 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. I'm Chad Remington, Frontier Lawyer. Now, a cow town lawyer doesn't get too many cases, and those he does get usually pay slowly, if at all. And that's one reason why I have my so-called offices up over the Dos Rios livery staples, which are owned by an ex-medicine man, Cherokee O'Bannon. Well, what I'm getting at is this. After the run of broken-down and non-fan clients I've had, it was a real pleasure when Dave Buckley and his mother from over in the painted horse country came to see me along with Lieutenant Colonel Harvey, supply officer for all the United States troops in our territory. Even Cherokee was impressed. Colonel, do you mind if I ask you a question? A very personal question? No, not at all, O'Bannon. What is it? You don't let braid on your sleeves genuine gold? Oh, no, no, I'm afraid not. Even if it were, Cherokee, you couldn't snip enough off it to buy a bottle of Kentucky's best. How disappointing. How very disappointing. Now, what do you say if we get down to business, huh? I gather you have a contract you want me to look over. Is that right, Dave? Well, yeah, Chad, though, maybe Mark could tell you more about it. Now, why in tarnation thunder should I do it? I spent the last 20 odd years bringing you up to learn something. From what I can see, you've done a pretty good job, Mark. In fact, that's what anyone would expect out here from a member of Ma Buckley's family. Yes, indeed. Yes, indeed. When I first met Ma, Dave here wasn't more knee-high to a grasshopper. She was selling a gallon jug of something. She made herself for six bets, five cents back on your turn to the empty bottle. Yeah, and I'm not ashamed of it. With four children there, he's a woman's got to do anything. Well, you certainly have done well, Mrs. Buckley, or else he wouldn't be here now. Not meaning to seem inquisitive, but would someone be good enough to tell me just what the nature of this contract is you want me to look over? Well, along and short of it's just this, Chad. We're entering into a contract with the Army to supply them with beef. And the contract runs three years. Well, I'd say that's a great deal, providing the price is all right. Well, the price is more than fair, Huntington. Yeah, Chad, we got no complaint at all on the price. I only catch the whole blasted contract as the money we lose if we don't deliver the cattle. Well, that's normal, Ma. The government usually puts some forfeiture clause in any contract to cover non-delivery. Is there a schedule in the contract? How many head are you supposed to deliver and at what times? I'm supposed to deliver a thousand head at once and then fifty head every two weeks for the remainder of the three years. Say, this is big business. Where are you hoping to get all that cattle, Ma? Oh, that's Dave's job. Starting the amount in business for yourself here with the first thousand head. We'll get that cattle, Chad. I've got that pretty well arranged now, with Ma's help, of course. All right. I guess you better let me have the contract. Yes, here you are, Remington. It's in Cadrupacut. Well, Chad, pursuing that legal document, Ma, tell me one thing. You still got that recipe for that wild panther juice you used to make? You will reprimand you. I'll tell you what I'll do with you, Ben. What's that, Ma? I'll trade you my recipe for drinking liquor and you'll give me your recipe for that rattlesnake oil you used to peddle. Ma'am, you're asking the impossible. I got that recipe from an old Indian. On my sacred pledge, never to reveal it. Old Indian? What old Indian? Why, a certain bull, of course, because that formula is ninety-five percent bull and if you have the misfortune to drink any of it, you'll spend the next week sitting down. That's just what I thought. You all fake. What about that contract, Chad? Is it all right? Well, it certainly seems to be, Dave, except I must warn you that if you fail to meet any of these delivery dates, not only does the contract expire, but you forfeit ten thousand dollars and ten thousand dollars is a well of a lot of money. Ah, now, we're into the worrying about that, Chad. If we can't raise it, then that'll be something for Uncle Sam to worry about. It's a funny thing. As much as a lawyer will do to protect his client, there are so many factors which, not written on paper, can blow a contract higher than a kite. And in the case of