 the speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty howl silver, the lone ranger. With his faithful Indian companion, Toto, the mask rider of the plains 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. We begin with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear. From out of the past, from the thundering hoofbeats of the great horse Silver, the lone ranger rides again. The lone ranger and Toto rained their horses to a halt on one of the high mountain trails in Pile Canyon. That rider we've unfailing, Toto, is that him crossing the creek down there? Ah, young fella ride Buck's skin pony. You've had him in sight for three days now. Only a few miles from here to El Cinco, you got there all right? Ah, I can't understand why Sheriff Ferguson was worried about... You know, Savvy, look, see two men ride horses, close in on young fella. Yes, you're right. They're the same two who've been trailing us. Ah, better we get to bottom of trail plenty quicker. Yes, we'll...no, Toto, wait a minute. You're not Savvy. That's a big fella. A little closer. Both of those men have dismounted. One of them is going to climb over the ridge. You'll waylay the boy on that cutback in the trail. That reason we not helped young fella? No. The main thing is both of them are wearing lawman's badges. And young fella crook, huh? I don't know, Toto. Come on, we'll walk the horses and use a side trail. Maybe we can get with in here a shot of what's going on. Oh, oh, oh, boy. I guess I must have lost those armies who were trailing me. Ain't seen hiding or harrowing or something. That's too close for comfort. They must be... I'll head for those rocks. That came from this side of the trail up ahead. It's a good thing I grabbed my wooden chester out of the saddleboat. The buzzard poachers head up. You won't do nothing, Buster. What? Right behind you. With a gun, the trigger's mighty easy. Drop that rifle. Drop it. That's it. Now I'm going to sing out, so don't get jumpy. Pete! Oh, Pete! That's you, Jack. I got him. He headed for the rock just like we figured he would. You're looking pretty. Say, what's the idea? You road agents have been dogged my trail for two days. Three. What happened to the mask one of you was wearing? The Indian get up. That's some of your crew. We spotted them, too. Why'd you split up? That's a lie. You gunsling and jaspers know it. Take a look at his badge and my vest. You mean, Norman? What'd you expect? Pick up his winchester, Pete. I guess that was the only hardware he was packing. I don't know what kind of a dodge you gents are trying to pull, but I can... Walk over to that coyose of yours. And you'd better keep them hands elevated. Move. Suppose you are, Norman. What are you trailing me for? In case you don't know, you're in Payute County. Have been for the last two miles. I happen to be the sheriff here. Name's Jack Booth. This is Pete Crawford, my deputy. That doesn't mean anything to me. What's your name? Bob Stevens. Are you sure of that? Memory ain't failing, is it? I ought to know my own name. I'm getting tired of... What did you say your name was again? Stevens. Bob Stevens. Hear that, Pete? Might need your statement if he tries to deny it later on. Yeah, deny it. Why should I deny my own name? Because it ain't yours. Ain't mine. What in the world are you talking about? It didn't bury him deep enough. Burry him? Who? Bob Stevens. After you bushwhacked the kid, you should have buried him deeper. Kyle's dug him up and he was identified. You're local. I'm Bob Stevens. Then why did Sheriff Ferguson over in Portaville send word that Stevens had been murdered? And that you'd probably head this way to claim the property young Bob inherited? Wait a minute. Now, look. I got a letter from a lawyer in El Sanko telling me about my uncle, Diane. Sheriff Ferguson in Portaville saw it right here in my pocket. Keep your hands up. Like he's not, you stole everything Stevens had on him when you did the killing. I tell you, I'm Bob Stevens. Stubborn carcini. Yeah. We'll take him into town. Climb in your car used, bud, and don't try any tricks. But I tell you... All right. Now, line out up the trail. We'll be right behind you. And remember, I just as soon pump lead into a murderer's look at him. Get out there. Get out. Come on. What do you think, Kimosabe? I don't know, tunnel. We trail him? Yes. Here, Silver, Scott. Maybe young fella fool Norman at Portaville and fool us? That's possible, study, Silver. If Norman seemed plenty sure. Him have crook. He may be right. They won't do any harm for us to find out for ourselves. Come on, Silver. Come on, Scott. Now what? This is the best jail we've got. Hit the dirt. Guess it won't do any good to tell you again that you're making a mistake. Not a bit. Take the horses down to the stable, Pete. Yeah. Get it. Come on. Get it. Better empty your pockets right here in the desk. Don't allow prisoners to keep anything on them while they're here. They've already got my rifle. I'm not carrying anything except some tobacco. Papers. Jackknife. A money belt. I'll take care of these until you... Congratulations, Sheriff. Pete Crawford just told me you found that murder from Porterville. We got him all right. Who's this? My name's Qualey, young man. Lawyer Qualey. Qualey? You must be the... You wrote me a letter. I wrote to Robert Stevens, the nephew of the late Amos Stevens. Yeah, that's me. You see, Qualey, he's one of their mombries who goes right online, even when he knows he's beat. Yeah, I can see that. Here's Clay Fisher. Hear the news, Clay? Yeah. Here's another one of them telegraph messages for you, Sheriff. Just come in down to Defoe. You're the brass pounder. You must have riddled it out. What does it say? A description of the Jasper Sheriff Ferguson thinks must have murdered Bob Stevens. Let me see it. Hmm. About five feet ten. Medium weight. Brown hair. Blue eyes. Kind of Winchester riding a buckskin pony. This is him. Real name's Johnny Harper. So that's your handle, eh? How many times do I have to tell you? My name is Bob Stevens. Clay, you go back to the depot and send Sheriff Ferguson a message. Yeah. Tell him I've arrested this barman and... Oh, what's the matter, Jack? Who's that Redskins standing out there? Redskins? Oh, they all look alike. What the... Hey, engine! What you hanging around here for? Oh, me hunt for color. Make talk on the wire. Talk on the... Oh. Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho. You mean the telegrapher? Ah. Customer for you, Clay. You want to send a telegram engine? No. Me not do it now. Come scouts. What do you mean? No light wire to talk. Get him on scouts. Well, I'll be... The engine's local. One look at you, Clay, and he changes my... Shut up. Come on, Bob. Back in the cell for you. Move. If there ever was a frame-up, this is it. They all say that. Every critter that's ever been in the same place you are. Take it over, Bob. Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho. Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho. You made a fast trip, Tunnel. What did you find out? Laughman. Laughman put young feller in jail. Sheriff has evidently convinced the boy's a murderer. Ah. When me outside Laughman's office, man who make wire talk come in there. Me not the telegrapher? Ah. Him bring message from Sheriff Ferguson in Porterville. You can't understand why Sheriff Ferguson would ask us to trace Stevens. Then why are the... Oh, no. What kind of a jail do they have in El Cinco? Well, it's not big. It's made from dopey block. Good. Isn't there a trail that circles south of town so we can reach the rear of the jail without being seen? Ah. We right now? No, not yet. No way till after sundown. I don't know, Clay Lee. Everything's got to be strictly legal. Would I suggest anything that wasn't legal? Well, all right. Pete. Hey, Pete. Yeah? Mr. Qualey wants to talk to that barman we've got pinned up. Take a lantern and show him the way back there. Sure. That isn't necessary, Sheriff. I know the way. Give me the lantern. Be careful. He's kind of tricky. So am I. Now, Johnny, you don't look very cheerful. Well, how many times do I have to tell you, my name is... Bob Stevens, I know. Then why don't you... Oh, it's you, a lawyer. What do you want? To help you. Yeah? Why? Well, that's my business, helping people who are in trouble. You're the one who got me into this thing. If you hadn't written about my Uncle Amos dying, I wouldn't have got you... Now, Johnny, it's bad business for a client to lie to his lawyer. Tell the truth. Well, of all the... Listen, I'm not your client. And if I wanted a lawyer, you'd be the one... Now, forget that. I said I wanted to help you. How? Get you out of here. There's a door at the back of this place. It's unlocked. And there's a horse tied to a cottonwood tree about 50 feet away. Yeah? Even if that was true, it wouldn't help me. Those iron bars you're leaning up against are no... How's that, hmm? Yeah. I... How did you... Ah, never mind. Told you I wanted to help you. Yeah. Here's a gun. Thanks. Don't make any noise. Walk slowly. You reach the back door. Then get out. I don't see why you... Hurry up, hurry up, before the sheriff hears you. Don't tell him. Don't tell him. Don't. Is that the jail's auto? Uh-huh. We'll walk over to this side first, and then I... Wait a minute. Somebody coming out the back door. Uh-huh. It's young fella, Bob Stevens. He's heading for a horse. Hitched to the tree. Uh-huh. Making him a suit to... Sir, Pete! He's got the way! Tony Harper's got the way! Where is he? Hi, Jim! There he goes! Come out of the way! Give guns to him! We'll never talk to Stevens unless we keep him alive. Yes, sir. We're afraid of him. Got him! Let him have it! He's heading south, Tutto. We've got the catching before the law does. Follow the boy. Get him up! Come on, Silver! We read the word. I want a poshie. Every man in town. We'll nail that kid in his old hoop pods. They're heading out the south trail. Bring every man here, and we'll get him! 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 two continue our story. The horses at top speed, the Lone Ranger and Tutto quickly overtook the escaping prisoner. Wait! Wait up! This gun's no good. Oh, Silver, hold it! Hold it! There's no use in trying. Quick, take that side trail to the left. There's a poshie right behind us. We've got to lose it. Well, you're masked. I thought you were... Hurry, we've got to move off this trail. And the end of the end, he's the same one I saw this afternoon. We'll be time for explanations later. Lead off, Tutto. We'll follow you. Get him up! Get him up, Silver! Leading the way, the Lone Ranger and Bob Stevens urge their horses along a half-ridden back trail that led through Tangled Mesquite and Chaparral. The sudden disappearance of three horsemen that apparently vanished into thin air baffled the Sheriff's poshie. Angrily, they gave up the pursuit and returned to El Sinco, unaware that less than half a mile away in the Lone Ranger's secluded camp, Bob Stevens had finished telling his story. That's all I know about it. The Sheriff Jack Booth and his deputy picked me up on the trail east of here late this afternoon. They arrested me for killing myself. Yes, I know. Tutto and I were there. There? Well, I didn't see... I mean, how... Tell me, uh, tell me, you are Bob Stevens, aren't you? Sure. I swear I am. I believe you, Bob. That's why Tutto and I helped you to dodge the poshie. I'm sure grateful to you for what you've done, but I don't see why... You're for no other reason. You got a friend of Sheriff Ferguson in Porterville. You? A masked owl who? A friend of Sheriff Ferguson? Well, I guess there's no use of me trying to figure it out. More important to discover the reason for the trouble you're in. Yeah. Where can you start? Whole things all mixed up. Did you say it was clearly the lawyer who unlocked your cell and gave you a gun? Yeah. An empty one. If you hadn't been there, they would have drilled me. It was a double cross. Yes, I know. That seems as good a place as any to start. What do you mean? With the lawyer. How do you go ahead and find out where he lives? Bob and I will meet you at the edge of town in about an hour. Ah, you do it. Tonto left the Lone Ranger's camp and arrived on the outskirts of El Sinco a few moments later. He dismounted there and led Scout through the thick shadows that cloaked the sleeping town. Making use of his instinctive trailing sense was only a short time until the masked man's faithful Indian companion had completed the task assigned to him. In the meantime, the Lone Ranger and Bob Stevens arrived at their pre-arranged meeting place. Who? Who's over there? Who? Who? Tonto should be around. Yes. There he is. Must be somewhere near that row of houses. I'll make as little noise as you can. Come on, Tonto. Get up. Come on. Who? Who? Who? Easy big fella. He was funny. Yes, Tonto. He found a house where Qualey fell alive. Good. Easy. Which one is it, Tonto? Last one. End of street. You come with me, Bob. Right. Tonto weighs here with the horses. I want to keep our back trail covered. Sure. All I'd like to know is... No questions now. Except the ones we're going to ask Mr. Qualey. Come on. Right in the front door. I think one of the windows will be quicker. We'll try it. Yeah. Here's one they didn't take away from me at the jail. Good. Strike it. We'll risk a light. Nothing here. Must be in the bedroom over there. We'll try that. Bed him? Over there asleep. We'll see. Qualey. Qualey. Ah, Dad. Hey, what the... Fight the lamp, Bob. Yeah. Masked. An outlaw. Hey. And Johnny Harper. My name ain't Harper and you know it. What do you want? The truth. How did you get in here? I'll call the sheriff. The first thing you'll do is answer some questions. There could be a murder right here in your bedroom, Mr. Qualey. What do you want to know? Why did you give Bob Stevens an empty gun and help him escape from jail? Why, I didn't know... And then yell for the sheriff. So I'd be shot trying to get away. I didn't know the gun was empty. Let's make any difference now. You wrote Bob a letter telling him his uncle had died. I wrote to Bob Stevens in Fortesville, not to this... What does Amos Stevens, a state, consist of? I refuse to do... Answer my question. Well, just a little shack on that hill east of town. No money? Nothing. Just a shack. And it's not worth over $100. Now that the real Bob Stevens have been murdered... Your story and your actions don't make sense, Qualey. Who else is behind this thing? I don't care if you are threatening me with a gun. There's no outlaw can break into my house and force it. I'll get word to the sheriff. Did you hear that? Sounded like somebody... Yes, Bob. Now I'm beginning to understand. Quick. Take one of those sheets. We'll see that Mr. Qualey doesn't move for a while. Now listen, you can't get away... That's what you think. Hand me some script, Bob. Here. Good. Now hold him while I tie a few nuts and fix a gag. Right. Say, why did he sing out like that? He must have been walling somebody. Yes, you're right. And I think I know who it was. There. Now come on. We'll have to hurry. Did you see anyone leave the house while Bob and I were inside? Ah. Two-peller, run out, backdoor, plenty fast. I thought so. Which way are we heading? The railway station. How do you figure that? I may be wrong, but I... Come on, soon. Get up. This place is all locked up. Nobody here. Yes, I'm afraid they beat us to it, steady. To what? No sign of... Wait. There's somebody on that bunk over there. A sleep. I hope so. Like one of those wall lamps. Yeah. Who is the gent? I think it's a telegrifer. That right, Tunno? Ah. Same fella. But he... He's plugged through the head. Ah. We'll kill him. Isn't this the man who brought the telegram to the sheriff this afternoon? Yeah. I'm sure he is. Don't savvy how you know. The telegram was a fake. And when the men who left Qualey's house a few minutes ago found out we were there, they came over here and killed their partner. Who are they? We'll find out soon enough. There's only one place he'll head for. Where? Your uncle's shack. The one Qualey was telling us about. Come on. The ears have broken down looking place. Uncle Amos must have... Steady. Maybe a different story on the inside, Rob. A pretty dirty one, too. Uncle Amos lived all alone. I guess he wasn't very particular. They knew we were trailing them. And this would be the logical place to head for. Who are you talking about? There's nobody here. Oh, I'm not so sure. I thought so. What do you mean? This part of the floor. It's a trapdoor. There must be a cellar or something. Let me lift a ton of... I'll strike another light, Bob, so we can see. Down, both of you. Who is it? Who's down there? Have a good idea. And as soon as I... I think that did it. Come up out of there, both of you. And come up with your hands above your heads. What? It's the sheriff. There isn't any deputy. Listen here. I'm the sheriff of this county. You mean you were the sheriff. When the United States Marshal hears about this, you'll have a different title. So these Lord Dogs were double crossing me all the time. Even before they picked you up and accused you of murdering yourself. But why? It don't make sense. The answer must be down here in the cellar. Keep them covered ton of... What? Wait. You mean this shack? No, it's underneath it. A good-sized gold mine. A gold mine? Well, I'll be... And these buzzards were trying to cheat me out of it. It's pretty obvious. Qualey, the lawyer, knew about it. When your Uncle Dan, he willed it to you. Qualey worked with the sheriff here. But why trail me for three days? They wanted to get rid of you legally. When you didn't try to shoot it out and give them an excuse for a killing, they locked you up. Then the lawyer thought of that double-cross escape. Probably. Would have worked if you hadn't stepped in and stopped it. You and Tunnel keep them covered until I can ride into town. I'll bring back some horses. So the sheriff and his deputies can ride to jail. Boy, I never figured a thing like this would happen to me. You feel plenty good, huh? Sure. Who wouldn't? I've just inherited a gold mine. But I still don't understand why an outlaw goes to all this trouble to help somebody he's never laid eyes on before. Oh, no. You make big mistake. Yeah? What do you mean? A man who helped you, him not outlaw. Him Lone Ranger. What you have just heard is a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated.