Fiery horse with the speed of light, the cloud of dust, and a hearty hail, Silver, the Lone Ranger. As faithful Indian companion, Tonto, the masked rider of the plains, 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 come the thundering hoofbeats of the great horse, Silver. The Lone Ranger rides again. Come on, Silver, the danger on the trail ahead. I am Silver, always. In the thick gloom of a starless night, the hoarse but plaintive sound of a locomotive whistle seemed almost human. As it echoed through chaparral and canyon walls, it was like the rumbling cry of a giant whose great fingers had clawed twin scars of steel across the plains of the southwest. But even before it died away, the steel scars began to hum and pulse with light. And a moment later, they were smothered under a monstrous roar of pounding drivers and escaping steam. In the engine cab, a man whose hand rested on the throttle turned to the fireman beside him. That's enough, Bill. We'll wait here on the siding. Let number 29 through. Is she on time? Should be. Oh, I can use a little rest. That telegraph hill's a long pull. Yeah, it's a long... Oh, here comes 29. High balling, ain't she? Only pulling three cars, and it's downgrade all the way to Beekman. I wish we had that run. I wish we had anything but the express car we're pulling. Well, it's better than freight. There's 10,000 gold back there in that car. I'll have a heap more peace of mind when we pull into Cold Springs with it. Well, that ain't our worry. Come on, let her out. Let's get back in the main line. Yeah, I'll give her... Keep your hands off that throttle and heist them, both of you. What the... Hold up. That's the right answer, stranger. Just keep them hands in the air and we won't have no trouble. Kip. Yeah? Like as not the gold's back in the express car, go grab it. Sure. I'll take care of these jaspers. You get the gold. Right away. You won't get away with this. The railroad company will have the law on your trail before morning. The railroad company... That's a good one. And there's armed guards in the express car. You hear that? That means there was guards in the express car. Well, if you think you can... Better go easy with that wood unless you want to taste some of it. You can't... Why, you dirty... I warned you, gents, but you wouldn't listen. The following morning, John Peterson, division superintendent of the Southwestern Railroad, entered his office. It was in a small building in Cold Springs. Bart Keegan, the chief dispatcher, was waiting for him. Morning, Bart. Morning. What's the matter with you? Bad news. What is it? This came in from Beekman Junction a little after midnight last night. Telegram, huh? Let me see it. Number 18 held up and robbed one mile west of here. Engineer and fireman murdered. Gold shipment lost. What are your orders? Number 18. Engineer and fireman. I can't believe it. It's true, John. I telegraphed back to the operator at the junction. This is terrible. It was 10,000 in gold on that train. I know it. The third hole up in two months. Two more lives lost. We've got to stop it some way. What orders shall I send to the junction? The train is still on a siding down there. Tell them we'll send a crew down to bring it in. All right. Anything else? Yes, I want you to send a telegram to the governor of the state. Governor? Governor, what do you mean about these holdups? Evidently, it's too big a job for the sheriff here in Cold Springs. Something's got to be done. Sure. But what can the governor do? Send a United States Marshal down here. That's right. Shall I send a telegram? Right away. Right. I know. Now, wait a minute. I have a better idea. The Lone Ranger. Lone Ranger? Who's he? The only man who can handle a situation like this. Hey, come to think of it, I have heard of that hombre. How do we get hold of him? Well, that's the trouble. I don't know. Then I'd better send to the marshal. No, no, wait. There must be some way to get a message to him. What does he look like? He's tall, wears a mask, rides a white horse. There's an Indian who travels with him. Yeah. Now I remember. If there's anyone who can help us stop these holdups, he can do it. Wait here for me, Keegan. Where are you going? Send a message to the Lone Ranger. During the next three days, John Peterson spent all of his time riding the range country around Cold Springs. He talked to cowboys, track workers, mule skinners, miners, and Indians. It was the only way he knew to get a message to the masked man of the plains. Oh, city boy, city. You seen the Lone Ranger? No, not for two, three months. Well, if you see