A fiery horse with a speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty high old silver, the Lone Ranger. 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. Come on, still there. Let's go, big fellow. Are you still there? It was two months after the Custer Massacre and the Dakota Badlands swarmed with hostile Sioux. In the heart of that dangerous region, a recent cloudburst had left a pool of water standing in a narrow canyon. There, the leading wagon and the supply train bound for Deadwood was mired to its hubs. As the bullwhackers fumed and eight teams of oxen strained vainly to free the big Conestoga, Captain Anson Mills, commander of a small cavalry escort, watched from his horse. His face was grim when he spoke. Sergeant, this place is a death trap. Yes, sir. We're sure goners of the Sioux fighters, sir. No good, Captain. We're stuck for fair. Lighten your load. One that's to throw off the oil barrels. They're the heaviest freight. Unload them. Pass that order to the other wagons. Sergeant, have the detachment help those bullwhackers. Yes, sir. Detachment dismounted. Come in, get busy. Well, I joined the army to fight, not freight. You should have been with Custer. Now hop to it. This is all Cold War Jenny Rockefeller's fault. Sergeant, look up the canyon. Last man in the engine, sir. Riding like fury. What's it mean? I don't know, sir. Hold it, hold it, hold it. Who's in command here? I am, sir. Who are you? Why are you masked? Never mind that. They're Indians up the canyon. Indians? How many? At least 500. They may not know you're here, but they're headed this way. We can't outrun them. Our horses are spent. Let's block the canyon with wagons and make a stand, sir. Let's storm the wagons on foot or shoot you from the Rimrock. Ask the Sioux to learn how to fight the army. Oh, what's in those barrels? Oil. Oil for the machines and lamps in the Deadwood gold mines. Thousands of gallons of it. And me with 12 men. Let it be, Captain. We can stop the Sioux. How, mister? How? Roll every barrel downhill to the water. Dump part of the oil into this pool. Stand the barrels on end to form a barricade. Then cut the oxen loose and set fire to the oil. Yes, I get it now. Prairie bread Indian ponies panic at the sight of fire. That oil will burn long enough to give us an hour's head start. Get those barrels up here, Sergeant. Yes, sir. All barrels to the front on the double. Kimo, Sabe. Look up on Rimrock. Man on horse. Now I'm gone. Those were signal shots. Indians know now that we're here. Maybe him scouts for Sioux. Let him sit on horse like white man. More barrels up here. Keep rolling. Come on, Toto. Where are you going? Back up the canyon to those big boulders. We'll have to delay the Indians if they show up before the barricade is finished. But you're only two against 500. The Indians can't know our exact strength. A few shots from behind those rocks will make them cautious. If we pile the barrels up, you'll never get back over them. Leave an opening where there's only a single tier of barrels. Start the fires at the sides. Even with a single tier, the flames will leap high. We'll start back as soon as we see a blaze. Then we'll have to take our chances. All right. Come on, Toto. Let's go. We've got perfect cover here, Toto. And maybe it's a good thing. We hear plenty of horses in the canyon. Here they come. Steady, Silver. We see them now. Them belong to Ogallala Sioux tribe. And they're crazy horses, brave. Them see soldiers. No, Toto, no. That stop one's in front. Put warriors behind. Push on. See what the soldiers are doing. Them got barrels piled up. Now they knock heads out of some. Now barrels catch fire. Captain stand on top. Him wave hat. Him jump. Fire, shoot high inside. Then come on. Our horses can hurl the low part of the barrier. Come on, Toto. With a blazing barricade ahead of them and a horde of howlings too close behind, the Lone Ranger and Toto race for their lives. Come on. Get a mask. From some of the bullet punctured barrels, jets of blazing fluid played into the pool. Flames licked out over the oil-coated water and black smoke rolled up in a choking cloud. At the sight of the fiery roadblock, the Indian ponies reared up squealing. The warriors themselves stared in dismay at the spectacle of burning water and the masked man and Toto gouted their horses into the pool. Come on, Rick Toto. The Lone Ranger's great white stallion gathered himself with a jump. All right, up. A soaring leap, a flash of silver hooves that he and his rider were over. Then Toto put Scout over the flaming hurdle. They were just in time. Instantly to the flames, closed in behind them. A cheer burst from Captain Mills and his cavalrymen as the two men rolled up. Oh, silver hooves! Oh! Thank heavens you've had made it. Look at that fire now, sir. The arrows are blowing up. Flames are as high as the canyon walls. Well, Captain, you and your men are safe now. The Indians can't get out of the canyon in time to head you off. They won't be able to pass that fire before you're out of reach. We owe you our lives. If there's anything... There isn't, sir. All Toto and I ask is a chance to be of service. Then you'd better return with us to Fort Laramie. I happen to know General Sheridan needs someone to carry out a dangerous and delicate mission. Very well, sir. Let's get started. Detachment at the truck! Forward! Forward! Forward! Forward! General Philip H. Sheridan heaved his bulky body from a chair and stood face to face with the Lone Ranger and Captain Mills. For a moment, he tugged at his mustache, studying the masked man. Then he pointed to an empty saber sheath which lay on his desk. Sir, that scabbard belonged to General Custer. I want Custer's saber recovered. In view of what Captain Mills has told me of your conduct in the face of great odds, I think you're the one man in the West who stands any chance of getting back that sword. General Sheridan, just why do you want it back? It's a point of honor with the Army. No general of the regular forces ever before lost his sword to the Indians. Indians are worthy enemies. But I can see how sitting bull or some crafty medicine man could use it to play on tribal superstitions and get the Indians to fight again. Fortunately, sitting bull doesn't have it. Prisoners tell us that when the spoils of battle were divided, the sword fell to Crazy Horse, who's strictly a war chief. He can be found. Then you'll undertake the mission? Yes, I will, sir. I want to keep the Sioux War from spreading. Several weeks later, the Lone Ranger and Tonto rode into Slim Butte's Pass with a six-horse pack train. At the scene of the Battle of the Oil Barrels, they had picked up the trail of the Ogallala Sioux only to lose it as they pushed farther into the Black Hills, the holy land of the Dakota Indians. Tonto, who guided the pack animals, was saying, Kimasabi. Yes? Horses act. Let them know this place. They were bred here. This is where the Mori Ranch ranges its stock. Oh. Now, how do we get horses from Army? I picked them out of the remount herd because they didn't bear the United States brand. Captain Mill said they'd been commandeered from the Mori spread. Oh, he's savvy. Look out, Tonto, pull up. Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, look at that horse break loose. Let me get him. No, wait, Tonto, wait. Let him go. That horse knows the herd trails around here may lead through the hills by another route. We'll follow it. Thomas Morey paced the floor of his ranch house. A big-bodied man, he made a striking figure with his flaming beard which he wore trimmed in the imperial style. He seemed to be paying no attention to his guest, Ben Wade, who had just arrived from Deadwood. Wade ventured a question. Say, Morey, what are you gripping those ore specimens for? I'm Major Morey, do you, sir? Don't forget I was a staff officer under General McClellan, Maximilian of Mexico, and Napoleon III, an expert swordsman. I'm gripping the ore to keep my hands in shape to use a saber. Oh, I forgot about you being a swordsman. I was schooled by Maitre de Chauvin in a cell d'arm in Paris. Paris. I'm going back there when this western adventure is over. It won't be over soon. That's why I'm here. I've been instructed to tell you to keep the Sioux on the war path for another six months, a year. That's a big order. The big men in the syndicate have fixed things in Washington, so we'll get a grant of a million acres of land around here. Wade, the Indians are too short of ammunition to continue fighting. What's worse, Crazy Horse is getting hard to handle. I thought he trusted you. He doesn't trust any white man. He knows we have some hidden purpose for helping his people, but he respects my knowledge of military science. That's my only hold on him. Well, the syndicate's sending a packet load of new Winchesters and cartridges up the Missouri River. Well, that's good news. Yeah. Where's Crazy Horse now? Quarter in a big cave where the horse herd used to go in winter. I moved them there last month. That was when we ran into that supply train. Tell the chief about that arm shipment as soon as possible. He might take a notion to head for Canada with Sitting Bull. We'll see him tonight. I hear someone outside. What's the matter, Sam? Major, the masked man and the minion just ready to come through the pass. The masked man, call your gang together and head them off. Deep in the cavern where the Sioux had taken refuge, a council fire burned high. The great war chief Crazy Horse had the place of honor. He drew on an empty pipe as two moons rose and addressed him. Great chief, the Sioux and Cheyennes are scattered. We hide in a hole like hunted coyotes. Our stomachs and our guns are empty. And there is nothing left to smoke in the council pipe. Not even a shred of willow bark. We win battles, but the white men win the wars. I have spoken. What Two Moons says is true. But we will fight again. Our friend Redbeard has promised us more rifles and many bullets. He is a great warrior. Let us be patient. Win up, win up, win up, win up. My people have found a pack horse. Great chief, this pony comes into cave. It carries much tobacco. It is a gift from Juan Tanka, our father and the son. It is a trick. My brothers, I see nothing but a trader's horse and goods. Okay, hey, our people are all here. No one watches at the mouth of the cave. Hobo, Hobo, go back. Look, great chief. Two men are coming with more pack ponies. One is an Indian. The other is a white man with a mask. They are trapped. Let us kill them. 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. The Lone Ranger and Tonto were trapped in a cave to which their quest for General Custer's sword had taken them. As hundreds of Sioux Braves closed in, the masked man tried to speak but his voice was drowned and yelled. And the great war chief Crazy Horse sprang from the council fire and confronted his people, arm upraised in the sign of peace. Hobo, get away. Hey, Chief Wicco, my Indian friend and I have come in peace. Let the white stranger say how he reached this cave and what he wants. We followed our runaway pack horse we're here to trade. This chief has seen many traders. None wore a mask. Great chief, all trading with hostile Sioux has been outlawed by the white men. Let the strangers dismount. Join us at council fire. Good. Let me bring it. Great chief, your council pipe is empty. Here, let me fill it. Take it. Now, this tobacco is good. There. Now, let me light it. Very good. We have enough of it to fill the pipes of all your people many times. My people have little left to trade for it. We have been driven from our hunting grounds. But you have taken much loot from the pony soldiers. Another trader got watches, rings, and paper money we took that little bighorn. It is told that Yellowhair had a sword mounted with silver and gold. This chief took two long knives that day. One belonged to Yellowhair. The other was his brothers. Oh, let me see them. Pull out on my doggy. Squaw will bring them. The great chief is obeyed. Come on. Oh, no. Here's the squaw with long knives. Fake white man. Nice. Names of General Custer and Captain Tom Custer are engraved on the blades. Great chief, they are worth everything I brought you. Manita, you have traded much for little. The great chief, who are these men? Major, one of them is best. The best? Masked man again. I didn't know that we had met before. Great chief, these men are spies for the army. Tell your warriors to seize them. They cannot escape. How do you know that they are spies? They are with the soldiers in the canyon. They jumped their horses over the burning barricade. This chief was there. He did not see a masked man. You were in the canyon and his back was turned to you. If I was on the ledge, you could look down and see his face. How did he manage to find this cave? He said he followed a runaway pack pony. This chief believes him. I believe that too. Those pack horses are some that the men of the 2nd Cavalry commandeered when they passed through my range right after Little Bighorn. I recognize that blue roan. My friend Redbeard could be mistaken about a horse. Great chief, we are not spies. If we were, we wouldn't have come into this cave. We knew you were here and could have gone away without being seen. Then the soldiers could have taken you by surprise. That is so. They wanted to see how many warriors were here and how well they were armed. This chief cannot decide the matter. I fold my arms and leave it for you white men to find out. That means a duel, I suppose. I have heard that white men use long knives to settle arguments. Let the stranger give Redbeard one of those I traded to him. Very well. There's a saber, Redbeard. It's too good a blade to use on a snooping polecat like you. The life of the man who loses will belong to the man who wins. I, Tashanko Whitcoe, have spoken. Hello. Here, please. Look here, Major. We ought to give the chief the good news right now. No, Wade. It'll go over better with him after he sees what I can do with a saber. All right. Here, Tonto. Take my gun. Now, Redbeard, get rid of yours. Don't worry, I won't need it. Here, Wade. All right, Major. Great chief, I lift my sword to you, and I lift mine. Now, watch me. As he spoke, the renegade swung his saber high above his head in a muscle-flexing movement. The singing blade cut a circle in the firelight, and he rose on tiptoe as though pulled upward by the glittering gyrations. Still keeping the steel of whirl, he passed it around his body and between his legs, then brought it to the salute with a final flourish. The sous-brae was pressed forward, eyes gleaming with excitement, and even the stolid crazy horse appeared awed. But the Lone Ranger remained impassive, his own sword in a guard position. Maury gave him a wolfish grin. Well, fellow, what do you think of your chance of living? On guard, Redbeard. On guard it is. Blades crossed. The Lone Ranger and Maury swayed back and forth, the muscles of their backs rippling as each strove to keep the other from disengaging. Still sneering at his adversary, the soldier of fortune called a crazy horse. Look, great chief, I'm about to cut this spy to pieces. Sue fashion. Quiet. There's a thrust in tears. Now turn your blade. Oh, you do know swordsmanship. So much the better. Suddenly, Maury pivoted like a dancing master. His blade flicked out. The masked man sidestepped, but he was late. Too late. The point of the freebooter's saber caught him high on the shoulder. Touché! I could kill you with a corn cutter. A scratch doesn't kill. Maury fainted and essayed another thrust of the masked man's heart, but it was caught and parried. Then the offensive changed. The renegade put into play every trick of the trained swordsman, but step by step the Lone Ranger forced him back. No, you don't. I'll catch you yet. Not with the saber. As Maury fell back breathing hard, the draft in the mouth of the cave whipped up the council fire. Smoke enveloped the duelists. Half-blinded the masked man failed to see a