 Why, rehorso the speed of light, a cloud of dust and a hearty high old silver, the lone ranger. With his faithful Indian companion, Tonto, the daring and resourceful masked rider of the planes 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 the thrilling days of yesteryear. From out of the path come the thundery hoof beats the great horse Silver. The lone ranger rides again. From the cover of a huge boulder, Tonto and the lone ranger scan the trail to San Pablo, holding their horses motionless. Behind them the sun had just risen above the Marado Mountains. In the distance ahead, a bell tolled, calling the converts among the desert-dwelling Hopi Indians to worship at some isolated mission. As the solemn sounds rolled out across the wastelands, Tonto tensed in his saddle. Look, Kimosabi, all riders cross hill over there. Them come from direction the bell. Yes, I see them, Tonto. They're turning this way. Ah, first two riders lead others' horses. Yes, I see. The others are Indians and they're tied to their ponies. Maybe lawmen take prisoners. We'll soon see. Stay here and keep me covered. Them get plenty close now. Come on, Silver. Hold on, you fellows, go, Silver. Very boy. Easy. Now, Peter's a man, man. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. What are you stopping us for, stranger? I want to know what you're doing with those Indians. We're taking them to jail. Don't lie. We're headed away from town. Those Indians are horse thieves. Me, lame wolf. No horse thief. Me and brother, plenty good Christians. Us on way to mission when Whiteman capture us. You're going to take his word against mine? I'm going to take all of you to the mission. No, you won't. Drill him, Luke. Drop that gun up. Help me, Pete. He's breaking my arm. Drop it. There goes my gun on the ground. Light up, mister. I'm getting out of here. I've still got you, Luke. Hello. You want me to take these fellas and... No, no. We can get him later if we want him. Ah, him heading to San Pablo. Now, Luke, you've got your name. Talk fast and straight. You heard what Pete said about the Indians? You're a fool to protect Pete. He deserted you. Yeah, the yellow dog. And he got me into this. Where does Pete hang out? At the Casa de Oro Cantina in San Pablo. Now, look, man, let's make a deal. I'll spill everything I know. Ah, rustling Indians isn't like cattle rustling. Rustling Indians? Pato, release the two Hopi's and tie up this fellow. Ah, me do that, Pato. Now, where we take prisoner? We'll leave him at the mission. The United States Marshal can pick him up there after we've heard his story. And what we do then? Right on to San Pablo. That fellow Pete may be looking for a new partner. You can pass yourself off as a renegade Apache. You've got to know what's behind this. Meanwhile, in the town of San Pablo, a young woman, whose dress and manner marked her as a new arrival from the East, knocked timidly on the door of the United States Marshal's office. Come in, come in. I don't open no doors. Well, bless me, I'll need it. Are you John Worth, the Marshal? That's me, miss, and I'm mighty sore. I was so huffy. Please take this chair. Thank you, Marshal. My name is Nancy Drake. And I want you to help me find my father, Tom Drake, the mining engineer. I'm afraid I don't know him, miss. Oh, but you must. This town isn't big. And in his last letter, he said he'd found something good here. He meant a good job, I suppose. Miss Drake, there's an area of mine and operation in this part of the territory, so we can't be mining. I can't understand it. His last letter had a San Pablo postmark. When did he write it? Four months ago. I wrote and wrote, but he didn't answer. So finally I came out here. Maybe a dad went prospecting. There's free gold in the desert and maybe up in the marauders. This is the jumping-off place for lots of prospectors. Even so, he should have returned by this time. Now, look, miss, I'm sorry to say this, but all kinds of things can happen to a lone prospector. Things like what? Accidents. Murder, maybe. I know a dozen men who got swallowed up out yonder. Swallowed up? The Marado Mountains are treacherous. That's where most prospectors go looking for the Lost Spaniard. You're talking in riddles, Marshal. Well, the Lost Spaniard is a mine. One of them mines everybody's heard about, but nobody's seen. A legendary mine? That's it. Dad is too practical to go hunting such a