 a fiery horse with a speed of light, a cloud of dust and a hearty high old silver, the lone ranger. Whenever men gathered around the campfire in the early days of the western United States, stories were told of the masked rider of the plains, and those stories have come down to us through the generations. No one could match the strength and courage, the daring and resourcefulness which made him the greatest champion of justice the frontier ever knew. Return with us now those thrilling days when the west was young. From out of the past come the thundering hoof beats of the great horse Silver. The lone ranger rides again. He's still around here, I've seen him. He sure got his nerve. Shoot him on sight. Get that crook. Kill him! Kill him! I'd like to know. I thought that a ranch house was supplies and was fired at. Everywhere I was seen, horsemen took after me. That keeps strange. We haven't been in this district for over two years. There's something that requires explanation. Get the material from your saddlebag. I'm putting on a disguise and getting to the bottom of this. In the sheriff's office at Red Run, the grizzled lawman stared grimly at the sober-faced group of men standing before him. Boys, I've depotized you, fellas, because you're the hardest riding street of shooting hombres in the county. I want that fella caught, you hear me? And if you fellas can't do it, then nobody can. Any idea where he's hid out, sheriff? None at all. That's for you to find out for yourselves. Right. He's likely in the hills. Then get him. All right, you've been sworn in, you got your badges. What are you waiting for? We're all our way, sheriff. We'll scan her up and search this county from end to end. And we'll get him, too. See that you do. I ain't found. I won't hold off as past the first of the month. Blast and low down. Sheriff. Oh, howdy. I'd like to talk with you. Sorry, stranger. I ain't got the time. There's a killer loose in the county, and before I can do anything else, he's got to be caught. I'm just going down to Cafe to see if there's any more fellas on hand I could depotize. In one moment. But I tell you that... That's just what I wanted to see you about. I haven't met you before. What do you know about this? Oh, I'll tell you that when you give me the information I want. Huh? You're evidently after a masked man. A masked man riding a white horse. I see. What's he done? If you don't even know that, how can you tell me anything about it? Answer my question. Well, he's done enough. Held up the Riverside stage, stole 5,000 in dust, and killed the fellow riding the shotgun. A week later, he held up and killed young Dusty Thompson, a pony express rider. And not over three days ago, he killed them sims and stole his cattle money. There, if that... Why, if you were so anxious to get the facts, there's a fellow outside who can give them to you. Well, come in here with us. Want me, sir? That man... Stranger wants the facts about the killer. Because he can tell us something. Stranger, this is Pope Kincaid. He's seen the killer twice. You better have, mister. In both times, it was right after one of his holdups. Did you get a good look at him? Well, it was at night and pretty dark. You wouldn't be able to recognize him again, huh? Well, I'd sure know if I seen him with that mask and horse, if that's what you mean. But if I was to meet up with him again without either one, I don't reckon I would. Where did the holdups occur? Dusty and the guard on the stage was both killed just the other side of Wolf Creek. It was right after them killings I seen him. And them? Was killed passing that tank he put up last fall to hold the spring rains for his stock? He was found beside it the next morning. And you have no clues to his identity? Just one. Yes? He's bound to be somebody acquainted around here. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been likely to know the three fellas he held up and killed was Kerry and Cashworth, Steeland. Oh. That's everything. Now, what can you tell us? Oh, I haven't... Where'd he shift? Where'd he go? Afternoon, Frank. Howdy. Now, look, fellas, I gotta be on my way. You ain't here for nothing that won't keep are you, Frank? Sheriff, you hold on. Well, what is it? I want protection. Oh, protection? Protection for what? That mass killer. He threatened you? Nope. Then why? Well, wait, Sheriff. Wait till I finish. I gotta ride over to Grandet Falls tonight with a payment to the bank there. And don't tell me to wait and take the stage tomorrow because I can't wait. This Cash has to reach there for a morning. Now, how can you fix it so as I'll feel halfway safe from that blasted mask man? Well, what do you want? A guard to ride along. Frank, I can do it. You got to. How in thunder can I? Every deputy I got and everybody else I get besides is out searching the country for that crook. I can go. Of course, if I did and something happened here while I was going, there'd be the devil to pay. Really? What am I to do? I don't know unless you can hire somebody to ride along or change your mind and stay over till tomorrow. I can't have told you. I shouldn't think he'd dare to strike with lawman everywhere. Sharks know. Luckily, we won't hear nothing more until the excitement dies down. It's easy for you to say that, Poke. You wait the one has to run the risk. Well, Frank, I can't suggest but one thing. Yeah? I was just heading for the cafe. Thought maybe I could find some more good hands with a gun. Maybe there'll be somebody I can send with you. I don't want just anybody for a guard. I got too much cash to carry to risk it with anybody I ain't certain of. Yeah, how much? 3,000 in folded money to pay for that land to join in mine. Well, owns it's leaving first thing in the morning. And if I don't get the cash to him before then, the deal's off. 3,000? That's quite a sum. More not care to lose. I'll be getting on. Hey, you said you had information for me. I have. What? Last night in this morning, a masked man riding a white horse was seen in this district. The killer? No. That's what I wanted to tell you. Well, if he ain't, then who is he? Look at the bullets high enough on your desk. Perhaps that'll tell you. Bullet? What bullet? Must have meant this one here. Here, let me see that. Here, hand it over. Well, I'll be... What's the matter, Sheriff? This here bullet is made of silver. But who was it? And the only ombre I ever heard used bullets like that is the Lone Ranger. The Lone Ranger? That stranger. Where'd he go? I want him back here. I am silver. How are you? Bring the top toads. And he was here, right here in my office. That night, the Lone Ranger and his faithful Indian companion, Tonto, rode slowly across the prairie, paralleling the trail that led from Red Run to Granite Falls. We'll keep this distance, Kimosabe. Him not hear us. And we're not so close that the killer wouldn't know we're around, if he holds up Frank. The news was all over town that he was riding to Granite Falls with the money tonight. The sheriff's correct, the killer is a local man. And he must have heard the news. Not right. They may make an attempt for the money. Maybe. Especially since Frank failed to get anyone to ride with him. I have an idea that most of the men in town were afraid to go along. It ain't just to soon give the killer a wide berth. How far, Granite Falls? From here? Ah. Well, Wolf Creek is still about two miles ahead. And Pope Kincaid's place is just beyond Wolf Creek. I'd say Granite Falls is another 20 miles. And maybe, uh, shots. They're trouble. From the direction of the trail. Come on, Silver. Get him up, Scout. Get him up. Hurry, old fellow. Hurry. Urged on by the masked man, Silver leaped forward, neck out stretch. Behind him followed Scout, Tonto's powerful pace. And together the two great horses raced toward the sound of firing. As they approached the trail, however, only one mounted figure could be seen. Come on, Tonto. Get him up. Start. Start. Hurry, boy. Tonto, that's Frank Mason. Uh, alone? Oh, my God. We'll see. Get her. This old my kid. Get him. Get the crew. Oh, so, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. Oh, Scout. Which way did he go? Towards Wolf Creek. He heard you coming and got scared of any. Hey, your mask. We're not outlaws. You call that horse Silver? You're the armed rave. The train was in the Sheriff's office this afternoon. You're the Lone Ranger. You say he got your money? He was getting sent to drill me. Oh, shouts, we heard him. They must just stop me. Then come on, Tannock, we'll follow. Huh? What place? Firing again. Polk has run into somebody else. Come on, still get up there, boy. Get him up, Scout. Heading for Wolf's Creek in the sounds of fighting that came from that direction, the Lone Ranger again took the lead. He was the first to set a man lying on the creek bank at the feet of a dripping horse. Someone's been first. There looks to be folks there. The killers disappeared again. Oh, so behold. Oh, boy, Scout. What's happened here? Oh, he got away from me. You've been shot. Oh, don't mind me. Get after that sidewinder. He followed along quickly. Right on, Tannock. Don't try to get too close to him. He'll see if you can pick up his trail. Now look after Polk's wounds. Get him up, Scout. Get him up. Oh, he's a bad man, but it sure hurts to beat blazes. How'd he hear when he gets you, Polk? I heard firing from my place. I got aboard my horse there and cut across the creek to see what was going on and run right slap bang into the fella. Hold still. And better tell the sleeve of your shirt away. Go ahead. I can stand it. How'd you look? It's nothing serious. Just a flesh wound. You'll have nothing worse than a stiff shoulder for a few days. Good enough. Gosh, you could have been number four for that critter. Weren't the shot bothered me so much that was just lucky when he got in when he was heading through that brush over there. But before that, he fetched me a good one over the head. That's what knocked me out of the saddle. Well, we'll wash the wound out a bit and he'll be as good as new again. I almost stopped bleeding already. Wish I could be fixed up as easy. He didn't drill me, but dog gone, he sure left me as broke as a fella can be. But when Tonto returns, perhaps we'll find a way to get your money back again. On his return, however, Tonto's report was discouraging. Oh, Scott, oh, oh, Scott, how did you find something outlawed, pretty clever? Yes. Me not fine trail. Likely what he'd done was right down the middle of the creek to cover his tracks. Get right for miles that way if we wanted to and come up on the bank most anyways. We'll have another look for daylight. Think you can make it home all right now, Pope? Sure. I'm pretty tough. I'll break the lake nested. I'll give you a hand here, saddle. Oh, thanks. Well, adios, fellas. Adios, Pope. Get up there, come on, get up. Frank, you'd better get back to town and report this to the sheriff. You just bid, I will. Here's your money. And you can deliver a message for me. Yeah? Well, the sheriff, the masked outlaw has killed his last man. Come on, come on, get him up there. Get him up there. Get him up there. That's a fine thing. Tell me something like that to get him a curiosity up and then just right off. But gosh, ain't I glad I ain't met killer's boots. Get up, boy, get up there. 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 following morning, when the scene of the holdup could be examined by the light of day, the Lone Ranger and Tonto once more sought for the killer's trail. When they had completed their search, they made certain inquiries throughout the district. These were not finished until late in the day when the masked man turned Silver's head back toward camp. We found out all that we can, Tonto. Ah, in the first place, it's clear that whoever the killer is, he left no trail leading from the creek. We look all over, not find him. The second place, both Coke and Frank Mason, say that the masked killer rode an unusually powerful white horse. Not right. Well, if there's such a horse in the district, nobody we've spoken to has heard of it. Maybe him hiding. That isn't the explanation. What do you think? Everything we've learned fits in with the theory I formed last night. Huh? If I haven't made a mistake, the killer is just about reached the end of his trail. What do now? Return to camp and rest the horses. And when it's dark again, call on the sheriff. After the sheriff? Seth Duncan, Red Runs banker. The masked man followed the plan he had outlined to Tonto. Late that night, at an hour when he was safe from observation, he roused the sheriff and spoke with him briefly. The sheriff dressed, saddled, and accompanied the masked man to the home of Seth Duncan. They chose a roundabout way and there's Seth's place. This is close enough. Who's over there? Whoa, whoa, whoa. We leave the horses here and go the rest of the way on foot. We don't want to know unless Seth had collars tonight. That's the back door. Can they hear us from there? Sure. That old codger could hear a panther if it was cool enough to try sneaking up on him. He lives alone. We won't be awakening anyone else. No, he's alone. Watch out for them steps in front of you. That's his room overhead. No, not. He seems to be sleeping all right good. Try again. If I make too much noise, we'll arouse his neighbors. Yeah, maybe they'll think. Seth, we have been shot down here. Can't you see who it is? It's me, Pete Davis, the sheriff. Who's that wicked? Never you mind. Just come down here and open the door. Fine time tonight to be gallivanting around. We ain't gallivanting. And what time it is, don't make no difference. If you don't get a move on you, I'll be jailing you for obstructing the law. Now get into your slippers and hustle down here. Pete Davis, you ain't the law. They're a pesky nookie. I fetched him. Angry, eh? Him angry? Friend, the more old Seth glows, unless you got to worry. But when he starts smiling and purring, then look out. The three men talk for 15 minutes. Then the lone rangers started back to camp while the sheriff returned home. But the following day, some interesting news spread through the town. I heard it's the biggest shipment of cash ever sent from here. Seth must be local. Doug, if I'd take the chance with that mass killer, Roman Loose. If that stole, his bank will go bust. Hi, fellas! The stage is in. And they're getting ready to load the cash now. Come on and watch. Come on. Come on. Come on. Come on. Come on. Oh! The box there. I strap on the seat beside the guard. Grab a hold of one of that fucking circumstances with that outlaw, Loose. What are you going to do with that money stole? It ain't going to be stole. Ask the sheriff here. The fella gets this cash. He's going to have to be good. I'm sending every blame deputy I got with him. If the killer wins cash bad enough to tackle them, then he's welcome to try. Ready to go? Everything's all set. Get in the saddle, boys. And anybody tries to hold you up, shoot to kill. Them's orders. All right, start that stage rolling. On your way, fellas. Get going. Get up. Get up. There she goes. And she better get through. If you'd given me that kind of protection, Sheriff, I wouldn't have been robbed. After sending up guards along to hold off a gang. What's funny? What is it, Sheriff? Come inside the office. I can't get it out here. Come along, Sheriff. You ain't going to tell them all you're sure it shuts, why not? Close the door tight, will you? Yeah. Now look here, Sheriff. Take it easy. Frank lost 3,000 to the killer and hope got shot up. They sure ain't going to do any talking. They shouldn't. But I think what do you mean? It's a good one. It's a scheme that gets funnier the more I think of it. Oh, have a heart, Sheriff. Don't just stand there laughing to yourself. Can't you tell us what it's all about? You see the stage pull out? You see all them deputies right in the side of me. We was there. We seen them. And you seen that cash box was put on the stage? Sure. But what's it? Well, it was empty. Honest to guys, fellas, it didn't hold a dog-gone dollar. Oh, try talking sense much change. That's just what I'm doing. All the time I was outside there, I was near to bust and I wanted to laugh so hard. Are you going to tell us what this is about or eat you? Well, dear fellas, I've been a lawman for a good many years. And I ain't spent them years wearing a badge without learning something. I wouldn't say that. No, you wouldn't, Seth. But it's so. Now I ask you, if one of you, fellas, was that mass killer, what would you think when you seen that stage go out of here with them deputies? I don't give what you're driving at. Well, with all the talk there was in town and the fuss that was made over that cash box and the stage so close guarded, you'd figure Seth's cash was on the stage, wouldn't you? You mean it ain't? Told you that already. Well, then if Seth wasn't sending cash away, what was all the excitement for him? Oh, he sent the cash all right. You just now said that it didn't go by stage. Then how in thunder is it going? Wait a second. Now look out the window there and on down the road. What do you see? Only a couple of cow folks leading again to his rail. Nothing else? Well, there's all the wiggins leading that bro here. Sure, that's what I meant. What did he do? Get somebody to grub steak him again? He making another one of them fool prospecting trips to his? You'd think it to look at him, wouldn't you? Sure, but hey, you mean it. That's what you're beginning to guess. You talk on, Egypt. Oh, you're just joshing. You think so? But you're just the same as saying you're sending that cash by him. You couldn't be such a fool. You're thinking me a fool just goes to prove I'm right. Who's your right? The mass killer can't help but think that the stage is carrying the cash. Even if he's suspicion it wasn't, the last fella he'd guess to be packing it. You would be wiggins. Just so. You've gone clean out of your head. Yeah? Well, when word gets back, the cash arrived all safe and sound. Maybe you will agree the craziest stombraise are sometimes the slickest. Just as dust began to fall that evening. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Here we are, Taddu. We get here plenty early. You'd likely take that old fellow several hours more to get this far with that burrow of his. Ah. But I'd rather spend that time waiting here than risk being seen later by the man we're after. That's right. Perhaps we'd better get closer to the creek, Kimosabe. There's more cover over there. Ah. Do you see those willows? Ah, me see them. Silver and I'll take a position there. You ride further on. You'll find plenty of trees all along the bank. Kimosabe. Get him up, Scarlet. Old Wiggins had prospected so many years with such a uniform lack of success that he'd become a public character taken seriously by no one. As he headed down the trail, leading his reluctant and heavily laden burrow, those who passed him on the way gave him scarcely a second glance. One man, however, whetted tensely for the old prospector's approach. A crude mask concealing his features, he was seated upon a horse whose hide was a curious shade of white. Horse and man were drawn back from the trail in the shadow of a huge oak. As Old Wiggins drew near, the man spoke to his mountain a horse whispered. Last year, closer. I'm taking that burrow. Just keep reaching for the stars around. Oh, Blast him. Get out. Racing from the posse did not know that the Lone Ranger and Tonto were waiting for him near the banks of Wolf Creek. Get up. Get going, boys. Get going. Tonto! We installed the ceremony while this fellow was getting away with these killings. Ah. Come on, fella. Don't let him get me. Just bring me up. Give me a chance. Let me go. Please. Let me go. You don't get exactly the same chance you gave the men you killed. None at all. Look at this. Wait. Look over there at the creek first. Huh? Hey, it's Tonto. What's Tonto doing to that horse? Washing the clay from it. Huh? Clay? Every time this fellow here planned to hold up, he covered his horse with white clay. As soon as he finished, he rode into the creek, washed the clay off in a hurry and rode out again for the horse that wouldn't be recognized as the killers. Well, I'll be gone. So that's why all the holdups, except one, took place near the creek. And the only one that didn't was right next to a hose hanged for a water. Now look behind this man's mask. Kill him. There. Pull. Pull. Pull. Pull. But I thought, who got shot by the killer? It was a clever idea to take suspicion away from himself. He rode to the creek and washed off the horse, and gave himself a flesh wound that amounted to nothing. And pretended he'd been shot by the killer, making his escape. Well, can you beat this? His idea was clever. But nevertheless, it's what told me he was guilty. It couldn't. But it did. You had powder burns on your sleeve, poke. Although you said you were fired at from a distance. And there was no reason for your horse being soaked from head to hoofs if you'd just rode across the creek as you would claim. Why, you'd rather be enough from you, you pole cat. Take him along, fellas. Leave him alone for him. When we come to a handy tree, I think there's a way we can use him. No, no, no. Come on, Tom. No, no. I've just heard of a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated.