 A fiery horse with a speed of light, a clod of dust, and a hearty hyosilver, the lone ranger. With his faithful Indian companion, Toto, the daring and resourceful masked rider 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 hoof beats of the great horse, Silver. The lone ranger rides again. One, two, let's go be close. One, two, three, four. Bob Sawyer drew rain in front of the small house outside of Oreville where he lived with his aunt. Bob was in a great state of excitement and dismounted almost before his horse had come to a stop. Aunt Jenny! Aunt Jenny! Boss, the master. What's happening to me? No, it's good news, Aunt Jenny. I had to come right home and tell you. Thank heaven it's good news. Why are you scared me half out of my wits? Now, what's the news, Bobby? Well, they've asked me to be sheriff of Oreville. I'm to be sworn in to Mora. I'm so proud of you. And you're so young and all. Thanks. Golly, I bet dad would be proud too if he could know. You know Aunt Jenny, when I'm sworn in I'm gonna promise first thing. To run down that Bullseye Smith and his gang no matter how long it takes. Bullseye Smith was a big well-built man known to his followers to be quick on the draw and the expert marksman. For many years he had been the leader of an outlaw gang that had terrorized the West. And though many posses had tried to trail him and his gang, he had always managed to evade the law. Only one man in the gang knew anything about Bullseye's past life. And that was his right-hand man, Carlos Mena. One afternoon Carlos entered the hideout cabin after a trip to the nearby town of Oreville. Senor! Senor! Hi, Carlos. You sound excited about something. What's up? I bring news from town that will interest you greatly, Senor Bullseye. Sit down. Tell me about it. They have appointed a new sheriff in Oreville. A young hombre. Younger old sheriffs don't bother me none. But wait until you hear, Senor. This one, his name, Bob Sawyer. What? What's that you say? It's true, Bullseye. When the badge was pinned on him, I listened to him while he talked to the people in front of his office. He had much to say about what he means to do about you and the rest of us. Maybe I am the youngest sheriff Oreville ever had, and I sure appreciate the honor. But being young isn't going to stop me from trying to be the best sheriff you ever had. What's more, friends? I pledge myself to track down Bullseye's Smith and his gang no matter how long it takes. And I won't give up until I'm able to turn them over the law for the punishment they deserve. I'm new in this job, and it might take a short time to get started, right? But believe me, you can count on me to keep law and order here in Oreville. And to keep my pledge about Bullseye's Smith and his outlaw killers. Come to tell you about it, Senor. I was sure you'd be most interested. Yeah, I'm interested, all right. To think my own kid as a sheriff pledged to get my hide. He'll tell me about the boy, but you did not tell me any details, Bullseye. I do remember that he does not know you are his father. That's right. Bob's about 22 now. When he was about eight, his mom and me had a little place near Pegas. We was what they called Nestes, small farmers. The ranchers there decided to run us out. We and the others wouldn't leave. Then, Senor? They'd come to burn us out. They were shooting. Betsy, my wife, was hit by a stray bullet and died. Bob's aunt, Betsy's sister, come and took the boy over to live with her near Oreville. I turned out low and been at it ever since. He thinks I'm dead. That's the whole story. You'll change your name, of course. Yeah, the Smith. Men started to call me Bullseye, and it stuck. My real name is the same as the kid's, Bob Sawyer. He's a strange turn of events on me, though. I cannot help but wonder what will happen to all of us. Listen, Carlos, maybe he is my kid and all that, but to me, he's another sheriff now. You and the gang don't have to worry about me going soft. Perhaps it would be better if we left here and went far away, Senor. No, no, no. We're staying right here. After all those years, the kid don't mean anything to me. Fact is, I think it'd be a good idea to pull a job soon. Yeah, that's a good idea. Tomorrow night, we'll go into Oreville and clean out that bank of theirs. That'll show the young Maverick just what he's up against. That same afternoon, Tato, Indian companion to the Lone Ranger, returned to their camp in the nearby hills after making a trip to town. Oh, Scott, open up. Open up. Easy, Scott. Anything going in town, Tato? Well, I'm swearing new sheriff. Him young fella named Bob Sawyer. Bob Sawyer, huh? I know of him. He's