A fiery horse with a speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty high old silver, the Lone Ranger. With his faithful Indian companion, Tonto, the daring and resourceful masked rider of the plains led the fight for law and order in the early western United States. 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. The Lone Ranger and Tonto were traveling south when they sighted a string of mules hitched to a heavy wagon. Then they recognized the mule skinner, an old friend called Thunder Martin. They hurried to meet him. Oh, Silver, hold on, hold on. Oh, man, oh, you've made you pack a snowman. Oh, I tell you. Martin, it's good to see you again. Oh, if I'd have been taking a whack out of a bottle of tornado juice, I'd say I was seeing things. How are you? Fine, fine. Tonto, you old ranch, gudging your cypress sunburn eyes. How old Thunder? Well, me, I'm a downcast, disheartening, all fired, miserable critter. Aren't you working at Clarabelle Hornblow's ranch anymore? Clarabelle and me are split up. Oh, you are? She said things that no man could take and hold his head up. That there woman is the most talking woman I ever knowed. Oh, sure, miss her. Oh, why? What did she say to you? Well, she waggled that shotgun under my nose and said she'd blow my head off if I didn't get. Steady, Silver. Did she mean it seriously? Well, just as a sample of how she meant it, she fetched me a whack with that skillet that darn near twisted my head so as I could scratch the back of my neck with my front teeth. I suppose I'm to blame in a way, but she should not have hold it against me. I sure miss that cheat meal. Well, what you do? Well, toward me that done it, there was a couple of buzzard-faced, triple-twisted polecats that stole Clarabelle's timberland. You mean that stand of trees on the hill north of the house? Yep. Oh, that's where we may camp. Well, you ain't going to camp there no more. Beagle and Tilford are cutting trees faster than a triple-handled, six-blade scythe and cut hay. Beagle? You mean Rance Beagle? Yeah, that oily mouthworm. He's slippery as a grease eel of stride fork lightning. Steady, Silver. Clarabelle should have known better than to send me into town to deal with him. Thunder, let me get this straight. Has Beagle taken that timberland away from Clarabelle? The timber, but not the land. Just the timber. And he sure is taking it fast. How did it happen? Oh, he had been bickering for some time with Clarabelle about that timber. He had a buyer for it, and he wanted to cut it and deliver it to this here buyer. Then he bought it from Clarabelle? He would have. He should have dealt with him personal instead of sending a no-good, addle-headed galoot. Meaning me. You went to deal with Beagle? Yeah. I met him in the cafe in town, and we had a few drinks. Yeah? Then a critic by the name of Tilford steps up and joins us. Beagle introduces me. Shake hands with the man who's going to make you famous, Thunder. This is John Tilford. Mighty proud to meet you, Thunder. Mighty proud. What's this about making me famous? Yeah. Let me get one thing straight, Martin. Aren't you the man who helped the Lone Ranger in that camel expedition? I reckon that's me. Good. And you're a sure thing. Sure thing for what? For the next sheriff. Huh? That's right, Thunder. Mr. Tilford has made many a man famous. Now, if you're a good sheriff, we might run you for governor. Who knows? You might even get to be president. You'll accept, won't you, Thunder? Well, I... Gosh, Mr. Beagle, I... Why, it's your duty. Now, uh, just sign your name here. What's this? Well, we can't make you sheriff without your permission. You'll have to sign both copies. Go on, Thunder. Sign it. And let Mr. Tilford start you on the road to fame. Well, I signed that dad-batter paper, never thinking it might be something different from what those crooks said. You know, I plum forgot all about Clarabelle's timber deal. The fact is, I didn't think no more about it till I got back to the ranch and told Clarabelle what had happened. Clarabelle said she never heard of Mr. Tilford. I never heard of him, and what's more, I don't think he knows enough to come in out of the rain. Now, Clarabelle... If he did, he wouldn't talk about making you a sheriff. Clarabelle, I might make a first-rate lawman. What was Tilford after? Did you spend all you had buying him drinks or lend him cash or something? No, I didn't do nothing of the sort. What about that timber deal? Well, you see, Clarabelle, we got to talking about my work after I got to be sheriff, and it got so late that Mr. Beagle had to leave. Then you didn't make a deal. No, but we... Of all the good-for-nothing galoots, I go to all the trouble to get a legal paper so as you can sign a contract for me and... The door. I'll see who it is you get out of my way. Well? Oh, it's you, Mr. Beagle. Howdy, Miss Hornblow. I'm sure glad to see you. Step right in, won't you? Thanks. Hello, Martin. You must have just about bothered me from town. I'm sorry Thunder's such an addle-headed old goat. I expect he clean forgot about that deal on the timberland. Forgot about it? Well, I was just trying to tell her about Mr. Tilford and about me being a sheriff. Oh, but Thunder didn't forget about it, Miss Hornblow. We made a deal for your timber. Your what? Huh? Here's the agreement. I brought your copy to you. All signed and witnessed. Who signed it? Well, you did, Thunder. Let me see that. Well, maybe you left a few details in that bottle on the bar, hmm? I never... Thunder, Martin, this here's your handwriting. Ain't no mistaking that hen scratching you make when you get your hand on a pen. Where's the money, you guard? And I didn't get no cash. Now, just a minute. What are you trying to put over on me? I never got no cash. What's more, I never made a deal for the timber. All I signed was that paper that said I was willing to be sheriff or something. Did you read that paper? Well, not exactly. Mr. Tilford told me what it said. Have all the pinheaded, loud face... Now, Clarabelle, I gave you the cash. Beagle, you're a downright barefaced out and out liar. All I know is what's in writing. There's an agreement and it's all witnessed. I have the power of attorney that makes Martin's signature valid. The timber belongs to me. You just try and get it. Yeah, you just try. Get out of here. But I didn't... Go on, both of you. Where's my shotgun? By the jumping jackrabbit, I'll start fireworks around here. Go on now, clear out, both of you. Well, I spent a long time trying to persuade Clarabelle to let me sell off my mules and make up what I cost her, but she wouldn't listen. I finally had to give up. Thunder, there must be some way we can adjust things. Hey, hey, did you say we? Yes. You mean to say you'll help me? Thunder, you said these men had started cutting trees. They sure are shooting half. I went through the valley between the range and the hill, and those critters are cutting timber like hungry beavers. They got a lot of men working for them. I wonder if they're working against time. Well, I don't know about that. I... You know what Beagle is going to do with the timber? Yeah, I know that. He's selling it to the railroad for ties. I'd like to see that agreement. Clarabelle's got a copy of it. She... No, I reckon it wouldn't do to ask her. She ain't in a sociable mood. Just spawning to let go of that shotgun. Why don't you turn back and travel with Toto and me? Well, if that woman sees me in her land, she'll have a... You can keep out of sight until we look the situation over. You think there's anything that can be done? I don't know. We're going to find out. You follow us. You called it, and you'll get it. Come on, you Soviet laborers. Get him up, Scott. Come on around before I unhinge you. Right, let me look up next. Get along. Get up. Down, Silver. Clarabelle Hornbell Lowe had developed a stern manner and an iron will through the years of fighting to hold and manage her ranch. Smoldering rage was in her face as she sat on the porch listening to the sheriff. You see, Clarabelle, before I went to the woods to talk to Beagle and Tilford, I called in lawyer Crane. He's always willing to help me out on legal facts and things. All right. All right, slew foot. You talk to nosy Crane. Skip that. What I want to know is how you made out with Beagle. Well, Clarabelle, I don't like to say this. Get on with it. Beagle's got you. Legal? Yep. Air tight, Clarabelle. You should see his camp up there on the side of your hill. I don't want to see it. You look right over yonder, straight across the valley, and you can see smoke rising above the trees. That's where Beagle's throwing up a headquarter shack. Never mind that part of it. He's got about 50 men working, cutting trees like blue blazes. I know he's got men working, and I know he's cutting trees. Sakes alive, I got ears, ain't I? I hear them when the wind's right. Well, I'm trying to... Get the cases. What'd you say to Beagle, and what'd he say to you? I told him you'd sent me, and he said he'd been expecting me. He showed me the agreement that had been signed by Thunder Martin. It's called old gold-eyed. Huh? Go ahead. Then what? Huh. That paper didn't leave nothing out. It told how he'd paid $5,000 for the right to take timber from that hillside land. I read the agreement. I got a copy of it. Well, he had a paper giving Martin the power of attorney to sign for you. And he had everything witnessed and all in order. He claims he paid Martin the $5,000. He lies. You'd already set the price at $5,000, hadn't you? Sure. We talked the price over some time ago. Price was all right, only he didn't pay it. Maybe he's telling the truth. Meaning what? Maybe he did give Thunder the money. That'll do. Now, look. $5,000 