<hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></SPAN></span></p>
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<h2><SPAN name="Chapter_XI" id="Chapter_XI"></SPAN>Chapter XI</h2>
<p class="center extraspacebot2">THE LONE RANGER RIDES</p>
<p>The lone ranger kept the mask across his eyes and
experimented with his guns. His shoulder made it hard
for him to draw the gun on his left, but he found that his
smooth speed seemed to have suffered no loss when he
drew the other shining weapon. As a test he unloaded
and holstered the pistol. "I'll just make sure," he muttered
to Tonto. Standing with his right hand straight
before him, palm down, he placed a pebble on the back of
his hand. He dropped the hand with almost invisible
speed, jerked out his gun, leveled it, and snapped the
hammer back, then down. All this was done before the
pebble touched the ground.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>Tonto grinned at the demonstration and said, "That
do."</p>
<p>The masked man sat down and replaced the cartridges
in his gun's cylinder. "So we're going to travel together,"
he said.</p>
<p>Tonto nodded slowly.</p>
<p>The Lone Ranger liked the idea. Tonto's unequaled
knowledge of woodcraft and his animal-like skill in following
a trail that was invisible to white men would make
him a powerful ally.</p>
<p>Tonto told about the cattle trails he'd found beyond
the top of Thunder Mountain, and the trail that led from
the mountain's top to the clearing and beyond into the
Basin. He told of his suspicions that stolen cattle were
harbored in the Basin.</p>
<p>When the masked man asked where Tonto had secured
the food he'd brought, the Indian evaded answering. His
pride had suffered when he had been compelled to ask a
girl to help him. He felt just a little bit like many of the
vagrant, begging Indians that were so despised in certain
parts of the country. Nothing but the urgent need of his
friend would have prompted Tonto to request those favors,
and he fully intended some day to wipe out the
obligation. The Lone Ranger didn't press the point.</p>
<p>Tonto did, however, answer many questions that had
bothered the masked man when he explained how he happened
to find the cave. He had heard shots in the Gap,
and gone toward the sound. Scrambling down a rocky
side of the canyon in the dark, he had seen a white
horse dimly outlined in the darkness. He hadn't suspected
that the horse was Silver, but instinctively he had<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></SPAN></span>
sounded the birdlike trill that Silver knew. When the
big stallion came to Tonto's side, he saw that there was
no equipment behind the saddle and assumed that Silver
was alone. He had led Silver into hiding until dawn, when
he followed the back trail to the scene of murder. Signs
there showed that one man had gone wounded from the
scene. He followed, then, the blood-marked trail until he
came to the cave.</p>
<p>"As simple as all that," the masked man commented
when Tonto finished his recital. "If I hadn't been so
nearly unconscious, I'd have recognized your whistle."</p>
<p>The two spent most of the forenoon making plans and
preparations. The masked man's wounds still bothered
him, but he felt equal to a long ride and he was eager
to get started on his investigation. He wore the mask
continually, so it would become a familiar part of him,
and not something strange that hampered his movements.</p>
<p>After their noon meal the two were ready, with their
duffle loaded on the backs of Scout and Silver. The
white horse seemed eager to be in action once again with
his master in the saddle. He whinnied jubilantly when
the cinch was pulled tight, and his great strength showed
in every rippling muscle beneath his snow white coat.</p>
<p>Tonto mounted Scout, then waited. The Lone Ranger
placed one foot in the stirrup and shouted, "Hi-Yo Silver!"
The big horse lunged ahead. "Away-y-y," the ringing,
clear voice cried as the masked man settled in the
saddle. Silver was a white flame leaping ahead, with silky
mane and tail blown straight out by the wind, like the
plumes of a knight in white armor. Sharp hoofs hammered<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></SPAN></span>
on the hard rocks in a tattoo that thrilled like
rolling drums. Silver had his master in the saddle, Tonto
close behind him. The master's voice rang out again to
echo both ways in the canyon, "Hi-Yo Silver,
Away-y-y-y." Tonto, watching from his saddle close behind
the mighty Silver, whispered, "Now Lone Ranger
ride."</p>
<p>A stretch of flat tableland extended for several miles
between the rim of the Gap and the foot of Thunder
Mountain. After the first thrilling dash, the Lone Ranger
slowed Silver to let Tonto take the lead and set the
route. The Indian knew exactly where to go to reach the
mountain's top without passing through the Basin. The
masked man was not strong enough for great activity, but
Tonto anticipated none for the time being. The purpose
of this trip was merely one of observation. The Indian
intended to point out cattle trails he'd seen, and study
them. In so doing he and the Lone Ranger would get
further away from the danger of the cave's proximity to
the Basin killers.</p>
<p>Tonto felt sure that the ride wouldn't overtax the
masked man. He knew his white friend was perfectly at
home in the big saddle and perhaps far more comfortable
than he'd be chafing with inactivity in the cave.</p>
<p>After an hour or so of riding, the ground became more
rocky and difficult. Just ahead the mountain rose majestically.
Thunder Mountain didn't divulge her secret
dangers. At first the ground sloped only gently upward,
with an occasional large tree that gave soft shade. Like
a seductress in green, the mountain lured the stranger on
with promises of things that were ahead. The trees became<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></SPAN></span>
more frequent; then larger trees with tangled vines
in close embrace made travel harder. As the climb became
steeper, leafy discards which had rotted to soft loam gave
birth to rank weeds.</p>
<p>The inclination increased so gradually that one wasn't
aware that it was changing. The Lone Ranger realized
quite suddenly that his horse was laboring. The weeds
had become a crazy tangle, merging with the vines that
hung from overhead like spectral streamers. There was a
constant clammy caress of invisible cobwebs on the Lone
Ranger's face, and the less subtle, sometimes painful
brushing of tree trunks against his thighs.</p>
<p>Silver's coat became blood-flecked where briars and
brambles raked the skin. The riders had frequently to
crouch or be swept from the saddle by low, far-reaching
branches. None but Tonto could possibly have followed
this weird and devious route.</p>
<p>Daylight in the woods was at best twilight. Human intrusion
brought a constant cacophony of cries and chattered
complaints from birds and beasts. No breeze could
possibly penetrate this fastness, and the breath of the
decaying things was hot and fetid as it rose from the
ground. The most distant horizon was within arm's reach.
Underbrush so high that it reached overhead rose from
slime that was sometimes ankle-deep.</p>
<p>The ride seemed endless, but the end came without
warning. Breaking through a particularly dense cover of
berry canes with briars that hurt, the riders found it
clear ahead. The land was hard and almost arid. A
thought made the masked man smile despite his exhaustion.
Old Thunder Mountain needn't be so proud—her<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></SPAN></span>
head was bald. Wind and rain had swept the summit clean
except for a few gaunt stumps of lightning-blasted trees.</p>
<p>Tonto was at the masked man's side, offering to help
him from the saddle.</p>
<p>"Now we rest," he said. "You need rest plenty bad."</p>
<p>"I'm able to go on, Tonto. It's good to be riding again."</p>
<p>Tonto shook his head. "We stop here. You rest. Tonto
talk."</p>
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