 With his faithful Indian companion, Tonto, the daring and resourceful mask 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 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 big boat. I am Silver! Barnaby Boggs had a brand new wagon and a brand new medicine to sell. It was a big wagon painted red with letters in gold two feet high that spelled out Barnaby Boggs' eradicator. The wagon was parked beneath a shady tree near Waterford. Boggs' red faced and sweating was trying to adjust the rear section of the wagon, which dropped down to make a platform for the show that would begin in a couple of hours. Boggs was too busy to notice a masked man and an Indian whose horses made hardly a sound on the soft grass as they approached and halted. Oh, that should hold it. Probably will. Huh? Who said that? Well, as I live and breathe. Hello Barnaby. My masked friend, Antonto, I do declare I'm glad to see you. Yes indeed, mighty glad. How? Back to your old Skintland game again, huh? Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. Now, those are harsh words. Skintland game indeed. Let's see. Rainmaker, mind reader, medicine man. I thought you'd reformed. Oh, I have. I'm on the level now. So help me, I am. What's that stuff you're selling? Boggs' eradicator. Take stains off walls and woodwork. It's the housewife's friend. On top of that, it eradicates warts and molds and freckles. It'll beach out tan and tattoo marks. It'll, it's fire. All right, Barnaby. But remember, you gave me your word, you'd sell no more patent medicines that do more harm than good. Oh, I'm, I'm through with that life, my friend. And no more skin games with cards, and no more that rainmaking game. On my solemn oath as I stand here, I wouldn't think of such a thing. No sirree, my friend. I'd give you my word. My sacred pledge. Don't I see a couple of kegs of gunpowder in that wagon? And a cannon? That's what you use for rainmaking. Oh, oh, those, those items. Yes, those items. Oh, I... Don't let me catch you collecting money for rainmaking. I'll try not to let you, but you probably will. I've had bad luck, yes, indeed. Muddy luck has dogged my footsteps all the way. Well, just last night, my platform broke down. Busted the leg of my chief attraction. Deadshot Dudley. Got nothing left but a banjo player. He's no good. Deadshot Dudley? A sharpshooter. Oh? He'd fire from the hip with either hand and hit a thin dime tossed up into the air. But never mind, my woes. Tell me about yourself and Tonto. My, but I'm glad to see you two. What are you doing in these parts? Well, Barnaby, we found a belt buckle. Huh? Yes, a silver one. On the back was a name, uh, Banderman. A killer who's been wanted by the law for five years. But what brought you here? The buckle was in an empty wallet. The wallet had the name of the western outfitting company stamped in the leather. Well, I say that's a firm right here in Waterford. Yes, that's right. How don't I thought Banderman might be living in Waterford using a different name. He kept the valuable buckle, but didn't wear it for fear it would be recognized. Hmm, likely. Likely. What's he look like? Oh, just an ordinary man. Medium size, bald head. You know him if you saw him? Maybe not. He's probably changed a lot in five years. Not much to identify him by. His name is Tattooed on his left forearm. Tattooed, you say? Uh-huh. Dangers for him to carry around. Say, if he's near here, as you think, and wants to get by with a new name, wouldn't he want to get rid of that tattoo? Yes. Boggs Eradicator. Boggs? You have an idea there. He'd surely buy at least one bottle of the Boggs Eradicator in the hope of getting rid of that tattoo. Will your stain remover do this? Uh, well... Boggs, uh, tonight I want to be who I can watch everyone who buys the Eradicator. You might sit inside my wagon. Uh, you said you'd lost your sharpshooter. Good old dead shot, Dudley. Well, you have a new sharpshooter. Huh? Yes, an Indian who fires from either hip and knocks dimes out of the air. What, you mean Tando? I mean myself. With my skin darkened. I'll wear Tando's buckskin. You! Oh, my! Do I get the job? Do you get it? Oh, my friend! Tonight we'll show that townsmen are shooting such as they never saw before. That evening found a crowd of townsmen assembled to watch Boggs show. The rear platform of the wagon was lighted by coal oil flares. There was a short program by a banjo player. Then a demonstration of sharpshooting. Despite the flickering light, a tall man who looked like an Indian fired from the hip and hit coin after coin that was tossed into the air. No one but Boggs and Tando, who sat on the platform, knew that the marksman was the lone ranger in disguise. Now, now that's all for now, my friend. We'll see more of Chief Rainwater's skill in just a moment. Now, first I want to do each and every one of you a favor. I say, my friends, I want to do you a favor. You, Gents, in the last row, just a minute. Don't leave now. Sorry, Boggs, we got important business. Stacey's without his sheep. They're running wild over the range. But come on, boys, we got to teach Stacey a lesson. Gents, Gents, just a minute now. Where? Rat my luck. Look at those mendicamp. They seem to be in a hurry, Boggs. Something about Stacey's sheep. Why should Stacey spoil my show? Oh, Sheriff, I say there, Sheriff. Yeah, you seem to have lost your crowd, Boggs. But, Sheriff, Stacey'll have tougher luck than you got. Who is Stacey? Sheep man. And I might say his sheep would be better off in a wolf pack than Stacey is in the cattle country. He came here to raise sheep. Rancher's Association told him it'd be all right if he kept them fenced off the range. Won't he keep them off the range? This is the third time he's let them out to graze on cattle land. His darn sheep will spoil the range. They eat too close and kill off the grass. I'm sorry for Stacey, but he's had plenty of warnings. Ruin my night's trade. Worst is none too good for him. Say, Tondo, where's our friend? I thought he was sitting there beside you. Well, him going side wagon changed clothes. Put on mask. We go now. Where are you going? Right north. Stacey need help. Lone Ranger come when dressed. You're going to help, Stacey? That's what Lone Ranger said. The Lone Ranger had changed from Indian buckskins to his own familiar clothes. He put on his mask without stopping to wash off the stain that darkened his skin to the complexion of an Indian. Then he rode north. Meanwhile, Tondo had gone to the Stacey ranch and summarized the situation. He backtracked to meet the Lone Ranger. What's the story, Tondo? I hear gunfire. All sheep come this way fast. Ranchers in back of sheep. Chase them with guns. I just scattered them. Not right. You look yonder. Here come sheep. When the mask man saw the running herd in the moonlight a quarter of a mile away, he made a quick decision. Tondo, if we can turn the leading sheep, the rest will follow. Not right. We'll turn them in a wide circle back to the ranch. Come on, Tondo! The Lone Ranger and Tondo raced ahead until they met the oncoming sheep. Then, by expert horsemanship, they turned the leaders to one side. Keep them close back, Tondo! Keep them close! The leader of the ranchers' association was a man named Jackson. He and three of his cowhands rode directly in back of the stampeding sheep, firing guns into the flock. The sheep are going back to Stacey's place. I thought for sure we'd scatter that flock and break, Stacey. Tough luck, boss. Well, I've got another plan worked out. You three listen closely. All right. You start with, Gimp. You go get the sheriff, ask him to meet me at Stacey's house. Then go to our place and wait for me. Right. Wag? Yeah. You sneak into Stacey's tool shed, get a couple of his spades. All right. Squint, you go to that medicine man's wagon. Barnaby Bog? The same. He used to be a rainmaker. He still got some gunpowder in the wagon. I saw it there. Fill a saddlebag with it. Take it to the ranch and wait there for me and Gimp. When I get home, I'll tell you how to use it. After turning back the sheep, the lone ranger and tunnel watched from a distance to be sure Stacey and his men got the flock safely inside the fence. They waited then until they saw that the cut fence was repaired. Leave Carson Silver here at Ground Hitch Tunnel. We'll go to the house and talk to Stacey. Ah. There was a man named Stacey in a town where a banditman committed most of his crimes. I want to see if this is the same fellow. Look, Kimitabi. The man meet near Stacey's house. Hmm. Well, we'll move close and wait until they leave. Ruth Stacey and her husband were seated in the kitchen unaware that Jackson and the sheriff had met outside the house. Well, Ruth, we didn't lose too many sheep. Jim, the fence was cut again. Yeah, just like the other times. I wish I knew who was doing it. You must have some friends, Jim. It wasn't your men who turned back the stampede. Come in. Oh, hello, Sheriff. Jackson, you here. Looks that way, don't it? Evening, Stacey. How do you miss us, Stacey? Good evening, Sheriff. Leave the door open, Sheriff. Jackson here will need fresh air. That's the thanks I get for turning back your sheep. You turning back? Me and my cowhands. We hadn't done it. The ranchers would have driven those woollies so far you'd never see them again. But get this, Stacey. I'm speaking for the ranchers association. I brought the sheriff to witness what I say. Well... The next time you turn your sheep out in the open range it'll be the last time. Now, hold on, Jackson. I didn't turn them out. You said that before. And I say it again. Someone keeps cutting my wire. You accuse me of cutting the fence wire? I didn't say that. All I know is someone is cutting it. Stacey, you just resent the fact that you weren't made welcome in these parts. And to get square with us ranchers, you're letting out your sheep to kill off our grasslands. You've done it three times. I have not. You've had your last warning, Stacey. Next time your sheep are on the range we'll come here for you. We'll come geared for action. That's official. Come on, Sheriff. Well, good night, folks. Good night, Sheriff. Sheriff, he hates cattlemen. Me in particular. See the way he looked at me? I didn't notice. There was poison in his face. I'm sure gonna be unguarded against some underhanded trick. If he does anything to you, Jackson, just let me know. Sure will. See you again. Get up there. Come on, get up. Get up there. The lone ranger and tato standing in the darkness had heard the conversation through the open door. They watched the sheriff and Jackson right away. Hello. I got back to our horses. You not calling, Stacey? No, I've changed my mind. Did you hear Jackson claim credit for turning back the sheep? Uh, me hear him. Him lie. Yes, Jackson lied. There was a ring of honesty in Stacey's voice. Ah. Well, you're not talk to Stacey. I'd rather talk to Jackson. Me hear horses. We'll go back and see Barnaby Boggs. Then I'll go on to Jackson's ranch. At that time, you'll be home. Easy, sir. Call up. 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 continue our story. After leaving Stacey's sheep ranch, the lone ranger and Tonto rode back to the wagon of Barnaby Boggs. Oh, yes. As we dismounted near the big red wagon, they heard a groan. Oh, my. That come from wagons. Boggs, come on, Tonto. We'll see what's the matter with him. Uh-huh. The back of wagon's still open. Yes. He has lamps in here. Strike a match and light one. He do it. Oh, no. Don't hit me again. Don't do it. Boggs, what happened? My head, my pork, beaten head. Here, light. Put it down here, Tonto. Uh-huh. Let me look at your head, Boggs. Oh. Sorry. I'll never be the same again. You'll be all right. Oh, me. Who'd do such a foul deed to a peace-loving man? I've never hurt anyone. Oh, my luck. The skin's not broken. Tell me what happened. I don't know what happened. I was sitting alone in the dark. Yes, I was dozing. Someone crept behind my back. Then there were stars, millions of them. Where'd you come from? Stacey's ranch. I went... Boggs. You've been using gunpowder? Gunpowder? No. Look, one of those cakes has been opened. Ah. Here, powders spilt in slaughter. What? Robbed. I've been robbed. This scoundrel who cracked my head stole my powder. That cake was full. Now it's half empty. Anything else going? I can't tell. At first glance, I'd say nothing has been disturbed. Just the powder. Oh, who you had that powder? Well, I guess everyone in town could have known it. It's in plain view when the platform of my wagon is lowered. I wonder if the theft of that powder isn't any way connected with the trouble at Stacey's place. Who can tell? Someone might have let out Stacey's sheep just so there'd be no one around this wagon. To clear the way for the assault and robbery, eh? We'll talk about your case later. Right now I'm going to call on Jackson. Why? I want to ask him a few questions about the ranch's association. I also want to find out why he lied and told Stacey that he turned back the sheep. Thought he'd better stay here with Boggs. Ah, me too. But wait, you're a face beneath that mask. You still wear a stain that makes you look like an Indian. If you had a call on Jackson... It takes quite a while to wash away the stain. I haven't the time. Jackson will have to take me as I am. I'll be back in an hour at the most. And we'll be waiting for you. Jesus, let me follow. One, two, three. The Lone Ranger already knew the location of the Jackson ranch. He approached the buildings from the rear. When he saw two men working with spades in the moonlight near the barn, he stopped his horse some distance away and proceeded on foot. I wish Jackson had a different scheme. We'll be in bad for comes out that we set this blast. Just be half as bad as it be if the truth came out about Jackson. If that happens, we're all gone geese. Why don't you try some of that Boggs Eradicator? Maybe that'll take off the tattoo mark. Don't argue with the boss's plans. It's like they're fuses, we're told. Even if he does get Stacy lynched, how does he know that someone else won't come here like Stacy, who might see the tattoo on his arm and know what it means? I like that fuse, myself. Get him up. Hey, what's that? It's Wags. I got you covered, walk straight ahead. Wags, capture someone. Look what I got, boys. The jam that was listening to you two from around the corner of the barn. And he's messed. Well, mister, what have you got to say for yourself? Me? No talk. Take his gun. Sure. Get him. I caught him flat-footed. I suppose you jugheads had plenty to say about the boss's plan. If this gent heard us, he heard plenty. I'll take that mask off and see who he is. Yeah. Well, turn him around so the moon shines on his face. Hey, I know this critter. He's a red-skinned who was shot shooting in the medicine show. Huh? He works for Boggs. So that's it. Squint, you must have left tracks for him to follow when you got that powder. Time up. We'll hold him in the old shed and we'll see what Jackson wants to do with him. A time. Why the blast? Tied hand and foot, the lone ranger lay in an old shed some distance from the Jackson barn. There was just one thing for which he could be grateful. He had been wearing the Indian disguise on his face beneath the mask. The secret of his true identity was still safe. But for how long? He was pondering this when the blast went off. There was a sheet of flame and a shattering force of air that knocked down one corner of the barn. Jackson was in the cafe. Hey, boss! Hey, boss! Mr. Jackson! Jackson, that's one of your men. Yeah, what's the matter, Weg? An explosion. Someone blew up your barn. Yep, Stacey had a hand on that. Come on, boys. Let's go with Jackson and see what happens. Too much damage, Jackson. You can repair the barn. Yeah, I'm lucky you didn't catch fire. Who'd do a trick like this? Hey, Mr. Stacey! I found a couple of spades over there. Spades? Sure. Here they are. They've got a knife. What? They've got a name on them. Who's name? A sheep man, Stacey. He didn't want it. His men set that plan. Well, like, come on, boys. We'll get Stacey down. We take the sheriff to his place and get him for keeps. Let's get to the horse. Come on. Hey, Weg. Did you get a chance to tell Jackson about the mass that he needed to be captured? Yeah, I can't do anything about him now. He's got to ride to Stacey's place with the others. He says for you and Gimp to stay here and guard the prisoner until he comes back. Right. Jackson and the other ranchers quickly found the sheriff who listened to the story of the blast, looked at the spades with Stacey's name on them, then joined the group who rode to the ranch of the sheep man. While the hour was late, there were still lights burning in Jim Stacey's home. We can't all go in there. Me and Jackson will go inside. You two, Weg, bring the spades. All right, Sheriff. You can come along, Finch. Right. The rest of you wait here outside. All right. Hey there. There's Stacey's door. What's going on? What do you all want here? We're coming to speak to you, Stacey. What? Again, Sheriff? You know why we're here, Stacey. I do not. Stacey, take a look at those two spades. He's here. Do you recognize them? But... They're mine. My name's under the handles. You left them near my place when you blew up my barn. What are you trying to say, Jackson? I didn't blow up your barn. I haven't been out the house since the last time you were here. Hey, that proves it. How'd you know the barn was blown up since then? Well, I... Well, if you'd been blown up earlier, you'd have said something when you were here earlier. Stacey, it looks like the evidence is against you. Sheriff, listen to me. Jim hasn't been out of the house. Naturally, you'd alibi her, Mrs. Stacey. Indeed. I'll have to ask you to come along, Stacey. We'll hear what you've got to say in court. You're going to jail me on Jackson's say so? Those spades... You can't do it, Sheriff. Those ranchers will bust me out and lynch me. Jackson will see to that he's hated me from the start. You hear that, Sheriff? He figures I hate him. That's why he blew up the barn. He wanted to hurt me. Come along, Stacey. There's been nothing but trouble ever since you came to these parts. Don't take him, Sheriff. They will lynch you. Sorry, ma'am. Oh, wait, Sheriff. Jackson's lying. Don't make me use force. Hey, something's going on outside. Open the door and see what's here. Hey. He's mad. Hey, what the hell still all of you? Hey, this man. Quiet! You two bogs and close the door. Bogs? You here? What the... You're covered. I'll lower my guns when I've cleared up a couple of points. Sheriff, you needn't bother to arrest Jim Stacey. No. Who are you? What's that mask mean? I'll answer the first question. I'm one of the men who turned back Stacey's sheep. That's not true. The engineer at the door was with me. I'll tell you who I got here. I was captured by two of Jackson's men. They held me in the shed. I'd still be there if Tottenham and Bogs hadn't expected me to join them and came looking for me. I'm not going to destroy the truth. Jackson, you'll find your pals gimp and squint tied in the shed just as I was. Oh, yeah. Hold it. Don't go for a gun. I have more to say. Sheriff, I was captured by that man. I think he's called Wag. Well, I was watching squint and gimp put the blasting powder near the Jackson barn. How did they stole from my wagon? You mean to say my own men? Yes. They were using spades. They had stolen from Stacey's barn. Those spades on the floor. You hear that, Sheriff? That clears me. What's the word of a mask man mean? You'll find out in a minute, Jackson. You wanted to make trouble for Stacey. You wanted to get him away from here. Failing in that, you wanted to get him lynched. It's a lie. I know your knife. You can't like me, Sheriff. No one is going to knife you, Jackson. For a number of years, there have been handbills out for a killer named Banderman. Yeah? The name's familiar. Banderman dropped out of sight. He changed his name, bought a ranch with the money accumulated through his crimes, and settled down. Then a man named Stacey came to the vicinity. I knew Banderman. I knew him. Yes, Stacey. Yes. You knew him as a thin, bald-headed man with a tattoo mark on his forearm. You didn't recognize him after he put on some weight and a wig, but you would have known him if you'd ever seen his tattooed forearm. That's what he was afraid of. That's why he didn't want you around. What? You mean... Oh, no. Quiet. Tell the rest, mess man. That's all there is. Oh, no. Cut away Jackson's sleeves. I won't let you... Why, get him. Right, boss. I'll help you. Borgs, pick up the gunwag drops. I got it. You let go of me. Hold him, Stacey. Hold him. Now, that shirt sleeve, Tutto. Sheriff, there's the tattoo. His own name, Banderman. So that's who you are, Jackson. And for the final proof, Banderman, let's have that wig. Are you... You dirty killer now, I recognize you. Baldie Banderman. Well, this sort of changes the name of the man I take prisoner. Banderman's three ranch hands are as guilty as he is. Yep. You come along with me, wag. Well, Stacey, I... I guess we all misjudged you. I can't blame you for that, Finch. Well, from now on, your life around here will be easier. I reckon we all feel we've got to make enough to do for you. We're through here, Tutto. Hey, wait a minute. You'll see what you're wagging, Borgs. Now, it's your move, Banderman. Stacey, you sure are lucky to have that masked Indian on your side. Indian? Yeah, Borgs. I can see his copper-colored chin below that mask. He's an Indian. Same as the one he called Tonto. You're not so smart, Sheriff. He's wearing a stain on his face so as he can sharpshoot in my show. I called him a chief rainwater. I reckon he won't act no more, though. His job in these parts is done. So he's not an Indian, you old skin-plant. India in my eye. He's the lone ranger. Are you still there? This is a feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated, created and produced by George W. Trendle and directed by Charles D. Livingston. Tonight's story was written by Fran Stryker. The part of the Lone Ranger is played by Brace Beamer.