fiery horse with a speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty hi-o-silver, the Lone Ranger. The 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. Hi-o, Silver. Hi-o. Three men lounged on the porch of the First Call Cafe just outside the limits of the Fort Wade Military Reservation. One was the barrel-chested proprietor, Card Wilkins. His companions, nondescript characters, generally known as Spud and Rip. The cafe keeper scowled at them as he said. Fellas, this cafe isn't worth the potter we'd take to blow it up. They used to trim the soldiers out of plenty of money on paydays. Yeah, they're getting suspicious of my poker games. A lot of them won't play anymore. Of course, I did slick ace Bill Evans and Hank Parrish out of $100 last night. That don't happen often. Yeah, but even so, Card, this place makes good cover for us between stage holders. Spud, we've overplayed our hands in the hold-up game, too. Wells Fargo Company says it isn't going to ship any more gold out of Valley City by stage. Then we'll try something else. When's the next payday at the fort? Yeah, next Friday. The dispatch rider stopped here yesterday. He told me that Major Hayes, the paymaster for this military district, is at Fort Hobart now. He's due here late Thursday. Let's hold up the pay wagon. Yeah, it'd take more than the three of us to pull that kind of a job. There's always a cavalry escort with a wagon. But I think, yeah, I'm sure that we could get to the money after it reaches the fort. There's a thousand men there. That's why the paymaster figures the money is perfectly safe. I've heard the soldiers say that he stays overnight in the quartermaster's office, keeping the cash with him and checking the payroll. He only has one guard, a sentry who stands point duty outside the office. What about the other sentries? They walk posts outside the fort. Up until ten o'clock at night, they don't haul any soldiers because all the fellows at the fort are off duty until taps. And we could slip in and out between dark and taps if we had soldier uniforms on. Right. And I've got some uniforms stored away. I bought them from discharged soldiers and took them in on debts. Then we're all set. Not so loud. Here comes Sergeant Art Carey. Looks like he's got his dander up. Howdy, Sergeant. I'm not a sergeant any longer. I was discharged today. What are you aiming to do now? Something I couldn't do before without blackening my army record. What do you mean? Cards, you cheated two of my soldier friends out every cent they had last night. You can't prove I cheated them. I know your tricks. I've seen you deal cards from the bottom of the deck. So what? So I'm here to get their money back for them and knock your ears down. Now shell out or square off. Look here, fella, you can't... Rip, you and Spud, stay out of this. I want the fun of lambasting this smart aleck alone. Watch this. As he spoke, Card Wilkins swung a wild ride at Art Carey's head. The ex-sergeant ducked and the cafe keeper's fist slid over his shoulder. Then they grappled. I'll tear you apart. Fight with your fist, you child. The two men swayed back and forth across the porch with the cafe keeper clawing, gouging, and kicking. Rip was yelling. Kill him, Card. At that moment, the lone ranger and Tonto turned their horses into the military road a short distance from the first call cafe. They had skirted Fort Wade and were headed for the neighborhood of Valley City, intending to investigate the many recent stage holdups. As they approached the cafe, Tonto pointed. Look, Kimasabi. Two fellas fight. One soldier. Yes, pull up. Hold up. Hold up. Hold up, fella. Hold up. And what we do? Nothing unless there's an attempt at gunplay. The soldier's winning in spite of the other man's foul way of fighting. Take your teeth into it, Card. Go for it, guys. Breaking away from the cafe keeper, Carey drove a hard uppercut to his jaw. Wilkins measured his length of the porch floor. The ex-sergeant stepped back, giving him a chance to get to his feet and renew the battle. But the crook only lifted himself on one hand. With the other, he jerked a six-gun from inside his shirt. Now, you old cat died. Drop that gun. Those of us easy, tiny big foot. Look, a masked man underneath him. Don't shoot, Card. They got us covered. Drop that gun, I said. There it goes. If this is a hole... It isn't. My mask doesn't make me an outlaw. Well, I simply wanted the sergeant to get fair play. Thanks, mister. You and the redskin got here just in the nick of time. You two bystanders. Keep your hands frozen. Sergeant, you'd better take all of their guns and give them to me. Right. I'll leave them a hundred yards down the trail. I'll get him. What caused the trouble here? I care. He tried to rob me. I only tried to recover some money. Two of my friends lost to him in a crooked card game. Now that I have their guns, I'll take it. Hold on, sergeant. Whether that fellow was a crook or not, you'll be arrested for robbery if you take any money from him. I reckon you're right, mister. Anyhow, I had the satisfaction of licking him. Yeah, and you'll pay for it, Kerry. Keep still, or I'll punch you again. Here, mister, take the guns. Right. I have them. Where are you going? To the fort? No, I'm out of the army. I was headed for Valley City when I stopped here. I intended outfit in town and prospect on Caravan Creek. Caravan Creek? Oh, I reckon I shouldn't have told that in front of Cod Wilkins and his cronies. I never mentioned my plans before. So if I get dry, else you tell the sheriff who to look for. Easy. Send a big fellow. Easy, Scott. Easy, fella. If you want to ride double with me, I'll take you most of the way to Valley City. Oh, thanks, mister. Being an old cavalryman, I'd rather ride any fashion than walk. All right, up you go. I'm ready. Come on. Get him up. Just come. As the Lone Ranger dropped the guns on the trail and passed from sight with the ex-sergeant and Tonto, Cod Wilkins got to his feet. Rubbing his jaw, he rasped... Why didn't you fellas help me? You told us to stay out of it. Hey, what's this thing I just picked up from the floor? You know that? It's one of those ribbon soldiers wearing their blouses. Let me have it. Yeah, there you are. Must have pulled it from Kerry's coat. What does it stand for? Yeah. This is the ribbon for a medal granted to Kerry by a special act of Congress. They say that no enlisted man except Kerry ever won that medal. How'd he win it? I don't know, but I've thought of a way to make this ribbon hang, Art Kerry. Maybe the masked man and the engine, too. And you're thinking too fast for me. First off, we'll report to the provost marshal at the fort that Kerry and the other two hombres tried to rob us. Then, when we go after the army payroll, this is what we'll do. Meanwhile, Art Kerry had fast become a friend of the Lone Ranger and Tonto. As the horses protted along toward town, he told of his adventurous military career. The masked man looked back at him and commented. Where are a good many campaign ribbons? The one farthest to the left is for the Sioux War. The one next to it means that I was in the N'Posay expedition. And this... Posay, I've lost the ribbon that shows I was decorated with a medal. Of course, I still have the medal, so it doesn't matter much. Perhaps you lost it during your fight at the cafe. Likely I did. It was on my blouse when I was mustered out. But I'm not going back. I'd like to look for it. What medal do you hold, Art? It's a special medal granted by Congress for my work in fighting against the Sioux. I congratulate you. The army needs men like you. You should have remained in the service. Maybe you're right, mister. But I can always re-enlist. Parting company with the Lone Ranger and Tonto in a gulch outside Valley City, ex-Sgt. Kerry soon reached the town. He was unable to find satisfactory pack animals until the following Thursday. Then, having bought two mules and loaded them with mining gear and supplies, he returned to the gulch and found the masked man, an Indian, still there. At the Lone Ranger's invitation, Kerry camped with them. That night, as the three friends sat beside a fire, Card Wilkins and his fellow crooks slipped through the guard lines at Fort Wade, clad in cavalry uniforms. They cat-footed to the corner of the quartermaster's building, pulling yellow neckerchiefs over their faces. Then Card, who was in the lead and carried an iron stake used to picket horses, halted them. Hey, there's the sentry. Before I knock him out, I want to make sure the season hears us. I know what to say. All right, then come on. The sentry's turned his head. Oh, who goes there? Get him, Kerry. Oh! Yeah, it takes care of him. All right, you fellas stay back while I pull down my neckerchief and call the paymaster at the door. Right. Who's there? Uh, the sergeant of the guard. I have a message for you from Colonel Esterly. Well, let me have it. Colonel's compliments. There you are. Yeah, I fixed him. All right, come on inside. Hey, is he? Sure he's dead. I'll grab those sacks of money from the table. All right. Now I'll upset some of the furniture. Put Art Kerry's honor ribbon in the paymaster's hand. I said I'd fix him. An hour later, Captain Hoyt, the provost marshal, reported the murder of the paymaster and theft of the payroll to Colonel Esterly at post headquarters. He was saying... After the sentry came to, he said that he'd been attacked by three men who wore masks and uniforms. He claimed that one of the killers called another one Kerry. Kerry? Yes, sir. I then investigated the quartermaster's office. Was in a state of disorder indicating that Major Hayes put up a hard fight for his life. In his right hand, he clutched the ribbon of the special service medal. No one holds that honor in this part of the West except Art Kerry. Hard to believe that he would commit robbery and murder. He was a good soldier. Good soldiers often turn bad men as soon as they are discharged. I suppose the sudden release from discipline has something to do with it. What's Kerry been doing since he was discharged? Card Wilkins told me today that Kerry and two other outlaws tried to hold up the first call cafe on Tuesday. He described one of the others as wearing a mask. The third bandit was an Indian, he said. Probably the same outlaws were with him tonight. I have no doubt of it. I told Wilkins that I could do nothing in the case of the attempted robbery because his cafe was outside the military reservation and Kerry had been discharged. Boots and saddles are sounding. The men will be ready to ride in a few minutes. Issue rations for a week. Divide the regiment into 50 patrols. Scour this district from end to end, but bring in Kerry, the mask man, and the Indian. It was early the next morning when the lone ranger, Tottle, and Art Kerry broke camp. The ex-sergeant left for Lonely Caravan Creek with his pack mules, while Tottle rode off to Valley City to buy supplies. Soon the Indian galloped back with news of the army payroll murder, which he had heard in town. Without dismounting, he gave the lone ranger the details, including the fact that a masked man and Indian were wanted as accomplices of Kerry. That mean us, Kemosabe. Me hear the fellows at cafe say, Kerry and us try to rob place. Tottle, he was with us last night, so we know that he's as innocent as we are. His honor ribbon was planted in a murdered man's hand for all victims of a frame-up. Did anyone question you in town? No. No plenty Indian around there. Nobody paid attention to me. Here, Silver. And what we do? Hard Wilkins has a grudge against Kerry and us. It's likely that he tore off Kerry's honor ribbon during the fight and built the frame up around it. We'll go after him and his men and try to get the truth out of them. Me ready. The first call cafe. Easy, silly, big fella. Come on, sit there. I'll just come. The curtain falls on the first act of our lone ranger adventure. Before the next exciting scenes, please permit us to pause for just a few moments. Now to continue. Suspected of taking part in the murder of an army paymaster, the lone ranger and Tonto had headed their horses toward the first call cafe near Fort Wade. As they neared the cafe, Tonto pointed. Look, Kimasabi. Plenty of horses in front of the place. Yes, army horses. As the masked man and Indian drew rain several hundred yards from the cafe, a corporal stepped from behind one of the horses. Seeing the two riders on the trail, he shouted, Responding to the corporal's command, the troopers rushed out of the cafe. Some of the soldiers drew revolvers, while others loosened their saddle rifles. The lone ranger shouted to Tonto. Turn back. They're going to shoot. Montilver! Montilver! Blitz ricocheted from rocks along the trail, but the lone ranger and Tonto had halted out of the accurate range of revolver fire. Before the soldiers could bring their carbines to bear, both men headed their horses into a thicket. Riding hard, the masked man and Indian shook off pursuit, only to see in the distance ahead the dust clouds raised by other cavalry patrols. They drew rain. Hold over, hold over. He's in steady, big thought. Steady. In a desperate situation, the boldest course is often the best. We'll put our case before the commanding officer if we can find him. Montilver! Montilver! Montilver! A short time later, Colonel Esterly paced the floor of his office. Alone at headquarters in an almost deserted fort, he had been directing the widespread search for the suspected killers through dispatch riders. As his restless movements took him toward the orderly room, the connecting door opened. The colonel stopped and stiffened. The masked man, an Indian. Steady, Colonel. We don't intend to harm you. If you killers think you can hold me as hostage... We're not killers. You and Kerry. Art Kerry spent the night of the payroll murder with us at a camp near Valley City. Such an alibi is worthless coming from you. I realize that we'll carry no weight as long as we are suspects. We've been framed, probably by Card Wilkins and his men, Rip and Spud. Before you waste any more words, you'd better identify yourself. All right. Here you are, sir. This cartridge may identify me. Why, it's loaded with a silver bullet. Why, you're the lone ranger. I accept your word that you and your friends are innocent, but in view of the evidence against you and the army's regulations, I can be of little help. I don't expect you to call off the hunt for us and arrest the cafe gang. We'll have to clear ourselves. Yes, but how? First, let me ask whether the stolen money can be identified. My officers and I will know it. It amounts to $15,000 and consists entirely of $5 and $10 gold pieces. The coins are new. They bear this year's date. They're marked with a tiny letter P, meaning they were minted in Philadelphia. Is it possible for you to offer a reward for