 The horse with a speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty-hi-yo silver! 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! Hear that? It's the sound of a mighty American Airlines flagship taking off! You know, being an American Airlines pilot is an exciting job, and now, thanks to Cheerios, you too can share in that fun, because inside every specially marked package of Cheerios, you'll now find a free American Airlines air travel game! Yes, a free airplane game for you and your friends, complete with instructions, four airplane playing pieces, a spinner and two playing boards! You're the pilot in this exciting air travel game, and you play on a real American Airlines system map that adds to the fun. On the back, you'll find another paper game board with lots of important information every American Airlines pilot must know. So how about it? You be the pilot! Get your complete American Airlines air travel game today, free in Cheerios! Look for the special Cheerios package with a flying airplane on front. Supplies are limited, so hurry! Ask for Cheerios today! The ready-to-eat old cereal that gives you go-power! With this faithful Indian companion, Toto, 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 hoof beats of the great horse Silver! The lone ranger rides again! Come on, Silver! What's going on? I'm Silver! Sheriff John Trent sat at the desk in his office, which occupied part of the jail building in the town of Orville. The veteran lawman had long been proud of his shooting ability, but now he winced as he read the newspaper. For the first time in his life, he was under editorial fire. As a deputy entered the office, Sheriff Trent looked up and said, Jake, newspaper claims I murdered Hook Mason. I'm trying to frame a crime on the two men in jail. Sheriff Hook shot first. You killed that crook in self-defense. As for his partners, Hatt Miller and Lance Holder... Paper claims they're innocent prospects. That dog gone newspapers against you politically. The editor even brings Hook Mason's widow into the story. How? Says she needs cash, wants to sell hooks, gun and other things. Breaking out call on her, Jake. Hold down the office. All right, Sheriff. Meanwhile, in a nearby camp, the lone ranger read the newspaper that Tonto had brought with supplies from town. The masked man scammed the news, then said, Tonto, Sheriff John Trent's in trouble. That's very bad. We hear him good lawman. Yes, one of the best. Why him in trouble? This paper says he unnecessarily shot and killed one of three men suspected of stage robbery and murder. Two of the men are now in jail. Who, Sheriff Hill? Hook Mason. That name is familiar. You remember? We hear it somewhere. We saw the name on a reward poster in Missouri. Hook Mason is one of the names used by an outlaw who escaped from Missouri prison while serving a life sentence. That's right. Him have crooked trigger fingers. Yes. Because of that crooked finger, he had to cut off the front part of the trigger guard on any gun he used. Maybe him same fellow, Sheriff Huit. We could prove that the newspaper editor could no longer complain that John Trent shot an innocent prospector. And that helped, Sheriff. Yes. This paper speaks of Hook Mason's widow who's trying to sell her husband's possessions. Find out where she lives, Tutto, and tonight we'll call on her. Let me go find out now. Get him up! That evening, when the sheriff returned to his office with a fancy gun belt buckled around his hips and a new-style colt in the holster, the deputy said, Well, Sheriff, I see you got hooks, gun and belt. That's right, Jake. I also bought his horse and saddle and the rest of his gear, which I left at my house. Did you find Mrs. Mason unfriendly? No. No. It seemed to me she hadn't been happy with Hook. I think she's glad to be free to go back to the East. Yeah. She's not the only one who's free. What do you mean? A little while ago, I released Happ Miller and Lance Holt. What? The judge ordered their release for lack of evidence. So I had to give them their guns and horses and let them go. Jake, those crooks have gotten away with murder. Meanwhile, Happ Miller and Lance Holt had written on a boreville and were heading toward an isolated, lighted cabin. Hey, Lance, Mary Mason must be home. Let's hope we find Hook's gun belt there. We gotta have that cartridge. Are you sure Hook put the map inside a cartridge? I saw and do it. The cartridge and his gun belt. Now we're close to the cabin. Rain in. Hook Mason's widow was busy packing a few belongings for her return to the East. As she closed the carpet bag, Happ Miller and Lance Holt, their faces covered by bandanas, entered the cabin with guns in their hands. Keep quiet or you get hurt. What do you want? Hook's gun belt. It's not