A fiery horse with a speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty hi-yo silver, the Lone Ranger. Faithful Indian companion Toto, 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, Silver! That's your big fellow! I'm Silver! Hooray! Uncle Homer Potts came out of the stable behind the Henry House in Modoc City. The little New Yorker who had gone western by marrying Ma Hank, the huge landlady of the hotel, was leading a saddled draft horse. With mock dignity, he called out, My lady, your steed awaits you. Ma was on the back porch, the elevation of which made it easier for her to mount. She pretended anger. Homer, you promised to stop that highfalutin' horse! Oh, I reckon a back slid. Well, woman, here's your horse. Oh, that's better. Well, steady, Puddin' Foot, easy now. Puddin' Foot said, Oh, my back! Oh, the ornery critter! The next time I get me a horse, it's gonna be a camel! A camel, Ma? Right. You know, I've heard that those animals kneel down when you want to climb on board. Say, uh, are you going to be gone long? Yep, most of the day. I aim to look after some sick and needy folks. Oh, while you're gone, I'll ride over to Fort Belmont. What on earth for? The army's having an auction on some stuff it doesn't want. Thunder race and an auction sale, and I'll miss it. If you went, you'd likely get stuck with a busted cannon. Mind that iron deer you bought one time, eh? Well, the thing helped the Lone Ranger catch two killers. But, like the fella says, arguments never get you anywhere. No. And I've got places to go, so get up, foot and foot! Goodbye, Ma! Adios! As Ma, Hank, and Homer went their separate ways, the Lone Ranger and Tonto rode slowly through the burning sands of Furnace Flats. The desert trail which they were following eastward toward the mountains and Modoc City bore the tracks of wagons, oxen, and horses. Tonto looked at the signs and observed. Maybe we catch up with wagon train today, Kimisabe. Our hunt for Flint Carson may not end when we overtake the wagon. Oh, why do you say that? All we know is that a man answering Carson's description left California with a wagon train bound for the east. We may be following the wrong man or the wrong outfit. Carson has contacts with many different gangs, so he keeps moving. Later that day, Uncle Homer stood in the front rank of a crowd gathered outside the stables at Fort Belmont. So far, the auctioneer had sold only Civil War muskets, old McClellan saddles, lame horses, and mules grown gray with age. Bids had been few and low. As some of the people began to move away, the sale crier shouted, Don't go away, gents. I'm about to offer you the opportunity of your lives. Sergeant, bring out Sir Rob and Rustam. Come on, you vomits. Go away! Go away! Here they are, gents. Two camels. The sole survivors of the famous camel corps that once patrolled the southwest, making it safe for emigrants. All that camel herd ever did was make trouble. Feller, are you trying to knock this sale? I'm telling the truth. When that camel out that hit the trail, horses, mules, and cattle campedered. You've heard from Johnny know-it-all, gents. Now I'm putting Sir Rob on the block. Who'll give me a bid? What? No bidders? Look, I'll throw in the saddle. Now what do I hear? Gents, this beautiful beast is well broken. He answers to army commands. He's as sturdy as an elephant, gentle as a lamb. The misbegotten varmint bit me. Homer Potts, you're a friend of mine. Give me a bid of $20 to start it off. Well, $20. So, to Mr. Homer Potts of Modoc City. Oh, hey, that's one fair. Look, Homer, just to keep your goodwill, I'll give you both camels for the price of one. Now pay the clerk and get the concerned critters out of here. At that moment, a score of heavily armed men were camped in the foothills south of Furnace Flats. They were the dregs of the desert country. Some Americans, some Mexicans. The others renegade Apaches. As they cleaned their guns and honed bowie knives on their bootlegs, a solitary rider approached. Hook Taylor, the gang leader, exclaimed... Hey, that's Flint. He's coming in. Bueno. Much time we have waited for him. Howdy, fellas. Howdy, Flint. Ho, ho, ho. Well, Hook, I... I see you got the gang together. Yeah. Rounded up the boys as soon as I read your letter about the wagon train. Yeah, I traveled with it long enough to size up the situation. Where is it now, Flint? Halfway across the desert, on the Modoc City train. Uh-huh. How many are in the party? Forty-seven, all told. Thirty of them are women and kids. Yeah, that still leaves almost as many men as I've got. How much money do you reckon they're carrying? Plenty. That's why they're leaving the West. Those fellas own good property and sold for cash before they started east. How are they fixed for guns? Oh, they're well supplied. And they're being cautious. They're plenty. There's a place on the flats where we can ambush them. If we attack them in the open, they might beat us off. Yeah? I thought of that. So? So you do what, Senor Flint? That poison is the only water hole between them and the foothills this side of Modoc City. Oh, I know that water hole. It's called Salvation Well. I filled two saddlebags with the deadliest stuff I could find. Last night, I rode on ahead of the outfit, dumped the poison into the water, and headed for this place. You're loco if you think all those people will drink out of the hole and die. Look, I don't figure on that at all. But they're short on water now, and their horses and oxen are mighty thirsty. The animals are sure to stampede the hole, and the poison will kill them. That'll leave the people stranded. Sure. Now get ready to ride. Take along plenty of water and grub. Now why? We may not be able to shoot those people without getting hit ourselves. In that case, we'll simply wait for them to die of thirst or surrender. It was several hours later when Uncle Homer appeared at the end of Modoc City's main street with the two camels. An idler outside the Nugget Cafe was the first person to see them. He stuck his head through the batwing doors and yelled, Outside, everybody! Come around him! Hey, look, coming down the street! You see those animals? I see them, but I still don't believe there are any such critters. Who's that little fella on top of one? Uncle Homer Potts! Just then, a stray dog sighted the alien beasts and ran into the street barking furiously. Both camels lowered their heads, bared their big yellow teeth, and charged the mongrel. As the dog turned tail and fled in terror, Uncle Homer sawed on Saurab's reins. Whoa, Saurab! Whoa! Whoa! Oh, stop! The other camel had broken loose. It was hotly pursuing the dog. The onlookers in front of the Nugget Cafe dove back through the doors. A dozen horses hitched to nearby posts and rails broke their tie straps and galloped off. A mule train, which was being loaded in front of a miner's supply store, joined in the stampede, scattering boxes the length of the street. At the same time, the riderless camel chased the dog into Schultz's variety store, creating more havoc than the proverbial bull in a china shop. As it emerged with a suit of red flannel underwear draped around its neck, Uncle Homer grabbed the dangling rain and shouted, Now, come on, Rustum! Forward, Saurab! Meanwhile, about 12 hours' travel from Modoc City, the lone ranger and Tonto came to the top of a rise on the desert trail. The Indian pointed. Look, Kimo Sabe. What? A wagon train just ahead. Yes, it stopped at Salvation Well. Hmm, there's something wrong. All their oxen and horses are lying down around the waterhole. Monsilver! Monsilver! They see us! Fellers, point guns this way! Hold your fire, we're friends! Come into your hands, sir! All right, Monsilver, hold! Why are you wearing a mask? He's an owl, old chap. Let's take the horses and send for help. Steady, men. We're not outlaws. We're here to help you. What happened to animals? They're all dead. Poison. That water killed them. You're in a desperate situation. As he spoke, the masked man studied the stranded travelers. None of the men fitted the description of Flint Carson. The wagons appear to hold only women and children. He continued. You'll never get out of this desert on foot with your families. We know it. I take it that you're the wagon master. That's right. I'm Cap Morse. Dave Brewster here is second in charge. Did any of you people drink from Salvation Well? Well, I took a mouthful but spit it right out. It tasted like alkali to me. That didn't keep the animals from filling up. They'd been without water so long, they ran to the hole as soon as we unhitched. There are deposits of a deadly alkaloid in the mountains. It sometimes washes into water holes. Salvation Well is on the map as being pure. It became poison during the last day or so. Otherwise, you'd see the carcasses of wild animals lying around it. Why, Sunday, that's so. Maybe somebody put poison in it. Cap, when you left California, did you have among your men a six-footer with drooping eyelids, gold teeth, and a tattooed star on his right hand? Yeah. He disappeared from camp last night. Oh, and him must be Brent Carson. Oh, he said his name was Miller. Who's cousin? Most vicious robber and murderer in the West. My friend and I have been hunting him. Oh, that's how it is. The tracks of his horse showed he went on ahead of us. He must have been here this morning. And that explains the poison. Why would he do such a thing, mister? He knew or suspected that you men are going back east with fortune. Probably he has a gang waiting to attack you. What do we do? Pull your wagons into a circle by hand. Dig trenches, make a stand. We're having a drop of water. The young one... Pato and I each have two canteens. We'll leave them with you. Ration of water to the children. Mister, you're sure generous. Where are you going? To Modoc City. That's a long way off. Wind's rising. Maybe it'll rain. That's a sandstorm coming. Well, and you and your partner are headed for sure death. With the help of Providence, we'll get through. Adios, friends. Adios. Montelie! Montelie! All right, drop down your knees, everybody. We're going to pray for the masked man and engine. 