thing. I'm not so sure, miss. I believe myself that there was such a mine. Your dad being a smart mining man may be figured out a way to find the old diggings. You may be right, but how can we search those mountains? Well, you got me stumped there. I can't go sashaying around looking for missing people. My job's to keep law and order, and it's a big job. Surely there must be something I can do myself. Well, now you might advertise for your dad in the San Pablo paper. I don't reckon it'll do any good, but once I found a stray horse that way. That night, Marshal worked while still in his office catching up on routine duties. As he thrummed through a new batch of reward circulars, the door swung open. A masked man whom he recognized from a meeting long before stood facing him. You! You're from Morn Rangers! I hope you remember me, Marshal Worth. I'm glad to see you again, but I know you didn't come here just to be sociable. If it's about rustling... It's a matter involving abduction and slavery. A gang is carrying Hopi Indians into a servitude somewhere. The Padre says that at least a hundred of his people have disappeared. You told me that too, but I didn't suspicion anything then. Engines are like kids, always wandering away. Could that many Hopis be pressed into working against their will without somebody reporting it to you? Well, there's just one place there can be. Somebody's found the lost Spaniard Mine. I can see no point in kidnapping Indians for work there, even if it has been rediscovered. I can figure that, mister. The railroad running into San Pablo has a land grant that takes in half of the Maradas. It's got the mineral rights too. Then somebody is mining on railroad land. That's why they've stolen the engines. They couldn't hire white labor and keep the doing secret. What is it, Marshal? I just remembered an Eastern girl that come in here today. Her dad's missing, and he's a mining engineer. During the week that followed, the Lone Ranger kept watch over the settlements of the Christian Indians. He met Tonto at a secret rendezvous and learned that the Indian had become acquainted with a breed called Pete. One night in the back room of the Casa de Oro Cantina. Howdy, Sharp. I thought you'd be alone, Pete. Well, this is Tonto, an Apache reservation jumper. He's a malo hombre. Tough as they make them. Looks like a man we could use. I suppose you want me to grab some more hopes, huh? That'll be sport for an Apache like Tonto. No, no, just Indians I want. Concerned with a girl called Nancy Drake. Maybe you saw her name in this week's paper. Sure. She's asking for information about her old man. She's from the East, but now she's started wearing a Western outfit. Every day she rides around asking questions about her father. She won't be hard to grab. Where do we deliver her? Bring her to the lost Spaniard might. The next day, Nancy urged her horse along the trail that links San Pablo with a hopy village's admission. Her route took her toward a forest of pear cacti from which a masked rider burst suddenly. A startled girl rained up. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. Please don't be frightened, Miss Drake. You know me? What do you want? Only to help you and bring a gang of outlaws to justice. But you're an outlaw yourself. You're magic. I have good reason for wearing it, there's. Marshall Worth may sometime tell you. Oh. I, Miss Drake, certain men are planning to abduct you tomorrow. But no one could collect ransom from me. I have only my father and he's missing. The scheme in some way involves your father and the lost Spaniard mind. And Marshall was right. He is there. It's probable that he's a prisoner under pressure to do something against his will. Otherwise, your kidnapping would serve no purpose. I've got to go to him. I'll get the Marshall. Marshall can do nothing as matters stand. Men search for years without finding the lost Spaniard. There's hardly a chance that anyone except the crooks who have the mind can reach it now without a guide. But I must, I must try to help him. There is one way to do it. Allow yourself to be kidnapped. Oh. That won't be as dangerous as it seems. One of the kidnappers will be an Indian friend of mine. He'll protect you while I follow your trail. All right. Then I'll let them take him. Pete, the breed, stood at the bar of the cantina, admiring his reflection in a cracked mirror. Plans for the abduction of Nancy Drake were complete and Tonto had slipped away for a final conference with the Lone Ranger. As Pete grinned proudly at himself, another face appeared beside his own. He whirled. Look. Where have you been? You know where I was when you let down the trail. You can't blame me for running. It was a smart thing to do. The mask man let you go? Let me go. He left me at the mission, tied up like a bronc in a blacksmith shop. I was lucky to get loose. What did you come here for? Maybe they're after you. I got to have money and a gun. Then I'll leave town. I don't know you or anything. Listen, Pete, I can tell you something that's worth money. You don't say. You know who that engine is that I saw you with before I come in here? He's my new partner. Pete, that Redskin is the mask man's sidekick. What? He was hiding when the mask man stopped us and you dusted out. Afterward, he'd come out and tied me up. What's his game? Him and the mask down there ought to get everybody who's had a hand in rustling Indians. I'll take care of that double crosser. He never had me fooled for a minute. Nobody can fool Pete. Get out of here, Luke. Come on. In accordance with instructions from the Lone Ranger, Nancy rode out of town the next morning. Every bush and rock held such menace for her that she was almost with relief that she saw two horsemen closing in on her. Hold that. Hold that. Get it down. Let me have those reins, woman. You're going with us. Get loose of my horse. You Indians should. Don't call me an Indian. Where are you taking me? Just on a little visit. But first get off that horse. Why, you tell her that, Pete. I don't want her getting away while I'm taking care of some other business. All right. Be there. There. I'm down. Oh, me still don't savvy, Pete. Then savvy is gone, you double crosser. Don't shoot him. Shut up, woman, and stand still. Why, you go loco, Pete. Sure, I'm crazy like a fox. Just keep your hands up while I take your knife and gun. I'll take them. You got dropped. Ah, you snooping red skin. I'll tie you up. Why are you tie me? You and the mask man took two Hopies away from me. Now you're taking the place of one of them. 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. To our story, Tonto was a prisoner doomed to slavery in the lost Spaniard mine. His capture left Nancy Drake at the mercy of Pete the breed. Using every trail covering trick known to man and animal, Pete drove the Indian and girl deeper and deeper into the Morado Mountains. Meanwhile, Cal Sharp entered one of a cluster of log cabins in the shore of a nameless lake near Mont Diablo. For a moment, the assayer stared at the gaunt bearded man who sat slumped on a packing case beside a barred window. Well, Drake, you change your mind? You can keep me locked up forever. I've done all I'm going to do to reopen the lost Spaniard. Ah, you fool. Yes, I am a fool. A fool for going into partnership with a crook. A crook? We found the mine. It's ours by right of discovery, even if the railroad does own the land. We could have made a deal with the railroad. Oh, what kind of a deal? The company would have hogged everything. That still doesn't make it right to steal the gold. There isn't any right or wrong up here at Mont Diablo. There's nothing but gold. You're a mining expert, and I need your help. Of course you do. You figured out that the lost Spaniard had been covered up by an earthquake? You said we'd look for evidence of a landslide. We found we're part of old Mont Diablo. It slipped down and damned up a creek, making a lake. Yes, and I look in at the old digging. It's under 100 feet of water. Listen, Drake, that drainage tunnel that you planned is almost finished. We're just about ready to let the water out of the lake and get the gold. That doesn't interest me. All I want from you is a little advice. And the answer is still no. Look out the window. I'm looking. I see your slave hunters have captured another Indian. See that girl? What's she doing here? That's your daughter. Nancy, I can't believe it. She came to San Pablo looking for you. What happens to her now is your responsibility. The Lone Ranger reached Sharp's camp soon after moonrise. He scouted the place on foot and soon learned the gang of hired gunmen had it under guard. As yet unaware of Tonto's plight, he signaled for the Indian to join him imitating the haul of a wolf. Tonto penned an aborbed wire stockade with