03x23 - Wyatt Earp Rides Shotgun

Episode transcripts for the TV show, "The Life & Legend of Wyatt Earp". Aired: September 6, 1955 – June 27, 1961.*
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Series is loosely based on the life of frontier marshal Wyatt Earp.
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03x23 - Wyatt Earp Rides Shotgun

Post by bunniefuu »

The Life and Legend

of Wyatt Earp

- You sure that's Wyatt Earp

down there riding shotgun?

- Wells Fargo advertised he's

going to take that stage through

to Hays, Kansas.

There's the ad.

Read it yourself.

- The point is, what are

we gonna do about Earp?

- Gonna k*ll him

and rob the stage.

- You mean take all the boys

and ride down there

and blast him, huh?

- No. This time we're gonna

use an old Injun trick.

Earp won't die right away.

But in the end he'll

be just as dead.

♪♪ Oh, Wyatt Earp

Wyatt Earp ♪

♪ Brave, courageous and bold ♪

♪ Long live his fame

and long live his glory ♪

♪ And long may

his story be told ♪♪

- Wyatt's old friend and former

employer Wells Fargo and Co.

operated an important stage line

connecting the

Santa Fe at Dodge City

with the Union Pacific

at Hays, Kansas.

A hundred miles of wilderness

stretched between

the two railroads.

It was a natural hunting ground

for the stage robbers,

and in the Pervis

g*ng moved south

to prey upon the shipments

of money and bullion

entrusted to Wells Fargo.

- Packing g*ns...

drunk and disorderly

in the street...

fist fighting.

Anything else?

- Yeah. This one

resisted arrest.

- That's probably

more days for you.

Well howdy, Mr. Tom Russell!

- Howdy, Wyatt!

- Mr. Masterson,

put 'em in the cell.

Come on back

for the pow-wow.

- Yes, sir. Let's go.

- Ah, you're looking

in pretty good shape.

- Feel pretty good.

- Wells Fargo never

thinks of me anymore

unless you're in

some kind of trouble.

Now what brings a

chief special agent

all the way

from San Francisco?

- The whole Pervis g*ng is

camped at your back door.

- Hmm. Sit down.

Now, they're operating in

Hodgeman and Pawnee counties,

aren't they?

- Yeah, I know it

isn't your territory.

So the company forgives you.

- Heh! Well, that's nice.

Hey, that's a mighty

handsome ring you got there.

New, isn't it?

- Oldtimer's ring.

The company just started

awarding them.

- Oldtimer's ring, huh?

I like the design.

- You stamp it in

red wax on a letter,

and the big chief

himself reads it.

And all the power and glory of

Wells Fargo is at my command.

- Ha! Well, I'm an oldtimer.

They ought to give me one.

- Maybe they will.

- What's the catch?

- Find me a map of Kansas,

Wyatt. I'll show you.

- All right.

- And you know, we're supposed

to be like the Texas Rangers.

Touch a Wells Fargo stage,

and if it takes

years, we'll get you.

- We always do, Mr. Tom.

- That sure makes for

a lot of long chases, though.

- Ah, that's just the

point, Mr. Masterson.

The Pervis outfit

are real rough boys.

They don't scare easy.

- Hard men, huh?

- Wyatt and I were joshing

before you came in.

He wants an oldtimer's

ring like this one.

- Very nice.

- I told him there'd be a catch.

- Yeah, what is it?

- Ride shotgun on one of our

stages. North to Hays.

And let us advertise

in the local paper

that you're

going to do it.

- Well, wait a minute!

Wyatt'd be asking for trouble.

- Yes, he would.

- I can think of a

lot more sensible ways

of you getting k*lled.

- Mr. Russell's got the

makings of a good idea.

I'm your man

on one condition.

You and Mr. Masterson follow

behind me with a posse.

- How close?

- Ten miles.

- What good would that do? You'd

be dead and the money gone--

- Mr. Masterson, I'm

asking Wells Fargo

to do me a big favor.

- A posse.

I don't quite understand why.

- I want the Pervis

g*ng caught.

If they do jump the stage,

you'll be close enough behind

to pick up a fresh trail.

Not years from now, either.

- All right, Wyatt.

I'll wire the main office and

see if I can get permission.

And don't let Mr. Masterson

talk you out of it.

I'll be at the hotel, Wyatt.

- Right. See you later.

- You and Wells Fargo...

Do they got a mortgage

on you or something?

- No. I owe them,

Mr. Masterson.

They gave me a job when

I was nothing but a kid.

They trusted me with

passengers, teams, and money.

Why do you think you owe me?

- Well, it's...

That's different.

- No.

I took you on when you were

just years old as a deputy.

- Yeah, but that's personal.

Wells Fargo is a big company.

- No, sir.

It's a fine name.

They got a great reputation.

They fought for law and order

on trails that you never rode,

and in towns that

you've never heard of.

- All right.

But look, will you make the

distance to the posse miles?

- Well, Pervis and his g*ng

would see the dust at miles.

You'd scare him off.

- Ten miles.

And I promise to give you

a decent Christian burial.

- Well, that's very nice

of you, Mr. Masterson.

- Twenty, twenty, twenty...

Wells Fargo and

their $ bills!

I'm gonna write

their president

and tell them to send their

payroll shipments in hundreds!

[ All laugh ]

- Hey, Danny.

- Oh, shut up! You made

me lose my place!

- This pile, Danny.

- This is something

you ought to see.

- A newspaper?

I never read 'em.

- You better read this one.

They hired Wyatt Earp

to ride shotgun.

- Wyatt Earp?

- "A regular stage bound for

Hays and northern points

"will leave Dodge City at

: am as usual tomorrow.

"Marshal Wyatt Earp

will ride shotgun.

"The stage will carry

men passengers only

"and they will ride

at their own risk.

Wells Fargo and Company."

- You know, Danny, if

Wyatt Earp is ridin' shotgun,

there must be an awful

lot of money on that stage.

- You got a brain.

Of course there's

a lot of money on it!

Twenty... twenty...

Twenty...

- Now, Mr. Masterson,

I want you to give us exactly

a one hour head start.

You'll be travelling

faster than us,

so I want you to make

check stops here...

Jones Hill here, right at

the beginning of the narrows,

making time allowances.

Now, we all know the

schedule of the stage.

I have a firm agreement

with Wells Fargo Company

to keep that posse miles

back at all times.

You understand that?

- Yes, sir.

- I'm still against

taking passengers, Wyatt.

I think we should pile

freight in the coach.

- Well, that would

be a dead giveaway.

That g*ng has never hurt

any passengers yet.

The agent over at

the stage depot

has been told to

repeat the warning

that people are going to be

travelling at their own risk.

Besides, we may not

have any passengers,

in which case I suggest

we load with freight.

- I'll settle for that.

- You know actually,

I don't think that Pervis

is going to jump us.

Not because I'm riding shotgun

but because I think

he'll smell a trap.

- He's not that smart.

- Well, that's one

of the reasons

why I agreed to this deal.

Just how smart is Danny Pervis?

I've always been a fool for

questions like that. Right, Hal?

- Yeah.

- Now you're a

fool for Wells Fargo.

- Tell him the truth, Mr. Tom.

- The truth?

- Sure! I've always wanted

an oldtimer's ring.

Say, who's going to

be driving number ?

- Pat Duncan.

- Hmm.

He's a good man, but I'd

rather have Milt Caney.

- Milt's loco!

- Well, Mr. Masterson, in order

to be a great stage driver,

you gotta be a might loco.

Now you put Milt

Caney on the box.

I rode with him once

through an Apache ambush

on the Phoenix Trail.

He was popping Indians

off the lead horses

with a blacksnake whip.

It was like swatting flies.

- All right, Wyatt.

Milt Caney.

- I just got one

final question, Mr. Tom.

- What's that?

- Does your company

pay for Wyatt's funeral?

- All expenses, Bat!

- Let's break this up.

Tomorrow may be a busy day.

- Before you buy

your tickets, read that!

- Well, what's it say?

- "Our regular stage bound

for Hays and northern points

"will leave Dodge City

at : am as usual tomorrow.

"Marshal Wyatt Earp

will ride shotgun.

"The stage will carry

men passengers only

and they will ride

at their own risk."

- Ah...

- There must be

robbers on the trail

or they wouldn't

be warning us.

- So, what if there are?

There's gold in the Black Hills.

- We can wait

one day, Sammy.

- Gold claims don't

wait. I'm going.

- OK...

- Wyatt, I think it's

much ado about nothing.

- Could be, Milt.

- I've got to write them bosses

in San Francisco another letter.

They ain't answered

my last one yet.

And they ain't sent me my

oldtimer's ring neither!

- Well, give them time.

They've been kind of busy.

- Wyatt, you was always

a clean-living boy.

How do you stand

with him now?

- Him?

You mean the good Lord?

Well, I guess I can only

claim a fair to middling rank.

- I'll put in a

good word for you.

- Well, thank you.

That's mighty kind of you.

- Oh, take nothing.

You there.

Do you see this?

I want you to keep a

tight trace on this trip.

And I don't want no bitin'

or snortin' or staggerin'.

Do you hear me?

Wyatt, you check

the passengers.

I've got to cuss these

horses in a quiet way.

Now Joe, I'm gonna

tell you somethin'.

- Oh Ma'am, I'm sorry.

But there are no women

allowed on this trip.

- Who's putting me off?

My name is

Wilkins, young man.

And I'm a great-grandmother.

My first great-grandson was

born up at Hays last week,

and I aim to see him.

And I aim to go

on this coach.

- Well I'm sorry, Mrs. Wilkins,

but you see,

the company thinks there's

going to be some trouble.

- Trouble? Ha!

I've had trouble all my life.

- Well, I'm sure you could

postpone your trip one day.

You see, there's liable

to be some sh**ting--

- Young man,

when you get to be my age,

you don't postpone things.

Now you just climb up there

in the boot, young fella,

and if the bandits give you any

trouble, I'll give you a hand.

- Yes'm.

- Three passengers,

Marshal Earp.

- Four.

- Huh?

- Grandma Wilkins

is going along.

- Oh no! The company

gave me strict--

- All right, you pull her off.

- You just try it and

they'll be a fight!

- Will you explain it

to Wells Fargo, Mr. Earp?

- Yeah.

- All right, there's the

money box. You sign here.

- I'm Sam Price, Marshal.

This is my

partner Ned Hilling.

- Clayton.

Lee Clayton.

- Mr. Price, Mr. Hilling,

Mr. Clayton...

Climb aboard, gentlemen.

- Wyatt's wrong, you know?

They're gonna jump him

just as soon as he gets

across that county line.

- Wyatt said miles.

I gave him my word.

- Hal?

- Yeah?

- Look, I think we ought

to follow Wyatt closer.

How do you boys feel?

- Same as you do, but

Wyatt's running the show.

- He said to wait an hour.

I always try to be reasonable.

- All right, then we go?

- In minutes.

- Look, Mr. Russell--

- Bat! Bat! Hold it!

Mr. Russell's straining

the point already.

- Yeah...

- Well, do we take

'em from here, Danny?

- No. We wait and see if

a posse's following 'em.

Then we'll ride along either

side of 'em at r*fle range.

You understand?

- You mean pick off

Earp and the driver?

- If we can sh**t that good.

If we can't we'll have to

move in a little closer

and drop some of the horses.

- And then close in.

- Divide the boys

so we'll have some g*ns

on the west side too.

Wait a minute.

I don't want any of that

fancy Jesse James stuff

until I give the word.

- Yes, sir.

Bill, Ted, Charlie, you go

over to the other way.

- Why can't we have

some air in here?

- The sun's on that side.

It'll burn you up.

- And second, we don't

want to be sitting ducks.

- What?

- We don't want to

make ourselves targets

for road agents.

- Ah, city fellers!

Road agents! They

wouldn't jump us here.

We're too close

to Dodge City.

- Grandma's right.

- Do they usually sh**t

at the passengers?

- Not unless some tarnation

idiot sh**t at them.

- Won't we be expected

to help Mr. Earp?

- Well, that's what

he's hired for.

- Correct, sonny. Correct.

But you let Mr. Clayton

here help Marshal Earp.

If it comes to that.

- Not me, Grandma.

- Oh, you're a

g*n-fightin' man, sure!

I took a good look at

your g*n and holster.

That holster's Texas hide.

Cured stiff for a quick draw.

And all the bluing's worn off

the front side of your coat.

Ah, you got the eyes of

a g*n-fightin' man.

- Relax, friends. I don't

help no John Law.

- Oh, drat it!

There, I dropped a stitch!

Now that's bad luck!

- Is that Earp riding shotgun?

- Ah... too far to tell.

As they come abreast of us,

we'll start playing

Indian with 'em.

- Milt! Riders!

- Do you suppose

they want us?

- Yeah.

Pull 'em up. I got to

get those passengers out.

- Whoa!

- Whoa!

- What are we

stopping here for?

- Sorry, but this

is as far as we go.

- What's happened?

- Outlaws. Mr. Caney and I are

going to make a run for it.

The rest of you out.

Come on, Grandma.

- I will not!

I'm comfortable!

- Well, I want out!

Come on, Sammy!

- No! I've got a g*n,

Marshal! I'll help!

- Come on, get out of there.

- Well, shall we dust 'em?

- Not yet. I'll

tell you when.

- Now there's a posse following

us. You just wait here.

Come on, Mr. Clayton.

Come on, Grandma.

- No!

- Should I lift her out?

- Yeah, but take it easy.

- You just try it,

you old coot,

and I'll pick your eyes out

with my knitting needles!

- Come on, Grandma!

- Now!

- Get aboard!

Them's b*ll*ts!

- I'll stay with Grandma.

- All right.

- Ya!

[ g*nshots ]

Ya!

- Get down, Grandma!

- Here now! Here now!

Here! Now save your cartridges.

It's still a r*fle fight!

- I got a hunch

they jumped Wyatt.

- Ten miles behind,

Wyatt said.

- Well that

doesn't go anymore.

You come with me, or you

mosey along with Russell.

- Well, if you want to go fast,

I'll race you there. Hiya!

- All right!

[ g*nshots ]

- We can't outrun 'em, Wyatt.

Let's stop and

make a fight of it!

- No, head for those

rocks that way!

- Hiya!

- Stay down there! You want

to get yourself k*lled?

- Ah!

If I stay down there,

I will get myself--

[ g*nshots ]

Look at that.

Good! I knew it!

I knew you could do it!

- Ya!

I'm hit, Wyatt!

In the shoulder!

- Give me the reins!

Hey!

[ g*nshots ]

[ g*nshots ]

You all right?

- Reload as fast as you can.

Ed, you and Charlie and

Fred keep after them.

Rest of us will cut across

through the narrows over here.

They can't travel

as fast over there.

- They certainly can't.

- We'll pick 'em off.

Go ahead and keep wide apart so

they won't know we split up.

- Mr. Clayton!

Mr. Clayton!

- Mr. Clayton's been hit!

- How bad?

- Well, you don't hear

him sh**t', do you?

I picked up his revolver.

I'm reloadin'.

What happened? They give up?

- Well, Grandma,

I don't think so.

It's some kind of a trick.

Probably reloading

back there somewhere.

[ g*nshots ]

Here they come!

Keep down so you don't

get yourself shot!

Hiya! Let's go! Come on!

- Drat it!

- Whoa!

Come on, Mr. Caney!

- I'm afraid I can't

be much help, Wyatt,

- I know, but come on down.

Just try to keep

the blood stopped.

Get him over there on the rock.

- I'll take care of him. Just

get out of my way, young boy.

Say, what are you

doing that for, sonny?

- Trying to prevent

a wreck and a runaway.

Pervis knows we're

heading into winding roads.

He's cut his men in half.

Sent half of them cross country

so they could pop up

in front of us.

Hey! Get going!

The minute that

firing started again,

those horses would run off and

gotten themselves into a wreck,

busted up that stage.

- Well, that's real

good thinking, son.

No sense in busting up a good

stage and k*lling animals.

- Come on, Milt.

Grandma, pick up

that Winchester.

Let's go up the

hill. Let's go!

Watch yourself.

Just take it easy.

- Drat it!

- You get down in

there, Milt. Stay there.

Grandma, get on that

rock to the left.

Come on.

To the left here.

Now stay behind that rock.

Start reloading that Winchester.

Milt, you keep undercover!

- I sure like a young feller

that's got a brain

and you've got one.

- Hush up, Grandma.

Here they come.

Grandma, save your sh*ts!

You just keep reloading,

I'll do the firing.

The posse better show up before

we run out of b*ll*ts.

- You got one, sonny!

How many are there?

- I can't tell.

Here, reload that.

Gimme that Winchester.

- Well, this might have been

a good trick for Indians.

But we ain't Indians.

I think we ought

to hide the horses

and try to take

Earp on foot.

- Yeah. Maybe you're right.

- Say, hope I didn't spoil

nothin', sonny.

This darn thing

almost jammed on me!

- Thank you, Grandma.

Hey, you're a pretty rugged gal!

- Yeah. Always was.

But you should have

knowed my Grandma.

Oh! Grandma was a case!

Drat him!

- Hey, you're doing

right well, Grandma!

[ Horses ]

- Say, here come some

men. Are they ours?

- Well, they better be.

- Posse coming!

- Hold it, Pervis!

- Determined cuss, ain't he?

Some people just

won't stop at nothin'!

- You stay put!

Drop your belts!

Come on, Milt.

- All right, Wyatt?

- [Bat]: I told you miles

was too far!

- Stop yakking

and round 'em up.

You tough old buzzard.

You're going to be good as

new in a couple of weeks.

- You folks sure

did a good job!

I can't make a Wells

Fargo speech for you.

Well, here.

Mail it back

when you get yours.

- Well thank you, Mr. Tom.

Milt, hold out your good hand.

- No joking!

- Sure, you earned it.

Now, when Wells Fargo

sends you your own,

you just mail that

one back to Mr. Tom.

- My oldtimer's ring.

But I didn't pay

for Wells Fargo.

I only cussed the horses!

[ All laugh ]

- Hey, sonny! Come on!

Let's get moving!

That little baby

will be walking

before his grandmother

ever gets up to Hays.

- Grandma, he may be walking by

the time we find those horses.

Hey Hal, give me

a hand, will you?

♪♪ Well, he cleaned

up the country ♪

♪ The old Wild West country ♪

♪ He made law

and order prevail ♪

♪ And none can deny it,

the legend of Wyatt ♪

♪ Forever will live

on the trail ♪

♪ Oh, Wyatt Earp,

Wyatt Earp ♪

♪ Brave, courageous and bold ♪

♪ Long live his fame

and long live his glory ♪

♪ And long may

his story be told ♪

♪ Long may his story ♪

♪ Be ♪

♪ Told ♪

♪ Hmm ♪♪
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