 A cloud of dust and a hearty high of silver, the Lone Ranger. With his faithful Indian companion, Toto, the mask 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. And 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, from the thundering hawkbeats of the Great Horse Silver, the Lone Ranger rides again. Come on, Silver, up the trail, I will fill the lamp! The oil lamp hanging over the old printer's press flickered gently as the door at the rear of the shop was opened, and a big man stepped into the poorly lighted room. Automatically, the old man turned away from his work, reaching for the twist of tobacco on his workbench as he did so. As he bit off a big comfortable chew and adjusted it in his cheek, Tom Jacobs looked up and prepared to greet his visitor. Howdy, mister. Good evening to you. What? What? Good evening, Mr. Jacobs. What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? Thanks. Thanks, mister. Well, what's wrong? Don't you feel well? Be all right in a minute. It's these blame specs I'm wearing. Oh? I looked up for a second when you'd come through the door, and I'd have swore you had a mask on your face. I have. I know you have, but these glasses always play tricks on me. Thought for a minute I was seeing things again. Then when you stepped into the light and I got a good look at you, I seen you really did have a mask on your face. I'm sorry if I frightened you all the time. You didn't fright me. Well, yeah, I guess you did, or I wouldn't have swallowed my long green. I can see you ain't never chewed long green. Let alone swallow a chunk of this stuff. Oh, that's right. Well, what's on your mind anyway? What's the mask for? You up to some crooked business? You might say I'm interested in some crooked business. I thought so. I came to see you because I think this particular piece of crooked business started here in your print shop. What? Now you see here, mister. I don't know who you might be, and I ain't sure I care. But if you think you can come into my place of business and start accusing me of being mixed up in something that ain't honest. Ooh, that's a fast old-timer. Talk about having himself to injury. Coming right into my own shop and scaring me so bad, I swallowed my chew in the back. Then before I have a chance to recover, you start him calling me a crook, and you wearing a mask. I said I was referring to some crooked business that started here in your shop. Here, do you recognize this map? Map? Here, let me see that. Sure, sure, I remember printing that work. In fact, I made the woodcut myself. I know. First time I ever made a woodcut myself. Usually send the drawings to St. Louis. A fellow down there does all that kind of work for me. I see. Taint the best job of woodcarving, I'll admit. Taint the worst, either. Now, just what did you mean, say, and I mixed up in crooked business here, huh? What do you mean by that remark? How many of these maps did you print? You remember? Of course I remember. 50 in the first order, 100 in the second order. Right now, I got another order from the same fellow for 300 of them maps. He's a mighty fine fellow. Always pays me cash. He likes my work, you see. Now, are you going to explain what you're getting at? The maps that you've printed are being used to swindle a good many people out of thousands of dollars. What? Well, I don't see how... Now, what did this mighty fine customer of yours say he was doing with the maps? Well, it seemed like he said something about he was a representative for some fur company. Sure, that was it. Said his company was furnishing the maps to trappers going into some new territory down south of here. It's a new territory, all right. But he's doing all the trapping himself. Telling those maps to prospectors just arriving from the east. Prospectors? You mean gold hunters? Right. Now, this man Mitchell... That's the fella, Frank Mitchell. He leads his victim to believe that there's only one such map in existence. And at a certain point on the map, there's a lost gold mine. Now, I've heard them stories about lost gold mines. Some of them are true. The mines your friend Mitchell talks about never existed. Well, I'll be... To think such a nice appearing fella would turn out to be a swindler. They might as well make it their business to be of nice appearance. I'll be doggone. Who'd ever... How does he work it? I've heard the story from several people he's cheated. His method of operation is usually to go to a strange town and strike up an acquaintance with some newly arrived prospector full of the gold fever. And after he's gained the prospector's confidence, he... You know, Bill, there's just two ways to strike gold out in this country. Yeah. You gotta carry a horseshoe for good luck and stumble onto a gold mine. That chance of doing that. Or else you know right where to go and look. And how many know just where to go and look for gold? Well, I imagine old Bailey'd know where to look if he was alive. Bailey? Mm-hmm. No prospector are grub-staked. Poked around the hills for five years or more before he struck it rich. Then he went blabbing about the thing for he even had it recorded. Got a knife in the back for his trouble. You mean... you mean somebody else got it away from him? Well, they got the map, but had never done them any good. Because Bailey was too smart to put the exact location of the place, huh? Oh, a map? Mm-hmm. But if you were his partner, didn't he tell you where the place was? Sure, sure, but you know how those old timers are when it comes to details. And never get anything straight. I spent a month or so trying to find it. I didn't have any luck. A month? Well, I'd be willing to spend ten years looking for a big strike if I knew what was close by. Oh, not me, brother. I don't have that kind of patience. But someday I might take another try at it, just for luck. But, uh, how'd you know where to look if the map was stolen? Oh, I located another map of the country that Bailey had been in. A map that was made up, uh, special for trappers, see? Oh. Now, there was enough landmarks so that I could come pretty close to figuring out just where Bailey had made his big strike. Trouble was, I never came just close enough. Here. I'll show you the map I was using. Mm-hmm. See, look, look. That looks like pretty rugged country. Yeah. You know, I wish I had the patience that you fellas have. I take me about three or four months' supplies and... Huh? I'm just thinking of something. You like prospect, mm-hmm? Sure, of course I do. And here I am with this lost gold mine and no chance to go look for it. And you... Bill, I'll make your proposition. Yeah? You put up the same amount of money that I got in this thing and I'll give you the map so as you can look for the mine. On one condition, of course. Well, what's that? We'll be partners. 50-50 if you find it. Well, that don't sound bad to me. In fact, it sounds like it might be a good thing for both of us. Uh, how much money do I have to put up? Well, I grub-staked old man Bailey $500 worth. Now, of course you understand, Bill. I ain't promising that you'll find it right off the bat. For that matter, you might never find it. Well, just let me get this straight. I give you $500 for Bailey's partnership. That's right. And I cash in on his half of the mine for finding it. We can put that in writing if you like. It suits me to a T. Now, let's have a look at that map. Sure. Now, there's just one thing I want to ask you, though, and that is whether you find it or not, don't make the same mistake that Bailey did. Now, don't go blabbing everybody about this thing here. Oh, don't worry. I know enough to keep my mouth shut. Now, here, here's $500 to seal the bargain. Now, let's get these papers made up. Be jiggered. If that Mitchell ain't the smoothest swindler I've ever heard tell of. Yes, he managed to have every angle pretty well covered. Of course, when he takes some sucker for $500, he can afford to forget all about that 50-50 agreement and so forth. I'd only do his victims go out of their way to keep quiet about their deals with him. But if he ever were suspected of swindling, the law couldn't prove a thing against him. Well, well, I'll be doggone. Imagine the money that slick jasper's raking in, would you? I was thinking more about the people who are being cheated of their savings. It's a dirty, crying shame. That's what it is. Why, what do you reckon can be done about it all? Well, as I said before, Mitchell has nothing to worry about from the law. I reckon you're right. No one can prove that he's taking money under false pretenses. Therefore, it seems that the best and only way of curing Mr. Mitchell's financial ambitions would be to give him a very large dose of his own medicine. I don't see how you could, though. A fella like that would be too smart to fall for some slick scheme. Chances are he knows all the slick schemes there is. He might. And again, there might be one he never heard of. Oh, uh, didn't you say you'd received another order from Mitchell for more maps? Oh, yes, sir. You bet. And perhaps you'll help me to catch up with him. Will I? When I think of how that jasper's buying those maps from me for two bits of peace