 The horse with the speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty hyo silver, the Lone Ranger. With his faithful Indian companion, Tuttle, the daring and resourceful Masked 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. A lot of the past come the thundering hoofbeats of the Great Horse Silver. The Lone Ranger rides again! The Lone Ranger and his faithful Indian companion, Tuttle, had been in the saddle for many hours on their way to the town of Boestring. They were about five miles from their destination when they saw a small ranch house. The house and outbuildings were in need of repair, but the windows of the house were clean and there were drawn shades inside the windows. The masked man and the Indian grew rain and dismounted at a water trough. It stood at one side of the house. This is a chance to give our horses a drink and plenty thirsty. I wonder if anyone lives here. There's no sign of life. Well, the horses drink, I'll look around. A man inside the house gripped a repeating rifle and watch beneath a drawn window shade. He saw the masked man examine a hen house and pig pen, then moved to a small garden patch outside the ground. The man hurried out the front door of the house and continued watching the newcomers around the corner of the building. Tuttle, there have been many people here within the past couple of hours. You find footprints in the garden? Yes, a lot of them. And they must have been made recently because the trampled down crops are still green and fresh. Everything about the place shows signs of recent use. Yet I found no hands in the chicken house, no pigs in the pig pen, no horses in the corral. Me wonder if anyone in the house. I'll wrap on the door, we owe thanks for the water. Stand still, you're covered. Man up front, near corner. Hands up, both of you. All right, do as he says, Tom. That shot was just a warning to let you know I mean business. Make a pass for your guns now, bang rifle slugs through your hides. What do you want of us? Mister, the minute I saw you wearing that mask, I figure you were the answer to my problem. I don't know what your problem is, but I'll be glad to discuss it when my hands are loaded. No, you don't, keep them up. Turn around. Face the other way while I take your guns. You too, engine. A rifle's an awkward weapon to cover two minutes close range. I said turn around. Now listen to me. You have lots to learn. I'm trying to teach you. Well, of all... You can't possibly shoot both of us. You might shoot me, but Tom would draw and shoot you before you could lever another cartridge into position. I told you to turn around. And I haven't obeyed. Well, are you going to shoot? For an instant, the man was speechless. He held his rifle pointed at the Lone Ranger's chest while his eyes met those behind the mask. It was the chance that Toto wanted. The Indian moved fast. Me, get him out. He brought one hand down on top of the rifle barrel. The bullet kicked up dirt at the Lone Ranger's toe. Me, take the rifle. You, you, there. Toto leaped back in possession of the rifle. The rancher started forward, but found himself gripped by the mask. Hold it. I'll take it easy. Continue our talk without further threats of sudden death. You rat-engine! Is it your name on the gatepost? What if it is? Then you're a Jeb Grundy. Yes, I'm Jeb Grundy. And if you came to rob me, you're in for a disappointment. I'm cleaned out. I've taken everything I own, including the furniture from the house. Who cleaned you out? Half the people of Boestring. It was all done legal. It was an auction sale. Oh, so that's it. They left my rifle, my army bugle, and some clothes. Well, your engine pal has a rifle. Go inside and take the rest. Make it a clean sweep. Jeb, we're not here to rob you. What did you mean when you said you thought I was the answer to your problem? That mask. I figure there's a reward posted for you. That's why you tried to capture me? Naturally. Well, Jeb, you wouldn't have collected a dime. I'm not a thief. You needn't lie to me, mister. I don't care. Have you ever heard of a man called the Lone Ranger? The Lone Ranger? You? Then you have heard of me. Colonel Miles talked about you. So did Colonel Gates. I was butler for them both. I know them well. You must be Tonto. That's right. Oh, gosh, I'm... Sorry I mistook you for an outlaw. That's all right, Jeb. It's a common mistake. I thought I might collect a reward enough to buy back few more things. Return his rifle, Tonto. Uh-huh. Yeah. Oh, thanks. Were your things sold to satisfy a death? Yes. See, when I came out of the army, I wanted to farm a piece of land. The bank owned this property. They'd taken it on a mortgage. They rented it to me, and I... I brought furniture from the east. My folks had left me. Oh, but you don't want to hear my story. Please go on. Well, I needed cash to buy workhorses and a few hogs and chickens. Some seed and tools to plant a wheat crop. I borrowed the cash from the bank and signed a note. I figured it'd pay back the money when I harvested and sold my wheat. It was a bad year for wheat. Oh, the worst year anyone around here ever saw. There was no rain. The crop wasn't worth cutting. Oh, well, that's the story. The bank wanted the money, so we held an auction. Did you raise enough to pay the debt? Yes, but I had to sell everything to do it. Even the furniture I brought here and... and even solitaire. Solitaire? My army horse. We were together all through my years in the army. Why, he knew my bugle calls as well as any soldier. You brought him out of the army with you? Yes. His leg went bad, and he was going to pay the debt. He went bad, and he was going to be shot. I persuaded the colonel to spare his life until I was mustered out. I brought him here then, took care of his leg, treated him with packs and rubbed it and worked it careful till it was just as good as new. And then... Then today he was sold. I sure hope he doesn't know that he was bought for only $10. Is that all? Yeah. A youngster bid for him. I reckon everyone wanted to see the youngster get him. So no one bid up the price. Do you know who bought him? A kid from Bow String. His name's Billy Winters. Billy. An 11-year-old boy with a turned-up nose and faculet. Oh, yeah. You know him? No jab, but I knew his father. He died a year ago. A preacher told me about the boy and his mother. He said they were living in Bow String. Todd and I were on our way there to see how they were doing. Well, I'll say this. Billy did all right at the auction. He bought Solitaire for only $10. And that included the saddle. Billy Winters was the proudest boy west of the Mississippi when he drew rain in the yard behind a small house in Bow String. Walter, fellas. Stay there, boys. He dismounted, then patted the powerful neck of the big black horse. Oh, golly Solitaire, you're the finest horse in the world. Billy! Mom! Mom, come here! Please hurry! Where did that horse come from? Mommy's mine. I bought him. Oh, no. It's true, Mom. You... You bought this horse? Well, yes. I went to the auction in Mr. Barker's wagon. You said it'd be all right to go. Yes, dear, but I never... You said it'd be all right to spend my money. It was your money, Billy. You saved every penny of it, but... Well, you only had $15. I bought the horse for $10, Mom, and I have $5 left to pay his entry fee. Entry fee? Sure. I'm going to enter Solitaire in the Brig Frontier Day Race. I'll do it this afternoon. Oh, Billy. Oh, he's strong, Mom. He's one of the strongest horses in the whole Army. Mr. Grundy said so. He's the man who sold him. He was a bugler in the Army, and Solitaire was his horse. Oh, golly, isn't he a beauty? And brave, too. The scar is where he's wounded by a bullet. Son, where are you going to keep your horse? And how can you afford to feed him? Mr. Barker said I might keep him in the livery stable, and I'll work there to pay for his food. Oh, golly, Mom, wouldn't it be fine if Solitaire won the race? Billy, the strongest and fastest horses in the state will be running in that race. Oh, sure they will. That's why the price is so big. Wouldn't it be great if Solitaire won that $500? Yes, Billy. Now you'd better come into supper. Mom, would $500 be enough to open your restaurant? Oh, Sonny, would it? Yes. Well, you hear that, Solitaire? If we win the Frontier Day race, we'll give the price to Mom. Then she'll have the restaurant she wanted. Come on, Billy. Now, if you eat a big supper, I'll give you some sugar for your horse. The Lone Ranger and Tonto made camp in the woods near the town of Boestring. The Indians spent the evening in town asking a few questions and listening to snatches of conversation when he returned to the camp at midnight. He found the last man waiting for a report on the scouting expedition. Me hear plenty talk about wife, son, Jim Winter. You did. Ah, boy and a war horse in race. The Frontier Day race. That's right. He'll be matched against the best horses within 100 miles of town. Ah, that's why men laugh. Them say Solitaire, good name for horse. Him run all alone far behind all others. That would break Billy's heart. Ah, but him tell everyone Solitaire win prize. And him give prize to Mother to open restaurant. Oh, then she couldn't have been left very much when her husband died. Well, her make bread, cakes, sell to people in town. I see. Tonto, did you see the horse? No, no, me not see him. From what Jeb Grundy said, the horse has strength and courage. Well, you not think horse have chance to win race? Little chance of it I suppose. But I would like to see the horse. Well, horse and livery stable. Maybe we go there in morning. I wonder if Solitaire is as good as Jeb claims. The lone ranger had no need to ride into town to see the retired war horse. Because Billy was in the saddle at daybreak. He rode out of town and across a level stretch of plain near the edge of a woods. The masked man and Tonto heard the passing hoof beats in their camp and the boys' voice shouting. Tonto, did you hear this? Ah, boy called Solitaire. Come on. The two men hurried through the trees to the edge of the woods. They saw the boy guiding the big horse back and forth. The big horse responded to the boy's commands, but not too willingly. It walked and ran first in one direction then another. The masked man watched in silence for some time. Then turned to Tonto. Tonto, that horse is strong. Ah, but him not very fast. He's holding back, but notice the leg action in the muscle play and see the way he holds his head. That's a proud horse, Tonto. Maybe him good war horse, but not race horse. The frontier day race is a long one. Courage, stamina and strength will count for more than great speed. You think Solitaire got chance to win, race? I don't know about that, but I'm sure of one thing. If Solitaire puts his heart into that race, he'll not finish last. Boy, pretty small. He'll undoubtedly be the lightest rider that will be in his favor. And between now and frontier day, he might be taught how to ride in a race. Kimusabi, you maybe teach him plenty. If at the same time, Jeb could help with the horse, I... Tonto, we'll do it. We'll try to help Solitaire and Billy win that race. And we'll ask Jeb Grunny to do the same. Ride to his ranch. He's still there asking to come back with you. Ah, me go. While you're gone, I'll talk to Billy. The curtain 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. All to continue. When Tonto grew rain at the house where Jeb Grunny lived, he saw the former soldier coming down the porch steps with a blanket roll slung over his shoulder. I'm back here. A lone ranger sent me. Him say, maybe you help horse win frontier day race. You mean to say Silver's been entered in that race? No, not Silver. Oh. Billy Winters enters Solitaire in race. Solitaire? I wonder if he could do it. He's plenty strong. He's got lots of heart, but tell me how to reach your camp. I'll be there as soon as a double time march can bring me. Right, double on scout. Kino, let's start traveling. If Solitaire is going to run a race, he has a lot to learn. In the meantime, the lone ranger had mounted Silver and joined Billy Winters on the level plane. The boy was at first a little frightened, but the mask man soon won his confidence. His admiration of Solitaire won Billy's heart. He's a fine horse, Billy. I've been watching you ride him. Well, you know my name. Yes, you see, I knew your father. You did? Yes. In fact, I once gave him a Silver bullet as a souvenir. That Silver bullet? Oh, golly. He always carried it. And he told me a lot about the man who gave it to him. About you. Jiminy, you're the lone ranger. That's right. Then this must be Silver. Yes. I hear the Solitaire is going to run a race. Yes, sir. And I'm going to ride him. Have you ever ridden in a race? No, but I'll stay in the saddle, and I know that Solitaire will do his best to win. There are ways that you can help him. There are? Yes, indeed. You see, if he starts too fast, he'll be tired before the finish of the race. You must know just when to let him go. Well, I don't know anything about that. I'd like to teach you. Would you? Would you really? I'm camped in the woods nearby. Now, if you were to bring Solitaire here every morning, we might work together. You really think my horse has a chance to win? Billy, let's think of nothing else. Before Billy left the open plane, he promised to keep secret from everyone but his mother, the fact that the masked man was to help him learn to ride in a race. The following morning, there was another surprise for Billy and for Solitaire as well. Jeb Grundy was on hand when the boy and the horse appeared on the plane at sunrise. Whoa, there, fella. Stay there, boy. Hi there, Billy. Mr. Grundy. And old Solitaire. Hello, you old war horse. Looks like you're glad to see me again, eh? Come on, I'll take it easy. Take it easy, old fire eater. We've been apart only a couple of days. Is he going to take Solitaire away from me? Why, no, Billy. Solitaire is your horse. Sergeant Grundy is here only to help us prepare for the race. Climb aboard that saddle, Billy. Let's see how you and Solitaire work together. Solitaire seemed eager to show his former owner that he was as good as ever. He showed more speed and fire than on the previous day. He behaved like a colt, cutting and turning sharply and dashing at breakneck speed for short distances. Come on, Sergeant! Jeb, you think he'll be bothered by the leg that was injured? Oh, that shouldn't bother him. But you never can tell. We'll plan exercises to build up strength. A systematic training began for the boy as well as the horse. Early every morning, Billy rode from town to the plane where his friends were waiting. There were carefully planned exercises to harden muscles and build stamina. There were hard runs paced by sculptor Silver over a distance that was increased from time to time as the boy and horse grew stronger. After every workout, there was a careful cooling off and a rubdown with special attention to the horse. People began crowding boasterings several days before Frontier Day. They came from far and near to join in the fun and take part in the games and contests. Hotels were jammed. Many people slept on the ground at the edge of town. The cafes did a land-off as business. Me? I'm in the Bronx Boston Contest. I aim to try bulldogging. Well, I don't hang out to throw a bull. I'd rather throw balls at the stuffed cats. Ha! Maybe I'll win a Sophie Pillar. There was talk of nothing, but a lot of fun. You feel it? There was talk of nothing but Frontier Day and most of the talk dealt with the biggest event of all, the Frontier Day race. I hear the Bar-K has a horse that'll run the legs off any. I saw the Bar-K pretty. Doggone lot of horse. Jackson figures to repeat last year's win with his big rake. Jackson has no chance. I'm looking for that horse and me and