the captive Hopi's heard the signal. He raised his voice in a loud chant. His tuneless song, carrying far in the thin mountain air, drew the attention of two guards. What's the record, Joe? Ah, nothing, Max. Just that new Indian tunnel whoop into himself. He's got a voice like a burl. Regan, he's singing an engine death song. Yeah, he won't live long and rate the others a dime. Yeah, he won't need him much longer. Tunnel's almost done. Joe, I don't like going into that hole anymore. The engines are digging too close to the lake. Ah, it's still safe. Safe, my eye. That leak ever breaks through, us guards will get drowned along with the engines. Maybe you're right. What are we going to do about it? Keep our eyes open, be ready to run. That's a death song all right. It'd kill anyone. Yeah, shut up, you pesky red skin. Well, I feel better. Hear that, Max? He set the wolves a howling. Tunnel's chant, intoned in a tribal tongue with which the lone ranger was familiar, gave the masked man a full report of what had happened and told him where the guards were stationed. Forearmed with such knowledge, he cautiously worked his way toward the stockade. Meanwhile, inside the small cabin, Cal Sharp talked to Nancy and her father. Drake, I want that drainage tunnel opened up. How far have you got with it? It must be within 20 feet of the water. It'll be a touchy job to blow out what remains. Touchy or not, you've got to handle it. And listen, Sharp, you're working in a curious rock formation. The rock you've been excavating is soft. Right above the tunnel, the stratum is hard, but thin. I know it, and I know too that a heavy blast might make the whole works cave in. A collapse of the tunnel could start a landslide. How... how much of a landslide? The entire west shoulder of Mount Diablo might give away. I wouldn't have to use powder if the guards that keep those Indians working till the lake broke through. You've drowned them all? What of it? Drake, remember what I said about your daughter? You'll be ready to work tomorrow. A few minutes later, Pete, the breed, swaggered up to the gate of the stockade and hailed the guard. Hey, Joe, let me in. What do you want, Pete? Get another engine for us? No, I want that one back that I brought him today. That's Tonto, fella, huh? Sharp wouldn't pay for him. Said he didn't need any more redskins. You're out $100. He's my property, and I want him pronto. All right. As the guards searched for Tonto among the sleeping Indians, a dark form rose from the ground up. A dark form rose from the ground outside the fence, instantly attracting Pete's attention. What? He drew his gun with a startled yell. Hey, Joe, a prisoner is loose. I'll get him. Stop you. I'll let you have it. The chase took Pete away from the stockade and up a rocky slope. There, his instinct to kill overcame his natural cunning, and he hauled it to reload his gun. Two ladies heard the whistle of a laryt that sneaked out of the shadows, pinioning his arms and jerking him from his feet. Oh! I'll take that gun, Pete. I'll get up. Don't yell. It's you, the mask man. I thought... I know what you thought. I was outside the fence giving Tonto some instructions when we overheard you. I'll get going. The captive Indians were at work in the tunnel the next morning. Choking clouds of stone dust filled the stagnant air, reducing the light of a few scattered lanterns to a dim glow and shadowing the movements of the hungry Hopes. The gunmen who guarded them numbered almost a score. Those who had been on night watch lay rolled in blankets near the open end of the tunnel. The others stood well back from the prisoners, nervously toying with scatter guns and black snake whips as they discussed the project. Sharp thinks he can pick up gold by the bucket when he cries up the lake. He's local, if you ask me. I've been looking for gold in here. There's nothing but stone you can press with your feet. What's going on back there? Get to work back there. I'll see. What's wrong? The lake's breaking through. The rock will wash out like sand. We'll drown like rats. Let's get out of here. Run fellas, run, the plug's out. The Indians are coming. Let them come, get out of my way. As the gunmen stampeded toward the tunnel's entrance, the lone ranger charged up to block their escape. Move, move, move. Stop you men, stop, bro, come on. With the mask man's bullets plowing up dust at their feet and the glare of the sun momentarily blinding them, the guards wavered and jammed against each other. A moment later they were pinned to the tunnel walls by howling Hopes who disarmed them. Follow her, I'll see here, King of Sabi. Have the Hopes bring the white men out. Yeah, how? No tough, me here. I'm worried. Spast them through, I saw it. You're perfectly safe where you are, but you saw the stream running out of a barrel of drinking water. I had tunnel barrier in the broken rocks. They've been tricked. Your own fear deceived you. Hello, take everyone to the box canyon behind Mount Diablo. You'll find Pete there. Me, Sabi. And what you do now? I'm going to get Kal's sharp and release the drakes. Mosul! The lone ranger kept out of sight while he cut out around the camp. It was his aim to forestall any attempt by Sharp to escape in the direction of San Pablo as he reached a point which put the cabins between himself and the lake. He saw Sharp leaving the corral with Nancy and her father. The three were mounted. The masked man threw silver into a headlong rush to intercept him. Mosul! Come on, big fellow! Sharp seeing the masked man, raced ahead and disappeared into the mall of the tunnel. Too desperate to care any longer whether he had Drake's help. Drake turned his horse and galloped back with his daughter. Ho, ho, ho, ho! Thank you, mister. If you hadn't come in time... Why didn't Sharp trap himself by going into that tunnel? He's completely mad. And he has a lot of blasting potting. I'll go after him. Steady silver. He's done it! He's blown up the tunnel. Look up there! Look at the mountain. It's moving! Right for your life, man's man. There's a landslide coming. Give me the girl. My horse is stronger. There, Miss Drake. I'll keep a firm hold. I'm ready. Get up there. One, two, three! As the lone ranger led the race for safety, the face of Montevideo seemed to crack into a demonic grin, each second widening the jagged figure of which the landslide had begun. Below the break, a slowly moving mass of earth and rock gave forth an ominous rumble. We've got to get a mile away, a mile away and a hundred feet above lake levels. Head for that hill over there. Horses can climb it. Behind the riders, huge boulders began to bounce down the mountainside and bombard the lake, raising geysers where they fell and filling the air with spray. Then the lowest and heaviest edge of the slide gave way and tumbled into the water. The lake shrank back from it and a mighty wave swept the shores, lifting sharp cabins from the ground and scattering their logs like matches. Other waves drove even farther and soon the displaced lake began to pour into every dry wash around it. At points the masked man and his friends were forced to walk their horses too far and spelly deep. When the horses finally struggled out on dry ground, the gigantic natural forces let loose by a single can of powder were spent. A last boulder catapulted from month Diablo's dust-clouded heights. Then the riders turned to look back upon a strangely altered landscape. Oh, sir, oh, oh. We made it. Thanks to the masked man. Let me help you down, Miss Drake. Thank you. There you are. We must be the only survivors. No, the Indians and sharps gunmen are safe on the other side of the mountain. What will you do about them? Marshal Worth will be here soon. I left a message telling him that I was on Pete's trail, asking him to follow. I marked the route for him. Oh, look. There comes Tondo. Yes. The Marshal and his deputies are right behind him. Oh, Scott, open up. Open up. Hello, how did you get here? Let me come back after Scout Kimosabi. Find him in Corral. Then Mountain Fall Park. Let me get way, bloody fast. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. Howdy, folks. I didn't figure to find any of you alive after that mountain shed its hide. Well, if it hadn't been for our friend, we'd have been buried down there in a hell-sharp. So he cheated the Lord, didn't he? Not as much as he cheated himself, Marshal. Finding the lost Spaniard did something to his mind. Well, I reckon the lost Spaniard is lost again. Forever, I hope. Oh, Dad, let's thank the Masked Man and Tondo before they leave. Yes. For they're gone already. That's the way the Masked Man works, Miss. Who is he, anyhow? Well, I guess it's all right to tell you now. The Lone Ranger. You have just heard is a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated.