This was Tim Holt playing the boss of his own nitwit stagecoach line, along with Richard Martin playing Chito Rafferty for the last time – apparently this was his 33rd outing. By now Holt was even chunkier but still looked the part runnin' jumpin' an' shootin', and looked relevant to the plot of yet another competent b western movie. He was only about 33 years old at the time but retired from films after this – the end of the gravy trail.
About to sell his and Chito's business they save the life and continue to protect a mysterious sinister grey templed gent with plenty of money who has to get somewhere fast to get away from a mysterious duo out to crease him. The plots thicken and the film bristles with mysterious baddies after the guy's money, eventually you're wondering if everyone has nobbled everyone else at least once with this aim. Not a very large cast and a not very large plot still make this entertaining to watch, just don't expect too much from a b film and it'll nearly always deliver. In fact it's fascinating in places: when Carver is initially shot at and his lack of gratitude but the depth of his pockets; lawyer Bronson's enigmatic appearance at the roadhouse; the escape from the bedroom down yes a knotted bedsheet; many others.
Although the script only paid lip service to human nature and plot development it's still nice and relaxing with nothing in it to worry about, like taking an hour's holiday. The biggest puzzle to me is all those clean crisp banknotes were so manhandled how come there was any left to handle at all by the end, and with such vicissitudes as they had gone through Chito was no fool in wanting to spend his share as fast as possible.
