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Around Dodge City and in the territory on west, there's just one way to handle the killers
and the spoilers, and that's with a U.S. Marshal and the smell of Gun Smoke.
Gun Smoke, starring William Conrad, the transcribed story of the violence that moved west with
young America and the story of a man who moved with it.
I'm that man, Matt Dillon, United States Marshal, the first man they look for and the last they
want to meet.
It's a chancey job and it makes a man watchful and a little lonely.
Well, my goodness, now, if that sure don't beat all.
What's the matter, Chester?
Odie Perkins, coming down the street there with a mat on so thick you can feel it right
through the window.
Oh.
What, he's not a man to get tempered easy?
Well, he sure is now, Mr. Dillon.
He's a doggone rile, he's leaving a blue streak behind him.
It's a gospel truth, look.
I can't be anything serious.
Marshal Dillon.
Ah, morning, Odie.
Marshal, I'm here to call on the power and protection of the law and all its majesty
and might.
Eh, well, that's a pretty tall order, Odie.
You got some reason for needing the law?
Reason?
I got reasons that go back as far as 15 years.
Marshal, I want to swear out a complaint, an injunction, a bench warrant, whatever it
is it takes to get a certain lowlife scum evicted from the premises, run out of Dodge,
banished from the territory, and horsewhipped to boot, if you can work it in somehow.
Well, what's a certain person done, Odie, to deserve that kind of...
It ain't what he's done as much as what he is.
And I ought to know that long before this, but he sure had me fooled.
Uh-huh.
You're not by any chance talking about...
I'm talking about Brace McCoy, that's who I'm talking about.
And I even hate to let his sneaky name soil my lips.
Yeah, but, Odie, you and Brace have been partners as long as I can remember.
Oh, not no more.
We ain't not since this morning.
Marshal, I want him thrown clean off the place.
Now, wait a second, Odie.
As I recall, you boys took up that homestead as joint tenants, huh?
Brace has got as much right there as you have.
Well, Marshal...
Yeah, come in, Brace.
We were just talking about...
I want to get a fellow strewed off of my property, Marshal, and that's a fact.
You're referring to Odie Perkins here, huh?
That's a fellow, Marshal, but him and me ain't speaking, and that's a fact.
You're gone darn tootin', we ain't.
Not now, nor never.
Now, shine the papers now, if you'll just read them up.
I'll remind you, Marshal, I come here first.
Fixing papers for Odie wouldn't be no use, no how.
Little Barman can't write, and that's a fact.
I can make as good an axe as you can.
I mean, he can.
Now, wait a minute.
Just look at him, Marshal.
He ought to be ashamed of himself.
Great big blubbermouth that outweighs me twice again, and he comes in here sniveling for
the law to help him out.
Just a minute.
He keeps prodding me, and I'm gonna whop him good, and that's a fact.
Not while I'm wearing this here six-gon.
You ain't gonna whop nobody.
I mean, he ain't gonna.
Will you shut up, both of you?
Now, who started all this, Rockers?
It's personal, Marshal.
Me, I'd rather not say.
Uh-huh.
Well, that's just fine.
For fifteen years, you've ridden together, finally took up land together, and all of
a sudden, you start sidling around with your hackles up, ready to throw lead at one another.
And you won't even say why, huh?
You just get in particular who I live with, is all.
I want him out of my house, Marshal.
Now, get this straight, both of you.
You own that farm jointly, and I got no legal reason to throw either one of you off.
So until you settle your differences or sell out, you're gonna make the best of it.
I already offered to buy him out.
I ain't budging, and that's a fact.
All right.
If you can't settle it yourselves, I'll settle it for you.
Chester.
Yes, sir?
Will you hand me those cards over there?
This one.
Here you are, Mr. Dillon.
Yeah.
Now, as I recall, you've got a fair to middle in the house out there and a mighty good barn.
Until you sell, you gotta stay on the place to take care of the stock.
All right.
Now, one of you lives in the house and the other one in the barn, and you'll leave each
other alone.
Is that completely clear?
All right, brace your cut first.
High card takes his choice.
Well, all right.
Ten.
That's good.
It ain't as good as a queen.
All right, what's your choice, Odie?
The barn.
It smells better than McCoy.
Odie, you come around my house and I'll break you in half.
That's a fact.
Step one foot in my barn, I'll blast you full of holes.
Now, remember what I told you both of you.
You leave each other alone.
I better get back out of my house.
Good day.
I'll be going to my barn now, Marshal.
Much obliged.
Why don't you stand in the breeze a little while, Odie?
You might cool off a little.
Well, I declare, if that don't beat all, I guess it ain't nothing serious, O.
It's not like I'm trusting.
I'm afraid it is serious.
I just hope it don't get more so.
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Oh, hello, Kitty.
Well, you're as welcome as a... a hundred moon through a tamarack bush.
What?
Now, you sound like a singing chief of the Cherokees.
No, Gaius.
That's her tribe.
Whose tribe?
Summer Dubs.
She spent the afternoon helping me sew costumes.
Summer Dubs?
You remember her, Matt.
She's that Indian girl who left the reservation last spring and came into town to work for
Moss Smalley at the Borden House.
Oh, oh yeah, sure.
I remember.
She's a good seamstress.
A real good cook, too, I hear.
Huh?
Yeah, she's sort of lost since Moss Smalley went back east.
Hey, look.
She did most of the work on this costume.
Do you like it?
Uh, well, it doesn't look like that one took much sewing, Kitty.
This is the kind where the sewing's important.
Yeah, I guess a lot depends on it.
How about having a drink with me?
I tasted the morning wind from the south and my heart beats the lark song.
What's that?
It means I'll have a drink with you.
Oh, OK.
Oh, wait a minute, Kitty.
Matt?
Yeah, what's the matter, Doc?
Well, man, I just drove in from up towards the flat and I passed the McCoy Perkins farm
on the way.
Yeah?
You'd better get out there, man, before those two kill each other.
What do you mean?
Why, they got a confounded war going on.
One of them's barricaded in the barn, the other's holed up in the house, and they're
firing bullets back and forth so fast it sounds like the Battle of Shiloh.
Uh, I haven't heard from them for three days.
I was hoping maybe they'd cooled off by now.
Cooled off?
They didn't sound very cool when I came by.
Now, Kitty, it looks like you'll have to stretch out that lark song a little, huh?
It's all right, Matt.
OK.
Some other time.
My jing, Mr. Dillon, I never realized it was so far out here.
Doc wasn't putting on none about it.
Doggone if it don't sound like Shiloh.
Lame fools.
You'd think they were old enough to have better sense.
Now, that's just too doggone close for comfort.
I'll comfort him.
Rain out, Chessie.
Ho, ho.
Cody!
Bryce!
Matt Dillon, hold your fire, both of you!
All right, come on, Chessie.
Let's go over to the barn first.
Cody, you in there?
You're darn chumpin', I am, Herschel.
That big hunk of buzzard bait ain't about to dislodge me, neither.
I am, though.
I'll give you just five seconds to get that door open and come out here.
Now, wait, Matt.
You'll hurt me, Cody.
OK.
I wasn't the one that started it.
You better take his gun and keep him covered.
I sure will, Mr. Dillon.
Bryce!
What do you want?
You gonna open that door or you want me to shoot it open?
Now, Martial, I'll open it.
Ain't no call to get all hanged up, and that's a fact.
All right, I'll take your gun, Bryce, and that's a fact.
Here, give it to him.
All right, come on out here.
I was only defending myself, Martial.
That scrawny little weasel started it all.
Martial, don't you believe nothing?
Bryce says he was born a liar.
Shut up, Cody.
Well, I guess the only thing to do is to see if you two can manage to get along in separate
jail cells.
I'm putting you both under arrest for disturbing the peace.
Now, wait just a minute.
What do you mean?
Ain't nobody around here, Martial.
Whose peace we disturbing?
Mine.
Who?
Come on, let's go.
Let's go.
Come on, let's go.
What's the matter, man?
I'm just a little scared.
That's what I thought.
It's no big deal.
Come on, let's go.
Come on, let's go.
Come on.
Come on, let's go.
Come on.
