49-xx-xx ep36 Bullets for Boot Hill

Frontier Town, the saga of the roaring west. Frontier Town, El Paso, Cheyenne, Calgary, Tombstone. Frontier Town. Here is the adventurous story of the early west, the tamed and the untamed. From the Pecos to Powder River, Dodge City to Poca Flat, these are the towns they fought to live in and lived to fight for.

Teaming crucibles of pioneer freedom. There, if you know anything about Dose Riers, our frontier town, then you've probably heard about me, Chad Remington.

Oh, not that my name means anything, or am I an important citizen. But it just so happens that I'm a frontier lawyer, just about the only lawyer in the whole county and for hundreds of miles around.

To tell the truth were it not for the little ranch my father left me, I'd never make both ends meet practice and law. But even with the direct type of law we sometimes have on the frontier we do have a court and we do have a judge. The fact of the matter is that Libby,

the judge's daughter, may someday become Mrs. Chad Remington. I say may advisely, and it's all because of what happened not much more than a week ago. It all started when a crowd of Hootlin's road into those rears, airing their lungs and triggering their gun.

Oh, oh, oh, oh. Let's fly, I want, come on. Let's go into blackjack space and wet our whistles with some of his best. Come on, boy. Hey, hey, hey, Frankie. You're all the time boasting about what a crack shot you are.

Think you can hit that little gold eagle on that flagpole across the street? I sure can. Watch. Oh, oh, oh. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. You missed me the mile. Tell you what we'll do. We'll all shoot for it.