 A fiery horse with a speed of light, a cloud of dust in the heart of Ohio Silver, the Lone Ranger. The settlers in the western United States found that many sections of the new territory were sacred to the Indians and that the red men would rather die than surrender them. Even after treaties had been signed and the Indians had retired due reservations, the settlers had trouble with their superstitions. And if it had not been for the masked rider of the planes with his great strength and courage and his knowledge of the country, this trouble might have led to open warfare. Return with us now to those thrilling days when the West was young. Come out of the past from the thundering hoofbeats of the great horse Silver. The Lone Ranger rides again. Come along Silver, we're heading for Tom Tom. Dust had fallen on Fertile Tom Tom Valley and seated on the front porch of his ranch house. Hugh Finch agreed to tell his son Jimmy the story of how the valley had received its name. All right, all right, young enough, Elliot. My gosh, the way you pester a fellow, you won't have no show. At now, sit still and quit fidgeting around. Was it really named on account of the engines? Was it, Pa? Well, yeah, kind of. They didn't name it Tom Tom Valley, though. Never did know what they called it. Hurry up, Pa. Well, then stop asking so many questions to interrupt. Well, Jimmy, the way I heard it was like this. Once upon a time, long before any whites ever come here to stay, the Redskins set quite a lot of store by this valley. Kind of sacred to them it was. That is, it was to the tribe that lived around here. Didn't mean anything to the others at all. But Pa... Now, don't rush up. You've got me to talk to them and I ain't gonna stop. Anyhow, even though the one tribe figured it was the boss of these parts, there was others that didn't agree with them. The ones here first was Dakotas. The others, I reckon, were mostly Sue. Do they fight? Sure, every once in a while. And every once in a while, some of them Sue would find this here valley. Maybe it'd look good to them and they'd camp. Then the drums had start beating out. Gee! It didn't matter whether them Sue got here at night or day, whether they came here to hooping and hollering or if they snuck in, all of them drums beat out. War drums, Pa? Well, son, that's the funny part of it. They meant war, sure. The minute they heard them, the Dakotas would come racing to the valley and they'd be fighting fit to kill till the Sue's a bamboo store been killed off. Then they was war drums. Well, I guess. But I've talked to trappers that used to come through here at them times. Those trappers claimed the drums was never seen and neither was the fellows that beat them, not even by the engines. Huh? They were spirit drums and was engine spirits made them sound out. Oh, golly. It was like them engine spirits didn't want nobody to come here. The first whites had tried to settle in the valley, heard them. But by then, the engines was on a reservation so there was no fighting. But you know what happened to them first settlers? What, Pa? They'd wake up in the dead of night and find their crops had been crantled or their stock run off or maybe even their houses on fire. Gosh, Pa, that won't happen to us, will it? Will it, Pa? Nope, Jimmy. I reckon that's one thing anyhow we won't have to worry about. It's been 20 years since anybody's claimed to hear them drums. Guess the spirits got tired of standing guard and finally vamoosed like the Sioux used to do. Gee, I'm sure glad of that. So young and that's how the valley got its name. I suppose maybe they... Ah! What? Listen, you hear them? Jumpin' jihasa fat. The drums. Oh, silver. Oh, there. Oh, there. Oh, there. Ah, me hear them. Drums from the direction of Tom Tom Valley. Ah. Drums have been silent for years. Spitter to red man, make noise. Come, Tata. I've heard the legend many times. Now's our chance to investigate. Ah, get him up to the ground. Come on. Hurry, old fellow. Hurry! Sheriff! What? Listen to him, Sheriff. Just listen. Huh? What's got into you, Colonel? Listen to Pa. Gain to him? Shut up, everybody. They quit playing that piano. What's the matter? Shut up, fellas, and listen. The drums. The drums of Tom Tom Valley. Sheriff, it means trouble. It means trouble for the folks that live there. Trouble? Sure, no such thing. Foolishness, that's what it is. Yeah, just foolishness. Feeding out their mysterious rhythm after a silence of 20 years caused excited comment wherever they were heard. But no one would admit they believed in the superstition that the drums meant trouble for the residents of the three ranches in Tom Tom Valley. Late that night, however, Hugh Finch awoke with a start. His son was screaming outside his bedroom door. Pa, wake up, Pa. Please, wake up. Jimmy. Hurry, Pa. Just a second, son. Now, what in tarnation is the matter here? What's all this yell on the bow? Come on, I'll show you. You can see better if you look out the door. Look. There'll be water, water everywhere, all over everything. Kids somehow the reservoirs bust. I woke up and just happened to look out and... Gee. Hmm? The drums, Pa. You think the engine spirits did us? Don't ask me what I think. All I know is I'm going to have one swell time getting water for our critters through the summer. At that same time, the lone ranger and his faithful Indian companion, Tonto, had rained in their mouths halfway up the gradual slope that marked one end of the valley. With the hills throwing back echoes, Tonto, it's hard to be certain just where the original sound came from. I'm sure it must have been somewhere around here. Um, Tonto thinks same. Well, it's dark, though. We won't be able to find out much. We wait a little sun up. I think so. And in the morning, I don't want you to make a trip to town. What do? You know the legend of the drums, Kimasami. You most likely know it better than I do. Some kind of disaster to the residents of the valley always follows when they've been hurt. My part, I certainly don't believe in that old superstition. But we did hear the drums. Indians themselves couldn't have beat them nor soldiers. Isn't that right? That had been a practical joke. If it was, it was a poor one without much point to it. But if trouble did strike at the ranchers below... What do you think? It's not easy to say. That's why I want you to go to town. If anything happened, there'll be talk and you'll hear it. And trouble will suggest a lot of possibilities. And there's a good place to camp in those trees, Kimasami. Come. Get on up, scoundrels. Come on. The following morning, Tonto rode to town and returned later with news of what had happened at the Finch Ranch. During the next week, the drums were not hurt again. And in spite of a thorough search, the Lone Ranger was unable to locate the spot from which the sound came. With just a dusk, exactly seven days later, the masked man was standing beside Silver, fixing his bedroll to the saddle. Yep. Well, there we are, old fellow. That'll hold. Not ready, Tonto? Not take long. No. I don't like leaving here, but I'm afraid we've been wasting our time. Frankly, when we first heard the drums, I suspected that crooks might be using that old Indian legend for purposes of their own. Me think that too. Stands still stealthy. Trouble will follow the drums all right, but not the kind I look for. Certainly no one around here stands to gain by the fact that the water Finch had stored for his cattle is gone. Uh-huh. If it had been a hold-up parade, that would have been a different matter. Most likely it was just a coincidence that the reservoir broke so soon after the drums were heard. That's right. And if it was... Tonto! There they are again. Uh-huh. You hear them. Wait. I closer to them than before, Himasabe. Try your best to locate where that sound's coming from. It come... that way. I think you're right. Me ready. Leave now. Leave? Were the drums sounding a second time? Now that we're seeing this through to the finish, it... Into the saddle. Ride for the drums and hope that this time they'll last long enough to guide us there. Come on, old boy. Come on, old boy. Hurry up, old boy. Hurry! Lone Ranger and Tonto were not the only horsemen who had leaped to the saddle at the sound of the drums. Honk Wooster, one of TomTom Valley's three ranchers and Finch's closest neighbor, urged his mount to its greatest speed as he raced toward town. Get up, bro. Get up. Come on, get up there. Get up there. Finally, he reigned in his lathered horse before the sheriff's office. The drums had stopped, but Honk threw himself from the saddle. Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Have you, sheriff? High word protection. Even, honk. The drums, eh? The dog going right. And I ain't fool enough to think that those drums beat by engine spirits, neither. It's somebody up to some trick. It's somebody that can stop lead just as easy as you and me could. Wait a second, honk. Well... Just what are you scared of? Do you think this time somebody's planned to do you some harm? How should I know? Then what are you... All I know is last time the drums beat us, huge reservoir was built. Maybe this time something will happen to him again, or to me, or to old man Conklin, or maybe to all of us. And you've got to see that it don't. Ain't you jumping awful fast to conclusions? How do you know there was any connection between that reservoir and the drums a week ago? I don't. But I can play safe, can't I? Yeah, yeah. I see what you mean. Well, what are you going to do about it? Just what I was going to do even if you hadn't showed up. Get my deputy and a few others to ride out the valley. There's three places there, and I'll put a couple of them. I'll keep an eye on your place myself. Is that all right? You always going to do that anyhow? Sure. And that's fine. As soon as you get out there, the better. Go on back if you're worried. We won't be ten minutes behind you. Yeah, thanks, chef. I don't know what this kind of a trick would gain anybody. I ain't superstitious. But I don't mind admitting with a long hand how I feel a sight easier in my mind. Here I... It was a matter of but a few minutes for the sheriff to saddle his horse and choose a posse from the many willing volunteers. There were six in his party when he rode out, and two were assigned to each ranch in the valley. He himself chose a rooster place and watched the house from the top of a small rise, while his partner watched from the other side. There was a full moon, and as the sheriff waited, he studied every detail of the surrounding country. Quiet, boy. Quiet. If there was anybody around, I'd just soon not scare him away. Take it easy, boy. Just take it easy. An hour passed. The lawman was becoming restless, and suddenly from below in the direction of Huck Wooster's bar and corrals, bright tons of flames shot in the air. What the? Fire. It's got the barn. She's a goner for sure. Come on, boy. Get up there. Get up. Keep moving, boy. Come on. I'm coming. Get those fellas to carry in the water. Get up there. Get up. Get up. Oh, this way. I see you. Oh, kind of. Oh, that. Oh, oh. You can't save the barn, fellas. Let's try and keep the flames from spreading. All right. There's more pears in the house. Now get the hustle on. I just heard that you see him. Which way to go? Which way to whom go? I had a poor cat to set my barn afire, of course. I mean to say he was watching and never seen him. Uncle, where I was, I could have seen a gopher if he tried to sneak away. Oh, really? I tell you, sure. If I'm sitting here, I never seen nobody. 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. Now to continue our story. The Lone Ranger and Tonto, taking advantage of the bright moonlight, continued their search for the drums. When the flames broke out in the valley, they stopped to watch them. Who shall we look out for? Who shall we look out for? Who shall we look out for? Whoever's behind us is struck again. That's hot wooshed his place. Ah. We ride there? No, wait. Heat big fire? One moment. Note how to look. They have plenty of help. See them against the blaze? They have all the men they need to get the fire under control. Ah. Apparite. I think it's more important for us to find where the drums were hidden. And now it must have been somewhere right in here. Come. Let's have a look by those rocks. Ah. Get them up Scout. Come on, old boy. There's a clearing behind them. There's a sign to be found. It'll be plain there. Ah. Luckily, we have more light to see by than we had last week at this time. Here we are. Pull up, Kimosubby. Oh, Scout. Oh, oh, oh, oh. Yep. Let it climb down. You can see better. Ah. Ah. Tattle, is that... It is. Tattle, come here. Ah. What you find? What we've been looking for, Tattle. The place where the drums were. Ah, there. Sign. Right. Right here. Oh, me see them. Tattle, the drums may have been ghost drums, and they may have been beat by an Indian spirit. But if they were, he wore cowmen's boots and rolled his own cigarettes. Ha, ha, ha. Him heap, funny spirit. Ha, ha, ha. See anything else? Oh. Not all. Yes, it does seem to be all. I'd hope that once we found this place, it would tell us more. As a matter of fact, however, that fellow rode away from here over that malpie. I doubt that we can even trail him. Hmm, that way him go. You see? Yes. You can see the Prince of his horse until he reaches the lava rock and no farther. Ah. So that trail's ended. And there's no use keeping this spot under observation. He won't be back. Remember last week, Tattle? Ah. The sound of the drums came from that side of the valley. The places changed each time to