 By special recording, General Mills, makers of wheaties, breakfast of champions, and Cheerios, the old cereal ready to eat, presents The Lone Ranger! The fiery horse with the speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hockey-hio silver! The Lone Ranger! With his faithful Indian companion total, the daring and resourceful masquerader 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, I'm wondering who speaks of the great horse Silver! The Lone Ranger rides again! Lone Silver! That's who we call him! Lone Silver! Let cowboy ride that blunt! Who is it, Lone Ranger? That's champion Bob Burrows. What can you say in that saddle? Well, he sure makes it look easy. Well, you know it isn't. Well, busting is hard to do. Harder to learn. Take Bob Burrows. I know he started riding as a youngster. He took his share of spills, but he kept at it. And he kept in condition, including eating his wheaties. In fact, now that Bob Burrows is a champion, he still eats wheaties. Plenty of practice, plenty of the right food. That's sound advice for anyone hoping to be a champion. It surely is, Lone Ranger, because champions are made, not born. And there's a good, solid reason why wheaties can give you the energy to go a long, long way. It's this. There's a whole kernel of wheat in every wheatie's flake, a whole kernel of wheat, the cereal grain that's famous for energy. Champions are made, not born. Get on your way with Wheaties. Breakfast of champions. It was press day at the Modak City News, and Inky, the 14-year-old adopted son of editor Tom Bentz, was busy sweeping the floor of the office. Tom's wife, Hilda, worked at a nearby desk, while Tom himself labored in the back room to keep the press operating. Inky looked up at the door opened, and saw Toddler and them, the houseboy from Mohanck's Hotel. Ah, Toddler! Lord! How are we doing? It's great to see you, Toddler. Where's the Lone Ranger? I came with Marshall Jim Frazier. I heard him say he's looking for an escape convict named Deke Jones. Ah. We think Jones near Modak City. This is Dan. Mohanck sent me to pick up the paper you're contributing to the rummage sale. It's there on the counter, Ned. See? Someone is to come in here. I know what the timer looks like. Ah. We know him. Him outlaw named Sid Carson. An outlaw? Not outlaw now. Him served time in jail. I'd like to see the editor of this newspaper, right? Hey! You're a torn home, that's right. You and your mass cringe here, me. Ah. You go straight now? He had dark on right. Did I hear someone ask for the editor? I ask for you, if you're the editor. Here I am. Maybe you'll run an ad for a shaven mug. A shaven mug, yes. Here's a special one. Tell where there's $100,000 worth of gold to be found. Down the whole lawn. Pete stole the gold 15 years ago, and hid it somewhere near Modak City. Stolen gold, eh? Well, it was stolen from Mexican revolutionists. Their property was discovered, and they went into hiding. Right now, that gold belongs to whoever finds it, and I'll split with the man who helps me. You say the gold's hidden near here? Yes. Brother Pete hid it, and joined my other brothers, and soon after that, they were caught in jails. The lawn rangers caught me. I went to prison in California. Where are your brothers now? Hank went to the gallows. Pete got life in territorial prisons. Jed was turned over to the law in California. He was sentenced to the same prison I was. Now, me here about captured a gang. Yeah, Jed was killed trying to burp out of prison. But he'd already told me about Pete's gold. When were you released? A couple of months ago. I went to territorial prison to see Pete. Did he tell you about the gold? No, he couldn't. The guards might overhear this talk. But Pete's cellmate was a trustee who painted things on glass in China. On visiting days, he sold his work outside the prison gate. That's one of the privileges of being a trustee. Pete told me that he had the trustee paint a picture of our old homestead on this shaven mug. He said the picture even showed the old bull in the pasture. What about it? We never had a homestead. The picture tells where the gold's hidden. Before I could buy the mug, some other visitor got it. Two days later, Pete died. But who bought the mug? The trustee set his shoulder to a peddler. I followed the critter this far, but have lost his trail. Now I'm broke. Can't go any further without help. Why did you come to me? I heard that you were on the level. I trust you. Well, thanks. A mug might turn up if you run an ad saying it's a keepsake. Well, think about it, Jed. Meanwhile, here's five dollars. Get yourself a good meal. Well, thanks, thanks a lot. Sure, use a meal. So long, engine. Howdy, old friend. Don't forget to run the ad for the mug. The old Friday. Don't you believe what it's said, Tom? Of course not. Is it gone, Tom? Yes, it is. He told us all about a fortune in hidden gold. If you were to take that station and add him our hang for the rummage stand, you'd better get going. Yes, I'm going right now. So long, you keep seeing him, Ed. But don't tell anyone about the gold. Don't worry. I'll be quiet. There's no need for secrecy, Ed. But, Tom, we don't want everyone to find out about that buried treasure. What's this talk about buried treasure? Oh, forget it, Ed. Oh, I'm simply just telling you a good story. I believe him. At your age, I might have believed him, too, Ed. Here's a copy of the paper for the Lone Ranger, Tonto. The ink's still wet. Let me take it to him. Oh, Ed. I'm going with you, Tonto. I'd like to talk to the masked man about that escape convict he's looking for. The escape convict named Deke Jones had found shelter in Ayspenser's Cafe in Mordoxity, a window of a second floor bedroom that served as a hideout. The freshly-shaven fugitive looked into the street. Ayspenser stood beside him, scowling. Deke, what started a smart jet like you on a treasure hunt? I was in the prison hospital, Ays, bunking next to Pete Carson when he died. While he was delirious, he mistook me for his brother, Sith. He told me to be sure to get a hold of the shaven mug his cellmate painted. The picture on the mug tells where to find a hundred thousand dollars in buried gold. You believe that? I found out, Sith, I had to buy the mug from the trustee, but it had already been sold to a peddler. The trustee said, Sith, ask a lot of questions about the fella who bought it. Oh, I broke out of prison, figuring the risk was worth it if I could find the gold and clear out of the country. And I finally traced the peddler who bought it to Modak City. Well, that's why you turned up here. Sith Carson's in town for the same reason. I was watching from this window when he went into the newspaper office. He came out a few minutes ago and headed for my Hank's hotel. You think he saw the mug? There's only one way to find out. I'll split that gold with you if you'll help me get it. All right. What about old Sith Carson? If he saw that mug, he'll kill him if we have to to get it. Now, go to the Henry house before he leaves the place. But you better go iron in case of trouble. I am ironed. Oh, sneak on that. That's the easiest way to take a man by surprise. I'll if you shoot. Make sure Carson doesn't live to talk. Don't worry. I'll output my mech in a moose. The curtain falls on the first act of our lone ranger adventure. Before the next exciting scene, please permit us to pause for just a few moments. Yes, sir. Get on your way with Wheaties. It's good to know you can make something out of yourself, and you can because champions are made, not born. Take the story of Jack Cramer, tennis star. When Jack was just 11 years, his tennis didn't win him cheers, but practice built his power game and he got on his way to fame with Wheaties, the food that champs acclaim. Today Jack tops the tennis clan for 22 years of Wheaties man. Jack Cramer going steady on Wheaties since he was 11 years old. Mighty good for you. There's a whole kernel of wheat in every Wheaties' flake. Okay, Jack, serve that ball. He's on his way, on his way. He's on his way, on his way. Get on your way with Wheaties. Because champions are made, not born. Yes, sir. Get on your way. Get on your way. Get on your way with Wheaties. Breakfast of champions. Now to continue. Never return to Mohan's Hotel. The Buxom landlady was in the large front parlor. Neat stacks of silver and paper currency were on the table in front of her. Ma, I hope you're now proud because I was late. I don't blame anyone for losing back a time with the long ranger and toddler around. Come on, the rummage sale's over. We'll clean out of here so Jenny can clean the parlor. Say, bring that box, will you, Ned? Yes. What's in it? Some stuff that was left in the hotel by an old peddler who left town without paying his room rent. Doesn't anyone want it? I couldn't even give it away. Ah, if you're giving it away, I'll take it. Well, that suits me, Ned. Say, while I'm putting this cash in the safe, you go to the dining room and see if the old fellow at the table is getting enough of it. Right. Sid Carson was the only occupant of the dining room, blissfully enjoying the best meal he'd eaten in many years. The old man wanted nothing, so Ned returned to the kitchen to investigate the contents of the box Ma had given him. He was lifting the lid when Inky entered, carrying an armful of newspapers. Finished for the day, Inky? No, I'm delivering the newspaper. I brought my hand two dozen copies to sell to a guest. She's in her office putting the cash away. I'll put the papers on the table. What's that stuff? Oh, that's just some things we couldn't sell at the rummage sale. Look, here's an old mouth organ. Yeah, it works. Here's an old pistol. But the trigger's busted. Oh, that's no good. There's a shaving outfit. Ah, the mug's custom-chipped. No one'd want that. Ned, look at the picture on the mug. Just a lot of scenery with a bull in the pasture. Jumpin' grasshopper. That's the mug. The one the trusty painted. You're right. Ma said this stuff was left in the hotel by a peddler who skipped out without paying his bills. And Sid told him I'm a peddler about the mug. Ned, we've got to find Mr. Carson. He's in the dining room right now. Let's go see him. The two boys almost tripped each other in their haste to reach the swinging door that opened into the dining room. And now excitement. They didn't pay any attention to a Spencer who sat across the table from Sid Carson. Spencer had been questioning the old convict when Inky shouted, Mr. Carson, we found it. Look at it. He's mugged. Look. It's not Mr. Carson. A Spencer reached beneath his coat for his gun as Inky held the mug, pointing with an ink smudged finger at the scene painted on the side. At that moment, the door from the kitchen opened and Ma Hank strode into the room. Ned, what's the idea of leaving this stuff right out of my kitchen floor? Now, I gave it to you because I wanted to get rid of it. With Ma, I just wanted to get out of the kitchen. I don't. I get old and... A Spencer. What's the idea of pulling a gun in my hotel? Get your hands up, Ma. Keep your voice down. Boy, you little fucking horn. If you think you can come in... You're all covered. You can't cover all of us at once. I can cover you a lot enough to get that mug. No, no, the mug's mine. Not anymore. Hand it over, Inky. Inky's mind raced. The door to the kitchen was behind him and Ma Hank stood beside him, holding the mug tightly. He turned and raced for the door. Come right here. A squirrel's are shooting. But Ma Hank's 275 pounds. He blocked him, aced back the way before the huge landlady could grab his gun arm. By that time, Inky escaped. Now, what are you gonna do, Spencer? Inky's gone. You three are going out the back door of this hotel and through the alley to my place. I am not going anywhere. Follow orders, or I'll shoot Ned and Sid Carson. And I'll put a bullet through you. Why, you very skunk. If I had my scatter gun... Shut up and get moving. Meanwhile, Toto and Tom Ben found a long ranger and Marshal Jim Frazer a short distance from town. The mask man pointed out the tracks he and the Marshal were following. The Indian recognized the loose right front shoe. Them tracks. Same as ones we follow from Caratoria Prison. We'll get the critter now. You man-to-face joined the Manhattan show, Jim? Not at all, Tom. Oh! Get up! Get up! As they rolled slow to watching the ground, Tom told about Sid Carson's visit to the newspaper office earlier that day. You're afraid except for me to believe that story about buried gold. The story is true, Tom. What? Pete Carson stole the gold from Mexican revolutionists. Then Pete buried the gold. Where? No one knew until it was found ten years ago. Well, they're all gone. Who found it, Mr. A couple of federal agents uncovered at Marshal Jim. They returned the gold to the Mexican government. Does Sid know what this found? I don't think so, Tom. The affair was handled quietly by Washington officials of Mexico. How come you know that? I was with the men who found it. Poor old Sid Jim for a big disappointment. As he lay on the floor in the cellar beneath East Spencer's cafe, Sid Carson regretted the impulse that had taken him to the newspaper office in search of his brother's gold. Now Mohank and Ned, her houseboy, were also prisoners, tied hand and foot like himself. Not one of the prisoners was gagged. What are your heads off, you want to? This cellar's so well-built gold here, yes. You're a local, Ace Spencer. I think you'll bring the law here. I doubt that, ma. I think she's right, Ace. He doesn't know I brought these three here, Dick. No, but he's likely to start a search of the whole town. He won't if he knows his friends will die. What do you mean? I'll tell him to give me the mug and keep his mouth shut or else. Well, else we shoot these three, huh? Right. Do you keep an eye on Dick? I don't look for ink here. As Ace Spencer emerged from the cellar door that opened on an alley in the rear of his cafe, he saw a strange cavalcade coming from his stable. Marshal Fraser was in the lead. Behind him was the lone ranger, Toto and Tom Dent. Ace, you're just the man we want to see. What's the idea of traveling with a mask, man, Marshal? That's my business. Right now, you ought to want to answer questions. Well, if you've seen Inky, you should know better than to believe anything he says. What do you mean by that, Spencer? Inky's a lying little snake. Wait, you hold it, Tom. Well, look, you should know if we're talking about Inky that way. We didn't come here to talk about Inky. You... you didn't. No. Who owns the chestnut mare in your stable? Well, that belongs to... to, uh, Calpheauk. Where's the Calpheauk now? Well, he... I reckon he's in the cafe. Toto, go to the cafe. See if anyone altering that model description is inside. I mean, savvy. He goes up on... But I didn't describe the fellow who owns that mare. You know how he looks like. The masked man knows who he is. So why'd you ask me about him? Because I figured you were a crook. You can't prove anything against me. I never had anything against you, except the crooked gaze. You're running your cafe. You clean those up. I paid my... And I turned you loose. But I didn't change my mind about the kind of pole catch you are. Marshal's here. Marshal's here. Yeah, Inky. I have no power for you, Marshal Tim. I'm clearing out an enemy. No, no, no, don't let him get away. Oh, shimmer down, Inky. But he's a crook. He tried to get this shaving mug. He pulled a gun at my hand and made him send me. What about that Spencer? He's lying. It's the truth, mister. He wants to get the mug. Okay. You still have the mug, Inky. He tried to take it. Hell, that's local. What would I want with an old saving mug, Inky? It's worth a fortune. It might have been if you'd have the mug before Pete Carson Gold was found, Inky. Huh? That's right, Inky. Pete's gold was returned to Mexico years ago. Then, when the mug's worthless. Oh, Pete, don't. Not him could make him a buddy. He isn't. We lost a lot of the cafe. Maybe somewhere else in town. I figured you were hiding that crook Spencer. You figured wrong. Perhaps not. Ah. Spencer was coming from the cellar when we met him, Marshal Jim. That's so. If he wanted to conceal Jones, that would be an ideal place to hide him. Yeah, that's right. There's no one in the cellar. I'll see to myself. Stand aside, Ace. You'll tell where you are, Marshal. He's reached for his hidden gun. As his derringer cleared leather, the lone ranger's cold roared. Oh! A powerful bullet struck Ace's gun arm. His fingers relaxed the grip on the weapon. An instant later, the small gun fell to the ground. He was going for a sneak gun. He was going to shoot you, Marshal Jim. Mister, your shot saved my life. Forget it, Marshal Jim. Why, you keep an eye on Spencer. I'll investigate the cellar. A few moments later, the lone ranger and Toto moved down the steps leading to Spencer's cellar. Toto's moccasin feet made no sound. But when Deke Jones heard the masked man's boots on the stairs, he called... I'm 88. Did you get the mocks? Putting his attention from the prisoners, Deke looked toward the steps expecting to see Ace Spencer. Hey, what the... Mister, thank goodness you're here. Don't try for that gun, Deke. How'd you know my name? The warden in Territorial Prison gave me your description. The warden? Yes. We've been following your trail for weeks. For what? To send you back where you came from. Prison? No masked man, go and buy it. No, you've got him. He shot the gun out of his hand. Toto, cut the ropes on Ma, Ned, and Sid Carson while I turn Deke Jones over to Marshal Jim. Fifteen minutes later, Deke Jones and Ace Spencer were in jail. Ma, Hank, Ned, Inky, Tom Dent, and Sid Carson were in the Marshal's office talking to the young lawman. They explained how Ace had captured them. He'll pay for that. And he'll likewise get a stiff sentence for hiding an escaped convict. That's one crime I'll enjoy watching. I'll have a front seat and court the day he's sentenced. I wish the masked man could be there. He in town was already left town. He'll add him back to Territorial Prison to report Deke Jones' capture to the warden. Well, I reckon I'll go back to the hotel and say, Sid, I need a fella to help out the Henry House. If you want the job, it's yours. Good, ma'am. Working at the hotel means that I'll get three square meals a day. I'll work for free just to be sure of eating your crumb. Can you eat at my place for a while, Sid, and you'll fatten up in no time. Come on, we'll see about finding your place to bunk. I never figured folks in Morgawks City would be so good for an old convict like me. Here's your shaving mug, Mr. Carson. I'm sorry someone else beat you to the gold. Hey, Shinky. Who got that gold? The masked man said he and a couple of federal men found it ten years ago, Sid. They returned it to the Mexican girl. Oh, poor piece. He'd be down right broken up if he'd know his gold was found by two lawmen and the lawman, won't ya? I don't see it. When boys line up to run away Galloping gardens set for place He comes in first because he knows Kids, every delicious spoonful of Cheerios and milk is real muscle building food. Each spoonful contains vitamins, minerals, and proteas your body needs. Yes, the good things and the Cheerios breakfast do good things for your body. Help you have healthy nerves, good red bloods, strong bones, and muscles. Cheerios, remember, is made for most, yet needs no cooking. Eat Cheerios. The cereal shaped like little ripples. Then you'll hear people say, Who's doing the Cheerios? The Lone Ranger, a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated is created by George W. Crandall. Produced by Crandall Campbell Muir Incorporated directed by Charles D. Lincen and edited by Fran Stryker. The part of the Lone Ranger is played by Brace Beamer. Your announcer, Fred Boyd. The Lone Ranger is brought to you by General Mills every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at this same time. Be sure to listen. This recorded program has come to you from Detroit. This is ABC Radio Network.