 A fiery horse with a speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty hyosilver, the Lone Ranger. With his faithful Indian companion, Toto, the daring and resourceful mask rider of the planes 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. Coming with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear. From out of the past come the thundering hookbeats of the great horse, Silver. The Lone Ranger rides again. Come on, Silver. Let's go, big fellow. Are you still there? Matt Madrigo and his band of hide hunters were skirting the boundary of the hunting ground set aside for chief lame bear and his tribe in their treaty with the United States government. Suspecting that the hunters might try to stir up trouble between the Indians and the settlers, the Lone Ranger and Toto were following the trail of Madrigo's horses and wagons. There's something mighty strange about this expedition, Toto. They're certainly not hunting buffalo. In fact, they've deliberately avoided the main herd and they keep getting closer to lame bear's territory. They meet a hunting party of Indians, they'll be troubled. Ah, plenty bad trouble. Colonel Graves promised lame bear no white men kill buffalo in Indian country. Lame bear promised Colonel Graves to leave settlers lone. If lame bear's warriors see white men break promise, then stop buffalo hunt and hunt white men, burn houses, kill everybody. Oh, Silver, over there. Can that be over there? That huge pure white animal. There's an Indian on a pony. Him sacred buffalo, a pagan tribe. Young Graves, chief's son, ride with buffalo three days, three nights, this time every year. No white men come near white buffalo. The Indian sees us, Toto. I'll wait here. You ride over and give him a sign of friendship. Niko, get him up scout. As Toto approached the guardian of the white buffalo, he heard the hunting chant of the pagans. Toto stopped, dismounted and stood with his right hand uplifted until the young Indian on a paint pony rode up. Greeting, brother. Good hunting. Good hunting. What brings you into the country of my father's tribe? I am black eagle, son of lame bear. Me, Tonto, in my heart is friendship for your people. We watch trail of men whose hearts are black to carry word to white warriors at fort if promise given to your father's people is broken. Good. Return in peace. I ride beside my brother, the white buffalo. He will show me where my people will find good hunting. I ride with no gun, no bow, no lance, no knife, no food. I ride for three sons and two sleeps. Then return with my brother, the white bull, to the lodge of my father. Good. Me go now. Good hunting. Good hunting. Get him up scout. As the lone ranger and Toto back on the trail kept a wary look out for signs of trouble, Matt Rodrigo had halted his party in a creek bottom while scouts were sent out. Hey, Matt, that's shorty coming. Now, Betty's got news the way he's pounding the trail. I hope you're right. It's up to us to grab the white buffalo and get clean out of this country as fast as we can before word gets back to the fort. The old colonel hasn't got much love for me. Well, shorty, you seem all heated up about something. Come on, what is it? The white buffalo, man. You never saw the life of it in all your life. An enormous old bull is white as snow, except for a few red feathers. The Indians braided into his mane. They $20,000 a small enough price for a critter like that. Folks will travel miles and pay good money for a look at him. Anybody riding herd on this animal, shorty? One lone Indian, boss. I put your spyglass on him from a half a mile away. And as far as I could tell, he's got no weapon of any kind. He never spotted me at all. He was too busy riding around the buffalo. It's a cinch, man. All we gotta do is shoot the Indian, rope the buffalo and load him into a wagon. Nothing to it. That's so fast, shorty. You've got to think ahead a little. Can't leave a dead Indian lying around. We've got to catch the buffalo and the Indian. Dispose of the Indian a good many miles from here. But else we'll have the whole tribe down on us. Like is not the colonel and his boys in blue. Do we aim to haul a critter, clean out of the country by wagon? We sure can't drive them like a steward. Well, that's all fixed. The cattle car waiting at Buckthorn. Once we get them loaded and headed west, our job is finished. We ought to be gone from here before sundown. Should we tangle with troopers or the marshal before we get the white bull off our hands? Don't you worry about that. Here's a bill of sale all drawn up legal. Lame bear sign on it. The signature of Archie Lazat, the Indian agent. The job I'm proud of, I do say. But the agent's going to deny you ever put his name in that paper, isn't he? Shorty, how long do you think the Indian agent is going to live after the Indians find their white buffalo has been made off with? All right, now listen carefully, you fellas. What I got to say. This has got to be a clean job. I had to promise old Pete Barlow that no matter what, we wouldn't rile the Indians. I'm supposed to buy the white buffalo off them. He gave me $10,000 in gold. The old coot actually thought I'd hand it over to Lame Bear. Not knowing, of course, that the tribe wouldn't sell their sacred buffalo for a million. Pete Barlow will pay another $10,000 when the buffalo reaches Chicago. We'd skin buffalo the rest of our lives without making that kind of money. I've got orders in mind, you fellas. Do all the shooting you want to rattle the Indian and head off the white bull. But there mustn't be a scratch on the height of the buffalo, the Indian or his pony. Understand? All right, let's go. Get in there, boy. Hit the bear. Hit the bear. As black eagle, son of chief Lame Bear, followed the white buffalo feeding peacefully on new grass, Matt Madrigo's men cut off escape in any direction. Come on, boy. Right up there. Hit him off. Careful there with that bull. Don't bust that Indian's neck. Grab him and lift him off the pony. Sam's got the bull down. Pop time, boys. He didn't even bust my neck in a minute. Give me a hand here. Say, that's sure a handsome animal. Maybe we can figure some way to get an extra $5,000 out of Pete Barlow. See, those ropes aren't too tight, Sam. We don't want them marked up, any. How's the Indian? They're still full of fight. To beat a half so much as a knife on them, we couldn't have taken them alive. Don't be afford to rope him good and tight. I remind the marks on him. As we get to the salt river gorge, we'll put him away for good. Sam, you hustle up, bring over a wagon with a double hitch. You'll take four horses to pull this critter. I bet he weighs more than a ton. Then what, boss? And we gotta burn the trail. Get to the railroad at Buckthorn and load this critter. Lame Bear's Indians find out what's happened to their white buffalo. This country will be too hot for any white men. I'll be glad to see those homesteaders clean now. Yeah, they got no business out here in the buffalo range, anyhow. Darkness was settling over the plains when the lone ranger and tonto following the trail of Matt Madrigo's gang came to the scene of the capture of the white buffalo and young black eagle his guardian. To the experienced eyes of the lone ranger and tonto, the sign was easy to read. But Madrigo, him steal white buffalo, take them in wagons and take boys. Son, Lame Bear. Evidently, they've taken Lame Bear's son alive. No sign of blood. Then kill him sometime. Yes, I'm afraid so, tonto. Madrigo knows that until the Indians are sure that the chief son has been killed, they'll keep on hunting for him. When them know him dead and white buffalo gone, then try to kill every white man around. Every woman and child too, tonto. It'll be insane with anger. All right, come on, son. Get him up scout. Cautiously following Madrigo's trail, the lone ranger and tonto came to the camping place of the gang about midnight, dismounting they crept forward until they could hear the horses in Madrigo's camp. Now, tonto, give the signal that the black eagle no horns in me. Yes, tonto. Amen, son. You see, he gives more coyote talk. Him tied beside him. Can you tell him we're going to try to rescue him? You bring the horses. Creeping inch by inch through the prairie grass, the lone ranger moved toward the faint embers of Madrigo's campfire. He saw the shadowy figure of the man on guard against a wagon wheel, rifle in hand. Underneath the wagon, within a few feet of the man on guard, the lone ranger crept to the side of black eagle, lying on the ground near his tethered pony, his hands and feet bound to stakes. Four strokes of a sharp bowy knife, and the Indian was free. Another knife stroke, and the lone ranger had cut the paint pony's lead rope. Then, with a great spring, he seized the sentry while black eagle raced into the darkness. This will stop you. Keep the army. Let's go, Tutto. Black eagle has escaped right after him. Get him up! You all right? He's here shot. The sentry's rifle went off when I grabbed it. Black eagle may need a gun. Give the pig a war cry, Tutto. There come Madrigo's men. We must get together with Black Eagle. Then, Tutto, you ride to the fort and tell Colonel Gray what's happened. Get him up! Madrigo quickly called off the pursuit Fine sentry, you are, Sam Mitchell. You must have been sound asleep. Oh, I was as wide awake as you were. Too bad they didn't get your scalp along with your gun. By the sun I'll play in bear's brain for we haunt on our trail. Come on, men, no time for squabbling. Hitch up the wagon. Let's get going. There's only a short distance to the railroad. We hurry. We can make it before the Indians catch up with us. Come on, now hurry up! For the rest of the night, Madrigo and his men hurried toward the railroad, with many an anxious backward look, expecting to hear the thunder of hooves of hundreds of pagan braves. But they were followed by only two men, the lone ranger on the Great Horse Silver and a silent young Indian brave Black Eagle, son of Lane Bear, on his swift paint pony. It's breaking daylight. Pour the leather into those horses. It should make the railroad another hour. Shorty, you ride on ahead with the scalp for trouble. The Indians might try to head us off. Right, boss. We're goners if they catch up with us. Could have been me on guard instead of Sam Mitchell. How do you shut your mouth and do as you're told? I'll tend to Sam Mitchell. Nobody but an Indian could have sneaked into our camp like that. I'll get going and keep your eye peeled. I'm going right now. 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. When Colonel Graves got Tonto's message, he ordered young Lieutenant Bannister to take a detail of 20 men and guide it by Tonto overtake Matt Madrigo. Madrigo's skull sighted the cavalrymen as the first daylight flooded the prairie. He rode back to warn his boss. Hey, look who's coming yonder, Matt. Hey, Shorty. Got news of some kind. Bad news, most likely. Easy, easy. Well, Shorty, what is it? The United States Army, that's what it is. Getting this way at full gallop. Now we are in for it. I say let's scatter. Every man for himself. You just cool down, Shorty. Listen to me. I'll handle the situation. We'll just mow him in handy. We'll just mow him along natural till the soldier boys arrive. Load on the team there, Lambert. As Lieutenant Bannister let his men over a rise in the prairie, they saw Madrigo's covered wagon and a group of horsemen leisurely moving in the direction of the railroad. Well, I don't see any white buffalo, Lieutenant Bannister. Maybe in the covered wagon. You men spread out and stop anyone who tries to get away. Foster, take your squad around the right flank. Davis, cover the rear. Sergeant, you come with me. Yes, sir. Cover this Madrigo fella. Get up there. Get up. Madrigo and his men watched the approach of the soldiers. Matt himself was calm and poised. He signaled a halt. Hello there, soldier. I want to talk to Matt Madrigo. I'm Madrigo, Lieutenant. What can I do for you? I understand you've got the white buffalo that belongs to lame bears Indians. Yes, sir. That's right. I got the buffalo that did belong to the Indians. He's my property now. I'm going to place you and your men under arrest and take you back to the forts. Who says I stole a critter? An Indian brought the word to Colonel Graves late last night. An Indian, eh? Well, I'll just show you how wrong this Indian is. Trying to stir up trouble, that's what he's doing. I just ask you, Lieutenant, to look over this paper. What's that? Eh, that isn't a proper bill of sale. I'd like to know what he is. I handed over $10,000 in gold for that animal. That's right. It certainly looks regular enough. Witness, file, or Zock, the Indian agent. What do you intend to do with the buffalo? Well, I bought them for Pete Parlam, the circus man. Take a look at them in the wagon there. We got them wound up in enough rope to hog-tie 40 steers. You'll be a lot more comfortable when we untie them and get them loaded into a cattle car. Look at that, Sergeant. What an animal. No wonder the Indians play such a high value on him. Yes, sir. I've heard stories of the white buffalo ever since I came into this country, but I never quite believed there was such an animal. Lieutenant, I gotta hunch there's something fishy about this deal. Hadn't we better heard the whole outfit back to the fort and let the colonel investigate for himself? Sergeant, Madrigo's bill of sale seems to be perfectly legal. We can't take the law into our own hands. If we hurry, however, we might have time to send a scout to Lambert's village and confirm Madrigo's story before the noon freight leaves Buckthorn. If we hurry, so let's go. Yes, sir. Goodbye, Lieutenant. Been a pleasure meeting a smart young officer like yourself. Goodbye. Come on, Sergeant. Get up. See, boys, how easy it was. Yeah, Mad, the two soldiers are downright suspicious. I doubt that any scout can get to Lambert's village and back to the railroad by noon will not take any chances. We'll burn the trail and get the bull loaded on the train as soon as possible. All right, come on, boys. Let's get going. Get off! Tuttle, picking up the trail of the lone ranger who had joined Black Eagle, rode fast to break the bad news that his mission had failed, that Madrigo had fooled the young lieutenant with a paper he said had been signed by Lambert and the Indian agent. That's a forged bill of sales, Tuttle. How can that be proved before you ship the white buffalo? We have two hours. That's right. It'll take much longer than that to reach Lambert's village over the main trail. There's a shortcut through the rim-rock flats. So, old boy, do you think we could make it? We'll try. Tuttle, you and Black Eagle follow Madrigo onto the railroad. We do it. I'll try to get back in time with the Zatian agent. Well, Henry Ames, the marshal at Buckthorn, if he has the evidence. The lone ranger knew that every minute counted, he urged the Great Horse Silver to greater and even greater speed. At a pace that would have killed an ordinary horse, the mighty stallion flashed across the open country to the masked man's destination. The morning was half gone when the Indian agent's office came into view. A moment later... Hey, there. Easy, big fella. I want to see you, Lizzat. I've got your cover, mister. Before we do any further talking, you'd better account for that mask. Who are you? We'll discuss that later. Right now I've got to ask you a question. Did you know that the white buffalo was sold? Sold? What kind of a joke is that? It's no joke. The Indians wouldn't sell that buffalo at any price. The men who claim to have bought it are showing a bill of sale to prove they paid the Indians $10,000 in cash. I don't believe it. The bill of sale was witnessed by you. That's a lie. Who are these men? Where are they? What's their game? I'll take you to them. I'll saddle a horse right away. All right, come on. I'll help you. It was later in the morning when Tahoe and the Indian boy Black Eagle reached the town of Buckthorn. They found a crowd of townspeople gathered at the railroad spur to watch the almost legendary