The Bakers of Weber's Bread presents your all-star Western theater. Rifting along singing a song under a western moon. From Hollywood comes your all-star Western theater starring America's great Western singers, Poy Willing and the Riders of the Purple Sage, who play host to the star of rodeos from Cheyenne to Phoenix, Monte Montana. But now, the Riders of the Purple Sage. Cimarron roll on to my lonely song. Carry me away from the skies of grey. Though I'm feeling blue, I roll on with you. To the ocean blue, Cimarron roll on. Though I'm feeling blue, I roll on with you. To the ocean blue, Cimarron roll on. Poy Willing, it seems to me this is the place you wanted to put in a word or two. Oh, that's right, Terry. There's not only lively action in our Western songs, but romance and tenderness, too. I'm thinking of one that started in Missouri and spread not only through the West, but all over the world. The song is well known to the young folks of today, as it was to their grand folks. It's been Missouri Waltz, and we'd like to sing it for you now. Hush-a-bye, my baby, slumber time is coming soon. Rest your head upon my breast while manny hums a tune. The sandman is calling where shadows are falling. While the soft breezes sigh as in days long gone by. Way down in Missouri where I heard this melody. When I was a little one upon my mammy's name. The old folks were humming, their banjos were strumming. So sweet and low. Way down in Missouri where I heard this melody. When I was a little one upon my mammy's name. The old folks were humming, their banjos were strumming. So sweet and low. In the early days of the West, thousands of head of cattle roamed the open range, and the cop hunters were busy gents. Their work was not so easy. In the early days of the West, thousands of head of cattle roamed the open range, and the cop hunters were busy gents. Their work was hard, the hours spent in the saddle were long, and for the most part their pay was small. But most of them didn't mind as long as the foreman was congenial and the food at the ranch house good. Today, most westerners are still congenial and they still like good food. And that's one of the reasons why Weber's bread is so popular throughout Southern California. It's good bread, it's well mixed and well baked. And its golden brown crust, firm even texture and distinctive flavor make it equally good for morning toast, noonday sandwiches and evening dinner. Yes, that good Weber's bread really hits the spot. Buy Weber's bread the next time you go marketing. The entire family will like it because Weber's bread is good bread. Look for it in the familiar Blue Gingham wrapper. When you talk about the West, you can't help but think of the colorful cowboy riding the wallows and gullies of a desert trail. Here he is, that tall, rangy figure in high heel boots, blue Levi's and a ten gallon hat. Ragtime Cowboy Joe. Cowboy, cowboy, ragtime cowboy joe. Out in Arizona where the bad men are, only thing to guide you is an evening star. Ruffus, toughus, man by far is ragtime cowboy joe. Got his name from singing to the cows and sheep, every night to say sing to her to sleep. In a fast, old, rich and deep, crude and soft and low. He always sings raggy music to the cattle as he swings, back and forth in a saddle on a horse. That is incubated, gated, and he's such a funny meter to the roar of his repeater, how they run. Glad to hear the bell's gun because the Western folks all know. He's a highfalutin' rootin' tootin' son of a gun from Arizona, ragtime cowboy joe. He's a highfalutin' rootin' tootin' son of a gun from Arizona, ragtime cowboy joe. Ragtime cowboy joe. Terry, while I round up Monty Montana and the actors for our story of the West, why don't you step up and introduce our next song? Why sure, Foy. Folks, the writers of The Purple Sage bring you a song which, while not a part of the West, is beginning to be heard wherever folks like good music. So here it is, one of the top tunes of the day. I wonder, I wonder, I wonder. Oh, by myself alone at home I'm feelin' blue. Thoughts keep roamin' through my mind, they're all of you. I wonder if you're dancing with somebody new. I wonder, I wonder, can't help it if I wonder. No matter which side of the pillow that I'm sleepin' on, my dreams of you continue through until the dawn. And after that I find the daydream true comes on. I wonder, I wonder, can't help it if I wonder. You care for someone else, I see. Well then, it's quite all right with me. I'm gonna get me dressed up in my Sunday suit and find myself somebody who is twice as cute. And when you realize that you and I are through, I wonder, I wonder, I wonder what you'll do. I wonder, I wonder, can't help it if I wonder. You care for someone else, I see. Well then, it's quite all right with me. I'm gonna get me dressed up in my Sunday suit and find myself somebody who is twice as cute. And when you realize that you and I are through, I wonder, I wonder, I wonder what you'll do. I wonder, I wonder, I wonder what you'll do. It's time now for Foy Willing and the writers of The Purple Sage to tell another story of the West. Our guest star, Monty Montana, joins them in enacting a play that's called Joy. Out of the drowsy heat of a desert that slumbers in the noonday sun comes the song of the men who love the West, the song of the writers of The Purple Sage as they follow the narrow trail that leads from the Big Bend country into the sleepy little town of Barstow, Texas. Barstow isn't much of a town, is it, Foy? Well, not as towns go. But there's a place down the street where you can get a man-sized steak. How about it, Johnny? Steak? That's what I want, with onions and potatoes. Hey, up there ahead, in front of the bank, gun place. Hey, look at those two armors, high-tilling out of town. Looks like they're making a getaway. What are we waiting for? Come on. Down the single sun-baked street of Barstow, Texas, gallop the writers of The Purple Sage. For a bank has been held up, and trouble again rides roughshod over the Big Bend country of West Texas. Hey, look, Foy, in the back of the bank, somebody's hurt. Come on, let's try to get through. Stand back, everybody. Don't go around. Get up through. What happened, mister? I caught some lead. I'll be okay. You with the bank here? Yeah. I'm Dan Russell Cashier. Who are you? I'm Foy Willing. Who shot you? A couple of men spin. I handed them close to $2,000. And a kid let out a yell from the doorway. Pulled my gun just as they were leaving, but they got me first. One side, folks. Let the doc through. Here's the man who's hurt, Doc. Well, what do you know? I'm Foy Willing. Marty Montana, you old hyena. Hey, slowy, Johnny, look who's here. Well, hi, I'm Marty. Hello, boys. Howdy, howdy. How'd you get in this part of the country, Marty? Well, I was riding through on my way to the rodeo at Takis tomorrow, and I stopped here to cash a check. You saw what happened? Yeah, I was about to go into the bank when some kid ups and hollers, and the next thing I know, two buzzards with masks come out of shooting. Well, what about this kid who yelled? Well, I'd say he's about 12 years old. He's sort of crippled bad in one leg. And I asked some woman there who he might be. What'd she say? Said the only boy with a crippled leg is a Peyton boy. Seems like they got a farm between here and Takis. Well, a crippled kid was mixed up with a bank hold up in Toyah last week. You know, Marty, I believe we'd better pay a visit to the Peyton farm. Okay, let's go. Well, if this farm don't beat all, look at that scrubby corn burned up before it's knee-high to a grasshopper. Yeah, just about the poorest outfit I ever saw. Hey, there's a kid now with a woman. Looks like the one, all right. Come on. All right. Howdy, ma'am. This your farm? Yes, such as it is. That's yours. Where on my stand you're riding, mister? Glad you like him, son. I got a pink. Bet I run near as fast as yours. Do you ride him? Do I? You think I can't ride because of my leg, don't you? Land sakes. Joy's and I is as surprised as any other youngster. Too bad about that leg, though. He got hurt in a shaft my husband dug in that mountain. The cave in that crushed Joy's leg killed his father. Well, that's tough luck. That's your last six-root here packing, mister. Near as good as the one Trace Sanders wears. Trace Sanders? Yep. He's my partner. He's a lucky kid there, son. Shucks, he's no kid. He's a real man. When the bank was going to take our farm, he ups and pays him $500. He does. That's enough, Joy. Joy's trying to tell you that Trace paid up that note. Oh. Uh, Joy? Were you the boy who was standing in the door of the bank in Barstow about two hours ago? The man's asking you a question, Joy. Answer it. Yeah, I was there. And you were in the bank in Talia about a week ago? Yeah, I guess so. Then you saw him holding up both banks? Yeah, I did. Joy, you never told me a word of this. You didn't ask, ma. Joy, did you warn the bank robbers when someone was about to enter the bank? Sure. Nothing wrong with that, is there? Trace, he says banks are only made to take land away from poor folks like us. Was Trace one of the robbers, Joy? You shouldn't have asked me that, mister. Joy, whoever made you do such a thing, you tell me this instant. Sorry, ma. I wouldn't go telling on a partner. Not even to you. We didn't do nothing wrong. It's fun watching them take money away from banks, because they take it away from people like you. Mrs. Peyton, if I were you, I'd be giving Joy a lesson in banking. This Trace Saunders, does he live in Barstow? Yes, but I don't know who he is. Okay, fellas, let's get going. But boy, the kid hasn't told us who he's covering. No, and he won't either. I guess not. But there's a certain party in Barstow who might be able to tell us something. Let's go. Come on, Slowy, Yanny. They tell me that's Trace at the end of the bar. You coming, Marty? Yeah, I'll be with you in a minute. You Trace Saunders? Huh? Yeah, but I can't say I know you. Well, forget about me, and let's talk about Joey Peyton. I reckon I know him. Uh-huh. You must be holding a lot of notes to be forgetting names. What note? The one that's on the bar. The one that's on the bar. You must be holding a lot of notes to be forgetting names. What note? The one you paid off at the bank against Joey's mall. Mrs. Peyton. Oh, yeah. The fact is a clean forget. Yeah, yeah, Joey's her boy. Of course, now I'm not dealing with his mall. That's funny. I heard they were mostly with Joey. I better start hearing yourself in a heap of misery. Meaning what? Meaning you're asking too many questions. You're too all-fart curious about the boy. Not the boy. It's about the man who'd teach a boy that banks are made only to take money away from poor folks. Eh? So Joey's been talking, huh? Now that his mall knows where he was this morning and last week, maybe Joey'll tell... Stranger, you know, I don't like you or your questions. The feeling's mutual, but the question stays in. Ah? Well, I'd talk better with this. Boy, watch out. He's got the drop on you. Ah. I get kind of nervous in front of strangers. I ask questions. I'll be taking that gun, mister. Good boy, Monty. I saw you sneaking up, Monty, but I was scared this barman would hear you. I wondered why you stayed behind. I always figure it's best not to pack all your grub in one chuck box. Hey, Foyah, what about this sidewinder here? Trace, why, I don't think we'll have any trouble pinning the bank robberies on him. Robberies? You're crazy. I never robbed any banks. I think you're gonna have a reason to remember Joey Payton's name a little better from now on. Come on, fellas, let's get out of here. There's no doubt about it. The only reason for Trace to pay up that note was because he planned to use the kid later. Well, how do you know the kid had come through? Oh, a boy like Joey's like a puppy when it comes to friends. The feelings of grateful to Trace, Joey believed everything he was told about banks and couldn't see anything wrong with, uh, lending a hand. But, Foyah, how come you let Trace go like you did? Well, we have no proof he robbed the banks. Well, but how come you made him think the kid would talk? You know Joey ain't the kind to go telling on anybody. Hey, Foyah, there he goes. Yeah, Trace and another guy headed up to Street Forge Peckus. That's what I've been waiting for. But where's Trace going? Most likely to Payton's farm to make sure Joey won't talk. Here's our chance to get the goods on Trace. Foyah, if anything happens to that kid, I don't know. Nothing will happen if we're there. If we cut across the first two bends on the road, we'll get to Joey way ahead of Trace, but we'll have to ride fast. Come on. Howdy, Miss Payton. Seen anything of Trace Saunders? Trace? Why, no. Where's Joey? In the house. Joey! Come on out! I think he's kind of ashamed. I've been talking to him like you told me to. Golly, Ma, it's the man who was here this morning. How are you, Joey? I guess I'm all right, mister. You never told us your names. Well, what do you know? I clean forgot. I'm Foyah Willing. This is Al Sloey, and here's Johnny Paul. Why, I've heard of you. You're the writers of the Purple Sage. That's right. And this here is Monty Montana. Monty Montana? The rodeo champ? Yeah, that's right. I guess I won a few events. Glad to know you there, son. Gosh. Gee, you're the champion tick roper and fancy writer. Monty, looks like you've got yourself a fan. Joey, how'd you like to go to Pecos with us tomorrow and see the rodeo? Golly, you