Ma and Dave Buckley, I soon learned there was one factor nobody could have thought of. Not more in a week after the contract with the army had been signed in my office, Dave Buckley, who was out rounding up cattle, suddenly saw something which caused him to rake his spurs over his pony's flanks and come racing home. Ma? Ma, where are you? No, get out, happen to you, Dave, a pack rat. Get down your boot, Top. Ma, this is awful. Awful. I was just riding up over Bald Hill, and what do you think I saw coming through that pass down below? Now, Howard Bladesy, should I know what you saw? Sheep. That's what I saw. Sheep. Thousands of the filthy great critters. Sheep? They're coming here? They must be coming in here. They're heading right this way. They ain't coming in here, baby boy. They got no right to trail their sheep through cattle country. What can we do? It is open range. Yeah, well, it's going to be closed range then. We're going to close it with ever-shot gun rifle and six gun we can lay hand to. Ma, ma, we can't. We can't take the law into our own hands. We can't, eh? Well, we got the law on our hands right now. We got that dad-blasted contract we signed with the army, and that's law too. Them sheep come through here and eat off our feed. We'll lose everything we've got. Everything I've worked more than 30 years for. Well, you do what you want. For me, I'm sending a telegram to Chad Remington. I'm not going to be shot down or see my neighbor shot down just because of a lot of no-good double-dealing sheepherders. Harold, come here. You calling me? You're going right, I called you. I look, Harold. I'm taking my horse and riding up over that hill. I want to have a look at Painted Horse Valley that's on the other side of it. Well, son, your broolings, I have seen Painted Horse Valley many times. And I tell you, there is much grass there. Some places grass almost shoulder-high. Sure, sure, I know. But now that we're this close, I want to see it myself. Now you and the boys keep them sheep moving. Understand? Yes, yes, señor. But you know, I think it is much better if you do not show yourself yet. These cattle ranch hombres, I don't know, they can smell sheep. I know my rights. Look it up, too. At their land's government land. And we don't have to take nothing from any cattle ranchers. Yes, and you'll see, but maybe you make the trouble. Well, ain't that too bad. Now look, Harold. My sheep are going to feed in Painted Horse Valley even if we have to turn that green grass red with blood before they get to it. If anything happens, well, I'm gone. Don't ask no questions. Just blast away. Maybe these grass do turn red with blood. The way you're talking, you'll have Painted Horse Valley up in arms in a range war started before summer. You doggone dad, blame right I will. No moth eating mangy sheep herders are driving sheep across my land. Don't you see, Chad, if it just ate the grass, it would be bad enough, but sheep have sharp hooves that dig up the roots and they'll take years before it grows again. Chad, isn't there something we can do without going for our guns? If your neighbors feel like your mother does, Dave, it's not. But if you'll give me a chance to go out and talk to the man who owns this sheep, well, there's just a possibility we might be able to come to terms. Terms, huh. A lot of good talking's gonna do. Ma, Ma, you've worked 30 years you said to get to the point you're at today. Now you're almost on Easy Street with a contract with the government. If you start flying off the handle and throwing lead, well, you know what I mean, Ma. The only reason I work tomorrow is so I could leave you something when I'm not here no more. I believe, Dave, if you try shooting it out, probably it's the memory of his mother. Dog gone at Ma, let me go out and talk to this man. Well, but just once, I'm not gonna have no going back and forth. Going back and forth. What's the man's name, this sheepherder fellow I mean? Well, we hear his name is Brawling. Woolly Brawling, they call him. And they say he's got a flock of 4,000 sheep he's driven clear from Arkansas. Well, come on, Cherokee. We'll start and see if we can chew the fat with Mr. Brawling. Maybe pull the buckleys fat out of the fire at the same time. When I want your advice about my sheep Remington, Alaska first, I've been tailing sheep since long before the time you was just wet behind the ears. You don't say. Well, if you try driving these sheep you've got here in the Painted Horse Valley you won't do much more driving, believe you me. I guess I know my rights. No one be hanged. If not a good, your rights are going to do you when the cattlemen start blasting their guns in your faces. You wouldn't be trying to threaten me now, would you? I don't have to threaten you. If you got a brain in your head, you'll know I'm right. If I got a brain in my head, huh? Why are you wrong like a loud mouth? That's it, Cher, now what's the one for me? If you want any more, Brawling, just get back up on your feet. No, no, no, no, wait a minute. I'm not looking for no more trouble. Now you should have thought of that before you threw that sneak punch. Look, Brawling, I came out here to try to help you, not to make trouble. I got an oil paint and you trying to help me. If you can risk losing 4,000 sheep, that's your business. I'd like to save you the loss. Save the cattlemen from getting hurt and actually save the sheep. Does anybody with even one brain in their head knows that a few sheep are good for a range country? Of course. If you'd split your flock into small branches and feed them through the country lightly, nobody'd be hurt. You could send some of your sheep into painted horse valley or a few more through Valhalla Pass and so on. If you did, I don't think even the ornery is cattlemen that bother you. You think they'd really be willing to let my sheep through that way? The cowmen don't want any trouble. They'll cooperate with you. Okay, I'll do it. I'll split them up. And if you don't mind, O'Bannon and I are going to go back and tell the ranchers the good news. Come on, Cherokee. Let's be getting up steam. Mr. Brawling, congratulations. You're a gentleman of rare intelligence. Get up there, boy. Harold. Hey, Harold. What do you want, now? I want you and the other boys to keep an eye on the flock. I'm riding up to flag and higher in every gunhand I can find. And if I can't get enough there, I'm going to Gallup and Santa Fe and Albuquerque till I get all the need. But why do you do that? Because I'm driving my 4,000-sheep-through Painted Horse Valley. Even if I have to leave a dead cowboy to mark every blasted foot, if they want war, they're going to get war until this valley is black with gun smoke. We'll return to the second act of all trails lead to trouble, our exciting Frontier Town adventure in just a few moments. So, and then, what woolly brawling planned, I went back to the Buckleys and asked Ma and Dave to see if they could arrange a meeting of all the ranchers in the vicinity. Figuring that if I could get them all together at once, I'd have a fair to middle-end chance of convincing them of what I thought I'd convinced the sheep man of. Ma, of course, was reluctant to waste any time perlavoring, and she termed it. But she finally gave in, and the meeting was arranged for the following afternoon. The meeting was chaired by Amos Churchill, the president of the local cattleman's association. All right, boys, quiet down, quiet down. I'll be blasted if I'm going to quiet down, Amos. I admit that I asked Grimman to come up here, or at least my son did, but enough's enough. He ain't making no bargains for no sheep herders for me. Well, then, what was the idea of calling this here meeting? Because I ain't no sheep herder, and I ain't no lawyer. I ain't no hire, and folks back. Chad said he wanted to put his proposition up to all of you. Well, I'd given the chance. Now that you've heard him, I'm telling you how I feel. Ma, you've got no right to do this. I've got an interest in that contract, just like you have. Sure, you've got plenty of rights, Davy, and as your mother, I've got the right to turn you over my knee and warp the daylights out of you for talking about things you don't know about. Neighbors! Neighbors! This is our range. It's up to us to keep it. If anyone tries to run any sheep across it, we dog-gone-well better be out there proving it's our range. In other words, Ma, you're insisting that the public lands are yours exclusively? How can you be so short-sighted? Don't you see, if you persist in this ridiculous and selfish notion, you'll live to regret it if you live it all? Rammington, Rammington, you're out of order. Now, you get off the platform and sit down. I've seen selfish men like you precipitate range wars before, but this time, by glory, it's going to be stopped. That's all I've got to say. Somehow or other, this has got to be stopped before you all commit suicide. Come on, Cherokee, let's get out of here. Ah, yeah, Amos. It was you who brought Rammington up here. Now, by gully, it's you who's going to have to get rid of him. No one's going to interfere with us. Let them sheep trail over on our land. And since you and Dave brought Rammington up here, the two of you better get your heads together quick. Get rid of him. Well, I don't know about that, Amos. Well, you darn well better know about that, Ma Buckley, or we'll run you and your son out of this valley right along with them sheep. All right, boys. That's all this meeting stands adjourned. Well, I certainly talk tough and positive, but you can take it from me or we'll see you bluff. How anyone could stop those stock men from waging their age-old battle with their sheepherders or something even a cow-town lawyer didn't know. However, my pessimism changed to optimism later that afternoon when young Dave Buckley rusted me out and told me Ma wanted to see me out at their place that evening. It certainly sounded as if the old matriarch was either going to capitulate or compromise somehow or other. But no one that no cases won until the jury's back in the courtroom, I sunk Cherokee heels over leather on an errand. And like a doomed man, I had the proverbial big meal at the Merchants and Drovers Hotel before riding out for my somewhat mysterious meeting with Ma Buckley. And the moon was a thin golden cemetery in the sky as I pulled up at the ranch house. It was a perfect evening except for the faint smell of sheep on the wind. Boy, hold on. Well, it's you, Chad. What's wrong with you, Dave? You act as if I'm not welcome. You're not, particularly. Come on. Come on in. I didn't expect you to freeze up on me, Dave. Your mother, well, that's a different story. I don't mean it that way, Chad. Come on. Ma's back in the parlor. Hey, Ma, Chaz here. Well, don't stand there. Come on in. Well, Ma, did you change your mind? Come down, Chad. Good Chad, Chad, Dave. Here you are, Chad. Thank you. It's soft and dark in here. Why don't you light a lamp or something? We, uh... we got our reasons, ain't we, Ma? Yeah, we got our reasons right now. And the principal reason is this. Cheapers. Ma, the way you hit him, you could have hurt him real bad. I didn't do him no good. I don't want any more to a head than raise a lump on it. What are we going to do with him now? Time up, that's what. He's sure going to be sore when he comes to. What are you, anyhow? Man or a peeling baby? Painted Horse Valley is our home, Dave. Whether Chad Remington likes it or not, we're going to protect it. Nice people, my clients. But knowing Ma Buckley, how hard she'd worked all her days, how much she wanted to leave something to Dave, so he wouldn't have to go through the agony and grief which had marked her life, I can't be too bitter. Although, at the time, I was bitter almost to the point of hatred. Maybe, as Ma said, a piece of stove would never did any permanent harm, but it laid me out cold for hours. While I was still vaguely drifting around on some distant cloud, Cherokee returned from the errand that sent him on. Unable to locate me, headed from town out to the Buckley's Place, found enough dust along the trail. Chad certainly must be talking to school head-off. He's out of the Buckleys this long. Born three hours. Wait a minute. Go down. Whoa, there's someone coming. Hello there, mind of foot. Well, it's Ma and Dave Buckley. Who's that? Who's that? Me, Cherokee O'Bannon. What are you doing out this time of night, O'Bannon? Well, I might ask you two the same question. But at the same time, I'm out looking for Chad. Where is he now? Chad? Why? How should we know where he is? He had an appointment out at your place at 10 o'clock, didn't he? Yeah, yeah, sure, but he didn't stay more than 10 minutes did he, Ma. That was 10 minutes too long. It's a good thing we run into you, O'Bannon. Save you a long ride. Go back to town now. Yes, he's not out at your place. Might as well. What have you got there, a whole arsenal? You're both armed to the teeth. I was you, O'Bannon. I didn't ask so many questions. I blaze as I wager. I know what you're up to. Despite all Chad's done to try to save you, you're out trying to start a fight with them cheap men, aren't you? You're too smart for your own good, O'Bannon. Come on. You're coming along with us. Now, just a minute, madam. Dave, take his gun. Sure, Ma, I'll get it. Get up there, you old... Ma! Ma, he's getting away! You won't get far. I'll knock that poor, flesh and medicine man right off. Ma, don't! Don't! Don't let go of that rival there, Dave. It's all blasted. Ma, it's better enough. I heard us without shooting a friend behind his back. There. There. That's better. Yeah. At least you're right at that. I was just afraid he'd find Chad. Out in the barn? Fine. Chance tied up and all covered with hay. Come on, Ma. Mr. Churchill and the others will be waiting for us. We're going to catch them cheap men napping. We're going to have to do it before sunup. Well, all this was happening. I finally came back to life, trust like a turkey and covered with hay in the Buckleys' barn. I couldn't figure out any way of getting loose until wriggling around. I found I... I could make my fingers reach some matches in my pocket. I guess I got the idea from something I'd read, but I figured if I could strike a match or two and hold the flame under my ropes, I could burn them loose. And I managed to get hold of three matches. I struck one, held it just under my left wrist, and the next thing I knew, the hay was on fire. Smart lawyer, hay. Trust up like a suck-one pig on a barbecue and just about as hot. I thrashed around, tried everything I could, but the only thing I succeeded in doing was spreading the flames. Oh, my goose was cooking. So was I when the barn door opened and Cherokee rushed in. Dad, dad, you in here? Cherokee, get out that boy knife for yours. Come on, I'm tied up. You're almost burned up. We've got to get out of here. Cherokee, if you're sure of what you think you saw, we're in for it. Well, then we're in for it because those cow-headed ranchers have cut down trees and barricaded the past. Made a blast of porters out of this valley. Good grief, Cherokee. They've started from the number of gun flashes I see those sheepmen have got them out Keep going there, boy, keep going. Hey, Cherokee, look. Look, there's someone coming, riding away from there. Slow, pal, hold, hold on. Hold it! Rain up! Who's that? Yeah, is that you, Remington? Well, he blew blazes, Chad. This is Mr. Churchill, the man who ran you out of the meeting. It's awful down there. Five men shot already and I was going to see if I'd get some help. They must outnumber us 10 to one. Hey, hey, that bugle, what's that? Chad, the colonel was as good as his word. They got here, they got here. Who got here? The United States Army, that's who. I sent Cherokee over to see the colonel early this afternoon. Since they bought all this beef, they've got an interest in this valley, too. Come on, boys, we can still get him for the wind-up. I guess there's no way you're rightly telling you how I feel over what we've done to you after all you've done for us. You don't have to apologize, Ma. Just so long as you've learned your lesson that the West and the open range doesn't all belong to you. I think most of Ma's honoriness leaked out through the hole that sheep-herder's bullet put through her arm, Mama. Yeah, I'm sure he ain't got my back up now. Then, Madam, may Dr. O'Bannon prescribe a dose of his genuine Cherokee and in round-of-snake oil taken just before meals? I guess so happens that I haven't bottled with them. I'll be very happy to sell you a reduced price of genuine bargain. Pay cash for that hogwash? No, but I'll tell you what I'll do. So happens that I just have one bottle of that stuff. I use it. Trading for that stuff? Not in your tin time. What's happened to you, Cherokee? Turning down a deal like that. Well, I'll tell you, Chad, what's all Nindu who drank Ma's stuff and bleached him out like an alfino? You don't expect us to believe that one, do you, Cherokee? Well, that's impossible. Impossible? What's impossible about a red skin and biving and some red eye and turning pale? Why, even a school kid knows the answer to that one. It's an old copybook, Maxim. Two reds. Don't make a wife. Now, starring Tex Chandler and featuring Wade Crosby is a Brucell's production. Story in Direction by Paul Franklin. Music written and played by Ivan Ditman. Be sure to be with us again same time next week for another fine action adventure story with your favorite young western star, Tex Chandler. And now this is Bill Foreman telling you that Frontier Town came to you from Hollywood.