 A fiery horse with a speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty hyosilver, the Lone Ranger. Before this exciting adventure, a word from our sponsor. General Mills, makers of Cheerios, the ready-to-eat oat cereal that gives you go-power, and Wheaties, the breakfast of champions, present by special recording, the Lone Ranger. All over the country in every direction, how you do it is a question, and here's what the happy people have to say. People are Wheaties, and do-do-do-do-do-do, an okay old cage. Hi there. This is the Lone Ranger speaking. Out here in the west, we have a couple of champions who are really doing okay. Champion Bob Maynard. He can grab a thousand-pound steer by the horns and toss it to the ground like it was a three-day-old calf. And bronc-busting champ Bob Burroughs. The way he can stick on a mean, side-winding bronc, you'd think he was glued to the saddle. They're both great rodeo champions, and both eat Wheaties. Have been ever since they were youngsters. That's a good example to follow. Keep falling through your Wheaties, and you'll be do-do-do-do, an okay old cage. With his faithful Indian companion, Tuttle, the daring and resourceful mask writer of the plains 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. 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 go, people. Are you Silver? Hurry! Young Jeff Austin stood at the door of his cell in the Fortune County jail. So hard was his grip on the bar that his fingers had turned white. His teeth were set, and sweat streaked his forehead. The barred pattern of sunlight which fell on the cell floor had moved its center. His last 24 hours had started. He was living his last afternoon. How's it going, Jeff? Howdy, Chef. Head pounded. That's heavy, boy. We shouldn't have to hear it. Have you heard anything? Just got a telegram from the governor himself. He'll give you a stay of execution if you'll talk. If I talk? Between you and me, he'll do more than that for you. Though he can't come right out and say it. You can save your neck, maybe even go scout-free. I've got nothing to say except what I've said a hundred times already. How many? Well, I gotta go back to the office. But if you change your mind, sing out. The governor's secretary will be standing by for word from me till the last minute. There won't be any word. As Jeff and the sheriff finished their conversation, the lone ranger and tonto turned their horses off the trail to Fortune City and headed north along the steep banks of the Tomahawk River. They were in search of a camping place. Suddenly, tonto pointed. Look, Kimus, happy. Horse up ahead. There's a side saddle on it. Ah, must be woman round here. Oh, there's a hole. I've got that horse's range, tonto. I've got a pair of passes of the saddle. Steady silver, easy. Ah, I've got the paper. What's on it? It's addressed to the sheriff at Fortune City and says, he will find my body in the Tomahawk River. Don't tell Jeff. Amy Benton. It's a suicide note. Horse, not stand here long. We may still have time to save her. Come on, tonto. There she is. Stop. Amy Benton, stop. The horses braced their legs and skidded to a stop. The lone ranger dropped from his saddle to the edge of the bank and dived into the river. A few moments later, the girl had been hoisted to the top of the bank. Presently, she was gasping and coughing. Her eyes opened, but she said nothing. Neither did the masked man speak to her until she had been placed in a blanket beside a fire and tonto had prepared coffee. As she drank, he said, Miss Benton, you don't seem concerned over my mask. I'm not. I don't care who or what you are. Why did you save me? I always save a life if I can. There's one you can't save. Suppose you tell us your troubles. You'll feel better if you get them off your mind. Yes, maybe I would. It's possible that my friend and I can help you. Oh, if you only could, I... It's too late. Tomorrow they're going to... going to hang Jeff. Well, what did Jeff do? Nothing. Nothing at all. He's innocent. And I put him where he is. How did that happen? Jeff and I were engaged to be married. I was working in the Wells Fargo Bank in Fortune City. Then... Yes, Miss? The bank got a lot of gold ready to ship out. Usually, the shipments were made by stage, but because there'd been a lot of robberies, Mr. Quincy, the Wells Fargo agent, decided to send an empty box on the stage and ship out the gold in a freight wagon. I see. Mr. Quincy and I were the only ones who knew about the arrangement until I told Jeff. I never kept anything from him. Was the gold stolen? Yes. A gang of outlaws let the stage go by and held up the freighter. The driver was killed. That makes it certain that they had inside information. Oh, uh, what makes you so sure Jeff is innocent? What makes me trust a mask man? Call it a woman's intuition, but I know. I know. I'd like to know more about Jeff. Jeff? He was big-hearted and gentle. He and the younger brother Jim were orphaned years ago, but he was father and mother both to Jim. Why, there's nothing he wouldn't do for the kid brother, as he calls him. Where did Jeff work? He was top-hand at the X-7 Ranch. Jim works on the consolidated cattle company spread. Who was Jeff's lawyer? Monty Baldwin. Or he bought hard to save Jeff. I've heard of Baldwin. He's a good criminal lawyer, but his fees are very high. I gave him what money I had, $200. Well, where do you live? I've been rooming at the Empire Hotel. My home is in the east. All right, we'll see you at the edge of town. And I want you to go to the hotel and wait. We may need your help, in which case my friend will call for you. Yes, I understand. What are you going to do? Well, Tony'll gather information around town. I'll slip into Baldwin's office for a talk. Monty Baldwin was alone in his law office. He sat in an easy chair with his eyes closed, feeling sorry for himself. For the first time in his career, he had lost a murder case. He sighed gustily, opened his eyes, men sat bold upright as the back door opened silently and the lone ranger stepped into the room. A masked man. Daddy, Mr. Baldwin, just keep your hand away from that derringer in your vest pocket. Don't shoot me. I did the best I could for Jeff. I'm not interested in what you did. I want to know who paid you and how much you received for defending him. You want to know what you belong to the gang Jeff was in? I'm not an outlaw. My purpose is to see that justice is done. It was done in his case. He was guilty and deserved the death sentence. Of course, it puts a blot on my record. You haven't answered my question. I don't intend to. Now you've got that derringer. Don't hit me again. I dropped it. And I'm kicking you into a corner. There. You'll pay for this. Are you going to tell me what I want to know? Yes. Yes, I'll tell. I received a small retainer from Miss Benton. The rest I... Go on. The rest was paid by Jeff's brother, Jim. It was a matter of $3,000. Didn't it strike you as strange that a ranch hand could raise that much money? I thought Jeff had told him where to dig it up. In other words, you thought it was part of the loot of the Wells Fargo box. I don't question the source of my client's money. They're all criminals. Never mind that. Where is Jim Austin now? He was still with the consolidated cattle people a few days ago. That's all I wanted to know. Jim Austin was sprawled on a bunk in the sleeping quarters of the cattle company's riders. His weekly handsome, almost effeminate face was haggard. His long, lashed eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. As he stared at a battered clock on the wall, the door opened. The foreman's voice boomed through the bunkhouse. Jim, there's a young lady here to see you. All right. I'm coming. Be right out, Miss. Jim. Oh, it's you, Amy. I thought some seniorito was calling me. I want to talk to you about what we won't be heard. About Jeff? Yes. And come on, we'll take a walk down toward the water tank. Kim, you were in that Wells Fargo holdup. Huh? You're letting Jeff hang for something you did. Amy, your local. Jeff passed you the information about the gold shipment. Just like I passed it to him. He trusted you and you betrayed him. Did Jeff tell you that? I'm not saying who told me, but I'll tell you this. You've got to keep Jeff from hanging. What can I do? Get your gang together and work out something. I haven't got any gang. Do you know that Jeff can save himself by talking? He wouldn't. Wouldn't tell on you? Is that what you intended to say? I'm not saying anything more. Well, I am, but it's my last word. The sheriff will know about you in the morning if you don't do so. Now, wait, Amy. I'll wait in town. Crossing a wide yard between the ranch buildings, Amy joined a lone ranger in the shadows of the shed. She reported. I did just what you told me to do. How did he act? He's not only guilty, he's conscience-stricken and scared. Kim, sorry. Yes? He watched that fellow go into corral. Him get ready to ride. All right. You take Miss Betten back to town. I'll follow him. Miss Betten needs you more. Her life is in danger. Unaware that the lone ranger was on his trail, Jim Austin rode directly to one of the most remote line camps on the vast spread. Used only in winter by consolidated riders, the dugout had been taken over by four men who had been fired by the cattle company on suspicion of rustling. Their leader was an ex-formin known as Top. The quartet was playing cards on a candlelit table when Jim burst through the door. What the place is, Jim? Topper in for it. What do you mean? Jeff's girl come to see me. She's just as good as said he's going to talk unless we save him. All he can say is that he told you about the gold. That'll be plenty. They'll have me and go looking for the fellas I run with. That means you boys. Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right. We got to break Jeff out of jail tonight. Just one way to make sure nobody talks. Don't Jeff's girl live in the hotel? Yeah, but- And the hotel windows look right down into the jail. There's a day and night guard on Jeff, so there'll be enough light in his cell to make him a good target. What are you getting at? Instead of raiding the jail, we'll raid the hotel. We'll shoot the girl in her room and Jeff in his cell. We'll continue our lone ranger adventure in just a moment. Fox are bent by tart and fair, so in the ring you kids beware. He's dynamite because he knows. He's got gold power from Cheerios. Yes, he's got gold power. There he goes. He's feeling his Cheerios. Cheerios. Cheerios. Cheerios, the cereal everybody loves. No other cereal looks like Cheerios. It's shaped like little letter O's. No other cereal tastes like Cheerios. It's the only ready to eat cereal with this fresh toasted oat flavor. No other cereal is like Cheerios. You see, Cheerios is made from oats. And every delicious spoonful of Cheerios and milk is real muscle building food. Each spoonful contains vitamins, minerals and proteins your body needs. Yes, the good things in a Cheerios breakfast do good things for your body. Help you have healthy nerves, good red blood, strong bones and muscles. Have Cheerios every morning. Then you'll hear people say... He's feeling his Cheerios. Cheerios. Now to continue. Hearing that Jeff Austin would talk before he went to the Gallows, the outlaw gang of which his younger brother Jim was a member planned to shoot him in his cell and murder his sweetheart Amy Benton. Meanwhile, the lone ranger had been standing on the roof of the dugout, his head bent over the chimney. Funneled upward through an empty fireplace, every word spoken by the bandits had reached his ears. As he continued to listen, he heard Jim protest. At that moment, the lone ranger shifted his weight. The sod gave way. Then he was falling. Falling straight down into the lair of the murderous gang, the bandits jumped back with startled cries. Top was the first to recover. He jammed the gun against the lone ranger's back before he could free himself from the debris. I'm getting his guns. I got him. Stand up if you can. I can stand. Look, he's got a mask on. What were you doing on the roof, fella? What do you think? We're spying on us. You're either on our hood who was after our bootle or some kind of Wells Fargo detective. I'm neither. Whatever you are now, you'll only be one thing in a minute. Meet for the coyotes. Jim, take his mask off. Hold on, Jim Austin. You know me. I want to help, Jeff. He's innocent. Jim, I told you to take off his mask. All right. Quick, grab back your guns. As the masked man snatched back the guns, which Jim had thrust under his belt, the young bandit pretended to spuggle with it. Help, he's got his guns again. A roost kept hopp from firing for a moment, but only a moment. Then the gang leaders cold blazed. Oh, I'm hit. You shut Jim. Love your guns, all of you. I'll drop you. Here's right gun on a candle, which had been stuck into a bottle on a shelf. Shut out the candle. Hold your fire. We'll hit each other. Let's get outside. Up we were. Recreating to a line of rocks, a few yards from the dugout door, the bandits laid siege to the place. You watch that whole room. Let's keep public led to the doorway. He got his cornered mask, man. I may still be away out here. How bad are you hurt? Oh, not bad. Not bad at all. Let's save Jeffs. Throughout the remainder of the night, the siege continued with intermittent bursts of gunfire waking echoes in the nearby valley. Then as a late dawn stretched a gray ribbon above the eastern mountain peaks, Jim broke along silence. All right. Let's get mighty close in here. It's hard to breathe. My legs feel filled up. Jim, you were shot in the chest. Why didn't you tell me? It's better this way. It was a fool. I never would listen to Jeff. Tell Jeff. Tell Jeff I'm dead. For a moment, the lone ranger knelt beside the young outlaw's body, motionless and silent. Then he removed his knacker-chief and tore a piece from it, taping it into a semblance of his own mask. He blackened the cloth at the sooty fireplace and gently covered the upper part of the face. What seemed to have grown strangely strong in death. Beside Jim's head, he dropped his own white hat. Then he flattened himself against the wall close to the doorway. Long minutes passed. And then... I'll tell you that, Matt, man's dead. Look how he sprawled out. He might be playing pasta. No. Look at his shirt. He got one through the chest. Yeah, he's dead, all right. Now let's get inside and find our medical kit. My shoulder's killing me. I don't see Jim. And likely the double crosser ran out with us and then sneaked away. Tom, this isn't a masked man. It's Jim. Get your hands up. That's only a warning. Up with your hand. We're reaching. I'll lie down on the floor. Keep your arms stretched out in front of you. I can't, my shoulder. Just harming the outlaws, the masked man called to Silver. Hey, Silver! Hey, boy! A big white horse who had been left standing some distance from the dugout trotted up. Cutting pieces from his lariat, which hung from the saddle, the lone ranger bound each of the bandits securely. He glanced at his watch. It was eight o'clock. Only four hours of life remained for Jeff Austin and Fortune's city lay far away. So far that even the gallant Silver might fail to carry him through in time. He leaped to the saddle. Get out of here! As the brave horse responded to the masked man's voice, the sheriff approached Jeff's cell. Jeff, your girl is out in the office. Don't torture me. You know I can't face Amy. Your time's running out fast, but there's still hold the wire open to the governor. If you want to talk... Sure I'll talk. I plan to hold up. I led the gang. Tell the governor that. Sheriff back. I hate to say this, but he confessed. Confessed? No, it's not good for you to stay here, Miss. You come with me. We watched Crale for my friends. Yes. Yes, let's go. It was five minutes to 12 when the lone ranger urged Silver to a hilltop from which the town could be seen. That's to be called faster! Real the last mile! Jeff Austin, too, was on his last mile. The sheriff, a parson, the sentencing judge, and the elegant Mr. Smith had escorted him from his cell to the jail yard. Well, here we are, Jeff. Got anything to see? Nothing that anybody'd understand. Hurry and get it over. It's now noon. Are you ready, Mr. Smith? What's going on out there? Somebody's riding into the yard. It's a mask man. They did the execution, Sheriff. What's the meaning of this interruption? Who are you? What does that mask mean? I haven't time for explanations now. Release Jeff Austin. He's innocent. He just confessed. He tried to sacrifice himself for his brother Jim, but Jim is dead. The rest of the Wells Fargo killers have been captured. Consolidated writers are bringing them in. That may be true, but this execution is legally without an order from the governor. Proceed, Sheriff. That's the law. I'm proceeding to break the law. Mr. Smith, take the rope off that man. There isn't going to be any hand. A few hours later, Jeff stood in the jail office with an arm around Amy's shoulders. He was a free man. The consolidated writers had delivered the captured outlaws to the sheriff and full confessions were on record. The sheriff was saying... Jeff, you must have thought a powerful lot of that no-good brother of yours. Jim always came first with me. He wasn't bad. Not all bad, anyhow. He died better than he lived, Jeff. He was a man at the end. Masked man. You got a right smart reward coming from the Wells Fargo Company. Give it to Jeff and Miss Benton for a wedding. He's gone. And we didn't even get a chance to thank him for all he did. He sure did plenty. Who do you reckon he is? Oh, the Indian told me... He's the Lone Ranger. I'll tell you where... The Lone Ranger, a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated, is produced by Trenville Campbell Muir Incorporated. The part of the Lone Ranger is played by Brace Beamer, your announcer, Fred Toy. Listen to the Lone Ranger brought to you a special recording Mondays through Fridays at this same time.