Original subtitles

Starring James Arness as Matt Dillon.

♪♪

I could've swore I smelled me some coffee.

Howdy!

Anybody here?

♪♪

A man with a outfit like this

could have a parade all by hisself.

Looks like you caught yourself a good one there, fella.

There's no denying it's good enough to send me straight.

Who shot you?

Me.

I managed to...

to do what 17 men couldn't do.

Kill myself.

How did this happen?

Fool gun slipped out of my hand.

Hammer hit a rock.

Fool way to die.

Maybe I can get you into Bucklin to a doctor.

Where's your horse at?

Spooked.

When the gun went off.

Ought to be something I can do for you.

Yeah.

Bury me.

Deep.

I ain't never left no man to buzzards yet.

I'll show you my thanks.

See that rig over there?

Saddle and... and trappings...

They're yours.

You ride into Bucklin on that rig...

and the folks...

the folks will sit up and take real notice.

Well, look who's here.

Oh, good morning.

- Matt, how are you? - Matt.

Good to have you back.

How are you, Matt?

Ah, good to be here, I'll tell you.

- Have a chair. - Oh, thanks, Thad.

- How about some coffee? - Hey, that sounds fine.

How are things in Wichita, Matt?

Well, they haven't changed a bit, Doc.

How about things here, Thad?

Pretty good, except for that.

Yeah, what is that?

Interesting you should ask about that.

Not very original, but interesting.

Everybody who comes in here asks the same thing.

- They do? - Yeah.

Well, does anybody ever get an answer?

Oh, yes, yes, the answer is

that's one of Festus' money-making schemes.

How do you make money with something like that?

Well, if you're a Haggen,

you bet that you can stack two decks of cards

into a four-story house

without ever knocking the house down, not even once.

And then you work up the odds

with a severe case of the hiccups.

Well, that sounds like Festus, all right.

How come he gave up?

He didn't. Oh, no.

He was called away.

To Bucklin.

- Mmm. - Bucklin?

Yeah, see, a cousin of his... Name of Maude Haggen...

Got in jail because of doing in somebody

whose name was, uh, uh...

- Rover Watson. - Rover Watson.

Well, that sounds kind of serious.

Oh, no, no. Not according to Festus.

You see, the way the Haggens look at it,

killing a Watson is liable to get you a medal

instead of a hanging.

Oh, he knew these Watsons, did he?

No, no, wouldn't know one

if they stuck their fingernail in his eyeball, he said.

He just knows about 'em.

Mainly that they're, uh, "as rotten to the core

as an apple with a worm for a stem."

That's funny, I thought I knew most of Festus' relatives,

but I never heard of this, uh, Maude before.

Well, he was a new one on us, too.

Huh?

Man.

You mean this... this Cousin Maude is a man?

Not only a man, but he seems to be a man

who's not above taking a shotgun to bad manners.

Must be named after his mother.

Nope. Uncle.

No, step-uncle.

- That's right. - No.

Yeah, his father's side.

Festus told you all this, did he?

- Right. - In one sentence, I suppose?

- Right again. - Mm-hmm.

Well, things haven't changed in Wichita.

I can see they haven't changed here, either.

Kitty, I need a drink.

♪♪

You boys heard what the mayor said.

Said for y'all to clear out of town.

The Watsons don't take orders from no mayor.

Especially one that yells out his threats

from behind a locked jailhouse door.

Well, the mayor ain't a bad sort.

It wasn't his fault.

The sheriff left town.

So, what you Watson boys gonna do?

First, we aim to put away a little bit

of this drinkin' whiskey.

Then we're gonna build ourselves a size 16-and-a-half noose.

Then we go and take care of Maude Haggen ourselves.

Ain't you all heard?

Heard what?

We just rid in from camp.

Maude Haggen escaped jail last night.

That mayor let him escape!

He never did act like he thought

Haggen was guilty... Did he, Buff?

No, nobody kills our daddy and gets away with it.

We'll just hang that mayor.

Wait a minute.

Now, don't y'all go storming that jail.

You'll grow some holes.

There's a telegraph operator in here last night got drunk,

said the mayor wired Cimarron yesterday morning

and hired Jim Travers to come down here

and clean you boys out of town.

Who's Jim Travers?

A gunfighter from Cheyenne.

He's killed a lot of folks up around there.

I ain't never even heard of him.

Well, I doubt if he'd keep a name you recognize.

Know what he looks like?

Oh, there was a big fat fella in here last night

shooting off his mouth... He said that he knewed him.

Said he's around 35 to 40

and he had a great, big, black Mexican saddle

with a lot of silver on it.

♪♪

A stranger just rode in!

Ain't much doubt about it... Is there, Roan?

Not much, Pinto.

Black saddle, right on schedule.

What do you think, Buff?

You don't see many gunfighters riding a mule.

Well, if he's looking for us, we might as well get at it.

That's right, we wouldn't want to be hard to find.

We gonna goad him into a fight?

Gunfighter ain't usually very hard to goad.

Let's go.

We was just admiring that saddle.

Can't say I blame you.

I'm kind of smote with it myself.

I can't help wondering

where a man might come across a saddle like that.

Now, that's a funny thing you'd ask that.

Just last night, I run across it...

There's only three ways to get a saddle that I know of.

You buy it.

Somebody gives it to you.

Or you steal it.

And we've got a 365-day

open season on saddle thieves around here.

Now, get to the ground.

Just supposing you all drop your gun belts real easy.

That's it.

Now, why don't you all just

amble on down the street yonder

and next time I'd be a little more careful

about who I call a saddle thief.

♪♪

Everyplace you go, there's a smart aleck.

He's stopping at the jail.

Now, that don't leave too much doubt... does it, Pinto?

What kind of gunman is that, using a dirty trick?

The kind that stays alive a long time.

We'd better get our guns out of there

before they get waterlogged.

We best wait till he goes inside.

We was lucky once.

That's right.

He ain't like to give us a second chance.

How do you reckon to handle it, Pinto?

Let him have his talk with the mayor.

Then, when he comes out, I'll face him down.

You gonna challenge him outright, Pinto?

I'll do whatever needs doing to get him to draw.

And when he does?

Bang.

What do you want?

I want to jaw over a problem with you.

Oh, thank the Lord.

I'd know that saddle from the description.

- Get in here! - Quit that!

What about that saddle?

Joe Riley told me what to look for.

Joe Riley?

I don't know no Joe Riley, Sheriff.

I'm not the sheriff.

He took off three days ago.

Garden City offered him $50 a month more than we could.

And a sight less trouble.

And with trouble, your name comes up.

It does?

Sure.

Maybe you'd ought to start at the top

and tell me about this.

Well, the Watson boys

turned up here about a month or so back.

Raw-hidin' and prairie-wolfin'.

Some say a little rustling.

They had a couple of run-ins with Maude Haggen.

A few days ago, the Watson boys came in

to swear out a murder warrant on Maude.

Said he killed their father.

Get him with a shotgun, did he?

No, no, Maude didn't shoot him.

Well, how did he do it, then?

The Watson boys ran across Haggen up at Wetdraw.

He'd found a sheep-dip tank,

and had it full of ferment and potato water.

The Watson boys got a case of it,

and Daddy Watson drank it and died.

Well, now, wouldn't that be more

of a manslaughtering case than a murder?

Not even that.

Uh, seems the Watson boys failed to pay

for the whiskey.

Well, what do they want now, then?

They want to give Maude $12 and shoot him.

And that's why you got old Maude hid out, huh?

I did have.

He escaped last night.

Left quite a knot on my head.

Well, if old Maude's gone and you ain't looking for him,

I'll just go on home.

I didn't hire you to protect Haggen!

I hired you to protect me.

To get the Watson boys out of town.

You ain't hired me to do nothing.

Three men, $100 a head.

That was your price.

Well, wait a minute here.

I-I get the feeling you think I'm somebody I ain't.

All right.

Who are you?

Festus Haggen.

Mr. Travers, I don't care if you call yourself "Gertrude."

The choice of a name is a gunfighter's privilege.

Just get rid of the Watson boys,

and you've earned yourself $300.

What do we do?

Nothing, except wait for our chance to nail him.

He'll be back to earn the money the mayor's paying him.

What's doing?

Well, where you going?

Do a little waiting over some whiskey.

That sure is a passel of money, all right.

I ain't Travers.

Then tell me something.

Where did you get that saddle?

From a feller I buried out on the trail.

What'd he die from?

Gunshot in the belly.

And I guess he shot himself?

Fact is that's just what he done.

Joe Riley said you liked your funnin'.

And it is sort of funny at that.

Well, if old Maude's gone,

I'll just mosey on back to Dodge City.

The three Watson boys are out there.

Three?

One of them kind of a burly feller?

The other two kind of scrawny?

All three of them tick-bit yahoos?

You met them.

They give me trouble when I rode into town.

They'll shoot you for sure!

Well, I'm gonna tell you something, Mr. Mayor.

Even them Watson boys wouldn't shoot an unarmed man.

And that's just what I'm going to be

when I walk out of here... Unarmed.

Because I'm fixing to put this pistol in my saddlebag.

But what about me, Mr. Travers?

My name is Festus Haggen.

And I'm fixing to ride out of town.

And if I get shot a-ridin' out of town,

that better be the name that's on my headstone,

or I'm coming back to haunt you.

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

Now, I don't know

whether I'd ought to go soak in a creek for a spell

or run for public office.

I either smell like a goat

or I got enough enemies to start politickin'.

That ain't it at all, no, sir, that ain't it all.

It's just, just these people don't want to get shot up

around here in town, and I don't want to get shot, neither.

Now, you can have all you want to drink.

It's all free if you just

drink it across the street, Mr. Travers.

My name ain't Travers.

I buried him on the trail last night.

What's your name, mister?

Festus Haggen.

Festus?

Maude Haggen's brother?

Cousin.

Well, he comes in here every Saturday night,

old Maude does, and almost wrecks this place.

When are you gonna get her fixed back up again?

That's a good one.

Seeing you tangle with the Watson boys...

I sure would like to sell tickets to that.

Then you'd just have to give their money all back,

'cause there ain't gonna be no fight!

♪♪

♪♪

I tell you, we'd have had him for sure.

We'll still get him.

Well, what's the matter with you?

- What happened out there? - Nothing happened.

Well, I thought y'all were gonna have at it.

I never thought y'all would let him get away like that.

Huh, like you'd have went after him!

Jim Travers ain't the kind of man you go straight up to.

You got to sort of sidle up to him on the downwind side and...

His name ain't Jim Travers.

What you talking?

His name is Festus Haggen.

What?

Cousin to Maude Haggen, the one that killed you boys' pa.

How do you know that?

He told me so.

- Well, where you going? - Well, where do you think?

Now, just hold on a minute, Pinto.

Hold on for what?

How do you reckon he come by Travers's saddle?

He told me he buried Travers last night on the trail.

There, now, you see?

Any man feisty enough to kill Travers

ain't no man for us to try and take.

Well, if Festus Haggen is anything like his cousin...

And all Haggens is alike...

He must've bushwhacked Travers.

Well, we can do the same thing.

A Haggen working for the mayor.

Appears to me like we're gonna get ourselves

a eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth

all at the same time.

Let's go.

Well, will you looky here?

Howdy there, little feller.

♪ Toady's in the pantry ♪

♪ What are you gonna do? ♪

♪ Toady in the pantry, what are you gonna do? ♪

♪ Toady in the pan... ♪

Hey.

Come on!

Well, that's about the fanciest saddle

I ever got that easy.

It ain't fair.

We didn't get a chance to shoot.

We weren't in pistol range, and you two ain't got no rifle.

How about that?

Us killing Festus Haggen...

The man that killed Jim Travers!

Huh? Huh?

I don't know, sounds kind of roundabouty.

Ain't nobody ever heard of this Haggen.

Hey, I bet he ain't no Haggen at all.

I bet that's really Jim Travers.

Right here they are... The Watson boys!

The ones that killed Jim Travers!

Now, how about that... huh, huh?

That sounds better, yeah.

If Daddy was here, he'd be so proud,

he'd go out and get cross-eyed drunker

than a goat eating China bears!

Let's go!

Hyah! Come on!

- Hyah! - Ha!

♪♪

Mister?

Are you all right, mister?

Hey, mister.

Jojo, you stay here.

Don't let him get away.

I'm gonna go get Mom.

Poor old flea-bit scamp, you look as raunchy as I do.

Just be easy, boy.

Back off.

♪♪

You, uh... you say he was frothing at the mouth?

Yes, sir.

You do have something to worry about.

You know, old Doc Adams over in Dodge City,

he's telling me there's some foreign pill pusher

that's got a cure for that.

Said that there's some doctor in Kansas City

knowed how to use it... Is that true?

I know Doc Adams.

He was talking about Louis Pasteur.

He's discovered a treatment.

And if you're bitten in the arm or the leg

and are treated within three or four days,

there's a 75% chance of recovery.

Well, it's at least a week to get to Kansas City, ain't it?

Yeah, it would.

What's my odds, Doc?

Do you want to know the truth?

Truth.

Practically nonexistent.

How much time have I got left?

Well... ten days.

Two weeks, at the outside.

That hydrophobia, it's...

a pretty sorry way to die, ain't it, Doc?

You know, a feller gets shot, well, he'll just fall flat

on his face and... Oh, he might kick a couple of times...

That's what makes the crowds turn out...

But what I mean is he won't go just a-snatchin' off his clothes

and a-sashayin' around, tryin' to bite folks.

Well, the-the symptoms aren't always that extreme.

They would be with me.

Everything I do's extreme.

Why, I'd probably be the wildest hydrophobic case

west of the Mississippi and north of the Rio Grande.

Folks wouldn't even remember my fine points.

If you became that violent,

you could be confined.

Not on your old tintype.

They ain't gonna hog-tie me

like some spindly little old calf

a-waitin' to get his behind burned

with a brandin' iron. No, sir.

Now, if you want to spend your last few days with your friends,

I'll be glad to ride to Dodge City with you.

No. No, I...

It's the worst to act a fool in front of your friends

than it is in front of strangers.

No, sir. Not me.

What do you intend to do?

Well, I don't reckon I know.

I... always kind of figured I'd die

getting shot or getting hung.

But hanging's out now,

'cause I'd die before they could get me hung.

As far as getting shot, well...

Let's you and me go see that mayor.

Alive?

The Watson boys are over at the American Saloon

celebrating your death.

Shootin' ain't killin'.

That $100-a-head offer you had

to get them fellers out of the territory,

- that still open? - Wide open.

You mad enough to go get 'em now?

Just give the money to Doc Rand here.

He-he knows what to do with my part of it.

Whatever there is left over, he'll give you back.

Well, now, Mr. Travers...

That ain't the name I told you to put on my headstone.

Mr., uh...

uh, Haggen,

I wish you all the luck in the world.

My luck just run out about a hour ago.

Mr. Haggen was bitten by a mad dog.

He's going to die.

Oh, that's a shame.

Mad dog? Hereabouts?

We best get folks looking for him.

The dog was foaming at the mouth at the time he bit Mr. Haggen.

His condition was probably terminal.

Are you sure?

Well, we can check after...

After what?

After I get over yonder at that saloon

and set up a shoot-out with them Watson boys.

Give me a pistol.

You better be careful.

Why don't you shoot 'em right there?

Because...

I'm afraid I just might accidental do it.

That don't make sense.

A bullet, my friend, is quicker than rabies.

Well, well, there's old Jim Travers

out by the watering trough

of that burned-out Spears Ranch site

when we come up on him.

Well, we knowed who he was,

and we just simple-like said, "Travers!"

Well, he jumped about six foot, pulled out his gun,

winged a couple at us, and we dropped him!

Well, he got hisself back up again.

Turn around and put your hands on the bar!

First man that goes for that door gets hisself shot.

'Cause I want you all to hear what's fixin' to be said.

He jumped about six feet, did he?

After you hit him in the head with a rifle ball.

"All we done was simple-like say, 'Travers.'

"He winged a couple of shots at us,

and... we killed him."

Now, I may have came here to get you.

I may have came here to get somebody else.

But right now I want you.

And this here's just because you're a young'un

and you're stupid.

And this here's just because you stole my mule Ruth

and my saddle.

