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Old Time Radio Westerns
Terror Trail | The Lone Ranger (09-27-50)
00:25:43
Original Air Date: September 27, 1950Host: Andrew RhynesShow: The Lone RangerPhone: (707) 98 OTRDW (6-8739) Stars:• Brace Beemer (Lone Ranger)• John Todd (Tonto) Writer:• Fran Striker Producer:• George W. Trendle Music:• Ben Bonnell Exit music from: Ro...
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Andrew Rines
Find your AMEX card and earn rewards on everyday purchases like points on groceries. See if you pre qualify with no impact on your credit score. Learn more about our offers@americanexpress.com check 4 offers. Your credit score may be impacted if you submit an application. Terms apply. 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. A fiery horse with the speed of light, a cloud of dust and a hearty high. O Silver. The Lone Ranger. General Mills, makers of Cheerios, the ready to eat oat cereal that gives you go power and Wheaties, the breakfast of champions. Present by special recording the Lone Ranger. We're all over the country in every direction. How ya, how you doing? Is a question a new one that happy people have to say. Okay, okay. Hello, this is the Lone Ranger speaking. You know, Americans have the reputation of being always on the go. You can see how we got that reputation when you think back on the exploits of men like Daniel Boone, Lewis and Clark, Davy Crockett and many others. They had to cross the rivers, climb the mountains, break the trails from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Today, Americans are still full of energy. And the important thing to remember is that we are a wheat nation. We eat more energy giving wheat by far than any other grain. It's one big reason why we are still on the move, exploring new frontiers. Keep on eating your wee. With his faithful Indian companion, Tonto, the daring and resourceful mask rider of the plains led the fight for law and order in 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. Come on, Silver. Let's go, big fella. I am Silver. Hurry. Find your AMEX card and earn rewards on everyday purchases like points on groceries. See if you pre qualify with no impact on your credit score. Learn more about our offers@americanexpress.com check 4 offers. Your credit score may be impacted if you submit an application. Terms apply. Sitting beside a campfire in one of the territories of the Southwest, the Lone Ranger read a message which had been relayed to Tonto by an Indian runner. As he finished, he said, carlo, this note came from our old friend the padre. He wants us to look in two conditions in the Murado Valley. That long way from mission. That's true. But the padre learns many things from travelers. In some way he's heard of it. That a man called Don Diablo is terrorizing the valley. And what we do. Prepare the ride. We're going to the Murado Valley. After several days of hard travel, the Lone Ranger and tottle rode into the vast and fertile lowlands where Don Diablo was supposed to hold sway. Walled in by almost impassable mountains, the Murado Valley was a little world of its own, rarely visited by outsiders. At first view, it appeared to be a purple paradise. They rode in thoughtful silence until. Oh, there's a rider coming this way. Ah, there's something wrong with them. Look. How him ride bent over. Yes, he may be hurt. What's the matter, friend? Him not even look up. Grab his reins. He got him easy enough. Hollow. This man is dead. How? Dead man riding horse. His legs have been tied to his saddle girth. Hold onto his horse. I'll get down and take a closer look. Easy. Steady, fellow. Steady, fella. Steady. Nobody hurt you. This man was shot in the head. He was a deputy sheriff. Me not see. Badge unvest fastened to his back and holds a note. I'm unpinning it now. There I have it. What note? Say it reads, sheriff Pembroke Rosario, I am returning your spy. Con mucho gusto. What that mean? With much pleasure. But that's not all. The message is signed Don Diablo. It looked like him. Figure horse would go home with dead man and note. That was it. He wanted to show his contempt for law. Repinning the badge and note to the murdered deputy's back, the Lone Ranger searched his pockets and saddlebags. He found nothing of any significance. Then he noted that the dead man's hat had been pulled on so tightly that it could not fall off. Removing it with some difficulty, he looked inside and exclaimed, taro. The deputy was carrying the rail of a Chihuahua spur in the sweatband of his hat. What you make of that? My guess is that it had something to do with his murder. Certainly he considered it valuable or he wouldn't have taken such pains to conceal it. Me never see American wear Chihuahua spurs. Few, if any do some Mexican vaqueros use them while riding vicious horses. But under ordinary circumstances, aware of such spurs betrays himself as being insanely cruel. I'll keep this row