and sell them to poor folks for $500? Well, you bet I'll help you catch him. Good. What address did he give you with his last order? Here. I got it up here on the spindle. Well, let's see, Mitch. Yeah, Mitchell, here it is. Sure. It says to send him 300 maps in care of the post office at Blue River Junction. Blue River? Well, he sure does move around. First order I sent him, he was down on the border. Second one, one way up north. Now he's heading for Blue River. And so am I. Much obliged for the help, old timer. Oh, don't have to thank me. Glad to help you. Only thing is, you, uh... you ain't said why you were so interested in this slicker's manipulations. Chiefly because he's stealing money and getting away with it. You'll be sending the maps to Mitchell at Blue River Junction? Yeah, might as well, since he's paid for them in advance. Besides, wouldn't do for him to get suspicious. He might up and fly the coop. Uh, you let me know how you make out, eh? I'll do that, Mr. Jacobs. Well, goodbye, mister. Oh, uh, say... Yeah? You never told me your name or explained that mask. Adios. Well, don't matter, I reckon. There was a couple things I didn't tell you, my friend. Well, better get busy. Yes, I've printed enough reward notices in my time. One more won't kill me. Send them to the sheriff at Blue River. They should keep the mask man from making trouble before Mitchell can finish his job. I'll send word to Mitchell to work fast. A few days later, at Sheriff Conley's office in Blue River... What's in the package, Sheriff? The reward notices, I reckon. It's from Sheriff Miles up north. Oh. Yeah, that's what they are, all right. Well, for the love of... Sam, look here. Say... That's a fancy reward, ain't it? $10,000 for information leading to the capture of... Let's see here, there's a long description. Yeah. Mask, tall, slender, talks educated, rides white horse called Silver, dog gone. What in thunder did he do to get a price like that in his head? I don't know, Sam, but that's a pile of money. Sheriff Miles must want the critter mighty bad. Is that a note from Sheriff Miles? Yeah, he says that he suspects that the mask driver is heading for Blue River. Yeah? Suggests that we post men all around the town and grab him when he comes in. Grab him? Or warn him so he won't come here at all. More likely do that. Deputy, there's something curious about this. That mask man that's described here has been in Blue River before. He's been my office a couple of times. I remember. He never impressed me as an outlaw. $10,000's a lot of cash. It is, and it seems to me that Sheriff Miles is a wall of hunk of it. If he thinks this man's coming here, why ain't Miles coming to get him? Well, there's something downright curious about this. We've got to get that mask man with a reward of $10,000, someone is going to get him. If we don't, someone else will. 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. Frank Mitchell, the confidence man whose field of operations included the whole Southwest territory, had been in the town of Blue River for two days. The man chuckled to himself and thawed a ladder in his pocket as he watched the Sheriff tack up a reward notice on the street. Oh, tin star. I bet he's plenty excited about the size of that reward. Howdy, Sheriff. Howdy, stranger. Hmm, reward notice, hmm? Holy smoke, that's a big price printed on there. What the fellow do? I can't say, stranger. I can't say. All I know is he's wanted by the law. You reckon you'll catch him? That's my job, ain't it? Catching crooks is what I get paid for, stranger. That's my job. As Frank Mitchell walked into the lobby of the Blue River Hotel, he heard a voice behind him. Oh, Mr. Mitchell, Frank, hey, Frank! What the... Well, look who's here. If it isn't my old partner, Bill, um... Bill... Bill Drew, you remember? I heard you was in Blue River. How are you, Bill? I'm sure glad to see you. I'm all right. I never did find that big strike, partner. I got kind of discurries and I quit looking. Oh, well, now I'm sorry to hear that. What are you doing around here anyway? I'm homesteading. Bought me a little chunk of land close to town. Aiming to get me a wife and settle down. You mean you give up prospecting? Well, I got discurries, just like I said. Of course I sure don't want you to feel I'm letting you down, partner. I remember our agreement. Oh, sure. But if your heart isn't in it, you're better off doing something else. So you're a farmer, huh? That's right. Here, I still got that map you give me. I reckon I better return it to you. Well, Chester, you say. Here's a partnership