A fiery horse with the speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty how silver. The Lone Ranger. The 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! Hurry, big fellow! I am Silver! Brady of the Southwest Border Patrol walked into the Longhorn Cafe and surveyed the crowd casually. Pushing his way slowly through the assembled cowpunchers, ranchers, gamblers, and hangers-on, he reached the bar and signaled to the white-apron man who stood behind him. Well, what'll it be, stranger? I'm not drinking. Who owns this place? Britain. Flint Berkman. I want to talk to him. Where is he? Standing right down there. Tell him I want to talk to him. I don't know whether he'll... Tell him! You Berkman? I am. Own this place? That's right. I understand you sell a pretty good grade of liquor. Best I can get. Why? I've got something I'd like to talk about. Let's step down to the end of the bar. It's more private. Sure. Walk up front. Now, what's on your mind? You don't have to stand so close to me that I... Yes, I do. Because this thing that's poking you in the ribs is a .45. What? What's the idea? Hold up? Not a hold up. You're coming with me, that's all. What for? The Border Patrol figures there's a lot of liquor being smuggled across the river, duty-free. Maybe you're selling something. Oh, no. No, no, I'm not. Honest, I'm not. I don't know where it comes from. You've got a pretty good idea, ain't you? No. If you was to be questioned, you might remember some names. Look, I don't want to be mixed up in anything. You won't be. Patrol's just interested in some of those names. Well, as long as you don't bring me into it... What the... Who fired that shot? The front door's standing wide open. It came from there. Close the door. Nobody can leave this room. What do you mean? The shot came from outside. What have we got to do with it? I say keep away from those doors, all of you. Who's he? I don't know. Listen, stranger, we're peaceable citizens. You can't order us around that way. Oh, wait a minute. I'm the sheriff here. If there's any orders given, I'll give them. No, you won't. I'll handle it. My name's Brady, Border Patrol. Brady? Border Patrol. From the patrol, huh? You down here trailing liquor smugglers? Yeah. I almost had some information this time... ...until the murdering varmint stopped it with a bullet. You mean Burtman? He was just about to give me some names when that shot was fired. Hey, David, interfere with the work of the patrol, Mr. Brady. But you're making a mistake holding everybody here like this. Yeah? I was in the room here myself. The shot came from the outside. Maybe it did. Maybe it didn't. If it did, the killer will be a thousand miles away... ...while you gents stand here and argue about it. I'm full of the posse. Right now. All deputies report for duty at once. Now, wait a minute. I don't care if you're the whole Border Patrol. I'm the sheriff of this county. There's been a murder committed and I'm going to run down the hombre that did it. Come on, boys. The sheriff formed his posse in short order. A few hours later, they were scouring the countryside for miles around. The lawmen had split up into various small groups. And as the night wore on, the sheriff and one of his deputies suddenly came upon a man who was camped alone beside a small creek. Oh, oh, oh, oh, you're better. Oh, there. Elevate your hands, stranger. Well, what's the idea? Keep him covered, Joe. We're looking for a murder. Oh. Well, that lets me out. I ain't so sure. What's your name? Sam Patch. Patch, yeah. Where are you from? No place in particular, just drifting. Didn't by any chance drift into a cafe south of here last night and kill a man, did you? This is the furtherest south I've been in six months. Let's see that smoke pool you're packing. Sure. But it's not my gun. Let me see it. Sure. What did you say your handle was? Patch. Sam Patch. The initials on this shooting iron are L.W. Well, I told you it wasn't my gun. I was just going to explain it. Mothers always have an alibi. What's yours? This is no alibi. It's the truth. I just made camp here about sundown yesterday when a stranger rolled up. He held a gun on me and made me change clothes with him. Then he took my gun and left this one. That ain't even a good story. If you ask me, I think we've got the right man, Sheriff. So do I. We'll take him in. But you can't... Climb in the saddle with my deputy. Keep your mouth shut. I haven't done anything. Move. Right about that. Get him. Get along here. Come on. Get up. With Sam Patch lodged in jail, the sheriff convinced everyone that the murder of Flint Berkman had been brought to justice. However, public sentiment ran high and there was talk of expediting justice with the lynch. In the confusion, no one paid any particular attention to a gray-faced Indian and a young boy who stood at the edge of the crowd. These people are really excited, Toto. I wonder if the man the sheriff brought in is really a murderer like they say. I may not know, Dan. Look, that sheriff now. Him may talk. All right, quiet. Quiet! All you folks might as well go on home. We've got the hombre that killed Flint Berkman. Law will take its course. He's got a stretch roof anyway. Let's do it now. I said quiet. Prisoners in the hands of the law. You folks, you better break this up or I'll throw some of you into the calaboos with him. That did the trick, sheriff. I don't think there'll be any more lynch talk. Better not be. Lynchings might mean a United States marshal coming down here. I'd rather handle the law in my own way. Sure. Well, I guess I'll go on home to dinner now. You stay here on guard duty, Joe. Yeah. Say, what about grub for the prisoner? Order something from the restaurant just like we always do. Nobody around here to go after it, unless I do. You stay where you are. Find some kid to fetch a grub for you. There's one standing over there with that engine. All right. Hey, son. I'll see you later. Yeah, sure. Did you call me? Yeah. I wonder if you do the law a favor, kid. I'd be glad to. Go across the street to the restaurant and tell them to fix up some grub for a county prisoner. Bring it back here. Sure. Thanks, kid. Thanks a lot. Here's the food. Where shall I put it? Yeah, right here. No, wait a minute. Might as well take it right back to the cell. All right. Down the hall there. Don't be afraid of the prisoner. He can't hurt you. He ain't armed. I won't be afraid. Here's your dinner. Well, thanks. Guess I don't want any dinner. It's good food. I just had some of the same thing over at the restaurant. I don't feel... I'm not hungry. It'd probably poison me anyway. Anybody with luck as bad as mine couldn't get anything good. Luck runs against everybody some of the time. I'm being framed for a murder I never even heard about until they arrested me. Tell me about it. Maybe I can help. A kid like you. What have you got to lose? All right. I will tell you. Let's hurry back to camp, Tonto. I've got something to tell a lone ranger. Here, Victor. Steady, boy. You take food to prisoner? Yeah. And I'm sure he's not guilty of murder. Why do you say that? It's just a hunch. And I can't prove it. But maybe the lone ranger can. Come on, Victor. Get him off the scum. Are you sure this Sam Patch is telling the truth, Dan? Of course I don't know, but I... Where was he camped when the sheriff arrested him? Not far from here. Over in Cactus Creek. I see. Here's a little bit. Does where he was camp have anything to do with it? Steady, big fella. Quite a bit, Dan. If he's telling the truth, the whole story will be written on that campsite. Come on, Sandler. Get him off the scum. All right, Victor. Must be the place. Make camp here. How can you tell, Tonto? Well, ashes of fire leak near big rock. Only room for one man between rock and fire. Here. Look at these foot and hoof prints. Out of... ...sit by fire alone. Another man come ride horse. Gee, that must have been the one who took Sam's clothes and gun, huh? They both sat on the ground. Right here. Two horses come up. And three men ride two horses. Yep, that's just the way Sam told it to me. Ask Dan. I'm sure you were right in believing Sam Patch. Gee. Is there any way we can help him? We'll see, steady big fella. We'll do our best. Which way are we heading? First, we'll see Sam, and we'll check on the men who are so sure he's guilty. Come on, Silver. Get a victim out of the scum. Yeah? Who was that boy who brought me my dinner? I don't know. Just a kid. Never saw him before. Will he be around here again? No. Neither will you after the sheriff turns you over to Judge Carson tomorrow. The judge believes in hanging murderers. Quick. I got it right. Mast. An outlaw. I'll get you. Keep quiet, Tonto. I'll get him. That's good. Now, Dan, lead the way to Sam Patch. 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. To continue our story, while Tonto held the struggling sheriff's deputy in a vice-like grip, the Lone Ranger and Dan walked quickly to the cell where Sam Patch was imprisoned. This is my friend, Sam. The one I told you about. I heard you up there talking to the deputy in. What? Well, you're wearing a mask. Now, there isn't much time, Sam. I want to ask you a few questions. I guess I don't know much, because I can't help myself. Now, this man who held you up took your clothes and gun. What did he look like? Well, it was dark. I couldn't see very well. And he had a bandana over his face. He was kind of tall. Was there anything about his appearance you would recognize if you saw him again? Nothing. Except the way he walked after he put on my shoes. I guess they were too tight for him. What'd he say? Nothing that made any sense. Something that sounded like I'd rather be pushing stuff across the river than doing jobs like this. Pushing stuff across the river. I see. Does that mean anything to you? Maybe. Nothing that'll help me prove I didn't kill this Flint Bergman. It might. We'll see you later, Sam. Come on, Dan. Sure. Wait. Aren't you going to help me? All right, Tonto. We'll leave now. You got his gun? No, me got it. All right. Let him go. You're sneaking outlawed critters. We'll have a sheriff's posse on your trail before you're two miles out of town. I hope it's more successful than the last posse you sent out. We'll leave your gun outside. You... Come on, Dan, Tonto. You won't get away with this. An old masked outlaw can come in here and take my gun. When the sheriff gets back, we'll run you hombres down. The sheriff didn't return for some time. He was busy at the moment talking to a man he'd arranged to meet at a hiding place a few miles from town. Their conversation would have surprised most of the men who'd heard them speaking a few hours before in the Longhorn Cafe. Where have you been? I've been waiting hours for you. We had here as quick as I could, Brady. How's everything working out? Just like we figured. This hombre I picked up will swing for murder when I turned him over to the judge. How much does he know? Nothing. You sure of that? Dead sure. How could he know anything? All he knows is he's arrested for murder. And he was still camped right where Lon Walder said he was, huh? Me and my deputy found him right on the spot. I guess there can't be any hitch. He'll have to face some questions, and as long as he just denies he did it, the judge will figure he's lying. That was a pretty good argument you and me put on in the cafe. Sure fool everybody. Yeah. It kind of surprised me, though. I wasn't expecting you to... Workman had to die. He was yellow enough to squeal, and sooner or later somebody else in the patrol might have questioned him. That was a kind of fancy job of shooting. Did Lon Walder's do it? Lon does all the killings. He's got a man about this one. What's the matter? Well, he changed clothes with that hombre just to be on the safe side. Now that it's over, he's got some other clothes, but he can't find any shoes that'll fit him. Boots he took off the kid are too small. I bet Lon's fit to be tied. Tight boots ain't no fun. All right, listen. Some more liquor coming across the border next week. Yeah? It may be held up a few days until this thing blows over. Oh, shucks. This won't cause any trouble. We'll hang some parts for mudder. That'll be the end of it. Well, it's best to lay low for a while. Some U.S. marshal or ranger might come into town. We've got plenty of time. Yeah, I reckon so. In the meantime, you'll rush through the hanging and keep any of our smuggled liquor from being sold in any of the cafes. I'll see to that. Anything else? No. Just to make it look better, I may drop around to your jail in the morning and ask the prisoner a few questions. You won't interfere with county law, will you, Steve? Border Patrol always cooperates with the local sheriff. They certainly do. Some of the best cooperating that's ever been done. In the shadows of a small clump of cottonwoods not far from town, the Lone Ranger removed his mask and, with Ponto's help, disguised his face. Then he explained a plan to the Indian and Dan Reed. This may not work, but it's worth trying. Get my extra pair of boots out of the saddlebag, will you, Dan? Sure. What you do, Kim, somebody? Generally, when a criminal steals clothes, it's to avoid being recognized. That's right. Yeah. Here are the boots. Thanks, Dan. Sure, Talo and I wait here for you? Yes. If I pick up a trail, we may have to move fast. Come on, Silver. What you drinking, cowboy? Nothing. I came in here because I thought I might be able to sell something. Peddler, huh? No, I've just got an extra pair of boots I'd like to sell cheap. Oh, a busted cowpoke that wants to sell his boots. All right, puncher. I'll help you out. Hey! Anybody in here want to buy a used pair of coffee bills? They're a large size. He says they're too big for him. Any of you big-footed gents need some new leather? I guess you're out of luck, stranger. No customers. Well, thanks for your help. Are you the gent that's getting boots for sale? Yes, I am. Hey, let me see it. Right here. And they're made of good leather. Oh, they're big enough. That's all that interests me. My feet are killing me. Why not try them on? Yeah, yeah. Just give me one. All right. Say, this one feels great. Fine. How much? Five dollars too much. Cowboy, you made a deal. It's worth any money to get my feet out of these tight ones. Here's your five dollars. Thanks. Oh, uh, how do you happen to be wearing such tight boots? Well, I made a trade with a fella today, and I... What do you care? Just curious, that's all. How come you're selling these? It's so cheap. I want to get down to the border. I hear you can make some easy money there. If you don't mind pushing stuff across, and the law's not looking. Who told you that? I don't know. I thought I'd talk to Flint Berkman about it. But I hear he had a little accident. Yeah, yeah, he did. Well, I guess Brady must do. Oh, who's Brady? Well, listen, Puncher. If you want