with the speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty how silver, the Lone Ranger. With his faithful Indian companion Tonto, the mask 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. Are you, Silver? All right. Dale Kirby, star reporter for the aggressive and dynamic Chicago Globe, had recently returned from an assignment in Europe. His editor, Mr. Lawson, was particularly interested in one fact which the reporter disclosed about his trip. Kirby, do you mean to tell me that this legend about a Lone Ranger has spread to Europe? It certainly has, Mr. Lawson. I was surprised myself. In fact, I lost prestige with a lot of kids over there when I admitted I didn't know him. You know, I haven't paid much heed to the stories that have come out of the West concerning this fantastic Robin Hood. The newspapers in London print anything they can get on the Lone Ranger. You see, Mr. Lawson, there are many Englishmen in the West. They write letters home about the exploits of this masked rider. The papers print every one they can lay their hands on. Kirby, my editorial judgment has been rather short. I've got an idea. Yes? I doubt if there's any such person as a Lone Ranger. I think he exists only in the imagination of these adventurous Westerners. However, people are interested in him. Tremendously so. That's correct. Then, on that basis, it is my duty as publisher and an editor to inform the public about the truth of this matter. Kirby, you're going west tonight. But I just got back from Europe. I need a vacation. That's why I'm sending you west. What better vacation could you wish? Do you know anyone in the West, Kirby? Well, I interviewed Pat Garrett when he was in Chicago two years ago. Pat Garrett. The famous sheriff from New Mexico territory? Yes, you remember. He killed Billy the Kid. Oh, I remember now. And that reminds me. Of what? There was a rumor at the time that the Lone Ranger saved Pat Garrett's life when the gunfight with Billy the Kid started. Then Pat Garrett would be a good man for you to see. I'll send him a wire right away that I'm coming. But I won't tell him what for. Good. Now, Kirby, what I want is this. We'll not take anybody's word that there is a Lone Ranger, not even Pat Garrett's word. You must actually see this masked man yourself. Understand? I understand. The globe doesn't print hearsay. It prints facts. Now, Kirby, it's up to you to get the facts on the Lone Ranger. I'll do my best. Pat Garrett had an enviable reputation as a lawman throughout the Southwest. It was a reputation that had not been built on luck but on his shrewdness that matched the evil cunning of the men he hunted down. When he learned that the Cherokee kid had shot his way out of prison with the avowed intention of killing him, the famous lawman made plans accordingly. Now, deputies, I want you to spread the word around Santa Fe that I've gone down to Alamogordo looking for Cherokee. What you going down there for? You won't hide down there, Sheriff. Of course he won't. He's coming here to Santa Fe as quick as he can get here. Now, I'm staying here. Only I want the word spread around that I've gone to Alamogordo. I don't get the idea. I want the Cherokee kid to have to look for me. He'll know I'm not in Alamogordo. He's as slick as they make him. I want him to think he's outguessed me. And if I can get him to thinking that, I'll get the Cherokee kid. He's smart, all right. He'd have to be to get away with the things he does. I'm depending on that very thing to trip him. Yeah? When the kid gets in Santa Fe and hears that I've gone to Alamogordo, he'll know I'm trying to lay a trap for him. So knowing the Cherokee kid, I know what he'll do. He'll pull some kind of a stunt that'll bring your deputies running. Then when you head out to tell me about him being in town, he'll be following you. And that's where the Cherokee kid is going to make his big mistake. Where are you going, Sheriff? Going to hide out for a few days on top of that hill at the south edge of town. It's got good scrub timber cover. From that point, I can see you coming. And I can see him. Only you ride by. And I'll take care of the Cherokee kid myself. Savvy? You got him figured right down to a fine point, Sheriff. By the way, I got a wire from a newspaper reporter named Kirby. Dale Kirby of Chicago. Said he was coming down here to see me. He must want a story of some kind. He's due in today. What do you want us to tell him if you're not going to be here? You bring him out to where I am. He'll want to be in on this big story that's breaking. Well, he'll get all of it if he's with me when the shooting starts. Well, you can see us coming in the daytime, Sheriff. But how about at night? If you're coming out with him at night, just stick a lantern in the cupola of the jail. I'll know what it means and won't draw down on you. We'll take care of him, Sheriff. The Lone Ranger and his Indian companion had crossed the Arkansas and were headed south toward Texas when they learned that the Cherokee kid was out and gunning for Pat Garrett. Cherokee kid is a bad man, Tonto. Bad man with a very smart one as well. Ah, him heap like fox. Kid has a trait that makes him doubly dangerous. That trait may cost lives before he's captured or shot down. See, Kemosabe, he's a bragger to show off. He likes to do spectacular things when he knows the laws after him. Him strut like rooster. That's right. He'll probably take his time about meeting up with Pat Garrett. In the meantime, he'll strut his defiance before he moves in for the kill. And that when him hurts somebody. He usually does. I don't worry about Pat Garrett. He can take care of himself. But I'd hate to see some innocent person kill while this man stalking game goes on between Garrett and the kid. And what we do, Kemosabe? We're only a short distance from Santa Fe. That's Garrett's headquarters. We're right for there. Ah. Here, Silver. Come, Scout. See the big fella. Come on, Silver. Get him up, Scout. It was after midnight in the Spanish town of Santa Fe and its streets were almost deserted. The lone telegraph operator listened with little interest as he heard a horseman ride noisily up to the hitch rail outside. Good evening, sir. Hey. I want to send a telegram. Well, here's a pad of paper. You got a pencil? Yeah. Let me have yours. Here's one. Yeah, sit down over here at the table. Canter rates are good standing up. Sure, go right ahead. Shall I turn up the lamp a bit, sir? No, it hurts my eyes. Well, good evening, sir. Good evening. I'd like to send a telegram. Well, here's a pad of paper. You got a pencil? Yes, thanks. James Lawson, Chicago Globe, Chicago. Garrett, hunting, Cherokee kid, riding to contact L.R. Later. Sign, Dale Kirby. There you are. You sent it press rate, collect? Press rate? Yes, sir. Let me see how many words. James Lawson, Chicago Globe, Chicago. Garrett, hunting, Cherokee kid. I'm riding to contact L.R. later. Sign, Dale Kirby. You mean you're Dale Kirby, the famous newspaper man? Well, I'm Dale Kirby. Well, well, this is indeed a pleasure. You arrived in Santa Fe just in time. Why, we're having the biggest manhunting years, Mr. Kirby. Yes, so I understand. I hope to get in on it. I came here to see Pat Garrett and heard he was out looking for the Cherokee kid. So I thought, here's a big story I hadn't counted on. And you're joining the sheriff's posse? Of course, I'm going along only as a reporter. I'm not even armed. I'm after a story, not a bad man. Oh, you're after a story, huh, Sonny? Yes, and this looks like a good one. The whole country must be watching this manhunt. The exploits of the Cherokee kid are widely known. Well, I don't know much about newspapers, Sonny, but I'd like to ask you a question. Question? Certainly, sir. If you had your choice, Sonny, which would you rather be doing? Riding with Pat Garrett and his posse or riding and talking to the Cherokee kid? Huh? Well, from a viewpoint of news interest, naturally, I'd like nothing better than to get an interview with a Cherokee kid before Pat Garrett kills him. That'd be a real scoop. It would, huh? Here, Sparks. Can you get this telegram off right away? Let me count the words. Send it collect, too. What's the matter? Something wrong? You better read that telegram. Read it and keep your hands on top of the counter. I'm gone. He knows what it is, Sonny. You don't have to tell him. To Sheriff Pat Garrett, Alamo Guard in New Mexico. I came all the way to Santa Fe to kill you. Why don't you stay home? Sign, Cherokee Kid. You, you're the Cherokee Kid? You're right. Now, Sonny, you better tear up that telegram you wrote and send a new one. You can tell your boss you're riding with a Cherokee kid. And we're hunting Pat Garrett. You mean you're taking me with you? That's right. Just as soon as you write that telegram the way I told you, and we take care of Sparks. What a story. What a story. The Lone Ranger and Tonto also rode into the deserted streets of Santa Fe under the cloak of darkness. The mask rider sent his Indian companion to the jail to make inquiries of Pat Garrett. As Tonto left the jail, one of his deputies showed interest in his visit. What'd that Indian want? He was asking about the sheriff. Wanted to know where he is. What'd you tell him? Seems he'd been telling everybody else. Garrett's gone to Alamogoda. Did you tell that newspaper man that too? No, I didn't tell him nothing. I said I'd take him to where Pat Garrett is. Say, he ought to be back here by now. Where'd he go? To rent a horse and send a telegram to his paper. You waiting to take him to Pat? Yeah. Maybe I'll ride over to the telegraph office and pick him up there. How about that land in the cupola? You put it up there, would you? Oh, sure, sure. Go ahead. I'll do it. Keep an eye peeled for that engine that was just in here. Can't tell. He might be a friend of the Cherokee kid. I'll run him out of town. Oh, scouts. Oh, fella. Oh, fella. What did you find out, Tonto? Man of jail, I. Is that so? Ah. Him say Pat Garrett and Alamagorda. Him look for Cherokee kid there. Alamagorda? As it's the southern end of the territory. Me know. Me make like to leave jail, but me stay by door and hear deputies talk. Tonto learn Pat Garrett not far off now. And the sheriff is trying to spring a trap on the Cherokee kid. I'd certainly like to talk to Garrett. We only knew how to reach him. Me know how to find him. You do? Tonto hear man say him take other fella to where Pat Garrett is. Him going to meet man in the telegraph office. The man who wants to see Garrett is at the telegraph office now? Ah. Deputy sheriff go meet him there. Then go see Pat Garrett. We follow him, huh? Yes. We ride to the telegraph office. When they leave, we'll be on their trail. That's good. Come on, Silver. Get them out of the scout. Easy. Easy, Tonto. Ready a minute a little. Oh, Silver. Steady. Oh, fella. Oh, fella. Oh, fella. No sign of anybody around the place now. Maybe Deputy Meatfeller. Go before we get here, Kimasabi. That's possible. Tonto, you go into the telegraph office and ask for the operator. He can tell you if the deputy met a man there. Ah. Let me go. I'll stay here with the horses. The operator won't suspect you. Go ahead, Silver. Nobody's riding this way. Oh, boy. He's stopping in front of the telegraph office. Better keep him covered. That might be the deputy sheriff. Kill something. Kill something. That man's drawn a gun on Tonto. Come in, Tonto. Come on, Silver. Come, scout. 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. When Tonto went into the telegraph office to make some inquiries, the masked rider of the planes waiting in the darkness saw Tonto run from the office shouting. At the same time, a man who'd just ridden up drew a gun on Tonto was disarmed when the Lone Ranger shot the gun out of his hand. Oh, Silver. Oh, boy. Easy. Come on, Tonto. You've got to get out of here. Easy, scout. Get him on scout. Blast inside. Come on, Silver. Oh, Silver. Oh, scound. Oh, fella. Easy. Oh, fella. Send him to the killer. Now tell me what happened, Tonto. Me go in office. Telegraphed from a Titan chair. Him been hit hard. Knocked unconscious. Ah. Him have papers in hand. Me take papers. Go call you. Then, ma'am, draw a gun on Tonto. Is that the deputy sheriff who drew the gun on you? Him same fellow Tonto see at jail. You'll think we robbed the telegraph office and you'll spread the alarm. You've got to be careful, Tonto. Oh, let me see those papers. Ah, here. Me hold match so you read. Good. Otto, a short one here. It's signed the Cherokee Kid. It's addressed to Pat Garrett and Alma Gorda. It means that the kid is right here in Santa Fe and that he's the one who tied and slugged the operator. Not bad. Better light another match, please. Ah. Good, that's better. This other one seems to be news. A news telegram to the Chicago paper. There's a writer who's with the Cherokee Kid and