rather young for the job, but I think he's capable. Well, him make pledge. Him say, him not let up, till him catch Bullseye Smith, an outlaw gang. Oh, I see. He'll be here, Bullseye. Can't he mean outlaw? I know. In fact, I know a great deal about him. I hope Bob Sawyer won't be sorry if he ever does capture Bullseye. Why you say that? Oh, it doesn't matter now, Tato. You stay here near Oreville for a while. You might have the chance to help, Bob. All right, come on. Let's unpack the supplies. The following evening, Tato, hoping to get news, stood at the back of the cafe in town listening, as an admiring group congratulated the young sheriff. Sure was a fine talking, Majority Sheriff. Thanks. You and the posse pick up anything that looked like the outlaw gang's trail when you went out today? Nope, didn't have much luck. But I'm going to keep on trying. Don't forget, you can count on all of us any time you need to. Right, men? I'm glad you feel that way about it, man. Hey, what was that? I don't know, but we'll find out. Something's happened. Hurry up. The Smith gang, they cleaned out the bank and got away. All right, let's get a posse right away. Come on. Easterly mounting scout, Tato left the cafe and rolled to the camp, where he reported the robbery to the Lone Ranger. Didn't take Bullseye Smith long to show his contempt for the new sheriff? I'm that right. Young sheriff getting posse together when Tato leave town. The moon hasn't come up yet. They won't be able to trail the outlaws very well in the dark. Ah, that's what me think. We'll ride toward town and see what we can find out, Tato. Here, silver. Easy, big fella. Let's go to the Lone Ranger. Come on, silver. The Lone Ranger and Tato rode toward town until they came to the trail which the posse had taken. The moon had risen by that time. Oh, silver. Yes, that way, Tato. Come on, silver. They turned and followed the tracks left by the posse. After riding a short distance, they came to a bend in the trail. In a tunnel quickly. Move these beyond that bend in the trail. Must be the posse returning. Ah, it's not good. I know. We can't fire on the posse. Head for the trees to the left. We'll ride off in that direction before they see us. Come on, silver. Stop here. Easy, get it quiet now. Trails in port. A man seemed disgruntled at the young sheriff. We'll ride in a wide circle and then later go back near town. One silver. Get him up, scout. I'll wait here in this clump of trees while you go on into town and find out what's going on. Bob Sawyer and the posse have reached there by now. Ah, me go to cafe. Me be back soon. Get him up, scout. Meantime, Bullseye's gang have returned to their hideout. Bullseye and Carlos entered the cabin together. You know, Carlos, I get a kick out of teasing that kid of mine. I bet he was fit to be tired when they lost the trailer to Crick back there. Ah, see, senor. But he is one smart hombre. That posse was too close for comfort. Of course he's smart. He's my kid, isn't he? Ain't every maverick can get to be a sheriff at his age? Senor, he's not good for the others if you should go soft about that young sheriff's son of yours. Ah, shut up. I know what I'm doing. I wonder if he looks like me when he gets mad. I'm going to rest a while. Go on out and make sure Jake puts up the horses. All right, senor. I'll check on the horses. Wake me up when you come back and we'll count up what we took from that bank. I'll bet Bobby's sure fit to be tired right now. Adios. He's thinking of me as Bobby. I'll fix him. At you, coward. See, you ought to come with me, Jake. There's a bit more teasing we ought to do for that young sheriff in town. The horses are still subtle, no? Sure. Let's go. Get up there. After returning to town, most of the men have gathered at the café, including Bob Sawyer. The young sheriff was the target for criticism from some of the others. I gave up too easy, sheriff. I guess maybe you're a little too young to handle a job after all. I haven't given up at all, men. In the morning, we'll go out again and try to find the hideout. Both Zionist gang are laughing at you and at us for making you sheriff. Now, look here. You have to give me a chance. I've only been sheriff since this afternoon. And tonight, right under your nose, the outlaws rake and rob a bank. Now, wait a minute. You all know that could have happened. Hey, what was that? Something's happening down the street. There goes two hombres. What happened? What's all the luck? Two hombres wearing handkerchiefs over their faces just wrecked the sheriff's office and shot the deputy. Come on. Hurry up. You smoke with a mess. Wind to smash and furniture bust. Well, there's the deputy. He's done for. Now, what have you got to say, sheriff? Better turn in your badge right now. We made a mistake. You're too young. Now, look, Hyde. All right. But I'm not through. I'll prove you didn't make a mistake if I have to hunt bulls-eye Smith for the rest of my life. I... Good night. You're too young. 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. Then you are story. Bob Sawyer, feeling shamed and disgraced, walked from the sheriff's office, he had used so proudly for only a few hours, and headed for the hitch-rack and his horse. Meantime, Toto had been listening, quickly went to the place where Scott was hitched out back, and mounting up road hurriedly to the edge of town where the lone ranger waited. Oh, Scott, open up. Open up. What happened, Toto? I heard shots, but no one wrote out this in the town. Well, two outlaws, smash up sheriff's office, kill deputy, then ride out other in the town. I see. Then say him no good. Him too young for sheriff. He hasn't had a chance to prove himself yet. That's right. Him say him not true. Him gonna hunt down Bullseye Smith alone. Him feel pretty bad about losing Batsky, Masabi. Yes, I can imagine. Him go to get horse, maybe ride it this way soon. Maybe we can help him. Here's silver. Is that a fella, easy? Someone's coming from town now. Ah, may think that, Bob Sawyer. We'll ride out to the trail. Come on, silver. As Bob rode from town, he felt bitter and defeated. He had been more proud of wearing the sheriff's badge than he had cared to admit, and the thought that everyone had lost confidence in him so quickly hurt him deeply. His eyes were downcast as he rode, so he didn't see the two men waiting on the trail in front of him until he heard one of them speak. Just a minute, Sheriff. What? Reach both of you. That gun isn't necessary. We're not outlaws, Bob. Ah, because of you, I just... Don't ask. Come on, silver. We're outlaws. We could have shot you down before you knew we were waiting here. Yeah, I guess you could have a debt. I knew your father, Bob. He would have known what this means. Has it been anything to you? A bullet. That looks like silver. It is. I've heard of you. A mass at White Stallion, the silver bullets. Yeah, now I do know. Sorry, I pulled my gun on you, mister. That's all right. We want to help you, Bob. Thanks. Thanks a lot. But nobody can help me. This is something I got to do alone, mister. Maybe you won't understand, but... Well, that's the way I feel about it. Thanks just the same. Hit him! Proud Kimusabi. Him's plenty bitter. Yes. He doesn't know what's ahead of him. And what we do, Kimusabi? Fairly, Mato. I feel sure he's going to need help sooner or later, in spite of how he feels about it. One, two, three! Let's count! Later that night, Carlos returned to the outlaw camp and entered Bullseye's cabin, where the outlaw leader was sleeping. Carlos told Bullseye what he and Jake had done. So you think that was funny, eh? See, we ride quickly to the edge of town, and then we go back to the buildings and leave our horses. Jake and I, we sneak back into the crowd in front of the sheriff's office. Go on, then what? One of the way you are scowling it is how the new sheriff look when he come out. Only he is one saddle, Mr. Senor. Well, they have taken away his badge. He is not sheriff any longer. Not sheriff any longer? That is right. Boy, you dirty yellow-livered coyote! That kid was proud of that badge. And I was proud to think my kid was wearing it. But I do not serve you, Senor. You yourself have said he meant nothing to you. Shut up! What I said do not matter. My kid had a chance to be something. Now it is spoiled. Ah, forget it, Senor. The way you look, you remind me of him as he rode away. Maybe this will remind you of me. It will teach you not to go making a fool out of my kid. I am riding out of here for a while to do some thinking. When I come back, I do not want to see that ugly face of yours in this cabin. Understand? Leaving the outlaw camp, Bullseye rode along a trail that followed the bank of a creek. He thought back to the time when filled with bitterness and desperation, he had taken to the outlaw trail. Bullseye was too heartened to regret the life of ruthless violence he had lived since then, but somewhere within him stirred the memory of a little boy, his boy, whose chance to be something respectable and decent had been spoiled. Now that it was too late, he felt it would have been best to have moved his gang out of Bob's territory. The mental picture Carlos had drawn of Bob leading the sheriff's office, scowling bitter, disillusioned, set Bullseye wondering, would the son unknowingly follow in the father's footsteps and become an outlaw, a killer? The thought caused him to rain up and dismount. Don was breaking in the east, leading his horse, Bullseye, walk to the edge of the creek bank and stood staring at the water below. Subconsciously, but too late, he heard Hoof's approach and stopped. Ho, ho, ho! Freeze, Mr. Slowly, Bullseye turned and stared into the eyes of his own son. You? You're Bullseye Smith. Those scraggly whiskers, that thick black hair, I saw handbills on you. Yep, I'm Bullseye Smith, all right. You're Bob Sawyer, the new sheriff of Oryville. Thanks to you and your gang, I'm no longer sheriff. But I'm taking you in, dead or alive. I don't reckon I want to go alive since to be hung, it'll have to be dead. All right. I can't shoot you down in cold blood, so I'll dismount and give you a chance to draw. Easy boy. I reckon that's right fair and decent of you, Sheriff. But it's kind of foolish. Maybe I wouldn't have given you that chance. I guess you wouldn't. Any harm, countin' three. Then it's up to you to draw, Savvy. Yep, I Savvy. One. The Grimout Law wasn't called Bullseye without reason. He knew he could draw and shoot before Bob could pull the trigger. Yet he stood calmly, staring at the young man before him. Bob couldn't know the feeling of pride that had welled up inside Bullseye, as he thought that his boy gave fair treatment even to a known killer. He admired the boy's courage and steadiness. Two. Unknown to Bullseye and Bob, other eyes were watching the stark drama, taking place there in the light of dawn between father and son. The lone ranger and tonto had seen Bob stop. They had dismounted down the trail and had led their horses cautiously along an arroyo, until they were close enough to hear and observe. Yeah, that's only one more chance to draw, Smith. It looked like Bullseye not draw. Be not Savvy, Kimusavi. I don't think he will, Tonto. I can't let Bob... You're not a count, son. He knows he's asking for it. Kimusavi, look behind rock a trail in back of outlaw. The Grim of a gun barrel. Freeze! Bob, wait! Bullseye get shot. Come on, Tonto. You sneaking killer. Get his gun, Tonto, and fix his wound while I go see about Bullseye. Ah, me do it. He never did draw. I shot him down in cold blood. No, Bob. Your bullet didn't hit him. My yell must have made your shot go wild. But I'm sorry. He was shot in the back when the man Tonto was fixing up over there. Must be one of his own gang who had a grudge against him. I'm glad it wasn't my bullet. Is... Is he...? I heard what she said. Must have been that dirty coyote Carlos. Take it easy, Bullseye. Tell the sheriff to lead over me. Why? He still calls me sheriff. I'm here, Smith. Now you... Now you get back in bed, son. Live up to it. You shake my hand, sheriff. Yeah, sure. There. But... At mass, comrade, I know him. Be a good lawman like him, son. If you ever have a kid, did you break in the law at that place? Sure. Sure I will, Bullseye. I know my dad would want me to live straight. Yeah. Yeah, he would. I could tell you that, son. He's gone, Bob. Gotcha. I never thought Bullseye Smith would be... Well, like that. One never knows what's in the heart of any man, Bob. Yeah. I... I'll go bring his horse over here. He must have been... Yes? A man named Carlos. Sorry now, him... Shoot Bullseye. Him say... Him keep Bullseye secret. He's not savvy. I'm glad Bob's bullet didn't kill Bullseye. You see, Tonto? Bob is the outlaw's son. Oh. We'll get them back to town now. And we can round up the rest of the gang. The following afternoon, Bob Sawyer stood beside his aunt in their home amidst a group of admiring townsmen. Well, we brought out the sheriff's badge to pin back on you, Bob. Let me pin it on you. Golly, thanks. We have to thank you, Sheriff. You sure brought in Bullseye like you said. Then we now got the gang, too. Oh, my goodness, Bobby. Your father'd be so proud. I hope so, Aunt Jenny. But I'm not really the one to thank. The mass man who rode home here with me deserves the thanks. Even poor Bullseye helped me get my badge back in a way. I'm never savvy why he wouldn't draw. But what the mass man said. I guess I'll never know what he meant by that. What are you talking about, Bobby? Oh, just something I heard the mass man say. Then, six, son, who is that mass man? He's an hombre, even outlaws like Bullseye seem to respect and look up to Aunt Jenny. He's called the Lone Ranger. Lone Ranger? This is a feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated, created and produced by George W. Trendle, a Charles D. Livingston, and edited by Fram Stryker. The part of the Lone Ranger is played by Brace Beamer.