Come on, let's go.
Come on, let's go.
Let's go.
Come on.
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So light up, free up, let your taste come alive.
Live modern, smoke L&M.
Make today your big red letter day and start to live the modern way.
Live, live, live modern.
Get L&M today.
Oh, that's Doc's buggy tied up there, Mr. Doon.
Must be waiting for us in the office.
Yeah.
Oh, good morning, Matt.
Morning, Doc.
Hey, Chester.
Hello, Doc.
Well, I've got an hour to kill, Matt.
Just time to beat the socks off of you in a game of chess.
The board's all set up and...
Oh, good, Doc.
Let me take a look at my prisoners first, huh?
Who is it, Matt?
Odie Perkins and Brace McCoy.
Is that so?
Yeah, I'll be right back.
Ah, morning, boys.
Morning.
Marshal.
Well, how about it?
You about ready to stop feuding?
Sure.
Brace will get himself off my property, I will.
I ain't even the budge, Marshal, and that's a fact.
You can't like it here, huh?
Man can't go back on his principles, Marshal.
He ain't got no more principles than a hungry Kyle.
All right, that's enough.
You act like a couple of wet roosters.
You can't even remember what the whole thing started about.
I remember it.
I'll tell you what it started about, Marshal.
It started because Brace didn't figure I was fancying his vittles up enough to suit him.
For a whole week, Marshal, he didn't fix nothing but flapjacks in the morning and hominy grits at night.
With side meat in them.
Blank side meat, with sour belly and a warm fatigue.
You know what he done, Marshal, when I put them grits on the table,
he throwed them on the floor and tromped all over them with his boots on.
That's all he was fit for.
I wouldn't throw vittles like that to the hog.
I've seen many a day you'd be glad for.
Now, wait a minute. Is this the truth? Is this what this whole thing's all about?
Well, it's what it started about.
But it ain't what it's about now. Not anymore, it ain't, Marshal.
No, sir. It's a lot more than that now.
I come to realize I've been keeping a viper in my bosom.
You can be minding a mistake about a man, Marshal, and that's a fact.
Yeah. But you two thought well of each other for years.
It seems to me a friendship like that ought to last over at least one fool argument.
Brace McCoy ain't no friend of mine, not no more of you.
Once I get out of this cell, I'm going to whop that little gopher to an inch of his life.
Right across the sights of my gun. That's how I want to feel.
All right, boys. All right. Just settle back.
Looks like you're going to have plenty of time to think up names to call each other.
Marshal. Yeah?
How long you aim to keep us in this miserable old jailhouse?
You got some sense.
They're die of old age.
How they making out, man?
Like a pair of Tomcats, Doc.
I don't know what I'm going to do with them. I can't keep them locked up forever.
For two nice fellows like them, they sure did turn mean all of a sudden.
If you ask me, they're both probably aching to make up.
Yeah. I've been thinking along those same lines, Doc.
Seems to me they could have killed each other out there on the farm if they'd really been trying to.
Of course they could. Why, they must have fired over a hundred rounds at each other.
Yeah, but if I let them out, they'll either kill each other by accident or kill somebody else.
Unless they could...
Yeah.
Uh, Chester. Yes, sir?
There's an Indian woman named Summer Dove somewhere around town. Kitty can tell you where she is.
Go find her and get her over here as soon as you can, will you?
All right, Mr. Dillon.
Boys, this is Summer Dove.
Uh, these are the two men I was telling you about, Summer Dove.
The short, skinny one is Odie Perkins and the fat one's Brace McCoy.
How do.
Howdy, Mr. Dove.
How do you know, you man?
Summer Dove's one of the best cooks in Ford County, boys.
Ma Smalley taught her, huh?
So?
Now, she needs a place to live.
She'll work for her keep.
What are you getting at, Marshal?
Well, you boys got a place out there that you're not using that lean to against the barn and might be fixed up pretty comfortable.
Like I said, Summer Dove's a mighty fine cook.
All right. I'd be proud to hire on Miss Summer Dove, Marshal,
providing you fix it to keep that ornery sidewinder away from my property.
How sidewinder you is?
Brace, you come within 20 yards of me. You better come as you...
All right, boys, hold it.
Well, Summer Dove, these are the two men I thought you might like to work for, or one of them more likely.
One man, two men, makes no difference.
All right. Uh, wait out in the office for me, will you?
Me go.
Yeah.
Boys, if you can't come to any agreement, it looks like there's only one way to settle this.
What you got there, Marshal?
Your guns.
I figure you couldn't kill each other out there at the farm because you had too much cover, but here it's different.
What are you doing, Marshal?
I'm putting your guns on the floor of your cells, but neither one of you touch them now, or I'm out of here.
Now, wait just a minute.
I don't like this, Marshal, and that's a fact.
There's nothing between you now but an eight-foot corridor and open bars.
Now, you get it settled, boys, one way or the other.
I'll be in my office.
Yeah. Let me see.
Yeah, I think that'll do it.
Oh!
Mate, Duck.
Ah, gone you, Matt. Oh, that was a sneaky move. Yes, it was, if I ever saw it.
Yeah, it was.
I swear I can't get over it, Mr. Dillon.
Odie and Brace walking out of here that way, arm in arm, like there had never been no crossword between them.
Well, it's like Duck said, Chester. They were anxious enough to make up. All they needed was a push.
Well, you sure did take a big chance, though, giving them their guns back.
Ah, they didn't want to kill each other. Somebody just had to make them realize it, that's all.
I wasn't taking much chance.
He sure wasn't, Chester. Not the way he did it.
Ah, Chester, you can ride out there tomorrow and take these guns to him, if you will, and see if Summerdaw's got herself settled out.
All right, Mr. Dillon. What do you mean, Duck? Not the way he did it.
Just that, Chester. Matt doesn't take any chances.
You don't call that taking a chance when they might have killed each other?
Not with the blanks he made and putting their guns.
The blanks? He made blanks?
Sure, like those actors use on the stage.
Why?
Of course, I figured what he was up to. He didn't fool me, any.
Well, you sure fooled me, Mr. Dillon. I was sitting here on pins and needles just waiting for the sound of death.
Oh, you're uneasy, Mark Chester.
You know, Duck, I was pretty sure about those fellows all the time.
You were?
Yeah. You see that whiskey bottle out there?
Of course I see it.
Why?
Blanks, Duck?
In a Moment, Our Star, William Conrad.
The world may indeed be shrinking and people abroad are next door neighbors,
but there's still a lot of misconception and confusion on both sides of the ocean between these new neighbors.
It's the kind of misconception and confusion that we're all used to.
And it's the kind of confusion that we're all used to.
But there's still a lot of misconception and confusion on both sides of the ocean between these new neighbors.
It's the kind of misconception and confusion that's cleared up best of all by personal contact, the contact of letters, for instance.
There are many men and women abroad who realize they get a false impression of our country from local sources.
They are eager to be in correspondence with individuals in this country.
They're sure that in the easy give and take of letters, they'd find out what Americans are really like,
how they really work and live.
If you're interested in writing to one of those Europeans,
send your name with a stamped, self-addressed envelope to Letters Abroad, 45 E. 65th Street, New York, New York.
That's Letters Abroad, 45 E. 65th Street, New York, New York.
Include information about your age, occupation, and interests to help toward the selection of a suitable correspondent for you.
And now, William Conrad.
You know, there weren't too many formal burials on the frontier.
Usually the dead man was just wrapped in his saddle blanket and laid away on Boothill.
However, next week, Dodge City watches a formal burial while the coffin contains nothing but rocks.
And that was the West.
Gunsmoke, produced and directed by Norman MacDonald, stars William Conrad as Matt Dillon, U.S. Marshal.
The script was specially written for Gunsmoke by Les Crutchfield, with editorial supervision by John Meston.
The music was composed and conducted by Rex Corey.
Sound patterns by Ray Kemper and Bill James.
Featured in the cast were Vic Perrin, Barney Phillips, and Peggy Ray.
Harley Bear is Chester, Howard McMear is Doc, and Georgia Ellis is Kitty.
Join us again next week for another specially transcribed story on Gunsmoke.
Thank you for watching!