for the time being. And what we do with dead man? Let the horse take him on to Rosario and backtrack it while the trail's fresh. Get along, feller. Get along. Him heading Right direction, yes. Easy, said he. Bigfoot. Let's go. As the masked man and Indian took the back trail of the dead rider, Carlos Shelby, the wealthiest man in the Murado Valley, pulled down one of the books which lined the walls of his hacienda library a few miles away. Ah, it's you, Mort. You know, I dote upon that name, Mort. In French it means death. Well, I've done a lot of killing for you. And what do you want? Just to tell you I sent the deputy back with your Don Diablo note like you ordered. But I'm thinking it was a mistake to do it yours. Not the reason why, as Tennyson so aptly put it. I think he was sent out to investigate the raid we made on the Hermosa ranch the other night. And maybe he found something there that pointed to you. What could he have found? I don't know. We plugged old man Hermoso and that young Manuel Martinez. You got the Hermoso girl, Rosita here. That accounts for all the witnesses. Unless somebody like the cook got away. What could a witness tell? We were masked. All right, boss, have it your own way. I always do. Bring Rosita Hermosa to me. Right. As Mort left the room, the man who was both Carlos Shelby, highly respected ranchero, and Don Diablo, the terror of the valley, took a quirt from a desk drawer. The whip had a loaded handle and many knotted thongs which he drew through one hand with a caressing motion until the door opened again. There she is, boss. Stay outside the door, Mort. You are Senor Shelby. Does that surprise you? My dear senor, this is not possible. That unspeakable one, Don Diablo, and his bandidos have killed my padre and my Manuel. They have carried me off. But here I am in your hacienda, senorita. I am Don Diablo. Is that true? But no, you make the joke. You are the good senor, the rich ranchero. Many times I have danced at your fiesta. So I noticed. That's why you are here. Let me out of this place. My dear girl, are you stupid enough to think that I'd let you go alive? You will stay alive only so long as you please me so. Be pleasant. Do not touch me. Beef Nietzsche has a chapter on women. Let us see what he advises. Let me see. Here it is. He likens women to cats and concludes with this line also sprach. Forget not the whip. Ah, the whip. As the book minded killer continued to scan outpourings of the insane German philosopher, Rosita grabbed up another volume from the desk. Oh, read this. As she spoke, she hurled the book straight into Shelby's face, smashing his glasses. I'll kill you for that. He lashed at her with his quirt. But she nimbly dodged him and retreated to the door just as it opened. Let me out, Porteous. Let me out. I got it. Boy, what'd she do? She broke my last pair of glasses. I can hardly see without them. Only an optical company in San Francisco can supply the kind of need you want. I should hold her while you leave the lash at her. That'll come later. Lock her up and keep her locked up until I can get new glasses. I want to see her writhe in pain. I want to see. See. We'll continue our Lone Ranger adventure in just a moment. Jenny is 10. And is she good? She's skip rope champ of the neighborhood. She's so quick because she knows she's got Go power from Cheerios. Yes, she's got go power. There she goes. She's fishing. Cheerios. Cheerios. Cheerios. That makes sense. Try Cheerios, the wonderful oat cereal that's shaped like a little letter O and you'll agree you'll like that delicious toasted oat flavor. And Cheerios is ready to eat. Just pour out a big bowl full, add good fresh milk, dig in and start getting your go power. Because a Cheerios breakfast is full of vitamins, proteins and minerals. And those are the good things you need to help build red blood, healthy bodies and strong muscles. So enjoy your breakfasts every day with delicious Cheerios and milk and get that good go power. Then folks will say she's feeling her Cheerios now to continue. As Carlos Shelby raged in the library of his hacienda, the Lone Ranger and Tottle reached the end of the murdered deputy's back trail. On a rock strewn ridge a mile away, they drew reinforce. Hello. This is where he was shot. We'll just mount and look around. Easy setting up. Before the masked man had taken more than a half dozen steps, a rifle cracked the bullet fan discord as he fled, flattened himself, the hidden rifleman fired again. Glancing from a rock above his shoulders, the slug screamed off, narrowly missing the horses. Deep down, Toto, what we do. I'll fire into the air to hold his attention while you slip around behind him. Be savvy. Stealthily working his way through the rocks, the Indian soon reached a point from which he could see the bushwhacker kneeling behind a boulder. He was a haggard young man with a stained rag tied around his head. Toto crept Forward. Just as the youth was about to fire again, he sprang. Drop rifle. Taken completely by surprise and feeling Toto's revolver against his back, the bushwhacker let go of his weapon. Now stand up. Stand still. I am too much wounded to run. Me got him. Kimasami, bring medicine kit. I'll be right with you. Several minutes later, the masked man appeared with a first aid outfit. He gave the youth a look of compassion. Why did you shoot at me, young man? You know why. Don't the obligation. I am not Don Diablo. Otto, here's a kit. Take care of his wound. Ah, me fix you up, fella. Mil gracias, senor. Indio. I have made the big mistake. But that evil one, Don Diablo, he wore a mask on the night of Tuesday when he and his bandidos raided the Hermosa ranch. Stole Rosita, killed her father and left me for one dead. You say he carried off a girl? Si, senor Rosita. The beautiful one I, Manuel Martinez, wished to marry. How did you happen to be here on the ridge? I wished to find the deputy who came to the ranch. I told him what Don Diablo did. We look at the trail of the evil one, his bandidos. But. Well, after two days he was gone. But we found a gold rowel from a Chihuahua spur. Oh, was this it, sis? And you're the very one. You took it from the deputy, no? Yes, Manuel. But he was dead. He was shot here on this ridge and tied to his horse. Don't, Diablo. Kill him. Did you ever see anyone around here wearing Chihuahua spurs? No, no. But on this ranch which is owned by the goods and your Selby, I've seen horses that someone used them on. Oh, they were hurting much bad. This I told the deputy and he came here to watch. There your headdress, fellow, how it feels. Oh, bueno. Gratis. Do you have a horse? He's on the other side of the ridge. If you think you can stand it, I'd like to have you. Go to Rosario and tell the sheriff all you know. And give him a silver bullet. Bueno. It's only four hour ride. And senor, you are muy hombre. You'll try to find my Rosie to see? Yes, Manuel, we'll try. Come on, Toto. Scout around Shelby's ossiana. Late that afternoon, Carlos Shelby decided to take a ride. Being unable to read without spectacles. An aged, ugly and prison broken outlaw whom he was pleased to call Caliban, helped him put on his polished English boots and spurs. The bookish Buccaneer of the Plains was in the midst of a quotation from Paradise Lost when the old ex convict interrupted. There you are, boss. Stomp your feet. Caliban, what's wrong with the spur on my left boot? There's a harsh sound I can't see. I was just gonna tell you about it, boss. You lost one of the gold rowels with the long spikes. I replaced it with another rowel from a common pair of spurs. Of course, it won't hurt a horse as much. It was your fault that I lost the Chihuahua, Rowl. Your job is to keep my things in condition. Maybe this will help you remember your curate. No. Poor Stone. At that moment, the Lone Ranger and Tonto were engaged in making a close observation of the hacienda from a clump of cottonwood trees. Like most structures of its kind, the old Spanish ranch house was built like a fort. The flat roof was supported by beams which projected through the walls. A low slotted parapet surrounded the roof. Taking in those details, the masked man remarked, taro, the racienda was built to be defended. There is certain to be a hatch in the roof. What hatch got to do with Don Diablo Shelby may well be Don Diablo. Tonight we'll try to enter the hacienda through the roof. During the dark hour just before moonrise, the Lone Ranger and Tonto led their horses as near the hacienda as possible, then crept forward to the base of its rear wall. Hearing no sound from the rooftop, the masked man shook a loop out of a lariat and cast it at the end of a beam which was just visible against the sky. Caught. Kimosabe. Me got moccasins atter me go first. All right. Go ahead. Pulling himself upward, hand over hand, the Indian quickly reached the beam. After pausing a moment, he silently hoisted himself over the parapet. The masked man joined him and stood listening. Hoops drummed into the hacienda grounds. The rider reined up. He entered and soon faced Morton Carlos Shelby. In the library, he was saying, I didn't go with the other fellas. I went to town. And you can be glad that I did. Yeah? How so, Logan? The sheriff is headed here with a big posse and a search warrant. That's ridiculous. And what evidence could he obtain? A search warrant? All I know is that he's coming. Suppose he finds that girl? He won't. The patio. There's an old Spanish well with a plank cover. Indian slaves dug it in the days of the Conquistadores. I've been told that it's more than 100ft deep, but dry. Yes, or what? Get the girl and throw her into it. When the Lone Ranger finally found the hatch and descended a ladder to an alcove off the library, Carlos Shelby was alone. A mask man. Stand who you are, Don Diablo. Your satanic rule in the Murado Valley is finished. What do you mean by calling me Don Diablo? Useless for you to try to bluff me. The rows on your spurs are mismated. One is the original Chihuahua. Rowl I have the other, but follow me. Hermoso Ranch. After your raid. You can't convict me on evidence like that. Where's the girl you carried off? Questions bore me, Taro. Here. Kim, Sammy, watch Shelby. I'll see what's going on. As the masked man dashed out of the library, Mort half dragged, half carried the shrieking Rosie thing to the patio. He was yelling, shelby, get your cover off that well. I'm trying to hold you. I don't. My dear, make me brave. I will get you. Give me a hand with this wool. I can't. She's trying to claw my eyes. Hold on to her. She gets lazy. Go. Let go. Hey, who's that mask man? He's coming after. Plug him, Logan. This will fix him. You missed. In the light of the newly risen moon which flooded the patio, the Lone Ranger's right handgun blossomed red. Logan dropped his revolver and staggered back, clutching his shoulder. At the same time, Mort whirled to face the masked man. Thrusting Rosita in front of him. He drew a Colt, but before he could fire, the girl sank her teeth into his wrist. He let go of her with a L. I'll take that gun. Rosita, get back from the well. Pick up the other man's gun. Disarming Mort, the Lone Ranger started to back away. But in his anxiety for the safety of the excitable girl, he turned his eyes away from the man. For an instant, Mort closed with him, pinning the masked man's arms with a hole that made it impossible for him to use his guns. The hired killer tried to topple him into the pit. Both men tripped over the well cover and fell. The Lone Ranger let go of his guns and, straining every muscle, broke Mort's grip. Scrambling for safety, he dragged his adversary along. The fight had gone out of the gunman. He lay on the flagstones of the patio, eyes closed, as Rosita picked up the Lone Ranger's guns and returned them to him. Here, senor, let us not finish these pigs who have killed my father and my Manuel. No. The law will punish them anyhow your Manuel is alive. A lie. Is it true? At that moment, Carlos Shelby leaped out of an open window in the library and landed in the patio. Tato leaped after him anymore. Stop. Kill me. Stop. As the Lone Ranger rushed to intercept him, the would be conquistadore headed toward the well ahead of him. Both the mouth of the pit and its cover appeared a circular shadows on the surface of the patio. Mistaking the hole for the lid, the near sighted Satanist dashed to its brink. Although the well was only 8ft in diameter, he saw his error too late to jump. As he fought to stay himself and regain his balance, some of the weakened stonework gave way. He toppled and plunged headlong into the pit. Once started, the cave in of the ancient masonry inside the well continued with tons of stone cascading into the depths which had swallowed the arch criminal. A short time later, the sheriff was had been summoned by Manuel was in the patio with several deputies. The lawman had put Mort, Logan, Trent and Caliban in irons and had dispatched a strong posse to the range to round up the rest of Shelby's night riding terrorists. As the excitement abated, the Lone Ranger and Toto joined the sheriff near the well. Well men, let's put the COVID back on before some decent person falls in. Let's lid is on the infernal hole. So it is finished. Bueno. Nice man. Murado Valley owes you a heap. What do you think she'll be aimed to do? Establish himself as a dictator here. Had he succeeded, he would have tried to expand his power by terrorizing the whole southwest. Eltado, it's time that we rode on. Oh, you must go so soon, senor? Yes, Julita. Adios, friend. Adios, amigo. Senor Sheriff, do you know who the mask one is? That I do, Rosit. When Manuel gave me that silver bullet and described the man who had sent it, I knew right off that mask man is a lone Ranger. The Lone Ranger, a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated, is produced by Trendle Campbell Muir Incorporated. The part of the Lone Ranger is played by Brace Beamer, your announcer, Fred Foy. Listen to the Lone Ranger brought to you by special recording Mondays through through Fridays at this same time. This has been a presentation of otrwesterns.com and we hope you enjoyed. Please take some time to like and rate this episode within your favorite podcast application. Follow us on Facebook by going to otrwesterns.com Facebook and subscribe to our YouTube channel by going to otrwesterns.Com YouTube, become one of our ranch hands and unlock some exclusive content. We want to thank the following ranch hand, Steve who joined us recently. You too can join by going to otrwesterns.com donate send us an email podcasttrwesterns.com and you can call and leave us a voicemail 707-986-8739 this episode is copyright under the Attribution Non Commercial Share Alike Copyright. For more information go to otrwesterns.com copyright have a great day and thanks for listening.