 P.O.S.T. P.O.S.T. Post. The serials you like the most brings you the Roy Rogers show, starring the king of the cowboys himself, Roy Rogers. It's round up. Time on the Double-R Bar, so saddle your horse. The Double-R Bar Rats transcribe stories and songs of the real west with the whipper-wills, the wisest trail scout of them all, Jonah Wilde, played by Forrest Lewis, the queen of the west, Dale Evans, and in person, the king of the cowboys, Roy Rogers. Folks, this is Roy Rogers. If you want to do mom a favor, remind her to keep post serials on the shelf all the time, buffaroos. Remind her tomorrow before she does her shopping. You can count on anything bearing the brand-name post. Well, sir, Dale, Jonah and I are in the mountain area north of Paradise Valley. We rode out here with the sheriff, hoping to find some trace of Don Wallace in his gang. Just played out, Roy. We may as well admit we lost him. I'm afraid you're right, sheriff. Roy, you folks go home. If I run into anything, I'll send for you. Hey, Tin Star, are you trying to get rid of us? We're staying, sheriff. We've got to take Wallace before we have any peace in this valley. Yeah, that's it, Roy. You tell him. Thinks he can send us home. Poo. Say, poo, poo, poo. I wasn't talking to you, General's boy. And stop calling me General's boy. Hey, listen. You just wait till next election, sheriff. I'll get you out of office if I have to vote 400 times myself. And I'll be done. Listen, will you? Oh, tumbleweed with the badge pinned on. Somebody's singing. Clear out here in the wilderness. Yeah, sounds pretty, doesn't it? Yeah, it's pretty. An awful mountain. Say, I think I recognize that, boys. Somebody named Sore Throat Sidney, I suppose. No, Harry the Howler. He sung in the choir. Roy, I didn't know anyone lived in these hills. Nobody does, Dale. Cut me right off. There's some shepherds over there, ways, but not close enough for them to be heard. Seems odd we'd hear singing out here at night, especially. Listen to some holler-sounding music, but cut me right off. I doubt if any Wallace is a gang of singers, but let's track down that voice just to be on the safe side. Come on, you trigger. He's quit singing now. Yeah, yes. A fella with any brains wouldn't sing on a winter's night anyhow. He wouldn't sing on a winter's night. Cold makes the vocal cords draw up until you can't sing nothing but flat-based notes. Now, you take Harry the Howler. Look around here. Oh, sure, can't even get a start tonight. Isn't that a peaceful scene? I've been thinking the same thing, Sheriff. The moon shining down on the snow and the pine trees. Those hills stretching off as far as a person can see. It's hard to believe there could be any bad in the world on a night like this, isn't it? There. Sure enough. It's him again. Look on past that little rise. Some umber squatting by his campfire. Now, I don't see. Oh, yeah, sure enough. Maybe we ought to write on down there and warn him. Better go see if he's a lookout. He ought to be warned. Sounds like he's beginning to flat his notes already. Jonah. Roy and the Sheriff think he may be a lookout for Wallace's gang. Or more likely, he may have run across their camp. We'll take it easy going down. And maybe we can get right up on him before he knows we're around. This is close enough. He doesn't look like a gunman. Sage, you notice how skinny his neck is? Vocal cords starting to draw up already. Howdy there. Well, howdy, strangers. Come on over and get warm. Careful, Roy. Let's not walk in any traps. We'll watch it, Sheriff. Oh, thanks, we will. Sage, you think I ought to warn him about his neck now? Or wait? Let's wait until we see if he shoots us first. Am I good to have a company? It's a speck lonesome out here. So lonesome, I was down there singing to Mahoros. And, well, this is nice. You're enough. A lady. Howdy, miss. Howdy. You can call me Prodigal. Everybody else does. My name's Fred, though. Fred Papert. And unusual, isn't it? For a man to spend a night like this out here? Well, there ain't nothing a man had picked. I set out to find a fellow called Don Wallace. But Mahoros went lame. Don Wallace. Is that what you said? Don Wallace? Well, yes, something wrong. Just a coincidence, but we're looking for the same man ourselves. Well, now, ain't that fine. He's married to my kid's sister. You know him well? Not as well as we'd like to. How long has he been married to your sister? About two years, I think. But I can't be sure. I left the territory for the wedding. I didn't cotton to Wallace much, you