 horse for the speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty high old silver, the Lone Ranger. His faithful Indian companion, Tonto, the Masked Rider of the Plains led the fight for law and order in the early western United States. The stories of his strength and courage, his daring and resourcefulness have come down to us through the generations, and 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 past come the thundering hoofbeat to the great horse Silver. The Lone Ranger rides again. Come on, Silver, we're heading for Bay City. Oh, Silver! Two men crouched over their horses in the sagebrush, which boarded a wagon trail. Their hats were pulled low, and handkerchiefs disguised the lower half of their faces as they peered intently toward a bend in the road. Suddenly, their hard and narrow eyes lighted with anticipation as they heard hoofbeats and saw an old Indian ride slowly around the bend and along the deep-rutted trail, unaware of the ambush that awaited him. Red skin's coming now, Scar. Yeah, riding slow too. That'll make him an easy target. Did you get a look at that map? No. Then what makes you so sure he's got it? He boasted about having it when Cass and me gave him that firewater in the cafe. That may be, but I don't... When we tried to persuade him to show us the map, he shut up like a clam. Well, if Cass has satisfied the Red Skin's gut, it's good enough, huh? It ain't good enough for Cass. What do you mean? He wants that map, and he don't pay off till he gets what he wants. He'll get it. Better prime them guns. The engine's getting close. Got him in your gun sights, Whitey? Yeah. Let him have it. Got him. Come on. Get up there. Get up there, boy. Hold it. Hold it. Keep your guns on him. Yeah, he won't make trouble. Looks like we drilled him for keeps. He hasn't cast in his chip yet. Just as well. You can make a hand over the map instead of hunting for it. Yeah. You hurt him, Red Skin. Pull out that map and make it fast. Where's Scar on that map? Yeah, that marks a giveaway wherever you go, Scar. You ought to wear a glove on that hand. Won't do the Red Skin any good to remember it. He's heading for the happy hunting grounds. Hand over the map, you. Me not give you map. Give me hand, Whitey. You'll have to search him for it. Map below, my people. Tell where find gold. There's what you remarked when you were drinking that liquor. Thanks for the tip, Red Skin. Can't find anything in his jacket. Look in his moccasins. Yeah, I will. Hey, here's something. Let me see. Yeah. That's the map. That's the engine figures. All pointing to Thunder Mountain and the buried city. You'll not take them. Say, he ripped it in the head. Come here, man, riding this way. Yeah, and an engine with a kid behind him. Come on, hit for the horses. The map. We got to get the other hand. Time. That mask ombré's coming like the wind. Hide, Timmy. Oh, Scar. Oh, Scar. I'm afraid we're too late. He's still breathing. Give me some of this water. Oh, wait, Dan. He's trying to say something. He's trying to give you a piece of paper. Did you recognize a man who shot you? Yes, Tato. And this paper. Indian figures. It's a map. Ah. Map show, buried city Indians. It's torn. Half of it's gone. This paper says there's gold hidden in the city. Gold? Golly. That must be why the outlaws were after the Indian. They wanted the map. Then not plain gold with only half a man. Nor will we. But this half has the place marked with a gold as buried. Right, Dan. But unless it's matched with the other to show the direction in which the treasure lies from Thunder Mountain, the search is hopeless. That's right. Gosh. I didn't think of that. I guess the buried city must be a pretty big place. Yes, it occupies all of a volcano crater. The Indians left it over a hundred years ago. Ah. And say, anger a thunder god. Drive them out. Thunder god? Who's that? Just an Indian superstition, Dan. Ah. We're right to town now. Yes. As soon as we've taken care of the Indian Kimosabi. What about the outlaws that stole the other half of the map? Yes, Dan. Unless I'm greatly mistaken, they'll be hunting us. Standing at the window of the back room of a cafe in Sage City, Mark Cass watches grimly as a wagon train was loaded with supplies at the depot across the street. The small BDIs at the ranch are narrow that the appearance of an old man and his daughter were in charge of the wagons. Then he turned sharply at the sound of approaching footsteps. About time you embrace get here. Where's the map? Give him what you got, Scott. What's this? This is torn. What's the rest of it? That's all we got, Cass. The Indian tore the other half of the map out of our hands. I don't serve him. What stopped you from getting it back? A mask man. Mask man? Yeah. He came riding out of nowhere with an Indian and a kid at his heels. They were honest before we could grab the rest of the map. Were you blundering fools? He couldn't help it, boss. There was nothing to do but high-tail it. Without that other half, this paper ain't worth them Indian signs on it. We know it. All this mark is Thunder Mountain. They don't show the gold at all. That's the part the Indian grabbed. The mask man took a fancy to it after we left. Blast him. He's taken a fortune and gold right out of our pockets. Maybe we ought to round up some of the boys and start trailing that ombre. That ain't all we've got to do. What do you mean, boss? See that wagon train across the street? Yeah. That's an archeological expedition. It's heading for the buried city. Archeological expedition? That's what I said. They're planning to dig in them engine ruins for old relics. The old man and his daughter. I don't remember seeing them around before. And they just came in by stage a while ago. Name's Whitfield. Dr. Whitfield. They're from the east. What have they got to do with us? Why, you thick-witted maverick. If they start digging in the buried city, their lab will come across the gold. We've got to get there first. With both pieces of the map. That puts it up to you two. You've got to stop that expedition from reaching them ruins. And find that mask man. Got any ideas, boss? If I didn't, where would they come from? I've already signed you on with the old man as a wagon guide, Skye. Wagon guide? You mean that? I mean you're to see them wagons don't get to where they're aiming to go. What about their minges? They've hired as handlers. They all know the way to the buried city. They'll be taken care of when the time comes. What have you got lined up for me? Plenty. You and me are trailing that mask man. First, I've got another job for you. Listen. Across the street, Dr. Whitfield and his pretty daughter, Mary, watched while the last preparations were made for their trip to the buried city. We're almost ready, Dad. Aren't you thrilled? Yes, Mary. I can honestly say I am thrilled. I've been looking forward to this trip for a long time. If it's successful... Oh, it will be. I knew it will. It means too much to you to fail. The expense of outfitting the expedition. These wagon teams, the equipment, the men... I had no idea what cost the society so much. Now, Dad, you promised me you wouldn't worry about that. Besides you... What is it, dear? I thought I smelled smoke. Smoke? Look out! Blaston powder's on fire! Run for your lives! It's going to explode! What's that? Dad, look. A lighted fuse hanging from the back of one of our wagons. That wagon is stored with explosives, Mary. Blasting powder. We've got to get out of here. You run ahead. My leg. I'll come as fast as I can. I'll help you, Dad. We'll make it. No, for my sake, Mary, run. The fuse. It only has a few feet to burn. Come on, Sylvie! Someone's coming. Masked. Master Sylvie! Dad, he's aiming at the gun. Oh, Sylvie, hold me for a moment. Oh! Oh! What a shot! Mary. Mary, we're safe. That mask man. His bullet snuffed out the fuse. Same mask. What's all riding us down on the trail? I already told him. Blast him. That's the second time he's spoiled my hand. Yeah, and them wagons would have been blown as splinters if he hadn't nipped that fuse. Old Whitfield was standing close enough to get the blast, too. His daughter with him. I saw him both when I planted the fuse in the cake of blasting powder. We'd better put that embryo out of the way pronto and permanent. We will. Meanwhile, you'd better high-tail it out there and introduce yourself to Whitfield, Scar. You're his wagon boss, you know. Yeah. And I ain't liable to let him forget it. From now on, them wagons are going to be loaded with trouble. The next day, the oxen-drawn wagons of the archeological expedition lumbered heavily over the prairie toward the ancient buried city of the