[Ken Darby singing "The Life
And Legend Of Wyatt Earp"]
♪ Wyatt Earp, Wyatt Earp
♪ Brave, courageous, and bold
♪ Long live his fame
and long live his glory ♪
♪ And long may
his story be told ♪
[humming]
(narrator)
Dr. Fabrique of Wichita
had been
an old loyal friend
of Marshal Earp.
When Wyatt moved to Dodge City,
he kept in touch
with his doctor pal
in Wichita.
But friendship has its
stresses and strains.
Never did Dr. Fabrique imagine
that he would become
the storm center of a case
which made medical history
in Dodge.
But then Dr. Fabrique
had not met Shotgun Gibbs
and his muleRoscoe.
And I'll explain just once more.
I'm a doctor of medicine,
not a veterinarian.
I do not treat mules.
You'll look at Roscoe.
I will not look at Roscoe.
I'm a busy man with
many patients.
- Now, you stand aside.
- No, sir, I won't.
Mr. Gibbs? Dr. McCarty?
What's goin' on here?
Mr. Gibbs wants me to look
at his mule. I've refused.
- Now, if you'll excuse me--
- Wait a minute, doctor.
- Is Roscoe sick?
- He's awful sick, Wyatt.
Dying, most likely.
I can't help that. I don't have
time to look at a mule.
Just take it easy, doc.
Look...I'm gonna ask you
as a personal favor
that you look at Roscoe.
It'll only take you
five minutes.
Well, I owe you
a favor, Wyatt.
Let's get it over with.
But keep this quiet.
I don't want my patients
to know that they are waiting
while I look at-at a mule.
Roscoe is a heap side better
than most of your patients.
[dramatic music]
Maybe, he ate
a stale bale of hay.
He's been drinking.
What?
Smells like somebody
gave him a lot of rum.
He'll be alright.
Just let him sleep it off.
Why, that's plum stupid!
Roscoe wouldn't drink
nothing but water.
He knows what's
good for him.
You asked for my opinion, Wyatt.
I gotta get back to my office.
Thanks, doc, for coming over.
[door closes]
By golly, it does smell
a little like rum.
Can't be.
Roscoe wouldn't drink
no kinda alcohol.
He's running
a fever too, Wyatt.
He sure looks bloated.
Maybe, there's a vet in town
that can tell us what's wrong.
- 'Howdy, marshal.'
- Good morning, Mr. Lenhart.
We're awful sorry to turn
your stable into a sickroom.
That's alright.
Uh, what do you think
is wrong with him?
Why, the animal's been poisoned.
I got this blanket, we'll wet it
and put it over him.
I'll get ice
for his head.
We gotta do something
to break this fever.
Doc McCarty says he smells like
he's been drinking rum.
You ever hear of such
a darn fool idea?
Well, doc ain't
no expert with mules.
I'll wet this blanket
and-and get some ice
and may be it'll help.
- Mr. Lenhart?
- Yeah.
There a vet in town who can tell
us what's wrong with Roscoe?
Marshal, I've been doctoring
horses and mules all my life.
Shotgun hisself is a better vet
than anyone we got around here.
Dad and me, we've tried every
trick in the trade, Wyatt.
Better go soak up
the blanket, dad.
- He's mighty sick.
- Yeah.
As a matter of fact..
...this is the sickest mule
I ever did see.
Well, I'll send for
Dr. Fabrique from Wichita.
There ain't no better vets
in Wichita than we got here.
Dr. Fabrique is an M D.
If he takes a liking
to Roscoe, he'll save him.
What's liking him
got to do with it?
Well, you don't know
Dr. Fabrique.
If he takes a notion,
he can be a medical genius.
It'll take him a little while
to get here by train and stage.
You just keep Roscoe
alive until then.
I shouldn't let you go through
all this trouble, Wyatt.
Guess I'm a plum fool
about Roscoe.
Don't you worry,
Dr. Fabrique's our man.
I'll send a telegram.
You and dad just try
to break that fever.
[dramatic music]
Are you sick or something?
Gallop them horses.
I told you this was
an emergency case.
Keep your shirt on, doc.
Shove along, boys.
It's none of my business,
but did Marshal Earp get shot?
Fool's question.
I'll give you a fool's answer.
I don't know.
He sent for you without
telling what ailed him?
He wrote that telegram
with his last strength.
Only seven words.
That's too bad.
Wyatt's probably dead by now
with only that Doc McCarty
to help him.
Faster, faster. Wyatt will be
buried before we get there.
Shove along.
[music continues]
Where's Wyatt Earp?
I'm Dr. Fabrique from Wichita.
Oh no, oh no, no, no.
Howdy, doc.
Don't you howdy me.
- You're supposed to be dying.
- I didn't wire that.
I just said it was an emergency
and you should come quick.
Never mind.
Who's the emergency?
I'll tell you about it,
come with me.
Is Doc McCarty dying? Took some
of his own medicine, huh?
I'll tell you about it later.
Now, we got no time to lose.
Livery stable? You mean, you put
a dying man in a barn, Wyatt?
Well, you see, doc,
he's too sick to be moved.
A mule!
You brought me all the way
from Wichita to doctor a mule?
- Why you--
- Wait a minute, doc.
Wait a minute.
You see, this was
Doc McCarty's patient.
Doc just..
McCarty just walked off
and left him to die.
- McCarty walked off the case?
- Yup. Sure did.
He said he was drunk
and just up and left.
Big-headed fool.
Drunk huh?
Doc, he's got a fever.
You're his only chance.
Naturally.
Take that blanket off him.
What's that you got
in your hand?
- Ice.
- Throw it away.
Throw it away.
What a pretty mule.
Cholera morbus. Who's been
feeding him Sorghum beer?
Sorghum beer?
You know what that is.
[sniffing]
All you gotta do
is smell em'.
Either one of you
own this mule?
Me. His name's Roscoe.
Doc, this is my
chief deputy, Mr. Gibbs.
Doc, I sure am thankful you
could come down and take--
Gabble, gabble, gabble.
Time's too short.
Just what I thought.
You hop right over
to Doc McCarty's office.
Tell him I want some ipecac,
tincture of belladonna
and a quarter
of saline solution.
Ipi-cac-beller-donna.
Tincture of belladonna and
a quarter of saline solution.
'I'll fetch it, doc.'
You go get a drench bottle.
Sure.
But we already drenched him.
Shut up, I'll drench him.
Wyatt, I may have to use
a vet's aspiration needle.
Get me one, will you.
- Sure, doc, but--
- Get it. Get it.
Don't you worry, Roscoe.
You ain't dead yet, honey.
Nip and tuck.
That Sorghum beer
is the devil's own brew.
Who gave it to him?
Nobody has Sorghum beer
here in Dodge, doc.
That's a Missourian Kentucky
drink, ain't it?
Yeah, that's right. They also
make it in Tennessee..
...Oklahoma and Arkansas.
But if he's had
the Missouri-type Sorghum
I don't have
much hope for him.
- I'll find out, doc.
- Wait a minute, Mr. Gibbs.
Doc, are you sure
it's Sorghum beer?
Doc McCarty says this stuff
isn't strong enough to do this.
That's what confirmed
my diagnosis.
Doc McCarty
is an easterner.
He's from Ohio.
Bet he never tasted
any Sorghum beer.
That's right, doc.
'Did you ever taste any?'
- No.
- Well, shut up.
You're old enough.
Wyatt, freshly brewed Sorghum
is a fine reasonable drink
but it don't keep too well.
And once it's turned,
look out.
I'd rather be bitten
by six rattlesnakes.
I want some breakfast
and you're buying, Wyatt.
No, sir.
It's on me.
Well, Mr. Gibbs, I-I think
you oughta stay here.
If Roscoe wakes up,
he'll wanna see you.
Isn't that right, doc?
Yes, yes. The animal is
probably very found of you.
If he has another chill, you can
send for me over at Dodge House.
[dramatic music]
- Doc?
- Hm.
Sure glad you caught on.
I don't want, uh,
Shotgun going out
gunning for those
practical jokers.
Giving Sorghum beer to
a poor mule ain't no joke.
Well, they thought it was.
Sorghum beer..
Just doesn't
sound plausible, doc.
Why would they toot that stuff
all the way to Kansas?
Anybody who's addicted
to it would.
You don't understand, Wyatt.
Because you're not
a drinking man.
Sorghum beer that's turned bad
in a jug is quite a challenge.
I lost a patient with it once.
Did he have the same symptoms
that, uh, Roscoe has?
Well, Roscoe is just a mule
but he's led a nice, clean,
wholesome outdoor life.