see. And after him and me had some hard words, I took off. So you just left? Yes, I did. I just had a yearning to come, feeling I ought to be here. So I emptied out what little money was in my pocket, bought some grub, and started. Oh, I bought these, too. They're for sis and the baby. Baby? My kid's sisters, and Wallace's. Convolution. Here's what I got. A pair of cowboy boots. That's for fear it's old enough to be walking. This rubber thing is for it to chew on and bring out its teeth in case it's real young, like I hope. And this, I wanted to get one thing that was real fancy. Fancy as that could for the money I had. So I bought a picture. Oh, it's beautiful, Prodigal. Sure is. A real artist drew it. I figured sis had hang it over the little fella's bed, and them three angels would look down and sort of guard him all the time he was asleep. Prodigal, when did you hear about the baby? I didn't, for real. It just come to me that they had one. But it comes so strong, I know they have. Well, say now, if you find out where he is, we know this territory. We can take you right there. Thank you, no. I couldn't leave my horse here when he's hurting. That means spending the night out here. Yes, but it's real pretty tonight. I just thought I could look up at the sky and think about the baby. And sort of imagine there was angels up there singing the way there was once when another baby was born. Yeah, it's on account of the picture. I got thinking about such things. Say, you folks don't have them to sing, do you? Yeah, no, no, not on a cold night. You see, the chill makes the vocal cords draw up. Yeah, we all sing a little once in a while. Fudge, a song out here in the mountains that sound real good. Sure it would. Let's see if we can think of something we all know. Say, how about Cowboy's Dream? Oh, good. All right. Tonight, I'm a tired, weary Cowboy. I've been in the saddle, searching the hill for cattle. How about singing a course with us, Prodigal? All right. Roll. It floats out under the cool moonlit night, high in the mountains like an answer to the murmur of the pine trees. A look of peace comes to the worn face of the young Cowboy called Prodigal. He's with other human beings, his own kind. That alone brings a contentment to his long mist. While they sing, a sound comes as though someone was close by. None of the singers say Roy hears it, and he makes no sign lest the spell of the music be broken. That's sure done, Mole. Hard good. Yes, well, we'll all be talking flat bass notes by morning. What's the matter, Roy? Don't anyone move. I think we've got company. I raise their hands and don't move. This surrounded, you're covered from all sides. We have convolution, Mr. Wallace. Now, boys, we made quite a haul here. The sheriff and Roy Rogers, among others. You two kept us up here in the hills so long we're hungry. We're after grub. Howdy, Don. Prodigal, a big brother-in-law. I always know that you was no good. Where's Sis? I'll give you the news some other time, Prodigal. Gordon, you and Charlie get the guns. Charlie, you bet. Put them in the saddlebags. Now then, where's the grub? I wouldn't touch that grub, Wallace. It belongs to Prodigal here. It's all he has. Well, this isn't enough to do us one meal. What are these things? You keep away from them things. Kid-sized cowboy boots, a teething ring. Let them things be. Look, angels, a picture of angels. They'll take it along to handle the wall of her hideout. Here, Charlie, catch the angel. Ah, what's the matter with you? I said to catch. You broke it, Don. That picture was something special. You broke it. Prodigal's face, even in the moonlight, is pale, except for the fire that burns in his eyes. Roy signals him to be quiet, but he pays no attention. I'm going to kill you. He lunges, clips Wallace on the chin. Wallace pulls the trigger of the gun in his hand. He grabs the gun and drops into the snow. Stay right where you are, I warned him. Come on, Don. We got the grab and we got the guns. They're hapless. Let's get out of here. Yeah, all right. Now, be smart and don't follow us. We got the guns. As Don Wallace and his outlaws leave, Roy, Dale, Jonah, and the sheriff bend down over the silent form of Prodigal, lying in the snow. It looks as though he's pretty badly hurt. We ought to go after them, poor catch, Roy. We will. We'll run them down. But we have to get some help for Prodigal first. Roy, I think you said there were some shepherds in these hills. Yeah, their cabin will be the nearest shelter. Hang on, Prodigal. We're going to have to move you, fella. And I expect it'll hurt some. But we'll see that you're taken care of. They'll be riding out and getting Wallace short. You can count on that. Say, are you caught up in the rush of last minute shopping? Well, here's something you don't have to shop for. Your corner grocer has it. And it's a gift you'll want to give yourself often. It's crinkles, post-new rice cereal that's sugar-coated. Candy-kissed rice, it's twice as nice, for a breakfast treat that can't be beat. You will have a circus eating crinkles, boo-boo. Sugar-coated cereal, crinkles, boo-boo. Candy-kissed rice, it's twice as nice. Yeah. Candy-kissed rice, it's twice as nice. So you will have a circus eating crinkles, boo-boo. Yes, sir, you will have a circus when you dig into crispy, crisp crinkles. The new rice cereal, it's already sweet. That's right. No sugar needed. You just add milk or cream and eat. You never had nutrition so good. Mighty good eating comes snack time, too. So get in a good supply of post-new crinkles. Roy, Dale, and Jonah, accompanied by the sheriff, give first aid to the wounded cowboy who says he is called prodigal. And then start on their journey to the other side of the hills. Dale carries the presence prodigal as bought for his sister's baby, being especially careful with the broken picture of the three angels. The air is cold. The moon shines down with a clear, almost mystic light as they ride across the snow and arrive at the shepherd's cabin. They must be sleeping sounder than some law officers I know. I hope there's nothing personal in that remark, General's boy. Let's try the door, see if it's open. Hello in there. Just a minute, I'll let a match. Listen, we'd better be careful. Don Wallace and his gang may be here. Or maybe they've already been here. There. Hey, empty. Well, come on, we'll go in. Now, it looks as though the shepherd's left in a hurry. Their supper's still on the table. And it wouldn't be here if Wallace had been here. His gang is out of food. We'll put prodigal on the bunk here. Let's get a fire started as soon as we can. Yes, yes, I'll do that. I'm the best fire builder east or west of the Rockies. Well, prodigal, you coming too? Yeah, I guess I am. Roy, look here, right front. Sure enough, I figured the shepherd's would have some. Plenty of ammunition, too. That fixes us up good. Prodigal, as soon as we make you comfortable, we'll head out after Wallace. Dale will stay with you, won't you, Dale? You bet. The trail's fresh, and there's not much doubt what we'll find the gang now. But there's a lot of them, and we'll need all the help we can get. The cabin warmed and prodigal made comfortable. Roy, Jonah, and the sheriff ride back across the mountain to the place where they were attacked by Wallace's gang. There, they find the trail, plainly marked in the snow. They follow it, determined that men as ruthless as these shall not be free to rob and kill. They ride for several miles, then suddenly bring their horses to a stop. Woo-hoo, woo-hoo, here you go. Hey, let's have a look at this trail. I thought things were going too good to last. It looks like they've split up. The trail's divided. No, I don't believe so, Sheriff. These are two separate trails. One probably leads to their hideout, and the other away from it. Wallace is just smart enough to build camp at the end of a blind canyon. Well, suppose we throw a couple of shots in there and see if anybody's home. Yeah, now I'll put one right through that middle that lean to. Well, looks as though they're not at home. What you think we better do, go back and follow that other trail? No, let's wait right here till they ride back. Trigger fella, I've got a job for you. I want you to go back in there and wait for us. Go way back in the canyon, wait. Understand, fella? All the way back. Go on now. You know, Shaw, he ain't got no horse now, Roy. You can't pull cats right back. If they come back, we'll let them go on in and bottle them up. It may be handy to have Trigger in there and behind them. I see what you mean. They're just one thing that worries me, though. They may go over to the Sherpards' cabin looking for food before they come back here. Convolutions, Dale and Prodigal are there all alone. Sheriff, I wonder if you'd mind going back and taking care of things that that in. I know, but what if Wallace and his gang come back here? You and Jonah? Looks as though we're going to have to split forces if we make sure of getting these rattlers. Besides, Jonah and I have been in tight spots before. Haven't we, Jonah? We'll make out all right. The sheriff leaves. Roy and Jonah settle down to wait at the entrance to the blind canyon. And in waiting, the moonlight begins to look less beautiful. It is cold. The light is ominous. The wind blowing into the canyon makes their feet and hands grow numb, their ears tingle. They wait patiently, though, while they're after men who are killers. Hey, somebody's coming. Yeah, and it's a gang, too. I don't suppose it'd be good manners to pick them off one by one as they ride by us, would it? I'm afraid not, Jonah. We've never yet shot a man without giving him a chance. And we won't begin now. Roy and Jonah wait. Wallace, leading the gang, rides the rest of them, then on into the canyon. It would be easy to do as Jonah suggested, shoot them down one by one in the half dark of the night. But instead, Roy and Jonah wait. Sure is a lot of them, ain't it? We'll wait until they get about halfway into their camp, and we'll go to work. Listen to me. We're giving you this one chance to surrender. Well, personal, I hope he takes it. Who's out there fucking so big? Roy Rogers, and I'm not alone. Just be careful. You're in the middle, Wallace. We've got help behind you. Throw down your guns and ride out with your hands in the air or we'll open fire. Here's the answer, Roger. Let's go to work, Jonah. Roy and Jonah level their rifles and begin firing. The outlaws answer with their guns. They won't scare. Roy will have to put his strategy to work. Keep firing, Jonah, but high now. Fire over their heads. Anything you say, Roy. Trigger, come on, boy. This way, Trigger. Trigger hears Roy's voice. This way, fella, come on. The gang is between Trigger and Roy. Trigger hesitates a split second, then charges forward into the gang. Surrendering, Roy. Hold it, Trigger. Wait here, fella. Wait there, boy. Throw down your guns and walk this way. And keep your hands in the air. Just keep those hands in the air. And don't let him down for any reason. Yeah, wait a minute. What is this? Where's the sheriff? And where's that posse? I imagine the sheriff will be along pretty soon, Wallace. More than likely, he'll have heard the shooting and is on his way. We'll turn you over to him as soon as he gets here. Maybe the sheriff will let me convince Wallace to tell where his sis is. I feel well enough. Don't worry about it now, prodigal. I think the sheriff will have him ready to talk by the time we get to town. Well, personal, I doubt it. He's better at interrupting people than letting him talk. I'd hate to think anything bad happened to sis. There was always something about her young and warm and sort of tender. Yet there was a look of sadness in her eyes that never left. We were all for close, sis and me. Well, we have company. Hey, who's here? Stay where you are. There's no cause to be alarmed. We're shepherds. We live here. You're Roy Rogers, aren't you? That's right. A friend of ours was hurt. And we brought him here so he could keep warm. Oh, I'm sorry we weren't home. We had word that a new baby had been born over three pines. A new baby? Yes. And you know how much seeing a baby means to lonely men like ourselves. We're on our way to see one now. That is, our friend is. And if he'll let us, we'd like to go along. I hope the baby you see is as wonderful as the one we visited. The folks were poor until it came. But now they're rich in all-saved money and the mother, young and warm and with a quality of tenderness about her. Yet she had an expression of sadness in her eyes. What? Ask him where the baby is. We've got to go there right away. Say, folks, got a little song you might enjoy hearing. It isn't a Christmas carol, but it contains a mighty good suggestion. Listen. You will have a circus eating crinkles, boop boop. Sugar coated cereal crinkles, boop boop. Tandic is price, it's twice as nice. Yeah. Tandic is price, it's twice as nice. So you will have a circus eating crinkles, boop boop. You know, once you try new crinkles, you'll be singing its praises too. Because you never had nutrition, so good. Toasted rice in sugar and honey. And with crinkles in your breakfast dish, you can forget about that old sugar bowl because crinkles are already sweet. They're the new rice cereal that's sugar coated. Yes. Tandic is price, it's twice as nice. Yeah. Tandic is price, it's twice as nice. So you will have a circus eating crinkles, boop boop. So friends, for swell or tasting breakfasts and snacks, you'll need several boxes of crinkles post new rice cereal that's sugar coated. Look for the red, white, and blue box with the crinkles clown right on the front. He's staying so long, Roy. I almost wish we'd gone into the house with him. Chronicle's all right. Remember, he hasn't seen his sister in a long time. Maybe now would be a good time to tell you about howling Harry. Do you know any way we can get out of listening to this, Roy? Oh, I'm afraid not. We're trapped this time. Good, good, good. Well, sir, howling Harry insisted on singing in the church choir. And he was so loud, he made all of the ladies faint. And then they finally hit on a plan where every Sunday morning, somebody would go over and thump Harry on the head and knock him out. Yeah. And then the preacher's wife would hang her washing on the line real quick like. And when Harry come to, they'd tell him that Sunday was over and it was Monday. They'd point to the wash on the line. All right. Oh, yes, Chronicle. Defeat, defeat. It is, Mrs. In here. She's got a baby. He was born just tonight. This is where the shepherds were visiting. And everything's all right? Everything's fine. She told me that when I left the territory, because I couldn't stand seeing her marry Wallace, she kind of took hold of herself and looked around a little. She decided Wallace wasn't our kind. Later, she met this new fella and fell in love with him. He's a real good husband to her. We're happy for you, Chronicle. Thank you, ma'am. The only thing I'm sorry about is that I've been away so long, two whole years, almost wasted. Well, maybe not, Chronicle. Your going away kept your sister from marrying an outlaw. Now she has a good husband. And tonight, her baby was born. Perhaps this baby is to do some great work in the world. It's just a thought, but if it does, you can always know you had a part in something which came to pass, almost like a miracle. Now listen, my children, and you shall hear a story fantastic, a story so queer. It's all about Santa and his helper's three. There's Hard Rock and Cuckoo and Jewel. Hard Rock's the driver up there in his sleigh. Cuckoo reads maps and he shows him the way. Oh, Santa really has no need for Joe, but takes him because he loves him so. Oh, yo, lady, yo, lady, I am. Donner and Blitzen, away, away. Oh, yo, lady, yo, lady, I am. I'm Hard Rock. I'm Cuckoo. I'm Jewel. Santa is busy with his heavy pack. He trusts his drivers and never looks back. Oh, yo, lady, yo, lady, I am. I'm Hard Rock. I'm Cuckoo. I'm Jewel. Now go to bed early on this Christmas Eve. I have no way of knowing just what you'll receive, but you'll hear the laughter that much I do. No, it will be Hard Rock and Cuckoo and Jewel. Three little men, only two feet high, singing to Santa way up in the sky, laughing and shouting as a sleigh bells ring. It's Hard Rock and Cuckoo and Jewel. Oh, yo, lady, yo, lady, I am. Donner and Blitzen, away, away. Oh, yo, lady, yo, lady, I am. I'm Hard Rock. Cuckoo. I'm Jewel. Santa is busy with his heavy pack. He trusts his drivers and never looks back. Oh, yo, lady, yo, lady, I am. I'm Hard Rock. I'm Cuckoo. I'm Jewel. Jingle bells, jingle bells, one large open sleigh. Dash or dance or prance or vixen, Comet Cupid. Donner, Blitzen over the moon, so bright. 32 feet and eight little tails of white. Hurry, hurry, hurry through the night. Oh, St. Nicky, work so quickly, leaving toys for girls and boys, then over the roof, so high. 32 feet and eight little tails, they fly. Faster, faster, faster through the sky. Vixen, Comet Cupid, Donner, Blitzen over the garden wall. 32 feet and eight little tails, they see them canter. He rolls that a call. Look for Roy Rogers on NBC television Saturday, December 29th or Sunday, December 30th in other cities. See your local newspaper for time and station. That's all for now, folks. This is Roy Rogers saying to all of you from all of us, goodbye, good luck, and may the good Lord take a liking to you. See you next week. Happy trails to you, until we meet again. Happy trails. Roy Rogers show is brought to you by Post-Series, each week at this same time, with the Whippur Wills, Forrest Lewis, Dale Evans, and the King of the Cowboys himself, Roy Rogers, an art rush production transcribed, directed by Tom Hargis, scripted by Ray Wilson, music by Milton Charles. Featured in today's cast were Frank Hemingway, Herb Butterfield, Sam Edwards, Bob Griffin, and Stan Waxman. This is Art Ballantier speaking for POST, Post-Series. Happy trails, until happy trails, keep smiling. Who cares about the clouds if we're together? Just sing a song and bring the sunny weather. Happy trails.