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. As the Lone Ranger and Tonto headed for Modoc City, bent on saving the travelers stranded at the poisoned waterhole, Uncle Homer managed to get control of the two camels he had bought at an army auction. The little Easterner had recovered some of his aplomb. As he brought the awkward beast to a stop at the hotel stable, Maul Hank barged out of the kitchen. What on earth have you there, Homer Potts? Uh, camels? Land sakes. Honest to goodness, camels. Well, I heard you wish for one. You what? Get down off of that long-legged critter. Get down, I say. Yeah, no. Down, Sorob. Down. Great. See, he's kneeling. Why, Homer, darling, he's cute. And then he's down. Well, he's yours, my dear. I'll take the other one. I bought them at the army auction. Look, here comes Marshal Jim. Uh-oh. Oh, there the apartments are, huh? Hey, Marshal Jim, I'm right sorry about the ruckus of Camels' car. Ruckus? It was the next thing to an earthquake. What happened? Those cantankerous critters stampeded every living thing in town. The mayor wanted me to arrest you, Uncle Homer. There's no law against having camels. That's what I told the mayor. But just the same, you're in for trouble unless you get rid of the beast pronto. We're keeping them. Now, see, tomorrow's payday at most ranches and mines. When the cow folks and miners come to town, they'll find out it isn't safe to leave their horses on the street. It'd be just like them to come here and plug the camels. Let them come. Homer, you put the critters in the stable. With the horses? No, no, he can't do that. Put them in the big storeroom behind the kitchen. When night fell a few hours later, the Lone Ranger and Tonto were far out on the desert. The windstorm had broken in full fury, blotting out the moon and stars with clouds of sand. Tonto was shouting, Better we wait till storms stop. No, keep going. Horses soon give out. We'll discard everything but our guns. Their loads lightened. The gallant silver and scouts struggled on. But soon the Lone Ranger swung from his saddle. Horses, we're hollies. Horses, we're hollies. Horses, we're hollies. Horses, we're hollies. From now on we walk. Horses, we're hollies. Horses, we're hollies. Hold on to a stirrup and walk in the ruts, Tonto. Several miles farther on, the deep wagon track stopped, buried by drifting sand into which the horses sank to their hocks. The Lone Ranger called a halt. Horses, we're hollies. Horses, we're hollies. We'll rest the horses for a few minutes. Winds change plenty. Now we're blowing faces again. Maybe we're going round in circles. Then we're lost. After a short rest, the Lone Ranger and Tonto attempted to find the trail with their hands, while their faithful horses stood at Ground Hitch. Crawling back and forth, but keeping within sound of each other's voice, they clawed holes in the sand rifts. May not find trail, Kimasabi. Keep digging, Tonto. The men dug, scraped, and probed. If not here, try again. Me try. At last, the Indian's fingers came into contact with firmly packed sand under a loose drift. He cleared the hole and felt around. Kimasabi. Yes. Here ruts. Good. Now give us our bearings. We remember. Trail runs straight east from here to Modoc City. Let's go, Tonto. Come on, Tonto. Come on. Come on, Tonto. Come on, Tonto. Want to run? Most got hopefully. Steady, Silver. Easy, steady, big fella. Get into the saddle, Tonto. We'll give the horses their heads. Be savvy. After we find water, we'll go on to Modoc City. Where we go for help in town? To the Henry House. Our old friends Ma Hank, Uncle Homer, and Marshal Jim will help us. Come on, Silver. Get him up. It was near noon when Marshal Jim returned to the Henry House. He found Ma Hank and Uncle Homer in the kitchen, armed to the teeth. Behind them, in the high-ceiling storeroom, stood Sorab and Rustam, placidly chewing their cuds. All other guests had departed in haste and indignation. The Marshal was saying... It's just as I told you it'd be. A mob is forming, huh? There are a hundred fellas in the Nugget Cafe, all bound and determined to lynch your camels. I can't stop them. By thunder, Homer and I'll stop them. Ma, that means shooting. The critters aren't worth it. But the principle is, as the fella says, this hotel is my castle. Oh, mercy. Who's at the door? Yeah, sure thing, Ma. It's the Long Ranger in Tunnel. For sakes alive, mister. Come on in. Come in. Howdy. Howdy, mister. Ma Hank, it's good to see you. How that goes, Double. And you, Marshal. Glad to see you in Tunnel again. Where'd you leave your horses? Behind the hotel near the stable. They came here through the woods so we'd not be seen. My friends, you arrive at the time of trouble. Yes. After hearing of the difficulties into which the camels had plunged his friends, the masked man told about the plight of the travelers on the desert. Then Ma Hank said... Those camels will have to go. This is no time to be fighting over them. Those camels can help the people of the wagon train. But how? Tunnel and I will ride them to Salvation Well and take canteens of water. We'll take a direct route. That shortcut is impassable. The sand is too fine and loose, mister. Not for camels, Marshal. They can travel where no horses can go. That's right. We'll save hours of time. Good, good. Go out the back way and leave town without being seen. When you and Tunnel have left, I'll bring some of the mob here and show them that the camels are gone. That'll satisfy them. Then I'll lead a rescue party to Salvation Well. Be sure to bring extra horses for the wagons. Also scout and silver. Oh, whoops. Oh, now. It was early that night when the lone ranger and Tonto brought the camels to a halt near Salvation Well. The bright moonlight revealed a dune built by the sandstorm. The water hole and wagons were beyond the ridge. Then gunfire began. You must have it. Yes? Bandits here already. Gunflash show. Them surround wagons. Tonto, look over there. The fire under the dune. Horses there. The outlaws must have left them there so they'd be out of range as a gunfire. There's only two men guarding those horses, Tonto. Let's charge them. All right. Come on. Get it. Get it. As the towering camels closed in, the outlaws' badly frightened horses screamed, pitched, and kicked. One guard, who tried to quiet them, was knocked down. The other took to his heels, firing wildly over his shoulder. Before the lone ranger could return the fire, the milling horses broke the picket line and, at a mad gallop, headed for their home range in the distant hills. That's the outlaws. Oh, now. Oh, now. Oh, now. Dismount, Tonto. Retire the camels to the picket line. Then try to crawl through the outlaws' line of the wagons. Meanwhile, the bandits had heard the commotion as they lay in a circle around the wagon train. Creeping back from the firing line until they were out of sight of the besieged travelers, Flint Carson and Hook Taylor leaped to their feet. Hook? What's happening beyond the dune? I don't know, Flint. Someone's coming this way on the run. It's Chala. Senor. Senor, the horses are stampeded. No, no, not that. It's true. It's true. A masked man, an Indian, riding on two monsters, scared them. Oh, you've been eating loco weed. No, Senor Flint. Where are those fellas now? After I get away, I stop and look back. I see them crawling to the dry wash that goes toward the water hole. Must be trying to reach the wagon train, Flint. Yeah. Chala, you go back with the rest of the men. Si, si, senor. Come on, Hook. Let's get the varmints who stranded us. Flint and Hook worm their way to the edge of the shallow dry wash and lay in wait, concealed by the heavy shadow of a boulder. It's too dark here to see my gun sight. Well, I can see mine. The holster's worn it bright. You better shoot first. Listen. I hear something. Hey, look. The masked man. The engine's behind him. I'll plug the masked man first. I'll wait till he's close. Unaware of the ambush, but always on the alert, the Lone Ranger had been scanning the top of the dry wash. He saw nothing above except the boulder. He was about to creep on to certain death when Flint Carson's six-gun projecting over the edge of reflected moonlight. Like a flash, the masked man fired. The killer's gun blazed harmlessly. Then it fell into the dry wash as he groaned. My hand, he stopped me. Tell him, he won't. I'll get out of here. Cover me, Toto. I'm going up there. Me keep watch. Scrambling up the slope, the masked man pounced upon the outlaw who had rolled out into the moonlight. Let's see that hand, fella. Yeah. There's a tattooed star on the back that my bullet didn't touch. What are you talking about? You're Flint Carson. A man a dozen sheriffs want to hang. In the meantime, the bandits on the firing line had heard through Chulla that their horses were gone. With the disappearance of their leaders, they began to break. The defenders of the wagon train, who had thrown up mounds of sand as breastworks, saw what was happening. Captain, they're running. After the polecats, fellas. Follow me. Some of the bandits fell wounded. Others surrendered. The remainder scattered and hid in the desert. When Cap Morris and his men returned from their victorious sortie, they found the masked man at the wagon train with Flint Carson. Cap was puzzled. How'd you do it, mister? While the Lone Ranger explained, Tonto appeared with the camels loaded with canteens of water. A cheer went up. Hooray for the masked man and Tonto! Don't forget Sorab and Rustam. Hooray for the camels! It was the next day when the rescue party arrived, led by Ma Hank, Uncle Homer, and Marshal Jim. Later, Hook Taylor and the other outlaws who had sought refuge in the desert came in with their hands up, preferring legal punishment for their crimes to the tortures of heat, thirst, and slow death. After tying and loading all of the prisoners into wagons, the Marshal said, These crooks will soon be headed for jail or a rope. The wagon train will be heading east. But what about those camels? He pointed to Sorab and Rustam, who stood tethered on the sand dune out of mischief's way. As mayor of Modoc City, I take my hat off to the darn... I mean the noble and heroic feet. But we can't have them in town. Don't you agree, Homer? Well, I reckon I have to, mayor. More how about giving the camels to old hardpan Pete, the prospector. Homer, that's a good idea. Poor old hardpan Pete lost his burrows. He'll be right kind to the camels. Hey, look. Masked Man and Tonto are getting on their horses. Our friends were sorry to leave you. Mister, isn't there something we can do for you? You did enough, Cap, when you prayed for us. Adios, all. Adios, come on, see ya! Look, count! Boy, Hanky, appears like you know that Masked Man. Well, now, nobody ever really knows a man like him, Cap, but he's a grand man. 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.
