 Speed of light, a cloud of dust and a hardy high of silver, the lone ranger. With his faithful Indian companion Tonto, the masked rider of the planes 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. Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear. From out of the past in the thundering hoofbeats of the great horse Silver, the lone ranger rides again. Come on, silver! Let's go, big toe! I will silver! No one paid any attention to the nondescript old desert ride who spent most of the evening sitting near the stove in the corner of the cafe. Once in the course of the evening, the sheriff glanced in the old man's direction, then turned back to his friends. Little did the lawman suspect that murder waited near the cafe. The old unknown individual strolled through the swinging doors past the hitch rack and down the road. He looked neither to the right nor left. He didn't hear the killer who crap up behind him, raised a knife, then stabbed. The desert rat was dead without uttering a sound. Damn, knife in the back. Sheriff, he's got something clutched in his hand. Open the hand and see what it is. Right. Hold that light closer. Yeah. Yeah. Here you are. What is it? A bullet. Bullet? Let me see it. Curious looking bullet too, Sheriff. Put that light over here. Yeah. This here bullet looks like... Yeah, by thunder it's silver. It's silver. Hey, Sheriff, there was a man around town last week. He used silver bullets. I remember seeing one of them. Me too. Who was he? Does anyone know that man? No. I'll wait until that old Missouri knows him. Missouri? You mean Mustang Mag's hired man? Yeah, Sheriff. Missouri came into my jewelry store with a silver bullet. He wanted drills so he could wear it in his watch chain. Then we'll question Missouri. Send word that I want to see him as fast as he can get to town. Mustang Mag and her hired man known as Missouri were friends of the Lone Ranger. It was a few days after one of the mask man's unexpected visits when Sheriff Conway sent word that he wanted to see Missouri in his office. The old man left the ranch as soon as possible and headed for town. Mustang Mag went with him. Taking along with me like I was a six-year-old. Six a life, Mag, or you appeared to crush me in town by myself? Yes. Well, I bet... What'd you say? The last time you came to town it was a week before you got back to the ranch. Well, that weren't my fault, Mag. I was in jail. That's just the point. Sheriff asked you a few questions about some cattle stealing and then you got so all fired and mixed up that he thought you was the thief. Well, he learned his mistake. Oh, go on if, Mag. I was a sheriff myself at one time. I can take care of myself with him. Missouri, you've grumbled all the way from the ranch and I've heard about all I want to hear. Now shut up. Put Mag. I'm going into the sheriff's office with you. That's it. But, Mag, there's another thing. The little ranger left Dan Reed at the ranch. We promised to take care of the boy until the masked man came back for him. Well, what about it? He's all alone at the ranch. I'd sooner trust him alone at the ranch than you alone in town. Oh, go on. I ought to resent that. And you just try resenting anything I say. I don't know why it tolerates such insult and remark. Are you going to stop at the sheriff's office, Missouri, or keep right on going into the next county? Uh-oh, girlie. Oh, there. Oh, boy. Oh, up there. Whoa. Oh, it's always hard for you to stop short of the cafe, ain't it, Missouri? Mag, why don't you wait right here on the wagon? I won't be gone long. Step down, Missouri. Oh, hang it all. The horses ain't likely to need me. You are. Now get out of the way so I can get down. No one's going in show after another. And now remember this, Missouri. If the sheriff asks questions, just answer him straight. I know. Don't go sidewinding on a lot of personal opinions. Now open the door. Well, glad to see you, Missouri. Howdy, Sheriff. And Mustang Mag. Hi, Sheriff. I guess you know Mr. Marsden, the jeweler, don't you? Oh, sure thing. How are you, Mr. Marsden? How do you do? Howdy, Marsden. How's Henry Green's you're doing these days? Quite well. Are you and Granger still partners in the jewelry store? Yes, of course. Here's the chair, Mag. Sit down there, Missouri. This better be important, Sheriff. Missouri had to leave a lot of work to come here. It is important, Mag. Missouri may be able to help me. Well, I'm glad to do what I can, Sheriff. Take a look at this bullet, Missouri. Cracky. Mr. Marsden has examined it. He says it's solid silver. Yeah, let me see that. A silver bullet, Mag. Mr. Marsden said you had one just like it, Missouri. I sure did. Got it back at the ranch. Took it in the jewelry store. Sometime ago to have a hole drilled in it. So I could wear it on my watch chain. Yes, that's