 horse with a speed of light, a clot of dust, and a hearty hyo silver, the Lone Ranger. With his faithful Indian companion, Ponto, the daring and resourceful masked writer of the plains led the fight for law and order in the early western United States. Nowhere in the pages of history can one find a greater champion of justice. Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear. From out of the past come the thundering hoof beats of the great horse, Silver. The Lone Ranger rides again. Come on, Silver, let's go before the Lone Ranger. Cut across the sky, thunder crashed, and a torrential wind-driven rain blotted out the trail. Dirk Winters and his men had taken cover under an overhang, and they were preparing to make a temporary camp. Then suddenly, as lightning turned the night into day for a second, Dirk saw a solitary figure riding along the trail. See him, Al? Sure. A pilgrim. He's no cowhand, he's wearing a broadcloth coat. He must be somebody important. Back in the saddle, boys, pull up your bandanas. Watch out, I thought we were going to make camp. There's easy picking on the trail, follow me. The outlaws raced toward their victim. The man rode with his head bowed against the storm, and he was unaware of the approaching danger until the gang surrounded him. Rain up there! Oh, oh! Now up with your hands. All yours, Lord. Never mind the questions, hand over your money. Are you hungry, man? Hungry. If you're hungry, I'll gladly share with you the money I have. If you're not, I won't part with the penny. Grab him, we'll show him who's... Keep your distance. Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord, but he can arm his servants with the strength of ten. I need the money I carry to build a church in Wildwood. A church? Hey, are you a preacher? I am. A preacher in Wildwood? Ha, ha, ha! Oh, that's good. Maybe you've never heard it, mister, but they say there is no Sunday western junction city. And no, God wash your Selina. You're a long way out of his territory. Come on, how can you blaspheme when God's power and majesty are all about you? What's the matter with you, hombres? I told you to grab him. Hey, Dirk, there's so many coming. Born one horse, too. Let's get out of here. Now, before I get the preacher's money, I'm emptying his saddle bag. No, no! You try to stop him. I got his gold. Come on, Dirk. We got a high chain. Get up! Get up! The outlaws rode off. The preacher lay where he had fallen at the side of the trail, and a moment later, two riders rained up beside him. A masked man and an Indian, the Lone Ranger and Tuttle. Quickly, they dismounted him. Hey, little lady. He's still alive. There's Tuttle. There's some shelter under the overhang of the cliff. We'll make camp there, man. What about Alclaw? Maybe he'll be out there with him. He's in wild wood. We'll get him. This man's life can be saved, and that comes first. All right, let's go. The man was carried to a sheltered spot at the foot of the cliff. Tuttle cared for him as the Lone Ranger made camp. And later, as the sky cleared and the moon came out, the preacher stirred. Why, sir? You don't seem to be happy. Yes, Tuttle. What? Where is... I don't try to get up. You've been wounded. You'll have to take it easy for a while. I remember. Are you the man who shot me? No, I'm not. But you are not Lone. No. That isn't the reason I wear a mask. I believe you. There's the Ring of Truth in your voice. Who are you? My name is Danny McLaren. Where are you going? Do you have any friends around here? No, I'm going to Wildwood. I'm going to build a church there. A church in Wildwood? No, you don't have to tell me. I know the reputation of the place. It's as bad as Dodd City and Abilene. It's worse. There's no real business there. It's only a hangout for outlaws and gunmen. There must be a few decent people. Yes, a few. There's nothing wrong with the ranches and homesteaders in the country around. Oh, but the town itself, I... I take it you've never been there. No. But tomorrow morning we'll take you to Sheriff White's ranch. You? To the sheriffs? It may seem strange to you, but he's an old friend. And Mrs. White will see that you receive the care you need. But it will be a week or two before you'll be able to get around. You can decide better than whether it's wise to stay here. I have found that the course of wisdom is best dictated by the heart. You're a good man, Danny McLaren. A good man and a brave one. I'm afraid you'll need your courage. The following day, the preacher was taken to the White Ranch. And after he had been made comfortable, the lone ranger and tanto said goodbye to the sheriff and his wife. I do wish you could stay for a while. I'm sorry, Mrs. White. Where are you going? We're going to scout the hills to the north. That's a rough country. It's a good place to hide. We're looking for Juan Marroto. El Diablo? Yes. He's wanted for murder in Laredo. He hasn't shown his face around here for nearly a year. That awful man. He's the one who brought all those crooks to Wildwood. And to think of Mr. McLaren wanting to go there and live amongst them. After they shot him and robbed him, too. Why can't you do something about that, Jeff? Because he can't give us any description of the men who did it. And the masked man here didn't see them either. If I had, would you try to make an arrest, Sheriff? Of course. You'd have to do it alone, wouldn't you? Well, you can't blame folks for being scared of those side-winders. No. But I have an idea that Mr. McLaren is going to put some courage into the honest people of Wildwood County. It'll be a great day when I have somebody to back me up. There's something about the men. I understand what you mean. He's made me remember the old days back home, when everything was calm and peaceful. And he's got me hoping, just hoping, mind you, that maybe there can be an end to shooting and killing out here. There will be, Mrs. White. We'll be seeing you before long, Sheriff. You're welcome any time. Let's go, Tullo. Be ready. See you soon, Mr. McLaren. Goodbye. Goodbye. A week later, Daniel McLaren had completely recovered. And although the Sheriff and his wife tried to persuade him to make his home with him, he had only one answer for their argument. You're very kind. But it's time that I began my work. Well, where do you expect to live in Wildwood? You know the woods on the hill above the town. Yes. I'll build my cabin there, and I'll build the church beside it. Who are you going to get to help you? This is roundup time. I can't spare any of my men. Neither can any of the other ranchers. You won't find anybody who anchors to work in here. No, it won't have to be a large meeting house to start with. I can build it myself. Oh, that it never do, Mr. McLaren. Why not? Why, you're a preacher. You've got to think of your dignity. When you do, chopping down trees and sawn logs and things like that, it isn't right for a man of the cloth. It wasn't beneath the dignity of a certain carpenter, I could mention. What? Oh. Well, of course I'm not saying there's anything wrong with work. Of course there isn't. And I'll have the meeting house finished by the time the roundup's over almost anyway. Then all the ranchers can get together and help me raise the roof tree. How's that, Jim? It sounds fine to me. Church in Wildwood. Somehow it just don't seem possible. And so during the spring mornings, when all the cafes in Wildwood were quiet, the sound of the axe could be heard ringing out from the hill above the town. From his cabin window, Dirk Winters could watch the clearing as it grew, and the two rough log buildings that rose out of the green wood. Then one day a rider on a black stallion reigned up at his cabin. Hey, now! Now what's the matter? It's marado. Yes, amigo! Come in one quick. Aren't you taking an awful chance showing yourself in broad daylight? No, it pleases me to take chances. But is this not Wildwood? Has it down changed so much since I left it? It's changed enough. See that log cabin up there on the hill? That's a church. So? A person's called McLaren. He's getting to have a lot of influence. It isn't funny. He showed on between El Diablo and a post. Oh, I think it is very funny. Now, however, we must consider more serious matters first, like a hideout for you. I am not hiding out, not anymore. The law's after you, ain't it? He's over a month since I killed that man in Laredo. Already I forget about it. It's time for us to go to work. We've got something lined up. See, I want 2,000 head of cattle. What? They will be driven from here to the border and sold to my good friend Esteban across the Rio Grande. 2,000 heads? See, the roundup is almost over here, is it not? Yeah, that's right. We will take our 2,000 from the trail herds. There's only going to be one trail herd this year, boss. How is that? More of the parson's work, his suggestion anyway. It is a good idea. Not for us. See, Dirk, for us, it is easier to rustle one herd than many. But all those men, we will wait until they have finished with their work. When they herd us all together, then we will drive it through the pass and onto the border. But they'll have men on guard all the time. We can't get away with it. Leave that to me. Dirk's right. We could handle the night riders, maybe, but there'd be a gunfight. Now to bring all the other cow folks. We couldn't drive a herd and fight our way through the pass at the same time. How many men do we have there? About 50. That is enough. They got a lot more than that. 50 men, waiting in ambush. With more than 200 in the open. In ambush. See, these all work out in my mind. I've been looking at the log cabin you call a church, amigo. Yeah, but what's that got to do with cattle? It is true that the people of Wildwood County are very proud to have a church, you know? I told you that. They are proud. Now these high on the hill where it can be seen for a long way. Yeah, but, boss... Let them talk, Dirk. Gracias. All right, even at night it could be seen for a long way. At night? Even where I'm fired, amigo. Think. Think how the ranchers would feel if their church would have catch fire. Think how they would act. From all over they would ride here as fast as they could. They would forget their homes, their cattle, everything. Or perhaps you have exaggerated how they feel about the person, his influence. No, no, I haven't exaggerated. And you agree? They burning church on the hill would draw them like moors to the flames. Sure would. A few torches can light the fire. Most of us will be waiting near