 horse with a speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty hyo silver, the lone ranger. With his faithful Indian companion, Tonto, the masked 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, nowhere in the pages of history can one find a greater champion of justice. Return with us now to the thrilling days of yesteryear. From out of the past come the thundering hoofbeats of the great horse Silver, the lone ranger rides again. In the center of a corral on Mustang Mags, Texas ranch, a handsome, fiery, silvery white cold plunged and pitched. His nostrils flaring and his hoofs flashing as they caught the rays of the sun. But try as he would, the son of Silver could not dislodge the masked man who sat so expertly in his saddle. For days the lone ranger had been gentling the wild-spirited cold so that Dan Reed, his 14-year-old nephew, could learn to master the horse and claim him for his own. First the hackamore was slipped over the cold's head. When he had become accustomed to that, he was introduced to the saddle. Now he was having his first experience with man, a strange creature who sat astride his back and defied every attempt of the cold to toss him. Suddenly the horse shook his head and settled quietly on his sturdy feet, and the lone ranger guided him to the rail where Tonto and Dan were looking on. Steady boy. Take the reins, Dan. Now on you must master him yourself. Golly, I could only learn to ride like you. And that take plenty practice. Yeah, I know. I mean to practice plenty too. Do you think you can handle the colds now? I'm going to try. Keep a firm hand, Dan, but don't abuse it. Only a cruel and stupid rider makes his mount submit by yanking on the reins. Yes, sir. He's a spirited horse, Dan. Not right. He's already shown some of the same qualities as Silver. Hell, it's up to you to develop those qualities. Gosh, I couldn't want for anything more than to have him be as fine a horse as Silver. Maybe when I... What is it? I just happened to think. I haven't given him a name. The Colt already has a name, Dan. Oh. Are you sure? Yes. He was named when he was just a little fellow. We named the youngster when we brought him here to Mustang Mags Ranch. I hoped I could think of a real good name for him. Hold on. Maybe you can. There's no reason why we can't give him a new name. Oh, really? I tell you what, Dan. The day you ride the Colt successfully, you can select a name for him. Oh, golly. I've got to ride him now. Steady, boy. Steady now. Steady. Now, boy. Bring him in, Dan. Bring head down. I'm trying to pull. Pull, boy. Look out. Post-flashing, the high-spirited Colt twisted and rolled as Dan tried frantically to cling to his precarious perch. Then the youth found himself flunked in the saddle and sprawled uncomfortably in the sand. Are you hurt, Dan? You hit dirt plenty hard. I'm all right. Just had the breath knocked out of me. I guess I must have looked awfully silly. So you'll know his head like that. Colt Victor that time. I'll stay in the saddle this try. I'm afraid that fool might make him lose his nerve, Tonto. He's going to try again. And that good sign. Dan make up mind to ride Colt now. Steady, boy. At this time, we're sticking together. Get up there, boy. That's the boy. I guess he's beginning to like me. This is Parker. Stay with him. Colt throw Dan again. Him still Victor. I thought I was on him for sure that time. Don't take it so hard, Dan. It isn't easy to master a spirited Colt like that. Stay with him and keep trying. The only way you'll learn. Go on, Tonto. Well, next time you'll see me, I'll stay in the saddle. Here, boy. Come here. In the nearby town of Trigger Bend, it promised to be another sunny, serene afternoon. Then, suddenly, townfolk were electrified by the sound of shrieking. And the sight of a masked man running from the express office with a flaming gun. Deputy boys, he recognized us. Drop those guns. Riddle them. If he lives here... Drop the express office. Shoot them. We're getting away. Drill them down. A single shot echoed armlessly in the street and the deputy staggered, then crumpled to the ground. For a moment, the crowd stared, then hurried toward the fallen figure as the outlaws whipped their horses out of town. The first to reach him was Steve