 A fiery horse with a speed of light, a claw of dust and a hearty high of silver, the long ranger. This faithful Indian companion total, the daring and resourceful mass 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. From out of the past come the thundering hoofbeats of the great Morse Silver. The long ranger rides again. A long ranger and his Indian companion total headed southward along the trail from Pekas. For two days they had followed the trail of Chet Mifflin, notorious gunman and his three companions who had terrorized the Pekas Valley for several weeks. They looked like Mifflin, other crooks, but no of them being followed. From the way they've kept all the move, it's possible that they're all right, not good. Soon storm comes, rain washway cracks. You'll find shelter before the storm breaks. Come on, sir, we'll get them up the couch. The masked man and Indian took shelter in a deserted miner's shack back off the trail. It was sundown when the rain finally stopped. Then they rode a few miles further and made camp in the hills near the town of Rockville. Tahoe rode toward town to buy supplies. As the Indian approached the edge of town, a commotion broke out at the other end of the main street. Something happened. Get them up the couch. A few moments later, Tahoe pulled to a stop before the bank where a crowd had gathered. They came out to see what they looked like. More band-aids were trying to face it. One of them was taller than the other. We'll get a party. Get it, try to trade with me. Get your horses, meet in front of my office in 10 minutes. Maybe you're Captain Mifflin. We go tell a lone ranger. Get them up the couch. Tahoe returned to the camp in the hills and told the lone ranger what had happened. If Mifflin and his men are the ones who robbed the bank, it'll cover their tracks well. Ah, sky cloudy. It's soon be plenty dark. Go back to town. I'll go and wait around the cafe until the party returns. Find others that happen to get a line on the crooks. I'll ride with you and wait in that grove in the edge of town. Meanwhile, in a hideout cabin in a hollow, miles the other side of town, Jack Mifflin and his two followers were dividing the bank loop. Ah, conceivably divided. That was about the easiest robbery. We pulled them all the time we've been together. Yeah, that's right, Jack. The cabin, I had a laugh the easy way you walked to the teller's window and made him fork over the cage. I was like, oh, I'm going to get out of here. The way you walked to the teller's window and made him fork over the cage. I reckon the party's out right now trying to pick up our trail. Oh, we're safe enough. You're too smart for them, Jack. Going out a couple of tracks like you do. Maybe so, but don't forget that Indian I spotted up in Pickers. Well, I told you, ride with a mast on where you'll help the law. If they trailed us down this way, we're not safe yet. That storm covered our tracks back along the trail? I know, but I'd sure like to be sure they aren't too close that they did start after us. Where do I think it'd be a good idea for you to ride back to the cafe in town and sort of look around? Don't you think that'd be kind of risky right now? Oh, I don't. Vernon's sort of average in looks and size. Nobody in town saw his face. He'd be safe enough. Anyway, it's best to know if the party got a line on us. Well, I'm willing to go. We'll hang around an hour or two, then come on back. See you later. At the cafe in town, Huffle stood in the shadows, listening and watching. Finally, the men from the posse entered with the sheriff. Yeah, they sure knew how to cover tracks. Yeah, we lost him without any trouble. Yeah, don't forget, man, it was dark. Maybe if we set out in the morning, we'll have better luck. The group Vernon, who had arrived at the cafe just a short time before the posse, stood at the end of a bar listening with a smile on his face. Yeah, I sure wish somebody had a good look at those groups. Of course, we know one was taller than the other two, but that's no help and spot. Vernon leaned on his elbow and looked around, nonchalantly. Then his eyes rested on Tonto. He noted the fringed buckskins and the fine guns, and he remembered Chet Mifflin's description of the tall, well-built Indian who rode with a mask man who helped the law. The outlaw didn't change expression as he turned away, but he watched in the mirror until Tonto finally left the cafe. Then Vernon walked slowly out after him, then stood in the shadows on the cafe veranda. Ian Chet told us about it. I'm sure that. I'll get back to the hideout until Chet can get right away. Okay, sit. Yeah, sure did. I saw a tall Indian dressed in buckskins and wearing fine guns. He rode away in a big paint horse. He's my crew. That means the two armed regions have told us about did trailers hit. They'll recognize this. I figured I'd better come and tell you right away so we can hit leather before they pick up our trailer to the hideout. Look, we better get going as soon as possible. I'll wait a minute. Let me think, will you? If they manage to trailer this far, it won't be long before they'll pick up our trailer again. They're both plenty smart. All the more reason for hitting leather and getting out of here tonight. That's what I see. Shut up a minute, both of you. I'm not going to leave tonight. Hey, are you local? Hey, if they find this hideout and tip off the law... Now, look, they don't have any way of knowing we've found out about them being in this neighborhood. When I hear if