what I told the Sheriff. Well, what about it, Sheriff? Tell me about the man who gave you the bullet, Missouri. What did he look like? Well, he's tall and broad-shouldered. And he always wears a mask, doesn't he? I ain't never seen him without one. And two guns? Sheriff, he's got two of the fastest shooting irons in the world. Hmm. Now tell me this, Missouri. Does he use a knife as well as guns? A knife? Now hold on a minute. What's back of these questions, Sheriff Conway? It's official, Mag. Official or not? Why are you asking questions? Where'd you get this silver bullet? No, Mag. The Sheriff's want to ask questions. I'm asking the questions now. Well, Mag. Shut up, Missouri. Give out, Conway. Missouri won't open its face again unless we know why you're asking questions about the mask, man. All right, Mag. I'll let you have it. This silver bullet was found in the hand of an old desert rat. Go on. He was found at the edge of town. He'd been stabbed to death sometime last night. Stabbed to death? Great day. The silver bullets are our only clue. I'd say it's a very good clue. Unless this masked man has an alibi. He didn't do it. He didn't kill anyone. Why, he's a friend of yours, isn't he, Missouri? Sure he is. Then you must know where we can find him. Now wait a minute. Missouri don't know. I do too. Shut up. Mag, you keep out of this. Like thunder, I will. Missouri, you keep still. You've got nothing more to say. Are you telling Missouri to obstruct justice? I'm telling Missouri to keep his trap shut. But, Mag, if we wish just to tell the sheriff who the masked man is. That's it, Missouri. Missouri don't know who the masked man is. Mag, you can't found it over. Missouri couldn't give you the name if he wanted to. Could you, Missouri? Well, I... No, Mag. But... But you do know something and you're holding it back. Missouri, you'll talk now or cool off in jail until you're ready to talk. Sheriff, you wouldn't jail me. Missouri, Mr. Marsden knows the law. He'll tell you that she can be jailed for obstructing justice. Yes, you... you might be charged with murder. Murder? That's right, Missouri. An accessory after the fact. You see, Missouri, Mr. Marsden knows the law. Well, he may know the law, but he don't know Missouri. Mag, if you don't keep... Let him tell you, Missouri. But you keep still. If you so much as open your face, I'll make you the sorryest critter that ever drawed breath. Mustang Mag lashed her team at breakneck speed when she left Missouri in the sheriff's hands. As she approached her ranch, Dan read new that something was wrong. It was the bar in a meter. Whoa! Whoa, there! Whoa, you bear! Well, you drove that team hard. What's wrong? All kinds of trouble, including murder. Murder? They think our friend is a killer, Dan. Not the lone range. Oh, they don't know who he is. All they know is that his Missouri's friend and he wears a mask and uses silver bullets. There was a silver bullet in the dead man's hand. Oh, God. Here it is. The sheriff forgot I had it, so I brought it with me. What about Missouri? Oh, he's in jail. Jail? For what? Oh, because I wouldn't let him talk about the mask, man. Dan, can you locate the lone ranger? Well, you want to visit a ranch in the next county. He expects to be back here in a day or two. Oh, he's got to get back before that. Anyway, he's an ambitious sheriff. He wants to solve the murder quick. I have pinned it on Missouri if he can't find the real murderer in a hurry. I'll go after the lone ranger. Come on, I'll help you, Sadie. While Dan prepared for the long hard ride, Mustang Mag told what she knew of the murder. And Dan tells the lone ranger that he's got to be careful. He's likely to be shot on sight. I'll tell him. Steady to fix this. And telling that Mr. Marsden, the jeweler, the one that got Missouri involved, he remembered that Missouri had a silver bullet. Now, can you remember all I've told you? You bet I can. Then get going, lad. Get the lone ranger. All right. Steady, boy. Come on, Victor. The lone ranger in Tonto had made their camp on a former site, the location of which was known to Dan Reid. It was late afternoon when the thunder of approaching hoof beats brought the masked man and his Indian companion to their feet. Dan, can you... Hold on, Victor. Hold on. Hold on. What's the matter, Dan? Mustang mag sent me. Missouri's in jail. The horse is ready, Tonto. Tell me about it, Dan. Some time ago, you gave Missouri a silver bullet as a souvenir. What about it? He took it to the jeweler's, Marsden and Granger, and had a hole drilled in it so he could wear it on his watch. That's how he happened to get involved. Involved in what? A murder. A man was killed. There was a silver bullet in his hand. Mr. Marsden remembered that Missouri had a friend who used silver bullets. So the sheriff questioned Missouri. Why is Missouri in jail? Because he wouldn't tell anything about you. Mustang mag says the sheriff will pin the murder on Missouri unless we do something. Dan, you've written hard. Don't try to keep pace with us. We'll be too much for Victor. All right. The gun's over already. Just a minute. There's something else. Yes? Here. This is the bullet they found in the dead man's hand. How did you get this? Mustang mag got it. This bullet is a... What about it? Right up, Tonto. Huh? Dan, I'll meet you later. Wait for us at Mustang Mag. Is that a big fella? Right. Come on, Tonto. Get him up. It was long after dark when the lone ranger and Tonto reached town and ground hitched their horses in the darkness behind the jail. While Tonto moved silently toward the entrance to make sure the guard didn't interfere, the masked man crept to the barred window. Missouri. Missouri, come to the window. Oh, my sex alive. Why'd you come here? I want to know more about the murder. Does anyone know the dead man? Nope. You look like a desert rat. No, never. Well, now you know. But you've got to clear out. You'll be shot on sight. Now find a whole belt full of silver cartridges to prove you killed the critter. What about you? Well, never mind me. You just clear out and save yourself. Sheriff Conway's bound and he... Oh, wait a minute. Tonto's coming. I came to find you. You've come this way. See God adored jail. What about the guard? He'm dead. Oh, my sex alive. And silver bullet in his hand. Another one. I'll see you soon, Missouri. How was he killed, Tonto? Knife. Him get knife. Wait. Tonto come this way. Wait right here at the corner of the jail. One of those men is Sheriff Conway. I know his walk. We'll see what he says when he discovers the dead guard near the door. You're a good lawyer, Turnbull. Maybe you can convince Missouri that he'll be smart to tell what he knows. I've convinced him, the old fool. Now show me. It's likely to get his neck stretched if he doesn't talk. He didn't listen to you. I thought you said you had a guard at the door. Oh, he's around somewhere. It looks like he's not here. Looks like someone's on the ground. Maybe your guard's sleeping. If he is a Pete. Is that your guard? Yes. A lazy good for nothing. Pete, wake up you. Wake. Wake up. Turnbull. What's the matter, Sheriff? Pete's dead. Dead. Are you sure? See for yourself. Should I light a match? The moon's bright enough. He's been knifed. Killed the same way as the desert rat was. Yes, Sheriff. There's something in his hand. I'll get it. A bullet. I wonder if it's like the first. Now Missouri's got to talk. That masked friend of his must be right here in town. You're right, Sheriff. What a masked man. I'm the one who gave Missouri a silver bullet. Then you're the man I want. You're under arrest for murder. The curtain falls on the first act of our Lone Ranger story. Before the next exciting scenes, please remember to pause for just a few moments. Now to continue our story. When death struck the second time, the guard at the jail was the victim. The sheriff and lawyer Turnbull had just discovered a silver bullet in the dead guard's hand when the Lone Ranger stepped forward. The sheriff, recovering from his surprise, said, You're under arrest for murder. Sheriff, you don't arrest a man who has a drop on you. You open that door and go inside with his more light. You too, Turnbull. You know me? Sheriff, use your name. Well, Sheriff, did you hear me? The door. All right, all right, but you won't get far. Take the dead man inside, Turnbull. Quickly. You needn't ran that gun through my side. I'm taking them in. I suppose Turnbull and I are to be number three and four on your murder list, huh? I've never started a list. Close the door. Hey, how about getting me out of this stall? Just a minute, Missouri. You've got the drop on us now. Sheriff, you suspected me of murder because of a silver bullet. Well, it's evidence. You found another bullet in the guard's hand. I did. I got it right here. Put it on that table. There. Here is a cartridge for my belt. Try the silver bullet from that cartridge and you'll find it's just like the one I gave Missouri. On the other hand, you'll find it's quite different than the bullets you took from the dead men. You see, Sheriff, I tried to tell you my friend had nothing to do with the cannon. You keep still. I looked them over. You can easily see the difference. They are different, Sheriff Conway. They came from different molds. You might have two different molds. The silver in one of those bullets is of the finest grade. The kind that jewelers use. Jewelers? Sheriff, you can get there. Missouri, you keep still. I'll be hanged if I'll keep still. Marsden's a jeweler. He could have made them silver bullets. Who else is there around here that handles silver? Missouri, I... You can't trust me up. I'll have my say. Marsden's a guilty one. Marsden's tried to put the blame on my friend. Conway, I wonder if Marsden did kill that desigrat. He'd have to have a motive. You know of anyone Marsden wants out of the way? Yes, I do. We don't want your opinion, Missouri. Oh, yes, we do, Sheriff. Speak up, Missouri. Sir, if you think you're going to run... While I hold the guns, I'll give the orders. What do you know, Missouri? I'll tell you what I know. I know that Marsden and old Henry Granger don't get along none too well. I know that Marsden liked to get Granger out of the jewelry business so he could own it alone. You old fool, you don't talk sense. We're looking for a motive for the murder of an unknown desert rat in the prison guard. Not Henry Granger. He ain't dead. Sheriff, is Missouri right? About what? Marsden and Granger? Well, I guess so. And I can testify that he is. If Granger had been killed, there'd be ample reason to suspect Marsden of the murder. The partners have an agreement. If one dies, the other gets the business. Marsden wouldn't kill Granger. How do you know, Sheriff? Why should he? Granger's an old man. He's only got a few more years. Marsden will soon be the owner without resorting to murder. Well, don't you forget that Mars made a slick deal to get half-infused in that store. He'll pull another slick deal to get the other half. If he can get away with it. Sheriff, do you still think I'm the murderer? Well, I guess not. I'm sure you're not. But you did think so. I had reason to until you showed me the bullets. You'd still think so if I hadn't come here. Yes, I did. And if Granger was murdered, you'd suspect me. Granger? You wouldn't suspect Marsden. Isn't it possible that Marsden killed two men to cover the murder of the third? Sheriff, he's right. But Granger wasn't killed. How do we know? We'd better get over to his place right away. How about watching Marsden? We'll watch Granger. His place is nearest. Come on, turn over. Oh, wait a minute. Put those guns down. These are the keys to the cell. The keys? You've no reason to hold Missouri now. Give them the keys, Conway. Hurry. We've got to see about old Henry. Here, take the keys. Thanks. Come on, turn over. I'm with you. Let me out of this kind of sand jail. One minute, Missouri. I'll burn it all out late. Ten to one, you're right about Marsden. There you are. Where does Marsden live? We, the other end of town. It's a big stone house. You can't miss it. Come on outside. Conway will be nearby. There he comes, bringing up your horse. Thanks. Now you stay with Missouri. I'm going to call on Marsden. Hey, wait a minute. I was once a sheriff. How about me going to Marsden's place with you? No, no, Missouri. As long as the sheriff chose to go to Granger's house, I want to call on Marsden alone. I want to talk to him unofficially. Is that a big fella? Come on, sit there. After leaving the jail, the sheriff and Turnbull mounted their horses and rode the short distance to Granger's place. In a few minutes, they rode up and dismounted at his door. Well, here we are, Turnbull. Hope the masked man, Missouri, are wrong and suspecting Marsden. I'm hoping old Henry Granger hasn't been murdered already. We'll soon find out. Come on. If he is there, he's taking his time about coming to the door. Maybe we better force our way and see if he's all right. Well, there he comes now. Well, who is it? What do you want? It's me and Mr. Turnbull, Henry. We want to have a talk with you. Oh, oh, it's you, Sheriff. Come right on in. Both of you. Now, have a chair. Make yourselves comfortable. Thanks, Henry. Yeah, we're glad to see you're all right, Henry. All right. What do you mean by that? Turnbull's talking about those killings. You see, we came over to guard you, sort of, Henry. Guard me? Why should you do that? Now, listen a minute, Henry. You probably know we've been suspecting the masked men of those murders. What do you mean, killings and murders? I thought there was only one man killed. We found the guard, Pete, murdered down at the jail a while ago. He had a silver bullet in his hand, too, just like that old desert rat. That masked man gives out silver bullets? He must be doing the killing. Henry, he isn't the one. We have reason to believe that Marson had something to do with him, and that's why we came to guard you. Marson, huh? You think he might try to kill me? Now, don't go to worry, Henry Granger. We ain't going to let anything happen to you. We're staying right here on guard. Well, I guess that'll go along to bed. No one you're here watching will be a mighty big help. You go right along, Henry. We'll sit out here and see that you have nothing to worry about. Thank you, Sheriff. Thank you. Good night to you both. Good night, Henry. Well, Sheriff, with us here, at least Henry Granger will be safe tonight. That's right, Turnbull. That killer ain't going to get in her old Henry Granger if I can help it. And what's more, if he does show his hand, I'll be right on the spot to grab him once and for all. Marson's home was a great stone mansion at the edge of town. The long ranger rained up in the shot of darkness behind the building, an approach to low, lighted window on foot. He saw Marson in the library. The jeweler paced the floor nervously. He glanced at a small object on his desk, sat down, then drew a gun from the drawer. The mask man opened the window silently and stepped inside. Hello, Marson. What? Don't move. Mask? That's to leave the gun on the desk. But who are you? A Missouri friend. The one who uses silver bullets. But he mean you... No. No, don't kill me. I'm not here to kill you. I'm here for a showdown. A showdown? Marson, I don't like murder under any circumstances. At least of all when I'm framed for it. You? You framed? Yes. Happened that I'm sometimes identified by silver bullets. Silver bullets were left in the hands of two murdered men. But they weren't mine. They were just like the one on your desk here. I don't... I'm quite sure those bullets were made in your shop. No. No, they couldn't have been. Where did you get that bullet? I found it in my coat pocket. It... Hey, look here. Do you mean to say you're not the murderer? Marson, you know better than that. Then how? Who is it? I don't understand. I can help. Granger. What is this? Steady. This is a scattergun. It does a lot of damage when I fire it. Oh, you're Henry Granger. I am. Granger, put that gun down. Shut up your life, Marson. I've been watching you. I've been watching you for years. I know how you work the deal to get half interest in my business. Granger, you don't know what you're... I knew that when I died, you'd have all of the business. That was more than I could stand thinking about. I'm an old man and my days are numbers. But I won't mind going if I know you don't reap the harvest of my years of work. Then you're the one who made the silver bullets? I am. The sheriff must have missed you, Granger. He'll probably come here and then... No, no, he won't. The sheriff won't come here and he didn't miss me. He told me all about you and your theory. He's sitting in my home right now thinking I've gone to bed. That's very funny. The sheriff thinks he's gotten me. I see. You'll find both of you dead. Marson shot with your gun and you shot with this scatter gun. You think you killed each other. You think his first idea was right. The jaw of the killer. Granger, wait a minute. You can't do this. Who can't? You won't get away with it, Granger. The sheriff is no fool and I don't... I don't care whether they do or not. I won't mind what happens to me as long as Marson is gone. Listen to me, Granger. You're wrong, all wrong. The store is worthless. Marson. Oh, it's true. We owe more than we can ever hope to pay. We've been losing money for a long time. Lies, Marson. Oh, it's the truth. The bank will verify what I say. We've kept the truth from you so your last years wouldn't be spent in poverty. I haven't drawn a cent from the store for the past year. I don't believe it. I've even put the money my father left me into the store so you could draw a salary. I don't believe a word of it. Oh, Granger, wait. I haven't put it long enough. But you don't know what to... Goodbye, Marson. Don't walk, bugger. Who's that? Missouri. You shootin' slingin' old catamount. Oh, you spazz my scared to gun you. You're gone right it is. You told him I'd make good shots. Hello. Uh-huh. I told him he'd pay him part of you and me come too. You spoiled everything. You hadn't been at that there winter. I'd have had these two. I'd have... What? Granger. I have him. What's happened to him? The bullet hit him. There's a couch over here. Lay him down. Donald. Uh-huh. Want to hear? We don't need it. What's the matter with Granger? Henry. Henry, can you speak? He can't speak, Marsden. Did the bullet that hit his gun glance off? No. No, I think the emotional strain was more than his heart could stand. Oh. Go on. I think the old Henry Granger was the one. Well, I never would have believed it. Well, it's better this way. He's paid for what he did. He's a poor, misguided old man. We'll leave him here for the present. And I'll tell the sheriff to come here. Very well. Marsden. Marsden, I'm sorry. I suspected you. I was wrong. We were both wrong. I suspected you, too. Well, I'll see you again. Well, Missouri, it would have been a shame if Granger had killed a man like that. A shame? Well, don't go at Marsden. You don't know the half of it. Well, that's the Lone Ranger. I'll still let it fly. The story you have just heard is a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated.