A fiery horse with the speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty high of silver, the Lone Ranger. His 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 and the thundering hoofbeats of the great horse, Silver, the Lone Ranger rides again. Come on, Silver! Let's go, big fellow! I'm Silver! It was almost midnight when the iron gates of territorial prison clanged shut. For the first time in five years, two men stood outside the walls. Johnny Starbuck, young and redheaded, took a deep breath of the cool night air. Even the air is sweeter when those stone walls are behind you. Johnny's companion was a much older man, tall, slightly stooped, with a thin fringe of hair around an otherwise bald head. It was this feature that earned Monk Gleason his nickname. Yeah, we're lucky. No sign of rain. Sure seems good to be out. Doesn't it, Monk? Only thing good about it is a chance to make up for lost time. Yeah. I guess my little silver claim over in the Rincon Hills has gone to pot by now. Yeah, forget it. We'll head east. I got friends in Abilene. We'll each have a brace of guns and a good horse under us inside of two days. No thanks, Monk. What do you mean? I'm not going your way. Figure I'm playing a lone hand, huh? Till I get everything going again. Then maybe I can buy some equipment, branch out. What the hell are you talking about? My silver claim. The only thing I own. You mean you're going back to scratching dirt in the Rincon's? Don't you want to get even? Sure I do. But I've done a lot of thinking during the five years we've been in here, Monk. The only way I or anyone else can stay even is to play the card straight. Yeah, you're loco. Maybe. Or maybe I was loco when I joined your gang and tried to deal from the bottom of the deck. Anyway, it's all over. From here on out, I'm going straight. Well, suit yourself, kid. There's no skin off of my nose. No hard feelings, Monk? No. What do I care? Well, so long, Johnny. So long, Monk. Two years passed. Johnny Starbuck worked industriously mining his one-man silver claim. It wasn't easy work. But he had the satisfaction of earning an honest living. That knowledge helped. Especially when he visited the nearby town of Melville. Set him up, bartender. Yeah. Come on over, boys. The drinks are on me. Ah, well. Getting so they horn in every place. Even here, the best saloon in town. What's that, Pruitt? I'm talking about jailbirds. Meaning me? Don't see any other ones around here. All right. So I have been in jail. I made a mistake and I paid for it. So did Monk Gleason. Sheriff Lang got word this morning he's out on the prowl again. That hasn't anything to do with me. I haven't seen Monk for two years. Maybe. All I've done is work hard in what I thought was my hometown. Among friends. That's the biggest mistake I made. You can't change the color of a skunk. Maybe not. But I can change the shape of your face, you dirty old. You see that? Not less poor color in the mackerel. Hey, Johnny. Yeah? Glenn, the haymaker on the deputy sheriff's jaw ain't gonna make you any more popular around here. He asked for it. You heard what he said. Sure, sure. But if I were you, I'd skin out of that side door before Pruitt comes to and start yelling for blood. But I haven't... Save yourself a lot of trouble. Yeah. I guess you're right. But how long do I have to go on like this? Fighting for a chance to be decent and honest. Meanwhile, the cashier and the customers of a small bank several miles east of Melville were startled by a sharp command. So hold up, folks. Heist them. Get them high. You do what you're told, nobody will get hurt. Now you, back of that monkey cage. I want all the hard cash you got, understand? Yes, sir. It didn't bring any sacks, so I'll use my hat. There, push it into that. I'm gonna hurry up. Well, I... Here, this is all the gold that I have. Give it to me. Now listen, all of you. My bronc's waiting at the hitch rack outside. If anybody makes a move or a sound before I get out... I'm gonna... Oh! They killed the cashier. Shot him down in cold blood. Who was it? Anybody know? Sure. Only one outlaw with a bald head like that was Monk Gleason. Yeah, Monk Gleason. Less than an hour after the bank robbery, Tonto reined up sharply at the Lone Ranger's camp. Oh, who's the gun? Oh, son. Oh, son. Tonto, you've been riding hard. What's wrong? Me in town. See outlaw hold up bank. Kill bank, fella. What's that? A bank hold up? Ah. And you saw the man who did it? Ah. Him tall, fella. Wear bandana over face. Not wear hat. Looked like him scalped. You mean he was bald-headed? Ah. Me hear people call him Monk Gleason. Monk Gleason. Heard of him. I thought he was still in prison. Well, I suppose he got away. Which direction did he head, Tonto? Him ride west, plenty fast. To Rincon Mountains. Ah. Here, Silver. We trail him. The Rincon's are mostly shale and lava rock. It'll be hard to cut his sign. We'll try. Steady, big fella. Monk Silver. Get him up. Scout. It was late the following afternoon when Johnny Starbuck made a sudden decision. He left his silver claim and rode into the town of Melville, where he racked his horse