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Tales From The Diamond K 51-xx-xx ep11 Adventure in Maverick Valley
00:13:45
Tales From The Diamond K 51-xx-xx ep11 Adventure in Maverick Valley
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- [00:01]
A
Nearly 90% of kids who vape say flavors are why they do it.
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B
A lot of the flavors that I've heard are like peach, mango, watermelon. It makes it seem like more childlike and innocent. Oh, if I try this once, it won't be that much of a problem. But then eventually it becomes a problem.
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A
It's time to restrict the sale of flavored tobacco products in Oregon and protect our kids from nicotine addiction. Urge lawmakers to Pass Senate Bill 702A. Take action at flavorshookoregonkids.org paid for by the Campaign for Tobacco Free Kids Action Fund.
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C
Welcome to the Diamond Cay Ranch, folks. Nice to have you join us here for a little visit every day while we bring you tales from the Diamond Cay. You know, we've got a rip roaring story for you today, all about the wild woolly West. So pull up a chair and make yourself comfortable.
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D
From the tack room of Ken Maynard's Diamond K Ranch, we're bringing you stories of adventure, stories of circus life, fascinating, transcribed tales of the old west where cowboys still follow the cattle trails, stories of rodeos and parades, colorful legends of the red man, hidden gold and buried treasure. The exciting tales from the Diamond K are told by Hollywood's champion of western stars, internationally famous Ken Maynard. Well, folks, you've heard Ken's invitation to join him in the tack room along with Tarzan. And while he's getting ready to tell today's adventure, I'd like to invite you young buckaroos to visit with Ken anytime you want. I mean with Ken Maynard's Diamond K record album. That brings you a storytelling visit from Ken. Anytime you play the records on your phonograph, there's a real western treat because you get two complete stories. And the records are personalized with a message from Ken to you right on the record. He'll say hello and call you by name just like he was there with you.
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C
Like hello, Jerry, hello, Larry, Connie, or.
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D
Whatever your name is. Ken will speak to you right at the beginning of the record. And wait till you see the album. There are two big 8 inch records made of pure, expensive vinylite that's unbreakable. And both the handsome album and the records have pictures in color of Ken and Tarzan on them. Now, wouldn't you guess a treat like this would be expensive? Well, that's where you've got a surprise, because the whole wonderful album is only $1. Now, where can you beat a value like that? All you do is send your name and address to Ken Maynard in care of this Station and market Records and enclose a $1 bill. Easy. I'll say it's easy. And a whole chuck wagon full of fun, so don't delay. Send your name and address and a $1 bill to records in care of this station. Now here's Ken with today's exciting adventure.
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C
Well, sir, Folks, my story starts in a pretty little town way out in western Texas called Pecos Pass. Nestled in the heart of Maverick Valley. I spent the summer in Crystal Springs and was on my way now to help with the fall roundup over on the Lazy J, one of the largest ranches in Texas. Well, sir, I hadn't ridden but two or three days out of Crystal Springs when I began to hear stories from drifters about the strange happenings in and around Pecos Pass. Cattle rustling, ranches being burned down, families driven out into the night. That didn't sound right to me. You see, Pecos Pass had always been a peaceful little town. I'd worked most of the ranchers all up and down Maverick Valley. So I figured the drifters had gotten their stories a little mixed up. Well, it was sometime the next morning. I'd crossed Milky Wash Flat and was heading through Deep Canyon. And as I rode out into the valley, I saw it. Then I knew it was straight talk I'd heard from the drifters. There ahead of me in a smoldering heap was the remains of somebody's ranch burned to the ground. I rode closer to take a better look, but there was nothing left but the ruins. Stock was gone. Not a billing was left standing and not a living thing on the place. I swung Tarzan around to head for town. I wanted to find out what was going on. Then I heard a muffled sound behind me. Turned quickly, but there was nothing there. Then it came again, and I followed the sound through a clump of trees. Then I saw him. A little fella about six or seven years old. Trying to muffle the sobs with his hands over his face. I spoke to him, and he jumped like a scared rabbit and started to run. But I called him again, and this time he stopped. I dismounted and walked over to him. He acted like he was scared to death. I asked him his name, but he didn't answer. Just buried his face in his arms and continued to sob. I figured the little shaver was suffering from shock, so I put him on Tarzan and we headed for Pecos Pass. As we rode along the dusty road bordered by a sea of waving grass and crossed streams of cool spring water. I got to wondering about the little fellow that I Held in the saddle. Who was he? What happened