A fiery horse with a speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty hyo silver. The Lone Ranger. Faithful Indian companion Tonto, the daring and resourceful mask 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 big fellow. Are you still there? Two men sat on motionless horses on a high plateau, watching the plain below them as the great wagon train, winding its way like a long white serpent, moved slowly and majestically forward. From a distance it gave no hint of the flapping, billowing canvas, the straining horses and the sweating men, of tempers worn thin by anxiety and constant inconveniences, such as broken harness, shattered wheels, or injured horses, of eyes bloodshot and weary from stinging dust and continual vigilance. About fifty prairie schooners, carrying the worldly goods and the future hopes of many men, women, and children, made up the long line. But the two men watching from the plateau were thinking of something else. One of them finally voiced the thought to his companion. Me not savvy, why, wagon train. Not follow Butterfield Trail, Kimusabe. Them far south trails. Bad Indian territory. I was thinking about the same thing, Toto. A wagon train as large as that must have a guide, but no one who knows this country would bring them this way. Hmm, that right. I've noticed signs that indicate Indians have been around here recently. Ah, me see plenty signs. We'll follow the wagon train a while, Toto. By tomorrow afternoon, they should reach the Trinity River. Once across that, they'll be reasonably safe from attack. Well, let's get going. One, two, three. One, two, three. One time on the plain below, the cumbersome prairie schooners continued their southwestward course. Jet Banbury was a determined man, and as leader of the train ever on the alert, he rode beside Monroe, the guide, at the head of the wagons. Monroe, you're the guide for this here wagon train, and we've got to depend on you to get it safely through. But I don't mind telling you the men are mighty leery about this shortcut you recommended. A lot of them think we should have stuck to the Butterfield Trail. You hired me to guide this here wagon train, Jet, with the understanding that you'd abide by my decisions. This ain't the first train I brought this way, you know. All I know is what you tell me. I'm held responsible for this train. We've got women and children with us, and plenty of guns and ammunition and other stuff that redskins like to get hold of. Oh, stop worrying, Jet. The trouble with you is you listen too much to what others have to say. They've got a right to have their say. They've got themselves and their families to think about. Oh, swing them horses a little more to the left, Mary, and hurry them up a little. All right, Jet. Get up there. Get up. And I've got my own wife and my boy up there to see the lead wagon to think about too. Jet, every wagon train that's come west is taking the same chances as you were taking. Yeah, I guess you're right, Monroe. Later this afternoon, we'll come to those low-lying hills that you'll see in the distance. I'll ride on ahead now and do some scouting. I'll meet you later and tell you where to stop for the night. Now keep to the course you've been following, Jet. Adios. Bye. Get up. Jet, I've been listening to your talk with Mr. Monroe. Are you really worried about having trouble with Indians? I'd be worried about that no matter which way we came, Mary, so don't let us bother you none. Just let me do the worrying. I reckon we can trust Monroe. Keep them horses moving along. All right. Get up there. Get up. Get up now. As long as he was in sight of the wagon train, Monroe rode ahead along the course the train was to follow. Finally, he went from their side over a low rise. Then, swinging to the right, he urged his horse into a gallop. Get up. Come on. As he rode, he scanned the low hills ahead. Then, he smiled with satisfaction as he saw a thin column of smoke rising from a low hilltop. The smoke column broke momentarily into puffs, then once again continued to scream steadily skyward. In another 15 minutes, Monroe reached the hill and approached two men who waited near a smoldering fire. One was a half-breed Indian, the other a rough-looking white man. Ho, ho, ho. Hi, Blackie. Howdy, Monroe. This is Breed, our go-between with Chief Big Hawk's tribe. Glad to meet you, Breed. Put out that fire. No use taking chances. Someone in the wagon train spotting the smoke. All right. Scatter the fire, Breed. Ah, me fixed. Seem to be moving along right on schedule, Monroe. We've been getting reports of the train's progress from Big Hawk's scouts. Yeah, been keeping them moving right along. Had a bit of trouble getting them to swing down this way and leave the Butterfield Trail, but finally won out. They've been pretty nervous and jumpy ever since, though. You mean they're suspicious about you bringing them down this way? Oh, not exactly suspicious. They just figure that there's more of a chance of an Indian attack down this way. Yeah, they'll find out how right they are before long. Yeah. Got your gang ready in the hideout near the river? That's right. Now, be sure them wagons don't reach the Trinity early enough tomorrow afternoon to get across. Uh-huh. Fort Worth is on the other side and only about 30 miles down from where you aim to have them reach the river. I know that. I'll get them to camp for the night on this side of the river. Big Hawk and his Braves can attack just as they start circling the wagons. I promised Big Hawk the Indians could have all the guns and ammunition in the train, but me and the gang will move in after to do the looting. There'll be plenty of money and other valuable stuff in that train for the gang to grab. How many men they got? About 70, I reckon. The rest are women and kids. Big Hawk has about 200 Braves. I promised him all the fire water he wants, providing his Braves take the guns and leave the rest for us. He agreed to that, so it's all set up. I'll send Breed to tell Big Hawk to set up. The Indians can sweep in on him from the plains and the river will cut off any escape. Well, I better be getting back to the train now. Steady, fella. I'll see you tomorrow after the attack. Howdy, Oaks. Adios. Meantime, two others had seen the smoke signal. The Lone Ranger and Toto had left the plateau and after sighting the smoke signal, they rode to an adjacent hilltop and dismounted. Then, with the aid of a telescope, the masked man observed the three figures near the scattered fire. Two white men and an Indian, Toto. I wish I could hear what they're saying. Well, signal smoke stopped now. Yes, they've scattered the fire. One of them is wearing the fringe buckskin outfit of a scout or guide. Here, see for yourself. Oh. Ah, let me see him. You think maybe him come from wagon train, Kimo Sabe? Could be. Maybe the other two are advanced scouts and... Wait, Kimo Sabe, wait. Yes? Indian face this way now. Him wear war paint. Him not scout. Let me see. Hmm, yes, you're right. The scout is mounting to leave. Maybe we follow. See if him from wagon train... Wait, wait. He's riding away in the direction of the plane. I'm sure he's with that wagon train. What I'm anxious to know is where the other two came from and why he met them. You think maybe them plot against wagon train? It's possible. They're riding away now and in different directions. Let's go over there to that hill and pick up their trails. I'll follow the white man and you follow the Indian. and we'll meet here at sundown. Easy, steady, big fella. Easy, scout. Easy, fella. Come on, silver. Get him up, scout. Close it. Close, scouts. What, fella? The hoof marks are easy to see, Tonto. The tracks that go toward the hills to the west are the Indians. Those that go toward the river are those of the white man. I noticed the direction each took as I watched through the telescope. Me follow an Indian's trail. Come back and meet you on other hilltop at sundown. Good. But be careful, Tonto. I'll follow the trail that heads toward the river. Let's get started. Adios. Adios. Get him up, scout. Come on, silver. As the lone ranger moved along the route taken by the outlaw leader, Blackie, the trail passed between two low hills. Over the ridge of one of the hills, a pair of sinister eyes watched the masked man pass. Then, as the great white stallion and his rider disappeared from view over the next rise, a Comanche Indian in war paint rose from behind the sagebrush on the hilltop. A short time later, signal smoke puffed to the skies, sending a silent message ahead. Not long after, Blackie, the outlaw, pulled to a halt as three silent figures blocked his path. Blackie had pulled rain about 50 feet from the waiting intruders. They were Indians on ponies, and the outlaw's hand rested on his gun as he waited for a hostile move. Then, raising their hands in a sign of peace, the three Indians rode toward him. Indian braves belong Big Hawk tribe? Well, glad to hear it. For a minute, I was afraid you weren't with Big Hawk. Comanche, wait for White Chief. Bring message. Message from me? Ah. What is it? Smoke signal. Come from hills behind White Chief. Smoke tell Comanches. Man who wear mask. Ride white horse. Follow trail of White Chief. Ah, hey, hey. You mean some mask hombre's trailing me now? Ah. Him come soon. Comanches wait with White Chief. Kill men who wear mask. Hey, that's a good idea. We'll wait and ambush him. Ah. Boulders around, bend ahead. We go there. Wait. Soon him come. We go now. All right, lead the way. That mask hombre will sure be in for a surprise. Ah. All right, go on now. Let's get to the boulders. Get back. Get back. A short time later, the lone ranger rode along Blackie's trail. When the mask rider of the plains reached the place where Blackie had stopped a short time before, he scrutinized the ground carefully, then reined to a stop. Oh, Silver, whoa. Seems that three other horsemen joined that man here. Three who rode unshod horses. Probably Indians. We'll have a clear trail to follow now. Come on, Silver. Once more, the lone ranger moved forward. His keen eyes told him that the trail was quite fresh and he rode leisurely so that he wouldn't get too close to those he was following. As he approached the place where the trail turned, the great Silver raised his head high. His ears pointed forward and nostrils distended. The masked man pulled Silver to a halt. Hold it. Hold it. As the lone ranger watched, the intelligent horse stood a moment with nose held high. The slight breeze blowing down trail toward them had brought the scent of men and horses, the scent of danger. And Silver used the only means of communication he could to warn his master. The big white stallion softly pawed the ground, then whinnied softly. Danger ahead, huh, fella? Easy, Silver. The lone ranger dismounted, then walked cautiously forward until he caught a glimpse of the big boulders just around the bend. He stood and, shielded by the sagebrush, peered steadily at the boulders for a moment. His keen eyes caught the slight flutter of the top of a feather. Indians waiting in ambush. Somehow they discovered I was following. Retracing his steps, the lone ranger went back to Silver and mounted. Easy, fella, easy. We have to go off to the side and try to approach those boulders from another direction to take them by surprise. But just as he prepared to start, he heard definite indications that his presence had been discovered. Those Indians must have heard us. Here they come. I used to try to make a stand against them. Run, children! 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. Even before the Indians and Blackie appeared around the bend, the great horse Silver had sprung into action. Racing at top speed, he carried the lone ranger back along the trail, with the outlaw and the three Indians in hot pursuit. The lone ranger realized it was futile to make a stand against them at this time, since it was possible others might be in the vicinity. He swung off into the low-lying hills and urged Silver to greater speed in hopes of outrunning his pursuers. Faster, big fella, faster! Come on, children! For some time, Silver raced onward without slackening his pace, until finally the lone ranger decided he had lost Blackie and the Indians. Using every device of cunning he knew to cover his trail, the masked man headed back to the place where he was to meet Tonto. It was dusk when he arrived there and found Tonto waiting. Oh, Silver, oh, easy, steady, big fella. Hey, King, sorry. Hey. You ride hard. Ride long time. Yes. I almost rode into an ambush while following that white man. He met some Indians. The Silver warned me in time. I intended to sneak up on them, but they discovered I was there. It better you not try to fight them. I'm sure now the wagon train's in danger. That right. Me follow Indian from Hilltop. Him go to Valley, where plenty Comanche braves gather. Comanches, huh? Ah. Them have on war paint. Do war dance. That scout from the wagon train must be in on the plot. But maybe they plan to attack the pioneers after they've circled the wagon for the night. No, Kimisabe. Me not think that. No? Why not? Well, me wait and watch near Valley. After dance, Comanches, Mount Ponies, move through Valley to River. That means they'll wait until the train reaches the banks of the Trinity River tomorrow afternoon. That's what me think, Kimisabe. Tonto, there's only one thing to do. If one of us can get through and across the river, the troopers could be brought from Fort Worth. Well, me go. Me Indian. Maybe get through better than mask man. If the Comanches caught you, Tonto, they'd kill you. Well, me go. You watch wagon train. All right, Tonto. You have a long and