 The fiery horse to the speed of light, a cloud of dust and a hardy high old selver, the long ranger. With his faithful Indian companion, Tonto, the daring and resourceful masked 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. Come out of the past and the thundering hoop beats the great horse, Selver. The long ranger rides again. Time after time, the stagecoaches that carried cash were stopped and looted near the town of Clareton. Rain up, driver. Ho! Yeah, ho! Now throw down that express box there beside you. You doggone cooks. Reach for that shotgun and you stop live. Now listen, we're not carrying any dirt, different throw down that box. Three days later. Ho! Holey! Ho boy! Ho! Holey! Ho! Steady. You're the same critters that held up my stage before. Yeah. I'm carrying cash. I save the talk and hand it over. The law will get you to mark my words. Don't worry about that. Just throw down that express box. And one week after that. How come you two always know what I'm carrying cash? You haven't missed one. There we don't need to. Now let's have it. Yeah. You can look for us next time you're carrying something that's worth taking. Highwomen seem to have inside information. Butterfields that carried no gold or money went through unmolested. There had been no sign of trouble when the Westbound brought a well-dressed easterner to clergy. Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! As he walked toward the station, his steel grey eyes studied the crowd that had gathered. Then a smile of recognition crossed his face and he quickened his step, hurrying toward the local stage line manager. Dave! It's not Mr. Edwards. What are you doing in town? Dave. Where are you going to talk? Private? Open the office this way. See, I never knew you were coming. Why didn't you write and let me know? I preferred to arrive unexpectedly. Oh. Well, here we are. Just have inside. Limpy. Huh? Just leave the sweeping and get along. Clem will finish. I'm almost done, Mr. Moran. Leave it be. All right. If you say so. Just take a minute, though. Famous. I reckon Mr. Simpson will be looking for me at the cafe anyway. And Limpy, close the door after you. Sure, Mr. Moran. Sure. I'll take this chair, Dave. Who was that? Limpy. Don't know as I've ever heard his last name. He sweeps out the cafe for Sam Simpson at night and does odd jobs for me during the day. Why? Well, he doesn't seem to be very bright. I guess he's not. What's on your mind? Holdups. More than a dozen in the last three months. I know. Dave, it means I'll have to settle the liner to go bankrupt. I have had to make good on every one of those stolen shipments. In the last 90 days, I've paid claims a mountain to more than $60,000. Mr. Edwards, do you want my resignation? I didn't come here for that. I'm in charge here, Limpy. I don't fire men who've worked faithfully. I don't blame you. If you can't get to the bottom of this business, there must be some reason for it. And I came here to find out what the reason is. Did you know there's never been a stage stop that wasn't carrying dust or cash? Yeah. Well, then these high women know when valuable shipments are made. Yeah. Who's tipping them off? I'd give my right arm to know that. Half of them holdups happened when no one but me knew cash was being shipped. The drivers and guards didn't even know. What have you done about it? Everything I could think of. I finally hired a fellow I think and get results for us. An investigator? Yeah. His name's Sandy Norris. He used to work for Wells Fargo. Well, the name's familiar. It ought to be him. He's caught more stage robbers than any dozen other fellows put together. I'd like to meet him. Oh, you will. It's him raining up outside. Just a minute and he'll be in here. I hope he knows this business. He's playing poison to crooks. Most of them know it. Glad you're here, Steve. I've been checking up. Come on in, Sandy. This here's Mr. Edwards. He's owner of the line. Mr. Edwards, this is Sandy Norris. How do you do, sir? Did these holdups bring you where, Mr. Edwards? They did. Well, if that's the case, you won't have to stay long. I think I've got a line on the fella behind him. You do? That's good news, Norris. Sandy, who is it? It can be one of two fellas, Dave. You've uncovered something? Let me ask you two something. Have you ever figured you've been wrong, Dave, suspicion in everybody working for you? What do you mean? Seems to me you're forgetting the fellas who'd be sure to know when cash was being shipped. What's that? Ever think of the fellas that have been sending cash to the bank over in Dodge City? I see what you mean. If I were sending out money, I could tip off the robbers so they'd know when I intended to ship it. That's right. Then they'd hold up the stage, take the money, and divide it with me. Right. The stage company would have to make good the entire loss. I'd lose nothing. In fact, I'd be ahead with my share of the stolen money. Norris, I think you've had it. Yeah. There's one man in town who's had cash on every dog going one of the stages that have been held up. Sam Simpson. Right. Simpson? I mentioned him a minute ago. He owns a cafe. Norris, you suspect him? A lot of things point in his direction. Aside from the fact that the stages stop whenever he ships cash, he's got ways of knowing when other men send out gold or money. How? Well, you see, men are inclined to get talkative when they relax over a drink in Simpson's place. Sam just keeps his ears open. Do you have any proof to back your suspicions? I said there were two men who might be back at the hold-ups. Simpson's just one. Who's the other? Well, I expect to have the answer to that tonight, Mr. Edwards. Simpson will be in the cafe tonight. I'll pay him a visit. By the time darkness fell, the cafe in Clareton was well-filled. Sam Simpson was in his office in back of the establishment talking to Sandy Norris when a tall, broad-shouldered man dressed as a prospector entered. Excuse me, mister. Certainly. The swamper stepped out of the stranger's way and stood looking after him as he strode toward the bar. What's the matter, Limpie? Stranger's scaring you? You're a friend of yours, Limpie. You're quick and early tonight, aren't you? You chance-mind your own business. I don't know who the stranger is. Swampin's all I'm paid for. Neither Limpie, the swamper, nor the men in the cafe who looked curiously at the stranger realized that he was not the prospector he appeared to be. He was none other than the almost legendary masked rider of the planes known throughout the West as the lone ranger. He had entered the cafe without his mask, his face disguised. Well, stranger, well, you have. You can give me some information. Like what? Who owns this cafe? Sam Simpson. Why? Where is he now? What's that to you? I want to talk to him. In that case, you'll have to wait your turn. He's in his office now talking to Sandy Norris. Sandy Norris? Yeah. And from what they said, they don't want to be disturbed. Does that door back there lead to the office? That's it. Hey, where are you going? Outside. I'll be back in a minute. What's that? Hey! It's Sam Simpson's office. Who's in there? What's going on? Come on. Where are you going? Into that office. Hurry, man. Get the sheriff. Sam's in there. Well, the door's locked. Better stay out, stranger. What are you going to do? Break in the door. Stand back. There may be more shootings. Wait a minute, stranger. Come on. Boss. What happened? Mr. Simpson, you're... I didn't do it. There were three shots. They must have come from the window. Barkeep, take a look at Sandy Norris. He may still be alive. Right. Stand back. Don't crowd in here. They won't let me through there. Out of my way. What happened in here? Sheriff. Hey, I'm the sheriff. All right. Just who are you? You're mighty free with giving over to your sheriff. Sandy Norris is dead. Wait. What happened? We heard shots and broke in here. Simpson was standing just as you see him. Norris was there on the floor. Let be of the case, Sam. I'm arresting you for murder. But, sheriff, I... I never killed him. I swear it. I... Well, everything happened so fast. I... I don't know what to say. We were sitting here talking. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to say. We were sitting here talking. You're not the stranger. You say you had to bust in here. Yes. Then the door was locked. There's no other door. It's the only way out except for that windy. Was anyone in here besides you and Sandy Sam? No. You stranger. Say, wait for that windy. I am the law here and I'm giving orders. Sheriff, look there. I said I'm giving the orders here. You stand where you are. Damn me. You being the only one here, you did the killing. No, no, sheriff. I didn't. Of course. I never figured you'd turn killer. Sheriff, Simpson isn't armed. Where's the gun that killed Lord? I got eyes to see he's not armed. You keep out of this. Damn me. What'd you do with the gun? Come on, speak up, sheriff. You've got to believe me. I never... Here's the gun. You got it, Libby. I guess it's the one. Where'd you get it? Well, Sam said them shots come from outside, so I looked. And there was the gun right there below the window on the ground. Sam could have tossed it out. But I didn't, sheriff. Whoever shot Norse must have dropped his gun when he was making a getaway. You still claim them shots came from outside, eh? They did, sheriff. I swear it. Sheriff, listen to me a moment. I'm the law. I don't want no interference from strangers. Are you keep out of this, mister? Sheriff, please listen to the stranger. Maybe he's noticed something you missed. I've got the evidence I need, Sam. Norse suspected you of the whole lips. He's here with you. And he shot dead. I find the gun outside the window where you could have tossed it. The gun has been fired. And it's your gun. You were under arrest for murder. 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. The Lone Ranger, disguised as a prospector, founded him possible to make himself heard by the cock-sure sheriff. He left Clariton as Sam Simpson was led to jail. A little later, he reigned up in camp at the edge of the town. Tonto, the mystery rider's faithful Indian companion, was waiting for him. The Lone Ranger quickly dismounted and began at once to remove his disguise, preparing to don his familiar clothes and the mask that identified him. Get this strain off. You find out about robberies in town? Well, I was in the cafe. Sandy Norse was murdered. He was in Simpson's office. Although the two men were alone. Yeah, sure. You think Simpson killer? I doubt it, Tonto. The sheriff claimed Simpson killed Norse and dropped his gun outside the window. Well, he could have. But if he'd had the presence of mind to do that, he would have made a getaway. Oh, why you say that? He'd stopped to think he'd have known he'd be the first person suspected. Oh, that's right. I tried to point out to Sheriff Bates that there were powder burns on the windowsill. The powder burns looked as if someone had studied the gun against the sill, then fired. What'd Lone say? He wouldn't listen to me. The position of Norse's body also pointed to the fact that the shots came from the window. Lomon not see that? No. Hand me the mask, will you, Tonto? Here. Thanks. Simpson looked dazed and bewildered. He certainly didn't look like a man who was guilty of murder. But unless the truth is learned, he'd be convicted on circumstantial evidence. Who do you think killed Norse, fella? Tonto, Norse came here to investigate the whole lips. He suspected a couple of men. He said he'd know who was guilty after talking to Simpson. Oh, me savvy. It looks like the guilty man feared the result of the conversation. He must have murdered Norse to protect himself and handled it so Simpson would be blamed. You know Killer? No, not yet, but I hope to. Oh, you got your horse caught. Oh, Scout ready. The killer's a man I suspect. He's one of the shrewdest outlaws in this territory. Ready, Silver? Ready, Tonto? Show up me ready. Come on, Silver! Get him up, Scout! It was later that same night when the eastbound stage from Clariton moved slowly up a steep hill. The horses had to labor on the moonlit trails. Come on, you critters, get along here. All the way, Dad, rent your pool there. But just as the stage reached the top of the grade... Hey, what's that? Two horsemen suddenly appeared from the shadows. Right up there! There's underrace and more outlaws. Oh, easy there. Oh, oh boy. Easy steady there. Oh, oh boy. Easy steady. Now, look here. This is a holdup. Now, reach for your gun. Just drop that express box to the trail and be quick about it. Why, you... I said be quick about it. Now, don't shoot. You can have it. I'll get it for you. Follow my orders or the next shot won't go over your head. I'm getting it. I'm getting the box. Drop it over the side. There. Good. Now, get going. I'm going. But, uh, Mr. Yes? This is one time you get fooled. There's no more care-snad box than there is in my hip pocket. All right, boys. Get it. Get it off me. You heard what he said, toddler? Ah, yes. There are no cash in the box. Yes. That's what I hoped. You've got the box? Uh, me got it here. Now, we'll get back to camp. Once in a while. Get him off the camp. The next day, news of the holdup sent Sheriff Bates to the express office. He found Mr. Edwards and Dave Moran both on hand. Good evening, Sheriff. Good evening, Sheriff. Been expecting you, Sheriff. I just got the word. Another holdup, eh? Yes. Handle just as the others were. Yeah? But the creditors were fooled this time. Fooled me. There was no cash aboard. Eh? Not a penny, Sheriff. You sure of that? Look at the records if you want them. We weren't carrying a dollar in cash on that stage last night. Well, doggone. That's good news. Here it is, Sheriff. What's more, it proves something. What does it prove? This is the first time the crooks held up the stage without getting a lot of cash. They didn't make mistakes like that before Simpson went to jail. Yeah? Yeah, that's true. It seems to me it's sure to prove that Simpson's the one that was been tipping them off. Ah, I see what you mean. But that's hardly proof that Simpson's guilty, though. It's not proof. But it does sort of confirm the fact that Simpson's our man. Your doggone right, Dave. Now, if we can only make him name his partners and tell where the cash is hid. You're wrong. What? There, the door. There you are. Don't slap leather. You. You're one of the crooks that's been holding up the stage. I'll admit I handled last night's affair. I don't intend to keep what I took. I simply borrowed it. I'll just keep your hands in sight and don't make any fast moves while we bring in your express box. All right, Tonto, come ahead. Ah. The Lone Ranger held a gun on the bewildered men while Tonto carried in a heavy chest equipped with a handle at each end. It's a rich kid with him. I don't savvy this. Why are they bringing that box here? We won't be long in finding out. Here's the express box. It was on last night's stage. Bringing it back because it didn't hold cash, huh? Well, you're ordinary highwaymen. Dave, you know better than that. Ordinary highwaymen wouldn't bother returning this chest. They'd just throw it away. You admitted holding up the stage? Yes, I held up last night's stage. And all the others? No, Sheriff. None of the others. The hold up last night was part of a plan to prove that Simpson is innocent and find the real outlaws and the murderer. Since when do Simpson hire mass gunslingers to speak for him? Sheriff, you were so sure of Simpson's guilt you didn't think it necessary to look for clues. There was a clue last night. There was a faint footprint outside the window. What's that? Yes, I saw it. And I think I can name the murder of the investigator right now. But naming him won't prove his guilt. Neither will it find his partners or the stolen money. You mean you proposed to do those things? The real killer was at ease when Sam was arrested. He was sure that with Sam's conviction the case would be closed. Well, last night's robbery was to stir him up. It was part of a trap. But what's the rest of your plan? Tonight you'll see the trap close. Sheriff, you and Dave and Edwards are riding with me. Although it was nearly midnight, a small campfire burned just within the mouth of a cave in the hills outside of Clareton. Two men sat hunched in the circle of light cast by the blaze. They were heavily bearded, powerfully built. Each of them had the look of a man who lives outside of the law. You know, Mike, I've been thinking about this killing in town. Yeah? What about it? It's got me worried. You, uh, think the boss did it? Don't you? Maybe. Might spoil things for us. These hold-ups have been a mighty good thing. Well, it looks like Simpson's going to hang for it. Nobody suspected the boss. Maybe not. We can go right on like we've been doing as long as he's all right. Yeah, but how long will that be? What do you mean? Mike, with a killing, the law has to get busy. Even if Simpson does hang for it, the boss is full enough to kill once he can do it again. The second one's always easier in the first. Maybe the next time he'll get caught. We'll be due for hanging along with him. If he was caught, he wouldn't talk. No, he wouldn't gain a thing by talking. Ah, no, but why? Besides, nobody'd ever connect us with him. We never meet. On a stage is to carry cash. He leaves a sign for us where we can see it. When we get the cash, we leave his share where he told us to. Nobody could follow us to him or him to us. Yeah, maybe so. As long as he stays away from us, why we're in the clear? Why, a lot of... What's the matter? Jake, someone's outside this cave coming this way. You sure? Yeah, I heard footsteps. I'm the one you heard, just double-crossing pole cats. Limpie, the boss. Yeah, me, Limpie. The cafe swamper. And the boss. Don't either of you two move. Stay right there in the light of that fire or blow your head off. But boss, what's the idea? Why'd you come here? So you two thought you could put something over on me, huh? Thought I'd lie low now that Sam's in jail. Thought I'd sit still and let you two jugheads work by yourself. Boss, what are you talking about? You know what I'm talking about. Last night's hold up. What? Hold up? We don't know anything about a hold up. I lie. I must have found out there was cash on that stage that I didn't know about. You figured to split two ways instead of three. Well, I'm here for my share. But we didn't hold up any stage. And we didn't get any cash. I said I was here for my share. And your share is my share, all of it. I'll teach you to double-cross me. Now, get out the cash. Everything. Hey, boss, you... you mean the cash from the other hold ups? That's just what I mean. You can't do that. It's our share. Shut up. Don't tell me what I can do. I'm taking everything, see? Now, toss out that cash, or I'll give you what I gave Sam the Norse. That's what I said. After the first time, killin' comes each. Listen to us, Limpie. Put that gun down. You heard what I said. The cash. Up the guns, Limpie. Who's that? I'll catch ya. Limpie. Someone got him. I'll get the same for you two if you want it. Mask. Keep your hands where they are. A red skin. Don't go for any guns. His arm's in trouble. Huh? Can you get guns? Who are you and where'd you come from? Who's that mask mean? You, Limpie. Stay right where you are. I'll take care of you, Limpie. Your share is long. Your door's going right. I'm not here, Lord. Edward. Hey, come on in here. So, Limpie is the sidewinder that's behind the hold ups? No. No, listen, wait. We heard you, Limpie. You talked yourself into a hangman's move. He's pals as well. Limpie, you gun-crazy jughead. You brought this mask, Ambrie, and you also brought the sheriff. No. Yes, you did, Limpie. You didn't realize it, but you brought us here. We followed you from town. Followed me? Why did you follow me? Sam's in jail for the murder. He won't be there for long. Last night I was sure Sam was guilty. I didn't look beyond my nose. But the mask man did. He found footprints outside the window. They were pretty faint, but he and his Indian friend could identify them as yours. He knew I was bullheaded, and he knew it would take more than the footprints to clear Sam and convict you. We couldn't believe that the Swamper was the leader of a hold-up gang. Limpie worked regular for Sam. That explains why the stage was held up every time Simpson sent money on it. It also explains how Limpie got a hold of Sam's gun so he could use it for killing Norris. Yes, sir, that's right. Oh, Limpie, last night's hold-up was done just so you'd call your partners on it. We followed you all the way from town. The footprint wasn't evidence, but by a thunder we got evidence now. Sheriff, we'll get back the money, too. You sure will. Well, give me a hand, boys. We'll rope these three and take them into town. I'll be glad to help. So will I. I should have listened to that stranger in the cafe last night. I had to tell me about some evidence, but I was so darn sure that Simpson was a guilty one. Sheriff, who was the stranger? Well, I don't know, but I've got a mighty good idea that the masked man could... Hey, where'd he go? The masked man? Yeah, he was here a minute ago. Now, both he and the Indian are gone. He was right behind us when we started to broken those crooks. He left the cave. I tell you, he's the guilty one. Get him. Make him answer some questions. You shut up. You've answered all the questions I want to ask. As for that masked man, we... He and the stranger last night have a way of disappearing, but they also got a way of showing up when they're needed. The story you have just heard is a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated.