There's a Western feel to this week's DVD column and, in the time-honoured tradition, we start with a programmer. In fact, we have a double bill of Bs from the Poverty Row outfit, Producers Releasing Corporation. In 1941, Bob Steele vacated the role of Billy the Kid in PRC's long-running series to play Tucson Smith in the Three Mesquiteers franchise based at rival B-hive Republic Pictures. Producer Sigmund Neufeld needed a replacement in a hurry and signed Larry `Buster' Crabbe, who was a firm Saturday matinee favourite after taking the leads in serials involving Flash Gordon, Buck Rogers and Red Barry .Crabbe was to play William Bonney in 13 movies before his character named was changed to Billy Carson and he teamed with sidekick Al `Fuzzy' St John in a further 21 adventures into 1946.

Neither of the titles twinned here is particularly memorable. But they are competently made and introduce modern audiences to the kind of cheap and cheerful picture that the minor studios churned out either side of the Second World War. In Trapped (1942), Buster Crabbe, Al St John and Malcolm `Bud' McTaggart are busted out of jail by a mysterious stranger. When a crime spree breaks out in the nearby towns, the trio are blamed, as the thieves exactly match their description . But, having come face to face with the impostors, Crabbe is able to convince sheriff Ted Adams that they are innocent and, after he saves his life, Adams is prepared to accept his word.

He thinks that the real gang is operating out of Mesa City, an outlaw settlement controlled by Glenn Strange. But, while our heroes are able to capture Budd Buzter, Wally West and George Chesebro, crooked judge Walter McGrail sets them free and Strange arranges for Adams to be replaced as sheriff by henchman Jack Ingram and he comes after Crabbe and his pals, while the false threesome set off in pursuit of Eddie Phillips's stagecoach. However, this being what was commonly known as an `oater' or a `horse opera' that was aimed at adolescent boys as grown-up audiences, justice was meted out with flashing fists in a typical B brawl rather than with flying bullets.

Anne Jeffreys made her debut as the ingenue fluttering her eyelashes innocently at the square-jawed Buster. But he rides off into the sunset rather than putting down roots and director Sam Newfield (this time directing under his own name rather than the pseudonym Scott Sherman) soon pitched him into yet more trouble at the start of Smoking Guns (1942), as Crabbe, St John and new companion Dave O'Brien are forced to flee after being falsely accused of a crime. Out on the plains, however, they come across Richard Fraser and his son, Joel Newfield (the director's son). Fraser has been wounded and needs urgent medical attention. However, sheriff Ted Adams rides up to arrest the fugitives and takes them to Stone City, where Fraser is mercilessly killed with a hypodermic needle by scheming doctor Milt Kibbee, who chastises Adams for failing to do the job properly in the first place.

Taking advantage of the distraction to escape, Crabbe and his pals take Newfield home to mother Joan Barclay, who tells them that her husband was murdered by the John Merton, the leader of the corrupt ranchers co-operative that is striving to cheat honest farmers out of their crops or drive them off their land. Snooping around in town, Crabbe discovers that Merton and Kibbee are in cahoots and are keen to clear the territory before an army camp is established nearby so that they can clean up by supplying it. But, during the course of the investigation, O'Brien is wounded and St John unwittingly takes him to Kibbee's surgery.

Viewers of a certain age might recognise O'Brien from the lively Pete Smith Specialities shorts that Channel 4 used to use as programme fillers in the 1980s and 90s. Those accustomed to seeing him as a loveable buffoon akin to Britain's own Richard Massingham might struggle to accept him in a dramatic role, albeit one that is essentially comic relief. But Merton and Kibbee make suitably hissable villains, while Crabbe's heroism is as briskly efficient as Jack Greenhalgh's monochrome cinematography and Holbrook N. Todd's editing.

The struggle for control of the land is much more compellingly presented by André De Toth in Ramrod (1947). Adapted by Jack Moffitt, Graham Baker and Cecile Kramer from a story by veteran Western writer Luke Short, this was originally distributed by United Artists. As one might expect of its underrated, one-eyed Hungarian director, this offers an uncompromising insight into frontier life and it is interesting to note that such features presented American audiences with a highly unflattering portrait of their ancestors. Moreover, given that the Cold War had already descended and that the House UnAmerican Activities Committee was about to launch a Communist witchhunt in Hollywood, it is also somewhat surprising to see naked capitalism being depicted in such a unflattering light. 

Refusing to knuckle under to local cattle baron Preston Foster, Veronica Lake defies cowardly rancher father Charles Ruggles and becomes engaged to sheep farmer Ian MacDonald. As feisty as she is beautiful, Lake is determined to resist Foster's expansionist policies. But MacDonald lacks her backbone and allows himself to be run out of town, although not before he has left the Circle 66 ranch to Lake. Bent on defending herself, she hires Joel McCrea to be her foreman or ramrod and he accepts because he needs a steady job to help him beat the addiction to booze he has been suffering since his wife and child were brutally murdered. McCrea asks old pal Don DeFore to be his assistant. However, they are unable to prevent Foster's men from burning down her home and steal a stone shack from his ramrod, Ray Teal, so she has somewhere to lay her head.

Sheriff Donald Crisp proves powerless to stand up to Foster, even after he orders henchman Wally Cassell to beat up ranch hand Nestor Pava so badly that he is barely recognisable and blinded in one eye. He is nursed by dressmaker Arleen Whelan, who has long been in love with McCrea and urges him to be careful. But he is rapidly losing control of the situation, as DeFore shoots Teal in cold blood to avenge Pava and Lake then persuades him to stampede her herd across her territory so she can put the blame on Foster. However, when Crisp goes to arrest him, Foster kills him and accuses Cassell of the crime.

Lake admits to loyal cowboy Robert Wood that she ordered the stampede and he is unsure what to do for the best. Meanwhile, McCrea has decided to take the law into his own hands and shoots Cassell, only for him to reveal with his dying breath that Foster murdered Crisp. When he attempts to right the wrong, McCrea is wounded in the shoulder while gunning down one of Foster's thugs (a young Lloyd Bridges) and he staggers to Whelan's house, where he learns that Pava has died of his injuries. With Foster searching the town for McCrea, DeFore hides him in an abandoned mine. But Lake gives away his hiding place and DeFore sacrifices himself so that McCrea can escape on Lake's horse.

Before he goes, DeFore confesses to killing Teal, but says nothing about the stampede and Lake (who is now in love with McCrea) is relieved that he still considers her an innocent victim. DeFore is shot in the back by Foster and McCrea vows vengeance. However, as he is about to leave for town, Wood tells him that Lake ordered the stampede. So, when McCrea kills Foster in a dawn shootout, he spurns Lake's offer to run the ranch with her because he despises her cruelty and coldness and goes, instead, to ask Whelan to marry him. 

Despite announcing after Preston Sturges's Sullivan's Travels (1941) that `life is too short for two films with Veronica Lake', Joel McCrea agreed to a reunion on this uncompromising Western, as she was married to the director. However, he had the solace of knowing that he would jilt Lake in the last reel and opt for the cosy charms of a proper homemaker. In many ways, therefore, Lake was playing a prairie femme fatale and there is a lingering sense that this is a film noir shot in bright sunshine instead of lowering shadow. Russell Harlan's photography is certainly excellent, as are the performances, with even Lake being a little more animated than she usually was outside her pairings with Alan Ladd. But this is very much De Toth's picture, with his daring use of authentic violence reinforcing his bleak view of both the American Dream and those prepared to seize it by fair means or foul. Sadly, however, any hopes he had of arresting his wife's career decline were dashed and the couple divorced in 1952, by which time Lake was drinking heavily and working behind the bar of a rundown hotel.

