 the speed of light, the cloud of dust, and a hearty high old silver, the Lone Ranger. With his faithful Indian companion, Tonto, the masked rider of the planes led the fight for law and order in the early western United States. The stories of his strength and courage, his daring and resourcefulness have come down to us through the generations, and 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. Come on, Silver! Let's bubble on the trail ahead! A town called Carson, a man walked with long-determined strides. His eyes were hard, his lips pressed, and a six-gun swung with an easy reach of his hand at every step. Struggling vainly to match the man's strides was a twelve-year-old boy. Store loungers and town folk guide them curiously as they passed. Then as they sensed what it was about to occur, they slowly followed the man and the boy up the street. Bob! Bob, is it true? What, Tim? Are you really gunning for Vince McNary? Go home, son. Bob, I gotta know. Bob! I said go home. Vince McNary's a dead shot. He'll get you for sure. You don't understand. Sure I do. Wendy Peters was your best friend. And Vince McNary shot him. Oh, I like Wendy just as much as you. But, Bob, I don't want you killed, too. Here's the cafe. You stay outside, son. Bob! I'm looking for Vince McNary. I'm looking for Vince McNary. I'm inviting you to draw, Vince. You might overheat it. Have a drink and cool off. I'm waiting. So am I, for an explanation. Wendy Peters went out to trailer Maverick last night. This morning I found him near the waterhole, shot in the back. What's that to do with me? I found a lot of fresh hoof prints near the water. And a break in the fence where you brought your longhorns of my land for a drink. You ought to make sure your facts... I'd know your gun play anywhere, Vince. I couldn't be more certain you killed Wendy than if you'd branded him with your double-D iron. All of your dogs, Grant, they're barking up the wrong tree. You need the water, my ranch band. So bad you thought murder would scare me into selling out. It was a mistake you were putting them fences between our two properties. It's a bigger mistake to shoot a man in the back. I'm inviting you to brush leather, Vince. Your hands hanging kind of close to that sex gun, ain't it, Grant? Figuring to jump the draw? I'm figuring to draw with you on equal terms. That's more than you deserve. Sure you won't swallow this drink first? I'm on to your stalling. Now on we'll talk with shooting irons. You won't swallow this drink, Grant. Take it in the face! That was as low down as tenders I've ever seen, Vince. Yeah, I'll throw a lick on a man's face so I can't see. Then shooting him... He was aiming to jump the draw. Grant says he wasn't, and I'm for taking his word. That was pretty close to murder, if you ask me. Pop, say something. Pop! I'll make it up to you, Pop. I'll avenge it. At a lonely spot in an arroyo some miles from town, two horsemen met. One was Vince McNary. The other was a hard-faced man with small, beady eyes. His name was Hawk. You got here prom talk? Yeah, I came as soon as I got your message, Vince. I didn't arrange for us to meet in town instead of this forsaken hoe. I didn't want you seen. You never been in Carson. Nobody there knows you. Whatever. You'll serve you in a minute. I got a job for you. Any connection with the Grant shooting? How'd you know about that? Well, I hear things. Matter of fact, there is. Grant left a will bequeathing his ranch to his motherless kid. You think you don't let ranch yourself, Vince? Yeah, but Grant refused to sell. He didn't scare easy, either. What do you mean? Even murdering old Wendy Peters didn't frighten him off. I ain't said that. You don't have to. Don't look so worried, Vince. Your secret's safe with me. It better be. Reckon you want Grant's ranch bad. One ain't the word, Hawk. I got to have it. The kid owns the only waterhole for miles. It's fenced in, so my stairs can't drink. I heard about that. If I don't control that pond, might as soon. My stock will sicken and die. If you hadn't swindled them stairs from Grant's neighbors, they could drink when they please. That's enough, Hawk! Can't touchy the night, ain't you? You keep on rubbing me the wrong way, and I'll touch your leather. Easy, Vince. What's on your mind? I want that ranch. Getting it from the kids should be like taking candy from a baby. You don't say. Legal. Legal. People in these parts already riled at me for that liquor shooting at Grant in the cafe. If I tried to take the ranch by force, they'd hang me from the nearest tree. Yeah, but you ain't figuring on the kid selling it to you. No. I'm figuring on you selling it to me. Me? In his will, Grant gave his brother, Paul, the attorney. That means he'll be the kid's guardian and handled his affairs. Well, what's it to do with me? The brother lives in Denver. Nobody in Carson's ever seen him, not even the kid. Well, he's coming on the next stage to supervise a ranch. But I have a feeling he won't arrive. That's savvy. I thought you would. I can see where it's up to me to make this brother disappear so as I can come in and take his place with his credentials. That's a dog on nice ranch. Yeah. And when I sell it to you, you'll be about the richest man in these parts. I should get a nice cut out of the deal. You'll be taken care of. If you follow orders. All right, Vince. Let's have them orders. The afternoon stage for Carson reeks one of the small way stations. A short stop for watering the horses gave the lone passenger a chance to step out and stretch his legs. I'm going to get out for a spell. Pardon me, mister. Is your name Grant? Jed Grant? Yes, why? Brother is a man that died recent. Yes, I'm on my way to take charge of his ranch. Got a message for you. A message? I can't tell you now. Somebody might over here. There's a patch of trees behind the station where we can talk. You want to know about the kid's danger, don't you? Danger? Well, yes. Then come on. If anything happened to that boy, what kind of danger is he in? You heard of Vince McNary? Vince McNary. He killed Tim's father. That's right. He don't mean he plans to harm Tim, too. Not personally. I don't understand. Vince seems to take you over the kid's ranch. He does, huh? Well, I'll put a stop to that. Yeah, Vince figured you'd be ornery. You'd be in charge of the kid's affair. So he's arranged for you to meet with, uh, sudden death. Murder? Yeah. Then it'd be easy for the killer to pretend he's the kid's uncle and sell Vince the ranch dirt cheap. So that's his scheme. Here's the trees. Well, who's the man he hired to kill me? Me. What? You? He'll make a sound or a brilliant. You trick me. I had to get you off here so them ombris at the station won't see what'll happen. I thought you were a friend. That was the idea. You smooth tongue. Easy. Hand over your credentials. Your stage ticket. You can't get away with this. The stage driver and the guard know me. They'll recognize you as an imposter. The stage changes hands at the station for the Runde Carson. A new driver and guard won't know the difference. Well, they'll hear your shot. You'll be caught in hang. I don't aim to shoot you here. What do you mean? Vince's boys are behind them trees. Waiting to take you to the hideout while I occupy your seat on the stage. And later? We'll see. Late the next day, an Indian dressed in buckskin made camp in a ravine a few miles from the Grant Ranch. Suddenly you heard hoofbeats and saw a boy, his small waist, weighted with a gun belt and two heavy sick shooters riding toward town. Fast overtaking him was a man and a black horse. The boy was Tim. The man was Hawk. Come on, Prince. Don't let him catch us. Enough. Faster, Prince, faster. Pull up that horse. Camera on show. We're heading for town and you can't stop us. I'm your uncle. You take orders from me. I don't like you. You leave me alone. Come on, Prince. Stop her in Maverick. Let's go on that bridal. Let's go, I told you. Oh, horse, pull up there. Let me go. Get off that horse. I won't. Prince is my pops horse. He's mine now. I reckon them six guns were your paws, too. I reckon they were. And I'm gunning for Vince McNary. I tell you, there's no use having trouble between us. It's young to be grease and leather. I'll show you. Say, that's a pretty fast draw you got there. You bet it is. I've been practicing. And I can shoot as fast as I can draw. Yeah. I reckon Vince McNary hears about that. He'll plum scare green. Better. I'm aiming to drill in between the eyes for double-crossing my dad in a gun duel. Yeah. I'll take your word for it. Give me them guns. Stop it. Let's go. Those are my shooting range. I'll take them. I'll put up arms. Let me carry them. You ain't got no right to take them. Now, you young whipper snapper. You give gun back. What? A ninja. Where'd you come from? Get out of here. I want to have a red skin telling me what to do. You give gun back. Oh, shoot. Oh, dog gone. Madeline Inchon. Well, you get up. Here. Here, your gun, Tim. Gee. Thanks. Now, you go. Yeah. Come on, run along. I'm going. And it's for you, uncle. You keep your distance and keep your hands off me. You won't get another chance to take these guns away from me. Get up. Get up there, boy. And you go now. I'll meet you again, Red Skin. And when I do, you won't get me off guard. Remember that. Get up. Oh, who's over who? You come in nick of time. Said it big fella. Thought I saw you fighting. Who was the boy? Him called Tim. Tim, huh? He's the son of the rancher, Vince McNary, shot in a cafe. Ah. Him want to fight Vince in Gondol. Why, it'd be suicide. Vince McNary is a crack shot. Well, Tim, plenty good, too. Him shoot crow from tree. That was a shot I heard. Ah. That boy's in danger. Vince McNary wants his ranch. Oh. Vince, plenty bad. The man you saw with Tim was Hawk, a notorious gunman. Boy, call him uncle. Are you sure? Ah. I heard Tim's uncle arrived on the stage yesterday to act as a boy's guardian. Oh, Hawk, not guardian. No. Something's happened to the real one. Something planned by Hawk and Vince McNary. Hawk, make believe him, guardian. It's easy for him to pretend. Neither he nor Tim's uncle are known around here. Ah. We've got to find the real uncle. It's our only chance to expose a masquerade. Me, hunt for him? Ask him, Osabe. I'll keep an eye on Tim. Come scout. Steady, big fella. Ah. I'll meet at the camp. Come on, Silver. Get him up, scout. Get him up! Little boy! 