The following program is rebroadcast by the Armed Forces Radio Service to our fighting men overseas. ["Roy Rogers Show Theme"] Goodyear presents the Roy Rogers Show. ["Roy Rogers Show Theme"] You'll be hearing Bob Nolan and the Sons of the Pioneers, Pat Friday, the Far Brothers, Perry Botkin's Orchestra. And now the greatest name in rubber, Goodyear, invite you to meet America's greatest western star, Roy Rogers. ["Roy Rogers Show Theme"] Well, howdy folks, and we're almighty glad you're here with us again tonight for another Goodyear get-together. With a song or two, and of course a frontier yarn that I hope you'll all like. Roy, remember last week when you told that yarn about the Russian kid? You said there were a dozen or more frontier Robin Hoods. I sure do, Pat. Why? Well, I don't know if it's because I'm a woman, but the idea of a gay dashing Robin Hood stirs my imagination. And since you said there were more than a dozen of them in the early days, well, I was wondering if you might tell a story of another of those almost legendary characters tonight. Pat, it's a pleasure to indulge your woman's curiosity, so let's tell a story tonight about, well, about California's Robin Hood character, Joaquin Murrieta. Mmm, Joaquin Murrieta. Even the name has a romantic ring to it. Listen to her. Swooning again. Well, actually, how you felt about Murrieta, if you lived in the days of the gold rush, depended on who you were, Pat. On, uh, on who you were? Yeah, if you were an American who'd come in to make your fortune quickly with a gold claim, Murrieta was probably a desperate and reckless bandit to you, but if you were a Mexican or a California Spaniard, Joaquin was sort of an avenging knight in armor. You mean he actually wore armor, Roy? No, he wore clothes like anyone else, Pat, except they weren't just like anybody else's. He wore silks and satins and embroidered shirts and really cut quite a figure. You see, Murrieta was cut out to be a leader. He was an expert shot and at ten spaces, at ten paces rather, could throw a knife right through the center of a, of an ace of diamonds. He dressed like an actor and, well, maybe he was an actor at heart because many of his escapes were, were made possible by, possible because of his skill at disguise. Like the day when a crowd of people were standing around a sheriff's poster. Five thousand dollar reward offered by the citizens of Stockton to anyone who delivers Joaquin Murrieta dead or alive. Suddenly a well-dressed Mexican who had pushed his way through the crowd turned to a neighbor and said, Pardon, señor, perhaps you have a pencil I could borrow, eh? Sure, here you are, Pedro. Gracias. Well, the Mexican wrote something on the bottom of the handbill, then strode off, mounted and rode away. Just as his horse broke into a starting trot, some men crowded in closer to the billboard to see what he'd written. Suffering catfish, look at that. Look what it says. I will add ten thousand dollars to this reward and it's signed Joaquin Murrieta. Well, how about that? Well, it wasn't too long after that that a doctor in a little town of San Leandras had a caller one afternoon. You say a friend of yours is sick? Si, si, señor. He wish I bring you to him. Oh, where's this man located? Oh, he's out in back country. You come with me. I bring extra horse. I, I show you where he is. What's wrong with him? Stomach bad? Running a fever? Oh, no, sabe, señor. Pedro, he look like, he look like maybe he die. Well, I guess there's no use wasting time here. Wait till I fetch my bag and I'll ride with you. Si, señor, doctor. And when you ride with me, you wear blindfold. A half hour later, the doctor's blindfold was removed and he found himself in a cave high up in the mountains. There before him, stretched out on a hard rock floor, was Joaquin Murrieta. Murrieta was conscious. He smiled charmingly up at the doctor. Ah, señor, it was good of you to come. Murrieta, you might as well know now that I didn't come because I was threatened by this owl hoot of yours. I came because I understood a man was dying. Si, si, to be sure, you are a physician. You have made an oath to care for the dying and the sick. But, señor doctor, let us not waste time. I have already lost much blood. Here, here is the wound. Hmm. Yeah. I see. Señor doctor, your face, you look sad. Is it that I am not going to live? I don't know, Murrieta. Well, I'll dress the wounds. Your chances of recovery after that are about 50 out of 100. Three days from now, well, you should know if you're going to live or... Three days, eh? Well, we'll make you as comfortable as possible for that time, señor. Wait, do you think I'm going to stay here for three days? Si. Listen, I fulfilled my obligation as a physician. I've attended you. Besides, I have other patients. Many of them are sick as you are. Well, señor doctor, you might as well. You are not leaving this cave until we find out that I shall live or that I am dead. Venga, muerto. Bring the doctor some wine. HONKING Apparently, the plight of the doctor's other patients preyed on Murrieta's mind, or conscience. And after he was bandaged, he opened his eyes, smiled until the wince of pain was gone from his face, and spoke again. Señor doctor, I have made decision. Yeah, what now? I am only one life. You have many patients. If I live, I live. If not, we know you have done as good as you know how. My men will take you back. Well, your dressing should be changed, looked at. I'll tell you what I'll do with you, Murrieta. Si. You have your man meet me at the waterfall tomorrow at four, and I'll be back. You shall be back, our lords senor, or talvez, or she'll eat your posse with you, eh? Look, Murrieta, I'm here as a physician, not as an informer. You're a bandit, all right, but you're still a patient. What, if I recover, then I'm no longer a patient? What happens then, señor doctor? Then, young man, I shall do my duty as a citizen, and report your whereabouts. Si, si, I believe you, señor, but Murrieta is strong. He shall recover fast. In fact, you shall see. I will meet you personally at the waterfall tomorrow. Well, the next afternoon, shortly before four, the good doctor rode up toward the waterfall. As he approached, he noticed a young boy, a lad of possibly thirteen or fourteen, sitting nearby. Whoa, whoa there, whoa, whoa, whoa, easy boy, easy, easy. Oh, hello son. Are you the only one here? Si, si, they sent me to take you back to the cave. Eh, I should have expected that. Murrieta said he'd meet me at the waterfall. Joaquin Murrieta never break promise, señor. Oh, no? Then why did he send you instead of coming himself? Señor Joaquin never break promise in whole life, but perhaps you need eyeglasses, señor doctor. Grief. Murrieta, what were you doing disguised? Well, you say you return alone, so to find out, Murrieta must make very sure. If you bring posse, well, señor, they not recognize me better than you. Yeah, from the sound of you, you must have passed the crisis and be on the road to recovery. Oh, si, it is like I tell you, I am almost well. In that case, Murrieta, I shall change the dressing, give you until ten tomorrow morning to be out of here. At ten o'clock, I'm reporting your whereabouts to the sheriff. When the doctor got home that night, he rode into his yard. He noticed an old man, a Mexican, half sitting, half leaning against his porch. A huge battered sombrero was perched on top of his tangled gray hair, and a brown cigarette, long since gone out, dangled from his lips. Are you waiting for me? Si, señor doctor, I wish you would come with me. I'm sorry, señor doctor, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, señor doctor, I'm sorry. Your Weiquito, don't worry. Si, señor doctor, I do, my head is at work. I Why should you pay? Murietta didn't even offer to. Oh, but my dinero is so good as his, senor. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Keep your money. Hey, by the way, why are you so interested in Murietta? Oh, what can he is? How you call him? He is nephew to me. Oh, well, well, I'm much obliged anyhow. Your nephew as well, and you hang on to your dinero. Well, good night, senor. Well, it's nojah, senor doctor. As la vista. Next morning, shortly after nine, the doctor left his house and headed for town in the sheriff's office. By the time he got there, it would be almost ten, time to give the word that Murietta's hideout had been found. He tied his horse at the hitching rail and stepped upon to the boardwalk, and as he headed for the sheriff's office, he noticed the same old Mexican, this time leaning against the frame of an empty doorway. What is there, senor? What are you doing here? Senor, you will not accept money. Por favor, it, it make me feel better. Look, now, we've been all over that before. You keep your money. Oh, but Joaquin owe it to you, senor doctor. All right, all right, then let Joaquin give it to me. Bueno. All right, doctor, Joaquin gives it to you here. Well, I'll be jiggered. Murietta, another disguise. Then that was you at my house last night. Oh, see, I have been to your house all night. All night? See. What do you want me to tell you what I came for? Well, doctor, you say you do not tell sheriff until 10 o'clock this morning. Murietta, you must be sure. And you have the gall to come to town. Stand right out here on the street, two doors from the sheriff's office? Murietta, you must be sure. Well, this time you overplayed your hand. I'm going in and report you right now before you can get out of town. Senor, you give me word you do not tell sheriff before 10 o'clock. That is still four minutes away. Now, if you wish to break word, you go right ahead, but what you going to tell sheriff Joaquin look like, huh? Old man, small boy, maybe even fox, eh? He not ever know what to look for, senor doctor. Adios, senor doctor. And Murietta will never forget you. I really like you. you