agreement we... Oh, there. Hey, what's that you're dropping? Well, nothing, nothing at all. There. And since I give up prospecting, we can tear up the agreement. Now, hold on. What was that you just picked up off the floor? Well, let me see that. Hey, hey, now you hold on. That's mine. You give me that back. Oh. So you give up prospecting. You just been farming, huh? Sure. You can ask anybody around here. In fact, I come into town today to bring some chickens into the hotel here. You can ask. And I suppose you just carry a nugget like this for a souvenir. Where'd you get it? Hey, Bill. Bill Groove. Hey, what the... Where'd you get them chickens you brought me? Huh? Hey, where'd you get them? Oh, where do you suppose I got them out to the farm, of course. What's the matter? Ain't they good enough for you? Good enough for me. Why, man, those chickens are good enough for anybody. Look. Look at this rooster I got from you. Yeah, I see. He was a mean rascal, believe me. It was a pleasure to lay his head on the chopping block. But look here, Bill. Look what I dug out of his claw when I was cleaning him. You know what that is? Well... Yeah, I think so. I know what that stuff is. If you don't. It's gold. That's what it is. Bill, you're rich, man. There must be gold laying all over that place of yours. Laying right on top of the ground. Gold. Gold laying in the gravel. And the chickens picking at it. Now, don't try to act so surprised, Bill Drew. And don't you forget we're partners. You hear? We ain't no such thing. I just got through tearing up the agreement I had with you. Don't you forget that I got a copy of that. And I ain't tearing it up. Well, you can do what you please with it. That farm is my own personal property, and you ain't got no say about it at all. You lying hypocrite. You know it all along that there was gold out there. Even got a nugget in your pocket which proves it. Well, that don't prove no such thing. Well, we'll see about that. I still got a written agreement which says you and me as partners, and you can't back out of it. I'm gonna see the judge. Well, go ahead. But you ain't gonna get my farm nor any part of it. It was late evening. In the Lone Rangers camp a few miles from town, the masked man watched as his friend Tonto drew near and reigned his paint horse to a hawk. Ho-ho-ho! Ho-ho-ho! Ho-ho-ho! Keep us company. Well, what's happened, Tonto? Sheriff got reward notices all over town for you. What? Let me see that. Here. Reward notice come from Sheriff Miles up north. It says give $10,000 for you to be captured. I see it does. I wonder. Oh. Look at this map, Tonto. But you show map to Tonto before. Look at it again closely and compare the printing on the map with that on the reward notice. Um, Tonto and Utsumi. They both came from the same printer's press. You... Then you mean that... Come on. I'm beginning to see things that I overlooked before. I'm beginning to think that a smart confidence man can be too smart for his own good. The Lone Ranger visited the sheriff of Blue River and outlined a plan to catch the confidence man, Frank Mitchell. The sheriff listened to the masked man tentatively and knotted with satisfaction as he realized the plan was a good one. One that would probably trap Mitchell and put him within reach of the law. In the meantime, Mitchell, the confidence man on his partner, Bill Drew, carried their argument to the office of the circuit judge, Toby Baxter. I tell you, Judge Drew is trying to swindle me. There's our agreement in writing. It makes us partners. It says we split 50-50 on any gold defined. And my farm ain't nowhere near the place on that map you sold me. The agreement don't stake where you gotta find the gold. I ain't found no gold. Oh, that's a lie. Where'd you get that nugget? It was given to me. Gold's so thick on your farm, the chickens were eating it with gravel scratch. Just a minute. You come here for an interpretation of this agreement. We did. What's it say, Judge? Well, according to this paper, Mitchell, you're entitled to half of any gold that Bill Drew finds. It doesn't matter where he finds it. Hey, you hear that, Drew? All right, then. You just proved that I found gold on my farm. You just proved that. That's all you gotta do. Are you trying to bluff me? No. I'll find that gold. I'll go to your place. No, you don't set foot on my property. What? I know my rights. You mean to say you won't let me investigate? You heard what I said. Judge, he can't deny finding gold and then keep me from making an investigation. He can't do that, can he? Well, it's Drew's property, Mitchell. You