Indians. In the lead rode Dr. Whitfield and Mary, and with them the lone ranger and tanto. Dan Reed, the mask man's 14-year-old nephew, had momentarily dropped behind. I'm so glad you decided to make the trip with us, stranger. My daughter and I owe you a great deal. It hadn't been for what you did yesterday. We wouldn't be making the trip at all. My friends and I also have business in the buried city. Business? I thought the city was deserted. It is. Your business wouldn't be dicking, too, would it? In a way. Ah. Have you any enemies in this part of the country, Doctor? Well, I know. Why don't you ask? Someone seems anxious that you shouldn't complete your expedition. You mean the same someone who attached a lighted fuse to the blasting powder? Yes. I saw someone busy with something at the back of that wagon when I was talking with Dad, but I thought it was one of the regular men. Would you recognize a man if you saw him again? I'm afraid not. You see, I... Oh, oh. Pop that boy. What's your hurry, Dan? I found him. I'm sure of it. Oh. One of the outlaws murdered the Indian, the one he called Scar. Ah. Why do you think that? Well, he carries an ugly scar on his right hand. Who is it, Dan? I don't know his name, but he's the wagon boss. Oh. Well, his name is Scar. Yes. A rancher named Cass recommended him to Dad as an experienced wagon guy. I see. Now, where is he, Dan? He's right at the tail end of the train. What's that? Puzzles. Ah. I'm a packed wagon train. We haven't anything they want. Why should they raid us? For the same reason, they try to blow up your supplies, whatever it is. See them to a wagon where they'll be safer, Dan. You bet. Come on, Todd. We'll form the train into a circle. Come on, Silver. Come on, Scar. Get him up. Come on, Silver. The train 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. Now to continue our story. As the Lone Ranger and Tonto rode to form the wagon train or defensive circle, the outlaws threw firebrands at the canvas hoods and drilled bullet holes into the water barrels. Quickly, the masked man on the Indian rallied the bullwhackers and the Redmen who were responsible for the supplies to ward off the attack. Charge at the Indians, Tonto. Have them beat out the flame before the wagons catch fire. Ah. Kubei. Arrow. And those oxen inside the circle. Racing their horses around the circular fort of wagons, the outlaws led by Cass and Whitey riddled the wagon train with a steady stream of lead. But now, marshal for the Lone Ranger and Tonto, the defenders met them with a murderous fire that forced the renegades to give up the fight. A short time later, Whitey returned and slipped unnoticed into the camp where he joined Scar in the back of one of the wagons. Neither outlaw was aware that his movements were watched by the sharp eyes of Dan, who went close to the wagon to learn more about their secret meeting. Close that canvas flap, Whitey. We don't want anybody looking in. Especially that masked hombre. That coyote's been tropping our ace too long. It's time we took care of him permanent. Can't be too soon to suit me. But that missing half of the map comes first. We've been letting that gold go big in so long it's level of fall in the wrong lap. It was a masked man turned over his piece of the map to the engine of the kid. Not a chance. That map's a valuable property. What's your plan? The three of them bunked by a fire on the outskirts of camp when the wagons turn in for the night. We'll wait till they're asleep. Yeah, I can't hardly tell them apart. They're all wrapped up in blankets. A tall one must be the masked hombre. Yeah, I reckon they're asleep. Don't seem stern. Got your guns ready? Yeah, and it's in the user. Come on. Remember, no gun plainless you have to. I don't want the whole camp on our necks. Just give them the butt into your gun. Keep your sights straight on the mother to the engine of the kid. All right, Whitey. Let them have it. Hey, what's the matter? I don't know yet. Stop yammering and search them for the map. Scar, look. Nothing but a roll of blankets made up to look human. Is this what you're looking for? The masked man. He's got the map. Grab it. Quick! Get him, Whitey! You better practice your fire on before you play with him. Here's something for you, Scar. Oh! That takes pipe from our claws. Yeah, they won't get another chance to kill. What's happening? We heard a shot. Is anything wrong? Who are these men? They're leaders of the gang who have been making trouble for you. That's a lie. You framed yourselves when you came for this map. You framed yourselves for murder. Murder? What do you mean? An old Indian was killed on the trail. In his hand he held this torn piece of a map. Only the man who murdered him would value it because they hold the matching half. No. The man who gives you orders does. We don't take orders from anybody, do we, Whitey? Nah. Not even from Cass. How'd you know that? What do you mean to do with us? I'll turn you over to the sheriff for murder. The next day, leaving Dan to ride ahead of the wagon train to the buried city, the lone Ranger and Tato escorted their prisoners to the jail in Sage City. Then the masked man conferred with the sheriff in the latter's office. I don't doubt that Scar and Whitey murdered the engine stranger. They're both bad medicine. But I can't hold them in jail unless I have proof. You'll have proof, Sheriff. And you'll get it plenty soon. Murder isn't all these men are responsible for. They're leaders of a gang who have made two attempts to wreck Dr. Whitfield's wagon train. You've no proof of that either. You'll soon have all the evidence you need. Just the same I can. There's bigger game to be caught than Scar and Whitey. Both the ringleader and the gang are still free. I'm going to accuse the prisoners to catch big game. Who is the leader? Mark Cass. Mark Cass? Are you local? Well, he's a mighty powerful and respected man in these parts. There's one way to prove I'm right. What's that? The Indian was murdered for a map showing the location of buried gold. Yeah? The map tore in half and the killers made their escape. Now, this is the part the Indian held on to. Now, if Cass has a missing half, it will mean he either planned or helped in the murder. The map right. How do you aim to find out? Listen. A few minutes later, the Lone Ranger was careful to attract the attention of the imprisoned outlaws as he rode from the jail to Mark Cass' office a short distance down the street. Then he reigned in, his powerful white stallion at the hitching rail and smothered the steps. Who is it? I want to talk to you, Cass. You seem to know who I am. Well, not exactly. You've just seen your own, that's all. I see. What do you want with me? Close the door. Sure. Better keep that gun in leather. I came for a friendly talk. What's your game, mister? The same as yours when you sent Scar and Whitey gunning for me. What do you mean? I want to match this half of the map to the other half. What makes you think I got the other half? You wouldn't be so anxious to get mine if you didn't have it. Well, I... I'm not going to take it from you. I, uh, thought we might work together. You mean... My part of the map shows where the gold is located. Your half, if you have it, should show its direction from Thunder Mountain. Partners, huh? What about Scar and Whitey? They won't bother us. I see. I should have pegged you for an outlaw the first time I saw you. Especially after the way you handled your guns. Splitting the gold two ways is better than three any old time. I haven't seen your part of the map yet. You got it right here. It matches. Yeah. We'll start digging for the golden knight. Now, wait. What about Whitfield's wagon train? It'll reach the buried city this afternoon. Ah, blast the old coot. Just when we're all set to do some excavating ourselves, we'll have to scare him out. The engines ever found out we lifted their yellow dust, our scalps wouldn't be worth a plug nickel. Oh? I know a way to frighten him clean out of the crater. Yes? Engines are full of superstition, see. They've amused the whole city because they thought some critter of their imaginations called a thunder god was angry with them. Well, I'll give them a thunder god who'll really get mad. Them red skins with Whitfield will hightail it clear back to town. And without them to excavate for them, the old coot will have to come back too. I see. You're going to play a thunder god. That's the ticket. I'll blow chunks out of the Thunder Mountain with blasting powder just to be sure I make myself heard. As the lone ranger and Cass left the latter's office and headed their horses in the direction of Thunder Mountain, Scar saw them from the window of the jail cell where he was on watch. Whitey. Yeah? They're leaving town together, Cass and the mass man. Scar, they're hidden for Thunder Mountain. You don't suppose Cass means to skip out on us with that gold? He ain't no fool. It's too easy for us to double cross him as well as us while we're in the who's gal. All we have to do is talk and talk plenty. Maybe so. But what's he doing with the mass, man? Never don't concern the gold. Ain't no no. They do look kind of chummy all of a sudden. They don't like it, Scar. I got a feeling Cass is selling us out. If he is, it'll be his last sell out. They're almost out of sight. Here's the mass skin, Jin's friend. Yeah, what's your part doing with Cass, Red Skin? Yeah. They look like they're in business together. Ah, then go after gold. What? They're going after the gold. That's right. Each hold half a map. Cass say, then divide gold between them. The low down pole cat? Double crossing us after all. Cheating us out of us here, the gold, after we brought him the map. Well, he ain't getting away with it. I don't aim to swing for murder while Cass goes free. Double crossing, coyote. I'm talking now. Before he makes a getaway. Sheriff! We'll both talk, Whitey. I've got enough in that pole cat to fill a book. Hey, Sheriff! What's going on here? Get paper and pencil. We're signin' a confession. High on Thunder Mountain, the lone ranger in Cass watched while the latter's gang planted blasting powder at strategic points among the cliffs. Then, standing in a cave, so that his voice took on an aspect of the supernatural, Cass prepared to address the archeological expedition. Meanwhile, the unsuspecting members excavated for ancient relics among the ruins of the Indian city below. Golly, it's hot. You're working too hard, Dan. Yes, my boy. You haven't stopped digging since we started. Rest awhile. Ah, I would, but I keep wondering what the next bait full of dirt will bring. Gosh, it might be anything. Knives, arrows, pottery, and all of it more than a hundred years old. It's too much fun to stop. Here's JD. What was it? What's that? It sounded like blasting powder, but... Thunder God! It's coming from the mountain. Thunder God, not one white man in Indian city. You go. Thunder God, speak truth. Not one white man here. We're not one either. Golly, the Indians are getting restless. Dan, you don't think they'll turn on us? I don't know. Man intrude on sacred Indian soil. Make them thunder God. I'm great. Dan, look, the mountain's exploding. They don't understand. The Indians, they're getting ready to attack us. As the Indian helpers ran to attack the white employers in the ruined city, the lone ranger and the sheriff's posse surprised the fake Thunder God and his outlaw gang on the mountain. Why won't you cast? You double-cross and coyote, you trick me. You trick yourself. You won't get out of this alive. Drop that gun. I'll drop you first. No! What are you men to throw in? Cassius around it. Sheriff. Put on your guns, boys, they've got us. Jeff, you'll find the matching half of the map on him. Let me see. Ah, it's a map, all right. This fixes you for a hang-loose, Cassius. You've got no murder proof against me. Scar and Wettie both confessed, and they named you as their boss. Look, the Indians are attacking the Whitfield Expedition. You're coming with me, Cassius. You heard me. Come on, Silver. There are too many of them. If we don't hurry away from here, we might all be killed. I'm afraid Mary's right, Dr. Whitfield. My expedition. We've come all these miles to the ruined city, and now it's someone's coming. Come on, Silver. It's the lone ranger. Under fighting. Oh, Silver, hold on, hold on. Indians, Dr. Whitfield is your friend. We have to trespass on Indian City. Make Thunder God angry. Oh, wait. You've been fooled. This is your Thunder God. It's a lie. It's a truth. Tell them, Cass. Tell them so they'll know. No, no, I'm weak. I'm the Thunder God. It's in your hands now, Sheriff. Quiet, quiet. Go back to your work, there's nothing wrong. Our law will punish the man who tried to fool you. Come along, Cass. You're going back to town with me. Well, Mary, I guess we'll be able to continue with our expedition after all. Thanks to the lone ranger. You have just heard as a copyrighted feature of the lone ranger incorporated.