they do find this hideout, they'll try to move in on us without bothering to get the law. But if they're as smart as you say, Chet, even if we are three against two, it's risky to take the chance of getting the best of them. I agree with Verne on that. I told you, let me think a minute. And I've come up with a pretty good idea. What is it? We'll make the first move against them. Oh, now I know you're local. Look, Chet, Hal and I both agree you're plenty smart. But from what you've told us of those two, I'll show you I'm just as smart as you think I am. I'll listen close and I'll tell you how we'll go about it. Am I listening? Yeah, start talking. Verne, you look like the average type of fella, like I said before. You could easily pass for a cow-cow, for instance. Well, when we came to pull this job, we passed a big spread about five miles back. Remember? Oh, yeah, the, uh, the Bar-C. I noticed the sign over the entrance gate. Sure. Now, I met a fellow in Pecos who used to work at that ranch. He did a six-month stretch in prison for helping run off some of the Bar-C cattle one night. Well, what's he got to do with all this? He told me something about that place. It's owned by a rancher named Calhoun. The foreman's name is Tex Darby. Get to the point, Chet. What's all this got to do with a mast to bring that engine? Yes, this. Verne will ride to the sheriff's office right now, tonight. The sheriff's office? Just one catfish. Thought that would get excited. It'll be all right. Verne, you tell the sheriff exactly what I tell you to. Things will work out just fine for us. Now, here's what I want you to say. Later that evening, the cook, Verne, entered the sheriff's office in town. He was sheriff? Yeah, hardly missed it. That brings you here. Well, one of the cow folks out on the Bar-C spread where I worked brought news of the bank robbery that happened late this afternoon. What about it? I got to thinking when I heard there were three men, one taller than the other two. You mean maybe you've seen them? Oh, and not since the robbery. But early this morning, four riders came along the trail near our spread. I noticed three of them were white, the other a well-dressed Indian. Oh, God. As they went by, I heard one of them say to the Indian, you go into town and see how things are. Then come let us know. Later I went to town and I saw that same Indian hanging around the bank. When I was talking about it at the bunk house, the boys had the idea he might have been a spy for the three crooks who robbed the bank later. Hey, Sunder, maybe you have something there, Mr. Just after the robbery, I saw a tall, well-dressed Indian ride up and listen as we all talk about it. And he must be a spy for the crooks. In fact, one of our men saw the same Indian coming around the cafe tonight, just standing in the shed. Yeah, I wonder. We thought maybe if you watched, he might come snooping around again, maybe in the morning. Then you could grab him and make him tell what he knows. Hey, Jiminy, that's a good idea. We have watched for that Indian, and the minute he shows up in town, we'll grab him on suspicion. But I want you here to identify him as the one you saw riding with those three men this morning. Sure. I'll come back early in the morning and wait around in case you catch it. I wish we had more law-minded citizens like you, Mr. Thanks. I'll see you in the morning, Sheriff. Early the following morning, before setting out to search for the three crooks, Todd will roll into town to the blacksmith's shop to have one of scouts shoes tightened. One ranger, again, waited in a nearby grove. Have your horse ready in a jiffy, Indian. I'm sure he's a fine-looking thing. Yeah, a scout, a pretty good horse. That's the Indian I was telling you about, Sheriff. Yeah, I saw him in the cafe when we went there after hunting for the crook. All right, Indian, you're coming with us. I have some questions to ask you about that bank robbery. You mean a crook? You mean not help Rob Bank? But he must know the man who did. Why do you say that? We'll ask the questions, Indian. But I don't mind telling you that you were seen with three men riding past the bar as he spread yesterday morning by this cowpoke. And you were later seen hanging around the bank a couple of hours before the hold-up. Oh, that's not true. Then I saw you myself when you rode up and listened to what we had to say just after those crooked pals of yours made a getaway. We just come to town, then. We just hear about robbery. He'll try his best to lie out of it, Sheriff. But he's the one all right. He's with a tall fellow and two about my size when they rode past the bar scene. Me not ride with three men. Him not outrude. Look, Indian, if you're calling me a lawyer... Oh, hold it. Don't draw your gun, mister. I want this Indian in good condition to be questioned. Look at those buckskins and those guns. They're rigging it took plenty of cash to buy those. Yeah, maybe he stole them. That pay to his is unusual for an Indian to be riding. Yeah. Give me a horse. Now, who's gonna pay me for fixing that shoe? Me. Yeah. Look, he has plenty of cash, too. Yeah, he's a spy for those crooks, all right. Come on, Indian, you have a lot of talking to do. Me not talk. Well, if you don't, you rotten jail. Come on, you're going to the jailhouse right now. The Critten falls on the first act of our Lone Ranger adventure. Before the next exciting scenes, please permit us to pause for just a few moments. Chuck Mifflin's plan was working well. The sheriff listened to the crook burn and Toto was picked up on suspicion and taken to jail. Since he refused to talk, he was put into a cell and left there. Meantime, the Lone Ranger waited in the grove. It's been about almost two hours. This guy is my patient all the time. Disguised and without a mask that might bring questions, a Lone Ranger left the Great Horse Silver hidden in the grove, walked into town, and entered the cafe. Welcome for you, stranger. Oh, no, not right now. I'm looking for someone. Oh, make yourself at home. Did the sheriff and his posse get a line on the crooks who robbed the bank yesterday? Well, I hear they picked up an Indian who would spy on those outlaws. Understand they had him over to jail right now. An Indian? Yeah, I reckon he's in with them all right. He wears fancy buckskin, front-end guns, was riding a big paint horse. I saw him hanging around here last night. You mean they suspect the Indian only because of his clothes and gear? Not only that. I hear a cowpoke from some nearby spread saw that Indian yesterday morning riding with three armories who answered the description of the crooks. I reckon the sheriff will make him talk one way or another. I doubt it. See you later. Still without his mask and with his features disguised, the Lone Ranger walked along the street to the front of the jail where a small group of men were talking. Did the sheriff get him the coat? The old father risked it and said anything except that he doesn't know the crooks or anything about the rubber. Maybe he's telling the truth, Deputy. Eh? Don't be a local, Mr. That cowpoke who tipped off the sheriff described that engine even before we saw him right in the town this morning. Where's the cowpoke now? He's in the sheriff's office. I may be able to add something to what he's told the sheriff about the Indian. In that case, you better go right in and see the sheriff. I think that's what I'll do. Well, that red skin still keeps me. What do you want, Mr. Good morning, Sheriff. I heard about the Indian you picked up for questioning. Eh? What about him? Has he talked yet? Oh, yeah. Hold on, stranger. Why did you come in here asking me questions? I thought of a plan that might help you, Sheriff. Oh, is this the man who tipped you off about him? Yeah, yeah. He works out the Bar-C spread. That's right. What, the Bar-C? How's Mr. Calhoun's rheumatism these days? Oh, well, he's getting along all right. I see. Glad to hear it. Eh, look, Mr. if you have a plan that might help. Since the Indian refuses to talk, Sheriff, I suggest you turn him loose and have him followed. He may lead you on your men to the height of the crook. Maybe that's a good idea. I don't think so, Sheriff. If I were you, I'd keep him in jail. When my friends and I, that is the fellas at the ranch and I talked it over, we figured maybe if you kept the red skin long enough, say, through tonight, his bells might try to help him escape. We could all be watching and grab him. I think my plan is better, Sheriff. He'd be sure to lead you to the height of the crook. I'm inclined to agree with you. Don't listen to him, Sheriff. Do what I suggested. We're sure to catch him that way. Nope, nope, I decided. I'll tip the men off to what we're going to do. Then in a little while, we'll turn the Indian loose and then trail him. In that case, I'm going back to the ranch. I tipped you off about the red skin since you don't want to take my advice. Well, I think letting him go and trail him was a better plan. Well, I hope you have luck. How long? How soon are you going to let the Indian go, Sheriff? As soon as I go out and tip off the posse, we'll keep out of sight until he rides from town. Then we'll trail him. I might as well go tell the men to get ready right now. The whole ranger in disguise went outside with the sheriff. Then while the sheriff was talking to the men, the masked man slipped away from the crowd and noticed that went to the cell window behind the jail, making sure he wasn't observed. He pulled himself up and called to tunnel. Oh. He was savvy. Them saying he spied for crooks. Yes, I know. The man who tipped off the sheriff was lying, of course. I really don't believe he was also lying when he said he worked at the bar sea spread. Ha. He rode away a few months ago. I'm going to trail him. You'll be released and then followed by the posse. Where you want me to go? Pick up my trail and I'll go. I'll follow the man who just left town and leave a clear trail for you. You'll take him one across. He is very possible. Anyway, that's what I hope. Be sure to leave clear tracks for the posse to follow. That's yours. That's yours. The lone ranger quickly went on foot to the grove where he had left silver. Easy peasy. Come on, sir. The lone ranger had seen the quick burn riding from town, as he and the sheriff left the jail. So it was easy for him to pick up Vern's trail. Meanwhile, Vern arrived at the hideout cabin. Oh, ho, ho. You see. Glad working, Vern. It worked alright as far as getting the Indian picked up in jail. Good. Tonight we'll stay in the trees behind the jail. The masked man is sure to go there to help out the police. I'm going to take him to the bar sea spread. He's in the jail. The masked man is sure to go there to help him escape. Then we'll gun him both. That part of the plan slipped up, Chad. What? Another ombre persuaded the sheriff to let the red skin loose sometime soon, so the posse could train him, thinking he'd go to our hideout. Yeah. That Indian will just lead him on a wild goose chase. I'll come and let the other ombre out talk you. Who was he? I don't know. He's a tall, well-built fellow, and I notice he carried mighty fancy guns. What are you, fool? What's the matter? That could have been the masked man I told you about. But he wasn't wearing a mask. Who would have disguised his face and gone there without his mask? If it was the man I'm thinking of, he'd be smart enough to trail you here. Holy mackerel. We've got a van most while we have to change. No. We'll go up the trail a ways and wait behind some big boulders. If he does come along, we'll gun him, then leave the territory. Let's go. The danger soon approached. Just before rounding a bend in the trail, the great stadium's silver threw up his head and snipped the air. The slight breeze blowing toward him had brought the scent of humans. Sensing danger, silver broke his stride and gave a low whinny a warning. Relationship and understanding between the masked man and his horse were close. The old ranger realized that silver had warned him of danger on the trail ahead. He dismounted and led silver in among the trees. Then concealed by the tall, thick underbrush, he cautiously moved off to the side. He saw the big boulders beside the trail, and circling, he soon reached a low rocky ridge above and behind them. He saw the three crooks waiting with drawn guns. Their backs were to him, and just as he stood up and started toward them, the crook burn turned. Hey! The other two had turned and dropped as burn called out. The lone ranger crouched behind some rocks on the slope of the ridge as they exchanged shots. Chatham Cal had knelt behind some thick bushes near the big boulders, and as they waited for the lone ranger to show himself, Chath spoke in a low voice. Cal, throw a letter down and hold his attention. I'll crawl along the brush and try to get behind them on the ridge. All right, Chatham. Chath moved like a snake through the underbrush. While Cal drew the lone ranger's fire, the outlaw leaders slowly but surely made his way in a circle to the ridge. Then moving carefully, hidden by the thick mesquite, he finally reached a position behind the lone ranger. Chath slowly got to his feet, then started to raise his gun. You're not shooting? Big gun. Now let me go. Half-lone ranger. In another moment, Toto was beside the maskman who had just realized his narrow escape. Toto, he came just in time. I should have guessed Mifflin would try a stunt like this. Uh, him pretty smart. Know how to move like a snake. We hear shooting. We scout into the hole. What? There's one more to guess. Only defense is low. I've got to get the drop on it. I heard Chath Mifflin cry out and for a moment became panicky. Vernon with a shoulder wound was useless and Carol realized he was left to carry on the plot alone. He crouched out of sight behind the bushes, then decided to crawl around the boulders and make a getaway. Just as he started to carry out his plan, the lone ranger stepped from behind the boulders. Dr. Gunford. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. You and the others are through. I'm all cocked now. Yes. They take these two over the other one with a gully. They tie their wounds and tie them. Let's go. Chath Mifflin and his two pals were brought together. The lone ranger and Carol bandaged their wounds. They had just finished tying them when the posse arrived. We heard the shooting. Great Indian, you two strangers. You must have been in with the crooks. If we were, Sheriff, we wouldn't have wounded them and tied them. Look, there's the car folk who kicked you off about the engine, Sheriff. They plug him and tied him. He's not a car folk. He never works with a bar-sea spread. Remember, Sheriff, in your office, I asked about Mr. Calhoun's rheumatism? Yeah, but... I knew Silas Calhoun. He died some months ago. You want to know that? Right. That's right. The moment it slipped my mind. We trailed Mifflin and his two crooked friends to this territory. I'm sure you'll find the tall one is Mifflin. They robbed a bank in town. I noticed a cabin down there in the hollows. Searched for the cabin. Another saddle bag should verify when I tell you. Hey, Deputy, go down there with a couple of men and look around. Right. Within the short time, the deputy and his men returned bringing three horses. Sure, cash still done up in bankwrappers was in their saddlebags. And I found this hand-billing one of them with a description of Chet Mifflin on it. Let me see here. Bushy eyebrows, black hair, mustache, tall, scar on right temple. Yep, that one lying there, Chet Mifflin on it. Mifflin plan having the Indian picked up as a ruse to bring me out into the open, Sheriff. He must have found out we were following him. That's all right. We finished our work here. We leave these crooks in the hands of the sheriff and head back toward Pecos. And we're sure thankful for your help in catching these crooks, Mr. That's all right, Sheriff. Forget to our horses now. Adios, everybody. All right. Hold on. Wait a minute. By the thunder, I have to know more about that Indian than you, Mr. Come back, I say. Oh, dry up, Sheriff. Don't try to put on an ant. What do you mean? You must have known all the time that he's the Lone Ranger. This is a feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated, created by George W. Trenville, produced by Trenville Campbell Mure Incorporated, directed by Charles D. Livingston, and edited by Fran Stryker. The part of the Lone Ranger is played by Brace Beamer.