escape capture. That's right. Actually, and beyond the fact that the drums aren't sounded by spirits, which we knew before, this is told as just one thing. What that? That for some reason, the man or men doing this choose to let the drum be heard at intervals of exactly one week. Hmm. And I think we can be pretty sure the drums will be heard in another week exactly at this time. Why you think that? Because they're following a pattern. There were three ranches in the valley. Last week, the drums beat out and they struck at Finch. And this week again, the moosters barn burned. Me savvy. There's one rancher left, Countlin. Mark my words, Tattle. You'll hear the drums again a week from now. Why, Tattle, do this? That's what I can't understand. They gain nothing by it. I mentioned that before. It could be revenge, of course, but that doesn't explain the drums. A man after revenge wouldn't announce the hour when he's going to strike. It could mean that the whole district would be on hand. Tattle, wait. Huh? I think I have it. I see a reason for this. One of the best reasons in the world. I may be wrong, but if I'm not, it'll explain everything. Go back to Camp, Tattle. I want to think this out. Ready? Huh? You ready? Let's go. Get him up to school! Another week passed, and early on the evening of the seventh day in the office of the sheriff, the lawman was busy inserting bullets into the warren cylinders of his two heavy guns. You Finch and Curly, who had dropped in to talk, looked on in amusement. Figure on going ghost hunting again tonight, Sheriff. Gonna fill one of them engine spirits full of lead. Huh? Me? Don't seem to me, Sheriff, that guns are just to think for that kind of joke. Hey, you fellas got me wrong. This ain't on account of the drums. No. You forget what day this is? It's the fifteenth. It's the day the train horse brings in cash for Slocum's bank. Oh, yes. Slip my mind. Oh, I said so. You ought to recollect it, Curly. You used to work for Slocum. Sure, I... I just been thinking about them drums so much tonight. I guess I was forgetting, man. They do things Slocum ever forgets. He's always hounding me to be there when the train gets in. Not that I blame him much. Forty-fifty thousand is a sight of cash. Which same I could use some of. Well, is there any one of us that couldn't? But speaking of the drums, Sheriff, don't you really figure we'll hear them again tonight? I wouldn't even try to make a guess. Most everybody else figures they will. Uh-huh, so I've noticed. Sheriff, I'll bet they in a man, woman or child able to stick a saddle that ain't just waiting for them drums to high-tail for the valley. I think I don't know it. Look outside. That's where all their folks come from. Everywhere, as I reckon. Didn't know there was that many in the whole state. You mean all them are going to the valley? All them? You ain't seen nothin'. There's more all over town. And they're just the lazy ones. Too lazy to ride out to the valley unless they're sure there's going to be some excitement. Huh? There's ten times that many out there already are on the trail headin' there. It's what's an election day. Well, it'll all go. Well, what'd you expect? They've all heard about the drums and the stories folks tell. Sure, they'd be interested. Well, anyhow, I don't... Leave them satisfied. The drums again. Dad, let it more trouble. Come on. Last time the fellow set fire to the hump, place got away. But this time... Get him? Get him? Very early, I'll hang that pin so high he'll look like a pro up there. Hi, deputy. Give my horse. The lone ranger in Tonto watched the crowd of curious men and women as it poured into the valley. Tonto, with that crowd on its way, it doesn't matter whether my theory is right or wrong. What do you mean? If confidence and danger, Tonto, we certainly couldn't protect him if that crowd can't. That's right. There are hundreds of them. Huh? I think that's exactly what the men behind us have planned on. Huh? What time is it? It's time we ride. It must be chemists. I'll be coming. Get him up, scoundrel. All right, old fellow, let's go. In the excitement caused by the third sounding of the drums, no one, not even the sheriff, remembered the train that was racing across the prairies toward town. It was a valuable shipment of gold. For 200 miles, its rails stretched across level country. Not until the town was inside did the journey become difficult. Then forced to fight its way up a steep grade, the train slowed down until it was barely making headway. Suddenly, two hooded and mounted figures raced toward the engine, firing as they came. The engineer held stubbornly to the open throttle, thought better than a bullet glanced in the middle of his cab. He threw the brake, gears clashed, and the train came to a reluctant stop. The bandits threw guns on the frightened passengers and ventured from the cars. Fire over the reach. All right, first one, go through the gun gets filled. Fire, they're conducted. Tell them expressly to open up their car. That's the one we're interested in. You tell them if they don't, we're going to make you pay. It's time to make you hustle. The next one won't miss. Hey, keep an eye on him, boss. That drummer there looks like he kind of wants to try something. Yeah, well, I'll teach him. You there! Maybe next time you know we mean what we say. What's the matter with that conductor? What's he taking so long for? He's doing his best. He can tell by the way he's waving his arms around. He knows what he'll get if he don't. Yeah, yeah. How are you there? Step back in the light. Don't go trying to edge your way. Wouldn't be healthy. Hey, look there. Hustle it up. Maybe I better ride down there. Hey, careful of them guards. They ought to have shot guns. Don't worry. I'll take it. Hey, who's that? Trader Sheriff. Don't I know it? We've got to do something. But what'll we do? Them shots come too close. We've got to get out of here. But the cash. Our place is with the cash. Result us another time. I'm saving my skin. Come on this way. Run for it. Wait, you can't go that way. Then what are we going to do? You see, they've got us cut off. They look at them horses traveled. They catch us in no time. What do we do? Ride for the engine. They can't touch us. Get up, boy. Come on, get up. Get up. Come on, man. Come on, get us. We'll blast the headlights out of you. Here we are. Pull up. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Get out of the way out there. They'll move you too or stop them. All right, get a move on. Climb up. Come on, get me a push. Up you go. All right, come on. Get down. The bullets can't go this way. All right. The bullets are stopping. Fill them. Pull on your guns and surrender. Away the chiller chiller. Surrender. Come out of there with your hands in the air. Stop this. Even after the drums had stopped beating, the sheriff watched for an attack on the Compton ranch house. Then came, however, and finally he turned to Hugh Finch. Well, Hugh, I reckon this time it ain't no use. Too many of us. If they had anything planned, we scared them off. Yeah, Sheriff. It looks like it. Anyhow, I'm going back. There's plenty of others that'll wait. We'll be able to drive most of them away till daylight. And then... Sheriff, turn around. Huh? Well, I'll be a masked man in a red skin. Driving two fellas ahead of them wearing hoods. All right. Pull up. Pull up and raise your hands. You're all under arrest. Hold it. Hold it. Hold it. They wrote you prisoners, Sheriff. Here. I don't think this one's hood off. Now look at him. Curly. This fellow. Why, it's hunk wooster. Well, what do you do? Now, listen here. It's all a mistake, Rick. Why, it's... Sheriff, this mask may so... Sheriff, these men just have tempted to hold up the train. We'd rather take them back to town as a dozen witnesses waiting for you. The train? Slocum's cash. No golly, I clean forgot it. Which was just what these fellas expected. Huh? They're the ones who use those drums. Curly confessed on the way here. He'll tell you where to find them. I'll tell you... The first time the drums sounded, they broke Finch's reservoir. Knowing no one would really expect trouble. Yeah, but then... The second time, Sheriff, while you were watching for someone to leave or try to reach hunk's place, he himself set fire to his barn. A few dollars it would take to replace it where nothing to the stakes he was playing for. You're telling that straight? I am. The first time, got people interested, Sheriff. And the second convinced them there would be trouble in the valley each time the drums sounded. And the third time brought every man, woman, and child out here while they held up the train in plain sight of town without being disturbed. Well, I'd be dog-gone. And they wouldn't have been disturbed if Tata and I hadn't suspected their games. Say, who are you? Yeah, mister, what do you do? You have your prisoners. But I... I can wait. Are you still there? Hold on, hold on there! Gone. Uh-huh, just like... Huh? The Lone Ranger. Sure, you have just heard as a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated.