Transcript
Grainger Advertiser (0:00)
If you're a maintenance supervisor for a commercial property, you've had to deal with everything from leaky faucets to flickering light bulbs. But nothing's worse than that ancient boiler that's lived in the building since the day it was built 50 years ago. It's enough to make anyone lose their cool. That's where Grainger comes in. With industrial grade products and dependable fast delivery, Grainger can help with any challenge from worn out components to everyday necessities. Call clickgrainger.com or just stop by Grainger for the ones who get it done.
Andrew Rines (0:45)
Welcome to the Old Time radio Westerns. I'm your host Andrew Rines and I'm excited to bring you another episode absolutely free. This is one of over 80 episodes released monthly for your enjoyment. Now let's get into this episode.
Narrator (1:16)
A fiery horse with the speed of light, a cloud of dust and the hearty Hio Silver. The Lone Ranger with a faithful Indian companion hustle. 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 hoof beats of the great horse Silver. The Lone Ranger rides again. The Lone Ranger and his 14 year old nephew Dan Reed stood beside the furnace river. Several miles below them, the Mudok irrigation dam. A new project was in operation backing up the flood Poland river until it formed a long lake. The masked man had drawn one of his six guns. He was saying, and it's time you learned something about marksmanship. Are you really going to let me shoot that gun? Yes. But first I want to fix it in your mind that no gun is a plaything. The deadly weapon which must always be handled with care. I know how careful you are, sir. Now, never draw a gun unless you're prepared to use it. Never point at anything you wouldn't want to shoot. Never shoot unless you have no other choice. Alice, take the gun. Gosh, but it's heavy. What shall I shoot at? There are a lot of logs in the river. So many in fact that I wonder where they come from. Fire at that one out there. I'll have to use both hands to cock it. One of the arms companies is now putting out a self cocking gun. It's called a double action 38. Pull on the trigger, throws back the hammer and trips it. There, I've got it cocked. Are you ready already? Here goes. Oh, I Shot way over it. The barrel kicked up. I'm gonna shoot again. That was better, but you still missed it by a yard. Don't make your trigger finger do all the work. Use your whole hand and squeeze both butt and trigger. I'll try again. I hit it. I hit it. I saw the bark fly. That was good, Dan. You're letting fast. The time will come when you'll feel that a gum is part of your hand. The log's gone now, but there comes a small chuck. It's only a few feet out. I'll try for it. Oh, wait. Don't shoot them. Put that hammer down. Gently now. It's down. What's wrong, sir? That's not a piece of wood, it's a canteen. I was waiting after it. Can you reach it? Yes, I've got it. It's almost new. Where do you suppose it's loaded from? I have no idea. But there's something inside. Here. Listen. Maybe there's some gold nuggets in it. Let your imagination run away with you, Dan. There, I've got the cap off. Now I'll pour out whatever's inside. What are those things? Those pebbles like we're standing on? I wonder. Yes, there's something else in it. A rolled paper. Somebody wanted this canteen found and opened. The pebbles were intended to arouse the finder's curiosity. I'll bet that paper is a messy. We'll know in a moment. The paper is wet and I don't want to damage it. There's some writing on it. It's smudged, but I'll try to read it. If this letter is ever found, it is the wish of a dying man that be delivered to Mrs. Ellen Norwood in Modoc City. My dear wife and darling daughter. Are you going to read the rest? I would like to, but the writing may disappear or the paper fall apart. We should know the contents. That's what I think, sir. The letter goes on. Jim Stark and I were ambushed 27 May on the furnace river near Squaw Creek. Jim was killed. I was shot in the back and left for dead. When I came to, I was paralyzed from the waist down. The horses are gone. I can't live much longer. Tell the sheriff that. Tell him what? That's the end of the letter. Either the writer couldn't go on or the writing has faded out. You suppose there's a chance of finding the man alive must be presumed dead. The 27th was three weeks ago. No badly wounded man can live that long without food, shelter or medical attention. Going back to camp. I see Taho waiting for us. Grump ready? I haven't time to eat now, Toto. Here, Silver. Where you go, Kim Sabi to Modoc City to deliver a letter. Dan will explain. Steady, Silver. Yee. That evening, two ranchers leaned against an isolated hitch rack in Modoc City. They were Tim Higgins and Leif Hayes, both from the lower valley of the furnace river. Keeping a sharp watch around them, they talked in low voices. Hayes was saying, tim, I wish you hadn't a plug nor wooden stock. Me pulling the trigger on them doesn't let you out. You were there helping me roll logs into the river to erect their irrigation dam. I was there again today and the bodies are gone. What of it? The high water probably carry them off and they'll turn up sooner or later. We should have buried them. Wasn't time for that with engines always prowling around those parts. Suppose those fellas are found and it comes out that they were drilled with.38 caliber slugs. That new double action gun of yours is the only.38 around and everybody knows it. The sheriff's too dumb to think about the size of the bullets. Yeah, well, he's not too dumb to know that you and I and all the other ranchers in the lower valley had it in for Norwood because he was superintendent of the irrigation dam. And for stock because he was Norwood's helper. Why shouldn't we have had it in for them? Unless we get rid of that confounded dam, the lower valley will be full of ditches and two bit homesteaders in a few months. They'll be growing onions where we're running longhorns. Now the dam is still standing. All those logs we sent drifting down against it never hurt it a bit. I figured if they'd plug the spillways and that the whole thing would give way or wash out during high water. You better figure out now a way of keeping us from being charged with murder. You better figure right. I hear Norwood woman. It's best in the sheriff to look for him in Stark. Maybe the engines will get the blame. Wait a minute. You're a friend of the sheriff's. Why don't you start him thinking about redskins? I'll go and talk to him right now. See you later, ladies. A few minutes later, Higgins was in the jail office with sheriff Ben Robbins. There was a thoughtful look on the grizzled lawman's face as he said, you are the first fellow who's complained about the Indians in a long spur. I tell you, they rustled at least 50 head of cattle from a herd I had running on the high rain. Well, I'll give me a percy and have a look around. Chief Long Lance's village agent. I can be looking for Dick Norwood and Jim Stark along the way. Norwood and sky. There. There's Mrs. Norwood now. Howdy, ma'am. This here is Tim Higgins. How do you do? How do you do? Have you heard from your husband yet? I just received a message from him. Oh, I'm right glad to hear, laddie. Sheriff, you don't understand. He. He stands here. Take this chair. Ma'am, you're kind of beside yourself. Thank you, Charles. Look here. How can he be dead if you've got word from him? It's kind of smudge, but I can read it, see? Tim, may pour the lady some water. Sure, sure. Here you are. Thank you. Sheriff, you look mighty puzzled. What's in that letter? It appears like no wooden stork got bushwhacked up by Squ Creek. But no wood lives long enough to write a few ladders. I don't see how. What? How the leather got here. It floated down the river in my husband's canteen. Did he say who shot him? Nope. But I reckon he knew who did. The letter breaks off right where he was going to tell. That's too bad. Mammy, you feel up to answering some questions? How come your husband and Stark went up the river when it's their business to look after the dam? They wanted to find out why so many logs drifted down against the dam. Did he suspicion that somebody put them in the river to wreck it? I don't know. Jim, do you know anything about it? What, are you accusing me? No, no. But you valley ranchers fought hard against that dam dean dirt. We did our fight in court, and when we got lit, we gave up, even though it meant losing our holdings. Who else would want to smash the dam? What about the Indians? It backed water up on their land and made them move their village. Come to think of it, Injuns have been known to smash bridges by floating logs against them in flood time. The sheriff. My husband liked the Indians, and they liked him.