 with a speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hotty-hio silver! The Lone Ranger! General Mills, makers of Cheerios, the oat cereal that's ready to eat, Betty Crocker mixes, and Wheaties, the breakfast of champions, present by special recording, The Lone Ranger! Hello, friends. This is The Lone Ranger. I'd like you to listen to something. All over the country, in every direction, How you, how you do it is a question, And here's one, perhaps, that these people have to say, Wheaties, how we eaties, And we do, do, do, do an OK, OK. You know, that's right. People in various parts of the country have different accents, perhaps, or dress a little differently, but the ones with plenty of drive, the go-getters, have one thing in common. They're careful about their diet. They see to it that they eat a good, honest breakfast every day, and a breakfast built around wheat couldn't be better for you. Wheat is real man food. So, bear in mind. If I were you, you're we, And you, we do, do, do an OK, OK. With his faithful Indian companion, Tonto, the daring and resourceful mass writer of the plains let 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, silly. Let's go, big fella. I am silly. Tom Fuller, owner of the Bar-F range, was at breakfast with his mother, a small but wiry woman, and with his 10-year-old son, Bobby, whose mother had died when he was born. Bobby, there's no reason to go up your food like that. Take your time. But, Dad, I have to hurry. I'm going to ride to the roundup with Fuzzy. He said I could. Fuzzy had no right to tell you he could do that. The cattle got out of hand. Anything might happen. Now, Bobby, you're staying here. Oh, gee, Dad. Fuzzy said I could go. You forget what Fuzzy said. That cowpock is too gabby for his own good. It's Tom. Now, Mother, no use for you to interfere. I say let Bobby go. He has to learn ranching in the earlier he starts, the better. Well... Gosh, Dad, I knew you'd change your mind. Better get along, Bobby. You weren't just waiting for ya. All right, Grandma. Goodbye, Dad. Now, hold on, Bobby. I didn't say... Wait, Tom! Listen, Mother, you heard me tell Bobby... Son, I think you're riled because Bobby's fond of Fuzzy and tags along with him so much. Mother, you know that's not so. It's just that I... Sit down and finish your breakfast, Tom. Yeah, might as well. Fuzzy left Bobby in a grove on a slope overlooking the valley. While he went to help in the roundup. For some time, Bobby stood watching the cowboys at work in the valley. His horse moved back through the grove, nibbling at the undergrowth. Suddenly, the horse plunged wildly and whinnied. Blacky, what's the matter? Come here, Blacky. The horse, frightened by a reptile, galloped back through the grove without heeding Bobby's call. The boy intent upon catching his horse followed. At first, he ran as fast as he could. Then, tiring, he continued to walk in the direction the horse had gone. I have to catch Blacky. I have to. But he's out of sight. I'll keep going till I find him. Bobby felt no fear and moved determinedly through the brush as he searched for the runaway. Finally, he stopped on the rim of a canyon. A small herd of cattle was being driven along the bottom of the canyon. And Bobby was relieved to see a man wearing a sombrero riding ahead of them. There's one of the cowhands. Those must be some of Dad's cattle. Maybe the men have seen Blacky. Bobby was about to call out when he caught sight of the riders behind the herd. Gosh, three Indians. Maybe they're still in some of Dad's cattle. I have to tell Fuzzy. Bobby turned to retrace his steps, but stopped with a gasp as he saw a painted and feathered Indian standing a short distance away with Tomahawk raised. Gosh. Boy, not make noise. Him go down past the canyon. Bobby stared a moment at the leering face of the savage. Then, without a sound, walked in the direction the Indian pointed and started down a steep path into the canyon with the Indian close behind. As they went down the path, the Indian signaled his companion. When the boy reached the bottom of the canyon, the others had left the herd and were waiting. The man wearing the sombrero was a Mexican. He spoke first. Where did the boy come from? Him watch from rim of canyon. It's not good. What are you doing here alone, young one? My horse ran away. I found him. I saw you with the cattle in the canyon and knew you must be stealing my father's lawnmower. So, you live at the bar F, no? Yes, my father owns it. He's going to be awful mad when he finds out you stole his cattle, mister. All right. You are brave for such a small one. You will come with us to the Indian village so your father will not know about the cattle. No. I have to go home. You are not going home, little amigo, not right now. I am Carlos. I'll take you on my horse to the village. Later in the hills, the lone ranger and tortoise stopped to mend a broken stirrup strap. As he mended the strap, the masked man was saying, This is the territory where there's been so much cattle rustling lately, tortoise. So far, the crooks have been able to get away with it. Ah, black eagle leave Indian reservation with Comanche renegades. Maybe them the crooks. It wouldn't surprise me in the least to find out black eagle that these braves are responsible for all the rustling. This territory is close to the border and it would be easy to get the cattle across. Am I right? Still, we must hear something. Ah, me hear hoax beats. Look, you see one horse without rider come along trail. Now scout will stop the horse, Totter. Ah, easy scout, easy fellow. Get a hoax scout. A few moments later, Totter returned leading Bobby's horse. Oh, scout. Oh, fellow. Easy scout, easy fellow. Did you see anyone on foot or lying on the trail? I mean, look. Not see anyone. The rider may have been thrown and hurt. We'll backtrack the horse's trail and try to find the owner. Here's the other horse, Totter. Easy scout, easy fellow. All right, let's go. Come on, soldier. Come scout. Meantime, Pussy and a few of the men who were ready to go back to the bunkhouse rode up the slope from the valley to meet Bobby. As they approached the grove, Pussy spoke uneasily. I thought Bobby'd be on the edge of the grove waiting. I couldn't see him anywhere. Well, we'll look around and try to find him. At least find his trail. Yeah. The long ranger and torto had reached the grove and stopped at the spot from which the horse Blackie had bolted. Oh, scout, oh, fellow. Look, Kimusabi, we see plenty of sign here. Yes, we'll be able to trail the boy from here. As they examined the ground, Pussy and the cowpokes suddenly came into view over a rise. Well, here comes trouble. Hey, buddy, I'm in the reach. Do as he says, fellow. Look, by the thunder, they have Bobby's horse. Where's the boy, missy? You don't talk and talk straight and fast. I'll plug you right now. We found this horse without a rider on the trail some distance from here. I think you're lying. You found it some distance from here. Why are you here? You spoke of a boy. So you know about him. That mask says that you're an outlaw, mister. What's more, if you backtrack the horse like you say, we'd have found the boy if he'd been thrown or something. Oh, he's lying. Pussy, make him tell the truth. I think we ought to plug both of them and follow that trail back till we find Bobby. The long ranger glanced quickly at Otto. He realized Pussy meant what he said and that the situation called for quick action. Pussy and the few men with him were closely grouped without taking his eyes from Pussy's face. The mask man signaled silver with a slight movement of his heels. The intelligence stallion suddenly sprang forward, whiting through the group forces, raring and kicking. While Pussy and this man fought to control their fighting forces, the mask man and Indian grew their weapons and the cowpokes found themselves staring at a double brace of guns. Drop your guns, all of you. No, I'll not drop my guns. Now drop the guns. He's too fast, man. Better drop them. I'll tell you again, we're not outlaws. We know nothing about the boy who rode that horse. We tried to be of help, but since you're so pigheaded, we'll leave. Let's go, Otto. Get down and get your guns, quick man. And we'll trail those two and gun them on sight. We'll continue our lone ranger adventure in just a moment. Mmm-hmm. You're going to love the big exciting news today. Now there are two brand new Betty Crocker cake mixes. Chocolate malt and peanut delight. I'll bet you can hardly wait to try them, and I wouldn't blame you. They're just so good. Today, let me tell you about the chocolate malt. It's a wonderful new way to enjoy an old flavor that's a favorite with so many of us. There's honest to goodness delicious malted milk right in the mix. And of course, there are all the other fine quality ingredients you choose yourself, like famous soft to silk cake flour and pure vegetable shortening. And because it is a Betty Crocker cake mix, mom knows it's the easiest way ever to bake a perfect cake. So next time mom goes shopping, be sure to remind her to get that brand new delicious treat. Betty Crocker's chocolate malt cake mix. You'll love it. Now to continue. While fuzzy and three men started to trail the mask man and Indian, the injured cow poke went back to the ranch house and reported to Tom Fuller, who immediately set out with more men to find the Lone Ranger and Toto. Later, the cow hand related the facts to Mrs. Fuller as she bandaged his wrist. I'm as worried about Bobby as Tom is, but there's no use running wild and trying to find the mask man and Indian and shoot him down. If the men do that, we won't know what did happen to Bobby. Yeah, that's right, ma'am. Yeah, that'll soon be all right. Now I'm going to ride that grove you told me about and see if I can pick up Bobby's trail. All Tom and the others seem to think about is getting that mask man and Indian. Ma'am, it's dangerous for a woman like you to go out there. Anyway, what would you know about trailing? I came west as a girl and I've lived my life here. You men, folks, don't realize what we women of the west can do, Jim. We're used to hardship and trouble. Now you go to the bunkhouse and rest. I'll saddle old Betsy, get my bonnet and shawl, and do what I can to find my grandson, Bobby. Meanwhile, when the Lone Ranger and Toto were certain they had lost their pursuers, they turned their horses back toward the grove. Tom Fuller and the rest of his ranch hands had already gone there and picked up the trail of Fuzzy and his men. As the mask man and Indian approached the grove from a new direction, Toto asked, Why don't we go back to Grove? The cowboy said a boy was riding the horse we found. I hoped to pick up his trail in the grove and try to find the youngster. Ah, that good. Ooh, someone's in the grove. Ah, it's woman Kimasabi that looked at ground, riding slow. She sees us, yet she doesn't seem to be frightened. Let's stop. Wait. We'll approach slowly. She made your gun easy, Silverman. Easy, Silverman. Ah, small woman. Have gray hair. Not look like a triused gun. Good afternoon. Good afternoon. Oh, Toto. We've come to help. We'll alarm you. I'm not afraid. Mrs. Fuller calmly stared at the Lone Ranger and Toto for a moment. Then she smiled and introduced herself, saying she was convinced they were not outlaws and she'd be grateful for their help. She bravely insisted that she accompany the mask man and Indian while they trailed her grandson. The boy's footprints led them to the rim of the canyon. From there, they followed Bobby's trail down the steep path. In the canyon, they stopped and Toto pointed out signs which indicated Bobby had been put onto a horse. He also reported, Small herd of cattle go through canyon. Indians drive them. How can you tell that? You see, mark the Indian ponies. They're not wear shoes. They must be some of Black Eagle's brains, Toto. Bobby may have seen them stealing his father's cattle. So they took the boy with them. What will they do to Bobby? Don't worry, Mrs. Fuller. I feel sure we'll find Bobby unharmed. You can help us now by going back to find your son and his ranch hands. Have them follow the trail left by the herd. We'll go on ahead. All right, Mr. I'll go find Tom. Good. We'll need their help. Tell him to hurry. And don't worry, Mrs. Fuller. Goodbye. Get up. Get up. He's a fine woman, Toto. Ah, plenty brave. All right, let's go. Easy. Easy, Toto. Come on, Toto. Get him up the cow. Black Eagle and a band of 12 renegade Comanches had put up wigwams in a secluded hollow far back in the hills. The stolen cattle grazed just beyond the wigwams, held there to be driven across the border in the morning. Black Eagle felt secure. He was certain that anyone hunting the boy would follow the trail of his horse, which had gone in a different direction. As an extra precaution, Carlos and the Braves with him had driven the cattle in a shallow stream for some distance before taking them to the village. The wigwams were in a circle, and in one of them Bobby lay with his hands and feet tied. Bobby tried to be brave, but as dusk began to fall, he felt frightened and lonely. Dad will find me. I know he will. He has to find me. He's just asked her. Tato knew the tricks of Indians, so he and the Lone Ranger had been able to follow the cattle in spite of Carlos' attempt to throw off pursuit. The mask man and the Indian finally located the village and stopped in the shadows nearby. They saw some of the Braves gathered near a campfire in some sort of powwow, while a single brave at each end of the hollow acted as guards. The Lone Ranger counted 12. Finally, he outlined a plan. Tato, there's six wigwams in a circle. No one seems to be guarding them. I'll go to three. You investigate the other three. Creep up behind each wigwam, make a small hole with your knife so you can see inside. But be careful. The shadows are just deep enough to help us. If you see the boy, cut the back of the wigwam and bring him out. All right, let's go. A short time later in the wigwam, Bobby lay trying to hold back the sobs. I want to go home. I want my dad. Quiet, Bobby. Who are you? Quiet, Bobby. We leave for the opening I made in the back of the wigwam. Here, I'll untie you. Turn this way. That's well over. This is not pretty hard. Just a second now. Easy. There. Golly, you wear a mask. Never mind that. I'll take you back home. Take my... Back out front. Your braids have kept a response. An Indian from out of the tribe. He was speaking behind a wigwam. They've caught Tato. What's happened? They've caught my Indian friend who came to help. Now, Bobby, listen closely. Go through that opening I made. Go through the brush to the woods. Get behind the big cottonwood there and wait. All right. The Lone Ranger waited and watched Bobby until he reached the tree on scene. Then the mask man turned and peered through the front opening. He saw Tato surrounded by the Comanches and unholstered his guns for instant action. The Chief was speaking. Him comes by on Comanches. Him not from our tribe. The Lone Ranger saw two braves spring forward. Each grasped one of Tato's arms holding it in a vise-like grip. Tato's profile was visible from a wigwam. As the Chief grew a knife, held it high, then stepped in front of the mask man's friend. The Lone Ranger knew the time had come to act. And offering to great fear. As the knife started downward, the Lone Ranger fired. The Lone Ranger, ready to die fighting to save his friend, Tato, sprang forward, both guns blazing. Then the welcome sound was heard. Tom Fuller, leading about 30 men, galloped into the village with guns barking. Within a short time, the Comanches were subdued and those who were not wounded surrendered. Tom spoke to the mask man as his men took charge of the prisoners. Mr, we saw you heading toward that yellow band of savages as we rode into the village. You sure have nerve. Thanks, my friend was in danger. Oh, Fuller! Oh, oh! Well, Tom, here's Bobby. He was waiting right where the mask man said he was. Hi, Dad. Come here, son. I'm sure glad you're safe. The mask man saved me. They were going to take me away with them. They were holding to you, mister. Oh, here comes my mother. She was waiting back in the woods. Who, who now? Let me help you down, mother. Thank you, son. Oh, Bobby. Bobby, are you all right? Yes, Grandma. Your mother and your son are both very brave, Mr. Fuller. Mister, my mother told us all about you and the Indian Tato. I'm sorry it would cause you so much trouble. Thanks a million for finding Bobby and stolen cattle. That's all right. We'll leave now. We'll notify the troopers to come after those renegades. So guard them well. I sure will. Let's go, Tato. Adios, everybody. Goodbye. Gosh, Dad. I like him. So do I, Bobby. He's a mighty fine man. I reckon you have better judgment of folks than we men have, mother. I sure wonder who that mask man is. So do I. Well, I found out from the Indian why we were trailing, Bobby. When he told me who the mask man is, I knew he was the one man who'd find Bobby, if anyone could. You see, he's the Lone Ranger. The feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated is produced by Kendall Campbell Muir Incorporated. The part of the Lone Ranger is played by Brace Beamer, your announcer, Fred Floyd.