A fiery horse with a speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty hi-yo silver, the Lone Ranger. A beautiful 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 hoof beats of the great horse, Silver. The Lone Ranger rides again. Are you still there? Let's go, big fellow. Are you still there? It was early evening when Charlie Wilkins completed his journey from Arbor City to Morgantown to transact some personal business. He was eating at a table in a corner of the town cafe when a stranger tapped him on the shoulder. Pardon me, sir, but I'd like to talk to you. All right, stranger. Guess that can be arranged. Take a chair here beside me. Thank you, Mr. Wilkins. Wilkins? So you know me, huh? I was sitting in the hotel lobby when you checked in. I heard the clerk call you by name. I'm registered there, too. I, um, didn't catch your name, mister. Oh, I'm sorry. My name's Harper. Yeah, Harper, huh? S.A. Harper. I'm an agent for the railroad that's coming through this territory. Get to the point, Harper. What do you want? What are you bothering me for? I understand you refused Brewster's very generous offer to buy your property. You bet your boots I did. Brewster's a crook. He holds a small mortgage on my place, but I'm paying it off just like I agreed to. The other day he come around with this generous offer, as you call it. Seems he must have had advance notice about your line coming through. That's right, he did. He was out to buy up everything he could. And we sell it to your railroad at a nice, fat profit. Well, it's not quite as cold a proposition as that, Mr. Wilkins. It ain't, huh? You see, it's easier for us to deal with one man than with several dozen. We try to find a man who knows a local situation and deal through him. Yeah, I mean, of course, a man like Ace Brewster. Mr. Wilkins, we're getting nowhere with this conversation. Then hurry up and finish it. I'm getting mighty tired of your talk. Why won't you reconsider and sell? My line needs your property. Without it, we'll have to reroute for several miles. You're blocking everything. Well, you'll just have to reroute then. Please calm down. Every one of the cafes is looking this way. Don't you try to calm me down, you slick-eared rail agent. I hope everyone in the place and the whole blamed territory knows what I think of you doggone railroad men. Mr. Wilkins, please. I don't like railroads. And I don't like the high-handed, sneaking way they deal with us ranchers. I'm not selling out to your kind now or never. Very well. And one thing more. If you ever set foot on my property, you'll regret it. I've tolerated just about all I'm gonna. Now get away from my table and don't bother me no more. Although Charlie Wilkins had been asleep since midnight, through his slumber, he suddenly sensed a strange, unwelcome movement in his hotel room. He awoke and in the moonlight saw a half-breed dash out the window to the second-floor porch. He leaped from his bed and reached for his gun. His gun belt was hanging where he had left it, but the .45 was gone. That's it. That ordinary breed stole my gun. By that dirty coyote. What in thunder? Those are shots coming from the next room. Can't mean nothing good. Better see what's going on. Blast this lock. It's holding me back. There. That does it. That's strange. The door's wide open. And here's my gun lying here on the floor. Jumping. Catfish. It's that rail agent. Someone's filling in full of lead. And with my gun. I don't know. I woke up to find a breed running out of my window with my gun. And I heard shots in here. I came in as fast as I could. Hey, anybody got a landing? Yeah, here's the landing. Look, it's that rail agent, Hopper. Get in a mackerel. Yeah. And look here. This fellow standing here is the one that had the big ruckus with him in the cafe this evening. Boys, run and get the sheriff. We got a hot-headed killer for him. The confused Charlie Wilkins was charged with murder and placed under arrest. The following day, a jury was selected and trial was to begin two days later. Shortly before the trial, the attorney who had offered to defend him paid Charlie a visit at his jail cell. Charlie, the evidence is all against you. There's only one thing for you to do. Plead guilty to manslaughter and take a five to ten year sentence in territorial prison. Five to ten years? Shall we enter the plea? Go ahead if you think it's the only way. First, I want you to do something else for me. What's that? All the family I have is my 16-year-old son, Tom. My wife passed away some time ago. Go on. I don't want him or anyone else back in Arbor City to know anything about this. I want you to go back there and tell the boy I've been killed. I don't want him to have to face life thinking his father's a convict. Very well. One more thing. The railroad wants to buy my property. They'll pay a nice sum. We see that they're sold to them and give the money to Tom. Otherwise, you'll lose the place when a mortgage comes due. Don't worry. I'll take care of everything. Charlie Wilkins was tried, convicted, and sentenced to territorial prison. Instead of selling the Charlie Wilkins property to the railroad as he promised, the young attorney headed straight for Ace Brewster's office. Well, Ace, we put it over. That breed you hired to frame him did his job well. Fine, fine. As soon as he was tossed in jail, I offered my services as defense counsel and steered him right into prison. You're a very smart young man. The old man thinks I'm going to tell his son he was killed and sell his place to the railroad. Oh. He wants folks to think he's dead, eh? That's right. Well, if that's the way he wants it, it's all right with me. But instead of selling, you sit tight for a few days until the mortgage expires. Then we can start foreclosure proceedings. Five years passed. With election just a few days away, excitement ran high in Arbor City. The chief topic of conversation was centered about the question, who will be the next sheriff? As interested citizens discussed the matter in little sidewalk groups, Ace Brewster, now the much-feared king of local gambling, was busy in his office discussing events with some of his henchmen. Well, boys, what do you hear? How are they betting on the election? Be perfectly honest, boss. Things don't look so good. Yeah, that's right, Ace. I was afraid of that. But this young, angel-faced Tom Wilkins seems to have some magic spell over the fools in this town. If he's re-elected and keeps up his meddling, he's bound to find out about our business. And if that happens, we'll all end up behind bars. Boss, what are we going to do about this fella? Boys, if the little tin-horn hero's father should suddenly appear on the scene as a newly paroled convict, that wouldn't help his chances for re-election any, would it? Father of convict. Hey, boss, I don't savvy. Now, listen, no one else in town knows this, not even Tom. But his father's been in territorial prison for the past five years. I thought his father died when Tom was just a kid. Well, sure, everybody thinks that. I know, I know. That's the way Charlie, as Tom's father, wanted it. I thought it would be a good idea. I happen to have an influential friend who's very close to the governor. He's ready to arrange Charlie's release as soon as I say the word. And in a few days, Charlie Wilkins will be a free man and a great help to my, uh, campaign. Three days later, not far from the little community of Arbor City, the Lone Ranger and Tonto made camp for the night. They became alert at the sound of approaching hoofbeats. Kimosabe, horse come past. Yes, someone's riding hard. Too hard. If this horse should stumble on this rough ground, he'd be in for a bad spill. What happened, Tonto? That bad fall. Come on, he's right beyond those trees. Maybe he'll hurt pretty bad. Maybe. Horse not hurt. He didn't get enough. Let's see about the rider. Here, your rider. Steady, take it easy. Of course, sir. Tonto and I heard you fall. We'll help you. No, you won't. Not with that mask. Don't need no help from outlaws. You're making a mistake. I'll take my chances on that. I'll just stand back so I can get myself to my feet. All right. Go ahead. What's the matter? Oh, my ankle. Must be broke. Let Tonto see your ankle. He's quite a doctor. No. Never thought I'd see the day I need help from outlaws. We're not outlaws. We ain't, huh? No. What in thunder are you wearing that mask for? Oh. Ankle not broke, Kimosabe. What's that? It ain't. Just plain sprain. Tonto, take his horse. Come on. I'll help you. Where are you taking me? Over to the camp where we can fix you up. The masked man and Tonto soon convinced the man they befriended that they were not outlaws. After food and coffee, the old man became talkative. He told them all about himself. He was Charlie Wilkins, the man who had been framed with manslaughter five years before and had just been paroled. The lone ranger and Tonto listened intently as he related his story. When Charlie had finished with his story, he turned in for the night. In a few minutes, he was fast asleep. Tonto spoke to the lone ranger in hushed tones. Kimosabe. Yes. I want to see his son, Tom Wilkins. I know. He's running for sheriff against Ace Brewster over in Arbor City. Oh, maybe Ace fella. He's a fix for all. Tonto, he must be. It's probably a trick to injure Tom and win the election. Ah. Charlie doesn't know it. He needs help. Oh, you know. I'll think things over and have another talk with him in the morning. You wouldn't want your return home to harm your son, would you? No, of course not. Why don't you postpone your return to Arbor City for a day or so? But Tonto and I go ahead and do some investigating. That sort of talk don't make no sense to me. Besides, how do I know you're on the up and up? You're wearing that mask and you won't say who you are. If I can identify myself satisfactorily, will you listen to my plan? I guess that'd be only fair. All right. Here. Does this silver bullet mean anything to you? Silver bullet? Say, I've heard of you. Even inmates of territorial prison know the Lone Ranger. You put enough of them in there, you know. Is the bullet sufficient identification? You'll bet your boots. But I still don't see why. Charlie, I'd like to see if I can't find out who influenced your parole. So would I. Why can't I go with you? My hunch is right. It would be much wiser for you to stay out of town until I can get to the bottom of this. Well, I suppose you know what's best. This is a good spot for a camp. There's plenty of shelter and a fine stream. Besides, it'll do you good to relax out here in the open for a day or so. Oh, I know that, all right. We'll leave plenty of provisions for you. The weapon in case you should need it. All right. I'll stay if you say so. Hutto, help me with the disguise. Then we'll head for Arbor City. 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. Disguised as a cow puncher, the Lone Ranger rode into Arbor City with Tonto to look around. Raining up, they hitched the horses at the south end of town, then strolled up the main street. Hutto, there's a jail just ahead. Well, good morning, Jim. Good morning. How? What can I do for you? Tom, there are a couple of things I want to ask you. All right, go ahead. What's on your mind? How don't I notice a lot of bad characters, gunmen and gamblers, hanging around town? Well, all I can say to that is there were a lot more of their kind before I took over. Oh? They're Ace Brewster's men. I see. You see, Brewster's been a big power in this town as long as I can remember. Oh. When I was first elected sheriff, I guess he thought I'd more or less do as he said. But I soon showed him he was wrong. Tom, I hoped you'd talk like that. Stranger, I don't serve you. I'm glad Charlie Wilkins' son is an honest sheriff. Charlie Wilkins' son? Did you know my father? I just met him last night. Last night? That's right. But that's impossible. My father's been dead for five years. That's what he wanted everyone to think. Mister, you're talking in circles and I don't like it. Tom, your father was framed for manslaughter in Morgantown five years ago and sent to territorial prison. No. That can't be true. That's what he told me and I'm inclined to believe him. This is too much for me. Tom, did an attorney call on you to tell you of your father's death? Yes. Did he say anything about your father's wanting you to sell the property? Not a word. Soon after Dad's death, that is according to what I was told, the mortgage fell due on our place and Ace Brewster foreclosed. Then he sold the property to the railroad. I suspected as much. My dad, where is he? Just a minute. Tom, you know Brewster and his gang pretty well, don't you? I sure do. I've been after him for a long time. Does he have a half-breed gunman in his employ? No, he's never used a breed, at least not in this town. That's fine. Now look, mister, you're asking a lot of funny questions. Things I'd never answer if you didn't claim to know so much about my dad. If he's alive, I want to see him. I want to help him. Can't spend the rest of his days paying for a crime he didn't commit. He won't. What do you mean? He's not... He was paroled yesterday. Paroled? Yes. Now, someone in town is responsible for your father's release from prison. And Brewster's the only man who knows about your father. Hmm. I believe he had your father released so he'd return home, an ex-convict, on the eve of election. Why, if that no good two-time and gambler did a thing like that to my dad. He did so in the belief that the citizens would turn against you when they found out about your father. The sins of the father, huh? That's right. Well, there's something ace overlooked. What's that, Tom? I'd rather have my father than a law badge any day. Tom, I think I'll be able to help you so you can have both. Well, mister, who in tarnation are you, anyway? There's something about you that... Well, you look just like a poor cow, puncher, but you sure don't talk like one. Tom, right now, who I am isn't important. But look, I want to... Come with me. I'll take you to your father. The Lone Ranger, Tonto, and young Sheriff Tom Wilkins pulled up at the camp where Charlie was waiting. Yes, Charlie. And we brought someone with us. Tom. Tom, my boy. Howdy, Dad. Tom, you've grown so much. I hardly knew you at first. Dad. Dad, I... Oh, golly, you haven't changed a... Oh, my boy. Tom, come with me. I'll let his father have things to talk over. Thanks, mister. Dad, this stranger in his red skin sure surprised me. They brought me all the way out here. Oh, Charlie, plenty happy came to study. Yes, Tonto. I'm convinced they're both perfectly honest. Ah. And what do we do now? I have a plan with which we can trap Ace Brewster and make him pay for what he did to Charlie. Well, that's good. First, I want you to help me remove this disguise. After his disguise was removed, the Lone Ranger donned his familiar mask, and he and Tonto joined Tom and Charlie Wilkins. As the masked man and Tonto came out of the thicket into the clearing where the father and son were talking, the sudden transformation from cowpoke to masked man startled the young sheriff. Mask! Don't be alarmed, Tom. Don't let that mask upset you, son. It seems to be an important part of this fella's getup. Yeah, but only outlaws were a mask. Tom, that's exactly what I thought until I met up with this fella. We're wasting valuable time. There's much work to be done. What do you mean? Yeah. Uh, what you got on your mind now? Tom, a little while ago I told you you could have your father and your sheriff's badge, too. I remember. You have your father. Now we're going to insure your job. Tonto, I need a half-breed disguise for Charlie. What's the disguise for? Well, Tom, according to what I'm told, Ace Brewster hired a breed to shoot that railroad agent and testify against your father. That's right, son. And my guess is that after the trial, he hightailed it from Mexico. Now that chiseling Brewster would stop at nothing. Charlie, I hope you can remember a few details about the breed's appearance. You can stake your life on that. I'd know him anywhere. That's fine. Yeah. What do you want to know about him? Enough so I can fix the disguise so you'll look like him. Well, I... Now let's get started. There's no time to lose. In the darkness that had fallen over Arbor City, four horsemen pulled up near the back door of Ace Brewster's office. Oh, oh, come on. There were the Lone Ranger, Tonto, Tom Wilkins, and his father, who was disguised as a half-breed gunman. There, lightened Brewster's office. Yes, Tonto. It means he's inside. Mister, I don't want to seem ungrateful, but I certainly hope you know what you're doing. We'll leave the horses here and walk over to his office. Hey, you want me to go with you now? That's right, Charlie. Remember, you have to talk. You're a breed. Yeah. Si, senor. I will remember. Tom, you and Tonto will hide outside the window while your father and I go in. Right. You should be able to hear everything that's said from there. Remember now, no matter what you hear or what happens, don't come in until I call you. I'll remember. Fine. Well, let's get started. Good evening, Ace. What? You're masked. That's right. Why, you... Don't reach for that gun. Leave it right on your desk. You draw pretty fast. Yes, I find it convenient that way. What are you doing here? What do you want with me? What about this breed with you? Ace, I've just come upon some information that should interest you. What kind of information? It's about a man named Charlie Wilkins. Wilkins? He went to prison on a manslaughter charge five years ago. What does that have to do with me? Everything. Shall I go into detail? This is absurd, preposterous. I don't know what you're driving at. You have a short memory. That's no business of yours. You're wrong. I make things like this my business. You owl who... Five years ago, you tried to buy Charlie's property when you heard the railroad was coming through so you could resell to the railroad. Well, there's nothing wrong with that. It's perfectly legal. Charlie refused to sell, so you framed him with manslaughter. You blackmailer. I'll fix you and this half-breed with you. I told you to leave that gun on your desk. Shoot the gun off my desk, huh? That'll just arouse my gunman. You'll pay for this. Hey, Paul, what's the shooting here? What's going on? Triggs, squint. Get this critter before he kills us all. He knows too much. I'll fix it. Why, you winged them both. Get up, you two. Get over there behind Ace and face the wall. Stay where you are, Ace. What's your game? Blackmail? Might be. You've made some very severe accusations, my friend. You've outshot my men. Yes, that's right. But you've offered no proof. I'm afraid you're only clever with a gun. That's too bad. Ace, perhaps you've forgotten the gunman you hired to shoot the railroad agent was a breed. You don't mean this is the breed. Where do you think I got my information? Why, you double-crossing breed, you were paid plenty for your work. The agreement was that you'd run over the border and stay there. Si, si. Ace, you're not a very good poker player. You've tricked me. That's all I wanted to hear. Wait, wait a minute. I know that I'm trapped. I'll pay. I'll pay you both. But mark my word, this is the last time I'm paying off on this thing. Ace, I can promise you this is the last time you'll see me. Breed, you've got no business coming back at me like this. If this hombre weren't so handy with a gun, I'd enjoy the pleasure of personally wringing your greasy neck. You're wasting time. Yes, so I am. Uh, will 2,000 do? Yeah, that should be all right. What do you think, Breed? Bueno. Hmm. I think I've got enough in this strong box to cover. That's fine. You know, stranger, I owe you an apology. So? I underestimated your capabilities. You're not only handy with a gun, you're smart, too. I admire a man who can outsmart Ace Brewster. Is that so? Yes. In fact, if you'd like to stay around town, I could use you. Go on. See, as soon as I'm elected sheriff, I expect to be expanding some of my, uh, activities. That's very interesting. Yes, with a lawman's badge on my chest, I'll be able to do much more than I have since young Tom Wilkins took office. That's Charlie's boy, you know. You sound confident about winning. I'll win hands down. What makes you so sure? I used a little political pressure. Got old Charlie parole yesterday. He'll be pulling into town any minute now. Oh? Well, when the law-abiding citizens discover their fine, upstanding young sheriff is the son of an ex-convict, I'm afraid they'll change their minds about re-electing him. I see. Hmm. Well, here's your money. Never mind. Well, what do you mean? Ish. You said you're expecting Charlie. Well, yes. Well, I wouldn't want you to be disappointed. What do you mean? Charlie, pull off that disguise. With pleasure. What? Charlie. Oh, it couldn't be. It's me, all right. Otto, Tom, come in here. Then where you are, Ace. See, what is this? What's going on? Ace, you and your two gunmen are under arrest. You've tricked me into this. You can't get away with it. Ace, you don't have to say any more. You've given me all the evidence I need. It looks as if your little scheme backfired. You're no good double-crossing owl hoot. Tom, you and your father can handle these three now. We sure can. Ace, I'm marching you and your gunmen right straight over to jail. And I'm going to see to it that you pay for the five years my pa served on that trumped-up manslaughter charge. This will also put an end to your local activities. You smooth-faced little upstart. You never would have caught me if it hadn't been for that masked man. Hey, Dan, where did the masked man as Indian go? I want to thank him for everything. It won't do you no good to try to thank them, too. What do you mean, Dan? Son, that masked man was the Lone Ranger. The Lone Ranger? That's right, son. And to think I tried to outsmart him. You have just heard is a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated.
