 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. Howdy, friends. And in case you've forgotten, I'm Chad Remington. Frontier lawyer from the little frontier town called Dos Rios. Now, even if you didn't remember my name, I'm sure you will remember I've told you time and again that the frontier is made up of all kinds of people. Good and bad. Shrewd and... Well, I'll let you draw your own conclusions as I tell you about my most recent case. My most recent case and client. Now, I've told you before how trouble has a habit of falling into my lap. And this case started with trouble. Real trouble long before I came to hear about it. It seems that one of my fellow citizens, Chicago Eddie Doulan, who operates the Bottoms Up Bar and Entertainment Hall, wasn't satisfied just making money hand over fist. Chicago Eddie concocted a scheme to make money by the carload. Except to accomplish his purpose, he needed to own Fred Batchelor's trail's end ranch. So taking along his bodyguard and the ape of a man called Monk, Chicago Eddie rode out to Batchelor's ranch and virtually laid his cards on the table. Take it from me, Batchelor. You'd be better off climbing down from your high horse. And blame right. Besides, ain't Eddie offering you more than his crumbly old ranch of yours is worth? Yeah. And I'll even raise my offer. Make it another $2,500. You got me over a barrel, Batchelor, because I know that you know I got to have your ranch. Well, what do you got to say? One thing only. Both you slimy crooks get out of here before I blow you out. Come on, Monk. We'll be seeing you again, Batchelor. Believe me, we will. What was the idea letting that old foggy runners out of there? Well, I was arguing with a stubborn old fool like Batchelor is like trying to shout over Niagara Falls. Sure, sure, I know. But without Batchelor's ranch, you got no way controlling the water in this valley. Who said I was going to be without his ranch? Why, you just, I mean, if he don't sell it to you. Batchelor don't have to sell it to us. But when he dies, not having no kin, what's to stop us from buying it from the probate court? Yeah, what's to stop us? I mean, you're going to wait till Batchelor dies while he looks strong enough to outlive you and me together. Sure. If we're suckers enough to let him die from natural causes. Come on, Monk. I got to feel him once we ride off here. Batchelor is going to head for the sheriff's office to tell him just what happened. Yeah. Except Batchelor ain't going to get no further than the little bridge over Sheep's Head Creek because he's going to meet with an accident. It's last accident. All right, all right, boy, get up. This here is Sheep's Head Creek, Eddie. We'll rain up just behind that big spruce where we can see Batchelor when he hits the bridge. Only he won't be able to see us. Oh, there. Yeah, supposing Batchelor doesn't go to town. Then we got a long way, don't we? Yeah, and something else, boss. If they find him with slugs in his body, they may be able to hang it on... I said he was having an accident and that's just what's happening to him. That big bay stallion he rides is a pretty spirited horse. If we threw some shots around the horse, don't you think he'd spoken buck and smash through the bridge? That railing's pretty flimsy, you know. Yeah, yeah, then he'd really have it. Oh, hey, look, Eddie, here comes Batchelor now. And with the sun right behind him, what a target he makes. Come on, Monk, empty your holster. All right, Monk, he's on the bridge. Now get him. Of course, Fred Batchelor's untimely death caused quite a fewer around town. But with sudden death being almost a normal part of life on the frontier, it was soon almost forgotten. I say almost because before it could be forgotten, I was returning to town along with Cherokee O'Bannon, the former and reformed medicine man. We were following the trail high above the stagecoach road. Something wrong with you, Chad? Wrong with me? Yeah, she'd been squinting down toward the road as if something bothered you. Was I? Well, then, perhaps it's because I was trying to make out what's going on down there. Can't you see it? Seems to be about a dozen or so men digging or sawing or using some sort of tools. Well, shake my bed and call me early. You've got eyes like an eagle. Or a buzzard. What in the name of you let's assess grandly doing down there, Chad? Well, it looks like the... By golly, that's it. Remember when Lightning hit those three big ponderoses in that storm we had a few weeks back? Yes. Well, those men must work for the county. They're cutting those dead trees out of there before they fall down on a high wind and block the road. Ah, so that's what our tax money goes for, huh? Paying a lot of able-bodied men to... Billy Blue blazes, Chad, look. Doesn't it look as if they're setting dynamite down there, too? Yes, I guess having fell the trees, they're taking no chances and they're going to blow the stumps out. I know, but the afternoon stage from Gallup's due through here almost any time. By golly, you're right, Cherokee. I'd forgotten all about the stagecoach and apparently so had they. All right, come on, rattle up your pony and see if we can't get down there and tell them. Come on, you've broken down benighted bundle of buzzard bait. Run! Good Lord, Cherokee, look there. Gallup coach is coming wide open. Hey, you! You men down there! I know you're wasting your breath, Chad. The wind's against us. They can't hear you. Well, then maybe they can hear this. Well, they heard the shots, Chad. You seem to know where they came from. You fools! Don't! Don't! Ah, it's too late. There goes the dynamite. Here it comes. Did you ever see a matchbox that a bear had stepped on? Well, that's just about the way that the stagecoach looked. Except that miraculously, no one had been seriously hurt. The driver and the shotgun guard had been knocked off the box by the concussion and were only scratched and bruised from rolling around. And the only passenger, a woman of uncertain years, well, aside from her hat being awry, she was as good as new. And in her case, that's saying a lot. But more to the point, we put her aboard Cherokee's horse, riding double, and started out for town, telling the driver we'd send a crew from the coach company office to bring them back along with the baggage and mail. It was on the ride, or jog, back to town that we managed to get acquainted with the lady in question. I hope I'm not holding you too tight, Mr. Uh... Uh, the name is O'Bannon. And you are holding on too tight, man. It's a pleasure. So what, Miss Summers? Now may I make you acquainted with my friend, Mr. Remington? Howdy, ma'am. Uh, Miss... Remington! Do you happen to have any kin folk by the name of Remington, who live in New Bedford, Mass? No, I have it, Miss Summers. That is, I don't believe that I have any relatives in Massachusetts. I was born here, and my father came from Chattanooga. You were born here? Mr. Remington is not a cowboy. He happens to own a ranch. Which, may I add, was left to me by my father. But my principal vocation is the practice of law. No, you're a lawyer! I'm afraid you're several jumps ahead of me, Miss Summers. Well, this is too, too much of a coincidence just to be here. Hey, Mr. Remington. I'm coming to those reels for only one purpose, to engage a lawyer. Kismet or not, there was no getting rid of Miss Myrtle Summers. So, on arriving in town, we went immediately to my little office located on the second floor of Cherokee's livery stable. And that's about all there is to it, Mr. Remington. And you, too, Mr. O'Vannon, I certainly don't mean to leave you out. Ah, that's quite all right. One way or the other. Now, let's see if I have the facts straight. You received a telegram from the probate court notifying that you had inherited all Fred's trails and ranch. Yes. You see, my mother was a bachelor. That sounds funny, doesn't it? Understandable, notwithstanding. I guess what I should have said is my mother's father, George Bachelor, was the first cousin of Fred Bachelor who died out here and left me all of his worldly goods. And to the best of your knowledge, you're the only heir Fred had. That's what I understand. Although father always said there was a third bachelor who had gone to South Africa, but he was a black sheep. And we just didn't figure that he was a bachelor like the rest of us. Now, Chad, if you don't mind, I think I'd better go back downstairs. So goodbye, madam or miss. I'm remembering just what to call me, Mr. O'Vannon. Why don't you just call me Myrtle? Well, Cherokee, I think you'd better sit down. Miss Summers seems to be causing you to lose your composure. I might taste for female women the opposite sex, too. What did you say, Cherokee? I said make haste because there's a woman downstairs. I have to give some checks. Cherokee, the best thing for you to do is... Oh! Mr. O'Vannon, what was that? A small-sized boulder with a note attached to it. Well, the rain was good, landed right on your desk. What does it say, Chad? Well, it says... Never mind what it says. But I'm telling you this much, Miss Summers. I'm taking your case, and just as long as you stay in those rears, I'm making mighty sure that you have a bodyguard. We'll return to the second act of End of the Trail Our Exciting Frontier Town Adventure in just a few moments. And now, Frontier Town. I suppose you want to know what was in that note that landed on my desk by way of a broken pane of window glass. Well, it was short. Short and very much to the point. In words, none of which was over two syllables, it warned me that if I didn't advise Myrtle Summers to sell the ranch she'd inherited from Fred Batchelor and go on back east where she belonged, this would be the last case I ever handled. That is, until I pleaded my own case in front of the pearly gates. Well, once the stagecoach company had gotten the luggage back to town, we installed the angular and husband-hungry Myrtle in a hotel room, completely unaware that in the private office behind the bottoms-up cafe and entertainment hall, Cherokee, Myrtle, and I were the basis for a whole discussion. I don't know, Eddie. From the little I've seen of this Chad Remington, he don't scare easy, if at all. Look, Monk, we gunned down one man, arranged for a blast we thought would wreck the stagecoach and this Summers woman. And believe me, I ain't stopping there just because Chad Remington stuck his long nose into this. Okay, okay. But if Remington advises her not to tell the ranch, what are we going to do? Yeah. And besides, if either one of us are found making her a fancy offer for that trails-in ranch, someone's liable to figure out just what the action was that happened to Fred Batson. Look, well, yeah, you keep on asking questions I ain't going to be able to think. I'll figure out something, don't you worry. Right now, all I can tell you is, nobody, not even the great Chad Remington, is going to stop us from getting that ranch and controlling the water. Ten more killings. Chad, I don't care what you say. I don't care if Myrtle Summers gives her ranch away. I'm not going to play bodyguard to her. No, Nershaperone, Escort, or even Whitners. Oh, yes, you are. Oh, no, I'm not. I've seen better-looking things in Myrtle Summers when I've had the DTs. Chad, have you no heart, no friendship? I've got a lot of friendship for everyone in Dos Reyes Valley. And I'm starting to think after that note that Fred Bachelor's death wasn't the accident it appeared to be and that someone around here wants the trail's end ranch cheap. But who? What is there about Bachelor's ranch that makes it any more valuable than yours, for example? Well, just the one thing that Cherokee O'Bannon wouldn't ever know about. The one thing I... But what's that, Chad? Aquapura. Or in other words, John Barlicone Jr., water. That pond and dam on the back end of Fred's ranch virtually controls the entire water flow for 50 miles around it. Well, then why don't the people around here stop bathing? Cherokee, you're thoroughly unconvincing. And no matter how much you buck and argue, you're going to ride herd on Myrtle Summers and see that no accident happens to her. Or that someone doesn't steal that ranch away from her until such time as I can thoroughly look into the matter. But Chad, you don't know women like I do. I'm telling you that Myrtle Summers has only one interest at a man. She wants to get married. If that's what it takes to stop her from selling a ranch and ruining this whole valley, then I say it's cheap at half the price. Chad, a woman like that running a ranch. She might make a great rancher, Cherokee. Maybe she would at that. Her head is full of wide open spaces. Oh, you're most unkind. Now Myrtle has got some very good features. Now, take her teeth. Now, that won't be any trouble. I'll bet they come out. All right, then. Myrtle's got beautiful Auburn hair. Hair? Is that what that is? I thought it was just her head unraveling. Well, you got to admit that she dresses nicely. That suit she had on just matched her skin. Yeah, it certainly did. What was it? Cordura? Cherokee, you're hopeless. But you've got to do this. And if she lures you into marriage, I promise you a divorce at 50% off. Ah, you're just as stubborn as she is. Everything I say to you just goes in one hole in your head and out the other. Yep, it was a tough spot. But I won out in the end, and Cherokee went over to the hotel to escort Myrtle to supper. It was quite a tate-a-tate the way I got it. Cherokee, may I have some more co- Well, it's a matter with you, Cherokee. You're not paying any attention to me at all. I guess I was just ruminating. Penny, for you, what are you thinking about, Cherokee? Something romantic? Why should I be thinking about something romantic? Well, you're a man, aren't you? Of course. And I'm a woman, aren't I? Myrtle, I wish you wouldn't start arguments. Now, that's not very nice, Cherokee. What do you take me for, a moron, an idiot fool? Well... What's that first word again? Cherokee, oh, Benin. If you're trying to insult me, insults roll off me like water off a duck's back. Myrtle, do you seem to have something there? If you're not nice to me, I'm going to sell my ranch and go back home. Now, now, let's not do anything hasty. Well, why should I stay out here? I can sell the ranch, take the money, and live to a ripe old age. Again? That's enough. You've insulted me for the last time. Mr. O'Benin. Well, goodbye. My miserable luck will probably be meeting again. Oh! You're impossible. So she hates me, eh? Well, even though I take only an occasional drink, this seems like it might be the occasion. Oh, waiter, bring me ten occasional drinks. Bring them in a hurry! Well, I can see now that it was all my fault. Knowing Cherokee and having seen Myrtle, I should have known what would happen. But not only didn't I know what would happen with Cherokee, but I didn't know what would happen when Chicago Eddie's bodyguard monks saw Myrtle stalk out of the dining room in tears. Then she banged her way out, clumped upstairs, went to her room, and slammed the door. If you're going to make her an offer for that ranch, now's the time, Eddie. Offer nothing. Well, you mean you're a welter? No, you lunkhead, of course, none. But don't you see, if we was to make her an offer, even if she accepted it, she'd go back to Remington to have him check the papers. Yeah? Yeah, and what's more important, just like you said before, somebody just may start getting nosy about Fred Batchelor's accident. Well, so then what are you going to do? Well, you was out trailing her and O'Bannon. I cooked up an idea, a first-rate idea. That is, if she likes to gamble, and what woman who looks like Myrtle Summers don't like to gamble. You mean take her for all her cash and then have her put up the ranch for more? Yeah, you're a real bright boy, Monk. Well, crime any boss. How are you going to get her in here and get her gambling? Well, we're a bright boy like you and a dame who's crying and already sore at the world. That shouldn't be too hard. Now, now, listen to me and pay attention. Oh, okay. You go over to the hotel and go up to her room. Say, you introduce yourself to her as a member of the local businessmen's committee and tell her that we're so honored she's taken over the trails then ran. That dose-raised businessmen's committee is throwing a big shindig just for you in your honor tonight. Well, if that isn't the nicest thing. Then you'll come. Oh, it's the businessmen's committee, isn't it? You're a card, Miss Evers. Yeah, you're a card. Well, what do you say we go? Why, sir? Say, if he's not there already, do you think it'd be all right if I invited that nice man who helped me this afternoon? Mr. Remington? Oh, I... Well, I'm afraid you see, Miss Evers, this businessmen's committee is only the better class of people in town. Remington don't belong and the boys wouldn't like it if he was there. Oh, but Mr. Remington seems so nice. Oh, he ain't so bad, but that liquorhead he runs around with, old Bannon, we don't approve of either one of them. Well, I can certainly see what you mean when you mention that old Bannon. And now, if you'd be good enough to get me my glass, let's be on our way. I got a hander to you, Miss Thomas. I just can't seem to beat you. I guess I'm just the luckiest thing ever. I've won over $50 so far. With the way your luck's running, you ought to see if you can't get Eddie to raise his stakes. You'd probably end up owning the whole place. Well, I... I don't know about that. Oh, my Eddie, I'm surprised at you. I thought you were a real sport. And besides, what's a little money amongst friends? When I finally caught up with Cherokee and found out what had happened, instead of beating his brains out, I hustled him back to the hotel for an apology, a full apology. But when we got there and learned that Myrtle had left more than an hour ago, with a man whose description seemed to tally with Chicago Eddie's bodyguard, I figured it was too late. Oh, dear. Oh, dear. I just don't know what to do. Call him, Miss Summers. I'm sure he's just bluffing. Very well then. If he's bluffing, I'll call and raise another hundred. And if you had any more money left, I'd raise you right back. So seeing as how you ain't, I'll just call. Wait a minute, Eddie. Miss Summers has got a mighty good hand. And being out as much as she is right now, you ought to give her a chance to back her hand for what it's worth. You ain't got no more money. If you really want to be a good sport about it, why don't you let Miss Summers put up a deed to a ranch? That ought to be worth enough to make this game interesting. You mean you'd accept a deed to my ranch? Why, sure. If you think your hand's good for him. Oh, dear. I wish I knew what to do. What do you think I should do, Mr. Monk? What do I think? Well, here's what I think. A piece of paper and a pen. To write out that deed. Well, if you say so, what do I have to write? This. For a dollar and other valuable consideration in hand received, I herewith assign all my right title and... Hey, what's that? Monk, go see who it is. Sure thing, Eddie. I'll go. I make sure nobody but our invited guests get in. All right, Miss Summers. Just keep on writing. All my right title and interest in the land and its improvements described as... Hey, Eddie! It's Rammigan and O'Vannon! You're playing right as Rammigan and O'Vannon. We're coming in. Quick, somebody shoot out them lights! Get out of my way! Get out of my way! Rammigan, I can never, never, never thank you enough for what you've done. I feel I ought to kiss you. Kiss you both. Chad, help me. Protect me. Save me. Oh, no! Oh, Myrtle, you'd better get on that train before it pulls out without you. And I'll mail you the check for the range sale as soon as it's cleared at the bank. Well, I just hate to leave, but goodbye now. Cherokee? That's that. Pair to some nearby tavern and order a quart of alcohol and beverage. Now, wait a minute, Cherokee. You're not taking on board that much drinking liquor. Drinking liquor? Heavens to Betsy, no. What I want is a disinfectant. I didn't duck soon enough and Myrtle kissed me right on the mouth. Ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha! In Tier Town, starring Reid Hadley and featuring Wade Crosby is a Brucells production story and direction by Paul Franklin. Music written and played by Ivan Ditmars. Be sure to be with us again same time next week for another fine action adventure adventure story with your favorite young Western star Reed Hadley. And now this is Bill Foreman to tell you that Frontier Town comes to you from Hollywood.