is more cash than Thunder had ever seen in his whole life. With such temptation, any man might try to... Listen to me, you hammer-headed, third-rate excuse for a lawman. Thunder may be a jughead. He may be the ugliest-looking, simple-minded galoot that ever came over the trail. And he may lie like a quarter-breed and cuss like a magpie. But the old fool's honest. Get that through your thick skull. What's more, Thunder wouldn't let $5,000 come between him and me. No, $5 million. He says he didn't get that cash and he didn't get it. All right, Clare Bell. What's so funny about it? I only said that to see how you felt about Thunder. I'm hanged if you ain't in love with him. Love, my eye. Woman my age in love. Um, it's only that I got used to having the old galoot and his mules around here. I know. I, um... I figured on making a manager of the place. That is why I fixed things so as he could go ahead and make the deal with Beagle. Should have known better than to let Thunder deal with a man that's got brains. It weren't fair. Ah, someone's coming. And fast. We'd better get to the side of the house and see who it is. It's probably Slim Farnsworth. I sent him into town for some supplies. Oh, there he is. Oh, oh. Howdy, Slim. Hey there, Farnsworth. Miss Hornblow. What have I told you about riding a horse to Labber? Well, listen, listen. I gotta tell you. I saw Thunder Martin in town. Yeah? What's he say? He's turned against you. What's that? Yes, ma'am. He's working hand in glove with Beagle. You be careful what you say. It's true, ma'am. Clare Bell, a man like Thunder will put up with a lot before he gets riled. But when he's really married... You shut up. Oh, Slim Farnsworth, give me facts and back him with proof. He's all over town hiring men that can swing a two-edged axe to cut timber. Thunder Martin is? Yes, ma'am. And he's got his mules hitched to his wagon and the wagon loaded down with supplies for a lumbering camp. Why, that two-faced double-dealing turncoat. I should have let daylight thrill him. By Juniper, it ain't too late. Hitch up that big grown horse while I get my shotgun. As for you, Slewfoot, if you don't want to see violence, just keep out of town. I'll show Thunder Martin what happens to them that double-crossed Clare Bell horn blow. 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. How to continue our story. Thunder Martin stood at the bar in the town's biggest cafe. Half a dozen men with broad, keen-edged axes surrounded Thunder, who seemed to be the host. All the way, Joe. Filler all the way. Here, Thunder. You do the part. How are you talking, Joe? You boys want to be careful with this tornado juice. Don't spill none of it on your clothes. It eats holes right through. Hey, Thunder, what are we waiting for? I thought you said we'd start work right away. We'll start in a few minutes. Just as soon as the two gents that's over there at that table in the corner gets done talking. One of them is Walt Williams, ain't it? Yep, that's right, Joe. He owns the land that's adjoining to Clare Bell Hornblows, Lynch. Who's the other gents? He's a stranger to me. Never seen him around here before. Oh, he's been around before. He's generally dressed different than what you see him now. Well, drink up, gents. Here's to the job at hand. Here's to it. Yep. Ain't going to be long now. You got your wagon all loaded up outside, ain't you? Uh-huh. Well, here's to the job. Here's to it. Thunder Martin! You have a shovel! Oh, quiet face! Go first! Oh, Clare Bell, take it easy. He's choking on his drink. He's laughing on the back. That's a good idea. Stand aside. I'll slap his back. If that don't do it, I'll bend this shotgun barrel over his head. No, no, no, Clare Bell, wait a minute. Listen to me, ugly-looking rapscallion. I've known all kinds of riffraff. I've known rascals and reprobates. I've crossed tracks with hoodlums, jailbirds, loafers, bums, and bullies. But there ain't no one of them that ever sold me out like you done. But, but, but, Clare Bell... Shut up while I'm talking. Oh, no. Of all the deep-dyed scamps I ever knew, you're the lowest and the meanest. Clare Bell, this is awful. You don't shabby. You, Tim Jackson. Now, don't shut on me. I ain't done nothing. Answer me one question, yes or no? Did Thunder hire you to cut timber? Yeah. What about you? Oh, hey, don't partner with that rifle barrel. Did this tin horn hire you to cut timber, too? Well, yeah. What about the rest of you? Oh, Clare Bell, if you'd just trust me. Trust you? Why, you good for nothing? Please don't get started again. I'd sooner trust a polecat that's bumped up against a porcupine. Oh, Clare Bell. Huh? Who said that? I did. Oh, you. Strip your voice for someone else. Where'd you come from? I was talking to your neighbor over at the corner table. Just listen to that man for a second, Clare Bell. Don't you tell me what to do. Let's