speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty hi-yo silver, the Lone Ranger. Discovered in the western United States, thousands of prospectors headed for the new territory. Along with the honest miners came gamblers, confidence men, and criminals. Gun law ruled the boom towns, and it was not until the masked rider of the plains started his great fight for justice that the local sheriffs made any real attempt to preserve law and order. Return with us now those thrilling days when the West was young, from out of the past come the thundering hookbeats of the great horse Silver. The Lone Ranger rides again. Come on, Silver! We're heading for Kirkwood! Silver's waiting on the trail ahead! Oh, Silver! The Gold Nugget was the largest cafe in Kirkwood. Although it was still afternoon at the time our story opened, the place was crowded, with a greater part of the crowd around the table where five men sat playing poker. Spark Webber, the dealer, looked impatiently at Carl Vaughn, a heavyset man, owner of a small gold claim not far from the town. Well, Carl, we're waiting on you. You're drawing cards or not? Give me one. There you are. Your bed roof, you open. A hundred. Tippy? I'm calling and raising a hundred. How about you, George? I'll stay. You staying, Carl? You bet I'm staying. But not for no penny ante this time. I knew my luck was going to change and it done that same. I'm calling the two hundred and the board and raising it a thousand. What are you talking about? Carl, you must be loco. What's that critter hold? If you aim to find out, pay for it. My thunder, I'll call you. You ain't bluffing me out. There. I'm throwing down. This kind of a game is too doggone rich for my blood. I ain't scared. Carl, I got a notion I got you and Tippy both skinned. And there's my thousand to back my opinion. Well, that's all the betting. Now, let's see what you got that you're so doggone proud of, Carl. Poor Queen. Thought I was bluffing, did you? Well, I reckon that should be. Hold on. Huh? You don't take in them chips till you see what we got. All right, George. You beat? Ah, what good's a full house again, four of a kind? There you are, Tippy. Ah, what do you got to say about me taking the chips? Plenty. Suppose you look at mine. I'll be darned. What? You got four kings. Which same beats four queens all to pieces. Blasted tin horns. Hey, what? Stephen! Jesus! Have you gone crazy, Carl? I'll show you how crazy I am. Roof, you and me have been sitting here getting cheated all day. We've been sitting in a game with a blasted tin horn gambler that's been fixing the cards. We ain't had no more chance of winning than if we've been playing blindfolded. And I'm going to fix it. Just one second. You're using mighty strong language, Carl. The kind of language that calls for proof. I'm a professional gambler, but I play a square game. Have you got different notions? I never said it was you, Spark. All right. Then you mean me or George here? Which is it? And I never said it was you, Tippi. Or George neither. Then who in blazes do you mean? Name the polecat, Carl, and we'll give him what he's got coming. You bet we will. This is something I'm going to take care of my own way. Carl, you've either said too much or too little. Either way, you've got some explaining to do. Sure, I'll explain. Spark, you and Tippi and George, they're all make your living by gambling. It wasn't till this last door that I got the suspicion in things. But after that, I kept my eyes open. And I'll say this much. One of you three, I ain't saying which one, has been playing crooked. I reckon the fellow I mean Savvy's all right without my name in him. Doggone it, Carl. Why won't you name him? Because I'm for doing things legal. I'm telling the sheriff what happened here and he can make the arrest. You fellows would just try to start a lynching party. But the sheriff ain't in town. He'll be back by night. Blasters, you've got to name the man you mean. You can't leave it like this. You're leaving all three of us under suspicion. I reckon you can stand it till the sheriff takes action. Then just remember one thing, Carl. Yeah? When you go to the sheriff, be blamed sure you've got proof of what you're saying. Just calling one of us a crook won't get you nowhere. Less than it's to Boothill. I got the proof. Come on, Roof. Oh, excuse me, Injun. Not all right. You not bump, Tonto. Where you going, Carl? Out to the cabin where my claim is. I got some work to do there and I'll come back here tonight. Thanks, Carl. Better reckon I'll stay in town. Yeah, suit yourself. And you other fellas. Yeah? If the one of you that's guilty don't aim to be jailed, I'd suggest making tracks out of this part of the country before the sheriff takes action. Good afternoon. Tonto, leaving town shortly after Carl Vaughn's departure, returned to the well-hidden camp he shared with a lone ranger and told his friend of the quarrel in town. The masked man took the news more seriously than Tonto had expected him. Tonto, are you sure the names of those three gamblers who were Tippi, George, and Spark? Not right. Tippi Phelps, Spark, Weber, and George Marshall. Tonto, those are three of the most dangerous men I know. Each one is a gambler, a crooked gambler. Each one has several killings to his credit. Ah. Carl Vaughn. Isn't he the man who has that place beyond the cliff trail? Why, you ask? I've been wondering if Vaughn realizes how foolish he was. He told those men he was going back to his cabin. Everyone there in the cafe knew that Vaughn was returning alone. Ah. Moreover, one of those three gamblers knows that if Vaughn ever gets back to town and places his evidence before the sheriff, he'll be jailed or hung. Isn't that right? And I wouldn't put it beyond any one of them to attempt to keep Vaughn from talking. Now that we're riding. What do? We're going to put Carl Vaughn on his guard against any attempt on his life. Here, Silver. Good idea. Here, Scout. Silver and Scout are both heavy horses. It'll be bad business taking them by way of the cliff trail. It's the only way we can get to Vaughn's place. Ah. Steady, old fellow. Well, we'll try it, Kimo Sabe. Come. Get him up, Scout. Come on, Silver. As the masked man and Tonto approached Carl Vaughn's cabin, the gathering dusk made the old cliff trail doubly dangerous. At the far end of the trail, however, the ledge broadened and it was here they drew rain. Oh, Silver. Oh, God. There's his cabin, but there's no light inside. They've started back for town already. Wait. Isn't that his horse over there and that lean-to? That hid, all right. He must be home. Come on. He may be sleeping. I don't like waking him up. He should be warned. Here we are. I can't hear you. Vaughn, are you in there? Vaughn, it's friends. The door's unlocked. Well, we'll have a look in here first. It's plenty dark. Wait until I light a match. We'll see where his bunk is. There, Peller, on the floor. Quick. That's all lamp on that table you left, Kemosabe. Light it and bring it here. How to do it? That match didn't last long enough to get a good look, but I think he's been shot. Will he get here too late? Yes, he's dead, Kemosabe. Can you get the lamp lit? Light lamp. Good. Just set it there. Ah. Shot through the heart. You think gambler fella do this? Unless Vaughn had other enemies. We can find out about that in town. Now what do? The most important thing at present is to see if the killer left any clues behind him. Ah, that's plenty hard. Trail not show track? No, and this shelf the cabin's built on won't show tracks either. It's stone, and the wind sweeping down from the north have kept it free of topsoil. A dozen horsemen could ride up here without leaving prints. Ah. Maybe something inside the cabin, though. Tonto, this other table. Do you see this? What you'll find? Look here. Him, him drink coffee. Coffee pot is still warm. That isn't what I meant, though. Vaughn didn't use two cups just for himself. That's right. He's had a visitor here. A man who probably first made an attempt to be friendly and then murdered him. Ah. We can't be sure of it, but it's probable. This is what could have happened, Kimo Sabe. One of those three gamblers knew he was guilty, knew that Vaughn was accusing him, although he mentioned no name. Maybe is that right? May not be right, but it's reasonable. Vaughn couldn't have had many visitors here, not when they had to come by way of the cliff trail. The murderer, however, would have an urgent reason for making the trip. He had to come here or clear out of the country. Ah. Listen, Tonto, we're returning to town. I'm reporting this murder to the sheriff. Ah. I think the killer can be trapped if the sheriff will listen to me and I'll see that he does. And what's your plan? I'll tell you what we're riding. First, however, we want to leave everything as we found it. Put the lamp back on the table where it was. See that anything else we may have disturbed is replaced. Ah. Hurry, Kimo Sabe. If this murder isn't solved tonight, it may never be solved. When everything had been replaced in Vaughn's cabin to the Lone Ranger's satisfaction, he and Tonto remounted and headed their great horses toward Kirkwood. Scarcely more than a half hour's ride. Avoiding the light thrown up on the main street by the numerous cafes, he approached the sheriff's office from the rear. Then, leaving Tonto on guard outside, the Lone Ranger entered without knocking. Sheriff Temple? Who are you? What are you doing here? I'm here to report a murder. A what? The murder of Carl Vaughn. No. I just came from his cabin, Sheriff. Look here. You can't just walk in here. Don't go for your gun. Hiya! You're covered. You'll listen to me whether you want to or not. Gosh, stranger, that was the fastest draw I've seen in all my born days. Don't force me to use this gun. Well, even if you have got the drop on me, I'm still a law here. What were you doing over to Carl's place? I rode there as soon as I learned that his life might be in danger. I got the news too late, however. He'd been killed before I arrived. Who done it? That's what we're going to find out. Uh-huh. And how do I know you didn't kill him? If he is killed, how do I know you ain't up to some slick game of your own? You'll have to take my word for that. The word of a masked man. I'm not an outlaw, Sheriff. What's more, I had no possible motive for killing Vaughn and then reporting his death. If I were known to you, I might do it to mislead you. But you don't know me. I did nothing to gain about that kind of a trick. Maybe so. Has anyone told you of the quarrel in the Gold Nucket Cafe? I heard about it. And you know that Vaughn planned to bring you evidence proving that either Spark Webber, George Marshall, or Tippy Phelps was running a crooked game. That's what I was told. Now tell me some things I want to know. Who else might have wanted Vaughn killed? Who else? Shucks, Carl was one of the best-like fellas around here. I'd say he didn't have an enemy within a thousand miles. Another thing. Did he get many visitors at his cabin? You just bet he didn't. Not having to ride the cliff trail to get there. And, Cheryl, that means one of those three gamblers Vaughn played cards with is his murderer. What you mean is you figure they didn't want him to tell me what he knows. One of them didn't. Well... Where have those men kept themselves since Vaughn left town? Have you seen them? No, they made themselves scarce. This ain't the peacefulest town in the state, but just the same folks deal sudden around here with crooks. They've been circulating around some, but keeping on the move. In other words, it isn't likely that any one of them has been in one place long enough to prove an alibi for the time when Vaughn was shot. Most likely not. In that case, all three are equally under suspicion. Uh-huh. Sheriff, will you help me find out which one of them is guilty? Stranger, I like your style. I don't know why you're wearing that mask, but you don't sound like no outlaw to me. You bet I'll help you. I'll have my deputies round them fellas up right now, and we'll work them over till they'll be doggone glad to talk. No. Oh, but you... I know those men, Sheriff. They're gamblers, professional gamblers. They face too many real dangers to be influenced by physical fear. I don't know how else to go about it. I believe I do, however. Listen to me, Sheriff. I have a plan to trap the man we want. 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 Lone Ranger, having convinced the sheriff that he really desired to bring Carl Vaughn's killer to justice, outlined a plan to which the lawman enthusiastically agreed. At the end of their talk, the Lone Ranger rejoined Tonto, while the sheriff quietly made his way down Kirkwood's main street. Following the masked man's instructions, he told no one of Vaughn's death. Instead, he stopped first in one cafe and then another, until finally he found Tippie Phelps in the cafe known as the Royal Flush. Howdy, Phelps. Huh? Oh, good evening, sheriff. Step over this way, will you, Tippie? I'd like to have a couple of words with you. Now look here, sheriff. I ain't done nothing wrong. Who said you had? I thought maybe that's... Quick thinking and do like I told you. Sure, sure, sheriff. Over here where folks can't hear what we're talking about. Sheriff, if it's about that argument and the gold nugget, there wasn't nothing to it. Honest, there wasn't. Carl was just mad about losing his cash and started to fuss. He thought there was something crooked because his luck was bad. What I've got to say concerns, Carl, but it ain't got nothing at all to do with that poker game. No? I just now heard something. Something right interesting. What was that? I'll tell you. But if you open your mouth about it, I'll nail your hide to the jailhouse. I won't say a word. Honest, I won't. I've been tipped off that Carl's been killed. Killed? Right. But who done it? How'd you find out? When did it happen? I don't know who done it nor when it happened. As to finding out, it's a fact that I don't even know who the fella is that gave me a word about it. Then how can you be sure that... The fella was masked. Masked? Uh-huh. He'd come in my office and sort of hinted that if I rode out to Carl's, I might find out he wasn't living no more. Then he let out. Well, I'll be doggone. Sheriff, I'll bet that fella had a blame-good reason for wearing a mask, and I'll bet he had just as good a reason for lighting out after he's seen you. Yeah? What would you figure that reason would be? Maybe he killed Carl. Maybe he's tricking you somehow. Tippi, I'll tell you. That's just how I had it figured myself. You did? I don't know what his scheme could be, but I'm free to say it wouldn't surprise me none if it was a mighty slick one. Then why don't you go after him and bring him back? Jail the polecat and make him talk. That's what I aim to do. Then come on. I'll help you find him. Nope. I can handle that part by myself. Well, then... Hold on. Yeah? Do you think you could do me a favor? Well, I'd be glad what you want done. Well, I'm taking after the mask, fella. You go out to Carl's cabin. Huh? Me go out there and ride that trail at night? Gosh, that'd be mighty risky. Not if you're careful. What do you want me to go there for? I figured if you was willing to make the trip after what happened this afternoon, why, that'd go a long ways toward proving it wasn't you, Carl, meant when he talked about one of you fellas cheating. If it was you, of course, then I don't reckon you'd be anxious to have the killer jailed. You'd probably figure he'd done you a favor. I'll go, Sheriff. Sure, I'll go. I was just wondering as long. Thanks, Tippy. Now, here's what you're to do. These are orders, and if you don't follow them, I'll make you wish you had. Just say what you want and I'll do it. Go out there and come back again without telling nobody about the killing. Nobody, understand that? I won't. I'll give you my word. Then if you find Carl was killed, don't touch nothing. Just look things over good so you can tell me about it. I'll want to have a look for myself later on without nothing having been moved around. That's heavy, Sheriff. Then if you do make tracks, get there as fast as you can and come back pronto. I'll be waiting for you at my office. Right. On your way, then. Get. Tippy Phelps left the cafe at once and rode out of town in the direction of Vaughn's isolated cabin. He was gone less than an hour and a half, and when he returned, the sheriff was waiting for him in his office. Back already, Tippy? Sheriff, you heard right. Carl is dead. Well, I can't say as I'm surprised. I couldn't see where that mask fella would say he was if he wasn't. He wouldn't have nothing to gain by it. Where is that mask hombre? Did you get him? I seen him. Then where is he? Suppose you let me ask the question. What did you find out there? I just told you. Uh-huh. But what I mean is, where was Carl? What did the cabin look like? Had there been a fight or what? Them's the things I want to know. Well, there weren't no fight. It looked to me like Carl never had no notion what was going to happen until it hit him. He was laying right square in the center of the floor. The bullet caught him in the chest and all it took was the one shot to finish him. I see. Notice anything else? Nothing except two tin cups and a coffee pot sitting on the table like he'd had company. But as far as there being any real clues, there just wasn't any. Well, thanks for your trouble, Tippi. Oh, shucks. That's all right. Now I reckon you can walk down the hall there. Hmm? Back where the cells are. What do you mean? Why should I go back there? Because I'm locking you up. Locking me up? You heard me. Get going. Hey, what is this? Are you accusing me of killing Carl? Is that what you're doing? Come on. Move along. Say, if you can't do this to me, I never killed nobody. Haven't said you did, have I? Yeah. Down this way. You can't tell me without telling me why. I'll take that chance. Now hold up. I reckon Miss Cell will do all right. Wait till I unlock the door. And if you're loco enough to try and make a break for it, why, just go ahead. I never did feel like there ought to be a law against shooting gamblers. Blast it, I don't savvy this. Don't try to. Get inside. You'll be sorry for this, Sheriff. I won't worry about it. Yeah. Guess that'll hold you for a spell. See you later, Tippi. Hey, where are you going? To look up the next one of you fellas. I'm sending him out to Carl's place, too. And don't bother to waste your breath on questions because I ain't answering any. Let me out of here. Don't come to let me out, I tell you. I ain't killed nobody. You can't put me in jail for nothing. Let me out. There's George Marshall right across the street there. George! Hi there, George! Hold on a second. I want to talk to you. Hey there! Wait! I want to talk to you. The Sheriff, using the same pretext that had sent Tippi Phelps to Carl Vaughn's cabin, sent George Marshall, the second gambler, on the same errand. When Marshall returned to town, the Sheriff greeted him with the same questions that he had put to Phelps. So that's just the way it was, George? Carl laying there in the middle of the floor and a bullet in his chest? That's right, Sheriff. Then there'd be nothing else to ask you. You might just as well go on back and join a friend of yours in there. Go back where? To the cells? Ain't nothing else back there that I know of. What in the world you wanted to... The gamblers are the stubbornest fellas. I've never seen such fellas to argue. You aim to lock me up? George, a lawman ain't supposed to play favorites. I locked Tippi up, so I figure I'd better do the same for you. Now keep your lip buttoned and remember, I'm the law. With Tippi and George in jail, the sheriff once more left his office. Spark Webber proved more difficult to find than his companions. But at last, he too was located and given his instructions. This time, however, when Spark had answered the sheriff's questions upon returning, he was not put into a cell. Instead, the sheriff walked toward the outer door and... Is there anything more you want me for, sheriff? You just said where you are, Spark. All right, stranger, everything's ready. Done, Potter. You can bring the others out of their cell, sheriff. Sure, just close the door, will you? Sheriff, Sheriff, that must be the mess putter you was telling me about. That's him, all right, Spark. But you'll have to excuse me for a couple of minutes. I got a surprise for you, too. Say, what's going on here? The sheriff told me he was looking for you on a charge of murder and now you walk right in here as though there weren't anything the matter. Yes? You are the fellow who told the sheriff Carl was killed, aren't you? I am. And by thunder, the sheriff must have lied to me. He sure don't act like he's suspicions you've done the shooting. You'll understand more about this in a moment, Spark. I don't like this. There's something blamefully... Don't move. There we are. Keep an eye on him, Potter. Me watch him. Now, look here. What right have you or that redskin got to keep... Quiet. But I'm telling you, you... Here come two men. I believe you know. Chippy and George Marshall. What in blazes are you fellas doing here? That's what I aim to find out right now. Sheriff, this calls for some explanations. You reckon it does at that? But as long as the whole thing was the mask fella's ID, why, maybe he ought to make them. Your idea, mister? One moment. What we did tonight was done to trap the murderer of Carl Vaughn. I never killed him. Neither did I. If you're trying to say I'd real, Carl, you're off your head. I never shot him and I don't know who did. Now try and prove any different. This afternoon at the Gold Nugget, Carl said that one of you three men had been cheating at cards. Well, what of it? He also said that he was coming back to town tonight and when he returned he'd see that the sheriff jailed the man he referred to. In the meantime, he refused to name anyone. Because he couldn't. He was playing a square game. He was just a hard loser. If one of you hadn't been cheating, Carl would never have been killed. There would have been no necessity for his death. Unless one of you feared what he might prove if he were allowed to reach town alive. Ah, you don't know what you're talking about. As a matter of fact, knowing your reputations, I don't doubt that all three of you were cheating during the game at one time or another. We ain't worrying about what you've seen. Get on with it. I will. When Tana told me about your quarrel in the cafe, I rode to Carl's cabinet once hoping to warn him to be on guard. He was killed before I could reach him. How do we know you didn't kill him? Because we already know the guilty man. You're doggone right we do. The killer was clever. He left nothing behind him to show which one of you he was. Not a single clue. If he hadn't betrayed himself later, he could have gone free. Betrayed himself? We gave him a chance to do that when he was sent to the cabin. The cliff trail is dangerous even in daylight. At night, it's doubly so. Well? The sheriff asked each one of you to go to the cabin and observe what you saw there, disturbing nothing. Two of you, the two who were innocent, had to make the trip over the cliff trail in order to make an accurate report. Say, I'm beginning to savvy this. I thought you would about now. The only man who didn't have to make the trip in order to give a report was Carl's murderer. The murderer knew what had happened without going to the cabin. He could pretend to leave town for the cabin and hide out for the length of time it would have taken him to get there and back. After that, all he had to do was to tell the sheriff he'd been there. He thought the sheriff would take his word for it and he would be in the clear. And that means... That means when each one of you started out, the sheriff, Tonto, and I trailed behind you. We followed long enough to know whether you attempted the cliff trail or not. I went to the cabin. That proves I never drilled Carl. And it proves I didn't either. But it proves that Spark did. Spark's the killer. He's the man who didn't think it necessary to go all the way. And because he wanted to dodge the danger of that trail, he'll hang. No, I won't. Stand clear. I'll shoot the man to try and stop me. I thought I had that pulled cat's guns. He pulled a derringer from his sleeve. So you thought you had me. You thought you tricked me and was going to see me hung. You will hang. Not for a few more years I won't. But stranger... Yes? For tricking me the way you done, you're paying. You're going just the same way Carl done. Now blast your... My arm! My arm's busted! The masked Humber got in the first shot even when Spock had the drop on him. Bring that fella here, Tonto. Me bring it up. My arm! He isn't hurt. I only shot your gun from your hands. But I wouldn't have given a hoot if the masked fella had blown you to piece of it. My arm, I tell you... Quit that noise! And save it until you see the rope waiting for you when you really have something to holler about. How about us? How about holding me and Tippi in jail without no reason? The masked man told me what to do with your kind and I'm starting on you. Why, what do you mean? It's you crooked gamblers that have made Kirkwood the kind of town it is. Well, that's being changed. I'm running a whole bunch of you out. And if you don't go willing, then me and the masked man will see you go just the same. The story you have just heard is a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated.