him, tell him to get in touch with me. My name's Peterson, John Peterson. Southwestern Railroad in Cold Springs. The Lone Ranger. Do you know where he is? Haven't seen him. I'm trying to reach him. My name's John Peterson. Yeah, I saw the masked man about a month ago. Where? Over on the western slope. He was heading this way. Thanks, thanks a lot. The Lone Ranger. Do you know where he is? Him south, other side of pass. Are you traveling that way? Tell him to come to Cold Springs as soon as he can. My name's John Peterson. Finally, the widespread message of John Peterson reached the man to whom it was sent. In a camp many miles south of Cold Springs, Tonto had just finished reading a smoke signal that came from a distant peak. What is it, Tonto? Coyote Indians, send you a message from white man. Who? Him, not say. Him sayeth man who keep iron horse in Cold Springs. Him wants you come there plenty fast. The only railroad man I know in Cold Springs is John Peterson. He must be the one. Here, Silver. We go, Cold Springs? Easy, big fella. Yes, just as fast as we can ride. How far is it? One day, maybe two. Come on, Silver. Get him up to the scout. It was late afternoon of the second day after he had received Peterson's message that the Lone Ranger and Tonto rode up in front of the railroad office. Oh, Silver. Let's go, oh, fella. Oh, such a big fella. Now, wait here for me, Tonto. Huh? Howdy, Lone Ranger. He's masked. I got your message, Mr. Peterson. I've been praying that you would. That's the trouble. Oh, excuse me. This is Bart Keegan, my train dispatcher. Glad to know you. Thanks. I sent for you because I need help. Your kind of help. We've had three hold-ups in the last two months. At least five men have been killed. I haven't heard about them. No, I've tried to keep it as quiet as possible. But the company can't pay any more gold losses or they'll go broke. Not to mention the loss of life. Where do these hold-ups occur? Generally on the siding, just this side of Beekman Junction. It's the only piece of double track we have in the division. Why should it happen at that particular spot? Because the express car loads the gold at Beekman and they have to wait in the siding for number 29 to go through. And the men who hold it up must know for sure which train is carrying gold. They do. They get exact information some way. Who knows about it besides you? No one but Keegan and the sheriff here in town. Why do you tell the sheriff? Well, he furnishes guards for the express car. I see. When is the next shipment of gold scheduled to come through? None coming this way for another month. I'm sending the mining company's payroll down to Beekman tonight. Good. And can you arrange for me to ride that train? Of course. Will you be one of the guards in the express car? No, I'd rather ride in the cab with the engineer, if you have no objection. I'll give the orders at once. Fine. I'll ride this train to Beekman tonight and come back in the morning. What time does it leave? Midnight. Don't you want to meet the sheriff? Oh, thanks. I'd rather work alone. I'll see you both in the morning. Yeah, sure. Oh, but wait. Don't you want to find out... Hmm. It's strange. He doesn't seem to want any more information. If you ask me, I think you've told him too much already. Hey, nobody knows who he is. He wears a mask. How do you know he can be trusted? That's my business, Keegan. All I want you to do is give orders at the roundhouse that a mask man will ride the cab of number 29 tonight. I'll take care of it. And don't forget to hold 18 at Beekman until his train gets through. I'm not likely to forget anything as important as that. After the Lone Ranger left the railroad office, he stopped and spoke to Tonto. Tonto. Ah. I'm going to ride a midnight train to Beekman Junction. That's about 20 miles east of here. Hmm. Me ride Iron Horse, too? No. I want you to take Silver and Scout and ride to the junction now. Wait for me there. Ah. If anything happens, we may need the horses. Ah. Tonto Savvy. Go with Tonto, Silver. I'll meet you later. Come, Silver. Get him up, Scout! Keeping well within the shadows and back streets of the little western town, the Lone Ranger's next stop was at the sheriff's office. Matt, who are you? A friend of John Peterson's. Railroad? That's right. And I just wanted to tell you, Sheriff, that I'm riding that payroll train that leaves for Beekman at midnight. I don't know who you are, but if Peterson wants you on the train, it's no business of mine. Your men will be in the express car, won't they? Two of them. Might even make the run myself. Good. And we understand each other? Why, sure. Good night, Sheriff. I'll see you on number 18. A short time later, the masked man walked past the railway roundhouse and approached a short siding where a locomotive, a tender, and two express cars were waiting. He noticed a sudden change in the wind, and just as he swung up the engine cab's iron steps, large drops of rain began to fall. It seemed as though even the weather was conspiring to make this the most eventful run in number 18's short history. Hello. Hello. You kind of scared me. No reason to be frightened. I'm riding down to Beekman with you. Yeah, I know. Mr. Peterson took... I mean, Mr. Keegan told me there'd be a fellow show up wearing a mask. I guess you must be him. Now, just who did tell you that? Mr. Peterson or Mr. Keegan? Well, both of them. Keegan said the message was from Peterson. I see. You're the engineer. Your name must be read. That's right. But it doesn't look like we're going to roll out of here on time. What's wrong? My fireman took sick on me real sudden-like. Got a way till I find somebody to toss fuel. Oh, that's a search. It's over quickly. I'll handle it. You? Why not? Let her roll, Red. Let's head for Beekman. Sure thing. Is this much of a run? Pretty tough on a bad night like this one. I'll need a lot of steam. You're going to get it. The red glow of leaping flames from the firebox etched out to rippling lines of power in the lone ranger's sleek-muscled frame as he tossed in fuel. At the boilerhead, Red, the engineer, watched the steam gauge creep upward. The locomotive seemed to leap forward as though it were made of flesh and blood. A shower of hot sparks flew from its stack and were instantly extinguished by the rain. On and on, the iron monster raced through the night with ever-increasing speed. Suddenly, there was a clatter of firewood under the grating. And although the masked man turned quickly, he wasn't quick enough. Two grim-eyed men were facing him with drawn guns. Reach and make it fast. I'll have to keep my hands on it. Shut up. Maybe this will keep me quiet. Oh. How about the one with the mask? He gets special treatment. And he gets it right now. 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. As the lone ranger faced the guns of the outlaws in the swaying cab of the locomotive, he realized the hopelessness of his position. It flashed through his mind that these men must have been hiding in the tender all the way from Cold Springs, waiting for a moment to strike. He leaped away from the boiler head in his right-hand streak for his holstered gun. Watch out. He's going to do it. No, he's not. That's what you think. Oh, my arm. He plugged me in the arm. I've got him. Help me. Help me. I'll get my gun. Pull. Pull. Pull. Pull. Pull. There. That did it. He just laid that barrel alongside his skull in time. He almost had me pushed into that firebox. Yeah, he's a wildcat. That's what he is. Yeah. Say, how do we slow this caliope down? That's the throttle. Over there. Oh, you tackle it. I'm scared of these things. There's nothing to it. Just push this lever forward. No, no, no, no. Not too much. You don't want them guards in the express car to get wise. There, that's enough. Yeah. Now we'll take care of this barman with a mask. Why not give him some lead like the redhead? No, no. Boss give me a different idea. What do you mean? Well, the trouble is there's no rope around here to do it with. To do what with? We're going to take this hombre and tie him on the front end of this steam wagon. Tie him on the front end of the steam wagon? Oh, what good will that do? A lot. That is, if the boss remembers his part of the scheme. Say, I don't get it. All right. Listen. We tie our friend here onto the front end of this engine. Yeah? The boss has juggled some dispatcher's orders back in Cold Springs. Instead of number 18 that's heading west, waiting on the sidon for us to go through. Why, it's on the main line right now, coming this way. Now you got it. Say, how about us? We're not going to stay with this contraption when she smashes. No, we'll jump clear since we see number 18's headlight. Come on, now. It's up to us to tie this critter and get him up in front. Yeah, but, Kip, what are we going to use for rope? Well, I don't know, but we'll... Hey, what's the matter with this? Huh? Well, it's a rawhide for my gun belt. Good night. I'll strip each wrist. We'll lug him out in front. There. That ought to hold him to some of the bars on the front of this thing. Yeah, but wait. How are we going to get him out there? This chariot's moving. Don't forget that. Yeah? Carry him. But how? Oh, come on. If you can stay on the back of a bronc, you ought to be able to walk out on this thing. All right. Now, you grab his shoulders. I'll lug the rest of them. Spraying their unconscious burden between them, the two outlaws crept out on the catwalk of the moving locomotive. There, in the face of wind and rain, they lashed the masked man to the iron supports that braced the huge headlight. Then, as the train reached a slight upgrade, they leaped to safety on a sloping embankment. A few moments later, the lone ranger regained consciousness to feel the hard rush of wind and rain in his face. Pain punished him. There was sharp agony in his arms and wrists. With a haunting sense of dread, he realized he was lashed in a position that meant certain death. Then his ears caught an even more ominous sound, the mournful howl of a train whistle coming in the opposite direction. In a fraction of a second, he reasoned the full, diabolic plan of the outlaws. They had ordered the dispatcher's orders to the train coming west. Instead of waiting at Beekman Junction, it was ahead of time. The two trains would crash head on. Faster and faster, the pounding drivers drummed their pulsing rhythm through the rails. There was each second bringing the lone ranger nearer to death. He tugged frantically at the throngs which bound his wrists. Then suddenly he felt them give. It gave him new hope in the answer to the outlaw's mistake. They had tied him with rawhide. And rawhide stretches when it's wet. He struggled with all his might. The oncoming train was nearer now. He dropped in with a suddenness that almost drew him forward to the rails. His wrist came free. There was hardly a glance at the locomotive which was now almost above him. The masked man leaped into space. Even before he hit the ground, he was almost deafened by the tremendous crash as two locomotives met head on. Because of the force of his fall, the lone ranger again lost consciousness. He didn't hear the shouts of the outlaw gang as they took the gold from the wrecked express car. This is it, boys. Split wide open. Grab it. Where do we head for? The hideout. Get to your horses. Nor was he conscious of the fact that his faithful Indian friend Tonto had seen and heard the wreck. His first realization as he opened his eyes was that the rainstorm had ceased and there were stars in the sky. He knew that his head was pillared on a blanket and he heard a familiar voice. You, you feel better, Kemosabe? Yes, Tonto. Where am I? You, by trail of iron horse, keep big wreck, throw you here. Oh, yes. I remember now. The outlaws. Where did they go? Huh? You rest, Kemosabe. Rest. Then we trail a crook. The plotters, certain the lone ranger was dead, had made no effort to conceal their trail. It therefore was a simple matter for Tonto to follow the tracks even after darkness. When the trail led into a woods that moonlight didn't penetrate, the Indian dismounted and went ahead by feeling the depressions in the ground where men's boots had sunk. Presently, he saw a cabin from which shone candlelight. Easy, big fella. We'll leave Scout and Sylvie for him with the rest of the way on foot. Yeah. Matt Wood. Seems to be a lot of horses near that shack. Matt Wright. Plenty fella there. Yeah, I thought there was a good-sized gang. Stay there, Sylvie. You do not know who boss the gang? No, Tonto. Boss fella is not on train? No, he wasn't on the train. I hope he's in the cabin. Window on this side of cabin. Open. Good. We can hear what's said. Quietly now. All right, now quiet down. Will you stop your... Quiet down! Stop your grumbling! Told you you'd get your cut of the bull, but you got away. Listen to me, boys. There's no use getting too anxious. If the split was made now, the boss could turn every one of us over to the law. Remember, he knows who we are. And we can't do a thing against him. He'd have all of our necks dressed if we double-crossed him. Now, he'll split with us when it's safe to do so. How soon do you think that'll be? Oh, well, just as soon as he's inspected the wreck and found what the Lone Ranger's done for. He's got to be sure he's in the clear, though. Don't you savvy that? Sure. Now, he's playing his cards mighty careful. Well, he don't even meet us if it isn't necessary. And when he wants to tell us something, he just sends a note without even signing his name. We can count on the boss because he can't do without us. Don't you see? Now, sir, Titan, don't worry. Say, who wants to play some poker? Pudder, the boss isn't here. We get these fellas? No, no. Come on, back to the horses. We'll talk there. Malapuddo, we've got a ride. Keep us happy. We leave this crook? If we try to capture that gang, we'd have to fight a dozen men. And even then, we wouldn't get the boss. The boss is the one we want. How we get him? We've got to make him convict himself. We've got to get proof against him. Otto, they said the boss had to inspect the wreck. Ah, me hear him. That means the boss is one of three men. One of three? The only man who would have any reason to inspect that wreck are the sheriff and the two men in the office of the railroad. Come on, Silver. Get him up, let's go. Lights burned in the office of the railroad. The sheriff sat with John Peterson, the superintendent, and Keegan, the dispatcher. I'll get to the bottom of these robberies if it's the last thing I do. We sure hope you do, don't we, Peterson? Yes. Have you any clues at all, Sheriff? No, but... Keep your hands on the table. Put down those guns. I will. They'll come out fast if I need them. What do you want? It's all right, Keegan. He's mad. Sheriff, he's the Lone Ranger. The Lone Ranger? There's a murderer in this room. What? You'd better be able to prove that. Yes, I know. Have you any proof? I'll do the talking, Peterson. Give the sheriff a piece of writing paper and a pencil. Writing paper? Pencil? Keegan, have you some paper? Yes, of course. Get ready to write what I say. You too, Peterson. I don't think the murderer will be willing to write what I want. I don't like that line of talk. You sound like you're accusing me. So you won't write? Who says I won't? It's hardly necessary for me. I sent for you. Don't you care to write, Peterson? Of course I will. What do you want written? Put down these words. You ready? Yes. Meet me at midnight. It is very important. That's done. Is that all? Yes, write this too. Be careful of a trap. Pay no attention to any other notes. Bring the gang. That's all. What's the idea of this? I'll take those notes. Hand them to me. What's the point in that? I'll tell you the point. I'm going to copy the handwriting on each of these. On your note, Sheriff, I'll copy your writing and I'll add the place of the meeting. I'll call the meeting for Twin Pines. I don't see any sense in that. I'll copy Peterson's writing and make the place of meeting Red Rock. I'll put Cedar Falls on Keegan's note and Keegan's writing. All three notes will go to the gang that robbed the trains. I get it. Only one of these notes will be in the handwriting of the boss of the gang. That note will be considered genuine. The others will be ignored. You three will stay here and keep an eye on each other. While I see to which of the three places the gang goes. Then we'll know the boss. That's a great idea. Now see here. It seems to me. It's a slick scheme. It's too slick. Too slick? Get your hands up. Keegan. You too, Sheriff. And you, Peterson. Keegan, put on that gun. Think I'm crazy? Get over there now, all three of you. I'll shoot to kill at the first sign of a sudden move. Great guns. Keegan is the one. You shut up. Why, you ornery murderer and buzzard? I thought it was either you or Peterson. Someone in this office, Keegan, had to send the trains to smash into each other. I didn't think you'd tip your hand this fast. No, I'll bet you didn't. You thought I'd stay here while you trapped me. But I don't wait to be trapped. I act first. Peterson, take that hunk of rope and tie the masked man. Then do the same to the Sheriff. I won't. Do what I say. The next shot will be in your hide. Wait. Keegan, I didn't think we'd get the truth as soon as we did. But we have it. You've convicted yourself. And go for a gun and see how fast my shooting iron spits lead. I don't need to take a chance. Oh, no? Why not? Great work. Knocked him sprawling. Come on, Tonto. Good shooting. Be ready to shoot at Signal. I never would have suspected Keegan. Right under my nose all the time. The rest of the gang is playing cards in the shack in Gorman's Woods. I know the place. I'll get a posse and round them up. You won't need us for that. I'm hanged if I ever saw a showdown come as sudden as this. I wanted a sudden showdown. That's why I was so anxious to have the Lone Ranger here. But wait. Don't go. He won't wait for thanks. You have just heard is a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated. He won't wait for the Lone Ranger. He won't wait for the Lone Ranger. He won't wait for the Lone Ranger. He won't wait for the Lone Ranger. He won't wait for the Lone Ranger. He won't wait for the Lone Ranger. He won't wait for the Lone Ranger. He won't wait for the Lone Ranger. He won't wait for the Lone Ranger.
