This was adapted from a Gold Medal novel by "Jonas Ward" (William Ard, I think) called The Name's Buchanan. That's what the movie should have been called, since Randolph repeats the line several times. It's a weird movie, and Scott looks either amused or bemused (I couldn't decide which) all the way through. He gets into some action in the first few scenes, but after that he sort of wanders through the movie being acted upon instead of taking action: he falls into and out of the hands of a crooked lawman, sits stoically when he's about to be hanged, stands stoically when he's about to be shot in the back. Not like the Randolph Scott I know.
I was bemused, myself, at some of the worst plotting I've seen in a western in a long time. I'd expected better from a Scott/Boetticher collaboration. Here's what I mean. Let's say you're Scott and you have the drop on three killers. You and your pards tie them up and leave. Would you have (A) left one of the killers tied separately from the other two so that he could scoot over to them, (B) tied the knots so poorly that the killers could get loose in under 30 seconds, (C) left all their guns in the room with them, (D) left their horses right outside? I know I wouldn't have, but that's exactly what happens.
Aside from that, the movie's supposedly set in California, yet Scott rides past saguaro cactus all the time. Even I know better than that, and I don't know anything.
This was and okay little movie, but that's about it. Maybe it's supposed to be funny. Whatever it is, it's not one of the high points of the Scott/Boetticher canon.