to these folks? And why should anyone want to burn and kill and cause terror in the quiet, peaceful Maverick Valley? Whoever was responsible for this must have a mighty good reason to want folks out of Pecos Pass. When we rode into town, I stopped at old Dr. Jordan's. He wasn't home, so I left the boy with his wife. She took the little fellow in her arms and he started to cry like his heart would break. As I rode toward the sheriff's office, I kind of felt that she would prescribe the best medicine in the world for him. Sheriff's office had changed some since my last visit to the valley. Even the outside looked different. New paint, new sign, and the old fashioned porch had been torn down. As I opened the door and walked in, I saw three men sitting at a table. A deck of cards had been shuffled and one of them was dune. They didn't look like deputies, but then I saw a silver star pinned on each vest. Two of the men I looked at looked like ordinary hard faced cowboys. The third was a big man, thick bodied and brutish, with piggy shyness and a stubble of unshaven beard. The sheriff, a short, pudgy man with an easy grin, was sitting back on his desk. His name was Slade, Tom Slade. I didn't know him. He'd just been elected to office a few months before. We talked for a while and the conversation got around to the fires. But he just grinned and said there'd been a little trouble going on. But he was sure that he and the boys could take care of it. Then he said that someone had set fire to Campbell Ranch early that morning and that John Campbell and his wife young son had all been killed. He kept on talking, but I only half listened. It had suddenly occurred to me that I didn't know the youngster's name, that it could have been the camel ranch where I found him. Then I told the sheriff what I knew. That the boy was all right and that he was over Doc Jordan's well right then the card game was over and one by one the deputies left the office. And as the big man with the piggy eyes passed in front of me, he said something to the sheriff that I couldn't make out. Then he pointed toward the horses tied in front. The sheriff nodded his head and said, you go along. I'll catch up with you later. As the door closed, Sheriff Slade got up from his chair and crossed the room. Then he looked at me for a long time before he said, it's sort of odd stranger that you're interested in these fires. If I didn't already have an idea who's at the bottom of all this trouble, I'd be mighty suspicious of you. Well, I wanted to tell Dan McGrady, who owned the Lazy Jay, that I was in town and ready to go to work. So I started out across the valley. It was almost sundown when I rode into the ranch. I told him what I'd seen that morning. He looked at me for a minute. Then his voice got dead serious. You know, Maynard, he said, something's got to be done mighty quick. If this keeps up, there won't be a ranch left in the valley. Whoever's doing this is pretty clever. They haven't left a trace. Well, sir, I went out to the corral to unsaddle Tarzan and put him away. We'd been riding pretty hard for the past few days. I reached down to untie the cinch and noticed something on the stirrup. I hurried to the bunk house and buckled on my guns. A whistle for Tarzan as he galloped past. I reached for the horn and swung into the saddle. A few seconds later we were racing across Maverick Valley toward the little town of Pecos Pass. Well, when I stopped in front of the Jordan house, the old doc was standing on the porch. Soon as I saw him, I knew something had happened. He ran to the gates to meet me. Maynard. He yelled, the camel boy has disappeared. Now, if I should stop right here in my storytelling, it might be what you call in Hollywood a cliffhanger. That's what we call the movies where the fellow is hanging by one thread of a fraying rope with no way to save himself. Then they tell you the serial will be continued next week. But I won't make you wait. I'm going to finish my story in just a second. Now, speaking of cliffhangin, you young buckaroos are anything like I was when I was a kid. You're kind of hard on clothes. Climbing fences and trees and playing football in the back lot. Tearing around in general. In fact, I'm still hard on clothes when I'm practicing stunt riding, shooting and roping and so on. That's why I sure do take semi fancy K shirt. It's a real rough and tumble western shirt that can take a lot of wear. And when it's dirty, mom can just toss it in the suds, hang it out to dry. It doesn't need to be pressed unless she wants to. Now, if you've got a hankering for a K shirt like I wear in a comfortable cotton knit the fellow makes mine. Says he'll make one up in your size. Just tell us what size you wear. 2, 4, 6, 8, 10 or 12. Send your name and address to K Shirt in care of this station. And enclose a $1 bill because this fella isn't rich and he can't give him away. Some mighty pretty shirt, if I do say so myself. About the color of a palomino with a blazing red diamond K brand and pictures of Tarzan and me on the front. So if you want to join the gang that's wearing the diamond K brand, send your name and address your size and only a $1 bill to case shirt in care of this station. Now let's get back to the story of Maverick Valley. The little camel boy disappeared as I raced toward the center of town. I had no idea where to start to look. But I played a hunch and hid back in the shadows across from the sheriff's office. I don't know how long I'd been there waiting for something to happen. But I was about to give up and try somewhere else when I saw the big deputy with the piggy eyes and unshaven beard go into the sheriff's office then come out again with two saddlebags. He mounted his horse and started toward Deep Canyon. I followed him a safe distance behind. Must have been near morning when he stopped at a little cabin hidden from view by heavy trees and foliage. He dismounted and went inside with the saddlebags across his shoulders. I waited till all was quiet. Then I crept to the window to look in. There was the boy. He was safe. They tied him to an old chair and covered his eyes and mouth with a dirty piece of cloth so he couldn't cry out. The big man and two hard faced deputies were filling the saddlebags with dynamite. For a moment I was puzzled. Then suddenly I knew what their plans were. They weren't real deputies. They meant to stampede the cattle at the Lazy J Ranch. I'd seen it done before. I knew what would happen when 5,000 cattle ran wild through the streets of Pecos Pass. The little town would be destroyed. I knew now that I'd have to have help. I couldn't leave the boy. Then I remembered a trick I'd used once before. And it had to work now. Everything depended on it. Quickly I wrote a Note to Dan McReady, fastened us to the saddle and started tossing down the trail toward the Lazy J Ranch. I watched him till he disappeared through the pass. As I turned back to the cabin, I saw the two hard faced cowboys throw the saddlebags of dynamite across their ponies and start for Maverick Valley. Well, sir, the time had come now for action. Through the window I saw the big man start for the boy. Quickly. I reached for my gun, threw open the door as a big man turned. I saw the flash of steel, but he was seconds slow. I pressed the trigger and his gun dropped to the floor. He grabbed his wrist in pain. Well, sir, it was early morning. We rode into Pecos Pass. Crowds of people were grouped along the streets. Doc Jordan and Irish Dan McGrady were there to meet us. I handed the boy to Doc. See if you can take better care of him this time, Doc, I said. Then I turned to Dan. Where's the sheriff? Old Dan grinned and said, right where he belongs, locked up tight. When we confronted him with your evidence, he confessed everything. Then his voice boomed out, tell me, Maynard, how'd you know he wanted this land for awe? Well, I whistled for Tarzan when he trotted over. I pointed to the saddle. See them sticky black spots? That's oil rubbed off the boy's shoes. Must have been seeping through the land someplace on the camel ranch. Then old Dan chuckled and said, you know, that sheriff's slade was a pretty slick one all right. Sure had me fooled. Then Doc Jordan spoke up. Well, he might have got away with it if he hadn't gotten panicky about the boys seeing him. This young fellow couldn't identify him. Dan's mouth dropped open. What do you mean? He saw Slade, didn't he? No siree. Doc said he didn't see him the night of the fire. It was impossible. You see, the young fellow was blind. Temporarily blind from the shock.
- [12:37]
D
Jumping horn toads, Ken. That story sure had me hanging on the edge of the fence. Folks, Ken will be back in just a minute to tell you about his next exciting story on tales from the Diamond K. And while he's deciding which one it's going to be, I want to remind you, if you haven't sent in yet for your Diamond K record album, you young buckaroos are missing a real story adventure. The Diamond K record album is especially for children, filled with two action packed stories of the wild wild West. The told by Hollywood's champion of Western stars, Ken Maynard. The big 8 inch records are unbreakable, remember, of pure vinylite. Ken tells two complete stories in the album and says hello to you personally and calls you by name right on the record. Now if you kids haven't saved enough money from your allowance yet, maybe mom and dad will advance you the small sum of $1. Or you might suggest it's a swell gift for your next occasion. Yes siree. That's all it costs for this wonderful Diamond K album of records. Just send your name and address to records and care of this station and close a $1 bill. We'll bet you've never had so much fun for a dollar.
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C
Well, folks, it's time to close the tack room door again at the Diamond K Ranch. Till next time we meet, I've got another thrilling story to tell you called Broken Bridge. Till then, this is Ken Maynard and Tarzan saying so long. In the meantime, get them $1 bills in the mail for some real Western fun.
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D
You've been listening to Tales from the Diamond K, told by Ken Maynard, internationally famous cowboy and Hollywood's champion of Western stars. Tales from the Diamond K was transcribed and produced in Hollywood.
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B
Use of flavored tobacco by teens is a crisis. Tobacco companies use flavors like cotton candy, watermelon ice and cool mint to hook kids like me. They seem harmless, but they are. Addiction to nicotine sets us up for a lifetime of health problems. Organ legislators can do something about it. Politics passing Senate Bill 702A will keep flavored tobacco away from kids. But there are just a few short weeks left for lawmakers to act. Take action to protect kids like me@.
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A
Flavorshookorgankids.Org paid for by the Campaign for Tobacco Free Kids Action Fund.