Yet he's just got
cholera morbus.
I lost my patient with a brain
hemorrhage and heart failure.
Well, how long had he been
drinking that stuff?
Seventy five years.
Man and boy.
That ain't funny, Wyatt.
You know, Sorghum beer
that's just turned bad
is too much
of a challenge.
And this fellow,
he got too brave.
Can't feel
no temple pulse.
Let me feel.
You missed the right spot, dad.
His heart's still beating but
his pulse is awful slow and..
...thready like.
- Want me to get the doctor?
- Well, maybe you better.
Mr. Gibbs.
- I'm busy, Schuffles.
- Roscoe's dying?
It was Heck Miller and some
of those Missouri boys
that arrived for the JW.
They gave him a full bucketful
of Sorghum beer.
- When was this?
- Why, yesterday afternoon.
You left Roscoe
at Toby's trough.
Miller and the boys
were about half drunk.
They thought it was
a good joke, see.
Where's Heck Miller now?
Why, at the JW camp, I reckon.
Just south of town.
I thank you for that.
- Dad, can I use your horse?
- Oh, sure.
- But Wyatt said--
- It ain't Wyatt's mule.
[dramatic music]
You better tell Earp.
I didn't figure Shot's gonna
get that riled.
I ain't telling nobody.
Neither are you.
Yes, sir. If that's
the way you want it.
That's the way
I want it.
I'm not arguing
for Shotgun's sake alone.
He went out there
to punish somebody.
You know about it,
so you're in trouble.
How do you figure that?
Because if Shotgun's mad enough
to k*ll, that'll be m*rder.
You'd be an accessory.
- Ain't that right, doc?
- Yeah.
You'll have to hang 'em both.
Don't make any difference
with Lenhart.
- He's old enough to go, anyway.
- I ain't as old as you are.
You're still at
the ripe hangin' age.
Get him out of here, he's making
me lose count on my dosage.
Let him stay here, then at least
I'll know where he is.
Wait, Wyatt.
I ain't aiming to get hung.
You find Schuffles Monaham,
he's the one that told Gibbs.
- Schuffles Monaham?
- Yeah.
Thanks.
Hey!
- Pearly's got a whole jug.
- I hope it ain't turned.
I'd take it easy, Heck.
It don't taste just right.
I told you to get it
from the Kentucky boys.
- They'd already gone south.
- Well, we'll soon find out.
- It's turned.
- Well, not that bad.
It's just as bad as
the stuff we gave that mule.
You go ahead and drink it.
You'll get sick as the mule got.
Who's next?
Not me.
- Red?
- Uh-huh.
Alright, you chickens,
watch the big rooster.
- No.
- Wait a minute, Heck. You--
I don't care what happens to you
but I wanna keep some of this.
- Listen to him, Pearly.
- He better listen to me.
You give me that cork.
You know, there's good and evil
spirits in Sorghum beer.
Once it's taken a notion to turn
bad, a man should respect that.
Come on, I still
got some whiskey.
[dramatic music]
You go and tell Doc Fabrique
I've gone on to the JW camp.
Yes, sir.
If Roscoe's feeling
any better, you ride after.
- Did Shotgun go out there?
- Yeah, he sure did.
Hope I get there in time. It'll
help if Roscoe's feeling better.
Blast! Where's
my stethoscope?
Around your neck.
Oh, so it is.
Is he dead?
Nip and tuck.
Give me the syringe.
[dramatic music]
Doc, Wyatt wants to know if
Roscoe is feeling any better.
Shut up!
You lock that door, Lenhart.
And bar it.
He's just
about gone, Joe.
Don't drink
it all, Red.
Here, Pearly.
Good, ain't it?
That's right good liquor
but it ain't Sorghum beer.
You still got
some sense, Pearly.
Seems to me, Heck, we could
risk a bit of Sorghum.
- We put in a good foundation.
- Yeah. How about that, Heck?
No. You boys quit talking about
Sorghum or I'll bust the jug.
[expl*si*n]
Get your hands off them g*ns.
What's that you're sh**ting,
mister? A cannon?
You drop them g*n belts
or you'll find out.
Is this a jug of Sorghum beer?
Go on, help yourself.
No need to get hostile.
We'll give you the whole jug.
Which one of you hombres
is Heck Miller?
I am.
Where you from,
Johnny Law?
Dodge.
You k*lled my mule.
Oh...that old mule die?
We're plum sorry, mister.
We was only funnin'.
Well, I ain't.
W-well, now look,
we'll pay for the mule.
You ask the JW foreman.
There ain't enough money
to pay for Roscoe.
Well, now look, you're not
aiming to sh**t us.
I ain't right here
because Wyatt Earp is
probably trailing me.
Get over there in them bushes.
Move!
[dramatic music]
Alright.
- Up you go, up you go.
- Come on, come on.
- Up, up, up.
- Up you come.
I'll get down here.
Come on, come on.
- Come on, come on.
- Up, up, up.
Whoopie, whoopie, whoopie.
It's a miracle, doc.
Foosh! It's just a case
of medical science
winning out over
Sorghum beer poison.
You helped, Roscoe, by leading
a nice, clean outdoor life.
Don't feed him any water
till I've had my breakfast.
- And keep this door barred.
- 'Alright.'
[knocking on door]
Dad Lenhart.
Get out of my way.
- I happen to be a lady who--
- Open your mouth wide.
Ah-ha. You're bilious. You go
to your hometown doctor.
- I'm an out of town specialist.
- Hold on, doc.
Is the mule dead?
[mule brays]
Any more bright questions?
- Get out of my way.
- That was Roscoe.
Doc pulled him through.
[people chattering]
Hey, hey, hey!
You folks, skedaddle.
You're making Roscoe nervous.
[people chattering]
- Doc Fabrique.
- What do you want?
Wyatt went after Mr. Gibbs.
He told me to go to the JW camp
soon as I've had definite word.
Nothing's definite.
You can't count on a mule.
He'll die on you
just to be contrary.
- Doc, Mr. Gibbs went gunning--
- I hope he finds him.
Now, skedaddle, I'm hungry.
[dramatic music]
Shotgun!
Shotgun!
You k*lled 'em.
I reckon so.
I made 'em drink
what they gave to Roscoe.
Mr. Gibbs, you're under arrest.
'Suits me.'
[groaning]
[groans]
[groans]
They're still alive.
Are you a loco?
All this over a mule.
Don't you know, if they die,
Judge Tobin'll call it
first-degree m*rder?
- They done it to Roscoe.
- Roscoe is a mule.
You don't go around poisoning
four men out of vengeance
for a practical joke.
Why take it
so hard, Wyatt?
Hanging is as good a way
to go as most others.
Heap side better than some.
(male # )
'Hey, Wyatt.'
'Wyatt!'
It's Joe.
Over here in the bush.
Now, Mr. Gibbs, you've saved
my life quite a few times.
You're gonna get a running
start. Now, go on.
No.
But I thank you kindly,
just the same.
Of all the stupid,
senseless idiots.
There is your mule, Mr. Gibbs.
[mule braying]
Roscoe!
You take care
of this critter, Gibbs.
He just tried to bite Joe and
he's already kicked my horse.
And don't you send me
another lying telegram, Wyatt.
Wait a minute.
Mr. Gibbs fed them fellows
some Sorghum beer.
They're mighty sick, I don't
think they're gonna last long.
Sorghum beer! I ain't even
gonna get off my horse.
Oh yes, you are.
If those fellows die,
Mr. Gibbs is liable to hang.
You wouldn't want Roscoe to die
of a broken heart, would you?
[dramatic music]
[groans]
Well?
Do you have any Sorghum juice
left in that jug?
- A little.
- Give it here.
Doc, that's poison.
Shut up.
Just turned a shade.
Just what I needed.
Sorghum beer, it's
a mighty fine drink.
You mean they're not gonna die?
Them scamps, they just
got weak stomachs.
They haven't just been
drinking Sorghum beer.
They've been drinking
corn liquor.
They passed out
from being plain drunk.
Sorghum beer won't hurt you
if it ain't turned bad.
Sorghum beer is
the finest nectar on earth
when it ain't turned bad.
Remind me to send
you a jug, Wyatt.
It might break you of
that miserable milk habit.
The least we can do is take
them fellows on back to Dodge.
- Doc Fabrique won't treat 'em.
- Doc McCarty would.
You don't need
a hometown doctor.
They'll be coming to and
crawling around like jackasses.
No offense, Roscoe.
I'm going back into town,
I'm hungry.
[Ken Darby singing "The Life
And Legend Of Wyatt Earp"]
♪ 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 ♪
♪ 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 ♪