 A fiery horse with a speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a harky hyosilver, the lone ranger. With his faithful Indian companion, Tonto, the daring and resourceful mass griter 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 hoofbeats of the great horse silver. The lone ranger rides again. Jeff Hope, the deadliest man with a six-gun ever known in La Colina, listened tensely as footsteps approached. Roused from a light sleep by their sound, his instinctive reaction had been to strike a gunfighting stance, legs well apart, knees slightly bent, the fingers of his right hand curled and closed, gripping not the comforting butt of his favorite 44, but a cell bar in the county jail. For the first time in his young, stormy life, Jeff was a prisoner. His tension gave way to a surge of bitter anger. Then the friendly, moustached face of Sheriff Shell Harper appeared outside the grating and he managed to grin. Howdy, Sheriff. How's the weather tonight? Collable Jeff, you doing all right? Well, it gets mighty lonesome back here. Well, you'll soon have company. Less than 90 mason closes up his crooked gambling den and leaves town. I'll give him till tonight to pack his grip sack. Oh, I come. I don't calculate let any poor cats like him stay in La Colina. Well, I gotta hold you in jail. You sure head up about me being in charge with murder? Well, I shouldn't have be, son. All you did was plug that no good Bill Hazen, but dirty in the name of a decent girl. I gave him a chance to apologize for insulting Clara Wells. He wouldn't take it. He went for his gun, so I had to... Oh, the town ought to be plumb, proud of you. Seems it used to be when you was my deputy. And had to protect the people from border alhoots. Times have changed, Sheriff. Well, La Colina's ruined. It's full of gunshies, and such like. Don't give a hoot in the hollow what's said about women, folks. They aim to civilize us Texans, they say. Yep. Stop our gunplay. That's why the fellas in the courthouse won't let me drop this key, Sheriff. Me being jail is going to hit my more hard. More's been poorly. I'll come back here to talk about that. You see, Jeff, I... See what? I ran into Old Dark Wells and Miss Clara better go. She's a dead's driver, you know. They'd been on a call to your ranch. A call? Your more's been taken mighty bad. Oh, no. She wants to see you before... Well, before it's too late. Sheriff, I've got to go to her. Can't we fix up a bond or something? You can't get Dale in a murder case. But if you promise... I'll promise. I'll be back in a day or two if you let me go. You know I don't lie or break my word. I know, son. So I'm unlocking your cell. Now go out the back, we can ride in the room there. She's saddled and waiting. Just try not to be seen, because I'm sticking my badge on this play. Here's my hand, Sheriff. Now if I move, it's pronto. How do you want me to go? Sheriff? I want him to... You're covered. Don't move a muscle. You pussy-footin' tinhorn. You snuck up on me. I was coming in to talk peace when you let Jeff go. Now I'm top, ma'am. Maybe you can get me thrown out of office. But before I lose my badge, you'll be out of business. So that's how you want to play it. I'm still the law. And you're too yellow to reshoot me. Not when a set-up's like it is. I can plug you in and let Jeff take the blame. Why you... Several hours later, Jeff Hope was at home with his mother. He knelt at her bedside in a closed room for some time, while Clara waited beyond the door. Presently, the doctor came. Oh, Dad. Yes, Clara? I'm glad you're here. Jeff's in the other room with his mother. Here he comes now. Jeff, I... Oh, Jeff. I... I'm sorry. I guess I needn't tell you, Clara. It's all over. I'm glad you could be here with her, Jeff. The sheriff let me out to come home. I see. Just before she died, Mo asked me to promise I'd never kill anyone. She smiled when I gave her my word. Her face is still smiling. It's good that your mother will never know. Know what? You said the sheriff had let you out. Yeah. The sheriff let me go on the word that I'd come back. Dad, I told you Jeff didn't kill Mr. Harper in Breakdale. Kill Sheriff Harper? You mean he's dead? He was shot to death tonight. Some stray Indian heard the gunfire and gave the alarm. That happened after I left. It had to. Jeff, when I got there, a cigarette was still smoldering in your open cell. That sheriff's horse is outside now. He learned it to me, Doc. He was my best friend. I don't suppose you meant to kill him. You were desperate to see your mother and tussled with him. Maybe the gun went off accidentally. Dad, what are you saying? Jeff isn't armed. He's had plenty of chance to get rid of the gun. So you see? I see plenty, Doc. I see I'm good as hung right now. Under state law, the county coroner becomes acting sheriff when a sheriff dies. I'm coroner, Jeff. I'll have to arrest you. It's all right, Doc. I was going back to jail anyhow. Well, you can't go back to La Colina now. You'd be lynched. Even the native Texans have turned against you. You've got to make a run for it. No, Clara. Boy, I'm just an old sawbones who doesn't carry a gun. If you don't want to stay arrested, I can't do much about it. What chance did I have against the posses that'll be writing? Jeff, if you won't do anything for your own sake or mine, think of your mother. I am thinking. You'll shame the memory of a good woman if you let yourself be mobbed for something you didn't do. Yeah. Yeah, that's so. Doc, I'm going. Yes. Goodbye, Clara. Goodbye, Mark. As Jeff Hope stumbled from the ranch house stunned by his misfortunes, Tonto had been waiting outside the door, emerged from the shadows, stepping behind the fugitive. The Indian thrust a gun against his back. You keep going, huh? Jeff. What is this? Who are you? Me, Tonto. Me here shooting in jail. Trail you here. You must be the Indian doc mentioned. I reckon you've been spying on me, but it don't matter. It mattered plenty. Maybe me saved you. You mean you're not a tracker for a possie? Me alone. Not know if you kill Sheriff, but one thing, plenty sure, you'll not get fair trial if you get caught. Oh, are you taking me? To friend's camp. You get on horse front. All right. Follow me. Posse, come now. Come on, get up, Mark. Go. Favored by the moonless night and the speed of their rested horses, Tonto and Jeff soon shook off pursuit by entering a pear cactus thicket. Deep in the labyrinth of flesh-taring vegetation, they pulled up beside the embers of a campfire. Go, go, go, go. We get on here, Jeff. Stick, Scout. Easy, boy. Kimusabe. Jeff Hope in bad trouble. See, mister, is that just a shadow? Where are you wearing a mask? It's a mask. We needn't go into that now. Tell me, what's happened? Sorry, mister. Of course you don't believe it. Jeff, I have enough faith in your story to help you all I can. It's going to be mighty hard to find the hombre who did the shooting. Yes, that's true. A veteran lawman like Sheriff Harper was bound to have hundreds of enemies. Anyone of whom might have murdered him. Any jail, a lot of crooks in his time. But you were the only prisoner in the jail today. That's right. There weren't even any sleepers in the bum's roost. Sleepers? Yeah. The sheriff was big hurt. He fixed up a room off the cell block where tramps could bed down without being locked in. Oh, that's interesting. Tato, are you sure that no one left for the front door after the shooting? Me sure. Maybe the killer lives right in La Calina. He does? We'll draw him out. What do you mean? This is my plan. We'll cover Tato with a ragged blanket and send him into town tomorrow morning. Tato, you pose as a homeless Indian who needs a place to sleep. Go to the jail and speak to Dr. Wells. He has the authority to let you sleep there. Oh, while you're in the jail, we'll... Later the next day, Arnie Mason and his houseman, Hylo Jack Barnes, put their heads together in a secluded corner of his notorious gambling hall. Hylo had a worried look as he said, Boss, you told me you pulled a perfect job in the jail. Well, wasn't it? No one saw me and the law's barking up their own tree. The commissioners have posted a $5,000 reward for Jeff Hope. It's being talked around as an Indian witness. An Indian? Yeah. A stray who's staying in a bum's roost at the jail. Confunded I never thought of that. I didn't look in there. That's Indian. Don't talk English. Doc Wells is sent for an army scout who knows all the lingos. It'll take a couple of days for him to get here. What are you figuring to do? Hylo, we've got to kill that red skin tonight. The Lone Ranger was ready to spring his trap. He and Jeff crouched in a dark passage behind the jail, while Tuttle waited just inside the unlocked door of the vagrant's room. As hours passed uneventfully, the mask man repeated his instructions to Jeff. Don't hesitate to use that gun I gave you. But shoot only the wound. Hi, Savvy. I'll cover the door. You cut off anyone who breaks away and tries to climb the fence. What is it? Hold it, you two. You're covered. I'll hold them off. Go on inside. Stop, I said. You fellas, drop guns. It's a trap. Shoot your way out. We've got them cornered. After them, Tuttle. Yes, get to the fence. Head them off. Here you are. Let's get back. You may not see them crooks and shadows. Don't shoot. Jeff's ahead of us. Then shoot at us. Open the fence. I'll push you. Now get in the way. 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. All to continue our story. In an effort to learn who killed Sheriff Harper, the Lone Ranger had staked out the La Colina Jail using Tonto as a lure. Caught that night in the trap, Arnie Mason, a crooked gambler and one of his hirelings had fought their way to a fence guarded by Jeff Hope. Running to Jeff's aid, the masked man shot it. Use your guns. Soon he'll be here. See you. I'm staying in Tonto while, Jeff. You go back to the parathing of a Tonto. The first tell me whether you recognize those men. I couldn't see their faces good enough to tell. One fellow's voice sounded familiar, but I can't place it. Why didn't you shoot? You could have stopped them. I had my gun right on them. One had a cripple right on them, and the other was helping them over the fence. A blind man could have hit him, but... Well, what happened? I froze on my trigger, mister. I was afraid I might kill him. You come, Jeff. You may be losing your life now. I know, but I made more a promise. A promise never to kill anybody again. Safe in the gambling den with Hilo Jack, Arnie Mason's first thought was of his wound. As his house man worked on his arm, he groaned. Did you see the armor you plugged me? He had a mask on. A mask? Right. The other fellow was Jeff Hoomey. I can't figure it. It don't make sense. It does to me. They planted that Indian and then laid for us. Well, they didn't get us. They don't know who we are, where we went, or they'd be here now. We'd better let things ride as they are and keep moving. No. I want that mask. I'm right here wherever he is. He's dangerous and he must be hiding, Jeff Hoomey. If we can get him alive and make him talk, we can get Hoomey, too. Then I'll be safe. Yeah, and we can collect the reward. The arm's fixed. I'll get Rusty and the boys. Watch old Doc, his girl, and the jail. That mask man will turn up again. Meanwhile, Doc Wells and Clara, summoned from their home by excited citizens, had reached the jail. As the crowd searched the grounds, they hurried toward the vagrant's room. Hey Indian, where are you? Clara, hold that lantern over here. There's his old blanket. Yes, but he's gone. The door's open. Look, there are bullet holes in it. The killer came back and got him. I'm an old fool. I should have seen to his safety. You boys, I'll call them back. Organize the parcels. Let them go. Donna was all right. A mask man. What are you doing here? Yes, I'm trying to help Jeff hope. How? By silencing the only witness who could clear him? Tunnel wasn't a witness. He was here to draw the murderer into a trap. So that was it. What happened? Two men appeared. Jeff let them get away rather than risk killing them. Well now that they've been frightened off, you'll never get out of his trouble. There's still a way of identifying one man. I wounded him in the right arm. You don't expect him to come to me, do you? No, Doctor. But I know how you can call him in. Here's what we'll do. Riding away from his conference at the jail, the lone ranger turned his great white horse into a dimly lit alley in order to avoid the main street. Several hundred yards down the Doby wall passage, a covered wagon loomed up standing crosswise ahead of him. Instantly on the alert, he loosened his six guns and whirled silver almost in his tracks. Act silver. Mounding silver. Just as the big horse straightened out, the loop of a larry had dropped out of the shadows, pinning the mask man's arms below the elbows and making it impossible for him to raise his guns. Before he could be jerked from his saddle, he brought silver to a skidding stop. Leaping from a wagon and nearby walls, a half dozen men closed in, led by Hylo Jack, who was shouting, What do you men want? Your guns for one thing. All right, you've got them. Like a man's, Hylo. I'll take his mask off. No time for that, Rusty. Keep you lurid on him. Time to his saddle. Right. Here the rest of you. Move that wagon and get your horses. Where are you taking me, Rusty? The boss of Reagan thinks you're hiding Jeff Hope. What of it? Jeff is worth $5,000. Dead or on the hook. You're a fool if you let your boss get the whole reward. I know it, but that don't... Hey, would you tell me where Jeff is? Why not? He's in the big pair of thickets. That jungle? Look, you'll have to guide us. I can do it. I'm going to keep my mask on. All right, at least for the time being. And if we get Jeff Hope, I'll give you a break. I heard that, Rusty. You're fixing to double-cross the boss. He'd double-cross us, and so would you. You side-watched Rusty. You shot him. He pulled first. Now, are you boys backing me? Sure, sure. Hide that carcass and mount your horses. All right, steady, boy. You on rain the mask. Don't try any tricks. I'm keeping a tight rope on you and a gun, too. Yes, I know. Then get going. Come on, boys. Come on. Far from being a solid growth of cactus plants, the big pear-thicket was composed of many small thickets, each inaccessible to man and beast. Separating them were natural passages, some comfortably wide, others too narrow to admit a horse, and all linked together more intricately than a man-made puzzle. Just as Dave wrote, the masked man, still bound and held in leash by Rusty's lariat, let Silver pick his way through an opening in the maze. Behind him is Captor's riding in single file, cursed and grumbled. You can't get away from losing this masked man. I'm lost already, Rusty, because he loses himself. I know what I'm doing. Follow me. As the cavalcade wound deeper into the wilderness of Cacti, the masked man began to make brief hauls whenever a sudden turn put him out of Rusty's sight. Each time he kept the lariat taut by twisting and turning in his saddle and slipping the slack over the horn. By such contortions, he was finally able to put a half-dozen turns of the rope around his pommel, stoutly anchoring it. Behind him, Rusty was growling. Hey, how much farther we