Original subtitles

ANNOUNCER:

Starring James Arness as Matt Dillon.

Any man can be buried up here on Boot Hill,

and it won't cost him a cent.

All he has to do is lose his temper for a moment,

or his nerve.

Most of the men who die that way

have lived long enough to know better.

You can't trouble yourself too much about 'em.

It's when a boy goes down,

some lad in his teens,

that you really begin to hate the waste of it.

That's another part of being a U.S. marshal.

You picked a terrible inconvenient time for a...

heart attack.

I'll say it, shut up.

You're givin' out, sheriff.

You're fadin' like an old drag steer.

Before I die,

I'll take you with me.

No.

You couldn't bring yourself to it.

You're one of them duty-sticklers.

And you're a murderer, Blackie.

But the law says I got a trial comin'.

And you're the law.

Once I get you into Dodge,

you're as good as hung.

Am I, sheriff?

I got friends waitin' for me.

Good friends.

Nobody's putting me on that train tomorrow morning.

You're a liar.

Thought you was real smart, didn't ya?

Hiring this stage to sneak me out of Garden City.

I had good friends there too.

One of 'em was heading straight to the telegraph office

the minute we pulled out.

That's why Tasker Sloan's gonna be waitin'.

One thing you didn't reckon on, boy.

Yeah?

Me having a friend in Dodge.

If you ever saw my son, Marshal Dillon,

you wouldn't be likely to forget,

especially his hair.

It was the lightest yellow

I've ever seen on a boy or a man.

And when the sun caught it in a certain light,

it seemed almost white.

So it was natural for people to call him Whitey.

Maybe that was the name you knew him by.

Well, Mrs. Randolph, uh,

if I had a dollar for every one of these young drifters

that came through here with only a nickname-

All the Shortys and the Curlys and the Slims.

I'd be a rich man.

Marshal Dillon,

I have a feeling you're being evasive.

All right, Mrs. Randolph.

Well?

I've been, uh, trying to think

of how to tell you about your son.

Then you do know him?

He was one of those with just a nickname.

And it was Whitey.

Yes?

He was killed by a deputy sheriff.

No.

Two years ago, ma'am.

Sheriff's posse rode down on a wild bunch

that broke jail in Hutchinson.

The others got away. Your son didn't.

I think I knew it all the time.

But this man who wrote me the letter,

he just said Hollis was mixed up in some kind

of hot-blooded action and...

the marshal in Dodge would know all about it.

Here, why don't you have a little water.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Randolph.

Did he have to be shot down?

What horrible thing did he do?

Well, as I remember,

he and some other men cleaned out a faro game

in one of the saloons.

The dealer was murdered.

Hollis would never kill anybody.

He was a gentle boy.

He only came here because he was young.

It was painful growing up down south after the war.

But how would you know about that?

You'd have had to know

the blessed peace of our plantation

and then live through the ruin and the destruction

and all the hopelessness.

No...

Hollis was doomed.

He was marked for this kind of end.

I'm staying at the Dodge House. I-

I'll be obliged if you show me my son's grave tomorrow.

Well, I doubt if I can do that, Mrs. Randolph.

You see, your son's buried up on Boot Hill.

They don't make much ceremony

about headstones or markers up there,

especially when there's no kinfolk.

My son

in an unmarked grave.

Buried like an animal.

Get in there.

Hooray, you got me here.

Darcy.

Now, you feel any better before you drop dead?

Shut up, you little quarrelling scum.

You been asking for this.

Ah!

What's the matter?

Bad heart.

I didn't think I could make it this far.

Better get you up to Doc's.

Wait, listen.

The kid.

He's one of the gang

that broke open the bank at Caldwell.

Nobody could identify the others,

but they seen him

shoot down the cashier.

Now, don't you try to talk, Darcy, we'll take care of him.

I ain't finished.

You can't keep him in jail.

They swore to break him loose.

Who?

The rest of the gang.

I got a room reserved

at Dodge House.

Keep the boy out of sight

till the 7:10 train in the morning.

Maybe we better get you out of here too.

Get a shotgun, Chester.

Do you think you can make it up to Doc's place?

If I could make it here with this flea-whelped killer,

it oughta be a cinch.

Good.

Tasker Sloan,

he heads up the bunch.

Looks on the kid like his only son.

He'll be here, if he ain't already.

He's a bad one.

All right, get him outta here, Chester.

Oh, so very young.

You could almost be my own son.

How can you be so smug and unfeelin'?

I'll take him now, Mrs. Randolph.

Is this the way it was with Hollis?

A mad-dog sheriff?

Look, I don't have much time, Mrs. Randolph.

You better leave.

I understand, marshal. I had a taste of Yankee law.

Sheriff Darcy was born in Louisiana.

He's as Southern as you can get.

Come on.

You call yourself lawmen?

You're murderers.

Don't you worry, son.

I won't let them shoot you down.

Ah.

Dodge ain't far away.

This is the last chance we got

to make sure we see eye to eye.

I didn't want him in with us, but I let him have his way.

And now it's up to me to cut him free.

What are you tryin' to say, Tasker?

There ain't no proof against any of us

for that job in Caldwell.

So if anybody wants his split of the bank money and get out,

talk up.

I guess we see eye to eye.

Just one thing.

Yeah.

Take it easy with that Pecos whiskey.

I like Pecos whiskey.

It's good and sully.

Come on.

The sheriff didn't tell me what your name was.

Blackie.

Just Blackie.

If that's good enough for the Ranger black book,

it's good enough for a cow-town marshal.

You're as young as you look?

They say a man's as old as he's lived.

All right, let's skip that too.

Would you mind telling me where you're from?

From the North,

but I ain't carrying any burdens from yesterday, marshal.

You are, sonny,

but you just don't know it.

All right, Mr. Marshal, if you're so curious,

I'll tell you what you wanna know.

My old man joined up with the Illinois Volunteers.

He left my ma and us kids in a dark hole

with nothin' but dirt to eat.

Well, he died eatin' dirt.

He died of scurvy in Lawrence.

You're not much credit to his memory, are ya?

All I want's money,

and all the things it can buy for a man.

Hey, let's talk about you, marshal.

I figure you to make about a hundred a month

on the up and up, right?

How much you pay for the saddle on your horse?

Thirty-five dollars?

Hey, I paid a hundred for mine.

A genuine Padgett made in Waco.

Yeah, but I'm still ridin' free on mine, sonny.

But for how long, marshal?

Tomorrow morning?

Oh, I wouldn't count too much on those friends of yours.

Oh, learn some sense, marshal.

Make a deal with Tasker.

Money don't mean nothin' to him.

You could afford a decent saddle and maybe buy into a saloon.

You're even younger than you look.

All right.

You get yourself dead for a lousy hundred a month.

Kid

out of

sight.

What'd he say, Doc?

You better go get Matt over here right away.

All right.

Where'd the sheriff take the kid?

I don't know.

Oh!

Well, try to remember.

I let them out on the flats.

They made it into town their own way.

Are you gonna keep on lying?

Agh!

Who is it?

It's Mrs. Randolph, marshal.

I heard you say you were bringin' the boy here,

so I was waitin'.

My room's just down the hall.

Is there a rule against feeding your prisoners, marshal,

or do you enjoy watching 'em starve?

Come in, Mrs. Randolph.

Say, is that for me, ma'am?

I could sure do with some soup.

Put it down right there.

Get outta here, boy!

Go find your friends!

Run!

Mrs. Randolph, I know you can't help-

I don't care. I don't care, I'm not sorry.

You're a man with everything on your side,

and he's just a-

A killer!

Now, please get outta here.

Mr. Dillon, Doc says he wants you

up to his office right away,

but you better be careful.

His friends just rode into town

and they beat up on the stage driver, and th-

They're probably out prowlin' up Front Street by now.

Now, what do you suppose they're up to?

All right, look, keep this door locked

and don't let anybody in but me.

And watch him.

Yes, sir.

I wonder how much Darcy paid for his saddle.

Huh?

What?

Couldn't have been much with a wife and two kids.

You need a drink?

Nope.

Oh. Oh, Matt.

Here's the key to the prisoner's handcuffs.

Now, I did something maybe I shouldn't have done.

I made him a promise for you just before he died.

Oh?

Yeah, I promised him

that you'd catch the 7:10 for Wichita with that boy.

Couple of deputies will meet you there

and take him on to Caldwell.

Well, I'll sure try.

You got any Pecos whiskey?

Afraid not, mister.

Then break open the best. Fast.

Yes, sir.

Where's the marshal in this town?

Have ya tried his office?

Well, pretty,

you got as much sand as you have looks.

Everybody else seems to be struck dumb.

Yeah, I tried his office. Where else is he likely to be?

He's usually around when he's needed.

Well, I got need of him.

Stick around. He'll find you.

He's pretty good at that.

I'd be obliged if you tell him Tasker Sloan's looking for him.

And if he happens to be stone-blind,

tell him we'll be ridin' up and down Front Street

lookin' for him all night.

Chester. Wake up.

Hm?

Come here.

Look.

We gotta get him to the train.

We best go down the back way.

Let's go.

Tasker!

It's me! I'm up here!

That's all I wanted to know.

What do you think they're plannin' on doin'?

I don't know.

Keep watchin'.

I'm going downstairs and take a look around.

Keep watching.

Yeah?

Let me in.

Well, I don't know where they are or what they're up to,

but we only got ten minutes to get him on the train.

Get your hat.

Come on, come on, let's go.

Oh, ma'am.

I don't know your interest in me,

but don't you fret now.

I got all the help I need waitin' right out here.

All right, let's keep moving.

Uh, not too close, huh, marshal?

I wouldn't wanna get hit.

I don't think your friend Sloan wants you to get hit either.

And I'm sort of counting on it.

Chester,

keep me covered.

If you see anything worth scattering with that shotgun,

do it.

I sure will, Mr. Dillon.

All right, let's go.

Why didn't you give up, marshal?

You just keep walkin'.

All right, now, when I tell you,

you start runnin' for that train, you understand?

You're figurin' of shootin' me down, ain't you?

No, I'm gonna be right beside you, sonny, all the way.

But you can't do that-

If there's any shootin',

you're gonna be right square in the middle.

That's murder.

Get goin'.

Tasker, be careful!

He's trying to get me killed!

Duck, kid!

Now!

Duck, kid!

Mr. Dillon.

Mr. Dillon, are you hurt bad?

Are you all right?

Yeah, I'm all right, Chester.

You know what to do, Chester.

Yes, sir.

Here, take the gun.

Will you give me a hand, here?

Marshal Dillon.

I was wrong.

You've got your duty.

A terrible duty.

Another unmarked grave.

Well, maybe we can get a marker

for both of them this time, Mrs. Randolph.

For that boy

and your son.