In a moment you'll hear James Stewart as the sick shooter. Just one of many fine programs brought to you each week on NBC. Tomorrow night there's top comedy entertainment with the Bob Hope Show, the Phil Harris Alice Faye Show, and Can You Top This? with Senator Fourth. Bob Hope delivers rapid-fire comedy routines while Phil Harris and Alice Faye bring both mirth and music. It's a great Friday night lineup of comedy programs, all of them heard only on NBC. James Stewart as the sick shooter. The man in the saddle is angular and long-legged. His skin is sundyed brown. The gun in his holster is gray steel and rainbow mother of pearl. Its handle unmarked. People call them both the sick shooter. The NBC Radio Network presents James Stewart as the sick shooter, a transcribed series of radio dramas based on the life of Britt Ponset, the Texas Plainsman who wandered through the western territories leaving behind a trail of still remembered legends. We weren't exactly lost, scarn me. Well, not completely anyhow. I had a sort of a general idea of whereabouts, but I must have taken a wrong turn back at Blend Four for we to reach Minton by now. The trouble was I'd never covered the southern part of the state before, and so for the last half hour I sort of kept my eyes peeled for a ranch where I could get no bearings. I hadn't spotted any signs of civilization, though. There didn't seem to be any settlers along the trail. And when I finally did come within sight of a house, I almost missed it. And sorry, he didn't. He was thirsty and he could smell water. What's the matter, boy? What's the matter? Oh, oh, oh, there he is. Ah, it was about a quarter of a mile east, nearly hidden in a clump of cottonwoods, large rambling two-story building, sort of gray colored, like it had been white once and needed a coat of paint. Ah, I begin to wonder whether anybody still lived here. Easy, boy, easy, easy now. The steps leading up to the porch were cracked and broken, and a hole in the side window was stuffed with newspaper to keep the wind down. Hello? Anybody home? Who? Who is it? What do you want? Well, just some directions, ma'am. I'm looking for a trail to Minton. Oh, a minute. A trail to Minton, you said? Yes, ma'am. You said it should have turned east at Glen Fork. Oh, oh, I see. Trail past here's the old one. Four miles longer and nobody uses it anymore. I see. Well, as long as it goes to Minton anyway. Four miles longer and nobody uses it nowadays. Yes, ma'am. I'd still be shorter than going all the way back to Glen Fork, wouldn't I? I, I guess so. Yes, well, thanks, ma'am. Oh, uh, oh, ma'am. Yes? You don't have to have some extra water, do you, from a horse? There's a pump out in back. I'll show you. Oh, no, no need for you to trouble yourself. I'll find it. Come on, Pa. No trouble, Mr. Uh. Ponson, ma'am. Britt Ponson. Ponson? I think I've heard my husband speak of you. Oh. You can use that bucket. Oh, here it is. Thanks. We've had a dry summer, very dry. It may take a while for it to start drawing. Sure, of course. Britt Ponson. Yes, I'm certain the general mentioned your name. The general? I'm Hannah Guilford, General Guilford's wife. Oh. Oh, well, I'm very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Guilford. Then, then you do know William? I knew him, yes, yes, ma'am. I knew him when he was in command of Fort Clark. That was a couple of years before he... Fort Clark. I wasn't with him there. William thought it would be too dangerous. Indians. Uh-huh, uh-huh. The general will be very pleased when I tell him to stop by. He's taken a nap now and I'd hate to wake him. But if you're going to be in Mettenville perhaps some other day. But I don't quite understand, ma'am. I thought that I'm in... You don't believe me, do you? You're like all the others. You think he's dead. You think the Cheyenne killed him. No, no, Mrs. Guilford. I... I tell you, he's alive. General William Guilford's still alive. Well, Hannah Guilford wasn't the first woman to get rocked off balance for the shock of her husband's death. I was kind of surprised that she wasn't over it by now. It's been five years since the massacre at Red Hills. Five years since William Guilford and his cavalry regiment had been wiped out the last man. Easy, boy. Easy. Oh, I had enough? All right, come on. Anyway, I bled scar away from the pomp. I started climbing on the saddle. Just then the front door opened again. She looked different now somehow. Clear eyed, calm, sensible. Mr. Ponson? Yes, ma'am? I wonder if you'd do me a favor. Well, I'd be happy to, Mrs. Guilford. I've made a list of some supplies I need from Traylor's general store in Metten. Would you ask Mr. Traylor to bring them out first thing in the morning? Oh, certainly, ma'am. Here. My husband and I were planning to take the buckboard into town this afternoon, but I don't think he's up to the drive. This way you'll save us the trip. You sure you don't mind? No, no, not a bet, not a bet. Bye, Mrs. Guilford. Bye. Don't forget to tell Mr. Traylor first thing in the morning. That's when I want them. She's not getting this stuff first thing in the morning any other time. No? I can't go on supporting Hannah Guilford for the rest of her life, Mr. Ponson. You can see that. Sure, sure. I know the general was a hero, give his life fighting for the rest of this, but there's a limit. Feeding her ain't enough. I have to send food for him, too. Yeah, well, I'm afraid I don't understand, Mr. Traylor. Look at this here list of hers. Here, right here. Two steaks for the general. You know how thick to cut them. Oh, that's a... I'm not saying don't feel sorry for her, living out there all alone, cooking meals for him. There's talk she even sets his place at the table. Well, what... But she's carrying on like this for five years, Mr. Ponson, refusing to believe it. He's dead, pretending that we're the ones who are crazy because we tell her the truth about him. Now, we all thought, the folks here in town, that is, we thought she'd come to her senses long before this, but she don't. She seems to get worse all the time. Oh, that's too bad, isn't it? Yeah, and it's not good for the town, either. Well, how's that? Well, you know how kids are. Oh. They get ideas. Well, some of them have been sneaking out to the Guilford Ranch, and they claim they've seen the general's ghost. Oh. Yeah. Next thing, it won't be just the kids who are talking that kind of foolishness. Mr. Ponson, I have heard her carry on a conversation with the general. Is that so? Yeah. Sometimes when I come up the house with a load of food, she's chattering away like he was right there in the same room with her. Gives a man a P.Q. to your feeling. That's all there is to it. Yeah, sure was. You don't think it's wrong of me not to give her a grub? No, it sounds like you've done about all you can for her, Mr. Traylor. Besides, it ain't just the food. It's a six mile ride out there. And I have to close up my store while I'm gone and lose all that trade. Uh-huh. Why, oh, what's the use? I keep saying I won't do it again. Keep telling myself I'll put my foot down for good and all, but I never do. I get to thinking about the general and how much we all owe him. And I get to thinking about Hannah, too. How pretty she was when they got married. She was young and pretty. She was a lot younger than him, you know, only about 20 at the time of the wedding. And see, that was 17. No, that was 18 years ago. 18? Well, you mean she, what does that make it? You mean she's only 38 now? Yeah, somewhere in there. Not much older, anyway. You wouldn't think at the look at her, would you, Mr. Ponted? You wouldn't think she was once the prettiest girl in Minton, now would you? I guess she's been through a lot. Yeah, yeah, I guess she had. Well, I suppose I might as well start getting her ordered together. If I have it all ready to take out there in the morning, I won't miss much business. The fact of the matter is I won't miss any business. Seems how I got the only general store here in Minton. Say, if it'd be of any help to you, Mr. Trailer, I could drive out to the Guilford Ranch tonight and deliver the supplies. No, no, no, no, I wouldn't want to put you out. No, I haven't got anything else to do. The cattle I'm waiting for haven't showed up yet, probably won't be here before morning. Well, I'm sure it won't be an imposition. No, not at all. I'd take myself, but after seven, before I close up, and then by the time I had supper, it makes it so darn late. Sure, I understand. It'll only take me a few minutes to fill her order. Oh, why don't you just dip into that cookie barrel there while you wait? I left Scar at the liver stable and trailer loaded the grub from Mr. Guilford into the buckboard, and I started off with the ranch. Come on, get up, get up. Come on, get up. The sun had gone down by the time I got there. It wasn't dark yet, though. You could still see yellow and red over behind the mountain, but the evening star was getting brighter and brighter. Whoa, whoa, whoa now. I thought sure, she must have heard me when I drove into the yard, but the front door hadn't opened yet, so I climbed off the seat, walked up those broken steps onto the porch, and the next thing I... Oh. You can't live on charity forever, will you? You've got to do something about the ranch so that you find some way of getting in shape again. You've got to have money. I figured it was one of those conversations trailer had told me about that Hannah was talking to herself pretending her husband was with her, and I felt kind of peculiar, too, the way trailer said he felt. I raised my hand to knock, and then all of a sudden I heard something else, something that told me I'd figured wrong. It's been five years. Those who think I know how long it's been, five years, you call it. To me, it's been fifty. Well, there wasn't much doubt about who that voice belonged to, even though I hadn't heard it since Fort Clark. Hannah Guilford wasn't pretending, and she wasn't talking to herself either. She was talking to her husband. We'll return to James Stewart as the sick shooter in just a moment. It is the busy folks particularly who should listen to this bit of advice from the American Cancer Society. Regular physical examinations are important in the fight against cancer. Medical science today can cure many cancers if treatment is started soon enough. In other words, to cure cancer, it has to be discovered in its early stages. Regular physical examinations are one of the best ways in the world of detecting the condition in time. Another way is by knowing cancer seven danger signals. If you'd like a free list of them, plus a lot of other life-saving information, write today to the American Cancer Society and care of your local postmaster. Providing information to fight cancer is part of the American Cancer Society's job. Other vital parts of its job are to provide research, education, and service to cancer patients. You can help in the fight to beat cancer. This is Cancer Control Month by proclamation of Congress. To help, please send a contribution now to Cancer in Care of Your Local Postmaster. Now, Act Two of The Sick Shooter, starring James Stewart as Britt Ponset. Well for a minute or so, I just stood there in the Guilford porch listening. Like everybody else, I thought General Guilford was dead, that he'd been killed by the Cheyennes when his regiment was wiped out. Why, there was even a monument to him in the cemetery and mitten. I'd seen it that afternoon as a road pass there. You know as well as I do, Hannah, we can't sell the ranch and we can't move away. If we were foolish enough to try that. Well, whatever the explanation was, it didn't need to concern me. And I turned and started for the buckboard. Right then, one of those cracked porch steps decided to give way. Well, I managed to keep my balance, but I'd made enough racket to drown out half a dozen conversations. Oh, Mr. Ponset. Oh, good evening ma'am. What do you want? Why did you come back? Well, I brought the things you ordered from town. I thought I'd save Mr. Traylor a trip. Oh, I, I told the general you were here this afternoon. I was just talking about you as a matter of fact. Yes ma'am, I know. You know. I heard you, and the general. Oh. Here, I'll help you get this stuff unloaded. Never mind. What? Don't bother with it now, Mr. Ponset. Just come into the house, please. Now look, Mrs. Guilford, I didn't mean to be eavesdropping here. Doesn't matter. Somebody was bound to discover the truth. I thought it would happen before this. I almost hoped it would. This way, Mr. Ponset. Yes ma'am. I followed Hannah Guilford through the front door. The general was sitting on the horsehair sofa. He hadn't aged at all since our last saw. Funny, the years had speeded up on his wife, but they'd stopped dead still for him. When he saw me, he got to his feet and he slipped on an army blouse. Even though the cloth had been patched and mended a dozen times, the jacket was still neatly pressed. It still looked military. Hello, Britt. General? He heard us talking, William. He heard your voice, too. I see. Why did it have to be you, Britt? I don't quite understand. Anybody else? People would say it was their imagination, that they'd heard a ghost. But they'd never say that Britt Ponset was imagining things. They'd believe you if you told them I was still alive. Oh, you never know what people are going to believe, General. What difference does it make now, William? Somebody was sure to find out sooner or later. Be quiet, Hannah. I want to think. There's nothing to think about. We have to face the truth, that's all. We? I'll stand by you. Always have, haven't I? Yes, my dear, yes. You've been very loyal. But I'm the one they'll court-martial. Not you. Court-martial? Not both of us. Court-martial? The army doesn't look very favorably on desertion, Britt. Oh? It was an accident, of course. It wasn't intentional. It shouldn't have happened, I know, but my being there wouldn't have made any difference. They'd have all been killed anyway, and me along with them. I see. You weren't at the massacre then. No. I hadn't been feeling well for several days. I didn't know what it was, and the army doctor with us hadn't been able to help me, so I was writing for Browning when it happened. If I had expected the Indians to attack, if I had had any idea there were so many of them, I would never have left my men. The scouts told us only seven or eight hundred. They said the Cheyennes were breaking camp, preparing to withdraw. If I had known there were so many, I would never have left. Yes, but I... How do you think I felt when that corporal caught up with me? The only man who escaped the slaughter. How do you think I felt when he told me what had happened and then died in my arms? Well, maybe if he hadn't died, he'd been able to get help. I went back to them, back to my men. I saw what had happened with my own eyes. It was horrible. Mutilation. Awful. They were my responsibility, but it wasn't my fault. It wouldn't have made any difference if I had been there. But you should have explained it to the army. I was going to. I wanted to be sure that Hannah understood first, that she was prepared for the shock when the news came out. Then by the time I got there, it was too late. Too late? They were saying I was a hero, that I had died with my men. And if I had gone to the army, if I had told them my story, I wasn't sure they'd believe me. They might think I had deserted in the face of enemy fire. There was no one to back me up. No one. I couldn't go to the army. It was too late. I couldn't go to them. So you just stayed on here hiding. You don't know what I've gone through. For I've had my punishment worse than any court marshal could give me. Living in darkness for five years, never seeing another person but Hannah, never talking to anybody else. Five years without smelling trees or feeling rain or having a cavalry horse under me. But your wife kept claiming you were alive. You knew that, didn't you? Of course I knew it. It was part of my plan. We had to have food and out for both of us. Clothes, me. That was the way Hannah could get them, I say. Tell everybody I'm alive, I said. Tell them I'm here with you. They'll only think you're crazy. Even if they should see me, if they should stumble on the truth, they'll never believe it. My wife is a good actress, isn't she, Britt? But no longer. Not anymore, William. What do you mean, my dear? You said yourself folks will believe Mr. Ponson. I said they would believe him. Would? Turn up the lamp, Hannah. My eyes aren't as good as they once were, Britt. I guess eyes need lots of daylight. Well, I... Please, don't go yet. What's that gun for, General? A man changes a lot in five years. Some men do. Five years ago, if I had been forced to go back to the Army, take my medicine, I'd have been able to do it. But now I can't, Britt. As miserable as I am here, as terrible as this life is, I won't give it up. Put it away, William. Put the gun away. If you fire, if you shoot Mr. Ponson, I'll know that you've lied to me all these years. It was your fault, the massacre. I'll know that you really are a coward. Go into the other room, Hannah. This does not concern you. What concern me? I loved you, William. Even after you came back, after what happened, I still loved you. No, I know. Tonight, I know. I don't love you any longer. Any more than you love me. Hannah. Look at me, William. Look at my face, my hair. These five years have done that to me. You've done it to me. You mustn't upset yourself, Hannah. Another year or two, we'll be able to leave Minton, live somewhere else. People won't recognize me then. People will always recognize you. Why do you think you haven't aged? Why do you think you look just the same? It's so people will always be able to tell who you are and you'll never feel safe. That's your punishment, William Guilford. I'm leaving now, General. No, but you're not. Go ahead, kill him. What's one more life to you? What's one more life to a man who left a whole regiment of soldiers to die? Your husband's not going to kill anybody, Mrs. Guilford. He said he'd changed in the last five years. Well, I think he has changed. I think he's become such a coward that even the sound of a gunshot would scare him half to death. Brent! I wasn't being particularly brave walking out in the channel like that. You can pretty much tell what a man's going to do when he's holding a gun, the way his eyes look at you. And Guilford's eyes weren't staring at me like he meant business. I started to close the front door and I just glanced back over my shoulder as I did it. Guilford was walking up the stairs. He was almost at the top and then all of a sudden he kind of stumbled. Guilford! William! William, a doctor! Mr. Ponson, get a doctor, please! I'm afraid it's too late for that. No! No, it can't be! Better let me put him on the sofa here. William! William, William! Do you have any brandy, Mrs. Guilford? Here, now, now, Miss Guilford. Brandy? Yes, ma'am. I think so. On the sideboard. All right, I'll get it. Yes, yes, give William some brandy and then he'll be all right. He will be all right, won't he, Mr. Ponson? Here, drink this. Me? I'm not sick. It's William who's sick. It's William who needs the brandy. The General's dead, Mrs. Guilford. No, no, you're wrong. That's just what people think. That's what we want them to think. But he isn't dead. He's here with me. He lives here in this house. You've got to get a hold of yourself, Mrs. Guilford. Why do people keep saying the General is dead? Come on, get a hold of yourself here. Stop shaking me. Stop it. But I didn't stop. I went right on shaking your heart, heart, heart until I thought you were going to faint. And then for a second she went limp and let out a pitiful little moan. And then she straightened up and her expression changed. It was sort of like a window curtain being pulled back from in front of her eyes. I'm, I'm all right now, Mr. Ponson. Well, I'm sorry if I hurt you any. You had to do it. If you hadn't, I don't know what would have happened. Well, you'd better ride back into town with me and spend a night in there and we can send somebody back here to take care of the General. I can't, Mr. Ponson. I just can't let folks find out about it. Yeah, well, I'm afraid it's got to come out now. Everything? That he, that he left his men to die at the massacre? That he was ashamed to admit it? That he's been hiding here ever since? Isn't there some way we can leave him as he was? Anyway, at all? Well, I don't know. I just, under the circumstances, it'd be pretty hard to... Not for myself. I don't care what happens to me. What they say about me, but he, the General had been a good soldier once, a fine soldier. What good will it do to destroy that? Well, I know, but I, it's just... Oh. Here, you'd better be careful there, Mrs. Guilford. Well, that table with the lamp on it, you almost knocked it over there. And if the lamp should get broken, you know, this whole place would probably go up and smoke before we could do anything about it. Yeah. It wouldn't matter. The ranch doesn't mean anything to me. Not now. I could never live here again anyway. Yes, well, all the same, I have to be careful, you know. Fire is very dangerous. Yes, yes, it is. Fire. Here, now, what are you doing? Now, put that lamp down. Fire. Fire. Come on, come on. We've got to hurry up and get out of here. Come on. Of course, they found the General's body in the ruins, but they didn't know who it was. And the report got around that it was a tramp who tried to force his way into the house, and she'd shot him. And the fire had been started during the scuffle. Everybody seemed satisfied by that, and as long as nobody asked me, I didn't feel obliged to volunteer any additional information. The next time I came back to Menden, I thought, George, I could hardly recognize Hannah Guilford. She was working in Traylor's general store. And, oh, she looked good eight, ten years younger than she had before. There was even talk about her and Mr. Traylor getting married. It seems that after the fire, well, she sort of got a hold of herself, faced up to the fact that the general was dead. At least that's how Traylor explained it to me. He said that the tramp breaking in on her has done some good. And she was in the fellow's grave. It was right in the shadow of the monument to General William Guilford. The Six Shooter is a transcribed NBC radio network production in association with Revue Productions. It is based on a character created by Frank Burke and is written by him. Mr. Stewart may currently be seen in the Universal International Picture, the Glenn Miller story. Others in the cast were Virginia Gregg, Parley Bear, and Robert Griffin. Special music for this program was by Basil Adler, and the entire production is under the direction of Jack Johnstone. All characters and incidents were fictitious, and any resemblance to actual characters or incidents is purely coincidental. Oh, by the way, you'll be interested in knowing that the Six Shooter has been chosen for broadcast to our men overseas through the facilities of the Armed Forces Radio Services. This is John Wall speaking. Tonight, play Truth or Consequences with Ralph Edwards on the NBC Radio Network. .