Lasker, owner of the 10-strike café. Help me turn him over. It looks like there ain't a blame thing we can do for him, folks. He's dead. Look out, let me through. Stand aside for the law. It's the sheriff, old Missouri. Stand back and let him through. Make way for the sheriff. About time you showed up, sheriff. Here's to me, your deputy was representing the only law we had in Trigger Bend. Them's lifeless words, Steve Lasker. But I'm in no mood to argue them now. Them. Them, where you hit, pard? You're wasting your breath, Missouri. He's dead. Shot by them bandits who robbed the express office. I can't... Thunderation. What's the matter? Lem couldn't have been killed by the outlaws. He was shooting it out with them face to face. He's been shot in the back. By thunder there's nothing lower than shooting a man in the back, not even horse-stealing. When I get my hands on the dirty, ordinary, underhanded, yellow-livered coyote that gunned that shot, I'll... You're a loud, talk-and-empty-headed fool, sheriff. You've got more smoke than you have. It's about time we called your bluff. Dead rats, your hide, Steve Lasker. That's the fifth robbery them outlaws have got clean away with. You don't even know who they are. Ain't I doing everything a man can to find out? Them obraries ain't ordinary outlaws. We ain't interested in alibis, are we, boys? We're interested in results. You'll get results. Just give me a chance. We're making sure we get results, sheriff. We're setting up a vigilantes committee. Ain't that right, boys? Yes, sir. Take it. Sure, vigilantes. If you can't capture them, crooks we will. I move we make Steve Lasker leader of the vigilantes. We meet tonight and make it official. From now on, boys, we'll take care of them crooks ourselves. Some time later, Steve Lasker sat with a hard-faced gunman named Duke and a youth, Kip Mortimer, in the back room of the Ten Strike Café. Well, I can't go on with it, Steve. I'm pulling out. You young coyote. Take it easy, Duke. I didn't bargain for murder. You don't want to pull out, Kip. You made me an outlaw. Crook like your sales. You've been murder-useful. Your parby and bank president made it possible for us to know where and when the boys could make the richest holes. You've learned all the information from me you're going to. I'm through. Ain't you forgetting something? Well, if you mean that $5,000 gamblin' debt I ran up in your crook at poker games, you can tell my father. I couldn't be punished worse than I am. Oh, that gamblin' debt came in handy. But there's a bigger reason why you can't quit. The information you gave us makes you guilty along with the rest of us. Why did you have to kill the debtors? He spotted the boys robin' the express office. That ain't all. He recognized us. Steve hadn't drilled them. There'd be a posse on our heels now. Tom won't take this murder line down. They'll look for somebody to string with a hang-news. Well, they'll get somebody. But it won't be us. What do you mean? The town's holding a meeting tonight to vote me leader of a vigilantes committee. They're electing you to track the killer? Yeah. I'm making sure them tracks don't lead to me. But the sheriff, Missouri... Missouri's a tongue-wagon fool. As head of the vigilantes, I'll have the law in the palm of my hand. Missouri's got friends, Steve. Yes, the Lone Ranger and the Injun. I know those hombres. If they chip in with the sheriff, they'll get us for sure. Hey, I saw Missouri high-tailed for Mustang mags not long ago. I'll give you odds he's taking his troubles to the mask men. Oh, I forgot about them two. Lone Ranger and your pa are kind of friendly, ain't they, Kip? That's right. I guess they are. Sure. Lone Ranger is mostly responsible for him being appointed president of the bank after Jarvis Matthews was jailed. What are you getting at? I reckon if your pa was in danger and asked the Lone Ranger's help, he'd get it. And if it meant going to your pa's ranch, the mask quit it go. What? That's lonesome country where you live, Kip. Dangerous, too. Only way to get there is by skirting a cliff overlooking the stream. If you mean to murder him out... Steve, you sound like you've got an ace up your sleeve. I have. And if it's played right, it'll trump the Lone Ranger for keeps. Meanwhile at Mustang Mags, Dan Reed sought to get better acquainted with his new horse by sponging and brushing the silvery white coat. Easy. Stand still, boy. This won't hurt a bit. Stop kicking up your heels. You know you like this. Quiet. Quiet, boy. Hey, wait! Oh, you wild collute. You kicked over that bucket of water all over me. Now I'll have to fill that bucket all over again. Ouch! Now that's the last straw. Flickin' your tail right in my face. Oh, boy. Oh, boy. Oh, steady, boy. Morning, son. I'm looking for the Lone Ranger. Morning. He's in the house with Mustang Mags. I'm anxious to see him. I'm looking for the Lone Ranger. Well, you come to the right place, son. Come on in. Why, it's Kip Mortimer. I haven't seen you in a dog's age. How's your pa? That's why I'm here. He's in trouble. What kind of trouble, Kip? I don't know. He wouldn't tell me. But he needs you right away. I see. He said he was threatened by the outlaws who have been staging all the hold-ups. My ginger, I'm going with you. I'm going with you. No, Dan. Don't go alone. Where's your father, Kip? He's home. I'll take you to him. Oh. He's usually at the bank at this time. He went home early. All right. Come on. How much farther is it, Kip? Just around that bend. We ride long time. We'll soon be there. What's the matter? My horse is lame. I'll have to pull up. Come on, Silver. Get him up the scout. Kip's behaving strangely, Toto. Ah, him plenty nervous. What's that ahead? Well, me not see. Oh, this country plenty lonesome. Me not like it. All right. We'll soon be outlaws. Ah, then hide behind holders. Come on, Silver. Get him up the scout. With an outlaw pack close at their heels, the lone ranger and Toto urge their march to greater speeds up the mountain slope. The flashing hooves of Silver and the flying feet of Scout lengthen the gap between them and the pursuers. Then, as they neared the bend on the trail, they saw a second outlaw band routed and right toward them. And then, boys, Toto. Gang divide trappers between them. Our only escape is straight ahead, huh? Wait. Wait. There's to be clip. You're right. We're 12. Curtains falls on the first act of our lone ranger's story. Before the next exciting scenes, please permit us to pause for just a few moments. As the outlaws closed in from two sides, the lone ranger and Toto rained in Silver and Scout at the brink of the cliff. They saw that the rocky ledge dropped sheer and sharp to the blue water of a stream. Our only chance, Toto. Come on, Silver! At the mask man's and the Indians' command, the powerful Silver and Sturdy Scout raced toward the edge of the cliff and gatted their strength into mighty leaps which carried them beyond the craggy brink and plunged them and their masters toward the stream below. A shout of mingled rage and astonishment rose in the outlaws as they rained in the horses at the mountain's ledge. Then they fired scattered, wasted shots at the tiny figures who were swimming strongly to shore. It was dusk when Kip Mortimer, riding slowly toward his father's ranch, heard the staccato beat of hooks behind him and turned to see a mask man, astride a white stallion and an Indian who sat a paint rapidly overtaking him. They're coming to get me. They'll kill me. Get up, boss! Get up there! Get up, boss! Stay where you are! Oh, Silver! I warn you! Now we'll talk. I'll take the rope off of me. So Titer can't get my breath. Titer ropes in there so the penalty for murder, Kip. Why you are? Why did you lead us into ambush? Answer me. They made me do it. Steve Laskin, Duke. You're the deputy if I didn't. Who did murder the deputy, Kip? Steve, he shot him from behind because the gang was surprised while robbing the express office. I see. I know I've been all kinds of a fool, but I didn't want to be one of the gang. You got to believe me. I wish I could, but your father's sake... Oh, it's true. It ran up a large gambling debt and Steve Laskin's cafe. Dad's always been dead set against gambling and I'd promised I'd never bet. He said if I brought him certain information he'd cancel the debt. What kind of information? Tips as to when certain companies had a lot of cash on hand. You know I could find out through Dad. He made me a part of his crooked scheme so I'd have to go along with the gang. I'll go to jail. Outlaw plenty smart. It was smart, all right. And I was dumb. Too dumb to see until too late that Steve was pushing me in a bigger mess than I already was. I tried everywhere I knew to break with him, but I couldn't. No, information was all they wanted from me. Kip, I'm going to give you a chance to redeem yourself. You mean... With your help we can capture the gang. Oh, I'll do anything you say. All right, come on. Where are we going? We're going to talk to your father, Kip. I want him to hear my plan, too. Come on, Silver. Get him up. Get up, boy. Get up. The next day, Kip Mortimer went into the back room of the Ten Strike Cafe. Steve Lasker and Duke were waiting. I've been waiting for you, Kip. Where have you been? I've been with my father at the bank. Got any new tips? Yeah, we could use some fresh information. The boys are getting restless. They carried away so much cash, some of the express job yesterday. They're hankered for action again, pronto. I got a message for you, Steve. Message? Who from? My father. I don't savvy. Neither do I. You haven't been up to any tricks, have you, Kip? Oh, of course not. My dad just asked me to deliver a message to Steve. Let's have it. Well, he heard about you being elected chief of the vigilantes last night. Go on. What's the rest? Well, he doesn't have confidence in his sheriff after the express robbery yesterday. He ain't the only one. Poor Missouri's out in a limb. Before I'm through, I'll cut it out from under him. My father's anxious for you and your vigilantes to stand guard over a shipment of gold at the bank tonight, Steve. What? You ain't of a mind to play a practical joke on us, are you, Kip? Oh, no. How much is the gold worth? $30,000. It was just shipped in from the mines today. Your father warns us to watch over it? Well, yes. He plans to express it to the bank in Powder City tomorrow. Well, it'll be safer, but with all the robberies that have been in trigger bend, he's afraid the outlaws will find out about the bullion tonight. And he's afraid to trust the sheriff to guard it, if that ain't rich. He spells a secret to the outlaws instead. And gets his son to deliver the message. Hey, wait a minute. Huh? That gold's stolen. Your father'll be out $30,000, won't he, Kip? I reckon he will. Do you expect us to believe that you'd let that happen instead of exposing us to your palm, the sheriff? Yeah. What about that? Well, I can't expose you without exposing myself. Sure. Kip's a smart lad. He thinks more of his freedom than his pa's $30,000. Nothing wrong about that, is it, Duke? Well, we won't know tonight. Could be a trick. Well, just in case, we'll give Kip a chance to change his story. Because we're taking him with us to the bank tonight. And at the first wrong move, we'll drill him. That's the ticket. Well, my father, he'll recognize me. We'll give you a mask to wear. Come back to your pa and tell him the vigilante's will take over guard duty after dark tonight. I'll tell him. Don't forget to come back. Putting you in front tonight, where we can keep an eye on you. Oh, Kip. Did your dad tell anyone else he was sending for the vigilante's to watch over the gold? No. Good. Now get out of here. Duke, you heard what the kid said. About him and his pa being the only ones who know the vigilante's are standing guard? Yeah. It'd be a might embarrassing for me to explain to the banker how the bullion was stolen with the vigilante's watching. All right, Savvy. I want the banker put away, huh? And Kip, too. There'll be no good to us after that. I'll drill them both. There was a bustle of activity at the Lazy J Ranch. Seated importantly at a table in the parlor while Mustang Mag watched with evident disgust. Missouri swore in his deputies the ranchers and townsmen who filed before him. Finally, the last one left. And Mustang Mag surveyed the sheriff with her hands on her hips. I've got important business to tend to. I've got to post them deputies to make sure Steve Lasker and his gang don't get away. Steve Lasker, huh? So he's your secret. Oh, dead rat you for a metin' female. You tricked me into saying that. Oh, Savvy, we're in Missouri. You'll need it to swear me in as deputy. Swear you in as... Have you gone local? No, I ain't. I never did like