 Frontier Town, the saga of the Roaring West. Frontier Town, El Paso, Cheyenne, Calgary, Tombstone. Frontier Town, here is 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! In case you've forgotten or never did know, I'm Chad Remington. Frontier lawyer from the cow town known as Dos Rios. And as I've said a time or two before, out on the brawling, sprawling frontier, a lawyer gets into all sorts of things. Especially trouble. And trouble out our way not only starts with a capital T, but often ends with capital punishment. I guess it was last month when a friend of my father's, Harvey Burnside, wrote and asked me if I had time to come down to where he lives. A town which he had built himself from practically nothing. A town named Burnside Falls. Harvey has a brother, Milo Burnside, who owns the little bank in Burnside. And between them I guess Harvey and Milo pretty well control that section of the country. Well, while Cherokee O'Bannon, a medicine man who now runs the Dos Rios livery stable and bangs around with me, was trying to find two horses from his stable that would take us to Burnside Falls and back, the situation which caused Harvey to write me suddenly started getting worse. So much worse that Harvey paid a call on his brother Milo at the bank. Milo, let's quit mincing words now. Let's get down to cases. All right, Harvey, let's. What's on your mind? And I've been hearing things about you, Milo. Things I don't like to hear about any man, let alone my brother. Well, you don't say. I heard you've been over to War Dance last week. And what if I have? War Dance is a mighty nice and bustling little town. Harvey, it's high time you were getting some sensory ahead. When the railroad agreed to build its western terminal into whichever town the voters choose as the county seat of Buckshot County, nobody figured a dreamer like you would build a town out here right in the middle of the prairie. My eye, Burnside Falls lies between three trails and two rivers. The best dad-blame place in the whole state for a county seat. That's what I thought once. You mean you changed your mind since old man McCall put some of his jerk water aeroids money on deposit in your bank? Money. That's all you ever think of. Well, you'd be a lot better off if you did sometimes. Harvey, stop being blind. That new town of War Dance is a good 80 miles closer to where the rails now end. And it'd make an ideal county seat. War Dance, what is it? Nothing but a hideout for a bunch of owl hoots like Cap Kilmore and his gang. Sure, McCall and the railroad are like that. Building in the War Dance would save them a couple hundred thousand dollars because it's closer. But they got their franchise on the strength of connecting up to whatever town the people select. Oh, the people, my neck. Now look, Harvey, it's worth good coal cash to me and I'll see you won't lose. If you help me convince the people that War Dance and not Burnside Falls should be voted the county seat next week. Yeah, they'll vote just how they please. And you, your bank, are that railroads not going to interfere. You pig-headed old fool. If you weren't my brother, I'd tell you to go for your gun. And if you keep trying to interfere you may still have your chance, brother or no brother. And if you don't lay off, Milo, I may go for my gun first. Well, that was the situation when O'Bannon and I arrived and Burnside Falls. A wide-open split between Harvey and Milo Burnside. But being brothers, Harvey was reluctant, more than reluctant to make a public issue of what he believed and knew. And his wife, Sarah, hoped that somehow I might be able to talk sense into his money-grubbing brother's head. And that's about the whole story, Chad. The railroad can save upwards of $200,000 building into War Dance instead of here. And that's why the railroad can afford to offer Milo money to try and throw the election to War Dance. Now, I'm reluctant to say this, but your brother sounds to me like an inferious little nickel-nurser. Yes, that's the way it looks. And I'd bet Milo would sell the railroad out even now if anyone offered him $5 more. How does he figure to swing the election? Figure to swing it? Why, he's swinging it right now. People are actually pulling up stakes here and moving to War Dance already. Yeah, enough of a move. I suppose they'll have a majority of the votes. Well, folks, I don't know what good it's going to do, but come on, let's ride into town and pay a call on Brother Milo. The town of Burnside Falls lets Mike prosper. They've already passed seven stores. Two saloons. Saloons. Oh, Ben, and I don't mind you're admiring the saloons from the outside. This trip, you're not pouring what they peddle down your insides. Where's this bank your brother's located, Harvey? Just down at the end of this block, Chad, that gray and white building. Good grief, do you see what's happening? The bank's being held up. There go the dirty buzzards who held up the bank, hitting the horses and high-intending it up the town. Come on, boys, even with a head start they've got, we may still be able to overtake them. Get up there, you! Get running! The excitement brought everybody in town out into the street. By the time we'd threaded our way through the crowd, the bank bandits were out of town and into the hills. The trail ended in the rocks. We all turned our horses and piled back into town, back to the bank itself to find out what had actually happened. Boys, boys, boys, now, if you're only quiet down, maybe we can all hear what Milo has to say. My neighbors, I hate to tell you this, and if you'd have caught the men who rifled the bank, the story would be different. But the way they clean me out to keep up my legal cash reserves now, I am forced to declare all loans, due, and payable immediately. Now, men, now, men, I'm sorry, and as sorry as I am, the law's the law. And to tell the truth, as soon as I've got things straightened out here, I'm closing up and trying to make back what I've lost by moving my bank over to Wardance. You don't mean there's some connection between the bank robbery and you're moving to Wardance, do you, Burnside? That's the kind of idea it would be healthier never to put into words again, Remington. Oh, so? Well, I've heard of men being railroaded to jail before, but this is the first time I've ever heard of a railroad being the cause of moving a whole bank and its president up to the federal penitentiary. Burnside, after all I've been through today, you don't happen to have a little drop in the house, do you? Well, if you're as weak as all that, Cherokee, we'll go to the drugstore and get you some smelling salts. Besides, right now, none of us has got anything to celebrate. Milo's little bank robbery was too successful. You mean to think that Milo arranged the robbery? Oh, I ain't denying that Milo's ornrich had, but I can't believe Harvey's brother would frame a robbery on his own bank. Well, maybe not, Sarah. But Harvey did say that this other town, Wardance, is the hideout of a lot of owl hoots. You blamed right, fellas like Cap Killmore moved in there. And the question is, how come and why did Killmore move down here from his own stamping grounds, the Dakotas? Well, I don't know anything about that, Chad, but Killmore showed up in these parts about, uh, and let's see now, about three months back. Three months ago, huh? And when did you first hear about this railroad thing and their anxiety to make Wardance the county seat? Well, let's see. Well, it seems to me that that was about, uh, yeah. Yeah, that was three months ago, too. Do you think there's a connection between the railroad and Cap Killmore, Chad? Well, I don't know for sure, but there certainly could be. The railroad starts working on Milo, deposits money in his bank, and Milo writes a letter and hires himself a handyman like Cap Killmore. Chad, do you honestly think Milo would go out and hire a crook and drive folks over to Wardance? Plamed if I know. But it certainly makes a reasonable supposition. And with the election only a few days off, all we can do before we're sure is sit back and wait. Wait for action. If you're still in Burnside this time tomorrow, you and your old family will stay at Burnside. You're not driving me from my home. Yeah? Well, then maybe someone will dig you, I know, huh? Chad, I know. My husband brought you down here to help us. But we just can't go on this way. We can't go on just sitting around while these gun-toters blow Burnside falls apart. Now, now, Sarah, that ain't Chad's fault, you know? Well, maybe it isn't. But it was Chad who said sit back and see what happened. And look what's happened. Folks shot down, places burned up, and almost half the people over here picking up and moving to Wardance to save their lives. My dear Mrs. Burnside, even though I used to sell a medicine which was a miracle, it's going to take more than a miracle to stop this lawlessness as quickly as you'd like. Yes, but you don't understand. Folks are moving away from here a dozen families a day. Just like sheep, that's what they are. And the blackest sheep of the lot is that no good brother of mine, Milo. It isn't all right even saying things like that, Harley. Even though saying and proving in Milo's case are as far apart as Pike's Peak and Death Valley. Oh, how can you prove anything on a gang of cutthroats like that? Thousands upon thousands of dollars behind them just to buy votes and bullets. And that's just the frame of mind. They want you and other folks around here to stay in, Sarah. They want you scared to death. They want you to give up before you're licked. Don't you see that's winning half the battle for them? Well... They're not only making this a war, they're making this a war of nerves. I've got my nerves so frazzled that I'm even willing to take a drink of my Cherokee and din rattlesnake oil. There's nothing else handy around the house, of course. Cherokee, the only thing around this house, is trouble. If Wardance is made the county seat, Harvey and Sarah Burnside will have lost everything they've worked years to build up. And the people of this section will be saddled with a rain of crime and corruption that will make Custer's last stand look like a Sunday school picnic. Now, that's what I mean, Chad. You've got to do something. And we will do something, Sarah. If we can ever figure out something to do. Believe me, I haven't come down here to console you. I've come down to help. I'm not going to sit by and see this county referred to in the history books later on as another gun trouble valley. We'll return to the second act of gun trouble valley, our exciting frontier town adventure in just a few moments. And now, back to frontier town. I might as well admit it. All that high-sounding talk I gave Sarah on Harvey Burnside was really just whistling in the dark. A little pet talk to keep up their confidence. It wasn't until later that afternoon while Cherokee and I were jogging back toward Burnside Falls that any idea hit me at all. Billy Blue blazes, Chad. This whole situation is thoroughly sorted. Sure is, Cherokee. A man not only turning against his own brother, but all of his neighbors and friends. Normal man might suffer from a thirst, like me. Normal thirst. Of course you mean thirst as in thirst for knowledge. Well, knowledge is what gives me my thirst. My brain is so full of knowledge it requires considerable lubrication. Well, I'm glad to learn that, Cherokee. Because next time your thirst overtakes you, I'll just stake you to three rounds of axle grease. Axle grease. I believe an axle grease is better than water. However, referring to Milo Burnside's thirst, his is an unnatural thirst. Thirst for gold. And just about as unquenchable as the average Cherokee, whether you know it or not, you've just given me an idea. It has nothing to do with axle grease. I don't want to hear about it. Far from it. This has got something to do with gold. And I hope the solution to making Burnside Falls the county seat at the election. Gold? What has gold got to do with it? Well, if we can get about three ounces of gold dust and tailings, it may have everything to do with it. Come on, Cherokee. You and I are going to the lion's den. We're riding over to war dance. While Cherokee and I were prodding those livery-stable mags across the county over to war dance, Milo Burnside apparently reached there ahead of us as the result of a summons from Cap Kilmore. If you think because you're the president of a two-bit bank burnside, you can give me orders. You've got a few things coming. Yes. Now, you might as well understand this here now, Kilmore. I hired you, and you're working for me. Yeah. Well, I ain't working for nobody. McCall's railroad is put in the bill, and you and me will wear just partners. And the way I'm starting to feel now, I might be happier if I didn't have any partners at all. You can't threaten me. I promised the railroad we'd move a thousand people away from Burnside and over here to war dance. And if you can't live up to your obligation, I'll get somebody else to do it. Why, you fat-headed buzzard. You're a bigger crook than I am. Double-cross your own brother, rob your own bank, and then move over here like a rat leaving a sink and ship. Why, you cheap murderants! I was just hoping you'd do that. My... my... my... my throat! You're choking me! Don't... don't cap, don't... I've got a good mind to bang your head to the floor. You're going to behave? Yes, yes, yes. And we're in this deal as partners? Yes, yes, Cap. Anything you say. Ah, go on, get up. And remember next time you think you're giving me orders, you'll find it's me who's doing the order. Ordering you a ten-dollar funeral. Two high-grade gentlemen, those two. Either one of them would happily arrange to murder a man for a silver dollar. But of course it was this love of money that not only was the basis of the whole trouble, but also what I hoped would be the solution for Harvey Burnside and Sarah. Cherokee and I were talking it over as our horses slowed up and we hit war dances rutted in Dirty Main Street. Suppose you realize and you're asking me to risk my life by coming over to a town like this, Chair? My war dance is the perfect time for you, Cherokee. It's wide open and lawless. That's what I mean. And being lawless, there's no law here. So there shouldn't be anyone looking for you for peddling that alcohol and water you used to describe as genuine Cherokee Indian rattlesnake oil. Yes, I see what you mean. Yes, indeed. With that poke of gold stuck in your pocket, somebody sure to spot it and try to get it away from you. If they do, that means trouble. Well, I hope somebody spots the gold dust. You hope? Count on you anyway, Chad. Just what are you up to? Well, according to you, I'm up to my neck in trouble. But if you want to know exactly what I plan to do to get the voters back to Burnside, all I can tell you is that I'm only certain of the first move. I'm going to locate Mr. Cap Kilmore and start from there. Okay. Where do you think you can find him? Well, the first place I'm going to look is down the street there, and that's the loon. And that's the loon? Chad, my boy, you're a man of rare perspicacity. Lead the way, my friend and dependable banner to follow. This time, leave the bottle on the bar. Hot me. You, Mr. Kilmore? Yeah. How are you? My name's Foley, Mr. Kilmore. Fellow over there said you wanted to talk to me. Oh, wow. You're one of the folks who moved over here from Burnside Falls, aren't you? That's right. That is a... I ain't sure I'm staying here. I see. Well, maybe I can convince you that you ought to stay here a while, at least until tomorrow when we're holding the election for the county seat. I don't see what you mean, sir. Well, us folks over here in Wardance have got a lot of pride in our community. And if you will stay here for the election and cast your vote for the best interests of the county, we'd be mighty happy to show you our appreciation. Well, that sounds interesting, Mr. Kilmore. You see, the law's funny. It says for a man to vote, he's got own land. So I figured maybe we'd just give you a quarter section of land. And how does that sound, eh? Well, that ain't much of an attraction. The land I've seen since I got over here is so dry a man couldn't raise gophers on it. Well, since that's the way you feel about it, we might buy the land back from you for $50 a good day after the election. Oh, oh, I see. Felly's got to own land to vote. Then after the election, you're a smart one, Cap. You sure are. And you'd better make sure you're smart, too, Foley. Because I'm making it my business to get the name of every man who votes and whether he votes for Burnside Falls or Wardance. I think you get the idea, Foley. I'll see you later. Sure thing. I'll be looking for you the day after election. If, hey bartender, I'll have a beer. Well, Cherokee, this is one time I'm going to buy you a drink. May we squeeze in here, Mr. Yeah, yeah, you bet. Give me two fingers, no chaser. Be careful with those fingers, Cherokee. Don't chew them down past the nails. You fellas here to vote? Far from it. I'm over here because of that crooked election Kilmores trying to run on the people. But I wouldn't say things like that too loud. Why? Has Kilmores got you left, too? Oh, oh. You're in for it now. Here's Kilmores coming back to the bar right now. No, sir. Kilmores don't scare me. I still think he's running a crooked election. What did you say, mister? What's that again? I said this whole election smells rotten to me. Or maybe you don't think so. The only thing I think is that your mouth needs closing. What's your name? What difference does my name make? Well, we got to put something on the headstone. Chad, take it easy. Now, look, if you think you're threatening me, you're not even getting close to it. Because I think you haven't got enough salt in your whole system to do anything about it. Not while I'm standing in front of you. Chad, you're local. Remember, I told you your mouth needed closing. Well... Saffron, Tom kept Kilmores. You're dirty. You knocked his head right off his shoulders you did. All right, you. Now, get up off there. Hey, Cap. Cap, what's that? That little leather pouch that rolled out of his pocket on the floor. Oh, what pouch? This pouch, right here. And look. Look, it's full of gold dust. Gold dust? Yes, gold dust. Wait a minute. Give me that back. Gold dust is mine. Where'd you get this stuff? Well, I'm not waiting. Where'd you get that gold dust? Well, I should never tell you if you didn't have me covered. But, well, I got it out of the bank on Wolf Creek over in Burnside Falls. Come on, man. Let this gold there. We'd better be getting back to Burnside Falls. Tom, your fools come back. Don't you say it's a trick? Come back. Well, you're smarter than I gave you credit for, Kilmore. It was a trick. A trick that was just good enough to spoil your plan for a cooked-up election. And by the time they find it out, the election will be over. Burnside Falls will be the county seat. And you'll be in jail. Why, you dirty double-tea. Let's hear a key duck. Now, let's see what you can do without your gun. Chad, the way you're hitting him, he's gonna fall against the bar and upset those beautiful bottles. Now, that's the first time I've ever seen a man knocked out. Stimulus applied simultaneously. Look at him. He's just bathed in bourbon. Yes. But unfortunately, the bourbon's not going to wash away his sins. But I think by the time a few of the people admit on the stand that the bribes Kilmore offered them that the state will wipe away his sins, although it may take 20 years. On an attorney at law, you certainly violate more laws than you learned about in school. Oh, I don't know about that, Cherokee. The only law I was dealing with in war dance was the law of human nature. As you pointed out earlier and gave me the idea, it was just their thirst for gold which dumped Mr. Kilmore's apple cart. Strange, you should mention thirst and apple carts in the same breath. Because as a Callow youth, one of my dearest delights was imbibing a heart cider. An excellent libation, but I no longer like apples. You mean you're an apple knocker? Not exactly, my boy. But a short time ago, I was re-boldened when I served a dish of applesauce. The whole thing was full of hairs. Full of hairs, eh? Well, maybe that was your fault. You didn't order your applesauce made from the right kind of apples. Is there a certain kind of apple for making applesauce without hairs? Certainly. Next time you order your applesauce, order it made from Baldwin's. Baldwin's! Frontier Town, starring Reed Hadley and featuring Wade Crosby as a Brucell's production. Story and Direction by Paul Franklin. Music Written and Played by Ivan Dittman. 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.