in front of the cattleman's bank. Oh, oh boy. Steady. I want to see Mr. Harding. Just a minute, now. Never mind. I know where his office is. Johnny Starbuck. How are you? Not so good, Mr. Harding. What's wrong? Sit down, Johnny. Sit down. When I got out of prison two years ago and came back home, you were the only person who spoke to me. You're still the only one. You even loaned me a little money so I could buy some tools and get my claim started. But you paid that back long ago. Sure. I've worked hard trying to prove that I'm just as honest and decent as anybody else. What are you trying to say, Johnny? That I'm through. I'm giving up. There's no use bucking a whole town. I don't understand. Try living by yourself for two years and see how it feels. And whenever I come to town, everybody shies away from me like I had smallpox or something. It can't be that bad. Yes, it is. He'll never let me forget I was once tied up with Monk Gleason. Every cow puncher or miner for miles around will ride ten miles out of his way to keep from coming near my claim up at Boxwood Canyon. I'm poisoned to everybody. Yes, I've heard about them avoiding your claim. And I could tell them plenty of things they'd like to know, too. What do you mean? Where some of the cattle goes. It's been rustled off the valley ranches for the past year. Oh. Do you know? Sure. Most of it's grazing up at the other end of Boxwood. If the sheriff or any of his deputies ever came to my shack, they could see it. Well, why don't you tell them? Oh. It's none of my business. They'd probably blame me for stealing it. No, I've had enough of the poison treatment. I think I'll head north or maybe west. You sell my claim for me, Mr. Harding, or rant at somebody. I don't care which. Now, wait a minute, Johnny. I'm afraid you've been a little too sensitive about things. You'd be sensitive, too, if somebody threw Monk Gleason's name in your face every time you turned around. Yes, I suppose I would. Oh, by the way, speaking of Monk Gleason, I hear he's operating in this territory again. Held up a bank east of here yesterday. Killed a cashier. Yeah? Then it's a good thing I've decided to leave town. Sheriff Langer as Deputy Les Pruitt would blame that job on me. Well, I guess I'll be... Oh, good, Johnny. You said I'd been a friend of yours. I want you to do something for me. Sure. If I can. Don't leave town for a few days. Maybe things will change. Don't see how they could. Working your mind for a little while longer won't hurt. Do it as a favor to me. Well, all right. But I'll be back before the week is out. Oh, maybe not, Johnny. Who knows? What the... Oh, oh, boy. It was just a little warning. I reached, stranger. Get him up. I'll show you. And not for that gun you're packing. Monk! Well, I'll be... If I ain't my old prison partner. Monk, what are you doing up here? I'm on my way to a hideout. The horse went lame and I had to shoot him. Well, that's why I need the caillus you're riding. You can't have my... Hit the dirt. But I... This canyon trail is still quite a waste of my mind. Listen, kid. I'm in a hurry. And I ain't interested in where you live. Now, light down. All right. And just to be on the safe side, I think you'd better reach down and lift that smoke pole out of your holster. I wouldn't shoot you. You won't get the chance. I lift it by the butt and with two fingers. Throw it over the cliff into the river. Anything you say. I suppose you were too weak to throw it over the cliff like I told you. Threw it as far as I could. Well, it's out of your reach anyhow. Now walk around to the off side of your bronc. I'm gonna mount him. Maybe that won't be as easy as... Will you double-cross a little? Don't reach for that gun or I'll plug you. I'll take the chance. Watch out, Monk. If you back up any further, you'll go over the cliff. Don't tell me what to... By some miracle, none of the bullets from Monk Gleason's gun had found their mark. And now Johnny Starbuck, tense and shaken by his brush with death, peered over the cliff and scanned the riverbank below. He could see the crumpled body of Monk lying by the water's edge. There was no doubt that the outlaw was dead. But suppose Monk hadn't been alone. There might be a gang somewhere in the vicinity. Johnny moved cautiously down the trail. Those shots came from somewhere on that upper trail, Tonto. Ah. You think maybe... I don't know what to think. May have no connection with the man we're trailing. Get your hands up. Both of you. Over there, Tonto. I said get him up. They're perfect targets for this campfire behind us. Don't move. That's good advice. If you reach for a gun, you're asking for the same thing Monk got. 