It's a cloud of dust and a hearty hi-yo, Silver, the Lone Ranger. In 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. Come on, Silver. Let's go, McFarroll. I am silver. On Saturday night, the Golden Fleece Cafe in Porterville was crowded. And most of the crowd was made up of sheepmen, ranchers, traders, and herders, because Porterville was the heart of the western sheep country. Paul French, a tall, hard-featured man, elbowed his way through the crowd and finally reached the side of an old worn-out keepherder who sat near the end of the bar. Hello, Pop. I can't see very well anymore without my specs, but I guess I must know you. How are you doing now, Nat? Not much. Johnny and I are grazing a little flock over on the west slope. But it's hard, mighty hard. Guess I ain't been much good since the bank foreclosed on my ranch three years ago. I lost everything. Yeah, I know. Most folks say it's because I drink too much. But that ain't the reason. It's just that I guess... Nat, how'd you like to make a thousand dollars cash tonight? A thousand... What? Dollars. With that much money, you could prove to all these people you're not what they think you are. Yes, but... But how could... How could I... Simple. All you have to do is help me move some... Some supplies I got stored in that empty storeroom next door to the bank. Help you move... Ain't a thousand dollars pretty high wages for moving supplies? Not in this case. Now listen, Nat. I'll explain it to you. It was less than an hour later when Cynthia Weems, daughter of the Porterville Sheriff, entered her father's office on Main Street. Hello, Dad. Cynthia. Well, I'm glad to see you. Dad didn't expect you to... Me to drive into town and insist that you come home to dinner? That's exactly what I'm doing. If you can't remember when it's mealtime, I'll remind you. All right, Cynthia. Dad. I have to get over there. Sheriff! Sheriff! What's the trouble? Bank robbers. Somebody tried to rob the bank. Mr. Jarvis walked in on them. He nailed one of them. The other critter got away. You'd better get... I'll get right over. It might be best for you to wait here, Cynthia. And miss the excitement? Oh, no. I'm going with you. Johnny Doyle just rode up. This is going to be horrible for him. Yes, I wish it. What's going on? Hello, Sheriff. Evening, Miss Cynthia. Oh, Johnny, I... I'm afraid it's bad news for you, son. Bad news? What are you talking about? Your father is dead, Johnny. He's lying right over there under that blanket. Poor dad. Oh, no, I... I... Oh, how did it happen? Did his heart go back? There was nothing wrong with his heart. Until he tried to rob the bank and was caught red-handed. Then he stopped a bullet. No. No, that can't be right. Paul wouldn't rob anybody. I'm afraid he did, Johnny. Then, Mr. Jarvis saw him and another man making the getaway. I... I don't believe it. Naturally, you wouldn't. I... It might be a good idea, Sheriff, to check in his whereabouts this evening. I've been herding sheep all day. Before I didn't show up at the cabin at supper time, I saddled my pony and... All I know is the bank has been robbed. One outlaw's dead and the other one has to be caught. I'll do everything I can, Mr. Jarvis. Come on, Johnny. We'll tell the corner about your father and I want to ask you a few questions. All right, Sheriff. Anything you say. How about it, Jarvis? Work out all right? Yeah, so far, so good. All we have to do is keep the outlaw brand on that kid. And the sheriff following a blind trail. Yeah. Several days later, just after sundown, a severe rainstorm swept the hilly country surrounding Porterville. It forced the Lone Ranger and Tonto to rain up sharply at the base of a high cliff. Oh, hold on. I have trouble finding a dry camp near here, Tonto. I think we'd better keep on riding. Ah, better we... Kimisabi. What's the matter? Sound like a little dog. You hear him? Yes, I... Seems to be coming from back of that underbrush. Ah, big old sea. What is it, Tonto? Oh, little color. Kim Puppet. Think maybe you're hurt. Let me see. Yes, you're right. Collie Puppet with a broken leg. Must have fallen off that cliff in this storm. Plenty fast. There's no telling who his owner is, or if he has an owner. Might be a stray. Let me fix the little fella's broken leg. Good. Easy a minute, Soler. You can rest under this overhang for a few minutes. Gee, he's a fine-looking pup. We take him with us? No, I'm afraid that's impossible, Tonto. We have a long ride ahead of us. Not to be able to hear. Oh, of course not. Collie's a valuable dog, especially here in the sheep country. We'll stop at the first sheepherder's cabin we see and try to find him a home. There's a light burning in this cabin, Tonto. Hand me the pup. Ah, man. Hey, who's that out there? What the? Man. Who are you? Trying to find a home for this Collie Puppet. Puppet? I don't understand. We found him in a canyon about five miles east of here with a broken leg. My Indian friend has fixed that with bandages and splints. The dog needs a home. A masked outlaw carrying a Collie Puppet. This don't make sense. Are you a sheep rancher? I guess you'd call me that. This isn't much of a ranch. But you should give the dog a home. Is that right? Sure. I like Collie. Good. Here. Here you are. All right. I guess this ain't so crazy a bet. You bringing a homeless dog to me, maybe two strays will get along all right together. How about it, Pupp? What do you mean by that? Nothing. Nothing you'd understand, stranger. Maybe I would. Not unless your name was Johnny Doyle and you had a whole town against you. Can I help? No. Thanks. They already think I'm an outlaw. And if they knew about a masked gent like you, they'd be sure of it. I see. But I'm not worrying. I'll make out, all right. I don't know who you are, mister, but, well, oh, thanks for the collie, Pupp. Say, what's his name? He doesn't have a name yet. Well, I'll call him, uh, I'll call him Shep. Now, how better you make a first-rate sheepdog, won't you, boy? I'm sure he will, Johnny. And I'm equally sure you'll win against whatever you're fighting. Thanks. That's from one outlaw to another, huh? Maybe. And maybe not. Adios, Johnny. Johnny and Shep were inseparable, not only when they were herding sheep, but also when there were important calls to make. Yeah, the sheriff's office is right up ahead, Shep. I guess you'd better wait here by the hitch rag in front of the cafe, and you won't be in anybody's way. Now, stay right here and don't move, Shep. I won't be long, boy. You stay right there. Collie dog over there. Doesn't he belong to Johnny Doyle? Yeah, I guess so. Seen the kid with him. And I've got an idea that can't miss. You grab the cur and lug him into the cafe, so there'll be plenty of witnesses. Grab the dog? Well, witnesses to what? Listen, the kid must be around here someplace. If you raise a big ruckus, swear that the mutter's vicious, that he bit you, Johnny will show up, won't he? Well, I suppose so, but what's that gun... It's not, it's simple. You rile the kid into a fight. He pulls his gun, you shoot first, and it's self-defense. Yeah? Suppose I do frame a gunfight with a kid, and suppose you deal yourself in with that hideout gun. How do I know you won't plug me and frame the kid for murder? Why, Paul, how can you say such... I wouldn't trust you as far as I can throw a loaded freight wagon. Now, Paul, why should I double-cross you? We're friends. We work together. And besides that, you want your payoff, don't you? This is the way to get it. All right. I'll string along. Good. Now, the first thing we do is grab that dog. That's your job. Collies are one-man dogs, and they're dangerous. Well, not if they're handled right. A good kick back of his ear, the mutter'll be stupefied. Then we'll drag him in the cafe. Go ahead. It's your idea. Now, watch me. Hello there, boy. How are you? He's wise to you. I've heard a collie can smell a skunk a mile off. Shut up. I don't know if I can just get close enough to... What did I tell you? The mutt's not unconscious, but he's practically helpless. We can pick him up and take him to... You do that part of it, too. A sheepdog's got a memory like an elephant, and I don't want this one to remember me. Why, you... Go ahead. Open the door. I'll drag him in. My dog in here? Shep! Shep! Shep, what's wrong? What happened, boy? I'll tell you what's wrong. Doyle, that courier's tried to bite me in the leg. Drug him in here so that I'd have witnesses to... You're lying. Shep wouldn't bite anybody unless they mistreated him. Who are you calling a liar? You! If it's a gunfight you want, just keep reading my holster. I'm packing one of those things, too. He's dead, Johnny. You drilled him in the chest. No. No, I couldn't have. I aimed over his head. All I wanted to do was to... Shoot the man down in cold blood. We all saw it, Doyle. Here comes the sheriff. Big way now for the sheriff. What happened? I don't know. It all happened so fast, Sheriff. He walked in here and killed Paul French in front of 50 witnesses. I've told you all along, Sheriff. He said that, Johnny. I did shoot my gun, but... Am I under arrest? The man's dead. If you killed him, it's the law, Johnny. All right. I don't mind going to jail. It's... It's just that Shep won't have anybody... Hey, Louie, that redskin running for the hitchhike. What's he trying to get away from? Halt! I said halt! 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. Although Johnny Doyle was not aware of it, Tonto had witnessed the gunfight in which Paul French was killed. A short time after he had ignored the sheriff's command to halt, Tonto reined up at the Lone Ranger's camp. Halt! Halt! Halt! Halt! Halt! Halt! Halt! Halt! Halt! Halt! Halt! What's wrong? You got the supplies you went after in Porterville? No. No, me not get them. Me see gunfight. Come quick to tell you. Gunfight? What do you mean? Well, you remember, young fella. We give puppy dog two a long time ago. You mean Johnny Doyle? Did you see him in Porterville? Ah. See lawman arrest, young fella, for murder. Murder? Who did he kill? Well, me not know. Me hear gunshots, see big crowd. Hear Johnny tell sheriff. Him plenty worried about dog called Shep. That's the pup we found. He's probably full grown by now. Is Johnny under arrest? Ah. Lawman say him put him in jail. Well, maybe we help young fella, huh? We'll do everything we can. As soon as it gets dark, we'll ride into Porterville and see what we can find out. What the? My scuffalo. No, sheriff, you're wrong. But don't reach for that gun because you're covered. What do you want? Just a short talk with Johnny Doyle. Where is he? You mean this is a jailbreak? I didn't think Johnny was teamed up with... Where is he, sheriff? Through that door. One of the cells. Thanks. Keep him covered, Tonto. Uh-uh. He would have sworn Johnny Doyle was on the square. Never figured he had outlaw friends. I figure the same way, sheriff. That's why I'm here. Johnny. I'm a master. Where'd you come from? I got in from the west a few days ago. Tonto was here in town this afternoon. He came back to camp and told me about the trouble you're in. Tonto? My Indian friend. He's out in the front room now with the sheriff. I'd like to help you, Johnny, if I can. This doesn't make any sense any more than it did the first time I saw you. But, well, I believe you really mean that. I do. And I'll tell you what'd help me more than anything else. What's that? Find Shep, my colleague. See that he's taken care of no matter what happens to me. Oh, yes, I remember Shep. He must be quite a bit larger than the last time I saw him. Oh, sure. This look for the biggest and finest collie you ever dreamed about. That's Shep. He disappeared after that fracas this afternoon. Don't worry, Johnny. We'll find him. Gee, thanks, mister. You don't know how much... And if we have any luck, we might find a murderer, too. Adios, Johnny. Adios. Where's Johnny Doyle? Aren't you breaking him out? I told you you were mistaken about that, Sheriff. Have you got the Sheriff's gun, Tullo? Ah, good. We'll leave it for you outside, Sheriff. All the dead-blasted loco. Johnny! Johnny! Yes, Sheriff? Who was that mass kitty? Where'd he come from? What'd he want? I thought he was an owl who was breaking you out of jail. I wish I could answer some of those questions, Sheriff. Well, can't you? I'm telling the whole truth when I say I don't know any more about him than you do. For the next three days, the Lone Ranger and Tonto spent all of their time searching for Johnny's dog, Shep. But the great collie was nowhere to be found. He had failed to return to the little cabin that was home, or to the job of guarding the sheep entrusted to his care. Meanwhile, Johnny Doyle was tried and convicted of murder. Johnny Doyle? You've been convicted of murder. Sir, it's a sentence of this court that you shall spend the rest of your natural life as an inmate of territorial prison. Oh, Johnny, help me! Oh, no, don't cry, Cynthia. Please don't. I sure wish there was something I could do, sir. Something to help. Thanks, Sheriff, but... Well, I guess I'm sort of beyond all help now. Except for one kind. What do you mean, Johnny? No, you don't know him, Cynthia. Maybe I'm loco to keep on hoping. But he's the only hope I have. A big, tall gent who wears a black mask. Day after day went by as the Lone Ranger and Tonto continued their vain search for Shep. They found the great dog's trail many times, but he always eluded them. They weren't the only ones to hear of an outlaw collie. A delegation of sheep ranchers visited Sheriff Weems. The situation's getting serious, Sheriff. That outlaw collie of Johnny Doyle's is running wild. And he's getting every other sheep dog within a hundred miles of here to run with him. Yeah, I've lost two of my best dogs in the last three days. I don't doubt a chance. I've heard what Sheriff's been doing. What can I do? We figure the varmint's an outlaw just as much as Johnny is. Only difference, Johnny's in jail. And it's your duty, Sheriff, to corral outlaws. I suppose you boys will swear I'd a warrant. Sure we will. All right. And I'll point all of you, my deputies. We'll try to serve that warrant on an outlaw collie dog. That's what we will. The following afternoon, a few miles west of Porterville, Sheriff Weems and his posse picked up Shep's trail. Or rather, they picked up the trail of Shep and a score of other sheep dogs. The men arranged a clever trap at the base of a high mesa. A trap into which Shep and his renegades would surely be driven. Sheriff Weems posted himself at the narrow entrance. His Winchester rifle within easy reach. And it was here while he waited alone that he heard footsteps in the gravel behind him. What the... Shinty. What are you doing out here? A letter came for you, Dad. It's from territorial prison. I thought you ought to know. A letter? Let me see it. It looks important. This isn't very good news, Cynthia. What does it say? It's from the warden of the prison. He says, Dear Sheriff, Johnny Doyle broke out of jail today. I don't know for sure, but he may be head of your home. That's your range. Look for him. Oh, Dad, what will you do? I don't know. So you better climb back on your pony and head for town. I'm busy. But, Dad, I... One job at a time. When I get this one done, I'll worry about Johnny. Please go home now, will you? Hi. All right, Dad. I'll go. After his daughter had left, the sheriff was lost in thought for a few moments. Suddenly, a sharp sound brought his attention back to the trail that led down from the mesa. It was Shep, proud and defiant, plunging down the trail with the other dogs at his heels. The sheriff raised his rifle. And in that fraction of a second, Shep seemed to realize he was running into danger. He and his pack stopped suddenly. It was then that Sheriff Weems heard a quiet voice behind him. Don't shoot, Sheriff. Are there ways to stop him without using a bullet? Hey, Mass Man, are you the same one? That's right. But is that any reason to shoot one of the finest collies you've ever seen? I don't want to shoot him. I like dogs as much as anybody else, but there's no other way to... Yes, yes, there is. I'll get Shep for you. Here, Silver. If you figure you can dab a loop over that dog, you better think again. He's faster than grease light. And look at him. Is that he, big fella? The whole pack's heading for the top of the masonry. Good. Come on, Silver. Within a few moments, Silver reached the top of the level table land. And there, running far ahead of the dog pack, was Shep, a flashing streak of tawny fur. The lone ranger urged his horse forward. Master Silver. Come on, boy. Slowly but surely, the gap between the horse and the racing dog was lessened. With a single swift movement, the masked man reached for his rope and let it fall into a graceful loop. It was then that Shep stopped suddenly on the far edge of the plateau. Stopped not because of fear or exhaustion, but because his ears had caught the sound of a high, shrill whistle, the masked man heard the same sound and rained up his horse. Hold, hold, Silver. Hold, hold. There, there. There, there. Shep, it's all right. Johnny. It's all right. Johnny. Come here, boy. I saw what you did down there, keeping Sheriff Weems from using his rifle. You saved Shep's life. How did you get up here, Johnny? I climbed up. I broke out of prison two days ago. I was worried about Shep. He's awful smart, but he's just a dog. He don't understand about the law or me being away or anything. I think he does, Johnny. In fact, I'm pretty sure that Shep knows a lot more than you give him credit for. Now, what do you mean by that? I told you, I told him I would do some investigating about that shooting scrape you were in. Yes, but... We ask questions of different people in Porterville. Discovered several things. What? The man named Matt Jarvis is afraid of dogs. All dogs. On the afternoon, he complained about Shep. He'd kicked him a few moments before. Why, that dirty lowdown... He carries a hideout gun and a shoulder holster. What do you think, Jarvis? Here comes a sheriff and his posse. I'll have to leave. He'll probably arrest both you and Shep and take you into town. Don't worry about it. But how will I... I think Jarvis will convict himself if we give him the chance. Adios, Johnny. Come on, Silver. Johnny, do it. I didn't expect you to... I know it, Sheriff. But I'm not trying to get away. I'll go back to prison now that I know Shep's all right. Well, I'll be... Sheriff, I'd say you made a mighty good catch up here in the mesa. You came after one outlaw. You're taking two of them back. Yep. That's right. That gives me a double reason for wishing I didn't have this job. I'm up here with me, Johnny. Anything you say, Sheriff. I guess Shep won't try to get away. Get up there. Get up there. Right down, Johnny. I'll have to put you and the dog in the same cell and send word to the prison warden. Yeah, sure, I know. Congratulations, Sheriff. I heard that you were out after that outlaw, Kern. Why, that's Doyle. Johnny Doyle. He's supposed to be serving time. What's he doing now? Bring me down, Jarvis. I'll take care of the prisoner. Dog. Hold him. Keep off of me. I'll get you. Watch out, Jarvis. He's got a gun. Kill him. No, he won't. Drop it, Jarvis. Mass. Outlaws. Dogs. No matter how many we gang up on me, I can take care of you. Oh, my arm. You ask for that. Drop the gun. While you're about it, you can tell the law how you framed Johnny Doyle by killing your own partner with that same gun. You can't prove a thing. Jarvis, you look guilty as sin to me. I talked to the coroner, Sheriff. He showed me the bullet that killed Paul French. It didn't come from a .45 like Johnny's gun. It was from a Derringer like Jarvis carries. Well, I'll be... And it might not be a bad idea to check his account books. A man who would commit murder would rob his own bank. Well, if that's true, this dirty skunk must have killed Dad. No, Johnny. The law will take care of him. I say we will. I'll be writing to the governor asking a full pardon for you, Johnny. Oh, Johnny. Cynthia. Yeah, she's still beat all. I never was so glad to see a man prove innocent. Oh, wait a minute, Sheriff. What about Shep? Eh? I don't blame him. When folks thought I was an outlaw, well, I guess Shep figured he was one, too. Yep. I guess I've got a lot of apologizing to do. Gee, where's that mass gent who is there? He's gone, Sheriff. And I just figured out who he was, I'm sure, but... Who? The Lone Ranger. The story you have just heard is a copyrighted feature of The Lone Ranger Incorporated. The Lone Ranger Incorporated The Lone Ranger Incorporated The Lone Ranger Goranco