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. The back room of a cafe, Vince McNary and Hawk completed their plans for swindling Tim of his ranch. I'm unaware that a masked man who wore silver-mounted six guns listened carefully to every word. It's a Lone Ranger, huh? Yeah. I'm sure he's a masked armory I saw riding up. If you should learn you're fake as a kid, something... Yeah, he won't. You might find the real Jed Grant. I've got him hid. Why don't you drill him and be done with it? I'll handle that, Vince, when I've got my cash. Don't aim to be double-crossed by you. You just pay me, then I'll see there's no witnesses against you or me. Yeah, he'll get your pay. When? As soon as we can get to the sheriff and close our deal. I'll pay 2,000 cash for the ranch and you'll use that power of attorney and sell it to me. 2,000? Well, it's worth ten times that. I'll pay two. When I know Jed is dead, I'll give you 2,000 more. I want to be sure he won't talk. He won't talk. And after I'm paid, he won't be able to talk. What if he escapes? He won't. You're as nervous as a woman, Vince. I've got a lot at stake. Just shoot square with me and you'll be all right. But remember that no man ever crossed me and lived to brag about it. In a small shack located in an arroyo not far from town, Jed Grant, whom Hawke had kidnapped, sat tied to a chair. Nearby, two hard-faced guards passed the time amiably. Your deal, I see. One, two, three, four, five. There's a bit of cash in after this handrope. Open. Yeah. Give me two cards. One, two. I'll take three. You looked at the prisoner lately? Yeah, he's safe. Wish Hawke would high-tail it up here and finish him. This place is getting on my nerves. Well, I haven't got much, but I'll call you. Two pair. Three little ones. They win. That's enough for me. Put away the cards. You know, I don't see why Vince wouldn't let us drill a grant in the first place. He'd have stopped it long before this. Hawke is being paid for the job. Guard! See what he wants, Rube. Common. These ropes are cutting my wrists. Ain't that too bad? How much longer might it be kept tied like this? Quit beefing. We'll cut you loose from the time coming. Yeah, we won't have any of them ropes then. You'll be dead. You murderers! Button your lip. Open your mouth on a wrong word again. I'll let you have it for keeps. Hey, Rube. What is it? I smell smoke. Smoke? Yeah, it seems to be coming from the front. We better have a look. If this shack catches fire, it'll burn like paper. You're not mixed on... What? Who are you? Me, Tonto. Me help you escape. I don't understand. You not talk now. Me cut rope. And come back pretty soon. There's a player, Rube. It's playing under that window. I'll get him water. One of the guards is coming. You're almost free now. Lefty, come here quick. Look, the red skin. There. You're free now. You come quick. No, you don't. Stop us. I'll fix you. You miss. We'll miss again. He saw you. Take that too. Are you fine? I'll ride with you, Tonto. We may get away fast. Rube, they're getting away. They won't get far. Racing toward the Lone Rangers camp, the sturdy paint, despite his double burden, soon out distant, then he fought a pursuit. Then with a masked man and his powerful white stallion in the lead, Scout resumed his stride toward the sheriff's office. Conferring with the sheriff, were Vince McNary and Hawk, posing as Tim's uncle and guardian. So you're Tim's uncle, huh? Yeah. That's right, sheriff. And legal appointed guardian, too. With authority to handle the kids' affairs. We wanted you to witness the sale, sheriff, so there wouldn't be doubt about it being lawful. Yeah, yeah. I reckon you're right at that. Folks around here have been plenty riled at your shooting Tim's father and the cafe Vince. If they thought there was anything underhanded about your buying the boys' ranch, they'd skin you alive. Now, this sales on the label, few. Well, you see, sheriff, Tim's father left a lot unpaid bills. And selling the ranch is the only way we can settle the accounts. Well, ain't nothing to stop you, as long as you got papers to prove who you are. Uh, here's my credentials. Hmm. Seems to be in order. Sure, sure, do you, sheriff. Just, uh, sign here as a witness to the sale. Right. I suppose my suspicions can't stop me from signing. Sheriff. Well, as I live and breathe. My name is Jett Grant. I'm Tim's uncle. He lies. He's an impostor. Sheriff, this here's Jett Grant. Hold on. McNary, either you're a fool or you think I am. That man's a spittin' image of the man who was killed. You're right, sheriff. Tim's father and I were twins. That man held me prisoner. He stole my credentials. Now, it's clear as crystal. McNary, this is more of your work. You framed it so as you could buy the ranch for a song. Those papers prove... They prove you stole them. You're under arrest. Now, how about it, McNary? You going to squeal? Oh, I didn't have any part in this. I didn't know this man was an impostor. I didn't, and you can't prove what he did. Not unless that cook talks. Not unless he talks. Several hours after Hawk had been thrown in jail for impersonating Tim's uncle Jed, Vince McNary returned to the jailhouse. Under cover of darkness, he made his way quietly to the rear of the Dobie building and picking up a small stone he wrapped in the bars of Hawk's cell window. Keep your mouth shut. I'll bust you out of jail if you're convicted. I ought to tell the whole thing you've got me into this. And I'll get you out. But not if I'm in jail with you. Keep your mouth shut. Three days later, at their camp a few miles from the Grant Ranch, Tonto reported the newest developments to the Lone Ranger. Hold, Scott. Hold, Scott. Hold. You're early, Tonto. Judge sent him to jail. At least Vince McNary is still free. Why him not jailed, too? I persuaded the sheriff to release him. Me not savvy. Vince is guilty of a bigger crime than swindling. He killed Wendy Peters. We can't prove it unless Vince is free. Oh, Kimosabi, me bring note. Oh, it's from Tim. Ah. And it's addressed to Vince McNary. Ah, you read it. The challenge to Vince to meet Tim and a gun doer in the cafe tomorrow at noon. That's right. Why, Vince McNary is a killer. The boy won't have a chance. Ah, Tim, plenty good shot. Why did you bring me the note, Kimosabi? Well, Tim wants you to deliver note to Vince. It would be murder, I...wait. We may be able to use this note after all and without risk to Tim. What you mean? It's a chance to expose a murderer, Tonto. Listen. Following the Lone Ranger's instructions, Tonto took Tim's noted challenge to Vince McNary. Then he saw that word of the duel spread through the town. In no time, the gunfight became the primary subject of discussion. Kim will be on hand tomorrow at the cafe and shooting it out with McNary. Gunfight? Gunfight, my eye. It's murder. Kid won't have a chance. Oh, oh, boy. Tim dismounted in front of the cafe. He tossed the reins over the hitch-rack and tugged at the heavy gun belt on his lean hips. His face looked old, far beyond his years as he mounted the cafe steps and crossed the porch. He pushed through the swinging doors. He noticed the sudden hush of the voices. I'm looking for Vince McNary. Well, McNary? I...heaven finished my drink. Remember what I told you, Vince. Give me a chance here if the kid will drill me. Well, the gun on the kid and I'll drill you. I'm gunning for you, Vince. Take it easy, Tim. Looks like he's turned yellow, boys. I'm inviting you to a draw, Vince. Maybe I'll throw a nigger in the kid's face like it in his paw. Yeah, then you could shoot him while he couldn't see. I'll show you. Oh, bless you, sir, if you got me over a saddle. If I shoot the kid, you'll shoot me. If I don't shoot the kid, he'll shoot me. This is your last chance. Brush leather or I'll shoot you down like it did pop. That's telling him, Tim. Let me out of here. Let me through. I'll make a break with this six-gun. You'll not go. Take your hands off me right now. You stay here. You asked for an engine. Ow! Jump into the arse of that. That masked man shot Vince's gun right out of his hand. Let's give that murderin' polecat Vince McNary a taste of his own medicine, eh, boy? No, no. No, no, sir. They'll kill me. Help me, sir. Help me. Hold it a second, boys. No, no, don't let it get near you. McNary, take your choice. I'll walk out of here and let the crowd have you, or I'll take you with me to jail. Oh, no, no. Don't let him lynch me. How about jail? The mob will get you there. I ain't done nothin'. You can confess to murder. Wendy Grant was murdered. Self-defense. He was murdered. You know it was. I'll take a chance on a jury, givin' ya life in jail, or I'm walkin' out of here and leavin' ya. Go ahead, Sheriff. Leave us alone. Let us have the bombings. Leave in here without him. No, no, sir. Don't leave me here. I did it. I did it. I'll tell you. That's enough, boys. He's confessed. My dad's revenged. That mess man's responsible for this. He framed me. The Lone Ranger. Gentlemen, count. I have just heard it's a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated.