 The Cavalcade of America, presented by Duponts, makers of better things for better living through chemistry. The way of the Plainsmen, the restless men of the cattle trails and boom towns of the young West, and to those who still hold America's frontiers, this performance of the Cavalcade of America is dedicated. Tonight, the Cavalcade of America presents an original musical melodrama, Wild Bill Hickok, The Last of Two Gun Justice, written by Peter Lyon and featuring an original ballad especially composed and sung by Woody Guthrie, famous for his Dust Bowl ballads. Starring in the role of Wild Bill Hickok is Kenneth Delmar from the Cavalcade Players. The part of Sarah is played by Jeanette Nolan, the mayor by William Pringle, Tom Custer by John McIntyre, Hudson by Howard Smith, McCannless by Edwin Jerome, and Calamity Jane by Agnes Moorhead. Or orchestra and original musical score are under the direction of Don Voorhees. DuPont, makers of better things for better living through chemistry, present Wild Bill Hickok on the Cavalcade of America. When your rambling was rough and your law was your gun, When your life was a gamble, make it ace, ducer, tray, And the men of the past made the men of today. About the best chance you had was your old forty-four cause your gun was your order and you draw what some men was cowards and some men was brave but all of the boys sleep now in their graves. From a quiet country town down in south Illinois come the roughest and toughest of all of the boys. Now his last name was Hickok, first name was Jim and he liked to ride and to swim. When he was a boy and all his life long well he liked what was right and he hated what's wrong. He was still just fifteen when he helped get away a horny gross slave on an underground railway. That was a bullet, must you? Sounded like it. Come on! They're shooting at us. Okay, get your head down. Get your head down. Come on, guys. Our show is a blast. What's he doing for me, must you? Keep quiet and get a look behind us. Yes, sir. Come on. We's gaining on them, Master Jim. Don't call me Master Jim. Ain't nobody a master. That's right, Jim. You still gaining? Looks like it. I can't see the Marshal's gig back there for the dust. Go! Hold it in! Where are we going, Jim? Duck off the road through this field and to them little roads up there. Come on. Can't see the Marshal yet. We're all right. You never know where we went. You're Jim. He was a heap smarter than most grown-up men's, I know. How old is you anyway? Holding up. Shucks, I'll be sixteen another eight months. Hold it in. Whoa. Here you are, Sam. Yes, sir. I'll show his mightful, might be grateful to you, Jim. You know, that's a funny thing. I reckon that's the first time I was on the receiving end of some bullets. Just so. Sure didn't seem to phase you none. No. I was just thinking. No used to be afraid when you hear them go by. It's a whistling to the left and a whistling to the right. No used to be afraid when you can hear them go by. They was hard-hitting, straight shooting, hard-finding men, and Jim met them all at the age of fifteen. It was old Charlie Hudson was a mule-skinned man. Charlie was a bully and the kid called his hand. What are you thinking about, Jim? Hmm? Oh, I was thinking maybe we should have took the back road. But I promised your ma I'd have you home by supper time. Oh, Jim, look out. Someone's gonna cross the bridge from the other side. Yeah. Yeah, that's what I was thinking about there. Hey, pick up! Jim, it's that big Charlie Hudson. Yeah, I see him. Hi there, Charlie. Look out, William. Only one of us can go over that bridge at once. Well, that looks like it'll be us. Hey, give me that. Come on, now. I'll kick him right off the bridge. Jim, don't let him make no trouble. Don't worry. I can see you need to learn some respect for your elders and bettors. Pick up. Charlie, I reckon you'd better take your hands off my heart. What do you do, do you, son? Well, all right. I'll just use my foot dance. All right, Hudson, you ask for it. Why, you? He ain't come up. There ain't even any bubbles come up. Oh, Jim, maybe you killed him. I couldn't have. Just a clip on his jaw, I couldn't have. Best, you run into town. You can fetch help quick. What are you gonna do, Jim? I'm off. I'm scared maybe he hit his head on the rail. I'm getting out of here. I gotta run away. Oh, Jim, no. Maybe I killed him. I'm heading for Kansas alone. Come on in. The door's always unlocked. I wrote as fast as I could to let you know. Well, howdy, Sarah. I sat down. He looked to be as out of breath as a hummingbird. Jim, Dave McCannis is on his way over here now with two of his men, Jim Wood and Jim Gordon. On his way over here? What's he up to? He claims he has been paid all the money agreed on for the express station. Says he's gonna shoot it out with you. Shoot it out with me? Doesn't sound like Dave. Well, after all, he got me in my job here with the pony express. Jim, you know he's a rebel and you're from the North. Well, that's not a shooting affair yet, is it? And, uh, Sarah, besides, uh, why are you coming here to tell me all this? Aren't you still sweet on him? Well, sure I am. I just don't want him to get hurt. I just don't remember you worrying your head, especially about him getting hurt before this. Are you sure you haven't got anything else on your mind? You, Jim. Me? I couldn't stand it if you were to get shot, Jim. Why, Sarah, I... Oh, Jim, I... I thought you knew. Ever since that... Come in. Howdy, Dave. Seems like you're in a hurry. Come along. What you doing here, Sarah? Get out. Are you out to speak to a lady, Sir Short Dave? People get to think in your room. You got me called to buddy in Hickok. I'm not talking to you. Sure you are, Dave. Talking right to me. Keep on. All right then, I will. What about the rest of the money I was owed for this express station? I come to collect. Well, now the story I get is that you've been paid off, Dave. You talk to the United States government about it. I'm talking to you now. I'm not interested in that United States... Jim, my hands are looking... You... I saw him coming. You couldn't. You haven't got eyes in the back of your head. They was reflected in the window there. Thanks for warning me anyhow. Jim, you got to get out of here quick. They'll call it murder. The law will be down on you. Well, I reckon I'll just let the law take its course, Sarah. Oh, Jim. You can't. You know, I'd always thought Dave was quicker on the draw than that. Just show you never can be sure. He was new, and Kansas was tough, and a Mr. McCannless thought that he coughed with blood. He blowed down McCannless and brought him his in, killed two of his men, just a few feet from there. In Kansas, your gun and your draw was your rule, and your big party four was your college and school. They made Jim the Marshal of Independence Town, and he tried to bring law and order around. It serves a good drink, too. They shouldn't do this. Yes. Not a bad idea. Yeah. Now listen to me, you spell. I'm here sometime now, and I see a lot of faces I don't recognize. And I'll bet their faces Jess Wallace don't recognize either. How about it, Jess? A half of you don't even know this man you want to take and string up to a tree. I'll bet the other half don't even know why you're stringing them up. Lynch had never cured nothing. Now, if he killed Bill Wilton, let the law handle it. What do we got a law for? I'm sick of folks not paying any heed to the law. It's going to stop, or I'm going to do a little shooting myself to see it does stop. You tell him, Wild Bill! And my name ain't Wild Bill. It is not. And you're covered. Advance and give the counter sign. Yeah. I was sent out to scout behind the Yankee line. Give the counter sign. No, you don't understand. I've been on a trip. Two weeks. I wouldn't know. Give the old counter sign then. You get your hands high in the air. I know you now. I get a lot of money. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know you. Now I get a look at you. Wild Bill Hickock. Now follow that trail to camp. Got a little court marshal waiting there for you. Thunders and it lightens. The heavens open up. And what do I find? Wild Bill Hickock. Let's see. See you operated pretty well against us at P. Ridge, Bill. Yeah? Yeah. There's a paper here says you shot and killed four out of seven of our men who tried to ambush you. Well, that was five, Colonel. Now you're caught behind our lines again. Well, well. I guess we don't need to go through the formalities of a court marshal for a spy like you. Seems to be plenty of evidence to justify my verdict. Sentry? Yes, sir. Put Hickock in that log cabin back ahead quarters under a six man guard. Give mortars they're not to go inside no matter how hard it rains. He used to be shot at dawn. I guess I'm not coming in. Oh, come on now. Be reasonable. How about a char tobacco? Well. Listen, that ain't too much to ask. All right. Just a minute. Yeah. You want a char tobacco? I want that uniform! At Calibou's when the big war was over he went on. He slept with the coyotes and rode over the plains. Road through the Indians to Kansas again. They was outlaws and bad men and rustlers of pity. They made him marshal up at Old Hayes City. And the thumb-busting six shooters roared all around and quit till he cleaned up the town. They was outlaws and bad men and rustlers of pity. Tom Custer and his gang was a-running Hayes City. Well, Bill. If I don't mind saying I'm glad we convinced you to take over here. Yeah. Well, it sure looks like a pretty little town. Needs some churches here, but you can't have everything right at first. Churches help to bring order. Yeah. Yeah. But I'd say you did, Beltswell. You always carry that many guns? Well, I'll tell you about that. Just at first it's nice to know you got two in your belt and a third in your hand. People get to thinking maybe you can shoot that many. There comes your first trouble right now. Who might that untunable creature be? He's our biggest troublemaker, Bill. And he wears the army uniform. That's General Custer's brother, Tom Custer. He's no killer, just troublemaker. Hey there, partner. Slow down a spell. I'm just a man who aims to live in peace and quiet, partner. I can't do it so easy while you're shooting off them guns. Make my headache. You aim to live in peace and quiet, huh? You better get out of the road, stranger. Partner, it's you who's going to get out of the road. Get down off your horse before I pull you down. Stranger, it's easy to talk that away with all them guns. What's your name? I have my guns on the road. I still say get off your horse. You're disturbing the peace. Now, if you want to know my name, it's Hickok. They call me Wild Bill. Why, sure, tell you. What do you mind to do with me? Just let you cool off in the jailhouse of spell, Cruster. I don't care none about your uniform or your brother. I just care that you keep the peace. Now, it'll be easy, boys. He walks down the street every night about seven on his way to Coal Saloon. Fred, you lay over the general's store. Mike and Joe will be up the block of peace. All right. When he gets right even with the store, we can all start. You'll never know what hit him. Well, I don't like it. It's cold blood. No, it's not. I'll stand out in the middle and challenge him. Just remember when I say, I want to try and lock me up again, Hickok. You all step out and start shooting. Four against one. Don't seem right. You're protecting me, ain't you? There's nobody going to shoot him in the back. Come on, let's go. This evening? Why not, Tom? Why shouldn't I, Tom? Oh, it's just that a man like you needs all the luck he can get. That's all. What's on your mind, Custer? Are you aiming for more trouble? What if I was? Want to try and lock me up again, Hickok? I reckon I won't have to try, Tom Custer. Yes, the good boys was tough and the bad men was mean when they made him the law down at Old Abbey. He killed his deputy. He killed by mistake and he laid Old Phil Coe in his long lonesome grave. Deadwood Town was a gold mine in place while Bill had a feeling he'd about run his race. He sat down to poker with his hat over his face and he drawed him a hand full of aces and dates and he drawed him a hand of aces. We was an avalanche together. How have you been? Can't complain, Bill. Can't complain. That's fine. Don't let me interrupt your poker game. Go right on. I'll just stand here a little. You broke me, too. I'm in. I'll pack. Say, Bill, how about your superstition? Thought you never said where you're back to the door. Well, I started to move, Calamity. The boys here jawed me out of it. Oh? Well, you shouldn't play your luck that way, partner. I'll stand behind you for a spell. Well, now, Calamity, no offense, understand, but I get kind of nervous when there's somebody behind me. Yeah, sure, look out, Bill. I'll buy me a drink. Yeah, do that. And have one for me, Calamity. Sure. My bet? I'll raise with a couple of blues, Carl. You never could bluff with a pig's ear, Bill. I'm throwing in. I'll stay. Seeing you, Bill, what you got? There you are, Charlie. Aces? You was that little guy drunk, Jack McCall. He shot him right in the back of the head. Bill! That dirty yellow little cop. Look what he had. Aces and aces. Chips and his. Aces and aces. That's a dead man's hand. Dead man's hand while Bill had a feeling this would be his last stand. And he sat in the game with his back to the door and was shot in the back by little Jack McCall. Bloody Jane saw while Bill fall and she swore she'd kill that coward McCall. Little Jack made her run, but he run too slow cause she put him on the go with Bill's 44. Months in the saddle, I used to go gay. Town and I rode to the prairies, got shot down to gambling. I'm dying today. For a poor while Bill Hickoff can play the death march as you carry him along. Take him down to the graveyard and ride on his tombstone. He was shot by a coward you called Jack McCall. Words on while Bill Hickoff's rude tombstone are weathered and almost too dim to read. A brave man, the victim of an assassin, JB Hickoff called while Bill aged 39 years, murdered by Jack McCall, August 2nd, 1876. These words still hold in our memory a fabulous figure who belongs in the great company of immortals in the cavalcade of America. Cade of America thanks Kenneth Del Mar and the cavalcade players for their performance of while Bill Hickoff, the last of two gun justice. And to Woody Guthrie, our congratulations for his ballad, especially written for this program. A song to enrich the legends of a great American frontiersman. And now the DuPont Company brings you its story from the wonder world of chemistry. When the burial pyramids of the Egyptian kings were opened, the archaeologists found magnificent court robes with the colors still bright. Robes which were woven and dyed by people who knew how to bleach their textiles. Only cloth that is bleached takes dye in brilliant glowing colors. How did the Egyptians manage to bleach their goods? We have a clue to the answer in ammonia. Ammonia is used today as the alkalizing agent in bleaching. Where did we get the word? When you ask for a bottle of household ammonia, you are speaking ancient Egyptian. The substance we now know as ammonia was used in bleaching by the priests of Ammon along the Nile, who spread their cloth under the blazing Egyptian sun to make it snowy white. Not a surprising thing when you recall that they were priests of a sun god and had a sort of monopoly on the local sunshine. Thousands of years after Egypt became a land of the dead, Dutchmen in Holland and Irishmen and Aaron were still bleaching their linen and wool by soaking them in lye and buttermilk and spreading them on the grass in the sun, doing it with a sure knowledge of what would happen, but not knowing why. It wasn't exactly what we'd call a high-speed process. A weaver delivered his goods for bleaching in March and got them back, if he was lucky, toward the end of October. That was one reason clothes cost so much in the old days. Dupont chemists have a clearer idea of what the sun did to turn cloth white. There was oxygen in the dew on the grass and oxygen in the air. The sun split the molecules of oxygen into atoms that were active chemically, and the atoms did the job. Most silk, wool and cotton goods that are to be finished in pastel shades are first bleached in order to ensure clear bright colors. Rayon silk wool mixtures that furnish us with some of our handsomest fabrics, fabrics that an ancient Egyptian couldn't have imagined, would be impossible without a modern bleaching process. Since bleaching is so important, it was up to the chemist to find a method that wouldn't require all the buttermilk in Holland or all the green old sod in Ireland. What could the chemists make that would yield the same sort of oxygen released by nature on green metal grass? The answer was found by Dupont chemists in a hydrogen peroxide, not very different from the hydrogen peroxide you have in your home. You know how it bubbles. Those fuzzy bubbles are oxygen, the same active molecules of oxygen that are found in dew. Sheets are whiter today. Men's shirts are whiter and wear longer. Wool blankets stay white without turning yellow because Dupont chemists found a way to bring you, in the words of the Dupont pledge, better things for better living through chemistry. And now the star of next week's program, John McIntyre. Ladies and gentlemen, next week Cavalcade presents a new radio play by Eric Barno. Dr. Franklin goes to court. A story of the genial philosopher at a crucial period in our history. Last year I had the pleasure of playing Benjamin Franklin as a character in a Cavalcade drama about Thomas Jefferson. And so I am especially interested in impersonating Dr. Franklin again with a new dramatic emphasis. It's the story of Dr. Franklin's return to public life when he secured vital aid for the American colonies struggling to establish their independence. On the Cavalcade of America, your announcer is Clayton Collier, sending best wishes from Dupont. This is the National Broadcasting Company.