Andrew Rines / OTR Westerns Host (3:08)
Around Dodge City and in the territory on west, there's just one way to handle the killers and the spoilers, and that's with a U.S. marshal and the smell of gun smoke. Gun Smoke. Starring William Conrad. The story of violence that moved west with young America. The story of a man who moved with it. Matt Dillon, United States Marshal. Howdy, Marshall. Hello, Mr. Biggs. Can I give you a hand? No, no. This is the last match here. Hey, wait till the flies get to these buffalo hides in the morning. Be enough vultures overhead to keep the place in the shade for weeks. Yeah. You know, you'll sure have your hands full by tomorrow night. It looks that way. Don't these boys turn them hides into cash? They'll bite the corks out of every bottle in town. And some of them look mean enough sober. Yeah. Well, you better bed down and get some sleep. Mr. Biggs. Where are your boys? I know Jeff had some trouble with the dry axle up near Pawnee Rock, and Boaz stopped to help him fix it. But he shouldn't be this long behind me. Well, if I see him, I'll tell him where to find him. You can tell Jeff Boaz ain't even gonna hear you. Why, what's the matter with him? Oh, he's riding higher than an eagle. You know that white buffalo you've been hearing about, the albino? Why, it's just Indian talk. I think so, huh? Well, if it is, Boaz, sure shot himself a mighty scared buffalo. White is borax. That ought to fetch a price. Hey, anybody seen Marshall Dillon? Over here, Chester. You better saddle up, Mr. Dillon. What's the matter, Chester? Indian trouble. Two men dead and a couple of wagons burned up out there. I found this. A war rattle made out of buffalo toads. Arapahoe. Well, they haven't been making any trouble. Well, these did. I was topping a hill when I saw the wagons go up and fire. It was Indians, all right. I saw one ride off. That's funny. I never heard of Arapahoes attacking at night. How far out? 10 mile, maybe, toward Pawnee Rock. Pawnee Rock? Marshall, my sons is coming from there. Easy Mr. Crazy. Lots of wagons, Marshall. I didn't see another wagon between here and Pawnee. Except the ones we had with the Indians killed my boy. There's only one way to make sure, Mr. Big. Saddle up and ride over to my office. I'll be with you as soon as I can get my horse. I cut back through those button willows over there when I spotted the wagons being fired. We must be close to it then. Just over there. Right down yonder. See him? Yeah, I see him. We rode up and dismounted. The last glint of Hope and Mr. Big's eyes died. His boys were there, all right. And it wasn't nice to see Kill him. I'll get him first. I'll murder every redskin in the territory. We got to bring your sons in, Mr. Biggs. You know what the morning's going to be like. You don't want to leave them out here. Now, come on. Hey, look down there by the stream. Yeah, four of them. They're not saddle horses, Mr. Biggs. Mr. Biggs. You recognize those horses down there? Yeah, I know. Teams belong to Boaz and Jeff. Indians must cut them loose from the wagons before they fired. Doesn't that seem curious to you, Chester? In what way, Mr. Dillon? Why didn't they take the horses with them? Yeah, what are you thinking, Marshall? No burned hides in those wagons. So they stole them. Yeah, they stole them. But Boaz and Jeff both have their rifles there beside them. And the horses are left behind, too. Horses and guns are the first things Indians would go for. What are you looking for, Mr. Dillon? Those buffalo hides weren't carried off without wagons here. Mark's the two other wagons here, and they're fresh. I didn't see any other wagons. Only these. They'd finish and gone before you got here, Chester. Oh, yeah, but I. I'd have caught up to any wagons on the trail to Dodge. Did you go by regular trail? Well, no, I. I figured the Indian I saw wasn't alone. I didn't want to get bushwhacked further on. You didn't see any Indian, Chester. But, Mr. Dillon, just as plain, no Indian would leave guns and horses. This job was done by white men. It didn't take anything that could be recognized or identified. You mean if somebody's in Dodge by now with the hides my boys worked and sweated to get? I'm afraid so, Mr. Biggs. There'd be more than 300 buffalo hunters there by morning. Could be any of them. We'll find the right one. Oh? How? The albino. Whoever killed your Sons will have that white buffalo hide. It was almost sun up when we got back to town and more wagons had jammed the main street lining up for the unloading barns. I rode down the line looking them over one by one. Sorry, Marshall. Some of the men had take their money, drink it up and drift away. Few would stay long enough to be buried on Boot Hill. Then suddenly a wagon driver up ahead pulled out of lines. You get back to your place. All right, I'll wait. Now let go of that bit. M. Don't do that, stranger. Get your hand away from that gun. Well, now, knows any law around you there is. So don't try making your own. You got no right grabbing my team. I got plenty right when it starts. Horn in in front of me. Marshall. That's a lie. Marshall. He cut. Never mind. You both want to cool your heads out in jail now. What's your name? Tennessee is good enough. A lot of people from Tennessee coming into the territory. Most of them are pretty peaceful. It sounds like you're saying. I'm not. You move pretty fast for that gun. Man can lose his temper. You lost yours four times according to the notches you've carved into that gun butt. But don't try for number five. Not here. How about you? What do you call Charlie? Kill Charlie Kell, huh? They ever call you Chuck? No. Heard of a Chuck Kell a couple of years back. Come from Kentucky? Not me. Man I heard about was a gunfighter, so he never wore gloves. See? You don't either. It's pretty rough on the hands. Thanks, Marsha. I'll make sure to take better care of him. Yeah, do that. I'll be around a while, Marshall. Maybe we can have another talk. Anytime. They'd need watching. But what I wanted now was a white buffalo hide. Searching the wagons wouldn't do. There wasn't time. And the search had let the killers know that something in the hides they'd stolen could be identified. The time to find out would be when the buyers checked them. I got Biggs and Chester to cover two of the unloading barns, and I covered the third one. Then finally daylight came and the haglin started. You want to sell those hides and learn how to handle his skin and knife a little better? They're as good as any. Not full of holes. They ain't give you $4 a hide for the bunch you gave that last couple of eight? He looks tougher than you. Six. I'll take six. Four. Take it or leave it. You think you can rob me, mister? Watch your mouth, Poirier. Here. None of that. Let me go. Easy, son. Let me have my gun. Just so you won't be tempted. There. That's better. Give me that. Give it back. You can pick it up at my office whenever you're ready to leave town. You look like a city boy to me. Where you from? St. Louis. None of your business. When something's got you beat, son, there's no shame to admitting it. And going home. Sometimes that takes a real man. Don't tell me what to do. Why don't you watch your own job? Why don't you leave me alone, Marshall? I ain't got a white buffalo hide. What'd you say, boy? You heard me. What do you know about a white buffalo hide? What everybody else knows. That you're looking for one. Everybody in town knows it. How? Because the old man whose sons were bushwhacked is all liquored up over at the other barn, shooting off his mouth. Don't go away mad, Marshall. Mr. Biggs wasn't at the barn where I'd left him. I cut through an alley to Front street and headed for the saloons. I never got to him. Mr. Dillon. Mr. Dillon. What's the matter, Chester? Old man Biggs, where is he? I'm looking for him. Well, he. He was over by the barn. I was watching. Drunk going through the wagon. Yeah, I know about that. I was trying to get him to go back to his own barn, but all of a sudden he took off. For where? I don't know. But there was one wagon he was watching in particular. The driver walked away from it with a package of some kind. That white hide? It could have been, I don't know, but Big Shore thought so. He lit out after a fellow with blood in his eye. Which way? Down there, where the boy's been hitching the empty wagon. Well, let's go. Old boy's drunk enough to make trouble. He's liable to kill somebody or get killed. Too late, Mr. Dillon. Yeah, it came from there, behind that row of wagons. You stay here, chester. Be careful, Mr. Dillon. When I rounded the corner wagon, Mr. Biggs was sprawled across a wagon, tongue his eyes dead and open, staring at the ground. And standing over him was Tennessee, a smile on his face and his gun extended to me butt first. Looks like I'm in the mighty trouble, Marshall. He's dead, Tennessee. That's more than a mite. You take my gun for a while. You mean until after you hang? Wasn't figuring it'd be that serious. Not when a drunk follows me out here and Throws down on me. If you're figuring on self defense, forget it. Look at his gun. It isn't even caught. Well, it's out of his holster. Marshall. That's enough. Law. Don't say I have to wait till he kills me. You'll have to make a jury believe that. No, you shouldn't have much trouble doing that, Marshall. What are you doing here, Mr. Kell? Oh, I just happened to follow Tennessee out here. Why? Well, you broke up our little argument in town. Thought I'd get him alone here. See if maybe he was still nursing a grudge he wanted to settle. But the old man beat me to it. Now, Tennessee here ain't exactly a friend of mine, as you know. But I hate to see any man hang when he ain't guilty. Is that your personal verdict, mister? Kill? That's right, Marshall. The old man threw down on him and Tennessee had to kill him in self defense. Chester. Yes, sir, Mr. Dillon. Which one of them had the package? Listen, this the fellow the old man was after. All right, Tennessee, where is it? I don't know anything about a package. Look in the wagon, Chester. See anything? Nothing here. I reckon you can give my gun back to me now. All right, Tennessee. Here. Thanks. But if you decide to use it again while you're in Dodge or any place else in Kansas, I hope I'm there when you do. Well, now, don't you fret, Marshall. I'm sure you will be. We will return for the second act of gun Smoke in just a moment. But first, action. Excitement, thrills. That's Gangbusters. Gangbusters helps to fight crime by fearlessly naming the criminals. Listen for it later this evening on CBS Radio. Now the second act of gun smoke. Just before sundown, we buried old man Biggs and his two sons up on Boot Hill. By the time the service was over and I rode down, darkness had fallen and everything was going full blast. The town was roaring. Seemed like a good man, old Big. He was, Chester. So were his boys. But there are too many men like Tennessee and Cal Coming in, Mr. Dillon. They won't last, Chester. They'll keep coming, but they won't last. They'll take a gun and go against a man, but they won't sweat. They won't take root and build. We still gonna look for that hind? Yeah. Just what do you want me to do, Mr. Dillon? Tennessee and Kell will be in town, but their wagons are back there with the other empties. Ride back and look them over. Well, they might have had somebody carry that package. Off for them you might be, but they don't seem like partners, Mr. Dillon. From what I heard, you stopped them from gun fighting. Took more than one man to kill the Biggs boys. And more than one man and more in one wagon to cart the hides in. Well, you mean they staged that trouble just for you? Just for me. After they heard I was looking for that white hide. Well, why do you figure that, Mr. Dillon? When gunfighters start for their guns, nothing stops them. Chester, they both started, but they both stopped. I reckon you better take a look through those wagons. Yes, Mr. Dillon. Where'll I meet you? I'll be checking the saloons. One by one. I made the stops along Branch, the Alanza, the Texas Trail. And one by one, they got through quieters. I went in as though each place is holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. The last place was a Mexican hangout. A long, dark walk. Hello, Marshal. Can't see me, can you, Marshal? No. No, I can't see you, son. Too bad. Cause I got another gun. They sell them around here. And I ain't going back to St. Louis. You'll fire once, son. And if you don't, kill me with that and I'll kill you. Kill you. I'll gamble on that. Marshall. Marshal. He lurched from the shadows into the street. Staggered and fell. Then he rolled over on his back and his eyes struggled for a minute like they were trying to remember something. Then he went blank. Haley is right about one thing. He wasn't going back to St. Louis. Well, what do you know? The marshal's real handy with a gun. Stay out of this, Kel. But I may have something to talk over with you later. Mean what? You don't know. Then you got nothing to worry about. I've been hearing a lot about how fast you are with a gun, Dylan. Anything to it, I'm still alive. Yeah. This your hobby? Shooting kids? He was old enough to try to kill me. I don't like it, Marshall. That's too bad, Mr. Kelp. The Chuck Kell I heard about would have loved it. They said he'd killed two kids under 16. One of them his own brother. You didn't hear the whole story, Marshall. The Kell you heard about killed a marshal, too. You made the bid, Mr. Kell, and you got a gun. Use it or I'll take it away from you. Come and get it. Anytime. Here it is. How you feeling, Mr. Dylan? I'm all right, Chester. Doc fixed your head. Wasn't much he could do for Kelvin. I hit him if you didn't he? Sure died for nothing. He was fast, all right. Boys say you made him look like a sleepy burro. Never even cleared his holster. And my head says different. You didn't get that from Cal. What do you mean? Tennessee was up the street with a rifle. He creased you, huh? Where is he now? I don't know, Mr. Dillon. He rode out of town before I could stop him. I was the only one who saw him. I was coming up street to find you. All right, let's get out of here. Did you find anything in the wagons? No, sir. But I found Tennessee's wife. Wife? That's right, Mr. Dillon. In a small wagon next to his. He's a squaw man. His wife's an Indian girl. Let's find her. All right, Chester, which way? Edge of town, Mr. Dylan. Well, let's go. You talked to the wife? Yes, sir. Found out Tennessee and Kell were friends, all right. They left her here night before last. There ain't some even her here today. She said they were driving empty wagons when they left her. Ask her what tribe she belonged to. Didn't have to ask, Mr. Dylan. I could tell by her beads. She's an Arapahoe. She was there, all right, crouched by the wheel of a wagon. Her face was bloody and she stared into a small campfire, rocking back and forth without a sound. She wasn't beat up when I left her. Mr. Dillon, where's your husband? He gone. Gone where he gone. Tell me which way he went and I'll bring him back to you. No, you love man. Your husband had a white buffalo hide, didn't he? Tell me no other man killed white buffalo. Then your husband took the hide away from him. He buy. He buy hide? He didn't buy him. He killed two men to get him. He killed with Indian paint on his face. He left an Arapaho war rattle. He wants the blame to come to your people. If the white men think the Arapahoes are on the war path, the soldiers will come. No Arapaho peaceful. Where's the white hide? What'd your husband do with it? He tell me. Buried. Where? Where is it? Buried there. Back there by tree. Go dig it up, Chester. Then stay with her till I get back. You going after him, Mr. Dillon? As soon as she tells me which way. All right, Mr. Dillon. You're white man no good. Now tell me which way you went. You let him go. He not come back. I can't let him go. If I do, the soldiers will come after your people. He beat You. And he ran away from you. Now he'll bring death to your tribe unless I get him. Where did he go? He. He arrived to my moon sleep. I rode east. Tennessee had had about an hour start, but I figured to make up most of that before sunrise. The prairie was open and flat, except for an occasional roll. And the Arkansas river would keep him from cutting south. His best bet for a fresh horse would be Kinsley. And I rode hard for was just turning daylight when I rode in. Well, howdy, Marshall. Morning. Good morning. Got a place I can water my horse? Draw up right there. Just let him loose. He'll find it. Thank you. Looks like you come a long way, Dodge. Another fella here just a few minutes ago. Been riding hard, too. He come from up horny way, though. Tall, dark, riding a vinegar roll. Yeah, that's right. You get a fresh horse here? Had to send my boy out to corral to get one for him. He'll be back soon. You mean he's still here in town? Yeah. Asked about breakfast, so I sent him over to the Widder Hilliard's place right over there across the road. Thank you. I'll be back. Say, you after that fellow Marshall? Yes. Understand you're serving breakfast, ma'? Am. I. Sure thing. Marshall Dylan. That's right. Give me a clear way out the door or I'll kill you. Come by me, Tennessee. I'll come shooting. That's all right. But just be sure you get me this time. You hurt, ma'? Am? No, I'm all right. Marshall. He looks kind of dead. Yeah. Bad one. Yes. Gunfighter, Thief. Killer. What's your name? Marshall Dylan, man. Matt Dillon. I. I'm sorry about Marshall. When my husband brought me out here 15 years ago, Indians burned this place down three times. I'm used to killing. You want to carry him out? I'll go fix you that breakfast. Thank you, ma'. Am. It's a long ride back to Dutch. Gun smoke. Transcribed under the direction of Norman McDonnell stars William Conrad as Matt Dillon, U.S. marshal. Tonight's story was specially written for Gunsmoke by Joel Murcuth, with music composed and conducted by Rex Corey. Featured in tonight's cast were Stan Waxman, John Danar and Larry Dobkin. With Sam Edwards Zulianba, Tom Holland and Mary Lansing. Barley Baer is Chester. Join us again next week as Matt Dillon, U.S. marshal, fights to bring law and order out of the wild violence of the West. In Gun Smok. Something new in CBS radio newsroom coverage. World News with Robert Trout presents as a special weekly feature an interview with the crack CBS Radio News correspondent. This correspondent flies in from his post overseas to give you his authoritative eyewitness viewpoint on latest developments tomorrow afternoon on most of these same stations, World News with Robert Trout. This is Clarence Cassell speaking. And remember, from now to November you will find intensive impartial campaign governance bridge on the CBS Radio Network. Sam,
