with the speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty, hi-yo, silver, the Lone Ranger. Chasing was the first great industry in the western United States, but the ranchers faced many difficulties. Chief among these was the threat of rustling by organized bands of outlaws. They terrorized the range country, and the local sheriffs were powerless against them until the masked rider of the plane started his fight for justice. It was only through his strength and courage that peace and security were finally brought to the frontier. Return with us now to those thrilling days when the West was young. From out of the past come the thundering hoofbeats of the great horse, Silver. The Lone Ranger rides again. Come on, Silver! We're heading for Wyoming! The sun is waiting on the trail ahead! Their axes gleamed in the sun, and the perspiration streamed down their faces and backs. Two broad-shouldered young men, huge logs they had brought from the nearby forest, into lanes which could be fitted into the half-completed cabin beside which they worked. Both appeared to be in their twenties, although there was perhaps five years' difference in age between them. They looked to be brothers, and were. At last, by unspoken agreement, they stopped working. The elder brother grinned, then. Bud, this here is what I call just plain hard labor. Well, Chuck's Frick, you're just soft. I reckon I am at that. How are you feeling? I've got a few aches and pains. Never'd figure six months in a calaboose that soften us so, would you? Forget that. Huh? What's the matter, Bud? I say something wrong? Just lay off that calaboose stuff. Ain't nobody around to hear. It wouldn't make any difference if there was. Say, what is this? You ain't ashamed of being in jail, are you? Well, ain't you? Nope. Not as long as I know I never done what they claimed I did. Well, I can't look at it that way. Hey, now, kid, get yourself straightened out. Sakes alive. You don't figure being called rustlers makes us rustlers, do you? No, but... It's a matter of that. They weren't so doggone sure of themselves. If they had been, it wouldn't have been any six months in jail for us, you can bet. It'd have been the root. I don't know. It's just the idea that... Sure, I guess I savvy. But, Bud, look at it this way. They call us rustlers and jailers. All right. We served our terms. We know we ain't guilty, but just the same, that's all behind us. We're here in Wyoming where nobody knows us from Adam. A couple more days and we'll have the cabin finished. A couple weeks and we'll get ourselves some cows and register us a brand. And a couple years and we'll be a pair of ranches with cash to rattle in our jeans. Yeah. We're starting all over again, get it? Nothing for us to be down in the mouth about. We ought to be yowling to let off steam. Sure, Fred. Things are going to be fine. You're tooting, they are. Wait, I'll tell you what. Huh? You know what's really wrong with you? What? We've been working too hard. Ain't circulated around none to get acquainted. Sure, that's what's the matter. Now, how does this sound? Finish the cabin and we go to town, eh? We bend our elbows at the cafe of might and make us some friends. Maybe we'll start getting acquainted before then. Huh? Look there. Somebody coming. Yeah, there he's waving. Well, doggone. First neighbor to call on us. Hi there, friend. Howdy. Light and sad. Don't mind if we do. Oh, whatever. Oh. Well, you're just telling my brother here you're the first fellow from around here to come calling. Mighty glad to see you. Thanks. I heard a couple of young fellows have bought this piece. You think it'll raise cattle? Sure thing. Fine. Plenty of room for all of us. I didn't stop by just to pass the time of day, though. Figured maybe you and your brother might be interested in coming to the meeting tonight. Think you would? Huh? What meeting? Sorry. I forgot you wouldn't have heard of it. A rancher's meeting. Right important business. Of course, you ain't got no cattle yet, but you will have. That makes it all right for you to be there, I guess. And what's up? Been in trouble. Rustlers. Oh. Jailed their leader a week ago, but now this skunk struck back. We got to decide what to do. Uh, struck back? Ain't anything I care to talk about much, friend, but if you don't learn it from me, then you'll learn it from somebody else. I got my boy. Say, I'm sorry to hear that. You, you mean killed him? Nope. But they will if we don't turn poke loose. Least ways, that's what they threatened. I reckon they meant it all right. So now you see why the meeting. Gosh, there ain't much we can say, but... Well, if there's anything we can do, you just call on us. We'll be there with bells on. Thanks, friend. Jim's just about the age of your brother there. Don't need to tell you what he means to him. But where they got him? In their hideout, wherever that is. You don't know? Just that it's some place in them badlands to the north, which don't help much. No, I reckon it wouldn't. That covers a heap of territory. Well, look here. You don't mean to hold out again, do you? Yeah, I mean, after all, if all you gotta do to get your boy back is let this fella poke go, I... That's something I can't talk over with you. Now, don't get me wrong. I hate that I don't trust you. It's just that that's what the meeting is called to decide. Oh, sure. Well, that reminds me. Ain't introduced myself. My handle's Tom Patrick. You got the first place below you after you get beyond the pass. We've seen it. I'm glad to know you. I'm Fred Vance, and this is Bud. Did you say Vance? Sure. Why? From Montana? Uh-huh. But how'd you guess... Slow down, poor catch? Hold on, mister. You're making war talk. What in blazes got into you? You're a pair of dirty rustlers. What the... You're in with the rest of that rotten gang. And I was injured enough to stand here and lick me in. Let you take me in. Why, you crazy... Bud, let me do the talking. Now then, mister. Suppose you explain yourself. You mean to deny you served time for wrestling? We served time, yeah. We never rustled nobody's beef, though. And what I'm craving to know is how you knew about it. I'll tell you. I'm waiting. We know your gang ain't been here long. We wrote to every sheriff we can locate for the name of fellas that... ...want let out of jail in the past six months that have been sent there for wrestling. We got the names of a couple dozen. And you was among them. Now listen, Patrick. We can explain. I can't prove you're in with the others, but... Wait. But I know you are, and that's enough. So let me warn you. Clear out. Clear out and make it pronto, or stop lit. Well, wait. Won't you listen? That's my last word. Get up, boy. Get up. Well, fool, look. Wouldn't you know something like this had happened? And just when we figured we were starting again clean. So we're supposed to clear out. Looks like we'll have to. Yeah, well, the blazer's with them. We're honest, and we're here to stay. They want us to move. They'll have to make us. The meeting of the ranchers took place that night in Tom Patrick's home. His parlor was crowded with booted and spurred men whose grim expressions told the serious nature of their purpose and... Friends, we all know what we're here for. Before we get down to business, I think you'd better know about something else that's come up. What is it, Tom? Today I called on them two young fellas you've likely heard about that have been building a cabin up above me here. Is that right? Mike, I've been meaning to ride up that way myself. Any of you men heard the names yet? No. Well, I can tell you. It's Vance. They're the same two brothers the Montana sheriff wrote us about. Now hold on. I give them their marching orders. In with a gang or not, we don't want fellas with their kind of records sitting in this district. I reckon understanding the way things are, they savvy that. I don't figure they'll waste much time making tracks. And if they don't go... They will, peaceable or otherwise. Well, that's by the way. We can attend to them fellas any time. But our other business can't wait. Look here, Tom. Yeah? I've talked to quite a few of the men before I come here. I've told them what I think's the right thing to do, and they all agree. To what? To trade and poke for Jim. If we go at the sheriff, he can't turn us down. He'll do what we say. You ought to let Polk go, knowing he's the brains of the outfit. We're not thinking of him, Tom. We're thinking of your boy's life. With Polk loose, you'll be losing cows as fast as you was before. We'll take the chance. No, you won't. I got my own idea how this should be handled. I don't see anything in it that'd keep you from agreeing. What have you got in mind? Well, first, Polk stays in jail. I'll wait. Then we pick a half dozen fellas from among us to go into the badlands to find the hideout of them crooks. Tom, I don't like it. I didn't figure you would. If anything should go wrong, it'll mean Jim will be killed. Then we'll see to it nothing does go wrong. Well, I think... No, fellas, there ain't no use arguing. I know you're trying to save me. I know you'd let Polk and a dozen others like him go loose for Jim's sake if I was to ask you. Why, of course not. But I ain't asking you that I won't. I've named the plan. That's the way it'll have to be. Now let's talk this over and decide who's to go. Less than an hour later that same night, the masked man who had been listening outside the Patrick Ranch house expressed his opinion of Tom Patrick's plan to Tonto. Tonto, Tom Patrick means well, but he's making a mistake. I doubt that he's convinced those rustlers mattered when they said his son would die if Polk wasn't released. You tell him about hideout? No. I was going to, but I heard something that changed my mind. What's that? Fred Vance and his brother want nothing but a chance to settle here and make an honest living. Those ranchers have discovered their identity. They're determined to drive them from the district. Not bad. Under the circumstances, perhaps they're not to blame. Nevertheless, those young fellows deserve a chance to make good. I know nothing about their guilt or innocence back in Montana beyond the fact the evidence against them was slim. Not right. I do know that whatever punishment they may have deserved, they received it when they spent that time in jail. And they're not connected with the gang operating here. We both know that. I meant to tell those ranchers that we'd already located the rustlers' hideout. What'd we do? I'm going to keep that knowledge to ourselves for a while. Jim Patrick won't suffer by it. We may be able to help Fred and Bud Vance. Oh, do that. I'll tell you which we ride. Cold scouts. Here's scouts. Here's over. Where we ride. Fred and his brother made a camp near the cabin they're building. We're calling on them tonight. Come on. Get them up, scouts. Come on. Fred and Bud Vance unable to sleep sat beside the campfire they had built staring gloomily into its flames. Fred. Uh-huh. What are you thinking about? Same thing you are, Reagan. Ranchers knowing about us? Sure. What else? Still figure on staying here and fighting it out? Don't you want to? I'm sure I hate to run. That's the way I feel. But just the same. I don't know what just the two of us can do again the whole county. Blast it all, Fred. I'll bet this is the way it's always going to be no matter where we go. Sooner or later somebody's going to ride by that recognizes us. Then we've got to pull stakes again. Which is just why I ain't for leaving now. Huh? What would we gain by the bit if it's going to happen again any place else we go? Sharks, we've got to stand and fight for our rights sometime. What's the matter with doing it here and now? I suppose you're right. Of course I am. We keep on building the cabin? You're doggone right. With our guns handy all the time. Uh-huh. And if them ranchers want to give a try of chasing us away, we'll show them how a couple of brothers by the name of Vance can put up a scrap. Come on, cheer up, kid. Least ways, it ain't likely to get dull for us around here. There's one way of looking at it. The best way you can believe it. Hey, hear that? Horses. Come on, tell me! What in here? Get back here in the brush and out of the light. Get your gun ready. What do you figure it is? Enemies. How do you know that? Because we ain't got no friends around here. Watch for them now. They'll show up first atop that rise. Uh-huh. Fire over their heads. Yeah. And if they don't pull up, then let them have it. The curtain falls on the first act of our Lone Ranger drama. Before the next exciting scenes, please permit us to pause for just a few moments. Now to continue our story. The Lone Ranger and Tonto, unaware that Fred and Bud had mistaken them for enemies, urged their mouths toward the gleam of the brothers' campfire. Come on, Silver. Carry on, scout. What the? Empire. Right up there. Push down those guns. Quick, Tonto. Out of those saddles. Oh, oh, they're in that brush. Let me see him. It's on the mask fell in the red skin after his butt. Let him have it, right? Down, Tonto. My gravy. Good work. One move from you, Jets, and we'll finish the job. Just watch it. Now. Oh. Grab them with me guns. Don't move. No, not hurt. Just what's the idea of opening fire on us? We know who sent you and we ain't running, Savvy. You thought we were sent by the Rangers? There you were, weren't you? No. We came here hoping to help you and not fight you. Expect us to swallow that? It happens to be true. And if you've got the sense to listen, we'll prove it. The vast man spoke rapidly. And when he had finished, Fred stepped forward and held out his hand. Strangy, I reckon when you shouted the feller and apology don't mean much. But so be it, you're willing to take mine. You've got it. We hold no grudges. What Fred says goes for me too. I've told you what I want you to do. It's dangerous and I can't guarantee you'll be accepted by the Rangers afterwards. Nevertheless, I think it's worth trying. What do you say? We'll do it. Right. Good. If all goes as it should, you won't regret it. It was the following night that the six men selected by the Rangers rode toward the Badlands. Tom Patrick, the father of the man they hoped to find and rescue was their leader and... Then I figure this is the best place to have him here. He'll give us the most cover. If they're keeping watch which they likely are any place else we'd likely be seated. Shucks, Tom, you're the boss. We ain't gonna question anything you decide. Good enough. Now when we're in the Badlands we'll keep riding till we reach them buttes. We know there's no place for a hideout this side of them. It's no use of our wasting time looking. But from the buttes on we'll have to go careful and make sure we don't overlook nothing. We stay on horseback? Yeah. Then what? Do we separate or keep bunched? We ain't separating. If we could signal each other it'd be fine. We could cover that much more territory. But any signal one of us made that the rest could see could be seen by them rustlers just as well. Yeah, that's so. What's that up ahead? Sitting rock. When we're past it we're in the Badlands for fair. I wonder how long this gonna take us. There's no saying. Maybe a day maybe a week maybe a month. That's why we're packing so much grub. Ain't no way to tell them. I got a notion about these fellas. Yes, Tom? I don't figure they're in the Badlands so deep. If they was they'd waste too much time getting back and forth. My notion is they're close to the edge but in a spot easy to overlook. Wouldn't be surprised if you was right. That'd explain why they could make raids on our beef so often. Uh-huh. Well, this is Sentinel Rock. Keep your horses edge into your left. That's all malpies straight ahead. Tom, maybe if we... Don't follow it up. What is that? Go rain and reach. Don't take your time about it either. Whoa, there. Whoa, whoa. Masked man and a redskin. Yeah, them two vansies too. What's the meaning of this? It means you're not entering the Badlands. What? Out of the saddle all of you. You can't get away... Come on, Tom. Nothing we can do. The skunk's got us covered. You there. Talking to me? I was just getting to the point where I was more than half convinced you and your brother was on the square. Then you pull a stud like this. What about it? What about it? This proves you're one of the gang. Think so? Well, maybe later on, Patrick, you'll find out different. Really? That's enough talk. Bud. Yeah? Think you're going to be able to guard these fellows without letting them get away? Don't you worry about me, mister. They'll still be here when you get back, all right. What do you think you're going to do with this? Tom, I'm going to tell you something, although you most likely won't believe me. Yeah? We're preventing your making the search for the hideout of the rustlers only because you know you'd be sure to make a mistake. You have no idea where to look. You'd be discovered before you got anywhere near it. What are you getting at? Just this. Bud will keep you here so you can't meddle. Town of Fred and I will find your son and return him to you safely. You're lying. I told you you wouldn't believe me. Why should I? Well, as Fred said, you'll learn that later. You're all right, Bud? You betcha. Then we'll leave you. Town of Fred. We're ready any time you want. Come on, Sylvia. Get up, Scott. Get along there, boys. Come on, old fellow. Come on. Two hours later, many miles inside the boundary of the Badlands, the Lone Ranger signaled his two companions to stop. Oh, oh, that's a good one. Now what? Here's where we part company. Yeah? As I told you, Town of Fred and I have already located the hideout. It's not far. Jim Patrick is being held inside a cave at the rear of their camp. Town of Fred knows how it can be reached. Let me show you. You follow Town of do exactly as he directs. And you? What will you be doing? I'm riding directly into the camp. Don't worry about me. They're not likely to fire at a masked man who's alone. And then? You release Jim while I hold their attention and see to it you don't fail. We'll do our best. Not right. Then on your way. Get him up, Scott. Get up, get up there, boys. All right, silver, old fellow. Now it's up to us. Come on, old fellow. Come on. In the absence of their leader, Polk, the outlaw known as Dutch Nolan had assumed command of the band of rustlers who made their headquarters in the Badlands. Their camp occupied a strip of rocky land open on three sides but backed by a cliff the face of which revealed the shadowed entrance to a cave. The rustlers a moment before relaxed and at their ease now stood tensely alert their hands on the butts of their guns their eyes fixed upon the masked figure mounted upon a white horse who slowly rode toward them. Dutch? Right here, mister. Keep coming and careful you don't make no moves for them guns you're wearing. You have a dozen men here, Dutch. You think I'd be fool enough to take them on single-handed? Who are you? Oh, oh, silver. Does that matter? How'd you find us? Known about this spot for quite