A little history lesson is required before tackling Edwin L. Marin's Fighting Man of the Plains (1949), the first of two teamings of Randolph Scott and Dale Robertson (who passed away in February this year at the age of 89). The opening scene recreates the infamous attack on Lawrence, Kansas on 21 August 1863 when 183 men and boys were slaughtered by Quantrill's Raiders. Commanded by former teacher William Quantrill, this band of Confederate brigands specialised in ambushing Union patrols and supply trains. But Captain Quantrill was not above attacking civilians and, even though he was killed in 1865, henchmen like the James and Younger brothers continued to ride under his name and applied their guerilla war tactics to robbing banks and trains.

In this adaptation by Frank Gruber of his own novel, Randolph Scott is a Raider and, during the desecration of Lawrence, he accidentally kills a man he believes murdered his own brother. His action is witnessed by the victim's daughter, Joan Taylor, who informs her uncle, Barry Kelley (the man really responsible for the death of Scott's brother) what she had seen. Six years after the Civil War ends, Kelley hires James Millican from the Pleasanton Detective Agency of Chicago to bring Scott to book. However, although he gets his man and takes him aboard a river ferry in handcuffs, Millican is swept overboard when a boat lurches unexpectedly and, when two bodies are found on the shore the following morning, the quick-thinking Scott passes himself off as the detective.

Victor Jury severs the cuffs and Scott travels by stagecoach to Kansas City, where he keeps up his pretence on reporting to  Pleasanton agency manager Cliff Clark. Kelley is also in town and readily accepts that Scott is the detective and seems relieved that his prisoner was buried on the riverbank. But Scott decides not to hang around too long and resigns his post to relocate to Lanyard, where he gets a job laying track for the new railroad. Much to his frustration, Scott discovers that Kelley works for Harry Cheshire, the vice president of the Missouri, Kansas and Pacific Railroad. But he seems to win his favour when he rescues Taylor from some rapacious cattle hands and Kelley backs down when the locals back Scott to be their new marshal over his candidate, Bill Williams.

However, Jory and Jane Nigh, who run the Eldorado saloon, have guessed Scott's true identity, but they play along when Jory helps Scott arrest some cowboys causing trouble at a barn dance. On returning to his room, Scott finds old Quantrill pal Dale Robertson (actually in the role of Jesse James) waiting for him and he warns him against targeting in the town as he is a changed man and knows where his duty lies. Robertson rides away promising to return. But, in the interim, Lanyard prospers and Kelley becomes increasingly powerful, as he sets up a homestead company and bribes local officials into allowing him to put barbed wire up around his properties and prevent cattle from being driven through the town.

He also arranges for Williams to become Scott's deputy. But, when he kills a man, Scott fires him and he exacts his revenge by persuading Kelley to bring Pleasanton agent Berry Kroeger to Lanyard to verify his credentials. However, Jory and Kroeger served in the 14th Missouri Cavalr together and he begs him not to expose Scott, as he is doing such a good job for the town. Recognising the situation, Kroeger agrees to keep silent. But, when ex-Raider Paul Fix (who had caused Scott to kill the wrong man at Lawrence) is arrested for killing a shopkeeper, he recognises Scott in court and betrays him in the hope of saving his own neck.

Scott resigns, but the judge sentences Fix to hang. Seizing his opportunity, Kelley orders Williams to kill the judge, the prosecutor and Jory and appoints his own judge who indicts Scott for the murder of Kelley's brother. Taylor, who had started to fall in love with Scott is appalled and is happy to see him go to the gallows. But Robertson rides in to rescue him and helps him gun down Williams, who has tried to rob the bank. As mayhem ensues, Kelley and Fix are also killed in a battle with Roberton's gang and the story ends with Scott dusting down his badge and Nigh walking across the street to stand by his side.

Atmospherically photographed in Cinecolor by Fred Jackman, Jr., this is a lively, if somewhat convoluted sagebrush saga that blurs the line between fact and fiction with some aplomb. Scott, who had been making Westerns since The Virginian (1929) and would become an even more iconic figure in the genre following his collaborations with Budd Boetticher, is on fine form as the good bad man (who had been a staple of Western literature for around a century) and it is clear he has a good rapport with Marin, who would direct him seven times in all. Barry Kelley provides the snarling villainy, while Robertson cuts a dash as Jesse James, in spite of his limited screen time. The romantic finale is something of an afterthought, but it is noteworthy that Scott goes for the tart with the heart rather than the gingham girl.

Once again working with producer Nat Holt and director Edwin L. Marin, Scott was joined by veteran Western sidekick George `Gabby' Hayes for what would prove to be his final big-screen appearance before he moved into television. With Colorado standing in for Canada, The Cariboo Trail (1950) was again magnificently photographed by Fred Jackman, Jr., and, if the action feels a little formulaic, it is staged and played with a care and polish that made this very American genre such a favourite with international audiences.

Randolph Scott, buddy Bill Williams and their Chinese cook Lee Tung Foo are driving a herd of steers along the Cariboo Trail from Montana to British Columbia. Williams knows that the Chilcotin area was once the site of a gold rush and hopes to make a find, while Scott is keen to establish a ranch. Unwilling to pay a bridge toll to Victor Jory, Scott stampedes his animals and makes it across unscathed, where he is joined by grizzled old prospector George `Gabby' Hayes and his burro, Hannibal. As they camp, however, Jory exacts his revenge by stampeding Scott's cattle and Williams is so badly injured that he has to lose his left arm. Having lost their horses, Scott pulls Williams along on a makeshift bier and is grateful when a stagecoach takes him to Carson Creek. However, Jory runs the town and saloon owner Karin Booth warns Scott that Jory is not a man to be messed with.

Foo offers to put his life savings into staking a claim in the gold fields and Hayes shows him and Williams how to pan. But Scott notices that Jim Davis is selling beef in the town with his brand mark on it and accuses him of rustling his herd. Scott kills Davis in a gunfight and Williams complains that he is always causing trouble for him. Sensing an opportunity to divide the friends, Jory makes Williams an offer to become his employee. Meanwhile, Scott, Hayes and Foo have started looking for likely ranching spots. But they are captured by Blackfoot Indians and only escape thanks to the courage of Hannibal the donkey. However, they become separated and, while Foo returns to Carson Creek to become Booth's new cook, Scott finds gold in a mountain stream and learns from the assayer that it is worth $900.

The only trouble is, as town boss, Scott can only claim his cash from Jory and henchman Douglas Kennedy deducts $310 to pay for the bridge destroyed by the stampeding steers. He also announces to the townsfolk that Scott has struck lucky and they insist he shares his fortune and he only just evades their clutches with the help of Foo. Back in the valley, Scott meets up with Hayes, who has been joined by his widowed sister-in-law Mary Kent, who has brought 300 cattle from Montana with foreman Dale Robertson. She asks Scott to guide them to Chilcotin and he agrees for a quarter of the herd. But Jory is determined to make life difficult and cuts a deal with Chief Fred Libby to attack the drive as it passes through Blackfoot territory.

Suddenly sober after hitting the bottle to forget his woes, Williams learns of the plot and rides out with Booth to try and warn Scott and Hayes. The Blackfoot attack under cover of darkness and Scott and his men hold them off. But Jory causes another stampede and they are lucky the beasts don't trample their camp. Williams arrives and is wounded in an exchange with Jory. He dies in Scott's arms, but the villains are vanquished and Scott rides out at the head of the drive the next morning to start his new life.

In many ways, this is a little more than a programmer. Frank Gruber's screenplay from a John Rhodes Sturdy story is far from original and sequences like Hannibal using his kicking skills to outwit the Blackfoot belong in a more kid-friendly Roy Rogers or Gene Autry outing. The Chinese and Native American stereotyping is also regrettable, while the romantic subplot is very clumsily handled. But the Cinecolor is evocative and Scott and Jory are well-matched adversaries. Moreover, the dependable Bill Williams does well as the disenchanted buddy who sees the error of his ways through the bottom of a glass.

The focus shifts on to a couple of Wild West heroines in Lesley Selander's Dakota Lil (1950) and Harry Keller's Rose of Cimarron (1952). Respectively photographed in Cinecolor and Naturalcolor, both films were scripted by Maurice Geraghty, although the former came from a story by Frank Gruber and once again uses historical characters in a fictional adventure. But the fascination in each case lies in the lead performances of Marie Windsor and Mala Powers. Windsor was invariably cast as bad girls in B movies and noirs, but Powers was better known for playing Roxane opposite Oscar winner José Ferrer in Michael Gordon's Cyrano de Bergerac and the rape victim in Ida Lupino's controversial drama, Outrage (both 1950). But, here, Powers was allowed to be brassy and bold as Windsor, as they proved to be a match for any of the menfolk who crossed their paths.

Having made his name tracking down Geronimo, government agent George Montgomery is on the trail of the Hole in the Wall Gang, which has been carrying out audacious raids across the entire United States. Led by Rod Cameron, the outlaws have stolen a consignment of treasury notes that will be worthless until they are signed by the president and cashier of the issuing bank. So, Montgomery goes in search of Marie Windsor, who is an expert forger, as well as a sultry chanteuse.

Montgomery finds Windsor in the Mexican town of Matamoros and rescues her and pianist John Emery before they can be rounded up and extradited. Back Stateside, Montgomery makes for Wind River, Wyoming in the hope of intercepting the shipment of stolen notes. But Windsor and Emery give him the slip and are already working at Cameron's gambling joint by the time he catches up with them. He convinces Windsor to help him double-cross Cameron and takes a job at the card tables, where he discovers that fellow dealer Wallace Ford is also an agent.

Windsor seduces Cameron, who takes her to the gang's secret hideout and agrees a 50/50 cut if she forges the signatures on all of the notes. However, while Cameron is away on a raid, Montgomery and Ford bust into the den and arrest Jack Lambert, a gunman with a fearsome reputation. As they ride back into town, Cameron tries to rescue Lambert, who is killed in the attempt and Montgomery has to use a hacksaw to remove the handcuffs binding him to the corpse. When Cameron finds Lambert, he knows immediately, therefore, that there is a traitor in his midst. He thinks it's Ford and strangles him. But Windsor witnesses the crime and thinks better of exposing Montgomery as a spy.

She realises she has fallen in love with him and agrees to help nail Cameron, even though she will have to go to jail herself for her past misdemeanours. The following morning, she goes to the hideout to start work on the banknotes. But, as she sets up her engraving machine, Cameron smells a rat and accuses her of being in league with Montgomery. He tries to strangle her and she manages to get free and shoot at him. However, he continues to come after her and is only saved when Montgomery rides up and kills Cameron with an expertly thrown knife.

Onetime stuntman George Montgomery was never the most dynamic actor and it would be invidious to compare his performance with that of Steve McQueen in Tom Horn, a 1980 Western inspired by the same fabled lawman that Montgomery plays here. But he rather lumbers through this serviceable picture and it's clear a schemer like Windsor's no-nonsense femme fatale would have made mincemeat of him. Frank Gruber would go on to pen such pioneering TV Western series as Tales of Wells Fargo (1957), The Texan (1958) and Shotgun Slade (1959). But, while this may not be one of his finest achievements, Selander (who had survived the studio era churning out oaters and serial episodes) keeps the action brisk and it is fascinating to think that life was still this lawless in the further flung reaches of the United States in 1899.