going, mister? This is far enough. What do you mean? Now, Silver, come on, big fella, come on! What are you doing, fella? Hold it, hold it! What's the matter, Rusty? He's got my rope fastened. Rusty snatched the second lariat the masked man bent low in his saddle, heaving and straining the mighty Silver through all of his weight and strength into the strange tug of war. Pull, Silver, pull! The great legs of the crook's horse shot out from under it. It split on its haunches, then rolled over squealing and hurling Rusty into the spine-armed wall of Cacti. At the same instant, Rusty's lariat jerked loose from the fallen animal saddle. Silver, plunging forward, stumbled, then gained his feats and catapulted into another break in the thicket. The loose rope whipping around the corner after him. One, two, three! He's getting away! Hear those hoes, tunnel? Can you hear them? Silver's hoes. Our friend's coming. There he is. Hold, Silver, hold. Easy, steady, big fella. Cut me loose and give me a gun. Can you do that, Pronto? What happened? I'll explain as we ride. Where are we going? Back to the jail, Jeff. This time we'll get the killer. After a busy morning during which they had subpoenaed every man in La Colina to appear at an inquest in the death of Sheriff Harper, Dr. Wells and Clara were back in the murdered lawman's office. Puzzled and angry citizens packed the place, wanting to know why they had been called to testify. Others stood outside. While Clara, whom the doctor had deputized, seated a coroner's jury of six. Abel King, the young prosecutor, protested. Dark, you're making a fool of yourself. People don't like to see a girl handling a man's job. Clara's doing all right. Even if she is, this inquest isn't necessary. We know the Sheriff was shot to death. Let Jeff Hope shot him. It looks that way. But that isn't all. Wait, you've summoned the whole town here. You're wasting taxpayers' time and money. We'll be voted out of office. Send my office with force on me. I'll do as it please. Dad, the jury's ready. Then we'll call the first witness. For several hours, the townsman paraded to the witness chair, took the oath, and were dismissed after answering a question or two. The exasperated prosecutor had turned his back on the proceedings when the doctor called. Next witness. Arnie Mason. Is Arnie Mason here? He's outside if it matters. All right. Take the oath, Arnie. Oath. See here, Doc. I don't know anything about the killer. That's what everybody says. Raise your right hand. Solemnly swear, tell the truth, hold truth, not about the truth, so help me God. Sure. I mean, I do. You didn't raise your hand. Have you got a sore arm? I... Well, yeah, I had a fall. You should have come to me. You may have a fracture. That's nothing. I'm looking anyhow. No, you're not. He's got a gun. Stay in front of me, girl. I'm getting out of here. Not that gun, Mason. Hey, look back there. The mask man and Jeff. You! Hey, you'll never get me. Come on, Jeff. I've got him. No, let go of my arm. Who got loose? I'll get back all of you. You two, girl. Look out, he'll shoot. Get out of the way. You bet I'll shoot. I'm going out that window, see? Now, kill the one who tried to stop me. You won't make it, Mason. Oh, yes, I will. Oh, I'm shooting you. If you hadn't drilled me in the arm, I wouldn't have been caught when I was called here to testify. I'm getting you for that. I get out of my way. Give me a clear shot at that mask, man. I allow Jack and my boy should have gotten you, mister, but they didn't. I'll always kill by another gunman. Your gang is lost in the pair of thickets trying to find a way out. Yeah? Well, I'm finishing you. Let's both shoot. Oh! Oh, my leg. You got it. Not enough gunplay, Mason. My leg is busted. Stay right there on the floor, Mason. Patch up before we move. He did shoot. Yes, Mason. When the people got out of the way for your shot, they got out of the way for mine. You're fast shooting. Mason, your actions say that you killed the sheriff. I may as well admit it. I killed him. Oh, my leg. Can you hear that? Yes, Jeff. You're clear to killing Sheriff Harper, but there's still the other case. I know, but I came back as I said I would. That ought to be in my favor. In that other case, he was justified. Any jury would say so. Yes, Clara. I agree that a jury will say he was justified. And I think in view of what's happened, Jeff has nothing to worry about. But you're the prosecutor. Do you mean that? I intend to recommend that the charges be dropped. Clara. Oh, Jeff, you hear that? You're going to be free. There's a matter of a reward for the capture of the sheriff's murder, Jeff. I think you and the mask man might be entitled to it. Well, that mask man. Oh, golly, if it hadn't been for him... Well, where is he? He went out the door, Jeff. Who is he? Oh, Tano told me, Clara. He's the Lone Ranger. Lone Ranger, a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated, originating in Detroit, is created and produced by George W. Trendle and directed by Charles D. Livingston. Edited by Fran Stryker, the part of the Lone Ranger is played by Brace Beamer.