they're looking for Pat Garrett. Now I'm beginning to understand. Oh. Who write it, Kimo Sabe? This dispatch is written by one of the most famous reporters in the country. He's Dale Kirby of the Chicago Globe. He's daring enough to do anything. I'm not surprised at what he's done now. Only he doesn't realize the danger he's in. I may think Kirby big fool. I wouldn't be surprised if he's riding with a kid against his will. Just like the Cherokee Kid. Capture a famous reporter and take him along. Hell, as I told you, the kid's a show-off. He'd be very pleased with the publicity he'd get out of such an exploit. And what we do, Kimo Sabe? Our plan to follow this fellow Kirby and the deputy's been upset. Unless the telegraph operator regains consciousness, the deputies will think that you and I did the job. Ah, him hit hard. Him maybe die. It'd be dangerous to try to return these telegrams to the office. Even if we did, they might be overlooked. So we've got to find a way to get to Pat Garrett and let him know it's a Cherokee kid's in town. He's evidently captured his newspaper man. Tano, look in the direction of the jail. Not see jail in dark. You see light. That light is in the cupola of the jail. I was waiting for you outside the telegraph office. I saw it put there. Then the shooting started. Ah. What light mean, you think? It's undoubtedly a signal of some sort. That's a Spanish cupola. Any light placed in it could be seen from only two directions. That's right. Actually, it can be seen in only one direction from any great distance. There are buildings that would block it from being seen on one side. But toward the south, it could easily be seen from that high hill there. Ah, that's right. See it easy from hill. I'm positive it's a signal. I believe it's intended for Pat Garrett. If so, Pat Garrett is hiding out there. Not good. The sun will be rising soon, Tano. We'd better go there at once. Come on, Silver. Let's go. Meanwhile, the Cherokee kid was enjoying with great satisfaction his latest exploit as his prisoner was beginning to realize the seriousness of his own plight. You didn't have to slug that operator so hard. I'll bet you killed him. No, I don't think so. I heard his jawbone cave, that's all. He'll come to next week. Maybe. If I'd known I was getting into this way. Listen, Cherokee, why don't you go on down to Alamogordo by yourself? You joined up, Sonny. You're seeing it through. Anyway, Pat Garrett's not in Alamogordo. He's not? Why did you send a telegram to him there? Steady, boy. Because I'm a little smarter than Pat Garrett. You see, Sonny, when I hit town I nosed around a little. Everybody seemed to know that Garrett had gone to Alamogordo. Well, Pat Garrett ain't a man to tell other folks where he's going. And you think he put out the story to fool you into thinking you'd be safe for a while in Santa Fe? That's right. I sent that telegram to make him think I was falling for his trap. Only the mask gombering that engine kind of upset my plans. How? You see, Sonny, they've got to meet up with Pat Garrett to kill him. And I know where he is so I've got to follow somebody who does know where he is. Savvy? Well, logical reasoning. But how? I write the telegram to Pat Garrett and give it to the operator. And I slug the operator and you and me have to hide in the shadows outside. I know somebody's going to find both the telegram and the operator. That means the deputy sheriff will come over for a look-see. Then hightail it to Pat Garrett. And behind him would be me and you. Only the mask gombering mixed it up. Yes. The Indian had our telegrams in his hand when he ran out. Jumped on his horse and rode off. The deputy won't know anything about them. At least until the operator recovers. Yeah. And that fool deputy will think the engine and the mask man did the job. Why, he don't even suspect that I'm in town, doggone it. Easy, boy. Well, won't he go and tell Pat Garrett what happened? No, that small stuff robbing and slugging a telegraph operator. No. No deputy's going to contact Pat Garrett until they know for certain I'm in town. You can bet on that. Well, what are you going to do next? It'll soon be daylight. We'll have to get out of sight. There's a hill on the south side of town with some timber on it. We can hide out there today. It's high enough to see anybody no matter where they come from. What about tonight? I'll think I'll have something good by then. We better start for the hill before day busts all over the place. I'll be reasonable. I've got all the scoop I need. I don't want to be in on any killing. No? I heard you say you wanted to be in on it when Pat Garrett killed me. Yes, I did say that. But Pat Garrett's a lawman. Sonny, you can't back out now. If you were so anxious to see Pat Garrett gun me, you're going to get the chance to know how it feels to be on the other side of a gunfight. And I've been on the other side for a long time. Then you won't release me? No. You're riding for your big scoops, Sonny. Now get out there, boy. Get out there. For more than two hours, Sheriff Pat Garrett had watched the lantern burning in the cupola of the jail and wondered why his deputy and reporter Kirby didn't arrive. Just as dawn began to gray the distant horizon, he saw two figures riding up the hill. There must be them coming now. Can't see them real plain, though. Is that you, deputy? Who's there? I'll give you just two seconds to answer. Friends, Sheriff. Friends, huh? Well, get your hands up and ride in slow. I'll see whether you're friends or not. Recognize your voice, Sheriff, when you ask if one of us was your deputy. Yeah? Seems like I've heard that voice of yours, too. Stop your horses. The voice of we've only been before. What? Well, I'll be doggone. Garrett! Huh? Drop that gun! Why, you double-crossing... Drop it, Garrett! It's dropped. And I think I fell for a gag like this. Stranger, I saw you gun the deputy tonight when you and your engine part tried to stick up the telegraph office. But I didn't know you was gunning for Pat Garrett, too. You saw me wing the deputy? Yeah. Me and my newspaper friend here were hiding in the dark. Saw the whole thing. The engine went inside. You stayed outside and covered him until the deputy rode up. Well, guess you saw it all right. No question about it. For a back trailer, you ain't such a good shot, though. I could have killed that deputy with my eyes shut. You accidentally shot the gun out of his hand. Why didn't you side me? Ah, you masked sidewinder, shooting one of my deputies. Shut up, Garrett. I don't know who this masked hombre is, but it's evident he ain't on your side. I'll say he's not. I wish I'd shot him before you butted in, Cherokee. I could have died happy. Garrett, I brought along the fellow who wants to get your last statement. His name's Kirby. What? Newspaper fellow from Chicago. Kirby? Are you Dale Kirby? Yes, sir. I'm Kirby. I'm the Chicago... Well, what a setup this is. And you're riding with a Cherokee kid. Sheriff, I didn't have a hand in planning this. I didn't. I didn't. He made me. My sonny, you told me you'd get a much bigger scoop riding with me than you would with Garrett. Now, didn't you? How long do I have to stand here with my hands up, Cherokee? Just a minute there, stranger. You ain't on the sheriff's side, I reckon. But you may not be on my side either. After I finish off Pat Garrett, I'll inquire into who you are. Now, start backing off there, Garrett. Away from that big horse. Cherokee, you'll hang for this. It'll be worth it, Garrett. Now, start backing up. Oh! Oh! Oh, you're with Pat Garrett. And you're not hurt a bit, son. I'm with Pat Garrett? Pat Garrett? Where am I? You're right on the spot you fainted on when the shooting started. Fainted? Yes. Now I remember. Where's the Cherokee kid? Over there, handcuffed to a sapling. He's nursing a busted shooting hand right now. Yes, there he is. Where's the other bandit who shot him? Saw him kick you and start shooting and that's the last I remember. Him? Well, he's gone. Gone? You mean he got away? Oh, no. After he shot the Cherokee kid, he just rode off like he always does. And you didn't stop him? Why, you said you wished you'd shot him before Cherokee and I came up. Kirby, we was just stalling for time, that's all. I knew all the time the masked man was on my side just waiting to get his guns. When he kicked me, he got him. Well, who is he? You just listen. Quiet now. Why, that's the Lone Ranger. Oh. Well, he's doggone if he ain't fainted again. The story you have just heard is a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated.