here. Don't lie. I'm not lying. Where is it? I sold all of Hook's things to the sheriff. He knew I needed money to return to the East and he bought everything to help me out. Maybe she's telling the truth. I don't see any of Hook's gear around here. I am telling the truth. We'll find out. You're going with us. Where? To the sheriff's office. We want Fent to open the back door of his office. He'll do it for you. Now come on. No, let me go. They self-struck us. There goes the table. Come on, give me a hand. Right. Come on. Oh, my arm. By this work, oh, peaceful. All right. I'll go. A few minutes after Mary left with the two men, the lone ranger and tato rode up to the cabin and grew rain. Oh, well, he's pretty big fella. Seeing the door wide open, they went inside. Someone here. There's been a struggle here, Tano. Notice the table on this cuff rug. That's right. We look for Hook Mason's guns. Now come with me. Where we going? To the sheriff's office. We'll tell John Trent about the man who escaped from the Missouri prison. And we'll report the condition of Mary Mason's cabin. Easy, city big fella. While the lone ranger and tato were riding toward town, Sheriff Trent sat at his desk alone in the office. He had fired his newly purchased gun a few times and had just finished cleaning and reloading it when someone wrapped on the locked back door. I wonder who that is. The sheriff dropped the gun into his holster as he moved to the door and called. Who's there? Sheriff. It's Mary Mason. Oh, I'll unlock the door. Outside the door, the outlaws whose faces were still covered stood behind Mary Mason with guns drawn. Why'd you come to... Gunman, what's this mean? That's your hand. Oh, hoots. Sheriff, they made me come here. Go on in. The sheriff held his hands at shoulder level. As the two men using Mary Mason as a partial shield entered the office, and suddenly the woman leaped aside. You crazy! The sheriff grew and triggered his gun. Sidewriters? But the gun misfired. The half-billard knocked the gun from the woman's hand. I'll shoot at you, sir. Hold him. I'll wrap him with my gun barrel and go. Hey, that got him. Hey, grab the woman. She's trying to get away. They're not so fast. Let me go! Don't let her yell. I've got my hand over my... Here's the sheriff's bandana. I'll gag her with it. Go ahead. I'll hold her throat, and she tries to yell out suddenly. When Mary Mason was gagged and tightly bound to a chair, the outlaws turned their attention to the unconscious lawman on the floor. Hey! He's wearing Hook's gun belt. I'll unbuckle it. Are you sure one of these cartridges has a map inside? Yeah, but I don't know which one. There. I got the belt. That's Vamos. Soon after Happen Lentz rode away with the gun belt, the lone ranger and totto drew rain in the darkness behind the sheriff's office. Through the open door, they saw a woman tied to a chair gagged and a man lying on the floor. They hurried into the room. Release the woman, totto. I'll see about this man. He didn't wear a band. He must be the sheriff, John Trent. He's alive. I think he's regaining consciousness. Now you're not gagged. Oh, my throat. You'll not try to talk. After me cut ropes, me get your water. What hit me? Steady, sheriff. Mask. I gotta get up. I'll help you to a chair. I'll take it easy. I don't serve you. Two mask men try to kill me. When I come to, I find a masked man helping me. Here's your chair. Sit down for a minute. Who are you? Why are you masking? We'll get to your questions later, sheriff. Please believe that Totto and I are on your side. Totto? That's the name of my Indian friend. Well, I'll admit you've proved friendly so far. We read what the newspaper said about the shooting of Hook Mason. The name was familiar to us. We'd heard of a murderer by that name who escaped. We'll continue our lone ranger adventure in just a moment. All over the country in every direction. How you, how you do it is a question. And here's what the happy people have to say. We didn't know what we did. When we do, do, do and okay. Okay. Sure enough, take Midwestern champions, for instance. When Bobby Feller takes the mound, the outfield boys sit on the ground. That Wheaties pitching leaves them there, watching batters fan the air. And when we name our Wheaties crew, big Ted Klauzewski's in there, too. He'll face those hurlers day or night and knock their fastballs out of sight. Bob Feller and Ted Klauzewski both know that Wheaties magic. There's a whole kernel of wheat in every Wheaties' flake. Wheaties, breakfast of champions. Keep party, do your Wheaties. And you, we do, do, do and okay. Okay. Now to continue. Hoping to win the sheriff's confidence, the lone ranger told about the convict who had escaped from prison in Missouri. And of the trip to the Mason home to learn whether the man shot by the sheriff was the same individual. Then Mary said, I'm Mary Mason. I knew nothing of my husband's activities. He rarely came home, and when he did, he stayed for only a few days. Did he have a crooked index finger? Yes. He must have been the man who broke out of prison. No wonder he shot it out with me when I tried to arrest him. He probably figured he'd be identified and sent back to prison. What happened here in your office, Sheriff? Well, I heard a rap on the back door. Let me explain, Sheriff. Yes, ma'am. Two men whose faces were covered by bandanas came to my home and demanded my husband's gun belt. When I told them I'd sold it to you, Sheriff, they brought me here. Unduration. The gun belt's gone. They must have taken it. They did. I'm sorry, Sheriff. I was afraid they'd kill me unless I did as they said. I didn't think they'd hurt you. The pole cats wouldn't have had the chance to knock me out if my gun hadn't misfired it. I reckon they got the gun, too. No. Here, gun. Well, that's the one. Have me pick it up from floor. It got trigger-guard cut way. May I see your tunnel? That was my husband's gun. It's a good one. I bought it along with a gun belt. Fired a dozen shots trying it out. It worked fine till the showdown with those crooks. Here's the cartridge that must be fired. I'd sure like to know why those hombres were so anxious to get the gun belt. What are you doing, mister? The bullet is loose, Miss cartridge. Sure enough. There's no powder in the shell. That's why it failed to fire. The shell is filled with paper. Paper? Here it is, tightly rolled up. Now, why in tarnation... Look at this, Sheriff. Seems to be a map. Hmm. The line looks like a trail route. Ending at a place marked X. What's that writing say? Castle Butte, Big Rock, Little Mesa. Must be landmarks. Here, look at this, Mrs. Mason. Does it look like your husband's handwriting? Yes. Aye, savvy. Hook and his pals hid the Wells Fargo cache. That's why they didn't have it when I arrested them. Hook proved this map so they could find the place where they'd left it. Was this cartridge in the gun belt? Yes. Now, a bed hook, pal, hat, miller and lance holder, the ones who stole the belt. The newspapers said they were in jail. They were released a few hours ago on a court order. I see. I suppose there's no use arresting them again. I couldn't prove they stole the gun belt. Even if you could prove that, you'd have nothing to connect them to the Wells Fargo robbery. You're right. Oh, Sheriff, will you step outside with me for a minute? I'd like to discuss a crime with you. In the darkness outside the office, the Lone Ranger outlined a plan that brought a frown to the Sheriff's face. It's mighty dangerous. I'm sure it'll succeed, if you'll help me, Sheriff. I'll have to borrow some clothing. I'll be glad to lend you clothes. I'll wear a disguise and pose as the agent for an Eastern firearms factory. In the end, the Sheriff agreed to cooperate. The next morning, Sheriff Trent appeared in the Nugget Cafe, wearing his old sick shooter and complaining loudly that the gun he'd bought from Mrs. Mason was not reliable. I let an Eastern firearms expert take the gun for a checkup. I reckon he'll find out what's wrong with it. I didn't know there was an Easterner in town. Yeah, the jet I mentioned arrived last night. He should be here in the cafe right now. He promised to meet me. The stranger just came through the front door. He's the man! Wearing borrowed clothing and with his face disguised, the Lone Ranger walked directly to the Sheriff who stood with a group of men at the end of the bar. Good morning, Sheriff. Howdy, mister. Did you get that cold-fixed up? There was nothing wrong with the gun. It failed to fire because one cartridge was loaded with paper instead of powder. Paper? Well, of all things. Here's your gun. Now, why in Tarnation would there be paper and a cartridge? Probably someone wanted to play a joke on the owner of the gun. Fine joke. Might cost a man his life. If you don't mind, Sheriff, I'll keep the paper and the worthless cartridge. I don't mind. Why do you want it? As a souvenir, I'm interested in souvenirs and curiosities. Yes. As a matter of fact, I'm going to investigate some of the curiosities of nature in the Badlands. I've heard of the strange rock formation. You intend to go out to the Badlands? Yes. Later in the day. That's no place for a tender foot. You might get lost. I'm sure I'll be able to take care of myself. Well, it's your funeral. Later in the morning, Hapmiller and Lance Holt, disappointed at not finding the map in any of the cartridges in the stolen gun belt, returned to Orville from their camp. They soon learned that an eastern tender foot had headed into the Badlands with a paper-loaded cartridge taken from the Sheriff's gun. The two outlaws immediately set out in pursuit, unaware that they, in turn, were being followed by the Sheriff, his deputy, and Toto. After riding for some time across the rock-strewn Badlands, Hapmiller and Lance saw a column of smoke rising from beyond a massive boulder. Get up there! Get up! A few minutes later, the two outlaws reached the campfire, where the man in eastern clothing was preparing a meal. The disguised lone ranger arose to greet the horseman. How do you do? Are you two gentlemen to share my food? We've got other plans. Right your hands. A gun. Two guns. Get your hands up. This is an outrage. Better take his gun, Lance. Right. This is a fine gun for an expert to be carrying. It's ready for the scrap-eating. Why are you holding me up? You've got a map. We want it. Who told you I had a map? Never mind how we know it, but hand it over. If you want it, you'll have to take it. I'll do that. And fight for it. Fight! You'll pay for hitting them. No, no, no. I'll shoot you. No, no, don't shoot. I want to beat him to the ground. Brambley then aroused the suspicion of the cooks by giving up the map too easily. The lone ranger fought the most difficult battle of his life. In accordance with his plan, he had to lose the fight, but without being maimed or killed. From behind a pile of boulders, a short distance away, Tato and the two lawmen who had followed the outlaws watched the struggling men. The sheriff said, Hold your guns ready. If those crooks make a move to kill our friend, let them have it. Happen Lance bent over the lone ranger who lay motionless on the ground and searched through his pockets for the map. You sure put up a fight? Yeah, he's bloody tough. We're an Easterner. I hope he's got the map. There's something in his pocket. Yeah. A piece of paper. Is that the map? Yeah. And the empty shells in the same pocket. We don't need that. Let's see the map. It looks easy to follow. Sure it is. As long as we know we have to start from Slim Beauty. Let's get going. What about the Easterner? Leave him where he is. He's still alive. Maybe we ought to shoot him so he can't identify us. Even if he's able to reach town after the beating we gave him, it will be a long way from here by the time he tells his story. Yeah, all right, Happen. Let's get going. Let's do it. Come on, get up there. It was sunset when Happenmiller and Lance Holt reached an odd-shaped boulder at the base of which, according to the chart, the Wells Fargo money had been buried. It took but a few minutes to recover the sacks of currency and transfer the money to saddlebags. Then Happenmiller said, Your hook was here. You would have to split the cash three ways instead of two. Yeah. A half is bigger than a third. Thank you. Good lunch. Why you holding your gun on me? And all of it is bigger than a half. Now you don't mean it. Lance, you're not going to shoot me. Yes, again, Happenmiller. No, no, please. Drop that gun. Huh? Hey, smash. Drop that gun. I'll drop you. Oh, a hand. You shouldn't have tried to shoot me. You're covered, Happenmiller. The sheriff. Pist your hand. Yeah, yeah, they're up. He take guns. All right, Tutto, just arm the critters and Jake will snap the handcuffs up. Where'd you come from? Who's the mask man? Lance, we figured you'd find the money if you got the map, so we just followed you. What, that mask man? You should remember me, Lance. We had a fist fight a little while ago. No. Well, you can't beat Easton. I do believe it. Hold your hands up for these bracelets. But I don't serve him. You're under arrest for the Wells Fargo robbery and the murder of the stagecoach, guard, and driver. That's all you've got to say. And this time, we've got you with a stolen cash. That should silence your critic, Sheriff. It sure will. Especially when the coroner, Mrs. Mason, testified about Hook's crooked finger. Should be easy to prove that Hook's the man who was wanted, dead or alive, or breaking out of the Missouri pen. And if you need more proof, you have Hook's gun with a cutaway trigger guard. That's right. Thanks to you, Mr. that newspaper editor is going to eat his words. How don't I have proud to work with a good lawman, Sheriff? Well, I'm proud to have worked with you. Come on, tell him. How do you, Sheriff? I'm certain this day's work will assure your reelection. Thanks again. He's a very big fella. He's got a big big fella. Come on, tell him! Tell him! Tell him! That mask man! Yeah, look at him red. He's no Easterner. That's right, Hap. He's no Easterner. He's the Lone Ranger. The feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated is produced by Kendall Campbell Muir Incorporated. The part of the Lone Ranger is played by Brace Beamer. Your announcer, Fred Floyd. Listen to the Lone Ranger.