 Saga of the Roaring West, 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, teeming crucibles of pioneer freedom from Teartown. Wonder how many of you folks ever heard the story of the jailbird rangers, the very start of what became the rangers in my state. I come from Dos Rios, just north and west of Texas and I'm the town's only lawyer. My handle, Chad Remington, and if you want to know why I feel qualified to tell you about the jailbird rangers, well I guess it's because on two occasions they almost cost me my life. You see, not too long ago our entire state suddenly burst wide open with every kind of thievery and neighboring in the book, Ruslan, bank robberies, coach holdups and just plain and simple murder. First the big bank in Alamo City was raided and only two days later, way up in the Rockies, a Wells Fargo wagon was stopped and rocked. Eight hours after that, down in the Rim Rock country in the south part of the state, a trail herd of almost 2,000 head of fine cattle was raided and successfully russled. And so it went for the next five, six weeks. A crime in one county and then as the sheriff and his deputies went into action, the gang struck again, maybe 400 miles and five counties away. Well, mighty discouraging business. And in our own county almost every able-bodied man was deputized for the search, even me, our local judge and the owner of the livery stable, Cherokee O'Bannon. Well, after a particularly hot and dusty wild goose chase, we returned to town with our tail feathers dragging and the judge, Cherokee and I went back to my office. He asked me and I know nobody did. I think young man's got batsies balfour, don't you judge? Never mind what you think, Cherokee. Right now, I'm only interested in finding out if the judge thinks enough of my suggestion to go up to the state capitol with us and introduce me to the governor. Well, I'd be glad to introduce you to the governor, Chad. But I don't think it's going to do you any good. Well, I'm willing to take that chance. With every sheriff's authority ending at the borders of his own county, we've got to have state ranges if we hope to break up this crime wave. Chad, my boy, I wish you wouldn't refer to them as rangers. Very name is abhorrent to me. Taste me clean across the state and out of Texas, just because my Cherokee Indian rattlesnake oil failed to grow luxuriant tresses and a ball-headed sergeant. Well, as long as you just drink your rattlesnake oil and don't try to peddle it, you haven't got any worries. Now, how about it, judge? Stagecoach for the state capitol leaves in less than an hour. It's a futile cause, Chad, but I'll do whatever I can. I'll go with it. If Cherokee and I had gone alone, we never would have gotten in to see the governor. The judge, being along, made the difference. The governor received us just about as he was to leave for dinner. In fact, the young lady he was escorting, a willowy and lovely brunette by the name of Dolores Donovan, was there with him. I watched the governor while I pleaded my case and realized the judge was right. It was a hopeless cause. Mr. Remington, this is a total and absolute waste of my time. With the state treasury on the verge of bankruptcy, you come here asking me to authorize further expenses. But we need a state police force, Your Excellency. If you'll pardon me, putting in my two cents worth for the elections just two months away, the governor needs votes. Thank you, my dear gentlemen, and you particularly judge, do you realize how many votes I'd lose if I did authorize additional expenditures at a crucial time like this? Course by election, we may have nothing of value left in the entire state, let alone the treasury. Do you realize that more than a million dollars has been pilfered or sacked already, and each day that goes by adjusted? Governor, we were expected at dinner ten minutes ago, and it's still a thirty minute drive before we get there. Sorry, Miss Donovan, I had no idea I was delaying you. That's quite all right, Mr. Remington. Delighted to have met you. I do hope we meet again sometime. Under less hurried circumstances. Verbally, that's what we were. Pushed right out. Well, forget it, Cherokee. We tried. I had no idea Miss Donovan had such an influence with the governor. But she seems to have. No need to apologize, Judge. You see, his wife died three, four years ago. And as I get the story, Miss Donovan, who is quite wealthy in her own right, moved up here from Texas, and they met. But I didn't think for a minute that, well, that... And do you see that carriage he drove her off in? The state is paying for that. No wonder the treasury's almost bankrupt. Judge, you've done all you could so far, but would you go even further? Well, I don't know, Chad. What do you mean? I mean help me to organize my own state ranges at no expense to the state. Your own? Where could you get the men and the authority? And the authority? Well, I'll assume that. The men? The men I want, you'd have to help me get. What men, Chad? Convicts. Men who are now in the state penitentiary. Convicts? Oh, now, now, look, don't jump down my throat till I'm through. Remember first who most of the law officers suspected of heading up this gang of criminals were after. You mean Vicks Frybeck? I sure do mean Vicks Frybeck, because I think we inherited him from Texas, where the rangers down there ran him and his gang out a short while ago. But what in the name of Tom Katz as Frybeck got to do with these convicts? You're talking about Chad? Well, three or four of them came from Texas. Undoubtedly no Frybeck, or at worst, are known to him. Yes. Now, most men serving time in prison would give anything to get out. And if you could get a handpicked few parole to me, I think they could lead us to Frybeck in short order. And since they say it takes a crook to catch a crook, everyone would profit. You realize, of course, what would happen if the governor learned of it. He'd throw you into jail along with him. If he finds out before we catch Frybeck, after? Well, I think you'll be taking bows all over the place for cleaning up the state. Chad, my friend, all this is just dreaming. How can you get a dozen men out of prison? It's not a dozen, but most down each six. And since the warden happens to be the judge's formal law partner. Chad, I know what's the use of arguing with you. You'll just keep on until I do it anyway. Give me the names of the men you want. If warden Stribbling is the same man I started with in law school, I think you'll have your jail bird rangers before long. Bird rangers is what the judge called him, and the name stuck. The rest of what the judge said stuck, too. But hardly 48 hours later, I heard the toughest and orneriest bunch of cutthroats as stated ever seen. Seated around a campfire and learning what I had in mind. And there was John O. Johnson, Waco Bankpandit, Black Mike Curtis, West Texas cattle thief, and Red Dooley, who shot up the panhandle much to his profit. You gentlemen would pose your oral orifices, and let Remington Fenties, maybe we could get some sleep tonight. Boys, boys, I could talk from now until sunup, trying to explain every little detail of this to you. But the important thing is to get action. Since three of you, John O. Mike and Red, all know Frybeck and can probably get in to see him without having daylight left through you. What I want to do now is have the three of you draw straws to see who goes up there. All right, now look. Look, you knew what this job was before the warden let you out of prison. Anybody who doesn't like it isn't too late to have you sent back now. I think it'd take more than you to send any of us back. Yeah? Give up, T. John. Maybe you're not used to being talked to. Maybe you're used to something more like this. Who do you think you're slapping? John O. Johnson, the Waco Bankpandit. Now get this through your head. Next time I won't just slap you. I'll knock your teeth back down your throat. I got three straws here in my hand. A man who pulls a short one leaves here and walks up that road toward the place you tell me Frybeck's probably using as a hideout. Yeah, Cherokee, you passed the straws around. I just all mine, all mine. All right, who got the short one? Well, come on, hold them up. Johnson, did you hear what I said? If I go up there, Frybeck will probably kill me. You're going up there. Up in the pen, you always talk mighty tough, channel. What's wrong, guy in yellow? Yeah, sure, sure. You two don't have to go. Well, I'm not going either. Oh, yes you are. We'll see about that. You lily livid poor chap. He's down like a steered a rodeo. I'd never mind a cheer in section, Cherokee. Hit Johnson with his feet and start it up toward Frybeck's. Let me do that. Let me do that. I know Frybeck. If he finds out what you're up to, he'll cut my tongue out. You stay here and I'll knock it out. Now get going. Get going. Johnson disappeared into the shadows. Just as the night swallowed him up, I saw him stop and look back, hoping no one was watching, hoping he could get away. I reached for my rifle and raised it to my shoulder. Johnson turned and shuffled ahead. Then the waiting started. There wasn't a sound, a human sound. Even Cherokee couldn't bring himself to talk. The minutes ticked off and then the hours started to vanish into the place where time and good intentions go. Mike Curtis and Dooley as hardened and as black-hearted as they were said almost motionless. They're backs to two trees. I still don't know how much time had dragged by, but sooner or later we heard the unmistakable sounds of a horse approaching. I motioned to Cherokee and the two others. They got up and crowded around me. The only thought that made any sense was that it was John O. Johnson on his way back where the horse he'd either borrowed or stolen from Vicks Frybeck. There's no question that it was just one horse, nothing to be afraid of. We just stood there almost motionless as the horse and rider came closer. And suddenly the horse was almost on top of us and as the rider could make us out in the dark, he swerved and before raking his horse again, dropped something large and heavy at our feet. John O. Johnson or what's left of him after Frybeck got through riddling him with bullets. We'll return to the second act of jail bird rangers, our exciting frontier town adventure in just a few moments. Johnson had taken slugs from every gun in Frybeck's gang, but why it had happened and how it had happened, how Frybeck had even found out that we were there and where we were seemed to have no answer. And I even hate to think of it now, now that it's all over. I'd never been in a spot like that before and believe me, I never will again. There was nothing left for me to do except to face it out with the two men left to me, Dooley and Curtis. I knew this idea was local all the time, Remigener, and I'm telling you right now I'm getting out of here while I still can. Yes, you are getting out, Mike, but do you know where you're going? Well, what do you mean? Johnson's body's got to be taken back to the warden. And so do you, too. Wait a minute. You think you're taking me back to that jail? You got another thing coming. Don't be idiotic, Chad's right. Side is for your own protection. I got all the protection I want. I'm out and I'm free. Well, you won't be out long if Frybeck finds you. Oh, Mike, don't you see? With Johnson dead, everybody and his brother will soon find out you and Dooley are out of the pen and then... Chad, he's grabbing for your rifle. You hog-brained implicitly. Go with it. Cherokee, the other one. Don't let him get away. I mean, tell him I have a good one. He's inside. For a moment there, old Brandon, I thought our numbers had come up. Hey, you did a nice job on Dooley. You know something, Chad? Now I really need a... Well, a drink to be frank about it. Yeah, but right now you're not getting one. Because we've got to tie up these two and start hauling them back to jail before we're caught with two escaped convicts. Take a little advice from a cowtown lawyer. Never get mixed up like I did. Oh, not that the idea wasn't essentially a good one, but when you're dealing with convicts, you've paroled yourself against the strict orders of the chief executive of the state. Well, Cherokee and I have pointed up Curtis and Dooley and started back for the penitentiary as fast as four horses at Carrius. All the while, I thought of nothing except how I could explain General Johnson's death outside the prison walls. The four of us were not over a half-day's ride from the penitentiary, and except for the problem still having no answer, everything seemed to be going smoothly. Chad, after this day is over, if you don't give me two bits to spend over the gleaming mahogany of the nearest tavern, I am going to drink a pint of that snake oil myself. The very thought of it makes me shudder. It's too bad you've got a remedy for snake poisoning instead of lead poisoning, because before this day is over, we may be ne... Uh-oh. And what's this coming? Seems to be a party of horses, about 10 of them. Yeah, it sure does. One of them seems to... Bit Cherokee duck. That's the idea. Who do you think you're shooting at? You make one move, but you'll never... That's them all right. Time will get their guns. Just a minute. There must be some mistake. Who do you think we are? Well, I'm not too sure about you two, but the two with you with their hands tied up are known as numbers 2, 3, 4, 7, 6, and 3, 5, 1, 0, 8, formerly Mike Curtis and Red Duly. And I've got an idea that's starting today all four of you are going to be wearing numbers. Come on. This route, except the judge and the warden, I couldn't understand at the moment. But I was to find out, all right, find out the hard way. All right. Now, with 10 guns pointed at our backs, they had no trouble hurting Cherokee and me into those little wedding rooms they call cells. I hate to be derogatory, my boy, but it seems to me that your idea kind of backfired. Backfired right through John O'Johnson to start with. Now we're running it up to our necks. Please. You're a resident of a calabose as we are. It's the height of inner priority to speak about necks. What are we going to do, Chad? I've sent for the judge. You don't think he's going to be able to get us out of this one? Might help. After all, he is a political leader for Dos Rios County and he does possess a certain amount of influence with the governor. And now, if you'd have sent for Dolores Donovan, you'd have picked someone who really has influence with the governor. Miss Donovan made quite an impression on you, didn't she, Judge? Indeed she did. Too bad it could have been Pice and Purser. She made an impression on me, too, with the judge. Well, it looks like the judge's coming now. Chad Remington, have you any idea of the trouble you're in? He certainly don't have to remind us, Judge. You're outside those bars and we're behind him. Now, isn't that the kind of answer you'd expect from Cherokee Judge? He can always manage to drag bars into the conversation. Chad, how in the name of topic can you act so light-hearted about a thing like this? Because I think that now I've figured out a way to catch the fribeck gang. And all you have to do to help, Judge, is to get the governor's ear privately and arrange another audience for us with him. The governor? Chad, you know it's impossible under the, uh, well, the existing conditions. As Miss Donovan pointed out, the governor is interested in votes, votes to re-elect him. And if you'll point out to him that landing the fribeck gang in jail will get him more votes than all his election promises put together, well, I don't think he'll refuse to at least listen to us. Well, maybe so, Chad. Good. Uh, get your ear over here where I can stop yelling. I'll tell you exactly what the governor... Sir Remington, so far you haven't told the governor anything at all to make him believe you know how to or where to round up the fribeck gang. You're perfectly right, my dear. In your present position, Mr. Remington, your promises don't mean a thing. Governor, I can't blame you at all for your attitude, but if I might have a moment with you alone, I'll be only too happy to tell you what I have in mind. My dear Miss Donovan, why not step outside in the anti-room with me while the governor... Just a minute, Lois. Anything Remington has to say to me, he can certainly say in front of you. If he has anything to say. I should certainly think so. Very well. And I'm forced to admit that I have no actual plan. However, I happen to know that there's a shipment of $70,000 in gold coming into the Dos Rios State Bank tonight by train. And I'm most anxious to be on hand to make sure it gets there. Remington, the only place you're going is back to jail. You got more nerve than any one I've ever encountered. Don't you think so, Delores? Really, I don't think I should interfere in your business. And as a matter of fact, if you'll pardon me, I believe I'll go back to my hotel. But Delores... I'll talk to you in the morning. Good night, gentlemen. Well, what do you know? You were right, Chad. She actually took the bait. Naughty, you believe me, Governor. She can't wait to get to Frybeck and tell him about that. $70,000 gold shipment. So that's why she played up to me. Just to find out what was... Remington, if you're going to follow her, you'd better get going. Apparently, Frybeck is hiding not too far away from here, and we mistake no chance on losing her now. Bix, I know what I heard. $70,000. This will be a real cleanup. Vegas would pull yet, if it works. Well, of course it'll work. And with that much in our hands, we can be on our way. Just the two of us. Well, I don't have to listen to that stuffed shirt of a governor again. Look, I'll have to get the boys together. You duck out of here. Go back to your room. Pack up. And once you hear we've got the gold, check out and meet me at the cabin. Bix, now, be careful. Don't take any chances, honey. With you waiting for me at the other end. Come here. Bix, darling. All right, baby. On your way now. Papa's got work to do that just ain't gonna wait. And all that money in our gene to you and me are gonna do the world a brand. See ya. You sure will see her, Frybeck. In jail. Cherokee, come on. Remington, of all the low, slimy snakes I've ever... Dorks, duck. Oh, no, you don't. Cherokee, keep the girl covered. I'm gonna blow you up. Just out listening to the birdies. Delores, old girl, I'm sorry we spoiled you. Well, to be polite, let's call it your elopement. But you may get out about 10 years before Frybeck does. If you love him so much, you can just wait for him. You chump. Of course, I'll be glad to call on visiting days and bring you posies, Delores, my darling. Good idea, Cherokee. Since they missed that bank shipment, maybe you can send it a bunch as a golden rod. And from you and me personally, I think some forget-me-nots. All right, come on, Delores. Let's be heading for jail. It's amazing seeing that Ms. Donovan's story didn't get to the papers. Well, I didn't see where it'd serve any public purpose, now that the governor's had his eyes open. The warden said that in another few days, she'd be shipped back to Texas on extradition papers. And won't someone have to be sent back with Ms. Donovan? You know, sort of, garter? Well, yes, of course. Well, in judge, I'd like to volunteer for the job. I feel it's my duty as a public-spirited citizen. That's a job you certainly love. Hey, Cherokee, you're walking right into the arms of the sergeant of the Texas Rangers who's been looking for you the last five years. I certainly as a public-spirited Texas Ranger. The time I open my mouth, I put my foot in it. Which I might point out is a lot healthier for you in the long run than what you generally put in your mouth. And the way you talk, the judge might likely imagine I'm addicted to liquor. Oh, far from it. The only time I've known you to take a drink is when you were suffering. See there? And where do I suffer from, Cherokee? The only thing you've ever suffered from, Cherokee? First.