treacherous journey ahead of you, but you must get through. Well, me try. I'll try to warn the wagon train. You better leave right now. Me go now. Adios, Kimisabe. Adios. Get a mask out. After Tonto left, the lone ranger rested a while. Then mounting silver, he set out in the growing darkness toward the wagon train. Meantime, the guide Monroe had rejoined the wagon train. And as dusk fell, he sat on his horse beside Jed Banbury as the others formed the wagons into a big circle on the plain. Move them closer together over there. Then get those horses unhitched and put them in the center of the circle. Well, Jed, next time we stop, we'll be on the banks of the Trinity River. I'm hoping we can reach the Trinity in time to get across tomorrow afternoon. Do you think we can, Mr. Monroe? Well, that depends, ma'am. No use wearing the horses out to do it, though. Easy now, boy. Well, looks like things are pretty well set. Here, let me help you down, Mary. All right. Thank you. Oh, it's good to stretch. The boy is plum tuckered out. He's sound asleep inside the wagon. Well, I'll let the little fellow sleep, Mary, till you get supper ready anyway. I'll go start getting the vittles ready now. Oh, I see the men have fire started. Why don't you dismount and stretch a while, Monroe? Yeah, I might as well. Easy, boy. Tell me, did you see any signs of Indians anywhere ahead? No, nary a sign, Jed. Jed, we've been mighty lucky so far. Yep, I reckon we have at that. Once we get across the Trinity, I hear tell there's little danger. That's right. You did a mighty good job of guiding, Monroe. Reckon we were wrong about not wanting to take this shortcut after all. I'm glad you feel that way, Jed. I better go look things over and make sure that everything's been done right. See you later, Jed. Sure. It was midnight and very dark when the Lone Ranger rode cautiously across the prairie toward the encircled wagons. He planned his approach so that the wind was coming from the wagon train toward him so as to eliminate the possibility of dogs in the wagon encampment or any of the horses catching the scent of him and Silver and becoming restless. Finally, when he was as close as he dared to ride, he dismounted. Oh, Silver. Oh, easy, sir. The leading silver ground hitched moved forward on foot. He hoped in some way to locate the lead wagon and warn the leader about the hostile Indians ahead. The dim glow of a lantern filtering through the canvas of one of the wagons attracted his attention and he silently moved up alongside. Jed and Monroe were talking inside the wagon. How have we started? Just the Trinity in the early afternoon, don't you think? Jed, like I said before, the best thing to do is to plan to camp for the night on this side of the river. Of course, this would be too tired to attempt getting the wagons across when we reach there. Doggone it, I'll feel much safer if we do get across. Ah, there's no need to be jumpy about Indians now, Jed. I told you I rode on ahead this afternoon. There wasn't any sign of them anywhere. That must be the scout we saw in that hill. Well, I guess your advice has got us through this far, so no use in not following it further. Please, Jed, put out that lantern so they can get some sleep. All right, Mary. Monroe and I will go check things. Come on, Monroe, I'll carry the lantern with them. As the two men started to leave the covered wagon, the lone ranger crouched down in the shadows. His first impulse was to face them and let Jed know Monroe was lying. Then he changed his mind. The thing seems to be quiet. Yeah. It's a plenty dark night. I reckon the guards are on their toes. Look, I'll circle to the right, you circle to the left and check on them. Yep. I'll see you shortly, Jed. Right. As Jed holding the lantern turned to leave, a low voice behind him halted him in his tracks. Wait a minute, Jed. What the... A mask on, Ray? Don't go for your gun and talk low. All right. You got the drop on me. What's this all about? I came as a friend, Jed. Are you the leader of the wagon train? Yes. I heard you talking in the wagon. The man with you was lying. There are hostile Indians ahead, plenty of them, and he knows it. I suspect he's in on a plan to trap you. I don't believe you. You come here to rob us, but you won't get away with it. Help! Help, everybody! Help! You'll find out I spoke the truth. Hey, come back. I'll gun you. Can't say I didn't try, silly big fella. All that night, under cover of the darkness, the Lone Ranger rode toward the river. Since his effort to warn Jed Banbury had failed, he decided to be ready