that no-con saloon keeper and I'd just as leave settled scores with him as all their momeries you had out there. Oh, gone and mad. You're a woman. Women ain't... Oh, shut your mouth, you old coot. I can handle a six-gun same as any man. Except an old Ranger. And just in case you need persuading, I'm getting that same right now. What? Do I get to be a deputy or don't I? Man, put down that gun. It might go off. Talk fast, Missouri. All right, all right, you win. Dead rat you for the most cantankerous female I ever met. That night, several hard-faced men wearing six-guns hung low in the habit of outlaws took up positions near the bank in the darkening shadows. Then a small group led by Steve Lasker and Duke went up to the door, thrusting Kip Mortimer, now masked before them. You're the vigilantes? We came to take care of the gold. Let me go. I don't understand. You'll learn as we go along, either way to the gold. Steve Lasker, you're not vigilantes. You're outlaws. Take them back, boys. All right, Mortimer, show us the yellow dust and make it fast. No. That gold isn't mine. With Stalin, we ain't playing games. It's in there. Give us the key. If I can remember where I put it. There'll be plenty unhealthy for you if you forget. I have it. Now if you'll just let me. Watch him, Duke. I might try and reach you for a gun. I wish he would. I ain't fired this shootin' iron since it was clean. Fan out, boys. Keep your eyes peeled. All right, what's the matter with you? The key is there's a knife. The keys. There's so many of them. I have a hard time remembering which is which. Well, try concentrating real hard, Mortimer. Because if you don't, then keys won't mean a thing to you. I have it now. Which is the gold? The box and back. $30,000. Now give a hand with that bullion, boys. The box is heavy enough to contain a whole gold mine. Let me break open the lid. Let's have a look at this stuff. Yeah, I want to... Duke, huh? This ain't gold. It's rocks wrapped in paper. Rocks? We've been tricked, Steve. Where's Kepp? The dirty double-crosser. There he is. Let him have it. Got those guns. What's that behind us? It's a lone-rage of riddles. Get that mask, man. Oh, my harm. Wings me. Don't try that again. Get her, boys. It's a trap, Duke. The rapeless Malteside, too. Cross that mask, hungry boys. You ask what? You get ready. Steve, brother. Why the low-down skunk? He's gone. Skip. Take care of Duke, Toto. Me take him. Unaware that the lone ranger was in pursuit, Steve Lasker raced through the bank to the street and made his way to the back room of the 10-strike café. He quickly let the lamp and went to the safe where he kept his stolen loot. Blast him. They won't take me. I'll get clean out of the state and take these valuables with me. Leave them crickets and cash where they are, you mangy coyote. What the? You are a crook. I just wish you'd make a wrong move so I could give you a taste of hot lead from this soup knife. Hiya. Stop your mouth about Missouri being sheriff and up to your neck in crookedness all the time he was preaching law and order. Why, you double-dealing bullcat, I don't mind having a go at you with my bare hands. That won't be necessary, man. Man, what are you doing here? Dad, ratted, I thought I told you to stay and keep an eye on the jail. Well, you darn fool, who wants to run away with the jail? I'm taking you in for murder, Steve, you back-shootin' skunk. We're taking him in, Missouri. He's my prisoner, too. Near the corral of the Lazy J Ranch, a masked man and an Indian sat astride their horses and watched a fiery, silvery-white cold plunge and pitch with young Dan Reed on his back. For two days, the lad had devoted all his attention to his new horse, determined to show the low-enrager in Tonto that he could not only stay in the cold saddle, but control him as well. Now, once again, he was gamely attempting to master the son of Silver and prove that he was ready to ride. Stay with him, Dan. Ah, you ride fine. I think I'm beginning to get the hang of it. Bring his head down. Ah, rain in. Oh, God. Toss me again. Cold win again. Him still, Victor. Well, ride him yet. I'm sure you will, Dan. Come on, Silver. Get him up, Skunk! Well, Silver! Hooray! Third is a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated.