 By special recording the Lone Ranger. A fiery horse with a speed of light, a cloud of dust and a hearty hi-yo silver. The Lone Ranger. Before this exciting adventure, a word from our sponsor. With his faithful Indian companion title, the daring and resourceful mask 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 horse Silver. The Lone Ranger rides again. Come on Silver! Let's go Bigfoot! I am Silver! The town of Oro, Colorado was built over the tunnels of the globe gold mine. The mine had not been worked for years. But the tunnels were of great interest to Dirk Durango, a bank robber and highwayman. Durango and three of his former companions met in an old hoist shack that covered one of the vertical shafts near town. I called you boys together to hear my plans for robbing the bank. You see that hole in the middle of the floor? Yeah, top of an old mine shaft, isn't it, Dirk? Yeah. There's a ladder going down to a tunnel of the globe mine. Where's the tunnel lead to? Under the town. There are no end of tunnels under Oro. They run in old directions. The Diggins is a regular Chinese puzzle. I'll begin to savvy. Under the center of town, there are tunnels on a higher level. And I'm sure there's one just about 20 feet beneath the bank. By digging up from the roof of that tunnel, we should be able to go right through the floor of the bank. Dirk, you said those tunnels are like a Chinese puzzle. How do you figure on finding the right one? How do you keep them getting lost? It's like I've got the answer right here in this letter. This is from a mining engineer named Mark Haslund. Who's he? He was the engineer for the globe mine. I read a bottom in the mining journal and wrote him a letter. Since then, we've been writing back and forth. Does he know who you are? I used a fake name and gave my address as general delivery. Well, the engineer should know the layout of the tunnel. That's what I figured. And that was right. He has charts showing every detail of the Diggins. Dirk, how could you get the charts without letting Haslund know what you've got in mind? I told him I had a new mine near town and wanted to break through into the globe tunnels to ventilate it. That's all I've done, you know. I offered Haslund $5,000 to come here with his charts and fix up a ventilation system. It was smart. Is he coming? Yeah. Well, you tell him when he sees you don't have a mine. He'll never see that. He agreed to meet me at Salvation Spring. That's 10 miles west of town tomorrow morning. You go with me, Slag. Whatever you say, Dirk, we'll shoot Haslund and take the diagram of the tunnels. Then we'll be set to clean out the bank. The following morning, the Lone Ranger and Tonto rode through a woods, approaching Salvation Spring from the west, while Dirk and Slag, who had been riding in the opposite direction through the woods surrounding the waterhole, drew rain, dismounting the advance through the underbrush to the edge of the clearing. They saw a man near the spring at the far side of the clearing, about 100 yards away. Dirk said, There he is, Slag. At that moment, the Lone Ranger and Tonto were near the opposite side of the clearing. The mask man suddenly signaled a halt and pointed ahead. Someone's came to Salvation Spring. Looking through the trees, Tonto saw a tall, dark man, less than 20 yards beyond the edge of the woods. He looked this way, Kimusubby. He probably heard our horses. Him hurt? That shot came from the other side of the clearing. Two men there. Try to help the man who shot. I'll go after the gunman. Dirk and Slag, only partially screened by brushwood, were amazed to see a mask man dash from the woods and charge toward them. Dirk started shooting, and the Lone Ranger returned the fire. The distance was too great for accuracy with six guns. Then Slag's rifle cracked. The Lone Ranger dropped the reins, reeled in the saddle, then a silver halted fell to the ground. Me, get him! Easy, cut easy! Get him up! Tonto leaped into the saddle, firing as he raced across the clearing to avenge his mask friend. But the outlaws didn't linger. Running to their horses, they leaped to the saddles and fled. A short time later, the Lone Ranger regained consciousness. To find himself lying on the ground in the woods near Salvation Spring. Tonto was bandaging a scalpel. Tonto, you all right, Kimsummie? Bullet just grazed head. Knock you out. But where, who? Let me carry you here. Two men. Ah. Then get away. Yes, I remember. I shot a man camp near the spring. Him there, under blanket. Him dead. Murder. Did you learn the identity of the dead man? No. But him got surveyors too. I noticed that. He fined plenty papers in Sandelfag. Them all there on ground. I'll look them over. Meanwhile, you'd better see if the killer left any tracks. Me do that. Then ride to Oro and tell the sheriff what happened. While Tonto was gone, the Lone Ranger examined the dead man's possessions. He read several letters and studied a number of technical drawings. It was afternoon when Tonto returned accompanied by a middle-aged lawman. Oh, scum. Oh, scum. He's scum. He's scum. Kimusabe. Me follow crooks to town. Loose trail there. Me bring Sheriff Barstow back. Your ancient friend told me about you, mister. You got a thing to prove you're the Lone Ranger? Here's an identification card signed by the federal marshal of this district. Ah, see. Well, that satisfies me. Tonto told me about the murder. I'll lift this blanket, Sheriff Barstow. Do you know the dead man? Yes. That's Mark Haslett. He worked for the Globe Mine in Oro before it peered out. Wonder what he was doing back here. Well, I found some letters and papers that may answer your question. Here they are. The letters are signed to John Tate. I never heard of him. One of the letters offers Haslett a job. Yes. It's this one I'm reading. Let's see. There's no mine near enough to town to hook up to the old Globe Tunnels as this letter suggests. Only mine's around here in the mountains north of Oro. Well, what do you make of the correspondence? Well, offhand, I'd say Haslett was lured into a death trap. By the man who wrote those letters? Yes. I'd sure like to find this John Tate. Probably a fake name. He gave his address as general delivery. The postmaster might be able to describe him. Hell, I doubt it. Oro is full of strangers who have their mail sent to general delivery. Did you get a good look at the killers? No, they were screened by brushwood and I had only a glimpse of them at a distance. But I'll be glad to help you find them. Well, I'll need help. We might bait a trap for them. A trap? Yes. I'll serve as live bait. Well, what do you mean? The man who shot Haslett can't know whether he's alive or dead. And I'm sure they didn't know him by sight. Not if John Tate's one of the killers. He says in this letter that he'll need a description to recognize Haslett. The engineer was shot in the back. So the killers still haven't seen his face. Not even at a distance. What are you getting at? I'm about the same size as Haslett. I'm sure I can wear his hat and coat. You mean disguise yourself as him? Yes. I'll wear his gun, then take his charts and equipment and ride his horse into town. His face is paler than yours. Well, I have make-up material to lighten my complexion. Sheriff, if the killers mistake me for Haslett and see my head bandaged as it is, they'll think they merely wounded the engineer. In which case? They might make another play to kill him. Well, that's what I'm counting on. It'll bring them into the open. You're taking a big risk. But your plan might work. I'm sure it's worth trying, Sheriff. Can you keep Haslett's death a secret? Yes. I'll take the body into town after dark. The coronal corroborate when I tell them the plans. Good. You want to leave your horse in the stable behind the jail? Oh, yes, Sheriff, thanks. I'll leave my gun belt and some of my clothes there, too. Uh, me take them there after dark. We'll all wait until after dark to enter the town. Me keep watch on you, Kim and Savvy? Yes, Tato. Keep the sheriff posted on what happens, but don't interfere until I signal you. Me, Savvy. And you'd better wear a disguise. Oro is full of ragged, youth Indian beggars. Tato, my dress is one of them. I do. I sure hope we get those crooks before they kill the Lone Ranger. We'll continue our Lone Ranger adventure in just a moment. Now to continue. That evening, the Lone Ranger disguised as Haslett sat in the hotel dining room in town. Dirk saw him there and introduced himself. A few minutes later, they rode out of town. As the two men dismounted at the hoist house, Dirk explained, I may use this shit as a temporary office, Mr. Haslett. I assume she hates to want to meet you inside. Very well. Sit right in. Thanks. Now, boys, this is Haslett. Howdy. Howdy. Now, Haslett, break your head. What? Heist him, man. You heard the boss. What do you mean? Take his gun, slaggy. I got it. Cal, you go outside and stand guard. Let me know if anyone comes near him. Right? What's the meaning of this? You're hazing me or joking? I don't... It's no joke. Keep your hands up. Keep them covered, Jim. I am. Slag the Charter in this coat pocket. Hand them to me. Right. Here they are, Dirk. Now I might as well finish the job we started this morning. No, no. Don't kill them yet. I want to look over these charts and make sure they're what we need. Oh, you're the man who shot me. Why do you want to kill me? What have I done to you? We got nothing against you, Haslett. It's just that we can't afford to let you live. It identifies as a man who took your charts. But what do you want? That would mean identifying us as a man who robbed the bank. Oh, that's your plan. Slag, you talk too much. Ah, what's the difference, Jim? This gentleman will never be able to tell what he knows. Obviously, you intend to cut through the floor of the bank from a tunnel. Ah, you're savvy. Are those charts what you want, Dirk? Yeah. It'll take time, but I think we can figure them out. I'd be in the case. It's time to shoot, Haslett. Oh, wait. You need more than those charts to find the tunnel that runs beneath the bank? What do we need? A survey above ground to chart the location of the bank. You'll have to measure the distances very accurately and the compass direction. While the Lone Ranger outlined the problem, Tonto, who had followed his friend from town, saw the guard in front of the hoist house and remained at a distance to avoid discovery. The Indian didn't suspect that the Lone Ranger's life hung by a thread. You see, those charts are worthless for your purpose, unless you have a surface survey. You know, Dirk, I think he's right. What he said makes sense to me. Haslett's survey and instruments are on his horse. Do we either of you know how to use them? I don't. Neither does Cal. Neither do I. In that case, Haslett, I'm going to change my plans as far as you're concerned. I'll give you a chance to stay alive. Yes. You make the surveys and do the calculating for us. And after we have the money from the bank, we'll let you go free. You may not keep your word, but I'll have to trust you. I have no choice. I'll accept your proposition. The work began early the following morning. The Lone Ranger, still posing as Haslett, had decided to play along with the crooks for the time being and knew enough about surveying to use the transit and direct Jim and Cal who carried the rod and chain. While Dirk and Slag stood guard at his side, he was looking through the transit in the center of town when Sheriff Barstow came from the jail, which was across the street from the bank. What's going on, Jets? Hello, Jim. We're surveying for a branch line that'll connect Oro to the CNR railroad. Oh, so that's it. I've seen you men around town wondering what your business is. Now the secret's out. The railroad will be a fine thing for this town. We need a lot of new people coming here for business. While the sheriff spoke, the Lone Ranger pretended to jot down figures in his surveyor's logbook. Actually, he wrote a note, concealed it in his hand, then looked up as the sheriff said, Hello, Haslett. Glad to see you. How have you been? While shaking hands, the Lone Ranger passed the folded note to the sheriff. The Lone Ranger finished his work on the surface before dark last night worked underground by lantern light. While Cal remained on guard at the hoist house, Dirk, Jim and Slag stayed close to the man who posed as Haslett. Using a compass, level, measuring chain and other instruments, the Lone Ranger finally reached his destination and pointed to the tunnel ceiling. Start there and go straight up. Standing on ladders, the men took turns excavating a chimney-like opening in the tunnel ceiling. When they stopped at daybreak, the work was over two-thirds finished. The following night, found Cal once more on guard at the hoist house when the others resumed work. Inside the opening, there was room for only one man to dig. After some time, Jim took his turn. He stood on ladders tied together, loosening the dirt and stones overhead with a pry bar. On the tunnel floor, the Lone Ranger was closely watched by Slag and Dirk. We ought to be through them a little while, Dirk. Haslett's calculations are right. They better be. Haslett, if you've given us any wrong direction... Hey, Dirk, I hear footsteps. Someone's coming through the tunnel. Stand still, Haslett. I got a gun against your back. Dirk! It's Cal. Yeah, what's wrong? Nothing. I got a prisoner in that zone. As Cal approached, carrying a gun in one hand and a lantern in the other, the Lone Ranger recognized Tonto dressed as a ragged mute Indian walking ahead of the outlaw. I caught this engine falling around the hoistage. Did you search him for weapons? Sure. He had a knife and a gun under his blanket. I'll take him. I thought you might want to question him or something, so I brought him here. Hey, can't be bothered with him now. Keep an eye on him till we're through. Maybe a better time. Hey, Dirk! Yeah, what is it, Jim? I just struck a flat stone with my bar. Yeah? I think it's the underside of the flagstone floor. Well, be careful. It doesn't drop in your head. Right. Though Dirk and Slag stood tense and expectant, they didn't relax their vigilant watch on the disguised Lone Ranger and Tonto. Both crooks held guns ready to fire, if either prisoner made an aggressive move. It's coming. I got it. Look out below. What's up there? An opening. We're through to the bank. I'm climbing in. Yeah. What do you see? Nothing. Send someone up to the land. I'll take a lantern up to him, Dirk. Go ahead, Joe. The Lone Rangers stood tense and ready to act. He watched Dirk and Slag, and presently saw both outlaws glance up where. Oh, Tonto! He grabbed Dirk's gunhand, while Tonto swung a fist to Slag's jaw. As the outlaw staggered back, he raised his gun. The shop went wild. Tonto closed in. You'll not shoot again? Slapping the gun aside, he delivered a knockout blow. Meanwhile, the Lone Rangers struggled with Dirk for possession of the gun. You're not on me, will you? Never get away alive! Tonto, Jim! Come on down here. Give me a hand. Please help your kingdom, Harry. No, Tonto. Watch that man on the ground. Drop that gun, Dirk. Drop my arm. Drop that gun or I'll break your arm. Tonto, Jim, help me. Don't count him. I'm dropping the gun, Jim. As the outlaw's gun dropped from his fingers, the Lone Ranger took from Dirk's belt the weapon that had been taken from Tonto. You're covered. You hasten to jump. Tonto, how's the man you knocked out? He'll get conscious now. Good. That'll save carrying him up the ladder. How's everything down there? Under control, Sheriff. Good. We've got handcuffs from the two that came up here. Sheriff, what's he doing in the bank? He's not in the bank, Dirk. He's one of the jail cells. Jail cells? Yes. You mean we're not in the bank? We're into the jail? That's right. With the warrant... Ready for these prisoners, Sheriff? We sure are. You're a first, Dirk. Climb that ladder. Oh, thanks. My job. You nearly broke it. It's your neck that will be broken, Slag. That's the penalty for murder. Murder? Yes. Now climb that ladder. A short time later, the four outlaws were securely locked in a cell with a floor that was solid. The sheriff, standing outside the barred door, eyed the prisoners and said, You know, I doubt if any crooks have ever worked as hard as you four to get into a jail. Yeah, that double-crossing haslet. I know he was tricking us. He handed me a note, told me his plans, so we could be here waiting for you. Sheriff, what do you mean when he said something about a murder? We didn't kill anyone. Yes, you did. You crooks are going on trial for the murder of Haslott. What kind of a raw deal is that? Haslott's not dead. We didn't kill him. Haslott is dead. And you crooks killed him. But he left here just a few minutes ago without Indian. He posed as Haslott to make you crooks show your hand. But he's not Haslott. He's the Lone Ranger. Lone Ranger, a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated is produced by Trendle Campbell Muir Incorporated. A part of the Lone Ranger is played by Brace Beamer, your announcer, Fred Foy. Listen to the Lone Ranger brought to you by Special Recording at this same time.