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 Pecos 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. Teaming crucibles of pioneer freedom. Frontier Town. Before the war. Ever hear of a cow town called Dos Rios? Well don't feel bad if you haven't. It's just one of those frontier towns, roistering and noisy. Purged in one of the luscious and richest valleys below the continental divide. Me, I'm Chad Remington, the town's only lawyer. But like everyone else, I've got my own ranch with the typical well-fed, slab-sided herd of cattle for which our valley is so famous. Just because these cattle are valuable, well it gives some men ideas. That makes plenty of business and trouble for a saddle-stop lawyer. It wasn't too long ago that I was riding in toward Dos Rios for my spread. Cherokee O'Bannon, he runs the town livery stable now that we've talked him out of peddling his genuine Indian rattlesnake oil. Cherokee was riding with me as we cut across some open range trying to get to Dos Rios before sundown. Hey, hey, look at those herfers, will you Cherokee? Someday with a few more head I might even be able to burn up my law books and retire. And? And I use the term at the Twinge of Conscience. You must have bats in your belfry. Look at it, a bunch of cows like that. For shame. What have I done now to offend your artistic integrity? What has he done now, he says. My boy, you've been casting sultry, longing looks at a bunch of blank-faced cows. When half that emotion spent on a proper female woman would return to you tenfold. Hey, a hundredfold. Oh, don't you go biblical on me, you old reprobate. And something else, unless a man has a few head of good beef he can't afford to cast long, lingering looks at a woman. Chad, my boy, your total lack of sophistication and experience hurts me deeply. A man who has some money in his jeans doesn't need to bother with the distaff side. He can go out and woo old John Barley corn. Cherokee, the older you get the more unregenerate you become. Your total lack of appreciation for a herd of cattle is something that I... Hey, Cherokee, rain up. Slow there, girl. How would a billy blue blazer happen to you, Chad? You see that water hole just ahead of us? Yes, sir. Isn't that a tin can lying next to it, lying on its side? Yeah, unless my optics deceive me. That's an empty five gallon can. But what about it? It's a lead pipe cinch. It didn't contain old spiritus fumenti. That's drinking liquor to you. No, it's a lead pipe cinch. It didn't contain anything that pleasant. I got an awful feeling it did contain five gallons of enough stuff to poison every steer that drank out of that water hole. Why, if I ever catch the pussy-footin' polecat that did that, I'll darn well destroy him. Come on, girl, get up. I'd like to get my hands on the person who did this. Putting poison in a water hole. I must admit it's incomprehensible even to me. Why would someone want to poison a lot of dumb, defenseless cows? I don't know, but with their stock poisoned, no off how many ranchers around here could pay their debts. You mean to say someone deliberately? By the great god Pan Chad, this is the most nefarious bit of chicanery I've ever heard of. It certainly is. Now, just a minute. I heard you say just the other day that not over half a dozen ranchers in this whole valley owe a mortgage to the bank. That old sourball Ripley who owns the bank forced most of them to pay up a year ago last spring. So what debts could they have? Plenty. Ever since Ripley shut off most of the credit, which absorbed most of the cash folks had on hand, everyone's been buying at Parker's store because Lysher Parker's been willing to let his bills run. Lysher Parker? If you mean to insinuate Lysher Parker's mixed up in this cattle poisoning, you and I are coming to Fisticuffs. Why, that old gentleman is so honest, it makes me blush, yes it does. Oh, calm down Cherokee, calm down. This has nothing to do with Lysher. But legally, if the ranchers can't pay their debts, he could go to court, get judgment, and take them all over lock, stock, and barrel in liquidation of his claims. But if you say Lysher's mixed up in it, Shax Chad, I think you're putting your money on the nose of the wrong horse. I'm not making any bets on this race. I've got a notion it's been fixed. I'm flam well gonna find out if I can before the sun sets today. If I sounded like a boastful kid, well that's just the way it turned out. Because after talking to Lysher and Sarah Parker, not only didn't I find anything before sundown, but I didn't find out anything for the best part of a week. Water holes continued to be poisoned, strangers drifted in and out of town, even the sheriff couldn't find out a thing that had helped. Then, best I can piece it together, another stranger arrived in town. The stranger. The stranger who wasn't too strange to the handful of gunslicks who'd been hanging around town. They got together in the silver boots of war. Hey Bartender, let's have another bottle. Aye, Lefty, the boy said you were over here. Pull up a chair and rest your frame, troop. If you got your work done, you must be tired. Bring another glass with that bottle. I got my work done all right. You know me, boss. Yeah, I sure do. That's why I shipped you up here ahead of me. Any, uh, any trouble? Oh, sharks, no. Oh, there's been a Jasper in town snooping around, a lawyer named Chad Remington. But he ain't found out a thing, Lefty, believe me. You'd better not find out anything if he wants to go on practicing law. Because I'll get him just the way I'm gonna get Parker stored. Now look, Lefty, you ain't ever been here in those rills before. Me and the boys have been here for more than a week. And I'm telling you, that derelisha Parker's a stubborn old goat. He'll never sell. No? Well, let's just suppose that Parker won't. Don't you think his widow will? Widow? That's what I said, widow. And if Parker is as crusty an old goat as you say he is, it shouldn't be too hard. Shouldn't be, uh, Lefty, huh? I'm sorry, I just don't get you. Just like you said, Parker's got a nasty temper, hasn't he? Yeah. Now you're going over to that store and talk Parker into an argument. You understand? Poor Parker, with that temper of his, gets sore and grabs for his gun. That's all, mister. He grabs for his gun, only you outdraw him. Hey, you really got something there. Don't let nobody tell me Lefty slaughtered god brains. Yeah? Well, instead of wasting your time trying to butter me up, you better be getting over to Parker's store. Because once he's out of the way, it's still gonna take time before I'm the owner of all the choicest ranches in the Dos Rios Valley. Now go on. I'm getting so anxious my tongue's hanging out. Lasha? Oh, Lasha! Yes, sir? Oh, want me to put that bold calico up on the shelf for you? Would you please, Lasha? You're a dear. After 42 years, what we've been through together, sir, certainly doesn't take a... Well, looks like we got a new customer coming in. Howdy. Howdy. I'd like a pound of sugar. A pound of sugar. It's right here. I said I wanted a pound. Well, sure, I heard you. This is a pound sack. You aiming on calling me a liar? Now look here, mister, I didn't ask you to come into my store. But I come in, and I'm not gonna have some even crook like you give me a half pound and claim it's a pound. You get out of here, dog-gun, you turn around and clear out of my place before I blast you. Lasha, don't. You bold-headed old goat. Nobody's putting me out of no place. I'll show you who's a... Lasha, watch out! Lasha! Lasha! Hold it, you. Get away from that door. Watch him, Cherokee. That's right, sir. Did he do the shooting, Mrs. Parker? He... he killed my husband. Yeah? Well, I only shot in self-defense. Is that the truth, Mrs. Parker? Yes. I tried to stop him, but Lasha did draw first. Well, now are you satisfied? I can't say that I'm satisfied. I guess the sheriff won't hold you in the face of that evidence. Lasha. Oh, Lasha, why did you do it? I can't tell you how sorry I am. I didn't get here two seconds earlier. Oh, that's all right, Chad. Oh, Lasha. Lasha. Just saying how sorry I am. I know I wasn't going to bring your husband back, but there's still an account to be squared up, and I'm hoping you'll let me square it. Come on, Cherokee. We're going to escort this buzzard down to the sheriff. It was a foregone conclusion that the sheriff had released Krug, but not before we found out that he had something to do with the stranger who'd arrived in town. Lefty Slaughter. Not knowing Slaughter, I decided to go down to the saloon where he was hanging out and size him up just in case. Go on, honey. One more drink, and I'll give you some more folding money to lose at Pharaoh. Oh, excuse me, but the bartender pointed you out to me as Lefty Slaughter. Yeah. Something I can do for you, my friend? If I didn't have something else on my mind, Slaughter, I'd ask you to apologize for calling me a friend. Asking for an apology and getting one are two different things. Well, maybe I've been lucky, but I generally get what I ask for. And maybe that's because you make it your business to ask the wrong people. Yeah, maybe. But I didn't come here to ask you anything. I came here to tell you something. You don't say? Lysher Parker was just shot down in cold blood, and I thought you'd want to know I'm making it my business to find out why. Oh? Well, I never had the pleasure of meeting this Mr. Parker, but if he was a friend of yours, I can't say that I'm exactly sorry. Well, you may be sorry next time you or any of your gun hands try to finish off what you've started. And now if you're through, I'm sure you'll excuse me so I can start enjoying myself. Well, sure, Mr. Slaughter. Enjoy everything while you can. Because if you keep up like I think you've started, legally or otherwise, I'm going to help see that you enjoy the next 50 years of your life rotting away in jail. Ha ha ha ha ha! Music We'll return to the exciting second act of our Frontier Town adventure in just about one minute. Music Music I'm now Frontier Town. Guess I sounded like a boastful kid all over again. I mean going in and deliberately rubbing lefty Slaughter the wrong way. But I've found until you've rubbed the fur, you can't tell if the animal you've got is a house cat or a pole cat. Sometimes they're both dangerous, but you trap them different ways. Well, I found out in short order that Slaughter was as cold and cocky as they come. Knowing that, there was nothing more I could find out until such time as he chose to make his next move. So Cherokee and I sat for four more days in my office up above Cherokee's livery stable, looking out the window and watching the entire street. And late the afternoon of the fifth day, Cherokee turned away from the window suddenly. Chad, look there! Hmm? That double-dyed, dirty gunslinger who terminated Lysher Parker's mortal existence is walking down the street with lefty Slaughter. He was walking with him. Now Krug's turned off into the saloon and... Hey, hey, see what Slaughter's doing? He's heading straight for Mrs. Parker's store. If that's the case, and it certainly seems to be, then what are we doing loitering about this legal loggia? You're right, Cherokee. So grab your hat or your gun or both, and let's be finding out what business Slaughter might have with Mrs. Parker. MUSIC Some of the boys over at the hotel told me about the misfortune you had, Mrs. Parker. I mean about your husband. Well, certainly mighty kind of a stranger to come over and pay his sympathies. And believe me, sympathies just would make me drop in today. You see, I got to thinking about how difficult it might be for a woman like you to try and run a store alone. Yes. I'm afraid it really takes a man's mind to run a business right. Oh, isn't that the truth? And since I came to Dos Rios looking for a business to go into myself and with you now probably wanting to sell. Oh, I wasn't thinking of selling out, Mr. Slaughter. Now I know this may sound kind of sudden, but I'm willing to pay you a fair price, all cash. Say, $2,000. $2,000? Why, we've got more than $20,000 just owing us on the books. Sure, books. With a cattle dying off like flies, that $20,000 isn't worth anything it took to write it. Well, I don't aim to argue with a woman, but I'm a fair man. And once I make up my mind, I don't let anyone change it. Well, now isn't that too bad? Now you just listen to me. Mrs. Parker, you'd better do the listening. I've got $3,000 here in cash, so suppose you sit down and start writing out that bill of sale. Why, well, if I were a man, I'd take that shotgun off the wall. After you, Mrs. Parker. Hello, Slaughter. What are you doing here? Buttoning in again? Nope. But since you're determined to stay in Dos Rios, I'm just being neighborly. And seeing as you want to spend your money, I thought I'd suggest to Mrs. Parker that she accommodate you. Accommodate him? Why, what do you mean, Chad? Well, since you haven't done much cash business this year, I thought maybe I could help Mr. Slaughter spend some of that cash he's got on him right here. Since he's so all fired and anxious to buy something. Chad, I don't want any of his money, not any of it. Well, now who said it was his money? I'd hate to think where it came from. If you could think at all, you'd keep your nose out of this. What do you mean, think? If he could just smell, he'd keep his nose out of your business. Reeks to the high heaven. Why, you loudmouth. You think you're a smart ass. Chad, stop it. You wrecked my whole store. Don't worry about your store, Mrs. Parker. You able to get up, Cherokee? Once I get some of these tits and shuffles out of my hair. Slaughter, that was a mistake hitting Cherokee. Bad mistake for you. But at that, I guess you wouldn't have hit him if he hadn't been 20 years older than you are. Yeah? Who says so? I say so. I'm about your age. Why didn't you hit me? I'm not too gentlemanly to hit you. That's it, Chad. Beat the brains out of the blighter. Not much satisfaction to that, Cherokee. Won't hit back while I'm facing him. Well, if I had my way, I'd christen his thick skull with a few bottles of my Indian rattlesnake oil. Applied with vigor. I'll see you both of you again. I'm sure you will, but you're not leaving yet. Remember I was going to help you spend some of your hard-earned money here with Mrs. Parker? Cherokee, load some of those picks and shovels you knocked over into Mr. Slaughter's arms. My boy, you've got a most imaginative idea. What does he want with picks and shovels, Chad? From what I've heard, he's fixing to dig his own grave. There you are. Three picks, four shovels. Hold out your arms, you insult human race. He's going to pay for this. Oh, no. Wrong again, Slaughter. You're going to pay for this. Three picks and four shovels will be, well, in round numbers, let's say $50. Now, Cherokee, since we always aim to help the customer, just peel one of those bills off Mr. Slaughter's bankroll. Just one? Just one. You're never going to live a life of ease like that, Chad. Now, let's see. You can carry a little more. Just about room for a bolt of that calico. And it's just the right color for Slaughter, too. Yellow. Yellow? It'll make a nice yellow shroud for that grave he's digging for himself. With all the money he's got left, it's too bad we can't sell him a headstone. He's going to be needing that soon, I think. You're going to be laughing on the other side of your face before I'm through with you. For the time being, you're through with me now. So, adios, Slaughter. And in consideration of your $100 purchase this morning, Mr. O'Bannon will be glad to open the door for you as you go out. Goodbye, thank you. And be sure not to come in again. Chad, I just can't thank you enough. I'm afraid your thanks are a little premature. Why, what do you mean? Chad thinks he knows what that crook is up to. Seems to me Lefty Slaughter found out that almost every rancher in the valley owes you money. He's decided to cripple them, force you to sell out to him, and then take over what ranches he's wanted for the money they owe the store. How terrible. But why did you let him walk out of here? Why didn't you have him arrested? Well, because so far he's been too smart to involve himself. As his hired gun thugs do his dirty work, until we get them, Slaughter's still in the clear. I see. But isn't there anything you can do to stop them before they murder someone else like Lash? What I'd like to do is create a situation which may force Slaughter into doing something he hadn't planned on, some crime he hadn't figured in advance, and then catch him red-handed. I think we can, Mrs. Parker, if you'll give me your permission to call a meeting of all the ranchers who owe you money right here at your store. Music Quiet, quiet, please. Suppose you stop acting as if you're running this whole show, Remington, and let Sarah Parker do her own talking. Now, there's no talking for me to do. I've sold this store and all of its assets to Chad Remington, and from now on, you'll have to do business with him. Go on and grumble if you want, but it isn't going to do any good. You owe this store money, and I want cash on the barrel head. If I don't get it, I'm going to court and take judgments against every one of you. Remington, your poor father must be turning over his grave. How do you expect us to raise money now? You can raise money. All you got to do is drive your cattle to market and sell it off. Quiet! It's almost two months till shipping time. Instead of standing around here arguing, I'm advising you to get together and start a drive with your herds up to the nearest rail head. I'm only giving you five days to be back with cash. So if you know what's good for you, you'll be on your way by sunrise tomorrow morning. Music Are you Loco Krug, Remington buying out Mrs. Parker's store? Boss, I was there myself with the whole crowd, and he told them to get out and drive their cattle to market and be back with the money in five days, or else he was taking over every ranch in the valley. Well, well, well. There's nothing crookeder than a crooked lawyer. The funny part is, what he's doing is playing right into our hands. Playing into our... Sure, what happens? Those ranchers start driving their cattle to market. You and me and the rest of the boys are laying for them. We get the cattle. Remington don't get the money, and the ranches he takes over are worth nothing. Well, I'll be... That smart monkey is playing into our hands. What good are them ranches without cattle on them? No good. Krug, you go round up the boys. A thing like this calls for a real celebration. Music The others just thought I was dumb, all right. The Dos Rios ranchers knew I was a crook. All I was sure of was I was taking a long, wild chance and hoping it would pay off. Next morning, just as I told them to, the ranchers joined up in one big trail drive and started for San Jacinto. From where we were perched, Cherokee, the sheriff, the parcy and I, we could see the cattle spread out along the trail almost as far as the eye could reach. I guess we waited more than an hour, every man Jack's eyes shaded from the morning sun, scanning the paths below us, waiting, praying for some sign of trouble. And finally it came. A single shot. And then in the next instant it sounded like it must have been that day at Gettysburg. We waited for a moment to make sure we were right, and then the sheriff unholstered his gun and turned to me. You sure were right, Ched. Look at them rustlers pour out of that canyon. There must be a million of them. Two million maybe. All right, Chepossie men, unholster those.45s and let's get to riding. Cut down through that O'Royal. That way we can get between them and the cattle. Right in front of those rustlers bullets. Say, Chad, haven't I got time for a little drink of my rattlesnake oil or something? All you've got time to do is squeeze the trigger. Come on, let's go. Hey, Chad, one of those pussy-footin' polecats is turning around and heading for the woods. All right, it's that yellow-spined skunk Slaughter. Hey, Sheriff, you keep after the rest of them. Slaughter's trying to sneak away. I'm gonna get him. All right, Chad. All right, come on, men, and don't waste lead shitting over their heads. All right, get around there, fella. Slaughter's got a quarter-of-a-mile head start. Slaughter, the further away you ride, the further you're gonna bounce on the way back to town. I'm not warning you again. If I bulldog you off that horse of yours, you're gonna have to break your neck. All right, here's your lead back with interest. Get up there, boy. Come on, get alongside of him. In there now where I can get my arm around that... Oh, don't go on, you slaughterer. Am I gonna have to break your arm? Stop, Remington! Oh, Rick, oh. You got me. I quit. I quit. All right, then, come on. Get up. Yeah, and start walking. It's a long trip back to Dos Rios and to jail. And to jail. I'll blame you, Chad. Here you had us thinking you were a bigger crook than slaughter. And all the time you were doing it for our own good. Yes, siree, just like a father with an unreasonable kid. Yeah, spare the rod and spoil the child. That's Chad's motto. What's your motto, Cherokee? Well, I guess you might say to spare the flask and spoil the dream. By the way, isn't about time for the libation right now? From the way I look after bulldog and slaughter off his horse, it's about time for me to take a bath and put on some clean clothes. Well, it's not premature to thank you now, Chad. Except I don't know how I ever can. Enough. You go talking to that young sprat like that, siree, and he'll go getting a swell head. Not that you don't deserve one, though. That little idea of his of making the boys trail their cattle has certainly squeezed slaughter into pulling one crime he hadn't figured on. Yes, so right, sheriff. And in honor of my dear friend's talents, I suggest someone buy me a little shot of something good so I can propose a toast to it. Besides, my knees have to stop shaking your ass. Well, my knee isn't shaking, Cherokee, and it's strong enough to turn you over it and beat a little genuine Indian tune on your tom-tom. Go, Chad! If you'd turn me over your knee, not only would you break my spirit, but you'd bust a flask full of the finest Air Key Indian rattlesnake oil that ever whetted a man's whistle. I'm going home! Frontier Town, starring Tex Chandler, is a Bruce Ells production. Supervision by Joel Murcott. Story and direction by Paul Franklin. Music written and played by Ivan Dittmar. 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. This is Bill Foreman telling you that Frontier Town came to you from Hollywood. Music by Bill Foreman.
