 Frontier Town, the saga of the Roaring West. Frontier Town, El Paso, Cheyenne, Calgary, Tombstone. Frontier Town, 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! Hello there friends. I come from a Frontier Town and I'm a Frontier lawyer by the name of Chad Remington. Now I guess everyone knows that the Frontier is a section of the country that's set apart. Not alone by geographical differences, but by the differences in temperaments and the character of the people who come to the Frontier. Some to live on it, some to infest it. Yes, no matter which way you square it, it adds up to one thing. Trouble. And most of the time that's spelled gun trouble. Now what law office I have is located over Cherokee O'Bannon's livery stable. And Cherokee I might add is one of the many characters who infest the Frontier. Except that Cherokee is reformed. Having given up his alleged profession of medicine man. Well, as like attracts like. So Cherokee had attracted a lot of strange and offbeat characters to him in years gone by. One of whom was an old prospect and known as Packrat Scott. After many years of grubstaking and moving around. Packrat Scott finally hit it rich and the town of Scott's diggings rose virtually overnight. A lusty, boisterous, typically bonanza Frontier Town. Having grubstaked Packrat once upon a time. Cherokee talked me into writing from Dos Reyes up into the hills where Scott's diggings was located. It was a tough ride, but a pleasant one. Or so it seemed as we neared the little boom town. You know something Chad? That Packrat Scott has one shred of honor or decency. Not alone will he return the grubstake I gave him 12 years ago. But you give me an interest in that mind of his. Oh sure Cherokee. After all you and Packrat were good friends. Oh the best of friends. Well I was practically a mother or a father to Packrat Scott. It would be a pretty poor commentary on the frailties of human nature. If he didn't make me part owner of his mind. It would indeed. Of course now that he's rich he probably won't even look at his old friend. That's happened before Cherokee. Ah the very idea. Turning me down, refusing me after all I did for him. Ah the frailties of human nature. You know what I'm going to do when I meet Packrat? I'm going to walk right up to him, look him square in the eye and tell him I wouldn't take five cents worth of his filthy gold mine. Well if we're lost out here in this desert and didn't know where Scott's digging is we wouldn't have much trouble finding it. Look at them racing up and down the main street shooting off their guns. This is a wide open town Chad. Then let's hope it doesn't open up wide enough to swallow us both and keep us here for good. Well after the excitement died down we found it was just a bunch of the boys celebrating a new strike. And when they'd been swallowed up into one of the seven saloons in town Cherokee and I had no trouble in locating the founder of Scott's diggings Packrat, Scott himself. Well blow me down and call me Tunnelry Jerky if I ain't the happiest man in the world. You've got reason to be Packrat. Folks say your strike assays close to ten thousand to the ton. Close to twenty thousand boys. But that ain't what makes me so dag-nabbered high flute and overjoyed it's the fact that this year town has got my name on it. Yesary Bob. The name of Packrat Scott. And Scott's diggings is a going down in the pages of history. I always knew you'd strike at Packrat. I don't mind saying I might be glad for you. Well there's only one thing I ain't completely happy about. And what's that? Well there's some in it that busted boom towns here about lately that Scott's diggings ain't real well known. And before I die, which ain't gonna be too long I wish there's some way of making Scott's diggings as well known as well Virginia city. Well if that's all that's bothering you Packrat publicizing your name for the sake of austerity then what you ought to do is to create a local chamber of commerce and engage a publicity man. That's about the best idea I ever heard of. A chamber of commerce and a publicity man. Yes sir. I believe that'll do it. Just you leave it to Chad. He's about a smarter belly blue blazes Chad. I know a publicity man. Is there any type of character you don't know Cherokee? Oh who is Cherokee? What's his name? I knew him several years ago when he was advanced man for a medicine show I was traveling with. Left the show in Denver and went to San Francisco to work on his own. I know I know but can you get hold of him and what's his name? Well if you've got a telegraph line in this mining camp for yours I'll bet you I can get him down here on the next stage coach. Oh man it's no object. What'd you say his name was again? Well I didn't. It's Jerry Berry. Jerry Berry. Is he related to Harry Kerry? Now Chad I'll thank you not to be facetious. Jerome K. Berry is perhaps the best publicity man in the entire business. And with a little luck and the proper salary I'll have him here the day after tomorrow. Well it took more than a little luck to keep Cherokee out of the various parlors of entertainment in Scott's diggings while we were waiting for Jerry Berry to arrive. Hardly had I dragged Cherokee out of the last chance then he'd show up in the Bella Union. Once safely out of there he'd sneak away and end up in the Golden Gaboon. Yes I've said it before but I'll say it again. Scott's diggings was a wide open town and Cherokee O'Bannon had an appetite for strong waters to match. But two days and three hangovers later Cherokee's friend Jerry Berry arrived in town and we had a hasty meeting in Packrat's hotel suite in the local hostelry. Boys you don't know how lucky you are that you sent for Jerry Berry. Yes sir. Not alone am I going to put this little town on the map but I'm going to make it a household word from Antioch to Amsterdam. From Paris to Punjab. Yes sir Scott's diggings is going to be more familiar at the average American breakfast table and oatmeal. While this town will have so much publicity you're going to need clubs to keep people out of it. And back alley lots will be selling for $5,000 a front foot. That talks real nice Jerry. Byers-Cinders if you can do that son you're on my payroll for $1,000 a month. $1,000 a month? Why by the time I get through you'll be willing to pay me $1,000 a day. Diane don't forget Jerry my boy that Cherokee O'Bannon recommended you for this position of trust. Jerry Berry never forgets anyone. Now then the first thing I think we ought to do is to organize a live wire chamber of commerce. Why that was Chad's suggestion. That's what I say. We've all got to work together to make this thing quick. Now do you think you can get a meeting together Mr. Scott so that we can get this meeting of commerce organized? If they don't come I'll personally shoot their ears off. But if we get this chamber of commerce what are you aiming to do? Get busy that's what. Get the name of Scott's Diggins on the city desk of every newspaper in the world. Well there shouldn't be anything to that. You know what they say it's a small world after all. You bet your boots. Now here's what we'll do. Do you know who's the best known minor who ever prospected out west? Never mind I'll tell you. Samuel Clemens. Mark Twain. So what do we do? I'll tell you that too. We invite Mark Twain to come out here to visit us. And when he sees the wheels of industry. Industry? What industry? Now I'm glad you asked that question friend. When he sees this hustling bustling riot as little town that we have here while he'll write dispatches about it stories about it novels about Scott's Diggins. By and tough it that there's a crack-a-jack idea. Yep a great idea except for one thing. If any of you have been reading the papers lately you'll know that Mr. Clemens is almost fatally ill. Well we'll get him out here anyhow. Why this dry desert air, this God-given climate the cool breezes sweeping down from the... Jerry? Jerry your idea is a good one. But in the case of Mark Twain it isn't going to work. Alright and who's Mark Twain to stop Jerry Berry? Well he's just small potatoes anyway. Yes sir when I get an idea I get a big idea and this time I've got a world buster. You know who will get down here to visit our town instead of Mark Twain? Never mind. I'll tell you. Evelyn Billingsgate. Evelyn Billingsgate? You mean the English woman who just wrote that sensational novel? Absolutely. The greatest, the hottest novel since the songs of Solomon. Ah... Ecstasy's Fortnight. What a book. Why the whole world is talking about it. Jerry you're becoming a big disappointment. How are you going to get an English author all the way over here from England? Well now it just so happens that she's in San Francisco. She says that Ecstasy's Fortnight was an expose of the slums and the nightlife of Paris and that her next book is going to be against the flaming canvas of the wild and woolly west. And where will she find a wilder and woolly west than right here in Scott's Digging? I don't know. You don't have to know Mr. Scott. You just get the businessmen and the miners around this town into a place where I can talk to them and the Scott's Digging's Chamber of Commerce will be born in full panoply. Now let's go. All right gentlemen. And you too, lady. She means much to us, Jerry. That's high grade Hattie, the slickest poker player that ever run a table in the mining camp. Yeah, you're blamed right. And I've rubbed more times than you've cleaned your teeth, you little squirt. All right, all right, look folks. Suppose we leave personalities out of this and get right down to business, huh? What do you mean business? You get us all here away from our business and try to sell us some sort of gold brick. What do you take us for? A bunch of underage idiots? Moon, you've got no right to talk that way. Because if we can, we'll form a Chamber of Commerce and get Evelyn's Billings Gate down here to ride us up. Why, that Sloan and gambling genre yours will do ten times the business you're doing now. And I'll be willing to help make good, that promise. I think you're all a lot of crackpots. What difference does it make if Scots-Diggins is known in New York? They know all about Virginia City, Carson, Goldfield, and where are they now? Ghost towns. I say let's make what we can make out of this dump and move on. That bless you, Moonshore Walter. I ain't gonna have nobody calling Scots-Diggins a dump. Now you take that back. Ah, go dry up, will you? You talk as if you'd made this town. All you did was to suddenly get lucky and run into a vein that wasn't just sand. You're a parasite. You take that back. Why, you shard of little... Mister, I don't know who you are. I've never seen you before and I don't care if I ever see you again. But if you think you can get away with slapping a man half your size and twice your age, you just don't think. Well now, you ain't half my age and hardly a life. Yes, and what a picture we're all going to make stretched out in some undertaking, Parler, unless we break this up. The organization meeting of the Scots-Diggins Chamber of Commerce stands adjourned. We'll return to the second act of Boomtown, our exciting Frontier Town adventure in just a few moments. Frontier Town. Quite a shambles, wasn't it? And even if I'd thought that Packrat, Scott, and Jerry Berry were weird and strange characters, the best was yet to come. Yes, Packrat and Jerry were just kind of ordinary folks compared to the renowned authoress Evelyn Billingsgate. And I must say that even though the idea of having her at Scott-Diggins originated with Jerry, once she received the flooredly worded telegram inviting her, well, there was just no keeping her away. In fact, she arrived so quickly that the Chamber of Commerce was left with scarcely enough time to organize. Despite Moon's show, there is hot-headed objection. Come on now, folks, come on, come on, button up your lips and be quiet, quiet down, let Mr. Berry here finish, won't you? Thank you, thank you, Packrat, Scott. Now, friends, all I want to say is this. Miss Billingsgate is scheduled to arrive on the 2 o'clock coach and we've got a heck of a lot of organizing left to do. Oh, well, then stop flapping your jaws. Let's get down to bas-tax. Brass-tax, woman, in Scott's Diggins, there's nothing but solid gold tax. Now, all right, now, to go over it again quickly. Now, we're not taking any chances that Scott's Diggins will look too tame for Miss Billingsgate, so we're going to put on a little show for her that'll make Custer's last stand look like a Sunday school picnic. Now, we've already got a group to give her a thrill when the coach arrives, but who is going to take charge and organize the bunch who are going to hold her up at her hotel? Well, since nobody else is volunteering, I will. You, Moon, why I thought you did it to yourself? Well, since nothing I can do can stop it, I reckon the sooner we get it over with, the better. And you aren't just talking through your hat, Mr. We've got a... Hey, well, it's almost 1 o'clock now. Now, we've got to get busy. Sir, I haven't got time to go over all the details of the hold-up with you, but you look like a man of imagination, so I'm going to leave it all up to you. And, brother, you're not making the mistake. Good. All right, let's break this up. You fellas and the stagecoach, hold up, you come with me. Evelyn Billingsgate's coach is arriving in town in less than one hour. It sounds funny now when you look back on it, but as you'll see, comedy ends and melodrama starts with a line too fine to discern. At 2 o'clock promptly, the concord coach bearing Evelyn Billingsgate drove onto the main street and slowed down for the stage depot. Just before the horses stopped, there was a blood-curdling Comanche yell. Then dressed as Indian, swarmed around the coach for a moment, then guns blazed. And then, just as Evelyn Billingsgate was convinced she was about to be scalped and burned at the stake, a band of clean-hearted Westerners came racing down the street to the rescue. Save from the Redman. Save from a fate worse than even death itself. Pac-Rat, Jerry, Cherokee and I gallantly repaired with Miss Billingsgate to her Rococo hotel room for a respite. Here, Miss Billingsgate, I think you'd better have another glass of champagne. Oh, you dear boy! You dear, dear boy! Yes, man, that's me. I don't know what I would have done without you, Mr. Berry. And that champagne, you're so miraculously... Mr. O'Bannon. I don't mind your drinking my champagne, but I simply will not tolerate your drinking it out of the bottle. Well, that is to say, my lovely lady, my pretty little powder pigeon. Well, I was afraid that with growing the cork that a bit of the glass might have chipped from around the neck of the bottle and I was merely getting rid of it for you. And the champagne along with it. All right, put it on, Cherokee. And, Jerry, you'd better get Miss Billingsgate a fresh bottle. You bet your boots. And we've got 60 fresh bottles already on ice. The folks around Scott's Diggings think a lot that you're coming to visit them, Miss Billingsgate. And as soon as you feel up to it, there's a delegation waiting to call on you downstairs in the dining room. They're, uh... they're giving you a dinner to commemorate this memorable day. Oh, excruciatingly exciting. And I presume the menu would be made up of, uh... Oh, now whatever do you call it? Oh, yes. Biscuits of a cedulated dough. Cedulate biscuits of a ced... Oh, you must mean sourdough. Well, I'm afraid that Miss Billingsgate's in for a surprise. Because with millions of dollars being taken out of the Diggings around here, tough and crude though these men may be, they demand and can afford the best. Oh, truly? Oh, how significant. What a fascinating background for the book. I just know I should be compelled to write about Scott's Diggings. Oh, Indians and cowboys. A frontier lawyer in broadcloth like you, Mr. Remington. Oh, I can see it all now. You shall be the hero of my novel. And high-grade Hattie the Heroine, I suppose. High-grade Hattie? You know, I'm afraid we're trying to give you too much all at once, Miss Billingsgate. So, as they say in the best of circles, while you repair your toilet, we men folks will give you some privacy. But we'll meet you in the dining room in 30 minutes for the big celebration. How about some more champagne? Hey, you big not-head, lay off. We've only got a few more bottles. This is a sticker. We want that jewelry and them diamonds you're wearing. Hey, that moon show, Walter, looks like the real thing, doesn't it? Come on now, lady. You want to turn that stuff over to us? Or do you want us to yank it off your neck? Who plays the sound? I don't know what that was, Cherokee. But that was no fake. That was the real thing. Come on. They sound to me like someone's a-blowing high-grade Hattie safe next door. Well, let's not stand here. Let's get out and get after them. Whatever humor there had been in the situation vanished fast, as we all piled out into the street and saw the wall of what had been high-grade Hattie's poker and entertainment parlors shattered in a cloud of smoke. Not 200 yards away, just vanishing around a turn in the street were three men riding heels over leather for the hills. And in less time than it takes to tell, the Chamber of Commerce was on their own horses and streaking after the bandits wide open. But the chase was futile and we reigned up at moon show, Walter's command. Hold it, boys! Hold it! No use running these horses to death. What in thunder's wrong with you anyhow, show, Walter? I can still see the dust those thieves' horses made, so they must be somewhere around here. Hold it, Cherokee. Don't forget we're just visitors in Scott's diggings. And if Mr. Show, Walter says there's no chance of catching the crooks, well, that's that. Well, I don't think we can catch them just by riding around. No, show, Walter, and I don't think we can catch them either, riding around out here. All right, come on, Cherokee. You and I had better go back to town and put on our thinking caps. Bramington, I want to tell you that as a publicity man I have had some pretty wild ideas in my life, but this idea of yours, of setting fire to show Walter's saloon is the wildest one I have ever heard. If it takes fire to fight fire, then it takes one wild idea to fight another wild idea. What do you mean, Chad boy? I mean that I believe Moon show Walter took advantage of the fake holdup to engineer one of his own. Why show Walter? Because he was the only man who knew exactly when he was going to come into the dining room and fake trying to steal Miss Billingsgate's jewelry. Blue blazes, Chad, I do believe you're right. Well, then, if you want to get high-grade Hattie's money back for her, before they're safely out of the county, you better gather up some grease wood and matches and let's go. Are you serious, Remington? You really think high-grade Hattie framed that robbery on herself? Well, show Walter, I wouldn't go that far, but I do think it was an inside job. Fire! Fire! Fire! Your place is on fire! My place is on fire? Where? Back there! In the corner! It's your office, your private office. My office? Suffer and joke! Come on, give me a hand. Cherokee, come on, bust that door down. It's too late now! What do you want us to get out first for you, show Walter, the safe? No, no, no, my desk. It's got some... I mean, all my private papers are in it. Chad, you are right. All right, come on, boys. Grab hold of this desk. All right, Cherokee, up-end it. Over she goes! Oh, jasper's a loco or something. Look at that! Everything in my desk spilled on the floor and the place is burning down! We're looking, show Walter, and all I can see is the money you stole from a high-grade Hattie. All right, pick it up, Cherokee. Keep your dirty hands off that. Oh, no you don't. And you're going to end up on the floor right along with the money. Over and sufferin' I. Show Walter won't come to for an hour. He sure won't. Say, don't you think we'd better put out the fire? But there's no water. Who needs water? We still got 20 cases of champagne. Champagne? Then never mind this joint. Let's take care of me. Let's douse the champagne on show Walter, huh? After all, with the way Chad beat him up, he's the one who looks as if he'd been kicked by Mrs. O'Leary's mule. Frontier Town, starring Reed Hadley and featuring Wade Crosby as a Brucell's production. Supervision, a direction by Paul Franklin. Music written and played by Ivan Dippmars. Be sure to be with us again same time next week for another fine action adventure story with your favorite young western star, Reed Hadley. And now this is Bill Foreman telling you that Frontier Town comes to you from Hollywood.