 In a moment you'll hear James Stewart as the sick shooter. Just one of many fine programs brought to you each week on NBC. Tomorrow night there's top comedy entertainment with the Bob Hope show, the Phil Harris Alice Faye show, and can you top this with Senator Ford? Bob Hope delivers rapid-fire comedy routines, while Phil Harris and Alice Faye bring both mirth and music. A great Friday night lineup of comedy programs, all of them heard only on NBC. James Stewart as the sick shooter. The man in the saddle is angular and long-legged. His skin is sun-died brown. The gun in his holster is grey steel and rainbow mother of pearl. Its handle unmarked. People call them both the sick shooter. The NBC radio network presents James Stewart as the sick shooter. A transcribed series of radio dramas based on the life of Britt Ponsett. The Texas Plainsmen who wandered through the western territories, leaving behind a trail of still-remembered legends. Keep your shirt on, keep your shirt on. Bank don't open till 9 a.m. You've got five minutes to wait. It's me, Matt Hawkins. I got some news for you, Ollie. News? Oh, what's happened, mate? They got him. Sheriff Hempill's bringing him into town now. The posse had come by my ranch about half an hour ago. I took right off so I could spread the word. Just can't believe it. That's right. They got him. Squad Hempill? Captured a Wyoming kid? Oh, not that squad ain't been a good sheriff, but nobody's ever been able to lay a hand on Wyatt King before. The sheriff didn't exactly capture him, Ollie. The sheriff's bringing him in. That's true enough, but the way I understand it, the posse just sort of stumbled onto the kid. What? That's what they say. He was laying in a grove by Sycamore over by Tenderfoot Crick. Dead, huh? No, no, no. But he'd been shot up some, a bullet in his belly. Must have been hit at close range. He was still out cold when they went past my place. Well, they split to say who shot him and left him laying there? They just don't seem to know, Ollie. Well, he was in mighty good health when he rode out of here yesterday, $2,500 from my bank vault here. And your money was still on him. No need for you to worry about it. Good morning, Mithril. I'm sorry I'm late. Matilda had one of her disease spells this morning and I had to wait until Doc McIntyre got there. Jonas! You hear about Wyatt King? Wyatt King? The feather who held me up yesterday. Oh, why? I thought they called him something else, some kind of kid. That's right. The Wyoming kid. Well, his real name is Wyatt King. Don't you ever read them reward notices down to the post office? But I just don't remember names very good, I guess. What about Mr. King? He's been captured. You don't say? Yes. Sure I found him down at Tenderfoot Creek. He was all shunned up. Why, why? And the darnedest thing is nobody knows who shot him. Oh, what's so peculiar about that? Well, in the first place, the fellow who'd done it, he'd stand to collect a mighty nice reward. All them holdups, kings full, well, there must be at least $5,000 off it for him, dead or alive. My, my, that sure is a lot of money. Well, I better get over to my desk and start working on the cove. Ollie, that ain't the only strange thing about this here business. What do you drive about? Well, I told you the kid had been shot at close range. That means somebody met up with him face to face. He wasn't dragged out, sir, nothing like that. Yeah, yeah, I see what you mean. It would take a mighty big man to stand up to Wild King and a mighty fast man to outdraw him. Yeah, he was supposed to be lightning gunfighter. There's about 10 graves that'll testify to that. Hmm, he sure ain't nobody around here. Well, at least I can't think of anybody. Can you, man? No, no, can't, not a single solitary soul. I've been racking my brain ever since I heard what had happened. Morning, John. Morning, John. Yes, sir. What can I do for you? Uh, you're the banker. That's right, Mr.... The name is Ponsett, Brett Ponsett. Well, I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Ponsett. I'm Oliver Rowan. Ah, Ollie. I got a little check here. Did you say Brett Ponsett? That's right. Well, I'll be gone. What's the matter, man? Well, he's a six-shooter, Ollie. A six-shooter? Ain't that right, Mr. Ponsett? Well, sometimes I guess folks call me... There, there. What did I tell you? Well, sir, I guess we don't have to do no more wondering about who shot up Wyatt King. Why? Well, sir, we're all mighty grateful, Mr. Ponsett. Oh, hold on. If we'd have known you was in these parts, we wouldn't have had no doubts in the first place, no, sir. I'm afraid I don't follow you. Well, you're the fellow who shot it out with the King last night, ain't you? Well, it must have been you. It couldn't have been nobody else. Why, of course it was him, Ollie. There ain't no doubt about it. I said it would take a fast man to out-draw the kid. Well, a six-shooter, just about the fastest man in the west of the Mississippi from the way I hear it. Well, that's mighty flattering, but as far as out-drawn Wyatt King, well, I wouldn't know about that since how we never met up. Never met up? Well, you mean you didn't recognize him last night? Last night. Well, whenever it was you shot him. Now, now, let's get this straight, Gents. I didn't shoot Wyatt King last night or any other time. I've never laid eyes on him. Well, if it wasn't you, then who did do it? I sure wouldn't know. I sure wouldn't know. I rode down the trail from Fort Drexel. I didn't see any sign of Wyatt King or anybody else. Tenderfoot Creeks? Just off that trail? Yes, that's all. Well, if Mr. Puntzett says he didn't do it, I guess he didn't. Yeah. Oh, wait a minute. Sure. Why didn't I think of it before? Everybody knows if the six-shooter don't like to take credit for what he does. He's the sort of man that hides his lamp under a bushel. Well, you ain't going to get away with it here in Copper Springs, Mr. Puntzett. You're absolutely right, man. Shooting an outlaw like Wyatt King ain't nothing to be ashamed of. Well, that's Mr. Puntzett. You ought to be proud of yourself. Well, maybe I would if I'd done it. Hey, hey, there's a party now. Just wait till I tell Sheriff Hill about that. Wait a minute, Mac. Listen to me. You mind the bank. Mr. Rowan, hey, why do you... Well, I'll be darned. Well, I never saw anything like it. For the next half hour, folks came up to me from all directions, all saying I'd shot Wyatt King, giving me their congratulations. I told them I hadn't had anything to do with it, but they just wouldn't be convinced. And I didn't see how I could straighten them out on it. It did make me feel kind of funny, though, all this hella-balloo over a misunderstanding. And then when the mayor said something about letting the kids out of school for a day in my honor, well, I just had to find some way of putting a stop to it, so I headed over to the jail and introduced myself to Sheriff Hampton. It's a privilege to meet you, Mr. Puntzett, a real privilege. Yeah, it's a privilege, yes. Oh, not that I wouldn't have caught up with King myself sooner or later, but you kind of speeded up the operation. Yes, yes. Now, that's what I want to talk to you about, Sheriff. Oh, now don't you worry about the reward. I'll see that you get it. No, no, I'm not interested in any reward. Well, yeah, everybody says you're the generous type. I heard that. Well, I'm not that generous, Sheriff. Now, I reckon I'd take the reward if I was entitled to it. Oh, now, Mr. Puntzett. Sheriff, you've got to listen to me now. I didn't shoot Wyatt King. Well, I heard you've been trying to ease out and taking the credit. I'm not trying to do anything except tell you the truth. Now, you ask King when he comes to. You'll find out. Oh, he came too a little while ago, Mr. Puntzett. Right after Doc McIntyre got through patching him up. He's practically as good as new now. Well, go on, go on. Ask him if I had anything to do with shooting. Well, why should I ask him again? Again? Well, sure. As soon as he was able to talk, I questioned him. Well? He says you made a lucky draw, Mr. Puntzett. Of course, that's just an alibi. No, no. Now, wait a minute here. Now, you... Do you mean to say that Wyatt King claims I shot him? Well, you're a six-year-old, aren't you? Well, that's who he says done it. I just couldn't believe my ears. I never laid eyes on this Wyoming kid my whole life. Though I'd heard plenty about him, of course. All his escapades, yet quite a reputation. Well, Sheriff Hamphill wasn't even easier to convince than the rest of the folks had been, so finally I asked him to feed mine, letting me talk to King. The fellow had shot him, must have resembled me in some way. At least that's what I figured. I was certain that once we met head on, the King would see that he'd been wrong. Well, Wyatt? Huh? Is this the man who shot you? Why do you have to keep going over that, Sheriff? I told you who'd done it. Yeah, but Mr. Ponsett here kind of disagrees with you. I sure do. Oh. Now, let's just get this thing straightened out once and for all, and then we won't have any... What's the matter with you, Britt? You was ready enough to pull the trigger last night? Why are you trying to lie out of it now? To pull... Why, you... You know we've never run into each other before, last night or any other time. I've got a bandage on my belly that says different. Now take a good look at me, Wyatt. Now maybe in the dark you sort of thought that the fellow, well, maybe there was a likeness. You've got a twin brother. Of course I've got no twin brother. If you ain't got a twin brother, that was you that shot me. It wasn't very dark either. Don't you remember the way we were standing there in the moonlight and the way you went for your gun? The same gun you were in right now. I sure ain't likely to forget it. I, well... Now, look here, Sheriff. Now you listen to me. I don't know what's the matter with this game. You must have gone local or something, but I give you my word. Mr. Ponsett, we all know how you feel about accepting honors and having folks look up to you. But this is one time you just ain't going to be able to get away with it. As a matter of fact, I believe there's some kind of a doing that's planned over at the town hall later on this afternoon. After the parade, that is. The parade? You just hold on here. Now, before everybody starts tearing around in circles, I'd like to talk to Wyatt alone, if you don't mind. What for? Well, I... just give me a couple of minutes with him, Sheriff. All right. All right. But I sure don't see what you hope to gain by it. I'll have to lock in with you. Can't take no chances on a man like King. Give a holler when you want out. All right, King. I want the truth. You're the one whose loco, Ponsett, you are. That's a pretty big reward for me. There's a reward for the fellow who captured you. Well, as long as I keep seeing you or the fellow you can collect, I'm doing your favor. Well, maybe I don't happen to want any favor from you. Well, don't look like you got much choice in the matter, does it? Of course, just between the two of us. Now, seeing you right close like that, it might have been somebody else who shot me. You know Doggone well it was. Well, even if it was, even if I was mistaken about it, I sure wouldn't admit it. I don't see why not. Oh, now, Mr. Ponsett, you don't think I want folks to know I was outdraught by a little fellow with gray hair and a putt belly? Oh, how's that? A man nobody's heard of, a grocery clerk or a sod buster. That's what he looked like to me. Well, he even had a ready-made suit on a coat and pants cut out of the same cloth. A stiff collar. And a neck tie. I never suppose a man like him would know how to use a gun otherwise I'd been more careful. Well, well, at least we finally got down with the truth, huh? Now, all you gotta do is tell the sheriff and we'll get... I'm not telling anybody else, Ponsett. And I got an idea. You're telling them won't make much difference. Why? Not as long as I keep saying it was you who shot me. Of course, that's what I'm gonna say. I ain't got no choice. Well, you haven't got any reason to lie about it. Well, now, look, it's one thing to be outshotted by Britt Ponsett. That ain't so hard to swallow, but the idea of being outdraught by a... Nobody. Well, I wouldn't be able to face my friends again after I break out of jail. They'd all have a laugh on me. Yes, it was a lucky break when the sheriff came in and said, you's in town. Asked if you was the one that shot me. You're not gonna get away with this, can you? Well, I'm sorry if it upset you, Ponsett, but after all I got my reputation. Your reputation? I never heard of such a thing. We'll return to James Stewart as the sick shooter in just a moment. Each year, forest fires take a tragic toll, destroying the natural resources that are vital to our nation's strength. Remember, one moment of carelessness can destroy national beauty and wealth that can never be replaced. Forest fires have been called America's most shameful waste because they can be prevented. Don't fail to do your part in preventing them. Don't be guilty of starting one. Now, act two of the sick shooter starring James Stewart as Britt Ponsett. Well, I knew that there wasn't any point in hanging around the jail trying to make sure of Hamphill believed what Wyatt King had told me. King was right. As long as he kept insisting that I shot him, I wasn't going to be able to convince anybody of the truth unless the man who really did shoot him. I was walking down the main street passing the bank when I remembered what King had said. A gray-haired fellow with a pot belly, wearing a ready-made suit and a stiff collar and tie. I'd seen somebody who looked like that. I couldn't think where. Where was it? And then I just happened to glance into the bank. Yes, sir, what can I do? Oh, you're Mr. Ponsett, ain't you? That's all right. You sure stirred up a lot of talk, Mr. Ponsett, the whole town. Yeah, yeah, I know. Mr. Rowan just stepped out for a couple of minutes, but is there anything I can do? You're the teller, aren't you? Yes, sir. Been with the bank for 26 years now. You don't say. The name's Jonas Pilgrim, Mr. Ponsett. I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Pilgrim. Of course, if you're in a hurry for something, maybe I could find Mr. Rowan. No, no, as a matter of fact, it was you I wanted to talk to. Me? Yes. Yes, you see, I've just come from a session with Wyatt King over at the jail. Oh. And he told me about the shooting last night. That's really interesting, Mr. Ponsett. Well, I've got some statements to get out now, so if you don't mind, I... And King told me about the man who did it. Oh, she... No, it's a funny thing, Mr. Pilgrim. The description he gave me sure fits you right down to that tie you're wearing. And to come to think of it, you're just about the only person in town who does fit. I don't know what you mean, sir. Well, you don't, huh? You don't. Well, it was nice talking to you. Mr. Ponsett. You won't mention this to anybody else. Well, I don't see what difference it makes as long as it wasn't you he was talking about. Well, it might be kind of embarrassing. I mean, well... Just what do you mean? All right. All right, I'll admit it to you, Mr. Ponsett. But you've got to promise me you won't tell anybody else. You've got to give me your word. You shot him, huh? I didn't intend to... I didn't even know who he was. You see, I wasn't here when he held up the bank. I was on my way back to town from Winter Talibah's ranch. I'd read out to tell her that her account was overdrawed again. And this fellow, he come at me out of the dark, told me and wanted my horse. I didn't even stop to think. I just grabbed my gun and left fire. I never should have done it, Mr. Ponsett. I don't know what got into me. You're sorry you shot a man like Wyatt King? No, no, no, no, not exactly, but it's kind of hard to explain. The fact is, I'm married, Mr. Ponsett. And Matilda, that's my wife, Matilda's kind of particular about some things. She's real particular about me. That's why I got aware of this dog going collar. Just catch my neck so I can hardly stand it sometimes. Is that so? I sure feel sorry for her, to be honest, but I don't see what that's got any connection with. Well, now, Mr. Ponsett, don't you see if Matilda knew, if I so much as carried a gun, well, she'd just have a conniption fit. And if she was to find out that I used to be, that kind of experience that gunplay, why, she'd just raise a roof. I don't think she'd ever let me get out of her sight after that. You see, I never told her that when I was younger, I used to be sort of quick on the trigger. Ha, ha, ha, ha. I'll be doggone. Well, I take it your talents haven't exactly deserted you. Well, sir, that was a dog-gondersting. I wouldn't even had that gang revival with me, except that Witte Toliver had given me some money to deposit, and she was real worried about my getting it into town. All right, you see, it was old Smith Toliver's gun. She insisted on owning it to me. I see. When this Wyatt King jumped up at me, well, I guess some of my old instincts must have come through. The next thing I knew, he was laying there in the dirt, not moving. Yeah, I'll be done. Now, mind you, I wasn't a gunfighter in my younger days, but I did kind of manage to shoot my way out of a few scrapes. Yes, I don't look much like it now, do I? Well, a man's liable to do a certain amount of age, and I expect. Sometimes I think I've done more in my share. Well, anyway, I suppose you can see now why I don't want folks to know what happened last night about me and Wyatt King. Yeah, yeah, I guess you've got a point, Jonas. But I can't go on taking the credit for what you did. Well, Mr. Punchett, you give me your word on it. No, no, no, no, I didn't do any such thing. Well, you sure did. Well, I wouldn't have been telling you all this if I didn't. I didn't. Mr. Hawkins, Mr. Hawkins, what's all the lumpes about? Wyatt King just broke out of jail. He broke out of jail? Some darn fool forgot to lock himself. Sheriff thinks he's heading toward Badwater Falls, who are getting a posse together. Well, we won't be needing you, Jonas. Oh, no, no, no, of course not. But the sheriff was real anxious to have you come along, Mr. Punchett. Is that so? Well, I'm sorry, I won't be able to oblige. But you've already captured Wyatt once. Well, let's just say that once was enough. As a matter of fact, I'm frigging on leaving town. That way is Badwater Falls. South, do south. I'm heading north. So long. Well, inside of five minutes, the whole town of Copper Springs had ridden off from a southerly direction. The male population of it. I guess Jonas and I were about the only two men that hadn't joined up with the sheriff's posse. In a way, I was kind of relieved that King had broken out of jail. At least I'd be able to leave town without any more of this foolishness about me capturing him. I thought that I ever wanted a fellow like King to go free, you understand? But I figured the posse would probably catch up to him pretty soon. He couldn't have had much of a head start. So I headed over the livery stable to get scar. I'd already paid for his keep in advance, but the man around the stable had gone off for the others, and I didn't feel like sticking around for the refund. Easy boy. Easy scar. I looked around for his saddle. It was lying on the floor over by a pile of hay. And just as I picked it up, I noticed something funny about the hay. It was starting to move. Just keep holding on to that saddle, Ponson. Don't reach for your gun. Quiet. If you make a move, I'll ram this pitchfork right through you. Oh, you're crazy. Why? You'll never get out of town. Ain't nobody left in town to stop me, except you. You've got a wound in your belly. That'll stop you. Don't worry about me, Ponson. I'll make out. Now I'm taking your gun and your horse. There are plenty of other horses here. I'm taking yours. Quiet. Shut up. You'll get a taste of these problems. Well, there wasn't any point in my arguing about it, not with a pitchfork digging under my chest. So I waited until he reached out a hand for my gun, and I gave that saddle a little toss. Caught him right in the middle. He went over backwards. I started to go from a holster, but while it stuck out the handle of that pitchfork, and the next thing I knew, I was down on the floor beside him. He banged his fist in my face, and I felt his hands go from my throat. I managed to get up on a knee and slipped him over. I heisted myself onto my knee, but he let loose with a kick, and I went flat again. I got a glimpse of his boot coming into my face, and I just got out of the way in time. Then he missed me, and almost lost his balance, and I had time to get on my feet again. I came charging in with both fists again, and one of them would pass my ear, and the other one smashed into my shoulder, and I left him wide open. I just couldn't leave him lying there on the floor unconscious. I figured it wouldn't be very long before he came too, so I picked him up and carted him across the street where he belonged. The jail was completely deserted, and I wasn't assigned anybody, and the door to why it's cell was unlocked, so I laid him on the cop inside, and pulled the blanket up over him. I didn't want to catch cold or anything like that, and I found the key in the front office, and I locked him in. Hey, Jonas! Well, hold up a minute, Jonas. Mr. Pontius! What? I thought you left Jonas. I'm leaving right away, Jonas, right away. That is, if you'll do me a little favor. A favor? Yeah, your proof for the day with the bank, aren't you? Yes, yes, yes. We closed at four o'clock sharp. I'm on my way home now. Well, I was wondering if you'd mind putting off your supper a little bit. Well, my killer, hmm? Until the posse comes back, that is. Well, what for, Mr. Pontius? Well, you see, I was over at the jail just a minute ago, and there's nobody over there watching things while the sheriff's out of town. I don't see what difference it makes. Why, at King was the only prisoner, and he's escaped. Yeah. But even so, you know, suppose somebody were to break in. Like, they could do a lot of damage, you know. The sheriff's probably got some important papers and the files. No, Mr. Pontius. No, but you never know, Jonas. You never know about things like that. Well, I guess the sheriff should have locked up when he left. I don't see what... Well, then you won't mind holding down the fort while he's gone. Well, I... Well, as long as there aren't any prisoners to look after... I just wouldn't feel right about running off it if there wasn't somebody to mind the jail. Well, Mr. Pontius, it sure seems to me like you're worrying unnecessarily, but where, I guess I can do that much for you. Thanks, Jonas. I really appreciate it. All I have to do is sit in the front office as somebody shows up. All right, Mr. Pontius, I'll get right over there. Come on, Jonas. Good luck to you. Oh, Mr. Pontius. I hope you aren't put out about letting folks think it was you who shot Wyatt King last night. Oh, I guess I'll get over it. After all, sometimes it is best if a man takes a responsibility for something, even if he hasn't done it himself. All right? Oh, oh, yeah. Yeah, I guess that's that. Well, I'll be saying, yeah. I'll tell you what. I got out of Copper Springs as fast as I could. I just wasn't sure how things were going to work out. But then, a couple of weeks later, a copy of the Copper Springs press caught up with me. And there was Jonas Pilgrim's picture all over the front page. Yes, sir. A great big article telling how his sheriff and his posse had come back to town without finding a trace of Wyatt. And there he was, right in the jail. And there was Jonas Pilgrim snoozing in the front office, calm as a cucumber. Mother's Pilgrim, that's what the paper called, Jonas. He said he tried to deny anything to do with Wyatt's capture, but the folks in Copper Springs, they just hadn't believed him. Well, it was plain as day that he'd taken Wyatt single-handed. Well, like Jonas said, sometimes it's best for a man to take the responsibility of a thing even if he hasn't done it. The Sick Shooter is a transcribed NBC radio network production in association with Review Productions. It is written by Frank Burt and is based on a character created by him. Mr. Stewart may currently be seen in the Universal International Picture, the Glenn Miller story. Others in the cast were Bill Johnstone, Herb Bygren, Junius Matthews, Barney Phillips, and Joel Cranston. Special music for this program was by Basil Adler, and the entire production is under the direction of Jack Johnstone. All characters and incidents were fictitious, and any resemblance to actual characters or incidents is purely coincidental. By the way, you'll be interested in knowing that the Sick Shooter has been chosen for broadcast to our men overseas through the facilities of the Armed Forces Radio Services. This is John Wall speaking. McDonnell Carey stars in Jason and the Golden Fleece tonight on the NBC Radio Network.