the trail, sir. There will be no difficulty. What about afterwards? After they put the fire out, they'll come after us. See, they will pick up the trail and follow us straight into the pass. Oh, he's perfect. You mean that's where we'll ambush? They will not follow us for long. What is a funny thing? Is it not a muse? The person will be helping El Diablo. Oh, no, no, no. I tell you, not a man who enters that pass will leave it alive. The curtain falls on the first act of our Lone Ranger story. Before the next exciting scenes, please permit us to pause for just a few moments. To continue our story, a full moon shone down on the range country outside of Wildwood on the night that the Lone Ranger and Tonto rode through the pass. They circled the basin where the trail herd was bedded down and finally rained up in front of the sheriff's ranch house. Oh, sir, hold on a minute, big fella. Easy, sir, easy. We'll only stop here for a minute, Kimosabi. Do you think maybe Sheriff C. Murato? No, we'll find out. And he's late. There's still a light in the living room. What the? Don't you recognize me, Sheriff? Oh, it's you. Did you find him? Did you pick up El Diablo's trail? We're still following it. He was seen in Clarksville two days ago and he was heading in this direction. Oh, that's bad. You haven't seen him. No. He's got a lot of friends in town, though. Yes, I know that. Do you want me to round up a posse and go after him? Would you be able to round up a posse? I sure would. The preacher's put some gumption into us just like you said. I'm glad to hear it. He's got his church almost built up on the hill above the town. And with a church in Wildwood, we're going to have some law and order to go along with it. The first step in that direction is to capture Murato. Tuttle, now I'll try to find him before morning. We'll see you later, Sheriff. I'll start getting my men together right now. Good enough. Easy, big fella. Easy, Scotty. Easy. A lone ranger and Tuttle raced across the moonlit prairie. But as they near the town, the masked man raised his arm in a signal to halt. Hold it! Hold it! Hold it! Hold it! Hold it! Hold it! Just listen. Tuttle, not hear anything? It's plenty quiet. Yes. That's just it. When Wildwood's quiet, at midnight, something's wrong. Not right. You can see the main street from here. It's almost deserted. I can't understand it unless there's... Kimusavi. What? Up on hill beyond town. Not fire. More than a campfire. Not signal fire. Tuttle, that's where McLaren is building his church. It's the church that's on fire. Until they must count. We're running straight through the town. Busters will lift. Oh, my God! As the lone ranger and Tuttle rode into the town, a great bank of clouds covered the moon and the burning church shone like a beacon through the sudden darkness. At the top of the hill, Juan Morado satisfied his black stallion and laughed down at Daniel McLaren. How do you like it, Parson, huh? It is better than a bell to bring you a congregation, huh? They will all be here soon. Then you can pull down on your knees and pray. Pray for rain to put out the fire. Perhaps your prayers will be answered. I ought to shoot you, Parson. You have a gun. But I will not. You know why? There's some good in all of us. Oh, there's nothing but bad in me. Oh, no, preacher. Do not shoot because you cannot laugh at a dead man. That is true. That's why your words mean nothing. Nothing? You are dead already. It's in your eyes. You will see who is dead when the night is over. Over the hill, madam. A blow from the blood of Morado's six gun knocked the preacher to the ground and it was there that the lone ranger and tanto found him when they rained up in front of the burning church. Put him away, you son of a gun. And it was at that moment that the sudden summer storm broke in all its fury. Is an ugly cut on his head, huh? I've got stuff in saddlebag. Do you carry him into his cabin? Mask, men. Yes, what happened to you? That were six men. They had torches. They set the church on fire and their leader hit me. Did you recognize any of them? Bendanus over their faces. They called the leader Juan. Morado. Yes, sir. Close the door, Kimisabi. You know the leader. We've been trailing him for a long time. There were only six men. Yes. But the others aren't in town. Where could they be? The last thing I heard Juan said, you'll see who's dead when the night is over. Men come now, Kimisabi. I'll take a look. Now, like the sheriff. Maybe he'd bring Posse. Juan said the men would come. What's that you said? I think he wanted them to come here. Better than a bell he said to call your congregation. Naturally they'd come when they saw the fire. The rains didn't care of it. But why should Morado want all the ranchers here? Where are the other members of his gang? Kimisabi. Of course, Tutto. The trail herd. A few night riders watching it. That's all. How do you feel now, Parson? Much better, thank you. We're going to leave you then. We're going to the basin to check up on the herd. They're short cut. Down on the side of the hill. We'd miss the sheriff. But it's all right. Ask him to follow us as soon as he can, Parson. I will. Let's go, Tutto. The lone ranger and Tutto race down the thinly-witted slope on the far side of the hill. Once level ground was reached, the masked man called on Silver for his greatest speed. Scout fought valiantly to keep up with him. Three, four, five miles. Easy, Silver, easy. They splashed through a ford. Then on again. One, two, three, four, five, six, count. The rain stopped as they thundered down the gentle slope of the basin, where the herd had been bedded down. But now not a single steer could be seen. Hold, hold, Silver, hold. We were right. For all those men who wrestled the herd. Make right a scope or help, maybe. Probably. Out close, drive herd toward pass. We can see the pass at the top of the next rise. One, two, three, four, five, six, count. At that moment, the last of the cattle was disappearing into the pass. And Murato was arranging his ambush. All of you take cover behind the rocks on both sides of the pass. Hold your fire until you get the word from me. Now, why are you still here? I told you to go with the herd. Can I have a few more men? You'll be enough. The steers will quiet down once they are through the pass. Keep driving them on to the south. Well, the rest of you catch up with us. You're not worried about that. The ranchers will soon be coming after us. We'll let them get well inside the pass before we start shooting. Not one will escape. They'll be moving plenty fast. Our bullets will move faster. On your way. Get him! As the lone ranger and tonto waited at the top of the rise, Silver could sense there was danger ahead and whinnyed his defiance. Murato's black horse hurt him and answered his challenge. Murato's left some men in the pass. Waiting for the ranchers to come through. At what tonto think? Is there any way of getting over the ridge? On their old trail? But it plenty dangerous. It can't be as dangerous as a man bush. They'll wait here for the sheriff. It was nearly half an hour later when the sheriff and his posse arrived. I can see the way they went. Let's get after them. Sheriff, I want you to split your posse into two parties. I'll now lead one of them over the ridge. What's the idea there? Murato's wedding force in the pass. You stay here with half your men. Now listen. The lone ranger explained his plan of attack and the sheriff agreed to it. The trail across the ridge was narrow and treacherous and it took the party that the masked man led nearly an hour to reach the other side. But then they cut back to the trail and in 15 minutes of heart-riding It doesn't mess up ahead as a tonto. That's not to talk with them. Ready with your guns, men. But there was no gunplay. Murato had only sent half a dozen men along with the herd and when they saw the odds against them they surrendered at once. Bring them up. Round them up, boys. Now what do we do, mister? Get the herd, turn around and head it back to the pass. Thanks. Jake left his sundown up in front. Turn the point. Let's go. The point was turned and the herd was started back toward the pass. Get the moving pass. As the cowboys yelled and shot their guns in the air the half-wild longhorns broke into a run faster and faster like a red flood sweeping over the plain and upon they thundered toward the pass. The herd was stampeding. In the pass the outlaws were still waiting. Getting a light one. And the more light the better we shoot. What's that behind us? Which cattle? Yeah, it's the herd. They're stampeding. How could I have let this happen? Hey, we gotta get out of here. Do your saddles, man. Back to the valley. But as the outlaws burst from the pass they found the sheriff and a hundred men waiting for them. There was no escape. The herd behind them. The guns of the posse ahead. Only Murato tried to get away. Murato brought his horse to the right and raked him with his furs. Yeah, man! El Diablo would escape the trap but the leader of the herd seeing the crowd of men ahead also swung to the right. Murato realized his danger. Realized that the herd was nearly on top of him. He tried to swerve aside. The leader angry now followed him. Practically the outlaw urged his spot on and then a small stone is like breaking the ground. The black horse went down. The guns had raced on past the spot. The man lays still on the ground. El Diablo had reached the end of the trail. A month later Daniel McLaren stood in front of the church on Sunday morning. The damage from the fire had been repaired. The building had been completed and painted white. Everyone in Wildwood County had helped with the work. And now they were arriving for the parson's first service. Oh, hello there. Good morning, Sheriff. Good morning, Mrs. Wright. Good morning, Reverend McLaren. Howdy. Let me help you down, Martha. The church is mighty pretty standing up here among the trees. You know you should be proud. Not I, Mrs. Wright. The church belongs to everyone and if pieces come to Wildwood and the credit goes to any man then surely it isn't to be. I know who you mean. The mass man. Yes. That night when they set fire to the church I prayed for help. Could there have been any better answer to my prayer than the Lone Ranger? It was a feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated created and produced by George W. Trendle directed by Charles D. Livingston and edited by Fran Stryker. The part of the Lone Ranger is played by Brace Beemer.