Tuck to make a good round. A big day arrived. It was a day full of activity punctuated by salutes from the cannon that stood before the courthouse as a war relic. The contest ran off with no more than the usual confusion and argument until it was time for the final event, the big race. Billy and all the other contestants and their horses were gathered in front of the courthouse. Billy's mother and Tonto were with the boy. Now, Billy, be careful. Don't fall. Oh, Billy, stay and saddle him all right. Uh, Jones? The course is forked by flanks. You all know what it is. Straight ahead out of town across the plains to the turning point, where there'll be a judge's station. Remember, Lone Ranger and Jeff, watch from woods. Good luck, son. Line up, sir. Get in line, Billy. Remember all? The horses steadied. The crowd was silent. Riders and horses were tense. And then he and Solitaire were jostled hard on both sides. The boy fought to hold his seat. The man had said, Put the start during the scramble for position. Hang on. Solitaire will handle the situation. Solitaire was used to milling horses in battle. Horses that bumped him were bumped right back. After the start, the race was settled to a steady gate. Billy's instructions had been drummed into his brain during the hard weeks of training. He heard that voice as if the masked man stood right at his shoulder. Let the other horses set the pace. Try to stay in third or fourth position for the first half. We're in town and thundering along the grassy plain close to the woods where the lone ranger at camped. This is where we trace, Solitaire. You know this round. Come on, boy. Third or fourth position, Billy. The boy was riding ninth. Come on, Solitaire. Two men watched from the woods. The lone ranger and Jeb Grundy. Ninth position. He's doing his best, Jeb. Pace is faster than I figured. Mighty fine horses in that race. I wish we could help. Wind whipped Billy's hair and dust bit into his face. He leaned forward, his mouth close to Solitaire's ear, and spoke words of encouragement. We'll do it, old boy. Those others aren't as strong as you. At the turning point, Billy was in the same position with nine fine horses ahead. Try to stay in third or fourth position until you reach the three-quarter mark. The three-quarter mark was just ahead and Billy still ran ninth. At the three-quarter mark, call him the horse for all he has. That's for you to take the lead. You're already doing your best, Solitaire, but you must do better. Great-hearted horse was willing. He tried to give more, but he had little reserve and speed. He passed two horses. There were seven still ahead. The horses were thundering past the woods, and then a big white stallion burst into view with two men riding. It was silver. The lone ranger was in the saddle, and behind the saddle rode a soldier. It was Jeb in his old uniform, and he had his bugle. Solitaire heard the bugle sounding charge. It was the old familiar call to action. It was his beloved master back in battle. If Solitaire could have spoken, he would have said, hang on, Billy, we're going. There was a surge of speed from muscles that had found new strength. Solitaire passed two horses, then a third. Come on, Solitaire, come on. The war horse dashed past another. It was the Bar-K favorite. He was closing on the leaders, and the town was just ahead. A red, a gray, and battle-scarred Solitaire were neck and neck, battling for the lead at the edge of town. Buildings flashed fast. Billy could see the finish line. His friends, his mother. Then Solitaire heard the bugle once more. A final spurt carried him to the front. Fine riding, Billy. The greatest race I ever... Billy lay in bed. He was tired, but his cup of happiness was full. Beyond the open door of his bedroom, his mother and Jeb Grundy had been talking for some time. The boy had been listening to the conversation. Finally, he heard his mother say, But, Mr. Grundy, Billy really feels that you're entitled to half of the prize for that race. Oh, no, ma'am, I wouldn't touch a cent of that money. Billy wants you to use it to open a restaurant. And so do I. Why do you want me to open a restaurant? Well, uh... Well, you'll need a handyman around a place like that. And when it comes to waiting on table or building shelves or cooking, I'm downright handy. What's more, I'd work for just enough to eat in a place to sleep. I'd even loan you my bugle to hang outside. So you could name it the Bugle Call Cafe. Jeb Grundy, are you asking for a job? Yes, I'm. A job that'll keep me close to Solitaire and young Billy. He's a great boy. Bugle Call Cafe? Well, that's a splendid name. And there'll be a lot of carpet to work. Let me show you my plan. You may have some suggestion. Billy smiled in the darkness. He knew the future was secure. Once more, he seemed to hear the voice of a masked man close to his ear. When fine people like you and your mother and Jeb Grundy were together, Billy, everything is sure to be all right. Thanks, Lone Ranger. This is a feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated, created by George W. Trendle, produced by Trendle's Cambell Mure Incorporated and directed by Charles D. Livingston. Tonight's drama was written by Fran Stryker. The part of the Lone Ranger is played by Brace Beamer.