the payroll killers? I'm sorry, mister, but army rules don't provide for any rewards, except the $5 bounties on deserters. Well, if a private individual were to offer a substantial reward, would you have the notices printed and posted? Yes, certainly, but why should such notices be necessary? Colonel, I have a plan. Most men become murderers because they want money or revenge. Card Wilkins is both money-hungry and revengeful. Those qualities in his character can be used to establish his guilt, if, as I believe, he and his men committed the crime. This is what I expect to do. After listening to the Lone Ranger's plan, Colonel Esterly directed him to an abandoned powder magazine at the edge of the military reservation. There, he and Tonto remains for the rest of the day. That night, they set out for Caravan Creek to hunt for Art Carey. It was several days later when the crook known as Rip hurried into the First Call Cafe. Fellers, look at this. Yeah, what is it? It's a reward notice some soldier just gave me. A citizen who doesn't want his name used is offering a heap of money for Carey, the masked man, and the injured. Here, let me see it. It says they're wanted dead or alive. Boys, this is our chance to square accounts with Carey and get paid for doing it. Pack some grub and settle up. Where are we going, Card? Caravan Creek. We'll fix that has-been, Sergeant. Collect on his cockies. Meanwhile, the Lone Ranger and Tonto had found the former non-commissioned officer at work on a worthless placer. They explained what had happened and advised him what to do in event the cafe gang appeared. The ever-adventurous Carey readily fell in with the plan. After several uneventful days, the masked man and Indian who had concealed themselves on the boulder-covered creek bank while Carey panned gravel below them, sighted three riders a short distance downstream. They loosened their guns. Those men are civilians. Ah, and me think them fellas we want. They've stopped and dismounted. Now they're coming on Indian fashion. Art, be ready. This may be it. Aye. A few minutes later, the crawling men were close enough for the Lone Ranger and Tonto to identify them as Card, Wilkins, Rip, and Spud. Suddenly, the crooks rose as one man, their guns drawn. Please, Carey. Wilkins. Come on, fellas. Jump down the bank. All right, now take his gun. Hold his arm. Right. All right, you. I've got his gun. Hold still, fella. Hang on to him. I'm going to bust his jaw before I plug him. In their efforts to hold on to the ex-sergeant, Rip and Spud had holstered their revolvers. As Card lowered his six-shooter and prepared to slug the prisoner, the Lone Ranger and Tonto leaped from their hiding place. Wilkins, drop that gun. The masked man ain't you. Drop your gun or I'll fire. There it goes. Our hands are up. Don't shoot. I'll pick up Wilkins' gun. Disarm the others, mister. Keep them covered. All right. There. That takes care of them. You can't get away with this. A thousand soldiers after you. They're not here. That's why we tricked you into hunting me on this creek. Tricked us? That's what I said. The masked man had that reward notice printed just as a come on. And so... All right. What are you going to do with us? You've tried twice to kill me. You'll frame me so I'm liable to hang. What did you do in my boots? He's fixing to shoot us. Shooting's too good for varmints like you. I have another idea. It's something that'll make you fellas confess that you murdered the paymaster. Seeing the stark terror in the eyes of his fellow crooks and believing that they were ready to betray him, Card Wilkins was desperate. At that moment, the Lone Ranger, who had been holding a gun on the cafe keeper, made a pretense of stumbling over a shovel. Well, Wilkins whirled and ran. I'm getting out of here. Stop, Wilkins. Try and stop me. Him on top of bank. Him run for horse. Now he's out of sight among the rocks. You let him get away on purpose. You shot way over his head. Yes, you're right. I allowed him to escape. Just as soon as I saw that he was afraid you two men would confess. I don't savvy, Dave. I know crooks. Wilkins will head straight for the place where you hid the payroll money. He probably hoped to get across the Mexican border with it. I'll tell you where the money is. I'll tell everything. Save your statements for Colonel Esterly. You'd either lie to us or claim later that we forced you to talk. Even if you led us to the money, you'd be in a position to say that we hid it. Wilkins has to be caught with the goods on him. It's our only way out of this frame-up. Him got big start now. Yes, it should be big enough to make him think he's safe. I'll follow his trail while you and Art take the prisoners to the fort. As the day drew to a close, the Lone Ranger and Colonel Esterly crouched in the chaparral which grew along one side of the first call cafe. The masked man was saying, I saw Wilkins dig something out of the hill over there. Then he took his saddlebags and went into the cafe. That was just before I reported to you at the fort. He must still be inside. His horse is at the hitchhack. Colonel, I only need you as a witness. May I suggest that you stay here when he comes out? But in all probability, he has armed himself again. Mister, this is my fight now as well as yours. You know I'll be court-martialed if we fail to catch Wilkins with the payroll money. And it becomes known that I helped and harbored you. There he is. Stooping under the weight of two bulging saddlebags which hung over his right shoulder, Card Wilkins crossed the cafe porch to his horse. As he turned his back and took hold of the bags with both hands, the Lone Ranger nudged the colonel. This is our chance. Let's get him. As the Lone Ranger and Army officer broke from cover, Card Wilkins whirled. At the same moment, he dropped his heavy saddlebags and dove behind a nearby rock. The masked man was shouting, Give up, Wilkins. You can't get away. The outlaw's response was a wild shot. The bullet missed the Lone Ranger who had reached the horse's head, but creased the animal's neck. Squealing with pain and rage, the big stallion reared, breaking his tie strap and striking out with his front hooves. The Lone Ranger dodged, but one thrashing hoof fanned his head and hit his shoulder. Although the blow was glancing, it stretched the masked man on the ground, half stunned. Colonel Esterly ran to his aid. I'll help you, mister. Seizing the stallion's bridle, the colonel attempted to quiet him before his deadly hooves again reached the Lone Ranger's body. In his struggle with the horse, the colonel dropped his revolver. Then Wilkins rose from behind the rock. I'll fix you, fellas. As Colonel Esterly groped on the ground for his fallen gun, the outlaw kicked it out of his reach. No, you don't. The spinning gun came to rest beside the Lone Ranger, who in the meantime had shaken off the effects of the blow he had received from the stallion's hoof. Grasping the weapon, he struggled to one knee as Wilkins yelled, This way you get it, colonel. Drop that gun, Wilkins. You sure took care of that crook, mister. Another second, he'd have murdered me. Are you badly hurt? No, colonel. Neither is Wilkins. I'll take his gun while you examine those saddlebags. I'll look inside of them at once, sir. There, I have one of the flaps open. Is it the army payroll? Yes, it is, beyond a doubt. Do something for me. My arm's broken. I'll take you to the post hospital shortly. Meanwhile, you'd better make a clean breast if you're part in the payroll robbery and the murder of Major Hayes. I haven't anything to say. I think your Confederates may be persuaded to talk. So you figure I'm making a deal with Spud and Rip? Few outlaws refuse to talk when it's a matter of saving their own necks. The first who tells the truth and agrees to testify for the government stands a little chance of getting off with his life. If you'll promise... I don't make promises to a crook. The decision is up to you. I'll talk. Spud and Rip helped me on the job. We put carries on a ribbon in the paymaster's hand and lied about the masked man and engine. Spud and Rip are the kind of fellows who'd blab if I didn't. They were in with me on some stage hold-ups. That's all I want to know. Get me to a hospital with my arm. Colonel, here comes one of your patrols. That's the Provo Marshal's detachment, Captain Hoyt commanding. Detachment! Hold! Hold! Hold the hold! We heard firing, sir. You've caught the masked man. Did he shoot Card Wilkins? I'll ask the questions. What are you doing with Kerry and the Indians? We just captured them. They had two civilian hostages that I'm holding as witnesses. Colonel, those civilians are Rip and Spud. Arrest them, Captain Hoyt. Release the other two men. Yes, sir. The masked man and I have recovered the payroll money and obtained a confession from Card Wilkins. He and his henchmen Rip and Spud committed the crimes at the fort. Kerry! Sir? Front and center. Yes, sir. What? Let me pin the ribbon of your special medal on your tunic again. I'm sorry that this proud emblem caused me to doubt your honor. And I'm sorry that I ever quit the army. I'd like to re-enlist, sir. Consider it done, Sergeant Kerry. Dismissed. Yes, sir. Oh, are you leaving, mister? Yes, Colonel. Adios, sir. Adios, Sergeant. Adios, mister. You did a lot for me. You should be wearing this ribbon. No, there's only one place for it. And that's a soldier's tunic. Are you ready, Tonto? I'm sitting in front of me ready. One, two, three. Up, down. Men, give our friends a cheer. Hooray! Captain, have the bugler sound recall. I don't want any more mistakes made about the Lone Ranger. This is a feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated, created by George W. Trendle, produced by Trendle Campbell Enterprises, directed by Charles D. Livingston, and edited by Fran Stryker. The part of the Lone Ranger is played by Brace Beamer.
