Around Dodge City and in the territory on west, there is just one way to handle the killers and the spoilers, and that's with the U.S. Marshal and the smell of gun smoke.
Gun Smoke, starring William Conrad, the 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 chancy job, and it makes a man watchful and a little lonely.
I declare I don't know what's got in him, Mr. Dillon.
Who, Chester?
Well, the President, President Grant.
Oh, what's he done now?
Well, letting them fellas take out a patent on that there, Bob Wiley, that's just going to be the ruination of this country.
So what's the President got to do with it? He can't stop it.
He can't? Well, then what's the good of him being President?
Just read your paper, Chester.
Bob Wiley. Well, them British foreigners fighting again. The Russos, what the...
Now what?
But he started a ruse.
Now they're in a long branch, Mr. Dillon.
Yeah, come on.
Matt, Matt, point and roll. Stop them.
All right, Chester. All right, come on, hold up.
Get him holding.
Get him holding, Marshal, get him holding.
Take hold of the other one, Chester, will you?
All right, now Ambrose, get up from there.
All right, son, come on, get on your feet.
All right, you don't have to break my arm.
Now what's this all about, Ambrose? I thought you and Cully were friends.
I did too, Marshal, but none no more.
What started it?
I was only joking. Cully can't even take a joke.
Next time I won't use my fists, Ambrose. I'll come wearing a gun. You wait.
Not in Dodge you won't. The next time I catch you two fighting, either one of you, I'll show you the inside of the jail.
You want to shake hands?
What for?
I had a belly full of his crazy temper.
I'm gooding through.
Oh, what about that, Cully?
Well, what about it, Marshal?
Come on over to the bar, Matt. I'll buy you a drink for keeping my place from being smashed.
Okay, Kitty, that sounds like fair payment.
You too, Chester.
Oh, thank you, Miss Kitty.
I don't know what got into that Cully tape lately.
He was always polite as could be when he used to come into town with his mother.
His mother's dead three, four years now.
Look, now he's at the bar ordering a drink.
I think maybe I'll have a talk with him, Kitty. Maybe I can find out what's wrong.
Yeah, sure, Matt.
There you are, Sam. I'll pay for his drink.
What's that?
For almost breaking your arm, you said.
Go on, drink it.
Sure. Thanks.
You know, when a man's old enough to drink hard liquor, he's old enough to get in trouble, Cully.
Now, what was it about?
That person.
It always is. Until it's a public fight.
And it's my business.
And it's my business.
Yeah, he...
He said something about my old man.
What about me?
Well, what?
He called us squaw men.
Squaw men? For what?
Because it's true. That's the worst of it.
About my old man, it's true, anyways.
Oh, since when?
Three months.
When he went to Texas for stock and stopped at the agency in Darlington,
he brought her back.
And I wrapped the whole woman.
Now, that ain't right, Marshall.
It just ain't right.
Now, wait a minute, Cully.
A good many men have married Indian women, and sometimes they're real good marriages.
Good!
Any man who marries one of them deserves to be called squaw men.
Look, Cully, your ma's been dead some years now.
You're old enough to know how it is with a man.
Him moonin' over her.
Him old enough to be her father.
She's more my age than his.
Well, that's not unusual with Indians.
The women expect it.
Well, the worst is they ain't really married.
Only Indian style.
And for a good God-fearin' man, that ain't nothin' at all.
Now, wait a minute, son. They are married.
Maybe not legally, but if they both accept it...
And if they don't, what could she do about it?
Cully, I know your father, and Hardeman Tate isn't that kind of a man.
Now, do you want me to talk to him?
No.
I wouldn't. You're no good.
Well, he wouldn't send her back, no, but he might marry her legally.
You'd be bad at health.
Thanks for the drink, Mush.
Well, sir, holidays come and go, and we don't always give much mind.
But there is one that most everybody takes time for.
Of course, it brings out a little human goodness and friendliness for a spell, person to person.
That's why the post office made up this special 1966 stamp I got in my album here,
honorin' the spirit of Christmas.
Oh, I like this one. Yes, sir.
This stamp's from a fine paintin' of that first Christmas way back
that's in the National Art Gallery in Washington, D.C.
It's the fifth one in a series marking the holiday season,
and it comes out, rightly enough, in the town of Christmas, Michigan.
Well, of course, we all enjoy the family gatherings, the gift given, and the fun that goes with it.
But the real thing is that the idea kind of spreads around all over.
There's a Muslim festival, same time of year, called Edolphit.
The Jewish people celebrate Hanukkah, and the Buddhists have the Festival of Lights.
And lots of Hindus make Christmas a time of goodwill.
Well, I guess it's not what you call it, but what you do about it that counts.
Well, these two picked a nice day to ride this far, gettin' on spring.
Looks like good grass this year. Yeah, we've had some rain.
Nice barn they got up there, ain't it?
Mm-hmm. I don't think much so. Mr. Dillon, I just remember Miss Tate, what was she like?
Alchester, she came from a long line of puritan ministers, and she never lets you forget it.
Sort of a deliverance for Mr. Tate then, wasn't it?
You might say so, yeah.
Seems like a mighty big jump, though, to a rap host squaw.
That does, doesn't it?
Look, there's Cully out in front. And look at that, he's toting a gun,
just like you said he would.
Uh-huh. Now, come on, we'll ride up anyway.
Well, Marshal. Cully.
So you decided to come anyway. Yeah, that's right.
Your father here? Inside, with her. You go on and talk to him if you want.
I got chores to do.
Well, Mr. Dillon, that boy ain't got a bit of toleration in him at all, huh?
He's got a lot of his mother in him, though.
Well, Marshal and Chester, this surprise. How are you?
Just fine, Mr. Tate. Good to see you, Hardy.
Come on in and sit. Now to see you just fixing the meal.
Now tell her to add a little bit of pot.
No, no, thanks, Hardy. We can't stay. We just want to talk to you for a minute, that's all.
Has Cully got himself in trouble? Oh, no, no, no. There's nothing like it.
He's got so wild and unruly lately, I don't know what to expect.
I can't figure what's eaten on him.
Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about, Hardy.
I guess the boy's like his mother in some ways.
Oh, Cully's pious, that's sure, just like Abigail.
Since she died, I don't go to church like I ought, I guess, and it makes the boy mad.
Is that what you mean, Marshal? I'm afraid it's more than that, Hardy.
I think he's upset about your wife.
I know that, Marshal, but that's green nuts to family. It ain't none of your business.
Well, I don't want to butt in. I didn't have that in mind.
I just got a suggestion that might be of help to you, that's all.
What?
Bring her into town, let the Reverend Tucker marry you.
We're already married.
In the Arapaho way, huh? Yes, in the Arapaho way.
Yeah, but Hardy, that's not legal, not for whites.
What's that got to do with it?
Look, Hardy, you bought her from her father. Now that's against the law.
You're living with her without benefit of marriage. That's against the law.
Now, legally, I could and I should send her back to Darlington right now.
Oh, Marshal, you wouldn't.
Oh, now please understand, Hardy. I'm trying to help you.
If the girl is willing, marrying her will solve a lot of problems.
Now, if she isn't, then I'm going to have to send her back anyway.
You can't send her back, Marshal.
Well, why not?
Come inside, both of you, please.
All right.
Nadesia.
Yes?
Come.
She's awful pretty, Mr. Dill.
Yeah.
This is my wife, Nadesia, little dear woman.
This is Marshal Dillan, Chester Crowfoot.
How you doing, ma'am?
Glad to know you, Miss Tate.
Yes, glad.
She don't know much English and I don't speak the rapable very good,
but we're both of us learning, little by little.
You come eat?
Well, no, thanks, Miss Tate. We've got to get on back to Dodge.
I cook, good.
Yes, ma'am, I bet you do.
Miss Tate, I'd like to ask you a question.
Do you like it here? Do you want to stay here with him?
I...I like here.
I stay.
My husband.
All right, Nadesia. You go back to the kitchen.
Your friends. Come more?
Well, sure, sure. We'll be back.
You bet. Goodbye, Miss Tate.
Yes.
Yeah, you see what I mean?
Yeah.
She's everything a man could want.
You sound pretty happy, Hardy.
I never knew the meaning of that word before.
Oh, I don't mean no disrespect to Cully's mother, but...
Oh, no, I understand.
You won't send her back?
Look, Hardy, it'd still be better if you came to town
and let the Reverend marry you.
All right, Marshal.
If you'll arrange it, we'll come in Saturday.
Well, good, good.
Tell you what, we might even have a party after the wedding, huh?
By jing, that's a good idea.
By gallish, he'd like that, I bet.
Thank you, Marshal.
Sure.
Goodbye, Hardy.
Goodbye.
We'll see you Saturday.
Well, now, wasn't that a surprise?
A poor little thing like that and him so happy and all.
Boy, it wasn't nothing like I'd thought to hear Cully talk was it, Mr. Jones.
No, no, it wasn't, Chester.
You want to know something?
That's kind of what bothers me.
Hometowns in America have a lot in common, and yet they're each one of a kind.
Take, for example, Louisa, Kentucky.
Boating's the big thing on the big sandy, and more boaters are rushing to the water each summer.
But the heritage of Louisa is more than just water.
Some of the Civil War came right through here,
and Louisa's proud of the late Chief Justice Fred Vinson,
who was born there, who lived there, and who's buried there.
And with Louisa, the county seat of Lawrence County,
they're proud, too, of the new courthouse, which rose in place of the old one a few years back.
People stay busy in Louisa, constructions booming in High Bottom,
the Rotary still meeting Tuesdays in the basement of the First Methodist Church,
and when nothing else is doing, you can usually find one of the gang watching an oil change
at Funny Miller's garage next door to Economy Chevrolet.
But if your hometown is Louisa, you already know this.
We only wanted to remind you, it's still there.
...
...
Hello, Mr. Dillon. Doc.
Chester.
Ah, that's you. You look like the cat that swallowed a canary.
Well, Doc, you ought to see. I've been over at the Long Branch,
and this kiddy's got everything ready for the party.
The preacher's wife even baked a cake.
There are more important elements, Chester.
Huh?
You can't have a wedding without a bride and groom, Chester.
Well, my gracious, no.
Oh, see, it's after three o'clock now, and there's no sign of them yet.
Now you think there's something wrong, Mr. Dillon?
I don't know. Doc and I were just talking about it.
Marshall.
Oh, come in, Reverend, come in.
Thanks. Hello, Chester.
Doc, how are you, sir?
You haven't seen them?
No, I haven't.
Well, Marshall, I'm getting worried. They wouldn't just not show up.
Well, they could have changed their minds.
They'd come up out of a wedding. I doubt it.
I hope nothing's happened.
Well, if they were coming, they'd have been here by now.
I think maybe Chester and I better write out to the take place
and see if there's anything wrong.
All right, hold it, Chester.
No, you don't.
Oh, it's you, Marshall.
Who'd you think it was, Cully?
Well, he's all bled.
What's happened here? What's wrong?
How'd you get those scratches on your face?
She done it after I found him.
She tried to kill me, Marshall.
What?
Just like she killed Paul.
When did this happen?
This morning.
Just before they was to leave for town.
Why didn't you come and tell me about it?
Oh, I was scared, Marshall.
She's out there somewhere and she wants to kill me.
I was waiting for Doc.
Where's your gun?
Well, she's got it.
That's what she killed him with.
How'd she get it?
I must have... I must have stole it from my room, I guess.
All I know, I heard the shot, I run out and she had the gun
and I wrestled it away from her.
That's when she scratched my face.
And he was laying there, dead.
Where?
Out back, in the wood lot.
All right, let's go out there.
No, no, Marshall, I don't want to go out there again.
I don't want to see him.
You better come anyway, come on.
Look, there's a fire.
Why do I have to mistake?
Now what does she want with a fire like that?
I don't know.
Well, she's young, looks like she's praying.
It's a death song, Chester.
It's an Arapaho song of mourning.
Oh, but I don't see...
Up above, Chester, in the tree there.
Well, I don't...
She's giving him a regular Indian burial.
Marshall!
You stay right with us, Cullen.
There's the gun, Chester.
Yes, sir.
Thank God.
She don't even seem to notice us.
Miss Tate.
Miss Tate.
Dead.
Dead.
My husband.
Do you know him?
Look.
Yeah, I see.
You got something for a bandage, Chester.
What is it?
What's the meaning?
You...
You got it!
Miss Tate.
Miss Tate.
Here, give me that knife.
Give it to me.
Chester.
Yes, sir.
Here, now.
Miss Tate, you just say it.
Dead.
My husband.
Yes, ma'am.
Cully.
What?
I want to ask you about those scratches on your face, Cully.
Weren't they made before and not after your father died?
What?
And when she scratched you, she was probably screaming, wasn't she?
No.
And your father heard and he came running to find out what you were trying to do and you
shot him.
You're wrong.
All right, maybe it was self-defense.
Maybe he would have killed you or hurt you bad, but you shot him first, didn't you?
No.
No.
Well, a young girl like that with an old man, that ain't natural.
She hated him.
No, she didn't hate him.
She loved him.
She could never have loved you.
That ain't true.
Yes, it is.
Because an Arapaho woman doesn't mourn a husband she doesn't love.
And if she didn't love him, she wouldn't have cut off two of her fingers.
As soon as we get our bandaged up, we'll take you in to dodge.
I only meant to show him that she was no good.
To show him how wrong he was.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
Do you believe that, Mr. Dole?
No, Chester.
I think maybe he does.
With your permission, I'd like to quote an excerpt from a speech by that old political character Elijah Cuddleston.
And I say, state and declare, that is, that pork barrel appropriations are not going to be our salvation.
We must, I say, we have to get up on our hind legs.
I mean, you stand up and fight for our own improvements.
The pork barrel is for lopers.
I mean, the greedy and the weak, that is.
That term pork barrel, you know what it means?
Well, pork is fat, and fat for hundreds of years has meant plenty, abundance.
Ye shall eat the fat of the land.
About a hundred years ago in the halls of Congress, fat, meaning lucrative or rewarding, became pork.
And about fifty years ago, when congressmen sought larger appropriations for such things as bridges,
harbor or river improvements, public buildings and so forth to impress their constituents,
they were accused of seeking pork barrel appropriations.
Gun Smoke, produced and directed by Norman MacDonald, stars William Conrad as Matt Dillon, U.S. Marshal.
Featured in the cast were Parley Bear as Chester, Howard McNear as Doc, and Georgia Ellis as Kitty.
George Walsh speaking.
Join us again next week for another specially transcribed story on Gun Smoke.
This is the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service.