to get in the kind of job you're talking about, you'll have to see Steve Brady. He's in the border patrol. I see. Now, I'm only telling you this because you've done me a favor by selling me these boots a cheap. It's all right. Matter of fact, I think Brady's in town right now. He and the sheriff work pretty close together. The sheriff, too? Now, I think I understand. What's that? Oh, nothing. Hey, where you going? I'll buy a drink. No, no, thanks. Well, ain't I going to see you again? You probably will. Yes, Dan. I sold them for some very valuable information. About Sam Patch? He's being framed. I know that. I know who killed Flint Berkman. It's all part of a gang of liquor smugglers. Golly. Otto. Huh? Ride to the county seat as quickly as possible and bring back the United States Marshal. I'll take off this disguise. Huh? Me do it. Here, scouts. Dan, you come with me. We'll have to work fast. Sure. Steady, Victor. Where me bring the marshal? To the sheriff's office. Dan and I will be waiting there. Huh? Get him up, scouts. Come on, Silver. Get up, Victor. A short time later, the Lone Ranger put his plan into operation. Although it was late at night, the door of the sheriff's home echoed with a loud knock. What in tarnation do you mean, waking people up in the middle of the night? You're the sheriff, aren't you? Hand the sheriff, but that don't be... Who are you? What do you want? I worked for your deputy today. Carried some food from the restaurant. Now, listen, kid. I don't care what you did for my deputy. I thought maybe I was still working for him. You know, running errands and things like that. What do you mean? Well, there's a tall man in town. He's looking for you and Mr. Brady. Tall man? Looking for Brady and me? Who is he? He looks big enough to be the captain of the border patrol or something like that. Captain of the border patrol? Are you sure of that? No, I'm not sure. But he's down at the jail now, waiting for you. He is, huh? Well, thanks, kid. Thanks for letting me know. Ah, gee. Then you really let me run errands for you? Sure, sure. Don't bother me now. Some other time. Captain of the patrol is in town. Both Brady and me had better say that he doesn't get too nosy. I'll get Steve before I get down there. Sure. Captain of the border patrol here in town. Waiting for us to end in my office. That's what the kid said. We've got to keep him from asking too many questions. Come on. Is your name Lon Walters? Yeah, what up? Sometimes I run errands for the sheriff. You and Mr. Brady are over at the sheriff's office. I think they want to see you. They sent you to get me? Not exactly. From the way the sheriff talked, I thought maybe they owed you something. They do. I'll go over there right away. It was open a little bit, Marshal. I'm sure that if we wait right here, we'll be able to see and hear everything. That's a good idea. Well, here comes two of them now. Oh. The captain. The captain of the border patrol. Ain't he waiting here for us? I don't know what you're talking about. There's nobody here but me and that prisoner back there in the cell. That's funny. The kid said that I... Wait a minute. Who was that kid? I don't know. We've got to be careful. Any kind of a slip up with the tires into that... Evening, chants. Lon, what are you doing here? I thought I told you to lay low. Didn't you send for me? No. That kid came over to Longhorn Cafe and... That kid again? From what he said, I figured you had some money for me. Pay off for the job I did on Berkman. Shut up. What do you mean, shut up? If you think you're going to get out of paying for that killing, you're mistaken. I said shut up. If you welch on that, there's a few things I could tell the Border Patrol about liquor smuggling across the Rio Grande. You dumb hombry elf. No, you won't, Steve. Keep that gun and leather. Mask. It's the same curtain that... No, I'd like him to kill me. Quiet. We'll do the talking. You'll have to send all four of these hombres to prison for life. Reach, all of you. I think you can borrow the deputy's keys and let Sam Patch out of jail. Yeah, sure. What's all this? It means you're free, Sam. You mean... The United States Marshal has found the men responsible for Flint Berkman's murder. You mean I can leave if I want to? Sure you can. I... Oh, gosh, I don't know what to say. Just don't say anything. It isn't necessary. You'll handle everything, won't you, Marshal? I'll take care of these varmints, if that's what you mean. Good. Come along, Dan. Oh, wait. One more thing. Here's your five dollars, Lon. I'll take back my boots. What do you mean? Do what he says. You won't have no need for riding boots where you're going. Take them off. Oh, I am. It's one. Yeah? It's the other. Thanks. Adios, Marshal. Is that the critter who sold me them boots? Who is he? He's too smart for a gang of crooks like the four of you. He's the Lone Ranger. The one you have just heard is a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated.
