 with the speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty house, silver, the lone ranger. With his faithful Indian companion, Tonto, the masked rider of the planes 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. 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, in the thundering hoofbeats of the great horse, Silver. The lone ranger rides again. Come on, Silver! Let's go big fellow! Come on, Silver! It was late afternoon in the small mining settlement of Blue River, U.S. Deputy Marshal Neil Baker stood in the open doorway of the Wells Fargo Express office talking to the agent, Jim Raleigh. Raleigh was busy behind the counter, getting ready to close the office for the day. And in the doorway, as the Deputy Marshal spoke, his eyes traveled constantly, up and down the narrow, dusty street. You can go on home whenever you're ready to close up, Jim. You look like you could take on some rest yourself. Well, I'll take on plenty of sleep after I take care of Thunder Morgan. Yeah, that big wing bag. It's been almost a week since you got that load. You ought to be satisfied, but now it was a bluff. Yeah, maybe it was, and maybe it wasn't. I never in all my life heard of a man aiming to commit a robbery and writing to the law to tell him about it in advance. You don't serve me this Morgan fellow like I do, Jim. I am, Marshal. Still waiting for Thunder Morgan to rob the express office? No, you numbskull. I'm getting ready to rob the place myself as soon as you get out of sight. Let me get up a lot on the sofa. Jim would have buzzered now. I tell you, Neil, that note Morgan sent you. If it was Morgan that sent you... I'm satisfied it was. Well, that was just meant to get on your nerves. He's probably planning some job a hundred miles away. And let me tell you something, fella. Thunder Morgan's been in jail once in his life, savvy. Yeah? Yeah. And it was me that put him there. He's a bad ombre, Jim. Plumb poison through and through, and he's plenty powerful. Anyway, you want to look at it. You're telling me what everybody knows? Everybody don't know Thunder Morgan like I do. And I'm telling you right here and now, he ain't never been known to bluff. He ain't, huh? There's only one thing that buzzard enjoys more than breaking the law. And that's laughing in the face of the law. You mean if he was to send you a note and say that he was going to rob the place far gone? Better know if for God it, he's already done that. Yeah, but if he was to go ahead and do it, that had set him in plenty solid with his gang. Morgan's a loudmouth. Always was. But he's a killer. And he's been known to risk his neck before to make good a brag. Well, you're going to stay, huh? Been here every night for a week. The minute you close the office till you come back next morning. When Mr. Thunder Morgan comes along, you'll find me waiting for him with a sex gun in each fist. Well, I'll go out and lock the door. You sure don't envy you sitting up here in the dark all night? Yeah, don't you feel sorry for me? That's my job and I'm doing what I get paid for. But anytime that loudmouth, all hooters thinks he can put one of... Hey! You ain't closing up already, are you? I bet I am, mister. What's on your mind? Got a trunk here to ship out by his friends. Well, hustle up and get it in here. Won't go out a morning anyway. Set it over on the scales. I'll weigh it up and give you the charges. Where's it go to? Address is on the label. It goes to St. Louis. St. Louis, huh? Pretty heavy for express. It's a... 200... 220... 260 pounds. How much will it be? Let me figure a minute. I have to charge you for 300. That'll come to, uh... Let me see. $16. All right. Come on, Joe. Help me set this over here on the way. Sure. Much obliged to you, mister. Yeah, sure. Well, good night, Neil. See you in the morning. Good night. Throughout the evening, the deputy marshals sat in the darkened express office. In time to time, he arose from his chair and went to the window to glance up and down the partially lighted street. He studied the heavy iron bars that covered each window and examined the stout oaken bars across the front and rear doors. Regularly, to relieve the tension, the lawman drew the heavy 45 from its holster and examined for the utmost care. Then, slowly in the faint yellow light that filtered in from the street, the lid of the big trunk in the corner opened. Slowly, noiselessly, a moment later, Neil Baker stopped abruptly as his keen ears detected a slight sound. Then, as the lawman whirled about... Hey, what the for you, law dog? Sure. You didn't figure I was going to disappoint you, did you? Too bad some of you tin stars don't believe what a fellow tries to tell you. They found deputy marshall Neil Baker in the morning lying where he'd fallen, with a knife in his back. On the counter was a note, written in the hand of Thunder Morgan. Next time you hear from Thunder Morgan, don't make the mistake of thinking