In a moment you'll hear James Stewart as the six 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 Ford. Bob Hope delivers rapid-fire comedy routines while Phil Harris and Alice Faye bring both mirth and music. A great Friday night lineup of comedy programs all of them heard only on NBC. James Stewart as the six shooter. The man in the saddle is angular and long-legged. His skin is sundried brown. The gun in his holster is gray steel and rainbow mother of pearl, its handle unmarked. People call them both the six shooter. The NBC Radio Network presents James Stewart as the six shooter. A transcribed series of radio dramas based on the life of Brett Ponset, the Texas Plainsman who wandered through the Western Territories leaving behind a trail of still remembered legends. Keep your shirt on, keep your shirt on. Bank don't open till 9 a.m. You got five minutes to wait. It's me, Mac Hawkins. I got some news for you, Ollie. News? About Wyatt King. Oh, oh. What's happened, Mac? They got him. No. Sheriff Hemphill's bringing him into town now. The posse come by my ranch about half hour ago. I took right off so I could spread the word. I just can't believe it. That's right. They got him. Hmm. Spud Hemphill capturing a Wyoming kid? Yeah, yeah. Oh, not that Spud ain't been a good sheriff, but, well, nobody's ever been able to lay a hand on Wyatt King before. Well, the sheriff didn't exactly capture him, Ollie. Well, I heard you said he... Well, the sheriff's bringing him in. That's true enough, but the way I understand it, the posse just sort of stumbled onto the kid. What? That's what they say. He was laying in a grove of sycamores over by Tenderfoot Creek. Dead, huh? No, no, no. But he'd been shot up some, a bullet in his belly. Must have been hit at close range. He was still out cold when they went past my place. Spud say who shot him and left him laying there? They just don't seem to know, Ollie. Well, he was in mighty good health when he rode out of here yesterday, cutting off $2,500 from my bank vault here. And your money was still on him. No need for you to worry about it. Oh. Good morning, Mithraun. I'm sorry I'm late. Matilda had one of her dizzy spells this morning and I had to wait until Doc MacIntyre got there. Jonas! Did you hear about Wyatt King? Wyatt King? The fellow who held me up yesterday. Oh. Why, I thought they called him something else. Some kind of kid. That's right. The Wyoming kid. Yeah, yeah. Well, his real name is Wyatt King. Oh. Don't you ever read them reward notices down to the post office? I just don't remember names very good, I guess. Oh. What about Mr. King? Well, he's been captured. You don't say? Yes. The sheriff found him down a ten-foot creek. He was all shunned up. My, my. And the darnedest thing is, nobody knows who shot him. What's so peculiar about that? Well, in the first place, the fellow who'd done it, he'd stand to collect a mighty nice reward. All them holdups Kings pulled, well, there must be at least $5,000 offered for him, dead or alive. My, my. That sure is a lot of money. Well, I better get over to my desk and start working on the account. Ollie, that ain't the only strange thing about this here business. Oh, oh. What are you driving? Well, I told you the kid had been shot at close range. That means somebody met up with him face to face. He wasn't dry gulched or nothing like that. Yeah, yeah. See what you mean. And it would take a mighty big man to stand up to Wyatt King and a mighty fast man to outdraw him. Yeah. He was supposed to be lightning gunfighter. There's about 10 graves that'll testify to that. Hmm. He sure ain't nobody around here. Well, at least with I can't think of anybody. Can you, man? No, no. Can't. Not a single solitary soul. I've been racking my brain ever since I heard what had happened. Ah, morning, Jones. Yes, sir. What can I do for you? You're the backer? That's right. Mr. Name's Ponset, Britt Ponset. Well, pleased to meet you, Mr. Ponset. I'm Oliver Rowan. Ah, howdy. I got a little check here. I was wondering if you could... Did you say Britt Ponset? That's right. Well, I'll be doggone. What's the matter, man? Why, why, he's a sick shooter, Ollie. A sick shooter? Ain't that right, Mr. Ponset? Well, sometimes I guess folks call me... There, there. What'd I tell you? Well, sir, I guess we don't have to do no more wondering about who shot up Wyatt King. Why? Well, sir, we're over here. We're over here. Well, sir, we're over here. We're over here. Well, sir, I guess we don't have to do no more wondering about who shot up Wyatt King. Why? Well, sir, we're almighty grateful, Mr. Ponset. Hold on. If we'd have known you was in these parts, we wouldn't have had no doubts in the first place. No, sir. I'm afraid I don't follow you. Well, you're the fellow who shot it up with the King last night, ain't you? Well, it must have been you. It couldn't have been nobody else. Why, of course it was him, Ollie. There ain't no doubt about it. I said I would take a fast man to outdraw the kid. Well, a sick shooter's just about the fastest man west of the Mississippi from the way I hear it. Well, that's mighty flattering, but as far as outdrawing Wyatt King, well, I wouldn't know about that since how we never met up. Never met up? No. You mean you didn't recognize him last night? Last night. Well, whenever it was, you shot him. Now, let's get this straight, gents. I didn't shoot Wyatt King last night or any other time. I've never laid eyes on him. Well, if it wasn't you, then who did do it? I sure wouldn't know. I sure wouldn't know. I rode down the trail from Fort Drexel. I didn't see any sign of Wyatt King or anybody else. Tenderfoot Creek's just off that trail. Is that so? Well, if Mr. Punchett says he didn't do it, I guess he didn't. Yeah. Oh, wait a minute. Hmm? Sure. Why didn't I think of it before? Yeah, I think you would. Everybody knows if the six-shooter don't like to take credit for what he does, he's the sort of man that hides his lamp under a bushel. Hmm. Well, you ain't going to get away with it here in Copper Springs, Mr. Posse. No, no. You're absolutely right, man. Yeah. Why, shooting an outlaw like Wyatt King ain't nothing to be ashamed of. Well, I... Mr. Punchett, you ought to be proud of yourself. Well, maybe I would if I'd done it. Hey, hey, hey. The fact is, I... There's Posse now. Just wait until I tell Sheriff Hempfield about this. Here, here in our... Wait a minute, Mac. Wait a minute. I'm coming with you. Listen to me, William. You mind the bank? Yes, sir, Mr. Rowan. I'll... No, no, Mr. Rowan, hey, why do you... Well, I'll be darned. Well, I never saw anything like it. For the next half hour, folks came up to me from all directions, all saying I'd shot Wyatt King, giving me their congratulations. I told them I hadn't had anything to do with it, but they just wouldn't be convinced. And I didn't see how I could straighten them out on it. It did make me feel kind of funny, though, all this hella-palu over a misunderstanding. And then when the mayor said something about letting the kids out of school for a day in my honor, well, I just had to find some way of putting a stop to it, so I headed over to the jail, introduced myself to Sheriff Hempfield. Sir, it's a privilege to meet you, Mr. Punchett, a real privilege. Yeah, it's a privilege, yes. Oh, not that I wouldn't have caught up with King myself sooner or later, but you kind of speeded up the operation. Yes, yes. Now, that's what I wanted to talk to you about, Sheriff. Oh, now, don't you worry about the reward. I'll see that you get it. No, no, I'm not interested in any reward. Well, yeah, everybody says you're the generous type. I heard that. Well, I'm not that generous, Sheriff. I reckon I'd take the reward if I was entitled to it. Oh, now, Mr. Punchett. Sheriff, Sheriff, you've got to listen to me now. I didn't shoot Wyatt King. I heard you've been trying to ease out of taking the credit. I'm not trying to do anything except tell you the truth. Now, you ask King when he comes to, you'll find out. Oh, he came to a little while ago, Mr. Punchett, right after Doc McIntyre got through patching him up. He's practically as good as new now. Well, go on, go on. Ask him if I had anything to do with shooting him. Well, why should I ask him again? Again? Well, sure. As soon as he was able to talk, I questioned him. Well? As you made a lucky draw, Mr. Punchett. Of course, that's just an alibi. No, no. Now, wait a minute here. You mean to say that Wyatt King claims I shot him? Huh? Well, you're the six shooter, ain't you? Well, that's who he says done it. I just couldn't believe my ears. I never laid eyes on this Wyoming kid my whole life. Oh, I'd heard plenty about him, of course. All his escapades, yet quite a reputation. Well, Sheriff Hemphill wasn't even easier to convince than the rest of the folks had been. So finally I asked him if he'd mind letting me talk to King. The fellow had shot him must have resembled me in some way. At least that's what I figured. I was certain that once we met head on, the King would see that he'd been wrong. Well, Wyatt? Huh? This the man who shot you? Why do you have to keep going over that, Sheriff? I told you he'd done it. Yeah, but Mr. Punchett here kind of disagrees with you. I sure do. Oh? Now, let's just get this thing straightened out once and for all and then we won't have any... What's the matter with you, Britt? You was ready enough to pull the trigger last night. Why are you trying to lie out of it now? Pull? Why, you... you know we've never run into each other before, last night or any other time. I got a bandage on my belly. It says different. Now take a good look at me, Wyatt. Now maybe in the dark you sort of thought that the fellow... well, maybe there was a likeness. You got a twin brother? Of course I've got no twin brother. If you ain't got a twin brother, then it was you that shot me. And it wasn't very dark either. Don't you remember the way we were standing there in the moonlight and the way you went for your gun, the same gun you're wearing right now? I sure ain't likely to forget it. Why, well, not... look here, Sheriff, now you listen to me. I don't know what's the matter with this, Kay. You must have gone loco or something, but I give you my word... Mr. Ponson, we all know how you feel about accepting honors and having folks look up to you. But this is one time you just ain't going to be able to get away with it. As a matter of fact, I believe there's some kind of a doing planned over at the town hall later on this afternoon. After the parade, that is. The parade? Oh, now you just hold on here. Now, before everybody starts tearing around in circles, I'd like to talk to Wyatt alone, if you don't mind. What for? Well, I... just give me a couple of minutes with him, Sheriff. All right, all right, but I sure don't see what you hope to gain by it. I'll have to lock in with him, though. Can't take no chances, a man like King. Give a holler when you want out. All right, King, I want the truth. Why, I ain't the one who's loco, Ponson, you are. That's a pretty big reward for me. There's a reward for the fellow who captured you. Well, as long as I keep saying you're the fellow you can collect, I'm doing you a favor. Well, maybe I don't happen to want any favor from you. Well, don't look like you've got much choice in the matter, does it? Of course, just between the two of us, now seeing you right close like that, it might have been somebody else has shot me. You know doggone well it was. Well, even if it was, even if I was mistaken about it, I sure wouldn't admit it. I don't see why not. Oh, now, Mr. Ponson, you don't think I want folks to know I was out-drawn by a little fellow with gray hair and a putt belly? Oh, how's that? A man nobody's heard of, a grocery clerk or a sodbuster. That's what he looked like to me. He even had a ready-made suit on, a coat and pants cut out of the same cloth, stiff collar, and a necktie. I never supposed a man like him would know how to use a gun. Other eyes, I'd been more careful. Well, at least we finally got down to the truth, huh? Now all you've got to do is tell the sheriff and we'll get... I'm not telling anybody else, Ponson. When I got an idea, you're telling them won't make much difference. Why? Now, as long as I keep saying it was you that shot me, and of course, that's what I'm going to say. I ain't got no choice. Well, you haven't got any reason to lie about it. Well, now, look, it's one thing to be out-shot by Britt Ponson. That ain't so hard to swallow, but the idea of being out-drawn by a nobody. Well, I wouldn't be able to face my friends again after I break out of jail. They'd all have a laugh on me. Yes, it sure was a lucky break when the sheriff came in and said you was in town. Asked if you was the one that shot me. You're not going to get away with this, can you? Well, I'm sorry if it upsets you, Ponson, but after all, I got my reputation. Yours, Sitter? Your reputation? Why, I never heard of such a thing. Sheriff, get me out of here! We'll return to James Stewart as the sick shooter in just a moment. Each year, forest fires take a tragic toll, destroying the natural resources that are vital to our nation's strength. Remember, one moment of carelessness can destroy national beauty and wealth that can never be replaced. Forest fires have been called America's most shameful waste because they can be prevented. Don't fail to do your part in preventing them. Don't be guilty of starting one. Now, Act Two of The Sick Shooter, starring James Stewart as Britt Ponson. Well, I knew that there wasn't any point in hanging around the jail trying to make Sheriff Hamphill believe what Wyatt King had told me. King was right. As long as he kept insisting that I shot him, I wasn't going to be able to convince anybody of the truth unless the man who really did shoot him. I was walking down the main street passing the bank when I remembered what King had said. A gray-haired fellow with a pot belly, wearing a ready-made suit and a stiff collar and tie. Hmm. I'd seen somebody who looked like that. I couldn't think where. Where, where was it? And then I just happened to glance into the bank. Hmm. Yes, sir, what can I do? Oh, what? You're Mr. Ponson, ain't you? That's right. By, you sure stirred up a lot of talk, Mr. Ponson. The whole town. Yeah, yeah, I know. Mr. Rowan just stepped out for a couple of minutes, but is there anything I can do? You're the teller, aren't you? Yes, sir. Uh-huh. Been with the bank for 26 years now. You don't say. The name's Jonas Pilgrim, Mr. Ponson. Ah, well, pleased to meet you, Mr. Pilgrim. Of course, if you're in a hurry for something, maybe I could find Mr. Rowan. No, no, as a matter of fact, it was you I wanted to talk to. Me? Yes. Yes. You see, I've just come from a session with Wyatt King over at the jail. Oh? And he told me about the shooting last night. Uh-huh. That's, uh, that's real interesting, Mr. Ponson, where I've got some statements to get out now, so if you don't mind, I... And King told me about the man who did it. Oh, gee. Mm-hmm. You know, it's a funny thing, Mr. Pilgrim, the description he gave me sure fits you right down to that tie you're wearing. And to come to think of it, you're just about the only person in town that does fit. I don't know what you mean, sir. Well, you don't, huh? You don't. Well, it was nice talking to you. Uh, Mr. Ponson. Yeah? Uh, you, uh, you won't mention this to anybody else. Well, I don't see what difference it makes as long as it wasn't you he was talking about. Well, it, uh, it might be kind of embarrassing. I mean, well, uh, uh... Just, what do you mean? Well, all right. All right, I'll admit it to you, Mr. Ponson, but you've got to promise me you won't tell anybody else. You've got to give me your word. You shot him, huh? I didn't intend to. I didn't even know who he was. You see, I wasn't here when he held up the bank. Oh? I was on my way back to town from Wintertallibur's ranch. I'd rid out the teller that her account was overdrawn again. Uh-huh. And this fella, he cometh me out of the dark. Told me he wanted my horse. I, I didn't even stop to think. I just grabbed my gun and let fire. I never should have done it, Mr. Ponson. I don't know what got into me. You're, you're sorry you shot a man like Wyatt King? No, no, no, not exactly, but it's kind of hard to explain. The fact is, I'm married, Mr. Ponson. Uh, hmm? And Matilda, that's my wife, Matilda's kind of particular about some things. She's real particular about me. That's why I've got to wear this doggone collar. Just cuts my neck so I can hardly stand it sometimes. Is that so? Well, uh, shame. I sure feel sorry for you, Your Honest, but I, I don't see what that's got to any connection with the... Well, now, Mr. Ponson, if, if, if, don't you see if, if Matilda knew, if I so much as carried a gun, would she just have a conniption fit? And if she were to find out that I used to be, well, kind of experienced at gunplay, why, she'd just raise the roof. I don't think that she'd ever let me get out of her sight after that. You see, I, I never told her that when I was younger I used to be sort of quick on the trigger. Ha ha ha ha ha. Oh, me doggone. Well, I take it your talents haven't exactly deserted you, huh? Well, sir, that was a doggone thing. I wouldn't even had that dang revolver with me, except that with a tolerable, had given me some money to deposit, and she was real worried about my getting it into town. All right, you see, it was old Smith's tolerable gun. She insisted on loaning it to me. I see. When this, this Wyatt King jumped up at me, well, I guess some of my old instincts must have come through. Least ways the next thing I knew he was a-laying there in the dirt not moving. Yeah, I'll be darned. Yeah. Now mind you, now mind you, I, I wasn't a gunfighter in my younger days, but I did kind of manage to shoot my way out of a few scrapes. I guess I don't look much like it now, do I? Well, a man's liable to do a certain amount of aging, I expect. Sometimes I think I've done more in my share. Well, anyway, I suppose you can see now why I don't want folks to know what happened last night about me and Wyatt King. Yeah, yeah, I guess you've got a point, Jonas. I can't go on taking the credit for what you did. What, Mr. Punchet? You give me your word on it. No, no, no, no, I didn't do any such thing. Well, you sure did. No, no, no, I didn't. Why, I wouldn't have been telling all this if I didn't. I didn't. What in tarnishing? Mr. Hawkins, Mr. Hawkins, what's all the rumpus about? Wyatt King just broke out of jail. He broke out of jail? Some darn fool forgot to lock his cell. Sheriff thinks he's heading toward Badwater Falls. Well, we're getting a posse together. For goodness sake. Well, we won't be needing you, Jonas. I'm not going to let you get away with this. Oh, no, no, no, of course not. But the sheriff was real anxious to have you come along, Mr. Punchet. Is that so? Well, I'm sorry. I won't be able to oblige. But you've already captured Wyatt once. Well, let's just say that once was enough. As a matter of fact, I'm frigging on leaving town. Which way is Badwater Falls? South, due south. Uh-huh, I'm heading north. So long. Well, inside of five minutes, the whole town of Copper Springs had ridden off in the southerly direction. The male population, that is. I guess Jonas and I were about the only two men that hadn't joined up with the sheriff's posse. In a way, I was kind of relieved that King had broken out of jail. At least I'd be able to leave town without any more of this foolishness about me capturing him. Oh, not that I ever wanted a fellow like King to go free, you understand. But I figured the posse would probably catch up to him pretty soon. He couldn't have had much of a head start. So I headed over to the livery stable to get Scar. I'd already paid for his keep in advance, but the man around the stable had gone off with the others, and I didn't feel like sticking around for the refund. Easy boy. Easy, Scar. I looked around for his saddle. It was lying on the floor over by a pile of hay, and just as I picked it up, I noticed something funny about the hay. It was starting to move. Just keep holding on to that saddle, Twonset, and don't reach for your gun. Wyatt. If you make a move, I'll ram this pitchfork right through you. Oh, you're crazy, Wyatt. You'll never get out of town. There ain't nobody left in town to stop me, except you. You got a wound in your belly. That'll stop you. Don't worry about me, Ponset. I'll make out. Now, I'm taking your gun and your horse. There are plenty of other horses here. I'm taking yours. Wyatt. Shut up, or you'll get a taste of these bros. Well, there wasn't any point in my arguing about it, not with a pitchfork digging into my chest. So I waited until he reached out a hand for my gun, and I gave that saddle a little talk. Caught him right in the middle. He went over backwards. I started to go for my holster, but Wyatt stuck out the handle of that pitchfork, and the next thing I knew, I was down on the floor beside him. He banged his fist in my face, and I felt his hands go for my throat. I managed to get up on a knee and slipped him over. I heisted myself onto my knee, but he let loose with a kick, and I went flat again. I got a glimpse of his boot coming into my face, and I just got out of the way on time. Then he missed me and almost lost his balance, and I had time to get on my feet again. I came charging in with both fists again, and one of them went past my ear, and the other one smashed into my shoulder, and I left him wide open. Well, I just couldn't leave him lying there on the floor unconscious. I figured it wouldn't be very long before he came to, so I picked him up and carted him across the street to where he belonged. Jail was completely deserted, and I wasn't assigned anybody, but the door to Wyatt's cell was unlocked, so I laid him on the cot inside and pulled the blanket up over him. I didn't want him to catch cold or anything like that, and I found the key in the front office and I locked him in. Hey, Jonas! Hold up a minute, Jonas. Mr. Pontius, what? I thought you'd left town. I'm leaving right away, Jonas, right away. That is, if you'll do me a little favor. A favor? Yeah, you're through for the day with the bank, aren't you? Oh, yes, yes, yes. We close at four o'clock sharp. I'm on my way home now. Yeah? Uh-huh. Well, I was wondering if you'd mind putting off your supper a little bit. Well, until, huh? Until the posse comes back, that is. What for, Mr. Pontius? Well, you see, I was over at the jail just a minute ago, and there's nobody over there watching things while the sheriff's out of town. I don't see what difference it makes. Wyatt King was the only prisoner and he's escaped. Yeah. But even so, you know, suppose somebody were to break in, like, they could do a lot of damage, you know? The sheriff's probably got some important papers in the file. No, Mr. Pontius. No, but you never know, Jonas. You never know about things like that. Well, I guess the sheriff should have locked up when he left. I don't see what... Well, then you won't mind holding down the fort while he's gone. Well, I... Well, as long as there aren't any prisoners to look after... I just wouldn't feel right about running off if there wasn't somebody to mind the jail. Well, Mr. Pontius, it sure seems to me like you're worrying unnecessarily, but, well, I guess I can do that much for you. Thanks, Jonas. I really appreciate it. All I have to do is sit in the front office if somebody shows up. All right, Mr. Pontius, I'll get right over there. Go on, Jonas. Good luck to you. Oh, Mr. Pontius. May I? I... I... I hope you aren't put out about my letting folks think it was you who shot Wyatt King last night. Oh, I guess I'll get over it. After all, sometimes it is best if a man takes a responsibility for something, even if he hasn't done it himself. Why? Oh. Oh, yeah. Yeah, I guess that's... Well, I'll be saying, yeah. I'll tell you what, I got out of Copper Springs as fast as I could. I just wasn't sure how things were going to work out, but then a couple of weeks later, a copy of the Copper Springs press caught up with me, and there was Jonas Pilgrim's picture all over the front page. Yes, sir. Great big article telling how his sheriff and his posse had come back to town without finding a trace of Wyatt, and there he was, right in the jail. And there was Jonas Pilgrim snoozing in the front office, calm as a cucumber. Mother's Pilgrim, that's what the paper called, Jonas. He said he'd tried to deny having anything to do with Wyatt's capture, but the folks in Copper Springs, they just hadn't believed him. Well, it was plain as day that he'd taken Wyatt single-handed. Well, like Jonas said, sometimes it's best for a man to take the responsibility of a thing even if he hasn't done it. The Six Shooter is a transcribed NBC radio network production in association with Review Productions. It is written by Frank Burt and is based on a character created by him. Mr. Stewart may currently be seen in the Universal International Picture, the Glenn Miller story. Others in the cast were Bill Johnstone, Herb Bygren, Junious Matthews, Barney Phillips, and Joel Cranston. 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. The Donald Carey stars in Jason and the Golden Fleece tonight on the NBC Radio Network.