go outside, Miss Hornblow. I want to talk to you. I'd go anywhere to get that two-faced mule skinner out of my sight. If everything's all set, Thunder, you can go right ahead. I sure feel like hunting for a hole in the cloud and crawling right into a dome body. Now that we're out here, I have something to tell you. You better go your way and I'll go mine. I don't want nothing to do with anyone that's friendly with Martin. Just a minute, Clare Bell. You're wrong about Thunder. Wrong my eye. He sold me out. No. No, he didn't. Don't tell me, stranger. I know what I'm talking about. You're not strangers. Huh? A moment ago, you thought you recognized my voice. Yeah, but I thought... Do you recognize the white horse over there at the rail? White horse? Hey, that looks like... Great day. The horse is named Silver. Say, don't tell me that you... Let me look closer. I disguised my face, Clare Bell, so I could come into town without a mask. Well, I'll be doggone. When I was in the cafe, I talked to your neighbor. Which one? Walt Williams. Oh. He also owns Timberland on the hill. I know that. It's right next to the land that you've leased to Beagle. Yep. Well, that's where Thunder and those men are going. You mean they're going to cut timber on Walt Williams' hill? Yes. Not on mine? No. Why, I thought Thunder had hired men to work for Beagle. But I don't get it. Why is Thunder to cut timber? Believe me, Clare Bell, it'll all be clear to you by the first of the month. Now, in the meantime, I want to use the valley. The valley? The valley between your house and the hill where Beagle's cutting trees. I want it for a camp. While the Lone Ranger moved through town in disguise, making various arrangements and agreements, his faithful Indian friend Tonto was far to the north at the village of Chief Thundercloud. Thundercloud. Many times you say you like help, good friend. That's true, Tonto. My people in heavy debt to you and friend with mask on face. Well, how you like to hunt in New Valley. New Valley? Ah. That valley to south where Indian never hunt. Maybe you move there for many moons. Several days later, the valley that lay between Clare Bell's house and the timber-covered hill became a scene of great activity. Chief Thundercloud and his whole village moved in and pitched their wigwams. There were over half a hundred braves and as many women. There were children of all ages, as well as horses, cattle, and many dogs. The Lone Ranger was there to meet them and to give them instructions through Tonto. I'll make it clear that they must stay in the valley between the boundaries of Clare Bell's ranch. Ah. Me already do that. Perhaps I'd better build a fence around their camp. Me savvy. Have them start the fence at the bottom of the hills. Right at the edge of woods, huh? Yes. Ah. Me tell them. Oh. Look there. A woman come this way. Uh-huh. You go and talk to Thundercloud about the fence. I'll explain things to Clare Bell. Ah. Whoa, whoa there. Whoa, whoa. Hello, Clare Bell. Sorry you've shucked your disguise. Yes. Well, what's all this? Who are the redskins? Great day. What's going on here? These are your guests. What? Well, you said that friends of mine might camp in the valley. You mean to say you was talking about all these Indians? They're my friends. And the horses and the cattle? Even the dogs. Now, see here, I didn't figure out anything like this. I had... You promised me the use of the land. Oh, my sakes alive. Surprise. That's putting it downright mild. I bet you're not half a surprise as the men up there in the woods. I wonder what Beagle and Tilford think of this situation. What do you make of it, Tilford? Your guess is as good as mine. I suppose there's no call for us to be concerned, as long as those redskins stay in the valley. I hope they stay there. That's what I hope. Me too. Hate to have an Indian fight on our hands. I don't think we... Just a minute, Beagle. Look over there. Someone on a horse. Don't you see who it is? Thunder Martin. What's he doing here? Oh, there. Oh. Oh, there. Oh. Where are them, Martin? Don't you start anything. Well, Tilford, you ain't making no bones about being tied up with Beagle, are you? Why should I? You weren't interested in lumbering when I first met up with you. You were talking politics. What do you want here? Me? Oh, I just dropped by to tell you that Tilford ain't the only one that changes interest. I changed too. What do you mean? If you'd have been around town, you'd have heard about it. I'm cutting timber the same as you are. What? You? Where? I got a sort of a deal with Walt Williams. His timber's right over yonder there. I don't believe you. He wouldn't sell it a fair price. Well, he wouldn't give it away for nothing like Clair Bell's doing, but he was willing to listen to reason. Who are you cutting timber for? Who are you selling it to? Well, gents, I'll have some timber ready