And you...

you bushwhacked me.

Shot me in the head with a rifle ball.

I want to tell you this.

You've been a-choosin' me for the last hour or so,

and I'm here to tell you I'm choosin' you back.

What time does that clock say?

3:30.

All right.

3:30.

At 4:00, I want all you yahoos

to be out yonder in the street.

Be sure and wear your pistols,

'cause I'm fixin' to kill you.

All three of you.

As quick as you wake up.

All right, now, you, you, you, you, you,

get 'em out yonder. Sober 'em up.

Get 'em fixed to fight.

Hurry it up, or you'll be next.

Hurry up. Move 'em on out.

Look at that dang sunshine out yonder.

When a feller dies, it ought to be rainin'.

I always wanted mine to come on a bright spring morning.

You know what the worst part is, Doc?

What would that be?

It's just finally realizin'

that I ain't got time to see

the other side of every hill in the world.

Most men realize that when they're about 30.

How much time is there left, Doc?

About nine minutes.

When it comes to dyin',

I reckon everybody feels about the same way.

What would that be?

They'd just rather do it tomorrow.

Mad dog!

That there's the dog that bit me!

I got to shoot him before he bites somebody else!

Don't shoot. If that dog was foaming when he bit you,

- he'd be dead by now. - Well, he was, and he ain't.

Now, just relax. Here, sit down here.

Take it easy. I'll take full responsibility.

Now, you be careful, Doc.

- Watch him. - Tom John.

Tom John Spears, come in here a minute.

Mom don't allow me to go into saloons.

She says Pa spends enough time in here for the whole family.

Well, if she says anything, you have her talk to me.

Come on.

Boy, get away from that dog! He's got the rabies!

Don't shoot my dog!

You're the man we tried to help at the watering trough!

Don't kill Jojo!

I didn't see you out yonder, but I seen him,

and he was a-frothin' at the mouth. Now get away from him!

He just must've found a toad.

He picks 'em up, and they make him foam for a while.

Well, what for did he bite me, then?

'Cause the foamin' makes him real cranky.

Now, was there really a toad frog

at the watering trough? 'Cause if there wasn't,

this dog could be dangerous.

There was a toad out there all right, Doc.

I seen him myself.

They bite down on 'em,

and the frog has a toxic sack in its back.

It must taste very bad to a dog.

And they froth at the mouth to get the taste out of there.

Well, you mean he-he ain't got the hydrophobi'?

"Hydrophobia" means "fear of water."

Watch this.

Tom John, why don't you and Jojo go buy yourselves

a stick of candy.

Thanks, Doc!

You mean I ain't gonna die with the rabies?

No, you're not.

Well, golly Bill, Doc,

maybe I'll get a few more of them hills clumb yet.

I'm that grateful, I'd buy drinks for the whole pla...

Uh, wait till Matthew and Miss Kitty and old Doc Adams hear

that I ain't gonna die with rabies,

and I'm gonna die in about three minutes of, uh,

gettin' shot...

by the Watson boys.

Well, if that don't peel the skin off of a snake.

Mr. Haggen, maybe you could talk to them.

Yeah.

Maybe it won't snow in December.

Barkeep, you got a back door to this here place?

No, sir, there ain't. I have enough trouble

watchin' non-payers waltzing out the front.

Doc,

do me something, will you?

Sure, sure. Anything.

Now, I'll probably get me one of them Watsons,

maybe even two, but...

you just make sure they don't bury me close

to 'em up on Boot Hill, will you?

I'll do that, now. I'll do it.

You know, I always kind of figured

I'd make my dying count for more than the likes of them.

Mr. Haggen...

Well, you know yourself, ain't a one of 'em

that's worth the sweat it takes to bury 'em.

Oh, I know that. I know that. I-I've got an idea.

About what?

About a way that might get you out of this thing.

Now, supposin'...

It's 4:00, sir.

Well, time has came.

Ain't no way to get her did except to go out and do her.

You got no choice.

Keep a eye peeled on that, will you?

Right.

♪♪

♪♪

You, mean man,

where's your gun?

I ain't got one.

We have, and you'd better get one.

Don't believe I will.

I been a-studying about that.

One gun might get one man, maybe even two.

But when it comes to three, I got my doubtfuls.

And I just decided to whup you all with my bare knuckles.

All three of us?

All three of you.

We shoot an unarmed man,

and we get hung.

By who?

Marshal Matthew Dillon,

a friend of mine in Dodge City.

Well,

we'd as soon to kick you to death as shoot you.

Now we're unarmed.

You shoot us, you're in trouble.

Now, wait. Wait just one minute, fellers.

I been wantin' to get a chance to jaw with you fellers,

'cause I just can't see no reason in the world

why we can't figure this out

in a fair way of having this ruckus.

Well, I don't think that...

♪♪

Get him. Hit him.

Now! Now!

Stop it! Stop it! You're killin' him!

What do you mean, Doc?

You shouldn't be fightin' this man.

- Well, he started it. - I don't care who started it.

He has rabies, hydrophobia.

Stinkin' way to die.

Well, let's put him out of his misery.

And who'll put you out of your misery?

What do you mean?

Did he bite you?

He did, but I bit him back.

Well, that isn't the same.

Being bit by him is like being bit by a rabid coyote.

Well, uh...

How 'bout you?

He dang near took my ear off!

- And you? - He didn't bite me.

But you opened your knuckles on his teeth, didn't you?

You mean us fighting this fella's got us infected?

Well, I don't know for sure, but you've sure been exposed to it.

You got to help us, Doc.

There's a way to make it well?

Now, you took a oath! Now, you got to help us!

All right. I'll help you the best way I know how.

As far as I know, a man that's bitten by a rabid creature dies.

Now, there's a man in France that claims to have a cure,

and there's a doctor in Kansas City

that has access to the serum.

Can we get there in time?

Well, there's a chance, but you'd have to leave right now.

Well, come on!

Let's get him up.

You think he might bite me?

Come on.

Easy.

♪♪

Pay him off, Doc.

The order was to get the Watson boys out of town,

and Mr. Travers did it.

My name is Haggen, Festus Haggen.

The man who killed Jim Travers.

Jim Travers killed hisself.

Anything you say, Mr. Travers.

How would you like for me to bite you?

Uh, Mr. Haggen,

I think this is yours.

Much obliged, Doc.

Now, you wouldn't probably think it to look at me,

but this here's the mostest money

I've ever had at one time

in my entire born put together.

When'd Festus get back?

I don't know.

He just came in and bought a round for the house

and called for a new deck.

- He bought what? - That's right.

Yeah, I wouldn't have believed it, either, if I hadn't seen it.

Had an envelope stuffed full of bills.

Festus.

Matthew,

got a pot of glue on you someplace?

What happened to you up at Bucklin?

Oh, I got shot and stomped by some fellers

and bit by a hydrophobi' dog.

Well, it... well, actual wasn't hydrophobi'...

Just kind of cranky is all.

Where'd you get all that money?

The town give it to me for getting rid of some riffraff...

Watson boys.

The Watson boys?

Well, what about your-your cousin Maude?

Oh. He escaped 'fore I even got there.

They ain't even lookin' for him.

They didn't have a tight grip on him, so he got away.

You know something, Matthew?

That town give me $300 for six hours' work.

When I think of the hours that I've just broke my back

a-workin' for 15 cents...

Festus, who shot you?

Watson boys.

What for?

Oh, 'cause of a big, black, leather

and silver Mexican saddle.

What's that got to do with it?

A... gunfighter named Travers give it to me.

Travers? You mean Jim Travers?

He accidental shot hisself,

and I promised to bury him,

so he give me his saddle.

I just saw Ruthie standing out in front here

wearing your old saddle.

Well, I... I just figured,

why build a whole new batch of saddle sores?

That fancy saddle give me so much trouble,

on the way home, I just stopped and buried it

right by Travers and took my old one.

You know, I got a feeling he knowed all along

how much trouble he was a-givin' me.

Festus, why don't you put those cards down for once.

I think you and I ought to have a little talk.

There she is! Four stories high!

Pay up! Pay up, everybody!

Come on. Pay her up.

Stay tuned for scenes from next week's Gunsmoke.