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. Silhouetted by the light of the campfire, the Lone Ranger and Tonto knew they were in a dangerous position. Although the masked man's hands were raised, he played for time. All right. Our hands are up. Now what do you want? Just keep them that way till I... Masked. Part of Monk's gang, just like I figured. Monk Gleason? Who else? See you around here. Monk's dead. I just killed him. It was an accident, but... Is that so? Hey, I don't like the way you're edging away from that redskin. Tonto! It isn't hard to trip someone who's trying to hold a gun on two people at the same time. Give me his gun, Tonto. There. There, gun. All right. Go on, plug me. Why? You're part of Monk's gang, aren't you? I just got through telling you that I killed... It happened that we were trailing Monk Gleason. But if you're outlaws, that don't make sense. Suppose, uh... Suppose you tell me your side of the story. What? All right. I guess I've got nothing to lose. I'm sure you haven't. Now, tell me what happened. Because the strange masked man, who looked like an outlaw but didn't act like one, seemed genuinely interested, Johnny Starbuck told the story of his life. He related all the events in detail. And when he'd finished, the Lone Ranger asked some pointed questions. You're sure Monk Gleason is dead? He has to be. It's a 60-foot drop from the top of that cliff to the river down here. Johnny, are you sure you're the only man in Melville who knows there's a herd of stolen cattle grazing in Boxwood Canyon? No, I'm not sure. But what difference does it make? That has nothing to do with the trouble I'm in now. What do you mean? Ten to one, there's a posse looking for Monk. If I tell the law where he is, he'll think I was tied in with him. The same thing they've been saying for two years. I understand how you feel, Johnny. There's only one thing you can do to clear yourself. What's that? Go back to the upper trail, find your horse, and ride into Melville and tell Sheriff Lange everything that happened. Oh, you won't believe me. You don't understand how suspicious everybody in Melville is about me. If you'll do what I suggest, I'll do everything I can to help you. How? I don't know, Johnny. But when you tell the story, be sure everybody in town hears about it. That's important. All right. Maybe I'm loco to believe what you say. But I'll do it. Good. Monk kept on backing away from me. Next thing I knew, he backed over the cliff. It's the truth, Sheriff. Sounds kind of fishy to me. Where'd you say all this happened? Up on the river trail, about a quarter mile this side of my place. Ah, he's lying, Sheriff. I'll bet Monk Gleeson ain't within 100 miles of here, dead or alive. Why, you... Hold it, you two. If Gleeson is around here, I want to know it. I'll round up a posse and check on your story. Pass the word around, Les, we'll leave from the livers' table in about a now. I'll tell him. I'll go with you. You, Johnny Starbuck, stay right with me until I find out the truth. At least this is one way to get you hombres to talk to me. Johnny. Hello, Mr. Knight. Johnny, what's this I hear about you killing Monk Gleeson? Well, I didn't exactly kill him. It was an accident. But he's lying near the creek at the bottom of a cliff on the river trail. Are you sure, Johnny? I don't blame you for not believing me, Mr. Harding. Nobody else does. We'll know soon enough. Taking a posse up there. Good. How soon, Sheriff? About an hour. Soon as Les rounds up a few gents with good saddle horses. You want a ride with us? Oh, no thanks, Sheriff. I have some work to do at the bank. I'll see you all later. There goes the only real friend I've got in this town. You'll have less than that if this tale you're telling ain't true. Come on with me. Monk Gleeson's body, all right, Tonto. Exactly where Johnny said it fell. Ah. And what we do now, Kimasabi? We'll wait right here, that underbrush at the base of the cliff. If Johnny did what I told him to do, there ought to... Somebody come. You hear him? Come on, let's get out of sight. Ah. Who do you think? Quiet, Tonto. You may not see. Sky plenty dark. Luck's against us. Clouds across the moon. I think I know who that man is, but I'd like to be sure. Kimasabi. Him throw dead men in river. And he's probably awaited the body with rocks. We catch him? No, this wouldn't prove anything. I wish I could see his face. All right, come on. Why'd fella try to hide Bobby or Valko? I don't know for sure, Tonto. But we will before the night's over. Is this the place, Johnny? Yeah. Monk Gleeson's body is right over... What's the matter? It isn't here. It's gone. The whole jailbird's stolen, Sheriff. No. No, you've got to believe me. I shot at Monk up there, and he fell right over this cliff. I saw him. Please, Sheriff. Let's search both sides of the creek. I know we'll find Mike's body someplace along here. How about the money from the bank robbery? I don't know anything about it. You must have it on him. Please, Sheriff. Well, I guess we can't overlook any bets. Plenty of moonlight so we can see well enough. Lest you take half the posse and work downstream on this side, the rest of us will go the other way. Anything you say, Sheriff. Come on, boy. Johnny, you stay right alongside of me. Steady. Let me see. All right, men. Spread out. Come on. Get out. For three long hours, the sheriff's posse searched both sides of the river and found no sign of the dead outlaw. Johnny Starbuck was puzzled and heart-sick. He realized only too well that failure meant either prison or the lynch rope. He remembered the mysterious masked man who promised to help him. Evidently, that was false, too, just like everything else. Suddenly, the sheriff called a hawk. Bring it up, boys. Oh, Johnny, we've spent three hours and haven't found a thing. Got any answer for that? I can't understand it. Honest, I can't. I can. Let's string up this lying varmint and go home. No. No, there won't be any lynching. Wait a minute. There's somebody coming. Oh, oh, oh, oh. He's parting from the bank and half people from town. Sheriff. Sheriff, thank heaven we found you. What's the trouble? Less than an hour ago, Monk Gleason held up the bank. Gleason? So that's what happened while Johnny Starbuck has been leading us on a wild goose chase. I was working at my desk alone. This bald-headed outlaw walked in and forced me to give him all the money in the safe. Then he went out the side door right onto the main street. I shot at him. That's right, Sheriff. Me and a dozen other people heard the shots. We saw Monk Gleason duck around the bank and into the alley. You're sure it was Monk Gleason? I'm positive. I've seen his picture in your office. He's a gent about the size of Mr. Harding. Only he's bald-headed. That's right. Well, Johnny Starbuck, looks like you've played out your strain. No, there must be some mistake. Monk stayed up, Sheriff. Look at what's coming this way. Two riders. Johnny, grab my arm. Get ready to jump. I'm ready. Puff him, coach. He's got John Starbuck lifting him right out of the saddle. Use the gun, Tonto. Cover us. Drill those spinners. Flash them down. Two guys can't see enough. Dig your spurs, boys. Come on. Get up. Oh, horses. Oh, horses. Keep up. This is my shack. What are you stopping here? Steady. Don't ask questions. Let's get inside. Take the horses behind that hill, Tonto. Come, Silver. I don't understand. We're out number 20 to one. They'll riddle the shack. Hurry, man. These walls aren't thick enough. There won't be any gunfire. They'll do exactly as I say. We know you're in there, Johnny. Better come out and save a lot of shooting. Tell him you don't want to fight. They'll come in and get you. But, all right. I give up, Sheriff. Come on in. Don't trickster out there. You're covered. So is that mass formant, if he's in there with you. I know. All we want to do is talk to you and Mr. Harding for a minute. Be careful, Sheriff. Don't worry. Someone get a light going. There's a lantern over there. I'll get it. The rest of you men stay back there and keep your guns handy. All right, Sheriff. Hello, Sheriff. Here's your light. What? By Juniper, you are wearing a mask. That's right. You outlaw critters got a lot of nerve sitting here. It's certainly a disappointment to me. I trusted you, Johnny. But, Mr. Harding, I didn't... What you really mean, Harding, is that he trusted you. What? Another outlaw like Monk Gleason... Monk Gleason didn't rob the Melville Bank tonight, and you know it. Gleason's dead. But I... I mean, I saw him. So did a dozen other people. What's all this palaver? Something you'll be interested to know. Come over here, Sheriff. Look out this back window. What do you mean? There's enough moonlight for you to see almost the entire length of Boxwood Canyon. All right, go on, look. Yeah, well, it seems to me there's a sizable herd of beef grazing down there. What's that got to do with that? You'll find that it's all stolen stock. Rustled from ranches here in the valley during the past year. Do your duty, Sheriff. Arrest these two... Oh, wait a minute. The man who's behind the cattle stealing is the same man who pretended to rob the bank tonight. Same man who has encouraged Johnny Starbuck to live up here for the past two years. Because he knew as long as people dislike Johnny, they stay away from here. I won't allow it. But they discovered that Johnny knew about the stolen cattle. So he masqueraded as Monk Gleason to prove Johnny a liar. Oh, this is ridiculous. A bald-headed man robbed the bank. I don't know how you did that. I'll bet the answer's in your pocket and I'm going to find out. I'll drill you before you can do it. But this time, Mr. Harding, you're not hurt. It gives me a chance to find out. Say, what insunderation is this? A stocking cap. I thought it might be something like this. Stocking cap? What does it mean? If it's tight enough on Mr. Harding's head, so that at a distance you might think it looked like Monk Gleason's bald head. Well, I'll be... You see what I mean, Sheriff? Yeah, figure do. This shenanigan begins to make sense. Good. I'll turn him over to you. Adios. Wait, I want... He's gone. Johnny, I sure owe you an apology. No, you don't. I was fooled just as much as you were. Come on, Harding. I'm going to tell the warden at Territorial Prison to give you the same cell Johnny Starbuck had. Yeah, but it hadn't been for that mask. Who was he, Johnny? Your friend, the gent with the mask. I don't know for sure, because he didn't tell me. But I'll lay eight to five if he's the Lone Ranger. I am Sylvie Hall! The story you have just heard is a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated. The Lone Ranger Incorporated