a while. Yeah? You come alone? Did your guard report anyone with me? No. Then it looks as though I did. Smooth talker, huh? What's that mask mean? You want to join up? I don't. Then what's your game? You've sent terms to the ranches. Huh? When they jailed Polk, you captured young Patrick. You've told them he dies unless Polk is set free. That right? That's right. What is this? They send you? Perhaps. They're going to let Polk go? I doubt it. Oh, they figure we didn't mean what we said, huh? Well, either they follow orders or they find out different. Dutch, let me give you some advice. Yeah? You'll never secure Polk's release. If you injured Jim Patrick, you'll be hunted down. You and every man here. Sooner or later, you'll be caught. And when you are, you'll hang. Say, is that all you come here for? To try and throw a scare at us? Not quite. Then cut out the palaver. What's the rest of it? I think you'll learn in a moment. Learn it out. Mister, you're up to something. What in thunder is it? What do you think? If you're trying to... Dutch. Yeah? You and your gang have been so suspicious of me. You've watched me every moment I've been here. Think we're going to let you get away with anything? I already have. What is it? Look behind you. Look at that ridge back there. What in touch? He tricked you. There goes Patrick. While that fellow talked to you, they got him out of the cave. There's two fellas with him. After him. Bring him down. Come on, Silver. Hurry, old fellow. Hurry. Hey, Dutch. You idiot. First you let Patrick get away because you're watching the mask color. Then you let the mask on me go clear because you're watching Patrick. Ah, shoot him. Driven. This can complete. Dutch, if Pope gets loose and hears about this, I wouldn't be in your boots for all the cows in the county. On the edge of the badlands where Bud Vance had been left to stand guard over Tom Patrick and his fellow ranchers, all was not going so well. You fellas ain't gonna get away. I got my orders from the mask man and I'm obeying them. You ain't budging. No. Yeah. Hey, what... Don't move. You... Forgot me, didn't you? All right, fellas. Take his gun. No use going to the badlands now. His pods have warned the gang. But we can make this hombre pay and we will. Come on. Heist him on his horse and let's get back to town. All right. It was dawn when Tom Patrick and his fellow ranchers entered town with their prisoner. As word spread of what had happened, an angry crowd gathered in front of the cafe where they had stopped. This conk ought to be strung up. We can hang on. Come on, Tom. Hand him over. We'll have a necktie party. What are we waiting for? He's back. Don't nobody touch him. We've got to make him talk. He'll talk all right before we get through with him. Wait. Listen, I know, Rustler. I was trying to help you. Can't you believe me? You was telling us that of four and it still sounds thin. Better forget that story. It ain't gonna save you. Shut up. I... You don't deserve it, but I'll see too if you get a chance to save your neck if you tell us what we want to know. Honest, I just... Where's that hideout? I don't know, I tell you. I ain't a Rustler. You gotta believe me. Tell us where the hideout is and we'll give you a 24-hour's head start. It's a heap more important to me to save Jim than it is to hang you. How can I tell you what I don't know? He won't talk, Tom. We're just wasting good time. Come on, let's take him out to the oak where we swung up that stage robber. Yes, sir. Maybe he'll talk when he sees we mean business. Hold on a minute. You heard him. You'll get hung as sure as you was born. You still figure to stay stubborn? Won't you believe me? That's enough. All right, men. He's yours. Take the pulpit. Come on. That's my boy with him. Jim. Hi, Jim. I'm safe. Hold it. Hold it. Hold it. Hold it. You got him. What's going on here? We found him. These fellas saved my life. Jim, we found him. You should have seen them trick those coyotes back there. The masked fellow rides right into their camp while Tonto and Fred here sneak back to the cave where I was tied and got me loose. Tom. Huh? That gang is finished. Your son is free. You still have Polk in jail and you can go after them with a free hand. Your son here can lead you. He was in their camp long enough to know all of their plans. Yes, but... And Fred and Bud here that you thought rustlers risked their lives to save your sons. See to it, you don't forget that. Forget it? That's exactly what I'm thinking of. Look here, you two. Yeah? Yesterday, I was all for driving you out. But now, if you fellas try to leave this county, why golly, I'll drag you back. You're just the kind of fellas this district needs. I've just heard as a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated.
