wrong? I'll go after the Nazis before it's too late. Where did he go? Where did he go again, Mr. Bowie? An amazing run of luck. How much have I got? Really fifty-four, Mr. Bowie. Jim! Jim! Well, the party over so early, Nazi. Jutlan, tell me what happened. You've got to leave here right now. What, I'm winning? Oh, no. Your sister wants to marry a rich New Orleans gentleman, and I intend to be one before the night is over. Please, your best gentleman. On the red, please. How much, Mr. Bowie? Everything. The play begins. You do well, Mr. Bowie. Henri. But a pig with money is still a pig. Henri, stop it. Black, Mr. Bowie. They're homeless, ladies. And now the pig is paralyzed. Were you speaking to me? Jim, Henri, listen to me. Stay out of my cause, Nazi. No! I have just made it mine. Thank you, then. You wish me? Yes. Mr. Dibone and I require the use of your garden and two rapiers. Are you ready, gentlemen? Ready. Then, halle, monsieur. Mr. Saint-Sauvain, I think you'd better send word to Madame Zeldermorne. Tell her that her brother died instantly. He shall be done. And now, monsieur Contrecourt, you were about to challenge me. Consider it done. What is your choice of weapon? Knives. Knives? I refuse to disgrace the code by using such a weapon. And keep your sword. I'll still use a knife. The sincere Saint-Sauvain can supply one. A knife? Somewhere, perhaps. Ah, yes. In my collection of guns and swords, there is a Spanish coutil, a short knife. Good. And we want a room, empty and dark. Dark? Monsieur, men cannot yell in the dark. Maybe not. But they can fight. The epic, monsieur, completely empty and dark as space and path. Thank you. But surely you will not ask me to go in there with you? No, wait here in the hall. Who is your Contrecourt? They can't see what. He's in the center. We'll meet when we meet. You ready? Very. I forgot to tell you, monsieur. I'm very good here. I guess you blame me. No. Only myself. Well, good night and goodbye. You can't leave me now. I must. I still believe in that wilderness that you despised. I'm going to make something of that land. I'm going to make something of myself. And then I'm coming back for you. Wish me luck, you lot. I wish us both luck, Jim. We may need it. Back to the Iron Mistress in a moment. Make a friend and you make an ally. There's a thought for you to keep in mind as many another American has. Take the famous all Negro basketball team, the Harlem Globetrotters. As unofficial ambassadors, in one year they played ball before more than a million people on four continents. In Rio de Janeiro, they entertained crowds from 30,000 to 50,000. During one summer, they toured Europe and Africa, chalking up another 600,000 fans. In 1952, they celebrated their 25th anniversary as a team by circling the globe. Yes, sir, the team organized by Abe Saperstein really gets around. And their exhibitions have been more than just a demonstration of American basketball. They've been a lot more. The team is a living example of American fair play and sportsmanship in and out of uniform. Abe Saperstein now carries a letter, which reads in part, the Harlem Globetrotters have proved themselves ambassadors of goodwill. On any future tours, please call on us for any help we can give. And the letter is signed by the United States State Department. In being ambassadors of fair play, the Harlem Globetrotters proved that by helping others, you help your country. Now our producer, Mr. Cummings, acts you of the Iron Missus, starring Virginia Mayo S. Udallan and John Lund as Jim Bowie. And now it is 1827. Much has happened and much has changed. But not the beautiful and dainty Udallan de Borne. In the music room of her home, she sets for still another portrait by the painter John James Audubon. Mr. Audubon, the other day you asked about Mr. Bowie. Oh, that glassy is his name. Indirectly. Perhaps you remember Philip Cabernal. Of course, he's a friend of that poor brother. Mr. Cabernal is on a business trip to Notches. I have his letter here. It seems that Mr. Bowie has bought thousands of acres of bottom land around Bayou-Sara. Cleared them and planted them to cotton. He's even made Bayou-Sara a freight stop for the steamboat. He has done all this. Oh, Mr. Bowie. Oh, Mr. Bowie. This is the newspaper clipping that Mr. Cabernal sent me. Oh. James Bowie promises to ship 15,000 bales this year. Newcomer declares Bayou-Sara No, gentlemen. As president of the Bank of Notches, I cannot extend you any more credit. That's your final word, Judge Crain. I'm sorry, gentlemen. I hope you understand. Yes, thoroughly. You want our land, it by yourself. The bank asks only what's lawfully due. The payment of the note. We said we're prepared to pay it with land. Yes, but the bank's new policy is to require cash. $25,000 by the first and second. All right. Come on, General. We're just wasting our time here. I must have been insane to have gone into this thing with you, Bowie. Three weeks from today, I'll be bankrupt. I'd better to have lost it at the gambling table. You mean that? Yes. Least I'd have been ruined with a gentleman's spot. Well, then maybe it's not too late. I think I can give you that chance. How so? Just come along with me. Unless you're too much of a gentleman to visit the lowest dive and masses, please. Mm-hmm. Bloody Jack Sturtivant. Thanks for Mr. Bowie and the General Harry, the best in the house. And now, gentlemen, his steel duke here. Got him right out there. Who ought to hurt his steel duke? A rape horse. Just in from Nashville. Need some mighty fine sick horses up there. Can you show him to the general? Right now. Just follow me. Gee, what's a rape horse got to do with us? I'm buying him for $700. You? This way, gentlemen. Oh. Now, I know you're crazy. I'll back you to the wall and you buy a race horse. Mm-hmm. The horse that's going to beat Kerry Isle. Judge Crane's horse? Kerry Isle's the fastest horse in that shed. And steel duke is the fastest horse west of Kentucky. Take a good look at him, General. Mm. He has fine points. Yes, sir. Mighty fine points. But there has to be something wrong. No statement here wouldn't be selling. You ought to be able to figure that out, General. The rules of the Duncan Cup say that horses got to be handed by gentlemen. And the high and mighty round here claim I don't qualify to that. My loss, your gain. General, the running of the Duncan Cup is two weeks off. Just in time for us. Judge Crane and his friends are so sure of Kerry Isle, they'll give us odds of five to one. All we put up is 5,000 to win 25,000. Only 5,000. You know, that's every penny of ready cash that you and I have. Well, General, well, you said you'd rather be ruined at a gentleman's sport. Mr. Turnerman, write out a bill of sale. May I congratulate you on the victory of steel duke. Judith. Oh, how wonderful to see you. I wish we'd known your horse was so fast. My husband bet heavily on Kerry Isle. Your husband? Yes. I was going to write to you, Jim. I married Philip Kavanaugh. Well, I suppose you couldn't wait for me forever. Him? Him? When you come over here? Just a minute, General. Jim, I want you to understand, Philip was my mother's choice. We do things like that in New Orleans. Besides, well, I thought I wanted a man like Philip. Whose name could match yours? The social position? Yes. But I know now I was wrong. You mean you don't love him? No. Then I'm sorry for both of you. I crave your pardon, ma'am, but Judge Crane and I must speak to Mr. Boogie. Yes, at once. Oh, well, we'll see each other later, Jim. All right. Well, General? Mr. Boogie, before my friends and I pay off our wages on this race, we want proof that you really own Steve's youth. I've got the papers right here, sir. There you are. Judge, I told you. Just a minute. This states that Jack Sertivans won the horse in a card game from one Joseph Levington of Nashville, but I don't know Mr. Levington. Can you swear that this is his signature? Are you insinuating I forged it? No, not you, sir. But we all know the reputation of Sertivans. Jim, I've already talked with the race officials. They're willing to give us time to find Mr. Levington and verify his signature. And if we can't, D.U. Duke will be disqualified in my horse to clear the win. Good day, gentlemen. Jim, we're in for it. I'm not worried. You'd better be. Crane and his crowd are bad losers. They won't stop at anything you avoid paying off. I'm well able to take care of myself, General. And now, I'm off to Nashville. I'm not ashamed to admit it, Mr. Bowie. Some of the finest swords and knives hereabouts have been hammered out on the sample. Yes, so I understand, Mr. Black. Maybe you could make me a knife the exact shape and size of this model here. Are you whittled out this model yourself? Yes. The back of the blade seems mighty thick, though. That's to give it strength. Above all, it must not snap. I've seen swords fail, knives fail. I want something that'll never fail. That's a challenge, sir. And I like challenges. Come, I'll show you something. There. You ever see anything like this before? I know. It's not a rock. I saw a fireball once. It crossed the sky bright as the sun. Then there was a roar like a hundred cannon. The death of a shooting star. And this is a fragment I found. Steel. Pure steel from another world. Tougher and harder than anything on this earth. And someday, sir, the forge and anvil of James Black are going to match it. Then let it be in my knife. I'll be back from Nashville in four days. Four days? Sir, you're not asking for a knife. You're asking for a miracle. Well, is that too much? When my life may depend on it? Then in four days, Mr. Boy. Sam, clean off the furnace. Don't leave a center big enough to make your eye water. We're going to make some steel. Yes, Mr. Black. Even better than I hoped for. And it can never be again. I fused under that steel a fragment of a star. Yes, for better or worse, Mr. Boy, that knife of yours has a bit of heaven in it. Or a bit of hell. 14,700, 800, 915,000. Give that visit of yours to Nashville, and she'll pay off handsomely. What about the 10,000 from Judge Crane? He's promised to have it here in my office by noon. And I'm here exactly on time, gentlemen. Well, very glad to see you, Judge. I'm sure you are. Jim, would you write out a receipt to the judge? I see he has the money in his hand. That's $10,000, isn't it? $10,000, which you won't have long to enjoy, General. Judge Crane. So you want blood for your money? Very well. Jim, would you be one of my second? With pleasure. Judge Crane, if you'll name your own second so I can arrange the details with him. In the hour, sir. I presume it would be a pistol. Yes. Tomorrow morning at the dead of your sandbar. Judge Crane, are you ready? Ready. General Curie, are you ready? Ready. I don't like the looks of this, General. Crane's got half of his friends along as witnesses. Well, we'll get a few on our side, too, my boy. The second, please stand away. What? Neither participant having been wounded. I ask the gentlemen to consider their honor satisfied and to shake hands. No! Again, again! General Curie! Again, sir. Very well. One. Two. Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Not even the most fixed interpretation of the code requires you to fire a third shot. Oh, but you won here. That's the important thing. Maybe. Well, I suppose now you and Philippe will be going back to New Orleans. Philip can't. Why not? Hard losses. He's so in debt to Jack Sirdovan that Sirdovan is making him see other gamblers. Well, he can just walk out, can he? No. Philip is in terror of Sirdovan. You know how deadly he is with a knife. I've heard, yes. Well, maybe I can do something about it. Oh, first you've got to get well, well. Mm-hmm. Good and well. Because I've got a lot of things to do. A whole new life to do. A new life? I've done a lot of thinking here in this bedroom. Ever since I first went to New Orleans to sell that lumber, I've known nothing but fuel, fighting for money and power. I want something better than that. So, I'm heading for Texas. Yes. Jim, could I go with you? What? I can't go on this field any longer. You know it's always been you. Ha. What does that mean? You don't love me anymore? I've always loved you. You're the reason for everything I've done since the day I met you. I've been taking with you. You're married. You're Philippe's wife. That's why I'm going to Texas. Jim, you'll never be able to get away from me. Not in Texas? Not anywhere. In a moment, act three of the Iron Mistress. Corporal Sam Adler of the Second Armored Division had an idea that he could put his talent to work for the betterment of German-American relations. His background included two college degrees in music, and he knew that there were many musicians in the Army. We organized the Seventh Army Symphony Orchestra. It was a spare-time project that soon gained official notice, and the group made a total of 44 appearances in 43 days. New and difficult scores were learned almost overnight, and German and American music was played at each concert. Everywhere the orchestra traveled, the audiences greeted it with amazement and wild applause. Here was a group, a cross-section of America, representing all races and creeds that brought together thousands of people on a common cultural and spiritual plane. There's no doubt that through the medium of music, Corporal Sam Adler made a substantial contribution to the improvement of German-American relations. Such acts as these by you and your friends today are shaping our world of tomorrow. We pause now for station identification. The curtain rises on act three of the Iron Mistress, starring Virginia Mayo, as shoot-it-on, and John Lund as Jim Bowie. As soon as Jim Bowie recovered from his wounds, he paid a visit to Sturtevant's gambling den. Yes, Philip Kavanaugh was there, dealing in the cards under the watchful eye of Bloody Jack Sturtevant himself. That brings you here. They tell me you're a pretty good mavestate. I never met a better one. You're looking at him. I, uh... I heard you never pick a fight. I'm picking one right now. All right, boys. You got the guts for a ten-foot circle, our wrists trapped together. What do you think? Boys, bring us some ropes. Tie our wrists together. Get a double whip. It is over. You won't be dealing any more cards with that hand, or needing the services of Mr. Kavanaugh. Cut us loose. Out, get out. Fatherville. Come on, Kavanaugh. I'm not through yet, Bowie. The next time we meet, you're gonna be dead. You mean if we meet? I'm leaving for Texas in the morning. Suppose I ought to thank you, Bowie, but I know you didn't do this for me. That's right. The boat for New Orleans leaves not just at ten o'clock tonight. I want you on it. I'll be there to see that you are. And just so best. By this time tomorrow, I'll be riding the Spanish trails of Texas. Alone? Yes, Felipe. Alone. Oh, Stuart. Uh, yes, sir. Maybe you know if a Mr. Felipe Kavanaugh came aboard. Kavanaugh? Oh, yes. Yes, sir. Just as the baggage to their state. Their state room? Yes, sir. I'm going back with Felipe. When did you decide that? Jim, you have so much courage. I have none. Neither has Felipe. Perhaps that's why we belong together. I'm afraid to let go of the only life I've known. I see. Oh, don't hate me, Jim. I could never do that. Then goodbye. And good luck in Texas. Goodbye, little one. I have none. I'm afraid to let go of the only life I've known. Don't hate me, Jim. Don't hate me. I could never do that. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never do what, son? Huh? Who are you? Where am I? Where? Well, a couple of ways of answering that. You're in the state of Louisiana. And you've been in the state of coma. Are you a doctor? Yeah. I'm a doctor, all right, but mostly for horses. My knife? Where is it? Knife? Maybe still buried in one of them three dead men you left on the road. Oh. That should have been four. Third of that got away. How did I get here? Oh, you were brought in style. Coming a big, fancy coach in four with servants riding up top on the box and the beautiful lady inside holding your head in her lap. Said she found you sprawled out in the road. Oh, who was she? Didn't she tell you? Yeah, I got her name written down here on the card. Mm-hmm. Sr. Rita D. Varimendi, daughter of His Excellencies, Vice Governor of Texas. Said she was on her way home to San Antonio. Let me some real Spanish doubloons, too. For your keep or for your barion. Sr. Rita D. Varimendi, daughter of the Vice Governor. Yep, real Mexican beauty. Oh, and she left this little gold cross for you, too. Doctor, how long will I be laid up? Oh, three or four weeks, I'd say. Right. You got some frightened business? Yes, in San Antonio. Oh, yes, Your Excellency. I don't speak Spanish. I speak English. I am informed you wish to see my daughter. Yes, I want to thank her for saving my life and to return the money she left with my doctor. Ah, then you are the Americano, the wounded gladiator with the face of a no-perfoment. Father. So, excuse me, Kenny, I did not mean to embarrass you, but that is the way you described him. May I present Senior Bui, my daughter, Sr. Rita D. Varimendi. You're a servant, Sr. Rita. I apologize for presenting myself to you with the dust of the road still on my clothes, but I've been so anxious to thank you and to repay you. Oh, please, Senior, I'm amply prepared to see you here, alive and well. If you wish, Senior, you may give my daughter's money to the church to the Madonna de San Antonio de Deca. I shall do so, Your Excellency. Meanwhile, I shall have the servants show you to your room. Oh, but I can't stay here. Oh, Senior, this is the governor's house to prefer any other would be most impolite. Really? Yes, Senior. Extremely impolite. Well, then, I'll be polite. Then you enjoy our Sandango, Senior. Oh, very much. I only wish I could dance it better. Oh, but you are learning most rapidly. Can you say the same about my guitar playing? No. I think I must give you many more lessons. Thank you. You know, that's just what I was hoping. Please, sit down, Senior Bowie. Thank you. Perhaps you wonder why I asked to see you alone this evening. Well, I guess you want to know how much longer I'll impose on your hospitality. This is not that. I do not speak as your host, but as the governor. You are a famous man, Senior. Even here in Texas, we have heard of your deal with your magnificent courage, and I ask myself, why does Senior Bowie stay on in San Antonio? Is it perhaps to escape some punishment by the American law? No, Your Excellency. The real reason is waiting for me right outside in the patio. Then you force me to speak, not as a host or the governor, but as a father. I like and admire you, Senior, but I cannot forget the violence stretching behind you. Good heavens, man. You've been wedded to a knife. Men have called it your iron mistress. Your Excellency, the knife is gone. Another man has it now. He's in no more duels. You have my hand on it, sir. You have mine, old soul. And my blade. Thank you. Ursula. You're talking with my father? Yes, I'll be leaving in the morning. Oh. But only to settle my affairs back in matches. Ursula, would you be my wife? Are you truly sure you want to marry me? Well, what makes you doubt it? For that day when I found you so cruelly wounded, I heard you stick a name. I did not know if it was a man's name or a woman's name. Now I know it was a woman. She's stealing your heart. No, Ursula. I don't think so. I hope you will still be able to say that when you are back in matches. Yes, sir, Mr. Bowie. That is your state room at the end of the corridor. I'll just put your bags inside. Oh, thank you, Stuart. Here you are. Oh, thank you, Mr. Bowie. I thought I saw you come aboard. Good luck. Yes. I'm on my way down to Bayou's Surra to wind up my business. And, uh, how was Felipe? No different. You saved him from Jack's third event, but he always finds someone else. But let's talk about Jim Bowie. How was Tetris? Better even than I expected. Let's go, let's go, Mr. Cabinon. Philip. I think I'm drunk, don't you? Well, I am. And I'm going to get even drunker. I lost the money. He took it all, every dollar. Jim, help me get him into our cabin. Of course. Oh, it's you, Bowie. You might know you'd find you're that long. Looks like it was a good thing. I'd hope maybe you've given up gambling, Cabinon. We've been playing with the river gamblers ever since we came aboard. Some friends sent Philip to St. Louis to sell their cotton. We left there with $50,000, and it wasn't all money. You hear me, silly? It wasn't ours. That's what I told them, and you know something. They didn't care. Where are they right now? In the lounge, I suppose. All right, I'll be back. I'll tell the steward to send in some coffee. Thank you, Jim. Thank you, Jim. Thank you, Jim. I can always count on you, Jim. Have I ever been able to say that about you? Philip Cabinon. You've made the name of disgrace for me to bear. I have. Who wanted me to gamble with somebody else's money? Whose debts have I been paying off? That's why you married me, to pay your debts. And I haven't done anything less. Not even much fine. That's right. Get out your pistol. But don't tell me you're going to kill yourself again. You bore me. You don't know. You don't know. Oh, it's no good, Philip. I'm through. I'm leaving you. You don't know? Go to bed. Jim Bowie is the cause of everything. He's always been Jim Bowie. I understand Jim Bowie is aboard. Which is his cabin? The next one on your right. Oh, thanks. But he's not in, Mr. Serterman. I just saw him in the lounge. That's all right. I'll just step inside and wait for him. But don't you tell him. We're old friends, you see. And I want to sort of surprise him. Well, I reckon so. Of course it is. Jim, I'm very grateful that you were able to get the money back. But I'm sure Philip is in a drunken stupor by now. You can give it to him in the morning. Uh-uh. I don't want to be carrying around $50,000 of somebody else's money. Well, the gamblers will just take it away from Philip again. No, not this much. I turned them over to the captain. Jim, wait. What's wrong? There at the end of the corridor. He's still it with a gun. He's going into one of the cabins. Hey, that's my cabin. Yes, they're both dead all right. I ought to know Mr. Serterman was up to something. He was just waiting here with that knife to kill you, Mr. Booty. Instead, he gets poor Mr. Cabinon. Yes. I'd better find the captain. Let me through, please. Jim. I'm terribly sorry, Jiddleon. I figured if Serterman still had my knife, I'd never expected to see it buried in Philip. Jim, the boat's coming in at Kingston. We can get off there. We? Sounds strange, doesn't it? We. It's the way it should always have been. Philip just died, and you can walk off? Yes, I'm free at last, Jim. It's just the two of us now. We can go anywhere, do all the things I wanted to do. Jiddleon. Listen to me. I thought I came back here to sell out, but in the back of my head it was hoping to find you. You've been the reason behind everything. Philippe was willing to kill for you, to die for you, like all the others. Jim. Yes, your own brother Narcisse, Contracour, General Cuny, Judge Crane, even Sertovat and his men. One way or another, they died because I was in love with you. But now, there has to be an end. Jim, if you love me... No, Jiddleon. No longer. No woman is worth the lives of eight men. You do not have to tell me what happened, Caridonio. I can read it in your eyes. You're at last free of the past. Yes, Ursula, completely free. And happier than I've been in so many years. Good. Then, no more duels? No more. The life of Jim Bowie belongs to others now. And the heart of Jim Bowie? That too is free of the past, Ursula. And you want to stay here in Texas? Most of all, I want you to marry me. Now I am truly sure. Will you be my wife, Ursula? Oh, yes, Jim. Yes. In a moment, our stars will return. Our servicemen in Europe have a wonderful opportunity to observe new customs and traditions. And they're finding out that these ideas of other people aren't so strange, after all. For instance, in almost every country, France, Germany, Switzerland, Sweden, Austria, they have traditional dances for welcoming spring. White costumes are worn, and the village dancers parade through the streets to a central point where spring is officially made welcome and the winter is buried in the past. While all this might sound strange, but as our servicemen have observed, it's nothing more than a European version of our own Easter parade. The bright costumes with new bonnets are seen from New York's Fifth Avenue to San Francisco's Market Street. Hundreds of schools and colleges hold their annual spring festivals of music and dancing. And in many New England communities, the May Pole is still circled as a welcome to spring. This community of interests among various countries is an important part of mutual understanding. True enough, a way of doing things may be different, but the ideals are the same. These customs and traditions are important to the people who follow them, and our servicemen are helping to maintain goodwill by observing the customs of other people in other lands. Now, here's Mr. Cummings with our stars. And they're coming forward for a bow. Virginia Mayo and John London. How about the Radio Theatre play for next week? Another of our twenty greats, John, and this one has a bit of everything. Music, laughter, and drama. A wonderful show for the entire family. Mother-war tights. And with one of the most delightful teams we've ever presented on this stage. Dan Daly and Mitzi Gaynor singing the song hits from this nostalgic 20th Century Fox picture. That is a favorite, Irving. Good night. Good night. William Conrad, Lawrence Dobkin, Edgar Berrier, Ralph Moody, Carlton Young, and Eddie Marr. Hollywood Radio Theatre is produced by Irving Cummings. Our orchestra is directed by Rudy Schrager. This is your announcer, Ken Carpenter, inviting you to be with us again next week at this same time for another presentation of the Hollywood Radio Theatre for Radio and Television Service.