can't trespass. You can't set foot on that land if Drew don't want you to, unless you buy it from him. Then you won't do that. You ain't the man to take a chance like that. Put a price on that land. Well, you ain't got enough cash to buy. Put a price on it. Go ahead, I dare you to. All right, I'll put a price on it. A price that'll stop a two-bit foreflusher. The price is $10,000. I reckon that'll stop you. Drew, you're called. I'll take that land. Judge, you draw up the papers. Bill Drew is sold out. It was the next day when the southbound stage rolled into Blue River Junction. The old man dismounted from the Concorde coach and automatically reached for the twist of tobacco in his pocket. As he bit off a generous chew, Tom Jacobs studied the reward notice tacked on the porch of the hotel. Then a voice spoke at his elbow. You, Jacobs fella. Sure, it's my name. I was just studying this reward notice. What's on your mind? Well, me got message for you. For me? What is it? It's a message about Mitchell. They'll come. You ride with me. Yes, sure, engine. Ride with me. Howdy, Mitchell. Howdy. What? What's Tom Jacobs? What in the world brings you here? Well, what brings me here? Well, you sent for me, didn't you? Me? What are you talking about? Say, you, engine, didn't you say you had a message for me from Frank Mitchell? No, me not say that. Me say we have message for you about Mitchell. Well, but you said he was. Give me message. Him coming now. What? Who are those men? One of them wear mask on face. A mask? And other two wear badge on vest. Maybe you know them. Hello, hello, hello. Howdy, Mr. Jacobs. Hey, what kind of a mystery is there? Now, now, wait a minute. Did you send me a telegram yesterday? Or didn't you? Me? I'll tell you. I'll take the credit for that, Jacobs. Reckon, you know this fella. He's from your part of the country. What? Oh, sure. I know Sheriff Milo. Oh, I thought I knew you, Tom. But since I learned about these shenanigans, you and Mitchell here have been out, too. Now, listen here. The law ain't got a blame thing on neither one of us. Law didn't have nothing on you. Until you started impersonating the law, putting false reward notes. Now, hold on. We can prove you're in front of them, Jacobs. Just so we can prove you're in front of the maps and Mitchell's soul. Here come Judge Baxter and Bill Drew. What is this, a convention? What's going on around here? What are these fellas coming here for? Just in time, Judge. Oh, there, Mitchell. How do you like my farm? Oh, see here. Don't you come around here trying to cause any... Blame that Jacobs and Mitchell stepped beyond the law when they printed false hand bills. Can you prove they did it, Sheriff Milo? Yes. You bet I can, Judge. Well, you can't jail me for that. If you got cash, Jacobs, you might get all for the fine. Mitchell, you had the cash. Well, he gave it to me for this farm. We'll pay our fines, but you'll have to wait till I find the gold that's on this land. Mitchell, I told you there weren't no gold here. But you... He's right, Mitchell. You bought the land with your eyes wide open. Oh, that golden knucket that he dropped. I told you someone gave it to me. There's got to be gold here. Your chickens were eating it. Oh, that. Oh, well, well, you see, a friend told me the little gold dust would make the chickens mighty prime. I paid in cash for the dust that rooster ate. Oh, you can't do this. I tell you, you... But... Oh, I guess you can do it at that. You're done. So, so that's the way they work it, eh? Mitchell, why in blazes didn't you ask me about it? I used that same stunt myself one time. Must have been 10 years ago. Well, I sure need a big chore, the long green to bolster my spirits now. $10,000 for this rundown farm. Well, never mind, Mitchell. You can, uh, you can take cheer in the fact that I ain't keeping the cash. It's going back to them, you swindle with your no-account maps. Well, you never thought of this trick, Drew. Well, who says it did? That masked man over yonder worked it out. Well, gents, I guess you two are my prisoners. All right, Sheriff Miles, all right. Sheriff, me and Jacobs are licked. We'll go with you. But first, don't you think you should let us have one square meal of fried chicken? I'd like to get something off this dog-gone farm. Yeah, that's fair enough. How about you, Jacobs? Me? No. No, a chicken dinner comes too high. $10,000. I couldn't swallow chicken at $1,000 a bite. It'd stick in my throat where it's in my long green. The story you have just heard is a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporate.