 A fiery horse with a speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty hyo-silver, the Lone Ranger. Before this exciting adventure, a word from our sponsor. A cloud of dust, a flash of light, and a hearty hyo-morita, the Lone Stranger Eeps again. We can't let these devils get their hands on our marita white bread canto. No, because me want get my butter on marita. Also peanut butter, jams, jellies, hot chicken, cold cuts, and coyote meat. Right, pronto, marita is perfect for everything. It's baked while you sleep, so it's the freshest, best-tasting white bread. List me, you wanton criminal, and me wanton marita. Also, children want marita for lunch and snacks, so does the man who appreciates a really good sandwich, and the woman who wants to serve only the best. Look, them wailing white flag. No, they're waiting a white bread, and going away. Right, they know they can never hope to equal the fresh baked white bread goodness of marita. Good. Now, me want sandwich. Not plain coyote meat. No, coyote and cream cheese. Tune in again for those thrilling days of yesteryear, the Lone Stranger Eeps again. Hyo-morita, away! With his faithful Indian companion, Tato, the daring and resourceful mask 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 hoofbeats of the great horse Silver. The Lone Ranger rides again. Come on Silver, let's go people, I am Silver! In northern Wyoming, the Cheyenne Indians suffered a stinging defeat at the hands of soldiers stationed at Fort Stanley. Disarmed and dispirited, the Indians were bitter and vengeful, but they bought at their time while Chief Red Hand and a sub-chief named Little Fox traded secretly with gun runners. Finally, when a supply of rifles and ammunition had been accumulated, Red Hand and Little Fox conferred in the chief's wigwam in the tribal village. Little Fox, every day you go to Fort, you beg fools. You bring back information. That's right, with information you bring back. I make plan to conquer soldier, get revenge. How many rifles we got now? 100. Chief, that not enough to make war on soldiers? Oh, that plenty if we use good plan. You tell me daughter of Colonel live at Fort. Family of several officers live there, and you say girl leave Fort one day each week. That's right. But go west to Robertsville. You find out when girl go to town next time. I mean no. But go tomorrow. One man go with her. Him not soldier. Him right for Newspick. Then you take three braves. Capture girl. Bring here through Sundance Canyon. Soldier will follow trail through Sundance Canyon. There we have big ambush ready. At that moment at Fort Stanley, some distance south of the Indian village, Colonel Horton sat at the desk in his office. With him were his 20-year-old daughter Linda, and Gil Hayes a reporter from the New York Globe. The Colonel was saying... And since we defeated and disarmed them over a year ago, the Cheyennes have been quiet and peaceful. Chief Redhand has accepted the situation, and his sub-chief, Little Fox, has become a hangar on around the port. I've talked to that ragged beggar several times in the three weeks I've been here, Colonel. My editor doesn't like the stories I've sent in about the peaceful Indians. He wants blood and thunder coffee. Does your editor expect me to start a war for his benefit? I don't think the fierce Cheyennes have any fight left in them. I think I could lick the whole tribe single-handedly. Indeed. I'd like to see what you do, Gil Hayes. If we run into a few Cheyennes on our trip to Robertsville tomorrow. Are you two going to Robertsville tomorrow? Yes, Dad. I have some shopping to do. As you say. Master Sergeant Mike Malone, sir. Come in. Hello, Mike. Oh, howdy, Miss Linda. Mr. Hayes. How, Mike? Well, Sergeant, what is it? It's about the Crow Indian scout, sir. I'll never be able to make soldiers out of them. They're at this grace to the uniform, sir. What have they done? Done. Done? They put feathers in their hats. They wear moccasins instead of boots. And the way they ride. Oh, it's against all regulations, sir. Hume with them, sir. Hume with them. Do the best you can to train them, but don't antagonize them. Don't want them to desert. All right, sir. I'll do my best to make soldiers out of them. The Colonel's daughter looked thoughtful as the grizzled sergeant left the commandant's office. Later that day, there was an impish gleam in her eyes. When she met Mike near the stables and told of the conversation in her father's office. Gil Hayes wants blood and thunder. And he boasted that he could lick the Cheyenne single-handed. Ooh. He did that, Miss Linda? Yes. I want to see him face-wild in Den's, Mike. Well, I bet he'd be scared to death. I want your help. My help? Yes. Tomorrow, Gil Hayes and I are going to Robertsville. We have permission to go in the ambulance. You and your crow scouts will be outside before it. I'm maneuvering. Yes, Miss Linda. Can you and your crows make a sham attack on us? Sham attack? Yes, on the ambulance. Make Gil think your crow scouts are Cheyennes on the warped path. My scouts would love such horseplay. Well, you do it. Sure, Miss. We'll come rigged out with war paint and feathers like the Cheyennes. Good. Just be sure that reporter doesn't shoot a few of my land. I'll make sure of that. Now, we'll follow the road west from the fort to Robertsville. We'll make the attack when you reach Five Sleep Hill. Detail! The following morning, Mike Malone and his crow scouts rode out of the fort as usual. A short time later, Gil Hayes and Linda started west in the army ambulance. The same morning found the lone ranger and tonto riding slowly across the area between Fort Stanley and the Cheyenne village, about five miles north of the fort. They were hoping to learn the truth about a rumor that the Cheyennes had acquired rifles in violation of the peace pact. You must have it. Wait, hold on. Easy, easy, fella. They're tracts of horses. Let me take a close look. Easy, silly big fella. Those tracts were made by Unshod Hoos. That's right. They look like Indian ponies. Yes, four of them. They came from the direction of the Cheyenne village and headed south-west. Tracts look fresh. Look here. What you find? An empty rifle shell. It still smells of burned powder. They look like they come from Winchester, 73. Yes. Then the Indians got rifles. They have at least one. Apparently they tried it out here. What do we do? They'll follow the trail. He used to live in Fort Stanley. Hold it. Get him up and scout. As the lone ranger and tonto followed the trail of the four Cheyennes, the army ambulance moved westward along the road to Robertsville. Get up there. Come on, get up there. Linda Horton handled the reins and managed the horses skillfully. Gil Hayes, unused to horses and guns, sat beside the girl. He glanced repeatedly at an army colt on Linda's lap, and finally said, Linda, why did you bring that gun? Just a precaution, Gil. Surely you don't expect trouble. You never can tell. The Cheyennes have been peaceful for a long time, but I'm sure Chief Redhand will never forget the way my father defeated his tribe. Oh, that's something to think about. Indian attacks when you least expect it. Come on there. Get up. Come on. You better watch your side of the trail for signs of an ambush. I'll keep my eyes open. Get up there. Come on, get up. I wish I'd learned to use a gun. Oh, I know how to use this one if it becomes necessary. Linda, Indians over there. That was still over five miles from Five Sweets Hill. What's that got to do with that? Look at those pleated savages. Four of them. They're riding porous. The Indians, washing from one side, brandished rifles and had red and yellow circles painted on their faces and bodies. Come on, get up there. Get up. As Linda realized that they were not Mike Malone's band of masterators, the mischievous look died in her eyes. She used the whip on the horses. Get up there. Come on, get up. They're firing at us. Bullets fired as a warning to halt ripped through the canvas top of the military ambulance. We'll try to outrun them. Get up there. Come on, get up. The road was rough. The ambulance bounced and rocked crazily. Then the four Indians led by Little Fox turned onto the road behind the military vehicle. Gil crung to the seat and watched through the opening at the rear. They're gaining on us. Take the reins, Gil. I'll shoot at them. But I can't hit them. Take them. I have the reins, but I don't know how to handle horses. Do the best you can. I'll give those redskins something to think about. Get up. Get up there. Hit them. No. Well, the colonel's daughter was a good shot. The swaying of the ambulance made it impossible for her to fire accurately. She emptied the gun without even slowing the Indians directly behind. Then one of the wheels of the ambulance struck a rock. The ambulance careened to one side. The joke pitched the reporter headlong from the seat. He fell to the roadside and rolled into a drainage ditch. We'll continue our Lone Ranger adventure in just a moment. A cloud of dust, a flash of light, and a hearty hyalomorita. The Lone Stranger eats again. Well, Pronto, have you been to a picnic before? A little bighorn. That was no picnic. Maybe not for cavalry. Why is the Lone Stranger in Pronto? Hello, ma'am. Hello. Can I get you boys some marita-enriched hot dog and hamburger buns? Much obliged, ma'am. Here you are. How come there no hot dog or hamburger in these buns? Maybe they're vegetarians. Why, goodness gracious, no. We just love the baked, wild-asleep fresh taste so much. We never put anything in our marita hot dog and hamburger buns. Well, they're very delicious. Thank you, and goodbye, ma'am. Oh, my. He handed me a silver bullet. May take that. Indian giver. Dune in again for those thrilling days of yesteryear. The Lone Stranger eats again. I owe marita. Now, to continue. The army horses responded gallantly to Linda's desperate cries and gradually drew farther ahead of the pursuing Indians. For over two miles, the race continued. Then the weight of the heavy ambulance began to tell. The strength of the team was nearly gone and the Indians gained rapidly. Linda recognized Little Fox as he raced past the ambulance, ripped the bridle of one of the horses and shouted, Little Fox, let's go. The other Indians closed in as the horses came to a halt about half a mile from where Gilhaze lay out of sight in the ditch. Little Fox, what's the meaning of this? The Colonel will kill you. Me not afraid. Come on. For the first time, Linda and the Cheyenne saw a mask man approaching from the side an Indian rode beside him and both were firing from the saddle. One Indian struck in the shoulder by a bullet spilled from the saddle. Another had his rifle shot from his hand. Little Fox and the fourth Cheyenne dropped their empty rifles and held up their hand. Don't shoot, Mr. Ender. A mask man. We're on your side. Oh, thank heaven for that. You Indians, just mount him, keep your hands up. I'll cover them fellow when you search and tie them. Big time. That Indian's name is Little Fox. He's been a beggar around the fourth, Fort Stanley. Are you from the fourth? Yes, I'm the Colonel's daughter, Linda Horton. Oh, I've heard of you, Miss Horton. The Colonel's a friend of mine. He is. But you're masked. He'll tell you about the mask. He knows me as the lone ranger. Oh, well, he told me about you. But you tell me what these Indians were up to. While Tuttle gave attention to the prisoners, Linda explained how a real attack had taken the place of one that was to have been a joke on the reporter. She concluded, And now, poor Gilhaze is dead. Somewhere along the road. How far back? Several miles. You must hurry. Yes. Four prisoners and ambulance now. All tight. Wounded man. Bandit. Good. Look. A band of about 30 horsemen appeared over the crest of a hill. Here come the Crow Indians. The army scouts I told you about in Mike Malone. Presently, the grizzled sergeant and his group of Crow Indians painted and dressed like Cheyennes on the warpath joined the group at the ambulance. Mike explained that he had heard the shooting and hurried to investigate. Linda told about the attack about Gilhaze and introduced the masked man. The lone ranger sakes her life. Mike, I have a suggestion. Yes, sir? You're in me and a scouting expedition. Huh? The Cheyennes who attacked the ambulance had rifles. Redhand may have many more such rifles. That's right, sir. He must have had some reason for trying to capture Miss Horton. Perhaps he intends to start an uprising. I got it. You may be right. Dressed and painted as you and your men are, you may be able to get close to the Cheyennes without arousing suspicion. But what are the prisoners? Miss Linda and Gilhaze. Hello. Will you see that Miss Horton and the prisoners are taking with the force? Oh, me do it. Me drive ambulance. Tie scout behind me. On the way, look for Gilhaze. Oh, me do it. Now, Mike, are you and your men ready to ride with me? That we are, sir. Meanwhile, Gilhaze, though shaken by his fall, had not been seriously injured. Knowing he had no hope of overtaking the ambulance and convinced that Linda's capture was inevitable, he had hurried on foot to a ranch he remembered passing. There, he borrowed a horse and managed to ride to the fort. He told his story to the Colonel. The infuriated commandant said, Aren't you certain she was captured by Cheyennes? Yes, sir. There can't be any doubt of it. Alice in the squad west in search of the ambulance. Meanwhile, we'll move against the Cheyenne village. Lieutenant! Yes, sir. Have the trumpeter sound boots your saddle. Yes. Regiment! Not knowing that his daughter was being safely returned to the fort from the west, Colonel Horton let his regiment north from the fort. He chose the most direct approach to the Cheyenne village, a route that would take him and his men through Sundance Canyon. The regiment was still some distance from the canyon when the lone ranger, Sergeant Mike Malone and the crow scouts reached the top of a ridge near the canyon. There, the masked man signaled a halt. Oh, hello. How are you? Good to be here. Mike, we'll leave our horses and your men here. You and I will crawl to the brush to a place where we can see into the canyon. Oh, what do you think it'll be there? I'm not sure, I don't think of any reason why the Cheyennes would want to capture Miss Horton unless they hope to use her as a decoy. I think you're right. If that's what they had in mind, Sundance Canyon is a logical place for ambush. Let's take a look. Right. Softly, the masked man and the sergeant moved through the underbrush on the high ridge until they could look down on the steep slope that bordered one side of Sundance Canyon. Mike explained softly. The saints preserve us. Cheyenne Indians hidden in the slope. And probably there's more of them on the opposite side of Sundance Canyon. On with rifles. Did it be a massacre of the regiment road into the canyon thinking the Cheyennes are without arms? Tell us a report and Linda's return will prevent... Holy smoke. Look to the south. The regiment with the colonel in the lead. They don't suspect a thing. Look how they're riding in the column of fours. Why are they coming here? I don't know. We must warn the colonel. How? Will your crow scouts follow us in a charge that'll drive some of those Cheyennes into the open and expose the trap? That they will. Drive the glories. Howdy Mike. Give the word. Come on. Get up. Get up. With a mask man and Mike in the lead the disguised co-Indians swept over the crest of the ridge in an extended formation. Whooping and shouting they gave the impression of being five times their actual number as they charged down the steep slope. A surprise attack coming from the rear and above and carried out by Indians who looked like fellow tribesmen they broke from cover like crushed animals. When Colonel Horton heard the gunfire break out in the canyon he halted the regiment to study the situation. He explained to them that Slup is alive with Cheyennes in their arms. They may have shot a trap for us sir. But where are they fighting each other? Hand me a few glasses. Here you are sir. Some of the Indians are muttered they seem to be fighting the others. That man on the white horse is a tag. The Indians are retreating to the floor of the canyon. The Indians are running down the opposite slope to join them sir. The man on the white horse is masked with Scotty he's a lone ranger. He must go to his aid. The troopers opened fire as they charged into the battle. Many of Chief Red Hand's men went down. The survivors heavily outnumbered dropped their rifles and fled toward the village. Sergeant White shouted to his crow followers. Come on me lads we'll chase them. The lone ranger closed in on Chief Red Hand. Oh you're the trouble maker Red Hand. Me killed. The Chief threw a knife and leaped at the mask man. But the lone ranger's gun spoke. You're under I'll break your other arm. No not shoot again I think give up. The capture of Red Hand the last of the Cheyenne war chiefs marked the end of the battle of Sundance Canyon and that battle was to go down in history as the end of all Cheyenne conspiracies. At some said Colonel Horton sat in his office telling Linda and Gil Hayes about the ambush and the fight. He finished. Oh after it was all over I learned from the mask man that you were safe. Oh dad if you hadn't been warned of the ambush but you and all your men would have been killed. Yes thanks to the story Gil Hayes told me. But Colonel I was so sure that Linda had been captured. Oh that Gil no odd feeling you. After all talked him into it. Yeah he knew the fact that we'd uncovered the Cheyenne conspiracy and broken it up I'm willing to let the matter drop. Good. Well Gil you wanted the blood and thunder story. Yes sir and I sure have a big story now one of the biggest my papers ever had from this part of the country. The story of the Cheyenne conspiracy that's a big story sir but not the biggest. Then the story of the battle of Sundance Canyon story that will please my editor more than any other is the story of a man who's become a legend the lone ranger. I'd like to read you something the label on the loaf of marita old fashioned enriched white bread and I quote enriched means that eight ounces of this bread supplies the following percentages of minimum daily requirement for these essential food substances thiamine vitamin B1 90% riboflavin 6% niacin another B vitamin 75% iron 62 and a half percent calcium 20% but that's just the outside story what goes into marita old fashioned white bread is another story a story of a rich old recipe a recipe that produces an old fashioned bread that's rounded at the top with a crust that's golden brown firm yet tender moist and very delicious so when enriched white bread read what's on it and remember what's in it listen to the lone ranger carnival waited on his porch across the tracks from the warehouse all day for word from his men that tato had been found dead or alive early evening found him pacing the floor of his living room with increasing impatience finally he heard horses outside he rushed to the window they're here at last well what did you find speak up indian dead or alive we don't know you don't know we didn't find him didn't see hide in her hair the critter all right keep looking in the dark even in starlight you'll be able to see a horse remember his horse is somewhere in that valley all right boss we'll keep searching hey boss what do you want jug someone just headed for the warehouse I don't see anyone can't see him now he just went behind it who was it I couldn't be sure boss but the critter walked like old muskrat peter who's he perhaps muskrat sells the skins I had him working in the warehouse for a time I hired him when I got my big idea to sell some of the army supplies I wonder why he's snooping around the warehouse listen to the lone ranger brought to you by special recording at this same time the lone ranger a copyrighted feature of the lone ranger incorporated is produced by Kendall Campbell Muir incorporated the part of the lone ranger is played by Bracebeamer your announcer Fred Floyd