mean you'll take me? Gee, Ma, did you hear? They're going to take me to the rodeo. Can I go, Ma, can I? Well, I can't see why not. Oh, boy. Will you be writing, Mr. Montana? I guess I might try my hand at a few of the events. If it wasn't for my leg, I bet I'd be pretty good at cash roping and bulldogging. I bet I'd be the first to put my money on you, Joey. Uh, Mrs. Payton, have you ever taken Joey to a doctor? Only when he was hurt. The doc says it might be Joey could walk again. Only it'd cost a sight more money than we'll ever have. You mean with enough money, Joey'd be able to walk again like other kids? Let's not talk about it. We're lucky to be able to scrape up a full meal. Gosh, why are you always talking about my leg? I can get around as good as anybody else on Queenie there. What's my horse? A fine horse she is, too, Sonny. Say, Joey, there's something I want to talk to you about first. You mean about the bank? That's right. Mom told me how it ain't right to go taking money from a bank because the money really belongs to the people and the banks only started guarding it for them. Well, that's the idea, Joey. Whoever held up the bank had no business telling you what they did. Gosh, it's not his fault. The way I figure it, his mom never told him what a bank is really for. Ahem, mm-hmm. You don't believe me. But I bet if I tell him what Mom told me, he'll take the money right back where he got it. You just wait and see. No, Joey. I'm afraid that man's just an honorary thief. Don't you go saying that about my partner. Don't you say it. Well, for I didn't mean no harm about it, Son. It's just that this partner of yours knows blame well what he's done. Yeah, just wait. Before you know it, we'll have him locked up where he belongs. You know who he is? The man who robbed the bank? I reckon we do, Joey. And you're going to lock him in jail before I have a chance to talk to him and have him take the money back? That's where I belong, Son. I see it all now. You came here promising you'd take me to the rodeo so you can put me out of the way and put him in jail. I ain't going and nobody's going to make me. Well, I'll be. What are you running the house for? Oh, it probably don't want us to seem cry. Loyal little cuss, ain't he? Boy, Monty, there's two guys on that hill outside the road there. Where? Up on Windor Rock there. Oh, heck, they're gone now. Monty, as soon as it's near dark, we'll make out like we're leaving and cut back to the house and wait. Get your hands up. All of you. Well, it's Joey. Watch out. That's the shotgun he's holding. And I know how to use it. Joey, you get back in the house right now. Sorry, Mom, but nobody's putting my partner in jail without giving him a chance to put that money back. Not even Monty Montana. Listen, Joey, you're all wrong. Trace is waiting. Back up. Back up and turn around. You heard me. Turn around. We'd better all turn around. No telling what he's liable to do. I just want to show you my partner is all white, like I said. Remember, I'm keeping you covered. That crazy kid. With Trace on that hill gunning for him, you'll get himself killed. Not if I can help it. Come on, after Joey. And keep your eyes peeled for Trace and his partner. Boy, it looks like we're gaining a little. The way you ride, you'd never know he had a crippled leg. Hey, Doc, somebody's throwing lead. Joey's down. They got Joey. Look, there's gun smoke over the hill to the right there. After them, all three of you. I'll look after Joey. Joey. Joey, boy. What you heard? It ain't me. It's my horse. You killed my horse. That wasn't that, Joey. Those shots came from that hill where Monty and the boys are heading. But who'd want to shoot my horse? Nobody wanted your horse, kid. Trace was afraid you'd tell on him. He wanted to shut your mouth for good. But I wouldn't have told. Not on Trace. He's my pal. But, Joey, your pal isn't the kind of a man you thought he was. That's what Mom told me. But Trace said we were partners. He wouldn't kill my horse. Not Trace. There now. You'll be getting another horse real soon. I'll never be able to buy another horse. Queenie, she was like legs to me. Now I won't ever be able to go any place. Well, I wish I knew what to tell you, Joey. Look, they're coming back and they've got him. They got Trace. Monty's leading him with a rope. Hey, boy, how bad is kid hurt? Not a scratch. They killed his horse, though. I say you got to sneaking coyotes, Monty. Trace, if Joey had been hurt, you wouldn't. I wouldn't give a plug-nickel for your life. Where'd you find him, Monty? Hiding behind some rocks. And as soon as he saw us, he hit out for the road. Monty up and closed his rope and hugged tight him neither to the rooster, trash, or a roasting. How about the other guy who was with Trace? Well, Johnny jumped him and knocked him off his horse. Johnny'll be bringing him along now any minute. Come on, let's go. Just a minute. Trace, did you really try to shoot me? Eh, I wish I'd done it, too. I should have known better to pick up a kid and go blabbing all over the countryside. Shut up! Come on, Joey. We'll take him down to jail in Barstow after we leave you off at home. Now, get a good night's sleep, because we'll be heading for Pecos right early. But I can't go. I have no horse. Don't you go fretting now, Joey. There's enough room for both of us on the back of my horse. Gee, Mr. Boy, did you see that? Monty's won the Bronx riding contest. That's four events he's won. And look, there's Monty coming toward us. Oh, boy. Here I am, Monty. Boy, this is working quickly through a million stampede. Say, Joey, what'd you think of the show? Oh, gosh, you as well. I'll always remember this rodeo as long as I live. You'll have a good reason to, Joey. Monty's got some news for you. Something for me? Yeah. Go ahead, boy. You better tell him. Well, Monty's depositing the $800 in prize money that he won in the bank, in your name. So you can have a doctor straighten your leg. You mean my leg's going to be well again? That's right, Joey. And just to be sure, you'll be able to get around. Meanwhile, you'll find a new pin of horse waiting for you outside the rodeo grounds. Just get on him. Gee, Mr. Montana. Gee. Monty, I'd like to thank you, too, but I'm afraid, well, I can't say it near as well as Joey does. Music Frontier women of the early West deserve a lot of credit for helping conquer the wilderness. Whether they lived in a wild frontier town or on a lonely cattle ranch, their greatest contribution was the home, and they were proud of the home which they provided for their families. Today, Western women are also proud of their home. They make sure that their home provides only the best for their families. And that's why so many modern homemakers insist upon good Weber's bread. They know that Weber's bread, with its firm, even texture and golden brown crust, is really good bread. And they have learned that their families enjoy the distinctive flavor of Weber's bread. Yes, as toast for breakfast, sandwiches for lunch, or in between snacks, and when served with dinner meals, good Weber's bread is sure to please the entire family. Buy some tomorrow. It's that good bread in the Blue Gingham wrapper. Music Now, here's Foy Willing again and his guest star, Monty Montana. Applause Monty, we're proud to have you here on the All-Star Western Theater, and sure hope you'll be coming around again real soon. Well, thanks, Foy, for those mighty kind words. I'll sure try to make it soon as I can. Doggone, if I don't wish I was going along to some of those rodeos with you. Well, I'd sure be glad to have you, because I'm making most of all the big ones this year. Well, I'm sure folks all over the nation will enjoy seeing Monty Montana and company. Good luck to you, Monty, and thanks for being with us. Every week, the writers of The Purple Sage choose what they believe to be a truly great song of the West. Here's Foy Willing now to tell you about this week's song. When cowboys get together in the bunkhouse or around the campfire, there's one song you're sure to hear. It's a really great song of the West, and we'd like to sing it for you. Cowboys Heaven. Oh, pain and I will be there Tonight I'm a tired weary cowboy I've been in the saddle all day Searching the hills and the valleys For cattle that strayed away Oh, pain is tired and late weary His feet are broken and sore But someday our work will be over And we'll ride on that other shore Good luck about it for this time, friends. This is Foy Willing speaking for Al Floyd, Johnny Paul, Gene Waltz, and all of the writers of The Purple Sage. Thanks so long and good luck to you all. From the Humbert and Berger All-Star Western Theater, a BM Bear production starring America's great Western singers Foy Willing and the writers of The Purple Sage. Our guest star has been Monte Montana, soon to be seen in the West's greatest rodeo, scripted by Les Farber, directed by Tom Harkus, Terry O'Sullivan speaking. This program came to you from Columbia Square. KNX Los Angeles.
