Pussy Cats

Around Dodge City and in the territory on West, there's just one way to handle the killers and the spoilers. And that's where the U.S. Marshall and the smell of gun smoke. Gun smoke, starring William Conrad, the story of the violence that moved West with Young America, the story of a man who moved with it, Matt Dillon, United States Marshall.

Chester had been helping me with some paperwork after the regular day ended, And we didn't get through until about ten o'clock. Had we were both kind of tired. Well, sure, I never did think I'd hold out, Mr. Dylan.

I got a cramp in my hand and a crick in the neck. What I need to be here. I'll join you, Chester. I locked up the office and walked down to the Texas Trail with Chester.

I guess the best thing that could be said for the night was, and it was still not cold, not warm, somewhere in that between that makes you wish it would be one thing or the other.

Our maybe it was because we were tired that it didn't feel right. The bar wasn't crowded and right off Kitty came over to our table with beer. I thought she looked kind of worried. Hi, Dayma. Oh, no, no, not much.

Oh, I declare Miss Kitty this beer tastes darker than usual. No brew, probably, Chester. No, I suppose. Saint Matt, you ever seen the stranger before, the tall one, the bar? Huh? No, no, no. My heavens, Mr. Dillon, he is a lofty man and that's for sure.

Look at him, a stretch out. What about him, Kitty? Well, I don't know. Sam gave me the eye a bit ago just for you, Kim, is he? Huh? You trying to make trouble? Sam's not sure.