and waiting to help the pioneers when the wagon train reached the Trinity River. He arrived at the river at dawn, and finding a place of concealment near the riverbank, he prepared to rest and wait. The afternoon came, and from his hiding place, the masked man scanned the countryside. Everything seemed peaceful, but knowing the ways of Indians, he felt sure that the low-lying hills along the river held danger for the train. At last, he heard the heavy prairie schooners approaching, and he watched tensely as they reached the large clearing at the river and started in a large circle. As the last wagon came into view and before the circle was completed, the nearby hills suddenly became alive with howling, frenzied savages as they came down the hillside on their ponies. The Lone Ranger quickly mounted Silver and raced toward the wagon. Jed Banbury, who sat on his horse beside Monroe near the lead wagon, turned in fury toward the guide as the Indians started forward. Indians? You led us into a trap. I was warned. You haven't got a chance, Jed. I'll finish you right now. No! Oh, Silver, go. Easy. Show him go for his gun. The masked man. You saved me from his bullet. I should have listened to you. No time for talking now. Finish circling the wagons quick. Pull up those wagons. Get them in a circle. Quick! Put out that fire. Watch for flaming arrows. One, two, three. Swinging wide, the Comanches circled the wagon train, gradually coming closer and closer. The pioneers rallied by the commanding voice of the masked man and the shouted orders from Jed fought back desperately in spite of the fact they were greatly outnumbered. The Lone Ranger seemed to be everywhere at once, inspiring confidence in not only the men but in the women who huddled behind the wagons to reload the guns as fast as they were fired. There's hundreds of them. We haven't got a chance. Don't give up. Keep fighting. Arrows flew thick and fast and more wagons burst into flames. For a moment, the Lone Ranger thought of Tonto and he tried to rid himself of the idea that his brave Indian companion had fallen victim to the Comanches as he tried to get through to Fort Worth. If he had reached the fort, he should have been back before now with the troopers. There was no time now for grief or regrets and once more, the Lone Ranger put his mind to holding off the Comanches. Then he heard it, the sound of a distant bugle and then he saw the troopers riding hard down along the river. They must have crossed up above here. They're on this side. When the Comanches saw the troopers, they fought back for a few minutes then broke for the hills with the troopers in hot pursuit. Oh, Jeff, the troopers, thank heaven. Why, Thunder, I don't know what brought him here, but we were almost done for. Hey, here comes another redskin. Oh, wait, he's a friend. Tonto, I was worried. We have plenty of trouble getting through. We come plenty fast. None too soon. Troopers find another white fellow with half-breed, put men to guard him, hold him to question. Good. I'm sure we'll find that they were in on the plan with the guide. He's wounded and also a prisoner. Let's go talk to him. The men will finish him off if they find out. Here he is, the ornery coyote. We'll turn him over to the troopers. They'll take care of him. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. The Indian here told me about you, mister. Captain, if it hadn't been for this masked man, we'd have all been killed. He rallied the men and fought like a wildcat. He tried to warn Jed last night, but Jed wouldn't listen. Captain, Todd and I saw this guide meet with another man at a half-breed yesterday. Then the other white man met three Comanches and tried to ambush me when I followed him. It wasn't my idea. Blackie planned it. Him and his gang was to loot the wagon train. We caught the others, and we'll take this man along, too. The Comanches have been beaten, and those that are lapped, round it up. Good. Todd and I shall be near in case of more trouble, Jed. Fine. We'll get our horses now. Come, Todd. All right. You sure saved us, kid, man. Thanks a lot. Thank you a lot. Adios, man. Oh, he's wonderful. Why, if it hadn't been for him... And I think I almost shot him last night. Captain, who is he, do you know? The Indian told me that he's the Lone Ranger. One, two, three, four. This is a feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated, created and produced by George W. Trendle, directed by Charles D. Livingston, and edited by Fran Stryker. A part of the Lone Ranger is played by Brace Beamer. Brace Beamer.