Mala Powers was lucky to be alive to make Rose of Cimarron (1952). Following her early success, she became something of a pin-up and went out to Korea in 1951 as part of a USO tour to entertain the troops. Unfortunately, she was stricken with a blood disease and the attempt to cure it with chloromycetin produced a severe allergic reaction that attacked her bone marrow. She recovered from this appalling incident and only finally succumbed to complications from leukaemia at the age of 76 in 2007. But her illness had a deleterious impact on her career, as while she was signed to a contract by RKO chief Howard Hughes, she struggled to land prestige roles and ended up becoming something of a B queen in both Western and science-fiction vehicles that were way beneath her talent. Not that this lively offering is entirely without its merits.

When a wagon train passing through Oklahoma is attacked by Comanches, Cherokee Jim Davis finds a baby girl amidst the debris presents her to parents Monte Blue and Argentina Brunetti, who raise her as their own. Years pass and Mala Powers is content to live with the tribe, having known no other way of life. But, when Blue and Brunetti are killed trying to stop Bill Williams, Dick Curtis and Lane Bradford from stealing horses, Powers vows vengeance and rides on to the plain to find the missing skewbald, sorrel and palomino.

Powers fetches up in Dodge City and seeks the advice of Marshal Jack Buetel, who tells her that she must let the law take its course rather than seeking to dispense her own brand of justice. Instantly smitten by the dashing lawman, Powers agrees to abide by his decision. But, on stumbling across Curtis and Bradford, Powers gets into a gunfight and kills them both. Buetel is furious with her and locks her in a cell alongside Williams's sidekick Art Smith. However, when Williams and Bob Steele break Smith out of his cell, Williams takes such a shine to Powers that he sets her free, too.

Realising he has let his heart rule his head, Williams dispatches Curtis's brother, William Phipps, to ambush Powers. He bungles the job, however, and Williams appears to play the hero by shooting him in the back and convincing Powers that he was the third man responsible for killing her parents and stealing the prized horses. But, while she is reluctant to trust Williams, Powers is infuriated by Buetel when he arrests Davis on some trumped up charges in a bid to lure her back to Dodge City so he can use her to arrest Williams.

Ignoring the $1000 bounty on her own head, Powers learns that Buetel plans to take Davis to federal prison on the same train that Williams and his gang are planning to rob. She rides frantically across country to board the train and pull the emergency cord before the locomotive was derailed on the track that Williams had sabotaged. However, she cannot prevent the raid and a fierce gun battle ensues, which allows Powers and Davis to make their getaway. Still believing that Williams is on her side, Powers tries to nurse the wounded Smith. But, as he dies, he confesses that Williams had murdered her family and Powers is bent on killing him when he returns from retrieving the stashed loot from its hiding place beneath a clump of trees. However, having been forced to shoot Steele for attempting to cheat him, Williams is off his guard as Buetel arrives to pick him off after a breakneck chase and Buetel and Powers return to Dodge City.

Having started out as an editor, Harry Keller knew how to put a picture together. But was rarely given anything but Westerns to make during his spells at Republic and Universal and eventually drifted into television. Yet, this was the man who was hired by the studio to shoot new material for the reworked version of Orson Welles's A Touch of Evil (1958) and did a sufficiently good job for Welles to commend him on his ability to replicate his style. Here, Keller keeps things simple in allowing veteran cinematographer Karl Struss to make the most of the splendid scenery and accomplished production designer Boris Leven's sets. Powers is head and shoulders above her co-stars, but the versatile Williams delivers some hissable villainy and, if Buetel occasionally overreaches, he can hardly be blamed, as he had was only just returning to the screen after Howard Hughes had effectively wrecked his career by pfaffing around over the production and release of the infamous Jane Russell vehicle, The Outlaw (1943) and then by refusing to release him to co-star with John Wayne in Howard Hawks's Red River (1948).

In many ways, we have saved the best until last with Allan Dwan's The Restless Breed (1957). This was the last Western produced by the seasoned director, who made nearly 300 silent shorts and over 130 features in a career that spanned half a century to 1961. Among his most celebrated works are the Douglas Fairbanks vehicles A Modern Musketeer (1917) and Robin Hood (1922), the Gloria Swanson melodrama Manhandled (1924), the Shirley Temple duo of Heidi (1937) and Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm (1938), the Pacific War saga Sands of Iwo Jima (1949) and the noirs Slightly Scarlet (1956) and The River's Edge (1957). Dwan was also responsible for some fine Westerns, including Frontier Marshal (1939), Silver Lode (1954) and Tennessee's Partner (1955). But this slyly comic tale is his best.

As the Civil War ends, the US government risks being drawn into the struggle raging in Mexico between the Emperor Maximilian and Benito Juárez because gun runners are supplying the hated regime with stolen weapons. When special agent Harry Woods is killed while monitoring the gang led by Jim Davis, chief James Flavin summons lawyer Scott Brady to break the news of his father's passing. Flavin informs Brady that Jay C. Flippen has been placed in charge of the investigation and offers Brady Woods's badge. But he only takes his pistol, as he intends taking revenge with hot lead rather than a cool head.

Arriving in Mission, Texas, Brady makes contact with Rhys Williams, a preacher who runs a refuge for half-breed orphans and who alone had known the real reason for Woods's presence in the town. Brady conceals his identity and, having watched Williams's ward, Anne Bancroft, perform an exotic dance, he asks for a place to stay. Brady is billeted in his father's room and Williams warns him to be careful, as Mission belongs to Davis and nobody is safe from his cruel ways. Their chat is interrupted, however, by the sound of gunfire and they run into the street to see Sheriff Myron Healey being killed by some of Davis's henchmen. However, when Brady challenges their leader, Leo Gordon, he backs down and retreats to the local saloon. Mayor Harry Cheshire offers Healey's badge to Brady, but he refuses and convinces the townsfolk that he is a ruthless gunfighter when he wounds Gordon in a showdown in the bar. Indeed, Bancroft is so taken by the handsome stranger that she lets him steal a kiss when he returns to his quarters.

As he cleans his gun on the mission steps during the Sunday service, Brady is attacked by Gordon and Bancroft tens to his wounded arm. But Williams is disturbed by the relationship blossoming between them and asks Brady to find alternative accommodation. He consoles the sobbing Bancroft and moves into Healey's old room in the nearby hotel, where he is visited by Flippen, who ticks him off for trying to play by his own rules and reminds him what an upstanding figure his father had been. But, as Flippen tells Williams about Brady, their discussion is overheard by Scott Marlowe, an informer working for Davis, who reports back to Gordon. He makes for Mexico to inform Davis that Brady is trouble and he rides into town the following day, as Williams and Flippen try to urge Brady to forget his vendetta and let the law handle the situation.

Bancroft is also desperate for Brady to see sense and risks her reputation by coming to his room at night to plead with him to leave town and start a new life with her. But Brady's course of action seems set when Davis shoots Flippen as he tries to arrest him. This time, however, as the dying lawman offers Brady his badge, he takes it so that he can challenge Davis in the saloon with right on his side. Sneering at his adversary, Davis goes for his gun, but Brady beats him to the draw and lets his gun belt drop to the floor before sweeping Bancroft into his arms.

Although this is a tough tale, with plenty of gunplay and a jaundiced view of the efficacy of the law, Dwan allows plenty of sly humour to seep into the action. He seems amused by the amount of eavesdropping in Steve Fisher's screenplay and stages much of the snooping with a parodic sense of melodrama. He also risks the ire of the Production Code officials by making it clear that there is a passionate charge between Brady and the half-breed Bancroft. But the potentially intriguing gun-running aspect of the story quickly turns out to be what Alfred Hitchcock would call a `macguffin' and the picture soon settles into being a formulaic encounter between a man in a black hat and one in an off-white one. But the dash of Dwan's direction and his insistence on taking a B movie as seriously as any of his more prestigious outings makes this stand out.