signal which Maury passed to his confederate Ben Wade. I'm out of that smoke. I'll give you time. I'm coming. Now! At that instant, Wade pushed a piece of firewood between the Lone Ranger's legs. He tripped, lost his balance, fell forward on hands and knees. Maury sprang forward, his saber glittering above his head, his red beard redder stealing firelight. He poised himself with a death stroke. Here it comes, spy! Out of the crowd of Indians, a great white horse came rearing and threshing. It was silver! A silver whose rolling eyes and flaring nostrils becaught in his deadly rage. The warriors gave way in panic and as the circle opened, the big stallion leaped and landed astride his fallen master. Maury fell back, his saber still upraised. Wade! Wade! Grab that horse! Get it away! Not me, Major! I can't get at that spy! He's getting up! I am up! Good boy, silver! Now back! Back, big fella! Watch him, Tonto! What are you doing? If it hadn't been for that horse! On guard! Hard quest again, Maury dropped halfway to his knees. From that position, he aimed a terrible lunge at the lower part of the masked man's body. It was a foul thrust known as the coup de Jarnoc. The home ranger turning sideways evaded the steel. The point ran into one of his empty holsters and for a moment the tough leather held it. Its own saber slid down the free booter's blade, meshing its point in the hand guard. In vain, Maury tried to disengage. The sword flew upward, torn from his grip by a twist of the masked man's wrist. It fell at Crazy Horse's feet. Great chief, save me. He has a sword in my throat. I promise a loser's life to the man who won. I do not break my word. Great chief, think of what I have done and can do for you. Redmond, I thought you were a great warrior, but I was mistaken. Hear me! In a few sleeps from now, a shipload of arms and ammunition will reach us. This chief will not listen anymore. You speak with a crooked tongue. Why, you miserable redskin, Wade, Wade. Here's your gun, Major. Come on, he won't use his sword. I don't need it. I've got that gun. Drop it or I'll break your arm. If I can't get you, I'll kill that double-crossing crazy horse. Watch out, chief. Oh, I'm shot. Major, you shot me. I've got the gun now. Stand still. So I missed crazy horse and hit Wade. Well, he got me into this. Otto, look after Wade. He already looked he was happy. Him dead. Great chief, I'm going to take Redbeard away. He is yours. But this chief does not understand why you do not kill him now. He will die later. You are a mighty man with a long knife. You are my friend. Hereafter, my people will know you by the name Man for whom the horse fights. It is good to be a friend of the great chief. Now let me show you a silver bullet from my gun belt. Look well at it. Oh, there must be good medicine in it. Any white man who shows you such a bullet from now on can be trusted. This chief sees and believes. Good. Otto, get the horses. Come on, Maury. So you know me. You betrayed yourself tonight. You're going to Fort Laramie. That's better than being left with crazy horse now. If it hadn't been for those cursed sabers... Take them up by the ends of the blades and hand them to me. All right. Why, this was General Custer's sword. The Lone Ranger returned to General Sheridan's headquarters and the swords of the Custer brothers lay on the commander's desk. The masked man stood by silently while Captain Mills reported the latest developments in the Maury case. The captain was saying, We've sent out a company of cavalry to raid Maury's ranch. He himself is in the guardhouse. He's made a confession stating that a gold mining syndicate financed his activities as a gunrunner and troublemaker among the Sioux. We'll go into that later. And now, masked man, I'd like to know just where you found Crazy Horse and his band. You wouldn't find him there now, sir. He'd be on the move from now on. He's short of food and ammunition. I'm prepared to throw 5,000 men into the field against him. General Sheridan, there's no need to waste the lives of your soldiers or exterminate the Sioux. What do you mean? I'm confident, sir, Crazy Horse will surrender. If he is approached by a man he can trust and fair terms are offered to him. There's the rub, sir. Crazy Horse isn't likely to trust anyone who has the authority to treat with him. I can help you in that, General Sheridan. Here, take this bullet. Hmm. A silver bullet. Anyone who shows it to Crazy Horse will be accepted as a friend. Indeed. Then we shall follow your advice. Now, let me present you with the reward which the officers of this department raise for the return of the sword. It's a considerable sum. I want you to turn it over to the families of the men who fell with Custer. All I ask, sir, is the privilege of restoring the saber to its scabbard. There they are, sir. I have them. There, General. The saber is back where it rested before Custer drew it at Little Bighorn. It should never be unsheathed again. What do you think, Captain Mills? I fully agree with him, sir. A masked man, I... Why, he's gone. So he is. Er, Captain, can you tell me who he is? The silver bullet identifies him, sir. He's the Lone Ranger. I'll do it! This is a copyrighted feature originated by George W. Trendle and directed by Charles D. Livingston. The part of The Lone Ranger is played by Brace Beamer.