for that railroad just in case you quitters can't deliver. Yeah. Might keep me in mind. Well, I got to be getting along. Get along there, you stupid timber. Get out. Each day saw more timber cut, trimmed, and stacked in Rance Beagle's camp. Each day brought the deadline closer. In the meantime, the Indians went about their business in the valley. They hunted and fished and held their ceremonials in the council ring. The ceremonial was in progress when Beagle and Tilford came out of the forest at the head of a long column. Rain up here, Tilford. Ho, ho, ho. Hold up there, boys. Hold up. Ho, ho, ho, ho. I wonder how long this fence has been here. I don't know. It wasn't here when we went into the woods. Hey, boys. Come here and take this fence apart. Beagle, look. You hadn't better touch the fence. Masked. Who are you? What's the idea? The Indians built that fence to keep people away from their village until the ceremonial is finished. Well, they'll not stop us. We have timber for the railroad. Boys, rip that fence down. I wouldn't touch it if I were you. Well, you're not us. I'll look out. Great day. That arrow just missed you. Look how it's stuck in the fence. Hard wood, too. But it might have killed me. The Indians don't like to be disturbed. Well, they'll have to like it. We've got to get our timber to the railroad. Just a minute, Beagle. How long does this ceremonial thing last? Oh, some of the Indian ceremonials last for several days. Several days? Yes. This might be one of them. Well, that settles it. We can't wait. That's all. Boys, come on up here with your guns ready. Take that fence down and shoot anyone who raises a bow and arrow. Beagle, look at them. Every one of them is watching us. Everyone has an arrow knocked to the bow. But we've got to get through, boys. We've got to fight our way through. We'll have to fight. That's all there is to it. Not me. I don't want an arrow in my eye to help me out. Are you afraid of a pack of Indians? You're fast. I'm mighty scared of them. Listen, you fools. Listen, we don't get the timber to the railroad, we can't get our money. None of you'll get paid. How about going in the opposite direction, over the top of the hill? We can't haul this timber uphill. It doesn't look as if you're going through the valley. You've got to help me. You've got to suggest something. If I don't get the timber out right away, I'm ruined. These men will take every dime I have for their pay. Well, do you think I can wave a hand and make the Indians move out of the valley so you can go through? Well, look who's here. It's Martin again. Honey, Jancy. You cut off by the Redskins? I thought you had a hand in this, Martin. Charles, what would you do about it, you sidewinder? Maybe that there choo-choo outfit would be in the market for my timber after all. I'll bet you did have a hand in this. Well, you never can tell. I've got a mighty big hand. Martin, I know when I'm up against the situation. Can you deliver timber to the railroad? I reckon so. What'll you take for timber enough to fulfill my contract? Why should he sell to you, Bagel? Well, you'd resell to the railroad at a profit. You keep out of this. Martin might get a much better price than the railroad. Martin, I've got to pay off these men. I've got to make enough for that. I'm sorry we played a trick on you. Tell you what I'll do, Bagel. You offered Clarabelle $5,000. Will you take $5,000? Make it six. Done. For $6,000, I'll guarantee that you can fill that contract you got. Is that all right with you? Yes. Let me see the cash. Tilford, you have the cash. Right. Hold out your hand, Martin. I'll count it out. We can leave the timber we cut right where it is. William's property lies beyond where these Indians are camping. $6,000. That's right, Tilford. I'll take this to Clarabelle. To Clarabelle? I never said what timber you could deliver. You just go right ahead and deliver what you got cut. Well, but you, what about the timber you cut? Oh, me and the boys didn't cut much. I reckoned about $10 for each of my men will pay for all they did. Then you have no timber? Nope. But you got her all cut. Go ahead and deliver it. We're right where we started. Those Indians. Hey, look. They're packing up and moving out. The Indians are leaving. Here, I'll take the fence down for you. Oh, you swindled me. You cheated me. Say that louder so Clarabelle can hear you. Oh, oh there, oh. Clarabelle. Masked man, put it over. I've seen him raise his hand to signal the redskins. Then I've seen them all start moving away. Oh, that mask man. He helped swindle me. Where is he? I've got a score to settle with him. He's right over yonder with his horse. And if you're smart, you'll get that timber and get out without no fool notions of settling a score with the Lone Ranger. The story you have just heard is a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated.
