Fiery horse with the speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty hi-o-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, we call. Are you, Silver? Hooray! Ned Morton and Ford Reese had quarreled heatedly and often about their ranches which had joined each other. Their greatest argument occurred in the crowded confines of the Bovina General Store. Reese had accused Morton's cowhands of cutting down boundary fences and allowing Morton's stock to graze on Reese's land. When Morton, using sulfurous language, denied the accusation, Reese lost his temper completely. Ned Morton, you're a lying polecat. Your men did it. And if my boundary fences are cut again, and if I find any of your cows on my land, I'm not going to blame your men. I'm going to hold you responsible. Reese, you're talking like you had grasshoppers where your brain should be. I tell you, neither I nor my men bother with your fences or herds. And I say they do. And if it happens again, I'm taking the law in them own hands. Meaning what? You won't be alive to know what I mean. None of the listeners took the argument seriously. Those two are always blowing up a storm. Fighting and fussing and promising to do away with the other one. You know, I'm willing to bet the old codgers don't even carry bullets in their guns. I bet you're right at that. I wouldn't be too sure. Only man in these parts that don't carry a gun is Roy Laman. Yep. And that namby-pamby little old fussbudget would probably shoot himself for as much as touch the gun. But about Ned Morton and Ford Reese, they're heading for trouble. We'll see. Roy Laman, whose appearance and mannerisms in public warranted the description namby-pamby fussbudget, was an entirely different man when he was with those who helped him carry out his various well-planned schemes. He and his right-hand man, Tech Buell, sat in Laman's den at the rear of his ranch house. Laman, who was reputed to be afraid of all firearms, held a pearl-handled .45 in his hands. He caressed it as he looked at Buell. It's been a long time since I used this gun. You're planning to use it again? I might. Things are beginning to shape up beautifully, if what you tell me is true. You mean about Reese threatening to shoot Morton today? Well, it's true. I was in the general store when he said it. When I had you start cutting the boundary fences like you've been doing, I was hoping for something like that. You're bound. You're going to take over both their ranches, aren't you? I certainly am. There's only the open range between their places and mine. Yes, their two ranches, together with the one I own, would make me the biggest ranch owner this side of Texas. I moved into this territory with the idea of making that happen. But, Roy, even if you kill Reese and Morton, it wouldn't do any good. You'd only get Reese's Ranch. That is, if you're able to buy it like you think you'll be able to do. Why will I get only Reese's Place? On account of young Joe Morton, he'd take over his father's place. He can't do it if he's dead. You mean you're going to kill him, too? No, the law will do that. We kill Morton. Blame it on Reese. Then we kill Reese before the law gets to him. This time, we blame it on young Joe Morton. We say we saw him shoot Reese and... Well, it's as simple as that. All we have to do is plan it right. Lyman and Buell waited until they were certain that Joe Morton had gone to town one day. Then Buell went to old Ned Morton, alone in his ranch house, and gave him a message. Morton read it, then looked at the messenger. What's Lyman want? Why does he want me to meet him over near the Reese's Place instead of here at his own ranch? Well, I don't know, Mr. Morton. He just asked me to bring you that letter. That's all I know. All right. He's a nice fellow, Lyman is. And if, like he says, there's something important he wants to talk about, I guess he's got reason to ask me to meet him. Tell me I'll be there at 11 o'clock, like he said. Yes, sir, I'll tell him. Buell delivered a similar message to Ford Reese. Only the time of the proposed meeting was 11.30. Reese considered, then accepted. Ned Morton arrived at the meeting spot at 11 o'clock. There seemed to be no one in the vicinity. He dismounted and began to look around. Roy Lyman was the man who fired the shot that killed Ned Morton. Lyman and Buell came from their ambush and looked at the fallen man. He's dead, all right. Dead as they make him. Nice shot. There. Now, you ride to town and let the sheriff and the people know that Reese killed Morton like he promised he would. I'll say I saw it happen, but that Reese rode off before I could get to him. Right. Only be sure you get the word to Joe Morton first. Don't tell the sheriff till you see Joe ride off from town. I won't, Roy. You'll take care of Reese, meanwhile? Well, he'll be as dead as Morton a minute after he gets here. After that, handling Joe Morton will be easy. Ho, ho, ho, ho, now, ho, ho. Ford Reese was killed when he arrived at the place of appointment. Roy Lyman went through the dead man's pockets and removed the letter he'd sent to Reese, just as he had done to Ned Morton a little earlier. There were witnesses present when Tech Buell arrived in Bovina and told Joe Morton of the tragedy. Morton's reaction was immediate and violent. Dirty coyote. He killed Dad, did he? He said he would and he did. Well, I'll get him. I'll do the same to him right now. Don't be crazy, Joe. Let the sheriff handle this. The sheriff? No. I'll do the job quicker and better. I'm going out and get my dad's body. And after that, I'll get Ford Reese if it's the last thing I do. Murdering coyotes. Joe, wait. Don't go. Let the sheriff... He won't pay any attention, Tech. He's loco. Yeah, he sure is. And he means it. He'll kill Ford Reese. Yeah, I reckon he will. I better go tell Sheriff Dunbar. Yeah, you better. There goes Joe Morton riding out of town like mad to where his father is. As Tech Buell watched Joe Morton's horse disappear, he walked towards the sheriff's office, smiling to himself. What a surprise you're going to get, Bob, when you find your old man's body. Yeah, what a surprise. Ho, ho, ho down, boys. There were two bodies at the spot where Tech Buell told Joe Morton he would find his father. As Joe Morton saw Ford Reese's body nearby, his rage gave way to bewildered surprise. He knelt beside Reese and took the dead man's gun in his hand. He sniffed at the barrel, then looked into the bullet chamber. No bullets had been fired. Then he heard a step behind him and turned. But he was too late. Before he could adjust the gun in his hand, Roy Lyman had grabbed Joe Morton and yanked the boy's gun from his holster. He pressed the gun against the boy's back. Let me have that gun in your hands, you murderer. Give it to me. All right, now turn around with your hands up. Roy Lyman had a gun in each hand, pointing at Joe Morton when the latter turned, a surprised look on his face. Mr. Lyman put on those guns. Look over there. Dad's been murdered. Ford Reese has been murdered, too. I saw you do it. What? Saw me do it. I just got here. Stand back, stand back, I said, or I'll shoot. But you didn't see me kill Reese. He killed Dad, and I... I don't know about that part. I only know I saw you kill him. Oh, you didn't. I couldn't have, because... Now what are you doing? I see the sheriff and his men coming this way. I'm going to shoot and summon them here. Joe Morton's gun was in Lyman's right hand. As he spoke, he lifted it and fired into the air three times, covering the lad with a gun in his left hand. Then he fired the second gun into the air once, shouting as he did so. Sheriff! Help! Help! Sheriff Dunbar! Sheriff! Sheriff, I'm glad you've come. Hey, what's this? Hey, there are two bodies here. Yeah, Sheriff. Ford Reese is dead, too. So, Joe, you got Reese before we could stop you, huh? I didn't kill him, Sheriff. Oh, but he did, Sheriff. I saw him. I... Please, take these guns, someone. I'm scared of guns. I'm afraid I'll faint and I... Hey, he's fading. Grab him. Yep, I got him. I got him. I look at him. I'm afraid of a gun and faints. Well, he held it long enough to keep Joe Morton for us. Put the cuffs on, Joe Baldi. You sure think. All right, get those wrists out, Joe. But I didn't kill Reese, Sheriff. I swear it. I didn't use my gun. I just... Didn't use it? Is this your gun? Yes, but I didn't shoot it. Lyman did. You hurt him. I'm not sure I did. Come along, Joe. No, no, I won't. Take those cuffs away. I won't let you. Hold it. Do a punch, will you? Now, keep quiet. I won't. Lyman is lying. I never had... Oh. You didn't have to hit him, Baldi. But you can take him into the Hoosgall. I'll see how Lyman is. Between him and Tech Buell, we've got this whole story. Too bad about Joe Morton. I feel sorry for him. But he'll hang for this. There were some bits of evidence in Joe Morton's favor, but the preponderance was with the prosecution. The county attorney warned the jury before it retired to render a verdict. First-degree murder is that which is premeditated. Certainly, this was a murder of premeditation. Witnesses heard Joe Morton say he would kill Reese. Another witness who braved death to capture Joe Morton saw him kill the deceased in cold blood. There is no excuse, no factor, that can cause you to render a verdict other than guilty. The 12 men, rugged and tight-lipped, shuffled into the jury box in less than an hour after their retirement. When the judge asked for their verdict, it was given by the foreman who looked straight ahead as he spoke. We find the defendant guilty of murder in the first degree. Quiet! Quiet in the courtroom! Bailiff, if those people don't keep quiet out there, put them under arrest! Huh. That's better. Now, if the defendant has anything to say... I have plenty to say! It's a frame-up, a dirty, rotten frame-up! Enough of that, young fellow! I didn't kill anyone, I didn't! Lyman was lying, lying! I tell you, he was! If that's all you have to say, you may stop now. The jury has given its verdict. I won't stop saying it! You could see he was lying, he had to be! Take him away, Sheriff! We'll hang him next week sometime, soon as I set a date. Better keep quiet and come along, Joe. Sheriff, I'm not a murderer. But if I get my hands on that lying skunk, Roy Lyman, I will be a murderer! I'll kill him! I'll kill him! I... Enough of that! Now, Baldy, help me get him over to the jailhouse. Oh, sure. If I can hold it. Now, drag him along. No! Come on, you! Get it! Get it! Among the spectators who left the courtroom after the trial was an Indian who had remained standing in the background throughout. He mounted his horse quickly and headed for the hills. Get him out, Sheriff! Help! 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. Tonto rode to the Lone Ranger's camp where he told the masked man of the verdict and Joe Morton's reactions to it. He's not guilty. I don't blame him for acting violent. I certainly wouldn't send him to the gallows after hearing the evidence. Ah, me know how you feel, Kemosabe. Men say he saw murder. But he had no witness. Another thing. If the story Joe Morton told is true, it accounts for the bullet fired from his own gun and that of Ford Reese. Ah, but sheriffs say him not hear many shots. That could be because there are a great many men in the posse, all were galloping their horses. It would be difficult under the circumstances to know how many shots had been fired. Ah. It's true we need the law in the West as never before, but law and truth are not always the same. What do you do, Kemosabe? I don't know what we'll learn, but there's a chance we might uncover something that didn't come out at the trial. We're going to see this man, Roy Lyman. As the Lone Ranger and Tonto prepared to ride in on the trail to Bovina, Roy Lyman and his man, Tech Buell, were riding the same road away from the town. Yes, it's a good thing I decided to act the way I did. Well, I first came to this town. Otherwise, the jury might have believed Joe Morton's story about me. Has it was? I want a thousand dollars now, Roy. What did you say? You heard what I said, all right. I want a thousand dollars as down payment. For not telling the truth about you killing Ned Morton and Ford Reese. That's why I want a thousand dollars now, before it's too late. Too late for what? To save Joe Morton in case you don't pay me? I've got you right. You know it, Roy. Once you buy those two ranches like you expect to, you're liable to ditch me. You tried it in Texas once. Yes, but... No buts about it. I want money now. Let me get back to the ranch. Suppose I give it to you now. You've got that much money in your pocket? No, not money. I have this. Oh! You stupid fool! You... What? As Tech Buell slumped from his saddle to the ground, Roy Lyman heard horses galloping in his direction from somewhere behind the bend in the road. Come around now. He turned his horse quickly and galloped into the brush and over a hill, away from the scene. Oh, easy, silly, fella. Easy, come on. The Lone Ranger and Tonto, galloping around the bend in the road, came upon the body of Tech Buell. The man was still alive and conscious, and as the two men knelt beside him in the road, he spoke. I'm dying, but I must tell... Him man who see Reese kill Morton? Yeah, that's right. Only I didn't. I lied. What? Take it easy, man. Who shot you? Roy... Roy Lyman. He shot me and Tom Morton and Ford Reese. Gasping more as he became weaker, Tech Buell told his story to the Lone Ranger. There were lapses in the tale, he told, but there could be no doubt as to facts. He was telling about his own shooting when he died. Tonto, we'll see the sheriff and tell him what this man told us. We must save Joe Morton. But Joe Morton, in irate desperation, had no idea of being saved. As the guard in the ramshackle jailhouse entered Joe's cell with his first meal for the boy, Joe leaped on the man. Shut up, or I'll choke you to death. Shut up. Now give me your keys and your gun. You won't, huh? All right, there. Now I'll take him. Joe Morton left the cell block and used the keys to get into the outer office. Sheriff Dunbar and his deputy, Baldi, were wide-eyed as they saw the boy with a gun leveled at them. Don't reach for your gun, Sheriff. I don't want to shoot you. Now you, Baldi, take his gun and throw it across the room. Go on. There you are. Now throw your gun, too. Now the two of you walk back into the cells. I'm going to lock in one of them. Move! You don't think you're going to get away with this, do you, Joe? No, but you're going to hang me anyway. I'm going to make sure when you get me this time that you have reason to it. All right, walk into the cell now. Joe, let me... Don't try to tell me anything, Sheriff. My mind's made up. By the time you catch up with me, I'll have killed Royal Lyman like he deserves to be killed. Don't start yelling until I get out of here. Else I might change my mind and shoot both of you, too. There. You're locked in. Wish me luck. A few seconds later, hangers-on outside the prison were startled to see the sheriff's horse gallop across the main street and into the hills, with prisoner Joe Morton riding it. Minutes later, when the Lone Ranger and Tonto neared the street, they saw the crowds running to the sheriff's office. Tonto, that's a mob gathering. Hurry there. Then come back here and tell me what's happening. Get him up, scout. Don't stop, help her. Tonto returned shortly to the spot where the Lone Ranger waited, screened from the main street. Kimisabe! Joe Morton escape. What? How did he do it? Lock sheriff and men in cell. They're getting out now. Posse going after Joe Morton. Which way did he head? Ride to home of Roy Lyman. Say him going to kill Lyman. Tonto, we can't let him. We've come to clear him of murder. Now he's intent on committing one. What we do, Kimisabe? You stay and tell the sheriff about the dead man we found. Tell him we're certain Lyman's guilty. And ask him if he'll ride with you to the Lyman Ranch. I'm going to get there before Joe Morton does. Tell the sheriff I may need help. And if he comes, I'm sure he'll learn the truth about Reese's murder. Come on, sir. Joe Morton had galloped the horse he rode until the froth was flecking the lips of the animal. The horse began to stagger, it seemed, as it slowed on the path of the hill going downward to Roy Lyman's ranch house. Then he heard another horse thundering down the trail after him. He grabbed the gun he had taken from the floor of the sheriff's office on leaving and turned to face his pursuer. He saw a great white horse ridden by a masked man coming towards him. Joe Morton paid no heed to the masked man. Instead, he cocked his gun ready to fire. The Lone Ranger reined his giant white horse to a stop near some underbrush. Then he shouted to the tight-lipped boy. I have no friends. Now don't follow me. If you do, I'll shoot. All right, you want it, huh? Here. As the shots hit the trees behind the Lone Ranger, the masked man leaped from his horse and hurried him into the thick underbrush. There, out of sight of Joe Morton, he removed his lariat from the saddle and tied one end of it securely to a heavy clump of bushes. He backed behind a tree and tugged at the rope. The clump of bushes rustled violently. Immediately, Joe Morton shot at the spot where he thought the Lone Ranger was moving. So you think I'm there in the bushes? Good. That's what I want. The Lone Ranger dropped to the ground silently, holding the unsecured part of the lariat in his hand. Then, creeping and crawling, he trailed the rope behind him, tugging hard on it at intervals so that the bushes continued to rustle and sway. Almost noiselessly, he made his way in a semicircle to where Joe Morton hid behind the rock. Joe Morton could see occasional movement in the underbrush, where the masked man and his horse had sought shelter. He wanted to shoot, but realized he must save his two remaining bullets for Roy Lyman. The bushes continued to move as he backed away from the shelter of his rock. He turned, ready to make a run for his horse, but he ran directly into the arms of the masked man, who had risen from the ground a few feet behind him. The Lone Ranger's arms tightened around Morton's body like a vice. Didn't expect me, did you? Now drop that gun and listen to me. How did you get here? Let me go. No, Joe. Now listen to me. I want to help you. Then let me go. Drop the gun first. That's it. Now hear what I have to say, because I'm going to talk fast. Roy Lyman had left his den at the rear of his ranch house when he heard what he thought were shots in the hills. But there had been silence for minutes, and now he returned to the great room. Nervous, he cleaned his pistol, examined the barrel carefully, then placed bullets into the chambers. More minutes passed, and satisfied with the condition of the revolver, he placed it in his table drawer. You sure took care of me, little gun. Hope I won't have to use you for a while again. But that's the front door. Who can that be? As he hurried into the front room, the window behind him opened, and the Lone Ranger crawled through nimbly and quietly. He had watched Lyman and had seen the man place his gun in the table drawer. Quickly, he went to the table, removed the weapon, and emptied it of its bullets. He placed the empty gun back into the drawer as he heard Roy Lyman coming toward the room with Joe Morton. As he left through the rear door, he saw Tonto and the sheriff's men at the crest of the hill behind the ranch. Roy Lyman, leading Joe Morton into the room a few seconds later, was puzzled. For Joe Morton, acting on the Lone Ranger's instructions, had lulled the man with his approach. Now Roy Lyman, his mind working fast, sat the boy in a chair opposite his table. I'm sorry I can't help you, Joe. This sort of outlawry makes me ill. You're going to help me, though, aren't you? Give me a chance. Don't let him hang me. I can't interfere with the law, Joe. No, but you did. You interfered with the law when you perjured yourself in court and said I killed Ford Reese. Joe, my boy, you're insane. I did only what I was supposed to do. Yes, what you were supposed to do in order to get Dad's ranch on the ranch of Ford Reese. What you were supposed to do... Just a minute, boy. I don't know what you're saying. Yes, you do. You see, Mr. Lyman, Tech Buell didn't die. He didn't? No. He lived after you shot him. I found him on the road, getting away from jail. He told me everything. I've been fooling you since I came here, waiting to see what you'd say and do. I was going... What's that you have there? What, in this table drawer? This? This? A gun. A gun that's going to drill you. If you don't tell me where you have Tech Buell... I won't tell you. He's going to help me. He's going into court and tell how you killed my father and Mr. Reese. That's enough. He perjured himself, too. He said he saw your father kill, but he didn't. I know, because you did the killing yourself. First, I want to know where Tech is. So you can kill him, too, huh? Yes, I thought I'd finish them off, but... Morton, what are you looking at behind me? He's looking at us, Lyman. What? We've been listening to your story. Sheriff Dunbar! Your game is up, Lyman. I wouldn't have believed you to be the rotten cur you are... if I hadn't heard you convict yourself with your own words. All right, Baldi. Arrest him, boys. Come on, Lyman. Give us that gun. I'll give you the gun. I'll give you bullets. I'll go down fighting. Here. Here. Here. Your pistol's empty, Lyman. I emptied it while you answered Joe's knock at the door. No, no, you can't arrest me. You won't. I'll beat you with my bare hands. You'll get a punch in your rotten mouth. Nice punch, Joe. He probably deserves more than that from you. I'll let the law see that he gets it, Sheriff. The masked man sold me on that. Just think, stranger, I'd actually be a murderer by now if it weren't for you. When you would... He's gone, Joe. But we know what he did. His Indian friend Tonto told us what he planned to do. He did it. And you'll be free once I bring you before the judge and have a motion made. Oh, yeah, but the masked man. I wanted to thank him. What he did for me... What he did for you, Joe, is only what he's done for others a hundred times. You see, he's 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.