that he's bluffing. Baker never thought he was bluffing. No, but the rest of us did. And it costs Neil Baker his life. What about the strongbox? That go on, too? Of course. Maybe we can get the strongbox back. Baker, he ain't never coming back. Not ever. What's to be done about it, Jim? He telegraphed the United States marshall at Sweetwater. We can send another telegram. The army outposts at Rio. While we're waiting for them to show up, we can get a posse together and... What's the matter? What you staring at? We've been wondering how Thunder Morgan managed it. This trunk is the answer. What's the trunk got to do about it? Two men festered in here last night. One that shipped to St. Louis this morning on the eastbound. Now, remember weighing it in. 260 pounds it was. What? You mean to say you think... I don't think I know. You can see for yourself that it's empty, can't you? Most of that 260 pounds was Thunder Morgan's murder in Carcass. The dirty rotten killer. Come on. Who wants to volunteer for posse do they? Well, then let's get started. Hey, you, Indian. You want to ride with us? I'll never mind the red skin, Jim. He's probably scared to death he'll meet up with Thunder Morgan. It was nearly an hour later when the Indian Tonto rained his lathered paint horse to a plunging stop at a secluded campsite high up in the Cascade Hill Country. Oh, who's gone? Hope on a hoe. Hope on a hoe. Kimosabe. Hi, Kimosabe. What's happened, fellow? Thunder Morgan, fellow. Him go to Blue River, kill the United States Deputy Marshal and Robb Express Office. Morgan? How do you know it was Thunder Morgan, fellow? Tonto hear fellas talk in town. Then say Morgan, fellow, write note to lawman. Make big talk and what him do. Sounds like something he'd do. How did he manage to make good his boast? Did anyone take the threat seriously? Ah, Neil Baker. Him stand guard at Express Office for most a week. Then last night, two fellas come to Express Office with big trunk, want it shipped away. And inside the trunk they carry the man who had sworn to kill Neil Baker. That's right. And during the night, Morgan, fellow, get out of trunk, kill lawman, then Robb Express Office and get away. Yes, Oliver. Well, Fargo, fellow, him send telegraph to U.S. Marshal at Sweetwater and to soldiers at Rio. Say, big fella, I'll all be needed if it comes to a showdown with Morgan's gang. Outlaws have plenty big hideout in Hill. That's just it. One or two men will stand a better chance of finding that hideout than a whole group of soldiers. Ready? He's ready. Big fella, let's go. Get him up. Come on, Silver. Across the length and breadth of the territory, the telegraph wires flash the news that Thunder Morgan had made good another boast. Once more, the desperado laughed at the law, the law that he hated and which hated him. And then, one of the greatest man hunts in all the history of that lawless country was begun. From the south, through 40 miles of burning desert land came the cavalrymen. While in Sweetwater, the overland stage company quickly turned out a special coach to carry the United States Marshal and his deputies to the scene of the crime. Meanwhile, riding deeper and deeper into the treacherous cascade country, the masked rider and his faithful companion, Tonto, searched constantly for some sign of the fugitive. Plenty of places and hills for many men to hide. Plenty of places for an ambush, too. Tonto, keep sharp watch, King Masabi. A dozen men with rifles could hold up. Tonto, look. Ah, me see it. Both got hold of a boy. Easy. Unless I'm badly mistaken, that's a strong box that was stolen from Wells Fargo last night. Me? Me get it. No sign of trail near here. Then we'll find the trail we're looking for up above. The box was smashed open by someone at the top of the ridge and discarded. Come on, Silver. Get on, scout. Urging their horses up the steep incline, the lone ranger and Tonto swiftly covered the short distance to the top, unaware of the man who lays sprawl beneath a showering brush, his cold, beady eyes watching them draw closer, his hands clutching a rifle that pointed unwaveringly at the masked man's broad chest. Oh, Silver. Oh, boy. Easy. Oh, father. King Masabi, look. See dead horse over there? Yes, I see him, Tonto. And, sir, it was Thunder Martin's horse, ridden to death by that crazy killer. And me, go look. Maybe find trail where he'll go. Hold it right there, both of you. What's that? Move that. Make one move and you'll find a trail you ain't never traveled before. This rifle's got a hair trigger. If you don't want the buzzers to have more than dead horse, you better do what you're told. Careful, Tonto. You haven't told us what to do yet. And I'll tell you first. Put your hands up on that and step out of the saddle. All right. What's over? Easy, boy. Now, you, Redskinned, you do the same and no tricks. Now, you there, big fella. I'm taking this white horse of yours, Savi. Is that all? That's what I was, didn't I? You don't need a one of you move a muscle if you don't want to get blasted. The kingdom come. Hey, what's the idea of the mask, huh? I'm thinking you must be Thunder Morgan. Never mind answering questions with more questions. I ask you what the mask's for. You are Thunder Morgan. There are other stupid questions. What? Thunder Morgan will have pretty definite ideas about the use of a mask. Well, just in case it means anything to you, gents. I am Thunder Morgan, see? I also got pretty solid notions about how to use this rifle. And if you don't... What else? 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. Now to continue our story. The Lone Ranger saw the sudden, insane gleam that lighted the man's eyes before him. He noted, too, the convulsive tightening of Thunder Morgan's finger on the trigger finger, and as he shallered a warning to his companion, the mask man's right hand drove with blinding speed for the holster. You lack plenty of haste. Get him out! Get him out! Let me get him! What happened? Maybe Thunder Morgan meat lightning, huh? And you hold still and me get gunned. Yeah, but I don't savvy. I had to drop on your cold. Like you've had a cold drop on too many men before, Morgan? Yeah, it ain't possible. Smash my rifle before I could even squeeze a trigger. Tired hand behind his back, Tonto. He can ride your horse back to town. You and I'll ride Silver. Wait a minute. You call the engine Tonto? No horse. That's Silver, huh? So I reckon you must be the Lone Ranger. Hey, hey, hey. Don't get easy. Now you hold still. Tonto tie you good killer. Well, I'll be. You should have plugged up both of you when you started up the ridge. Hey, hey, hey. What do you think you're doing, engine? Mix him, Tonto. Kimosabi. Yeah. This money can take from the express office. Put it in my saddlebags, Tonto. You, Morgan, get on that paint. You're going back to Blue River to stand trial for murder. Yeah? Always turn your prisoners over to the law, huh? Get aboard that paint and get started. Oh, I remember that Neil Baker was a friend of mine. Sure. Sure, Mr. Lone Ranger. I'll ride your partner's paint pony to the jail. And after I get there, I'll be riding one of my own horses back to the hill. You, Thunderfeller, make too much thunder with mouth. Now you get on horse or walk. Sure. You'll have to give me a boost. Kind of tough getting the board with my hands tight. Now give you good bath in Brooke's scouter after you carry scoundrel. You fellas over here are thunder, Morgan, making a brag that didn't hold good. Meaning what? Meaning that you can't find a jail how strong enough to hold me, that's what. Is that a big fella? Let's go, Tonto. Come on, Silver. Morgan, you're likely to spoil your record if you start bragging about how you're going to break out of jail. I don't have to break out. I've got plenty of men ready and willing to do their job for me, Maskman. Right now you'd better concentrate on staying in that saddle. Get up, Scout. Come on, Silver. It was late afternoon when the Lone Ranger and Tonto came out of the hills with their prisoner. The outlaw had never failed to make good on a boast. For more than an hour, Thunder Morgan had been bragging. As the man talked, an idea was forming in the mind of the man's writer. Hey, Jay, that won't be in that caliber. It's five minutes before someone in my gang will know about it. And then you're going to see... Hey, what are you stopping for? You've given me an idea, Morgan. A wonderful idea. Hello. Ah. This is where you change horses. You and Morgan take Scout and go to our camp. Ah. But what do you do, Keema Thubby? I'm going to see if just once we can't spoil one of Thunder Morgan's schemes. Where Tonto see you? I don't meet you at camp within an hour after dark. Take your prisoner to Blue River and turn him over to the marshal. Hey, what's the idea? Come on, Silver. You will hang on, Silver. That's a pretty good idea for you. Get him up Scout. The cavalryman from the Rio Outpost under the command of Lieutenant John Frisbee had covered more than 30 miles of unbelievably tough country since morning. Now as the commanding officer stood in the stirrups and signaled a halt. The men stared at the figure which came racing with breathtaking speed toward them. A masked man. Easy. Get your hands up, Mr. and state your business. My business has to do with Thunder Morgan. And so does ours. If you're a one of these men, if you try to catch an outlaw from the Cascades, Lieutenant, it'll be dark before you get into the hills tonight. If your men are ambushed before daylight, you'll find the men you're after have disappeared. Disappeared? Easy, Silver. Thunder Morgan's band of outlaws know where and how to hide when they have two stonings. We'll worry about them later. Right now we're interested in one man alone. Thunder Morgan. I can take you to him in less than an hour. So you're selling out the big chief, huh? I'll help you to corral the whole bunch if you'll let me. A minute ago, you made some remark about my men being ambushed. You got ideas along that line? You can keep a gun in my back if you're worried about that. You want me to take you to Thunder Morgan? Where is he? Follow me, Lieutenant. Oh, Silver! What the... Help us! How are you, Kimosabi? How are you? You bring soldiers to take Morgan, Thunder? Yes, they're taking him, Tondo. But not as is. Here's your man, Lieutenant. You really have got Thunder Morgan a prisoner. I didn't believe you. Neither did he when we first met. Hey, what's the idea? Put those ropes off of him, Tondo, and hurry it up. What kind of... Shut up, killer. I'm taking your clothing. What? You're going to take my clothes? What for? To find out if that gang of yours is as good as you seem to think. What do you mean? You said they'd know you were in jail five minutes after you got there. They wouldn't waste any time in breaking you out. Sure, but... They're going to know that Thunder Morgan's in jail. They won't know that I'm taking his place. The laughter we find your hideout. And meanwhile, Morgan, you will be on your way to Rio with a squad of troopers. Lieutenant, would you go ahead into Blue River and get everything arranged with the Marshal? You bet I will. As soon as I get into Morgan's clothes and Tondo disguises my face, you'll bring me in with my hands tied behind me. I'll see that the Marshal knows what's up. More important, make sure there's no one around the jail when Morgan's men come to get me out. Don't worry. All right. Come on, Tondo, let's hurry. It was nearly midnight when Tondo, riding his paint horse and leading a plain-looking horse, barred from a cavalry trooper, rode up the single street of Blue River with his prisoner. As he came up to the jail, the Marshal stepped out onto the street and said loudly, Hey, what the... Who you got there, engine? Me catch Thunder Morgan, fella. Bring him to jail. Morgan? Well, I'll be done. Thunder Morgan. Hey, come see. Some engine just brought in Thunder Morgan. Hurry up. Let's get inside. There'll be a crowd here in jig time, and they might be in an ugly temper. Come on, get a move on. Hurry inside. It's going to be up to you to lead the troopers to the hideout. Maybe watching them waiting for Morgan. Hurry up. Let me get you locked in here. Sure. See you later. I gotta quiet down this mob out here. Come on, Tondo. You better get out of sight before they start asking a lot of questions. Before any of you get any notions in your head, let me say that I got Thunder Morgan in jail and I aim to keep him there. Anybody gets different ideas is likely to run into trouble. You'll all get a chance to look at him when he goes to the courthouse for trial. Right now, you better get along home. It was still dark when Thunder Morgan's men appeared silently, dismounted, and made their way swiftly to the Blue River jail. They'd come prepared for any amount of resistance and were obviously surprised to find the place deserted, except for the big man who was a prisoner in the cell. What the... the place is deserted? Hey, boss. Hurry up and get me out of here. You fellas keep a sharp lookout. I'm going in. Sure, of course we did. But you mean to say there ain't even a guard around here watching you? Come here. Don't get sore. Don't... Who's got the key? Don't remind the key, you fool. Use your six-grain blast to lock the pieces. It'll be awful noisy, boss. No noisier than you are. Hurry up. All right, if you say so. Stand back. Go ahead. Let's go. There's your horse back here. Now let's go. Daylight was not far off and the band of outlaws rode into the hideout, the secret hideaway which the lawman had never been able to find. Immediately, the big man who rode in the lead with Thunder Morgan's lieutenants ran his horse to one side and issued sharp orders. Get inside and start packing. We're pulling out. What? Say, what in the blazes has come over you, boss? You've been acting like a... What did I tell you? I feel like explaining I will. Now get busy. We're leaving here inside an hour. What's the idea? Completely bewildered by the attitude of the man who they believed to be their leader, the men hurried to begin packing their gear. In the short time, they were assembled outside, ready to ride. Where's the boss? Anybody seen Thunder? No, I ain't seen him since we pulled in. If you ask me, he's acting plenty low. Well, there ain't nobody asking you. Look out! Hands from side there. Or you'll die like rats on a trap. Hold it. Hold it, you fools. There's half a hundred men up there. They got us surrounded. All right, then, get the guns. We'll take them to join their force from under Morgan. Hey, soldier, what happened to Morgan? Where is he? Let's just say that your friend Thunder ran into a streak of lightning, and let it go with that. What you have just heard is a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporate.