A fiery horse with the speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty high-o silver, the Lone Ranger. The early settlers in the western United States found that many sections of the new territory were sacred to the Indians, and that the Red Men would rather die than surrender them. Even after treaties had been signed and the Indians had retired to reservations, the settlers had trouble with their superstitions. And if it had not been for the masked rider of the plains with his great strength and courage and his knowledge of the country, this trouble might have led to open warfare. Return with us now to those thrilling days when the West was young, from out of the past from the thundering hoofbeats of the great horse Silver, the Lone Ranger rides again. Come on, Silver! We're heading for Tom Tom! Dusk had fallen on fertile Tom Tom Valley and seated on the front porch of his ranch house, Hugh Finch agreed to tell his son, Jimmy, the story of how the valley had received its name. All right, all right, young'un, I'll tell you. My gosh, the way you pester a fella, you won't have no show. Now, sit still and quit fidgeting around. Was it really named on account of the Indians? Was it, Pa? Well, yeah, kind of. They didn't name it Tom Tom Valley, though. Never did know what they called it. Hurry up, Pa. Well, then stop asking so many questions to interrupt. Well, Jimmy, the way I heard it was like this. Once upon a time, long before any whites ever come here to stay, the Redskins set quite a lot of store by this valley. Kind of sacred to them it was. That is, it was to the tribe that lived around here. Didn't mean anything to the others at all. But, Pa... Now, you hush up. You got me to talking and I ain't gonna stop. Anyhow, even though the one tribe figured it was the boss of these parts, there was others that didn't agree with them. The ones here first was Dakota's. The others, I reckon, were mostly Sioux. Did they fight? Sure, every once in a while. And every once in a while, some of them Sioux would find this here valley. Maybe it'd look good to them and they'd camp. Then the drums would start beating out. Gee. It didn't matter whether them Sioux got here at night or day. Whether they came here whooping and hollering or if they snuck in. All of them drums beat out. War drums, Pa? Well, son, that's the funny part of it. They meant war, sure. The minute they heard them, the Dakotas had come racing to the valley and they'd be fighting fit to kill. Till the Siouxs had vamoosed or been killed off. Then they was war drums. Well, I guess. But I've talked to trappers that used to come through here them times. Those trappers claimed the drums was never seen. And neither was the fellows that beat them. Knocked even by the Injins. Huh? They were spirit drums. And was Injun spirits made them sound out. Oh, golly. It was like them Injun spirits didn't want nobody to come here. The first whites that tried to settle in the valley heard them. But by then, the Injuns was on a reservation, so there was no fighting. But you know what happened to them first settlers? What, Pa? They'd wake up in the dead of night and find their crops had been trampled. Or their stock run off. Or maybe even their house is on fire. Gosh, Pa, that won't happen to us, will it? Will it, Pa? Nope, Jimmy. I reckon that's one thing, anyhow, we won't have to worry about. It's been 20 years since anybody's claimed to hear them drums. Guess the spirits got tired of standing guard and finally vamoosed like the Sioux used to do. Gee, I'm sure glad of that. So, young'un, that's how the valley got its name. I suppose maybe they're... Ah! What? Listen, you hear them? Jumpin' Jehoshaphat. The drums. Oh, Silver, oh boy. Oh, Silver, oh. Oh, fella, oh, fella. Listen, Taddo. Ah. You hear them? Drums. From the direction of Tom Tom Valley. Ah. Drums have been silent for years. Spitter to red man, make noise. Come, Taddo. I've heard the legend many times. Now's our chance to investigate. Ah. Get him up. Come on, Silver. Hurry, old fella. Hurry! Sheriff! What? Listen to him, Sheriff. Just listen. Huh? What got into you, Curly? Listen to what? Can't you hear him? Shut up, everybody. Speak for playing that piano. What's the matter? Shut up, fellas, and listen. The drums. The drums of Tom Tom Valley. Sheriff, it means trouble. It means trouble for the folks that live there. Trouble? Sure, no such thing. Foolishness, that's what it is. Yeah, just foolishness. The drums beating out their mysterious rhythm after a silence of 20 years caused excited comment wherever they were heard. But no one would admit they believed in the superstition or that the drums meant trouble for the residents of the three ranches in Tom Tom Valley. Late that night, however, Hugh Finch awoke with a start. His son was screaming outside his bedroom door. Ah, wait. Jimmy. Hurry, Paul. Just a second, son. Now, what in Tarnation is the matter here? What's all this yelling about? Come on, I'll show you. You can see better if you look out the door. Look. Well, love. Water. Water everywhere. All over everything. Kid, somehow the reservoirs bust. I woke up and just happened to look out and... Gee. Huh? The drums, Paul. You think the engine spirits did it? Jimmy, don't ask me what I think. All I know is I'm going to have one swell time getting water for our critters through the summer. At that same time, the Lone Ranger and his faithful Indian companion, Tonto, had rained in their mouths halfway up the gradual slope that marked one end of the valley. With the hills throwing back echoes, Tonto, it's hard to be certain just where the original sound came from. I'm sure it must have been somewhere around here. Um, Tonto, think same. Well, it's dark, though. We won't be able to find out much. We wait till sun up? I think so. And in the morning, I don't want you to make a trip to town. What do? You know the legend of the drums, Kimasabi. You most likely know it better than I do. Some kind of disaster to the residents of the valley always follows when they've been heard. Uh-huh. My part, I certainly don't believe in that old superstition. But we did hear the drums. Indians themselves couldn't have beat them, nor soldiers. Isn't that right? Might have been a practical joke. If it was, it was a poor one, without much point to it. Uh-huh. But if trouble did strike at the ranchers below... What do you think? It's not easy to say. That's why I want you to go to town. If anything happened, there'll be talk and you'll hear it. Uh-huh. And trouble will suggest a lot of possibilities. And there's a good place to camp in those trees, Kimasabi. Come. Get on, let's go. Come on, Silver. The following morning, Tonto rode to town and returned later with news of what had happened at the Finch Ranch. During the next week, the drums were not heard again. And in spite of a thorough search, the Lone Ranger was unable to locate the spot from which the sound came. But just at dusk, exactly seven days later, the Masked Man was standing beside Silver, fixing his bedroll to the saddle. Yep. Well, there we are, old fellow. That'll hold. About ready, Tonto? Uh-huh. Not take long, no. I don't like leaving here, but I'm afraid we've been wasting our time. Uh-huh. Frankly, when we first heard the drums, I suspected that crooks might be using that old Indian legend for purposes of their own. Me think that, too. Stand still, scout. Trouble will follow the drums, all right, but not the kind I looked for. Certainly no one around here stands to gain by the fact that the water Finch had stored for his cattle is gone. Uh-huh. If it had been a hold-up or raid, that would have been a different matter. Uh-huh. Most likely, it was just a coincidence that the reservoir broke so soon after the drums were heard. That's right. And if it was, Tonto, there they are again. Uh-huh. You hear them? Wait. They're closer to them than before, Kimasabi. Try your best to locate where that sound's coming from. Come that way. I think you're right. Me ready. Leave now? Leave with the drums sounding a second time? Tonto, we're seeing this through to the finish. Into the saddle. Uh-huh. Ride for the drums and hope that this time they last long enough to guide us there. Come on, old drums. Come on, boy. Hurry, old drums. Hurry. Lone Ranger and Tonto were not the only horsemen who had leaped to the saddle at the sound of the drums. Hunk Wooster, one of Tom Tom Valley's three ranchers and Finch's closest neighbor, urged his mount to its greatest speed as he raced toward town. Get up, bro. Get up. Come on. Get up there. Get up there. Finally, he reined in his lathered horse before the sheriff's office. The drums had stopped, but Hunk threw himself from the saddle. Oh, hold up. Oh, bro. Oh, hold up. How'd you, Sheriff? Highway protection. Evening, Hunk. The drums, eh? You're doggone right. And I ain't fool enough to think that ghost drum was beat by engine spirits, neither. It's somebody up to some trick. It's somebody that can stop lead just as easy as you and me could. Wait a second, Hunk. Well? Just what are you scared of? Do you think this time somebody's plan to do you some harm? How should I know? Then what do you... All I know is last time the drums beat out, Hughes Reservoir was busted. Maybe this time something will happen to him again, or to me, or to old man Conklin, or maybe to all of us. And you've got to see that it don't. Ain't you jumping awful fast to conclusions? How do you know there was any connection between that reservoir and the drums a week ago? I don't. But I can play safe, can't I? Yeah, yeah, I see what you mean. Well, what are you going to do about it? Just what I was going to do, even if you hadn't showed up. Oh. Get my deputy and a few others to ride out the valley. There's three places there, and I'll put a couple of men to watch in each one. I'll keep an eye on your place myself. Is that all right? You was going to do that anyhow? Sure. And that's fine. The sooner you get out there, the better. Go on back if you're worried. We won't be ten minutes behind you. Yeah, thanks, Sheriff. I don't know what this kind of a trick would gain anybody. I ain't superstitious. But I don't mind admitting with a long hand, I'll feel a sight easier in my mind. Goodbye. There was a matter of but a few minutes for the Sheriff to saddle his horse and choose a posse from the many willing volunteers. There were six in his party when he rode out, and two were assigned to each ranch in the valley. He himself chose a rooster place and watched the house from the top of a small rise, while his partner watched from the other side. There was a full moon, and as the Sheriff waited, he studied every detail of the surrounding country. Quiet, boy. Quiet. If there's anybody around, I'd just soon not scare him away. Take it easy, boy. Just take it easy. An hour passed. The lawman was becoming restless. And suddenly, from below, in the direction of Hunk Wooster's barn corrals, bright tons of flame shot in the air. What the? Fire! It's got the barn. She's a goner for sure. Come on, boy. Get up there. Get up. Keep moving, boy. Come on. I'm coming. Get those fellas to carry in water. Get up there. Get up. Get up. Oh, this way. I see you. Oh, fella. Hold that. Oh, whoa. Oh, whoa. You can't save the barn, fellas. Let's try and keep the flames from spreading. All right. There's more pals in the house. Now, get the hustle on. I see it. Did you see him? Which way to go? Which way to who go? I had a poor cat to set my barn a fire, of course. I mean to say he was watching and never seen him. From where I was, I could have seen a gopher if he'd tried to sneak away. Well, let me... I tell you, sure, if I'm sitting here, I never seen nobody. 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 and Tonto, taking advantage of the bright moonlight, continued their search for the drums. When the flames broke out in the valley, they stopped to watch them. Oh, Silver. Look out. Oh, oh. Tonto, whoever's behind us is struck again. That's Huck Worcester's place. Yeah. We right there? No, wait. Heat big fire. One moment. No, Tonto, look. They have plenty of help. See them against the blaze? They have all the men they need to get the fire under control. Yeah, that's right. I think it's more important for us to find where the drums were hidden. And now it must have been somewhere right in here. Come. Let's have a look by those rocks. Get them up, Scout. Come on, old boy. And there's a clearing behind them. There's a sign to be found. It'll be plain there. Luckily, we have more light to see by than we had last week at this time. Here we are. Pull up, Kimo, Sabe. Oh, Scout. Oh, no, Sabe. Better climb down. You can see better. Tonto, is that... It is. Tonto, come here. What'd you find? What we've been looking for, Tonto. The place where the drums were. Oh, there. Sign. Right. And have a look here. Oh, me see them. Tonto, the drums may have been ghost drums. And they may have been beat by an Indian spirit. But if they were, he wore cowman's boots and rolled his own cigarettes. Him heap funny spirit. See anything else? Not all. Yes, it does seem to be all. I'd hope that once we found this place, it would tell us more. As a matter of fact, however, that fellow rode away from here over that malpie. I doubt that we can even trail him. Hmm, that way him go. You see? Yes. You can see the prints of his horse until he reaches the lava rock and no farther. Ah. Well, that trail's ended. And there's no use keeping this spot under observation. He won't be back. Remember last week, Tonto? Ah. The sound of the drums came from that side of the valley. The place is changed each time to escape capture. That's right. Actually, beyond the fact that the drums aren't sounded by spirits, which we knew before, this has told us just one thing. What's that? That for some reason, the man or men doing this choose to let the drum be heard at intervals of exactly one week. Ah. And I think we can be pretty sure the drums will be heard in another week, exactly at this time. And why do you think that? Because they're following a pattern. There were three ranches in the valley. Last week, the drums beat out and they struck at Finch. Ah. And this week again, the mooster's barn burned. Ah, me savvy. There's one rancher left, Conklin. Mark my words, Tonto, you'll hear the drums again a week from now. Why, Tonto, do this? That's what I can't understand. They gain nothing by it. I mentioned that before. Could be revenge, of course, but that doesn't explain the drums. A man after revenge wouldn't announce the hour when he's going to strike. It would mean that the whole district would be on hand. Tonto, wait. Ah. I think I have it. I see a reason for this. One of the best reasons in the world. I may be wrong, but if I'm not, it'll explain everything. Not good. Back to camp, Tonto. I want to think this out. Yep. Ready? Uh-huh. Be ready. Then let's go. Hurry up, Tonto. Get him up, Tonto. Another week passed, and early on the evening of the seventh day in the office of the sheriff, the lawman was busy inserting bullets into the worn cylinders of his two heavy guns. Hugh Finch and Curly, who had dropped in to talk, hooked on an amusement. Figure I'm going ghost hunting again tonight, Sheriff. I'm going to fill one of them Indian spirits full of lead. Huh? Me? It don't seem to me, Sheriff, that guns are just a thing for that kind of a chore. Hey, you fellas got me wrong. This ain't on account of the drums. No. You forget what day this is? It's the 15th. It's the day the train always brings in cash for Slocum's bank. Oh, yeah. Slipped my mind. I said so. You ought to recollect it, Curly. You used to work for Slocum. Sure. I just been thinking about them drums so much tonight. Guess I was forgetting that. Tain't a thing Slocum ever forgets. He's always hounding me to be there when the train gets in. Not that I blame him much. Forty or fifty thousand is a side of cash. Which same I could use some of. Well, is there any one of us that couldn't? But speaking of the drums, Sheriff, don't you really figure we'll hear him again tonight? I wouldn't even try to make a guess. Most everybody else figures they will. Uh-huh. So I've noticed. Sheriff, I'll bet they ain't a man, woman, or child able to stick a saddle that ain't just waiting for them drums to hightail for the valley. Think I don't know it? Look outside. Gosh, where'd all them folks come from? They're everywhere, as I reckon. Didn't know there was that many in the whole state. You mean all them are going to the valley? All them? You ain't seen nothing. There's more all over town. And they're just the lazy ones. Too lazy to ride out to the valley less than they're sure there's going to be some excitement. Huh? There's ten times that many out there already are on the trail heading there. It's what's an election day. Well, doggone. Well, what'd you expect? They've all heard about the drums and the stories folks tell. Sure they'd be interested. Well, anyhow, I don't... We can say the drums again. Dad ratted more trouble. Come on. Last time the fellow set fire to hunt, he's got away. But this time... You get him? Get him? Hurry, I'll hang that gent so high he'll look like a crow up there. Hi, deputy. Hit my horse. The Lone Ranger and Tonto watched the crowd of curious men and women as it poured into the valley. Tonto, with that crowd on its way, it doesn't matter whether my theory is right or wrong. What do you mean? If Conklin's in danger, Tonto, we certainly couldn't protect him if that crowd can't. Hmm, that's right. There were hundreds of them. Huh. And I think that's exactly what the men behind us have planned on. Huh? What time is it? The time we ride. It must be Kimasabi. Come. Get him up, scout. All right, old fellow. Let's go. In the excitement caused by the third sounding of the drums, no one, not even the sheriff, remembered the train that was racing across the prairies toward town and his valuable shipment of gold. For 200 miles, his rails stretched across level country. Not until the town was in sight did the journey become difficult. Then, forced to fight its way up a steep grade, the train slowed down until it was barely making headway. Suddenly, two hooded and mounted figures raced toward the engine, firing as they came. The engineer held stubbornly to the open throttle, thought better of it when a bullet glanced in the middle of his cab. He threw the brake, gears clashed, and the train came to a reluctant stop. The bandits drew guns on the frightened passengers who ventured from the cars. I'm open to reach. All right, first one, go through a gun, get spilled. I'm a conductor. Tell them expressmen to open up their car. That's the one we're interested in. You tell them if they don't, we're going to make you pay. That's to make you hustle. The next one won't miss. Hey, keep an eye on them, Bart. That drummer there looks like he kind of wants to try something. Yeah, well, I'll teach him. You there. Maybe next time you know we mean what we say. What's the matter with that conductor? What's he taking so long for? He's doing his best. You can tell by the way he's waving his arms around. He knows what he'll get if he don't. Yeah. Hi, you there. Step back in the light. Don't go trying to edge your way. Wouldn't be healthy. Electra, hustle it up. Maybe I better ride down there. Hey, careful of them guards. They ought to have shotguns. Don't worry, I'll take it. Who's that? Keep the sheriff. Then I know it again. We've got to do something. But what'll we do? Them shots come too close. We've got to get out of here. But the cage. The blazes with the cage. There's always another time. I'm saving my skin. Come on, this way. Run for it. Wait, you can't go that way. Then what are we going to do? Can't you see the gutters cut off? And look at them horses travel. They'd catch us in no time. What do we do? Ride for the engine. That'll give us cover. From there we can fight them off and they can't touch us. Get up, boy. Come on. Get up. Get up. Get up. Carry in. Get us. We'll blast the headlights out of you. Here we are. Pull up. Whoa, whoa, boy. Whoa, boy. Get out of the way out there. There, Moose, you two are stuffed red. All right, get a move, boy. Climb up. Yeah, come on. Give me a push. Up you go. All right, come on. Get down. Bullets can't go through this. Hold it. Look there. They're stopping. Drill him. Hold on your hands and surrender. Wait a minute, children. Surrender. Come out of there with your hands in the air. You meddling skunk. Stop this. You ask for it. A boiler. He's shot into the boiler. No. I'm getting burned. Stop the boiler. Stop. Even after the drums had stopped beating, the sheriff watched for an attack on the Conklin Ranch House. None came, however, and finally he turned to Hugh Finch. Well, Hugh, I reckon this time it ain't no use. Too many of us. If they had anything planned, we scared them off. Yeah, sheriff, it looks like it. Anyhow, I'm going back. There's plenty of others that'll wait. Won't be able to drive most of them away till daylight, and then... Sheriff, turn around. Huh? Look there. Well, I'll be a masked man and a redskin, driving two fellows ahead of him wearing hoods. Hurry! Pull up! Pull up and raise your hands! You're all under arrest! Don't go! Don't go! Hey, Roger, prisoner, sheriff. Here. I'll take this one's hood off. Now, look at him. Curly! This fellow. Why, it's Hunk Wooster. Well, what are you doing? Listen here. It's all a mistake. Quiet. Sheriff, this masked man's... Hey, keep still. Sheriff, these men just attempted to hold up the train. You'd rather take them back to town. There's a dozen witnesses waiting for you. The train? Slocum's cash. Oh, golly, I clean forgot it. Which was just what these fellows expected. Huh? They're the ones who used those drums. Curly confessed on the way here. He'll tell you where to find them. I'll tell you... Still, I said. The first time the drums sounded, they broke Finch's reservoir, knowing no one would really expect trouble. Yeah, but then they... The second time, Sheriff, while you were watching for someone to leave or try to reach Hunk's place, he himself set fire to his barn. A few dollars it would take to replace it were nothing to the stakes he was playing for. You're telling that straight? I am. The first time got people interested, Sheriff. And the second convinced them there would be trouble in the valley each time the drums sounded. And the third time brought every man, woman, and child out here. Well, they held up the train in plain sight of town without being disturbed. Well, I'll be doggone. And they wouldn't have been disturbed if Tonto and I hadn't suspected their game. Who are you? Yeah, mister, what do you do? You have your prisoners. But I... The rest can wait. Hold on! Hold on there! Gone. Uh-huh. Just like... Huh? The Lone Ranger. The story you have just heard is a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated.