white buffalo as Madrigo's men tried to get it on a cattle train. I'll get some more over the first night. Four or five of your boys tore the rope. Couple of party spirits pulled. The Black Eagle. Me talk to Marshall. Maybe him get back the white buffalo. Mr. Yeah? Madrigo steals white buffalo. Him belong lame bears people. Madrigo takes Black Eagle captive. Madrigo has the bill of sale that looks all right. Will Black Eagle swear out a warrant? Him understand, but him not talk. White man talk. Maybe Lesoth come soon. He signed the bill of sale. I can understand why Black Eagle is angry, but I don't see what I can do about it. All right, hauling ropes. Hey there, Madrigo. Easy with that bull. My own business. You come here, Madrigo. Come here. Marshall, I didn't mean to speak sharp at you. I won't tolerate no cruel, you see. You tell your men to watch how they handle that buffalo. We'll be more careful, Marshall Aims. That's it, fellas. Now you got it. Well, White Buffalo at last made up its mind to enter the cattle car. Black Eagle sobbed and chatted softly as he saw the bull disappear inside the car. And then the car door slammed shut. That's it, boys. Now we can get aboard the train. Go ahead, pile aboard while I signal the engineer. Well, looks like the last year White Buffalo, Black Eagle. Look, look, coming down trail. Great shot. Look at that white horse that's leaving the way. Him, friend. Him bring news. He's mad. That's right. Hey, that man in back of him. That's the result of the Indonesian. What's he doing this far from his office? Black Eagle. Maybe Buffalo not go away. Oh, let that train leave. What's he saying? Not let train leave. Hurry up, boys. Get up for that train. They're right where you are, Madrigo. Hey, who are you, Marshall Aims? Yeah, but a chemo sobbing. White Buffalo already on train. Hurry up, engineer. Get this train rolling. White Bull, they'll be an Indian uprising. They'll mean a lot of bloodshed. What do you mean? Ask the Indian agent. Oh, said he? Yes, he's right. It was better stealing the White Bull. But they showed a bill of sale. You witnessed it. It was a forgery. Then Buffalo not sold. No, Tutto. Hold on now, Madrigo. Stay right where you are. Tell your men to get off that train. Oh, yeah. We're pulling out of here. If anyone tries to stop us, we'll open fire. Looks like they're holding all the ashes. They've got the bull inside the car and they're all holding guns. We'll have a plate on our hands and we'll outnumber it. For a moment it looked as though Matt Madrigo would get away with a white buffalo despite the mask man's efforts. The train was hissing steam. It was ready to pull out toward the state line. Rather than have a lot of gunplay, I'll telegraph ahead to stop the train. Soldiers will take the buffalo off tomorrow or the next day. That will be too late. The aim bears warriors will take the war path before nightfall. Civilization will be set back half a lifetime in this country. Don't you try to start anything, Mr. Marshall. We're leaving here and we don't aim to be stopped. You won't get far. We'll take that chance. Black Eagle, call your friend. Call the white bull. Tell him to come to you. The effect of the Indian boys' loud chalice was something to behold. There was a mighty roar from inside the cattle car and then a crash and a splitting of timber as a powerful bull charged against the door. I'll get you for that. Madrigo brought his gun to bear on Black Eagle, but the heavy gun of the lone rangers spoke first. I'll get you for that. But the heavy gun of the lone rangers spoke first. The outlaw's hand went limp as a bullet shattered his wrist. The gun clear started. Come on, let's not get into it. Right. Madrigo's men, realizing that they had been exposed, were fighting for their freedom. Several duck for cover and kept Marshall aims, the lone ranger and others at bay while too hurried to the engine cab to get the train started toward the east. Then new horsemen came into view. It's the soldiers. They're just in time. They know which side they're on. They think Madrigo has an honest deal. The soldiers knew the right side. They had talked to Lane there. They came in with their carbine sparking in the direction of Madrigo's men. After that, the fight was over quickly. By a tune of remisses, it looks like we and the soldiers have that whole gang rounded up and hugged kind. The army will take care of the Marshall aims. And if testimony is needed, I'll be on hand to give it. There'll be charges far more serious than forgery against those crooks. Just one thing, mister. Yes? Who are you? What does that mask mean? The Indian agent asked me the same question, Marshall. If you were the fact that this man prevented an Indian uprising that might have wiped out every homesteader on the prairie, I decided that I wouldn't press him to remove his mask. Thanks a lot. Come on, tell all our horses away. Black eagle waiting over there with white buffalo. Well, that mask, man. Who can he be? So you don't know who he is. And that's us? How would I know? Well, I could guess. And I'll bet two to one I'd be right if I guessed that he was the Lone Ranger. This is a feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated, created and produced by George W. Trenville, directed by Charles D. Livingston, and edited by Frank Stryker. The part of the Lone Ranger is played by Brace Beamer.