 Tom Dodd's city, and the territory on West are just one way to handle the killers and the spoilers. And that's with the U.S. Marshal and the smell of gun smoke. Gun smoke, the story of the violence that moved West with young America. The story of a man who moved with it, Matt Dillon, United States Marshal. Wanted for murder. Wanted for murder. Play Richards. Play Richards. Age 31. Height six feet. Eyes brown. Hair red. Eyes brown, hair red. Hey, how'd you like me to print his picture on these notices? I got a woodcut. Well, let me show you. Ernie! Yeah? That's your Marshal a copy of that front page. Interviewing Clay's wife yesterday, I noticed a tin type on the mantle. Their wedding photograph. So, first thing you know, I snitched it. It's very thoughtful. Yeah. Oh, I'll take it, Ernie. Thank you. And then I propped it up in front of me and carved me this woodcut. Ain't she prime? Ain't she just elegant? Real elegant. Good likeness, don't you think? Of course, he was seven or eight years younger with a tin type. Yeah, it's a good likeness. Doesn't show what makes a law a Biden man like you and try to rob a bank. Doesn't look like a man who murdered an old cashier and a Chinese cook who just happened to be there. But it's a good likeness. There it is. A picture like this sure addresses up the front page, don't it? Yeah, it's a little masterpiece, Mr. Hightower. A notable contribution to the culture of that city. Well, thank you, Marshal. It does fetch the eye, don't it? I'm printing an extra 500 copies of the weekly and I bet I sell them all. Too bad the cashier's shot went wild. If he'd managed to kill Clay or even wing him, why, I bet I could sell a thousand extra copies. We must be thankful for the blessings we do receive, Mr. Hightower. Oh, I am, Marshal, I am. Why, just before it happened yesterday afternoon, I didn't know what I was going to fill my columns with. And then, like manna from heaven, two murders in the bank robbery. Attempted bank robbery, Mr. Hightower. He turned and ran for. He got his hands on so much as a dollar. Still as you say, like manna. Dylan, I... I'm talking business. What is it, Chester? It can wait, I guess, Mr. Dylan. Yeah, a print Clay's picture on those notices, Mr. Hightower. Oh, where were we? Eyes, brown, hair, red. Oh, yes. Also known as red, brick top, and sorrow. He didn't answer to no other nicknames, did he? No, that's what they call him. All right, then in big letters, $400 reward. Dead or alive. And at the bottom, apply Matt Dylan, Marshall, Dodge City. Mm-hmm. And print 200 copies. How soon, Kay, I'll send Chester over for him. This afternoon. Good morning, Mr. Hightower. Chester. I think those posters don't do any good. Richard is probably over the line into Oklahoma or Colorado but now, and Strawberry Rowan is the fastest in the county. He has no money. He panicked and ran out of the bank before he got a penny. I think he'll try to get help from his wife or brother or a friend the first chance he has, maybe tonight. I'd say he's around here somewhere. I, uh... I'm sorry I turned on you like that, Chester. Why, that's all right, Mr. Dylan. Out all night with a posse, no sweet man's bound to touch it. No, it's not that. It's the way... It's the way people use a thing like this. The men riding posse last night, they enjoyed it as though they were hunting fox or possum. Hightower back there, he acts like it was a birthday treat, especially gotten up for him. Everybody finds a way to use it. What was it you wanted to tell me? Oh, I got a kid. A little boy locked up in the cell. He would run away from home, back in Cottonwood. It was late to turn him over to him when he'd come through on the stagecoach just now. A kid about 12 years old. Who's Izzy? She's a good woman, Miss Bonnie. She runs a boarding house in Cottonwood. It says kids always run away a little while, I guess. He flagged Ed for a ride on the road halfway between there and here. Soon as Ed seen him stand there with his bundle on his shoulder, he noted what he was up to. So he told the kid he'd help him and then turn him over to us when he got here. All right, we'll send a telegram to the mother to come fetch him. Well, come on in, Chester, and shut the door. Mr. Dylan? You're letting an ever-horse fly in Kansas. Mr. Dylan, I think you'd better cancel all of them notices. What? The Dutchman's coming up the street and he's leading us from our own and Clay Richards is great to cross his bastard. Like a sack of wheat across the saddle. Last time I saw him, two days ago, he was standing at the bar, laughing his head off. A sack of wheat across the saddle and followed by half the salooned bums and loafers and tome. All right, Chester, make him keep back. All right, now stand back, you fellas. Come on now, back, stand back. Ziggler, how did it happen, Ziggler? My goat, my old Billy goat, he pushed us open the fence last night and runs away. Forget your goat, what about Clay? I tell you, this morning I go to look for the goat. I walk here, there, from near the river, I see Clay. He sits there. I say, hello, Clay. I'm dirty, Dutchman. You know the dog? Hey, was your best friend, he helped you buy your farm so you'd kill him for me? Keep back, everybody. Kill Clay? Me? No, no, my brother, he was like, we were in the war together, but I listened. You killed him for the war? Not so. Like nobody, not since Gettysburg. Clay is dead already when I find him. I don't even own a pistol. Ziggler, inside, quick. Yeah, yeah. Chester, give me a hand with Clay. All right, all of you. Listen up. Hey! Disturbance. You know me. Chester, take his legs. I don't kill Clay. On this table, Chester. What'd you do with Clay's gun as Holster's empty? Gun? Clay's? I ain't got it. I don't even own one. Chester, see if it slipped out. Clay was empty coming up the street. First thing I noticed, maybe it's over on that. Another customer who has three in less than a day. Oh, bountiful harvest. My fees this month will keep me in luxury. In luxury. Doc, I want to have an inquest as soon as possible. As soon as I finish the autopsy, shouldn't take long with the practice I've had this week. Late afternoon all right with you. I'll take him up to my office right now. No thank you, Chester. I am all by myself here. You just open the door there like a good fella. Oh, oh, oh, oh. Ah, yeah. Yeah, Marshal, tell the city fathers I'd like to make a deal when the corpses are as famous as this one. Back in 53 in San Francisco, fella I knew earned a fortune. Exhibited in the head of walking Marietta. Tell him if they let me keep the remains, I'll do the autopsies for now. Shut the door, Chester. Ziggler, where is it you met Clay on the river? By the fort. This side by the fort. Ride out there, Chester, and see if you can find Clay's gun. Maybe he dropped it when he was shot. I did not shoot, Clay, sure. I did not. I had no reason to. I did not. I did not. You listen to me. Maybe you think Dodge has got so big I don't know about everything that goes on here. Well, if you do, you're wrong. If you think I don't know about the bank having an overdue mortgage on your farm, you're wrong. One hundred dollars is reason enough for a struggling farmer like you. No! Good not to such a thing. I am a human being. To a peace officer, Ziggler, that's enough grounds for suspicion. But whether you did it or not will be decided at your trial. In the meantime, you just stop yammering about it. Trial? Me? Even when I shoot somebody, I stand trial if they find it's justifiable homicide. They probably will. Clay will be in a wanted man and he'll let you off. And if not... Please, I am permitted to go now. Go. Are you crazy? I found the stalker. I must look after him. You sit right down. You want to be lynched? You're trying to get yourself murdered if you've forgotten about Clay's brother, Adam? Adam would not believe a shot. What difference does it make whether he believes it or not? His brother's been killed. Everybody's looking to him to do something about it and he knows it. You want me to guess where he is right this minute? He's in one of them saloons lapping up courage to come in here and ask me to give you to him for a present. You want to know who's with him? Ever a loafer? Ever a bum? Ever a slob in town? Slapping him on the back and telling him what a shame it is. Taking him on to kill you so that they can have some excitement and some fun. Well, maybe you deserve killing but it's my job to uphold the law and I'm not letting you out of here. You might spend your time trying to think up a better story. That is if you intend to stay in this town. All right, now think back. Didn't Clay go for his gun before you shot him? I'll tell you, I didn't. If I'm not under arrest, you have no right to keep me here. I got to look after my farm. I go. All right, Chester Lachema. Yes, Mr. Dillon. Come on, now, Ziggy. Step out, sonny. This cage is bespoke. Who's in there, Chester? That little runaway from Cottonwood. Oh! Come over here, son. Come over here to meet her. Kind of who you are. You do, don't you? You bet. You're Matt Dillon. You're not guilty. I knowed you right off. He was pointing out to me one day back home. Filler says you was the fastest gunthrower in Kansas. A wild herb wouldn't be awful interested to hear that, I'm afraid. Filler says you was faster than older, faster than wild boar, hickock, and hay city, and bat and master sooner any of them. How many fellas are you killed? You don't keep score, son. It's something you try to forget. Not me. Someday I'll be famous like you, and for every filler I kill, I'll put a notch on my gun. People see those notches, and they'll know they better not try to... Why'd you run away from home, bub? Don't you know your mother's likely to worry about you? Oh, she won't worry. She's too busy working. You ain't gonna make me go back, are you? You wouldn't do that, would ya? Well... You wouldn't stop me for long. I'd only run away again. Well, where are you off to in such a sweat? Oh, Texas, California, Mexico. They'll accomplish things there, not like living in old cottonwood. If you let me go someday when I'm famous, you can tell people you helped get me started. Well, that's a pretty strong inducement. I'll have to think about it for a while, and look, while I'm making up my mind, I want you to give me your word. Word of a man who'll be famous someday that he won't try to run away from me. Otherwise, I'll have to have Chester Lockie up again. I'll shake on that. Good, good. Now, Chester, I want you to go look for Clay's gun. Yes, Mr. Dillon. And on the way, stop off and send that telegram. You know? Mm-hmm. Oh, that telegram. Yes, Mr. Dillon. Where's Sikler? It's all right, Chester. Go ahead. Yes, Mr. Dillon. Where's that murdering dog? Oh, there you are. Not a single step further, Adam. I want him, Dillon. He murdered Clay, shot him down without giving him a chance. How do you know? Because Clay wouldn't have let anyone catch him off guard except a friend. Well, now, Dillon, give me that Dutchman. Try to take him. Just like that? Just like that. It's true what the fellows say. You made a deal with the Dutchman to give him the reward and to protect him if he'd kill Clay for you. That was the deal, wasn't it? Yeah. The fellows say why I'd make such a deal. Dillon, it ain't no longer a secret around town that you and Francie warned each other, but Clay was in the way you had him killed so you could get his wife. Do you deny it? No. No. He'll serve as well as any other crazy story to work you up. You think you're safe behind that star, don't you? Well, Clay had friends, lots of them. I'm coming back with them friends. He will get the Dutchman and you and anyone else who tries to stop us. All right, Adam. I'll be waiting. Yeah. You'll wait. I almost seen something pretty just then, didn't I, Mr. Dillon? Yeah, almost. I don't know that kind of whiskey ought to do it. He will return for the second act of gun smoke in just a moment, but first, many radio shows win high popularity with the prizes and cash they give away, but there's one show that stops because the headman gives away as little as possible. What other radio program could it be, but the Jack Benny show is all be listening. Here's the second act of gun smoke. Son. You say something, Mr. Dillon? Yeah, open my drawer in front of you there. You'll find a small bottle of oil in there. No, the one on the right. Yeah, that's it. Now bring a little brush, too, huh? Here it is. Thanks, bud. It's a right nice gun you have. Yeah, it's not bad, but a little stiff, just a little stiff. Do you want to have a trigger? I've never seen a gun without a trigger before. Oh, you remove a trigger or tie it back against the guard. You know what you have to do is blow my hammer. Yeah, like that. It's faster. Yeah, that's better now. That was a trigger. I'll remember that. What in the world for? Well, I remember everything you told me about the Texas holster and the spring holster and the double roll and filing off the site. It's just me, Mr. Dillon. Oh, any luck, Chester? No, sir, not any. I went to the store first and asked Mr. Denton what kind of ammunition Clay Richard used to buy, and he told me Clay had a double action 44. I scarred that riverbank a half mile each way from the Ford and not a sign of it. I got that telegram off. I don't know who ought to be here pretty soon. It's only seven, eight miles from... It's out of fire in town? Funeral services from Mr. Grinnell, a cashier. So soon? It's awful hot weather. Yeah. Any guns need oil, Chester? I don't think so. You sure? When Adam left, he said he'd be coming back with some friends. I know. I stopped at the Alapaganti just now to rinse out of my mouth. I was there talking mighty ugly and mighty big. He's got a sizeable following. When do you think? Any minute now, Mr. Dillon. It want me to take Bob out of here to one of the hotels, maybe? I want to see him. No, I think you'll be safer here, Chester, behind stone walls and docking about the streets rubbing naked. You keep your head down, sonny, you hear? Maddie! Maddie, I've got to talk to you. She ought to be in mourning. If she cared for Clay at all anymore, she ought to be in black. Maddie. Oh, Lord, I find her more beautiful when we're trying. Maddie, have you heard what they're saying? What are they saying, Francie? That you and me... that you may, Pete Ziggler, kill him because of... I'm sorry that got back to you, Francie. It's all over, Dodge. Adam almost strangled me before they dragged him off. Francie, I didn't shoot Clay. Francie, I beg you, believe me. How is he...? Shut up, Ziggler! He... Shut up or I'll fucking attack! Francie is just one of those crazy stories. They needed one and they made one up. But, Maddie, everyone believes it. When my way down here, people were pointing, whispering, old women clucking their tongues at me. They believed it. They'll forget it as soon as this is over. They'll remember that even if we once did go with each other, it was finished and done with even before the war ended, before you even met Clay. No, they won't forget it. For the rest of my life, as long as I stay here... Hold it, Lord Francie. Yeah, Doc, what is it? Am I interrupting? What is it, Doc? Our topsy's finished. I examined his liver and lysis... This is Mrs. Richards, Doc. Oh, I beg your pardon, ma'am. I'm sure I have made no disrespect for the department. Well... Well, Clay was shot all right, but from the nature of the wound and the coagulation of the blood, I'd say it happened sometime yesterday. I'd say the cashier's bullet didn't go wild after all. How could a dead man gallop away? Well, the wound wasn't what killed Clay. It all hit the rib case and bounced off. 22 caliber it was. And what did kill him was the stab in the back, right through the spine, inflicted sometime this morning. Now, near as I can judge it by a small blade all through three inches long. It could have been a Barlow knife. Thanks, Doc. Please accept my condolences, Mr. Richards. You call the inquest. Anytime you're ready, Marshal. Chester, close the door. You see, I didn't do it. I didn't shoot him. All right, then you stabbed him, maybe. Do you want to carry the gun? Look, Francie, go home and give matters a chance to simmer down. Matt, go and ask you for something. Yeah? Turn Pete Ziggler out into the street. What? Francie, they're itching to get their hands on him. Let him have him. It'll prove that story's a lie that you didn't make a deal with him. Please, Matt, I have to live here. Listen to me, I have to live here. Don't look at me like that. Go home, Francie. Go home or leave town or hang yourself or anything you like. Just go away. Matt. Away, right now. I bought me a bottle at the Aleph again, Mr. Dillon. Would you care for a drink? No. Guess the funeral's over. There'll be others. Funny. Now, I miss that bell. Awful quiet, ain't it? It's just what? Just about on schedule. Are you ready, Chester? Yes, Mr. Dillon. I use a shotgun if I were you. It's more effective when there's a mob to be dealt with. Oh, yes, right. Ziggler, you too, son. If trouble starts, lie down, flat on the floor and keep your head down all the time. Don't go out to see what's happening. You understand me? Yes, sir, Mr. Dillon. All right. Let's go. Dillon! Dillon! Chester, I want you to stand here in the doorway after I go out where you can cover the back door and meet the same time. Yes, sir, Mr. Dillon. All right, Chester. Open the door. It's my duty to warn all of you that you're in the breach of the peace. I've sworn to uphold the law. I've killed men in order to do it, and I'm prepared to do so again. Give us a doctrine, Dillon. It's going to be sensible and to leave quietly. But if you refuse to listen to reason, if you insist upon being fools, if you've already decided to act like wolves instead of humans, then there's nothing I can say to make you change your minds. All right. All right, you want Peter's England? Well, he's not more than 20 feet behind. Get his gun. Man, I couldn't even see your hand move. And my shell? Oh, don't tell me. Don't tell me. Doc, you make one single funny remark and I'll knock you down. You just take him to your office and get to work. Well, I never do mean to offend Marshal. In my line of work, well, body is there just so much lumber. They call the jokes about him, you please, but not to me and not in my hearing. In my line of work, there's nothing humorous about death. Give him a hand, Chester. You know, I can handle him, Marshal. Thank you. Thank you. Just the same. Can you direct me to the Marshal's office? Uh, yes, ma'am, right here. I'm Marshal Dillon. I left Cottonwood as soon as I got your telegram. I'm Miss Bonnie. Where's my boy? Oh, we have him, ma'am, Satan's son. Here, let me help you down. Hit that horse, Chester. Right this way, ma'am. Oh, I'm so sorry he put you all that trouble, Marshal. The truth of the matter is he is a wild one and no mistake, takes after his father one scrape after another. He was no trouble at all. I enjoy children. I like to have them around. Bob? Bob, you're Mars here. Son? Chester, where's the boy? Did you let him slip past you? No, sir, Mr. Dillon. He never got past me. Look, the back door's open. He's seen me and he high-tailed it, the devil. We'll round him up for you, ma'am. Don't worry. Oh, I don't know why I bother hauling him back. If he's run away once, he's run away a thousand times. This time he ran because I wouldn't buy him a gun. He wanted a real one. That boy's just gun-crazy, I swear. I got him a nice Barlow knife instead. I reckon it didn't signify and off he runs. Barlow knife? A kid. Chester finds that kid. Marshal, has he done something bad with it? I told him to use it carefully. He promised he'd use it carefully. Never mind, Chester. He's got Clay's strawberry ruin. We'd never catch up to him. Oh, I try to bring him up right. I tell him to be good, but he don't listen. He just don't listen. He doesn't listen to himself, ma'am. Just calm yourself. Here's your little bundle, Mr. Dillon. What? Give it to me. That's pretty heavy. Here, you're better at knots than I am. Open it, will you? The moment he was born, he had been nothing but tribulation to. No, please, ma'am. What's he got in it, Chester? Shirt, stockings, piece of sausage, and this. 44 double action. That's Clay's gun. Sonny didn't manage to keep it long, did he? Well, if he wants a gun that bad, he's bound to get hold of another one somewhere somehow. Chester, call Mr. Hightower over. Hey, Mr. Hightower! Come on over, Mr. Dillon, won't you? Marshal, could I have a piece of drink of water? Well, Zeigler, I forgot all about you. Chester, where are the keys? Right there on the desk. There we are. It'll be safe for you to go home now. I can go back by the phone. Yeah, that's right. I'll send for you for the trial. Well, Duncan should. Duncan should! Watch where you're going, you dumb... Excuse me. Yes, Marshal? Mr. Hightower, it appears that we can do business after all. Get some paper and a pencil. I want some notices printed far away. Wanted for murder? I'm murdering. What's the boy's name? Bonnie. William Bonnie. William Bonnie. William Bonnie. Age 12. Hight about five feet. Hair light, eyes blue. I don't suppose he's known by any other name. I know. Everybody just called him Billy. Or the kid. Oh, so known as Billy. The kid. That's Matt Dillon, U.S. Marshal. Tonight's story was specially written for Gunsmoke by Walter Newman with music composed and conducted by Rex Corey. Featured in tonight's cast were Don Diamond, Polly Bear, Harry Bartel, and Howard McNair with Richard Beals, Paul Dubov, Georgia Ellis, and Mary Lansing. Join us again next week as Matt Dillon, U.S. Marshal fights to bring law and order out of the wild violence of the West in Gunsmoke. Those longtime favorites, Amos and Andy are rising to new heights in their CBS radio series on Sunday nights. Heard on most of these same stations, Amos and Andy find trouble as constantly as ever and make it just as funny and as human as they have for more than 20 years. Be sure to hear Amos and Andy this Sunday, won't you? Right after the Jack Benny show. This is Roy Rowan speaking. And remember there's fast, funny quizzing on the Bob Hawks show every Monday evening. This is the CBS Radio Network.