Sunny Afternoon

Gun smoke brought to you by Chesterfield. To put a smile in your smoking, always by Chesterfield. Made the modern way with Accure. Around Dodge City and in the territory on West, there's just one way to handle the killers and the spoilers.

And that's with a U.S. Marshal and the smell of gun smoke. Towering William Conrad, the transcribed story of the violence that moved West with young America. And the story of a man who moved with it.

I'm that man, Matt Dillon, United States Marshal. The first man they look for and the last they want to meet. It's a chancy job, and it makes a man watchful. And a little lonely. The worst one are we'd ever had in Dodge.

The worst one I'd ever seen anywhere on the plains. It'd have been a short summer with a rain starting a month early and turn into snow and sleet before the end of September. From then on it was one blizzard right after another, roaring down off a flat basin, freezing the creeks in the ponds and piling up snow in the gullies.

Stock suffered and men suffered. And it got so nobody in town to do anything or go anywhere unless there was some reason they just had to. It was a wonder that started out cold, and it kept getting colder.

One of the few places in town where a man could go to get warm was a long branch. They had a big pot bellied stove there that had taken four-foot chunk of cottonwood. Most nights they kept it red hot.

Matt, you want to know a secret? Yeah, sure, kitty. What is it? I'm in love with a man who invented wool underwear. You? Under that? You're darn right. Don't let the dress fool you. Well, I can't do much good.