Who Was That Masked Man, Anyway?
“Yes, Miss Gomez.”
“I think I should warn you, Franklin, you’re becoming a serious problem. What would your parents say if I gave them a call?”
“You can’t.”
“Why?”
“We don’t have a phone. We use the one at Pearlman’s Candy Store.”
“Well, I’m sure I could write to your parents.”
“I could intercept it.”
“That would be breaking the law.”
“Miss Gomez, my ultimate purpose is the extermination of the most rascally and dangerous criminal in the world.”
“Franklin, how would your parents like it if I informed them that you copy Mario’s homework?”
“Miss Gomez, if my father knew, he would feed me to the boa constrictor he keeps in the basement.”
“Franklin, you are constantly in another world. With all this imagination you could do so much better. Do you know how much potential you have?”
“Yup.”
“During geography, what were you thinking about?”
“Things….”
“What things?”
“I don’t think I should say.”
“I won’t bite your head off.”
“Well, the other night, the Green Hornet got into this terrible fix.”
“Green Hornet?”
“On the radio.”
“Of course.”
“Usually his sidekick, Kato, is there to … See, the Green Hornet needs to talk to someone. But then Kato got shot. In the leg. He’ll be all right. Just a flesh wound. But, Britt Reid — that’s the Green Hornet — did you know Britt Reid was the Lone Ranger’s great-grandnephew? — he was mostly talking to himself. What I was thinking is, what if people heard him? I mean, if heroes didn’t have sidekicks, people would think they were, well, sort of goofy, right? That’s what I was thinking about.”
“All that?”
“Yeah.”
“But what about the principal products of Australia, Franklin? Don’t you think you need to learn that sort of thing?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I do know. And I think you need to focus on what we’re learning here.”
“The principal product of Australia is sheep.”
“There, you do know.”
“Miss Gomez?”
“Yes.”
“I think ‘The Green Hornet’ is much more interesting.”
“But when you grow up, Franklin, it may well be that you’ll need to know about Australian products.”
“I never heard a hero who talked about sheep.”
“Franklin, you’re not a hero. Not yet.”
“But Miss Gomez, by listening to the radio I’m learning to be one. Do you want to be a teacher all the time?”
“Do you know, Franklin, though I’m willing to admit that I’ve never met a boy quite like you, I’m beginning to think a home visit will really be necessary. What’s more —”
“Miss Gomez?”
“Oh, Mrs. Welsby. I didn’t hear you come in. Franklin and I were just having some quiet time.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize … Miss Gomez, I’m … I’m … afraid this … this … telegram just came.”
“Telegram?”
“It’s for you. I’ll be glad to stay with the boy while you …”
“No … I …”
“Miss Gomez … is it very painful? Here, sit down. Let me get you a glass of water.”
“That’s all right.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to get you some water. I’ll be right back.”
“Thank you.”
“Miss Gomez?”
“Yes, Franklin.”
“Do you want me to go?”
“I …”
“The other principal products of Australia are wool and dairy stuff.”
“Yes, Franklin. You can go now.”
“Miss Gomez?”
“Yes, Franklin.”
“Is it … Mitch?”
“How did you know his name?”
“I read the Jack Armstrong Detective Instruction Booklet.”
“Oh….”
“Did Mitch … croak?”
“Oh, God….”
“Gee, I’m sorry. Honest. Really. I am.”
“HEY, MARIO! MARIO!”
“Shut your window. You always get me into so much trouble.”
“Gotta tell you something important.”
“What?”
“It’s about Miss Gomez. What happened to her.”
“What?”
“Let me get over.”
“My mother’ll be home soon.”
“Never mind. Here’s the board. Okay. Fixed here. Fixed there?”
“Yeah.”
“Coming over.”
“Be careful.”
“I am. Okay.”
“What is it?”
“Listen. Miss Gomez kept me in class, right?”
“So what? She always does.”
“And we were sitting there talking about sheep when Mrs. Welsby came in.”
“The principal?”
“Right.”
“Why she do that?”
“That’s what I’m telling. Mrs. Welsby walks in. Step. Step. She’s frowning. Right away, I can tell something’s the matter. Then I see it. She has an envelope in her hand. A telegram! The organ begins to play.”
“Frankie, there’s no organ in school.”
“No, listen! Mrs. Welsby reaches out and, pausing ever so slightly, she offers the telegram to Miss Gomez. The lovely Miss Gomez pales. After a moment of painful hesitation, she rips the telegram open. Zzzzzt! She gasps. Aurggg! Her face goes chalky white. Whish…. I could see her heart pounding. Bump. Bump. Her left you-know-what bouncing.”
“Oh, God….”
“No. It’s true! Little beads of sweat break out on her beautifully formed but trembling red, moist lips. She sits down. Umph! She starts to cry. The tears trickle down her face. Drop. Drop. Music swells.
“Knowing what I must do, I stand up and walk forward. I, wealthy, handsome Chet Barker, student-about-town, move forward calmly and say, ‘Miss Gomez, has one of your loved ones passed to the great beyond?’ ”
“You said that?”
“Well, close. And she says —”
“Frankie, I don’t want to hear.”
“No, listen.”
“I don’t want to hear!”
“She whispers, all throaty, ‘Oh, God.’ ”
“Geez….”
“Mario …”
“What?”
“It’s seven-thirty.”
“So what?”
“Time for ‘The Lone Ranger.’ ”
“A fiery horse with the speed of light. A cloud of dust and a hearty ‘Hi-yo, Silver!’ The Lone Ranger rides again!
“With his faithful Indian companion, Tonto, 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 hoofbeats of the great horse Silver. The Lone Ranger rides again!”
“Come on, Silver! Let’s go, big fellow! Hi-yo, Silver, away!”
“At the end of yesterday’s episode Bud Titus stormed out of Sheriff Whalen’s office. As he walked from town, fuming to himself, he began to realize how much his fit of temper had cost him. Not only had he quit a job he liked, he had also upset his plans to wed Mary Simpson, the daughter of a wealthy rancher. As we join him today, he has decided to go to Mary and tell her everything.”
“Mary, the sheriff said I could get my badge back when I cooled off. It’ll be mighty humiliating to go back. But if you say I should —”
“Not until after you’ve proved yourself, Bud. And I think I can help you.”
“How?”
“Early this morn
ing Dad and his ranch crew went to the north range to round up strays. I rode along with them just for the exercise. On the way back I saw two men eating by a campfire and I was sure one of them was wearing a mask.”
“Think they were Tipsy Malone and Todd Farrell, those two polecats I let slip through my fingers?”
“It could be.”
“I’ll hide my horse in the brush and go on foot to take them.”
“Do be careful, Bud.”
“The Lone Ranger and Tonto were saddling their horses when a voice spoke sharply and Bud came out from behind the trees.”
“Stand where you are!”
“Kemo sabe, man with gun!”
“Get your hands up! Both of you!”
“Do what he says, Tonto.”
“Ah.”
“That’s it. Now keep ’em high. Ha-ha! Well, you’re not the two I expected, but you’ll do for the time being. Here! I’ll just take your guns, mister.”
“Are we riding to town?”
“I am, but you’re not. I’ll ride that big white stallion. Whoa, there. Whoa, boy.”
“Silver! Jump!”
“Hey!”
“Bang!”
“Silver’s jump make him lose gun!”
“Right, Tonto. Now, get to your feet, Titus.”
“Pretty smart, getting your horse to help. What do you intend to do with me?”
“After I unload your gun, Bud, I’ll let you go.”
“Let me go? After I tried to shoot you?”
“You thought you were doing your duty. Here’s your gun.”
“I don’t savvy this.”
“When you get back to town, give this to the sheriff. He’ll explain.”
“A bullet? A silver bullet?”
“And, Bud, don’t try sneaking back here. Tonto and I will be watching.”
“The chagrined Bud Titus headed back to town. But meanwhile, Tipsy Malone and Todd Farrell, the two outlaws, were riding his way when Tipsy stopped suddenly.”
“Whoa, boy. Well, Todd, look who’s up ahead.”
“Why, it’s Bud Titus, that tin star who booted us out of town.”
“Rein up, mister.”
“What!”
“Put your hands up.”
“I guess you recognize us, don’t you, Tin Star?”
“Yeah, I know you. Murdering polecats.”
“Climb down off that horse and be quick about it. Take his gun, Todd. Got it? Now search him. He might have another one.”
“Hey, Tipsy, take a look at this silver bullet.”
“What! Where were you when a masked man gave you that bullet?”
“It’s none of your business where I was.”
“Indian with him? Indian named Tonto?”
“Yes, but … No, I mean to say … Well, go ahead. You got all you want from me. Why don’t you shoot me?”
“Not just yet. Todd, take the rope off his saddle. We’ll tie him up and leave him here, then follow the trail back and find that masked man.”
“Right.”
“Sheriff Whalen was still on the lookout for the two outlaws when he came upon Mary Simpson. She told the sheriff how Bud had gone after the two men she had seen.”
“But a few moments ago I heard a shot and I’m afraid he —”
“Mary, he shouldn’t have gone after those men alone. He should have come into town for me.”
“Sheriff, we’ve got to do something.”
“I’ll ride out and see what’s happening.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“Help! Help!”
“It’s Bud, Sheriff! I know his voice.”
“Whoa! What happened, Bud? Who tied you up?”
“I’ll tell you while you cut these ropes. But hurry.”
“Meanwhile, Tipsy Malone and Todd Farrell had followed Bud’s trail back.”
“There’s the campfire, Tipsy. And hoofprints of two horses. The big ones must have been made by that white stallion.”
“But they’re gone. What’ll we do now?”
“Pick up their trail and follow ’em.”
“Get your hands up!”
“What the —?”
“Tipsy, behind you! The masked man!”
“You won’t get me. Shoot him, Todd!”
“Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!”
“Meanwhile, as Sheriff Whalen and Mary Simpson cut the ropes that bound him, Bud Titus told his story. But the old sheriff had been strangely quiet during Bud’s recital of his adventures.”
“Bud, I’m afraid you made another mistake, and a mighty big one this time.”
“A mistake, Sheriff? I don’t understand.”
“Hey, listen! Gunshots!”
“Sounds like we might be too late. Get mounted! But whatever you do, don’t shoot the masked man or the Indian. Now, keep under cover. Mary, you keep behind us.”
“Look! There they are. All four of those crooks.”
“Ha-ha! Look again, Bud.”
“Hey! The masked man and the Indian have made the other two prisoners!”
“Hello, Sheriff.”
“Well, I see you got the ornery mavericks.”
“As a matter of fact, Tonto and I were getting ready to ride into town and turn them over to you.”
“I’ll be glad to take them off your hands right here. I knew those two would ambush you if they got a chance.”
“They might have done that if it hadn’t been for Bud.”
“How’s that?”
“When we let Bud go, I thought he might try to come back and take us prisoners again. So Tonto and I moved back into the timber a ways.”
“Then we see Malone and Farrell come looking for us.”
“The rest was easy.”
“Well, they aren’t the first outlaws to learn it’s not healthy to draw a gun on you.”
“Sheriff, I think Bud has learned a lot in the last twenty-four hours.”
“Yup. I agree with you. How about it, Bud?”
“Believe me, Sheriff, I’ll never make the same fool mistakes again.”
“Well, Tonto and I will be going along. Adios, Sheriff!”
“Adios, mister.”
“Say, Sheriff, who was that masked man, anyway?”
“Why, Mary, that masked man is the Lone Ranger.”
“What the … ?”
“The Lone Ranger!”
“Hi-yo, Silver, away!”
“FRANKIE, I think you better go home now. If your mother finds out you’re here and learns about that board and if she tells my ma —”
“Mario, who do you like better — Iceman, the Green Hornet, or the Lone Ranger?”
“Iceman. Nothing hurts him.”
“Fang-toothed tigers can.”
“Still, he wins.”
“Iceman’s okay. But I really love the Lone Ranger. I mean, he was a real person. And that mask…. Nobody knows who he is. You know what’s the best part?”
“What?”
“Right at the end, when someone always says, ‘Hey, who was that masked man, anyway?’ That’s so swell.”
“It’s dumb.”
“Isn’t!”
“Sure, it is. If he’s supposed to be so famous, how come people never know who he is?”
“The Lone Ranger wants to keep his true identity secret.”
“Tonto knows.”
“Tonto is his sidekick. Real heroes are always secret. I mean, that’s almost the whole point of being a hero! Nobody knows they are heroes.”
“It’s past eight, Frankie. My mother will be coming and … Go on. The board’s still up.”
“Wait a minute. One more thing.”
“What?”
“Did you do your English?”
“Frankie? Frankie!”
“It’s your mother, Frankie. Better get back!”
“I’m going. What is it, Ma?”
“Where are you?”
“Working on my English!”
/> “Come down here. Right away!”
“What’s the matter?”
“Your father needs to talk to you. He’s in the kitchen eating supper.”
“Did I get into school trouble?”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
“Just go in.”
“Could you just tell me what I did?”
“Nothing! This is family business.”
“ ’Lo, Pop.”
“Oh, there you are. You tell him yet?”
“No. You should.”
“Tell me what?”
“It’s about Tom.”
“Did Tom get killed?”
“Blessed Mary! What a thing!”
“Ma, I’m just asking.”
“Frankie, look at me.”
“I am looking, Pop.”
“We got an army notification today. Tom’s coming home this week.”
“Oh, wow!”
“Now listen to me, young man. You know your brother was wounded.”
“Did you find out how it happened? Did he capture some prisoners? Or save someone? How many medals did they give him?”
“Relax, Frankie. Relax. We don’t know much. His wound may be bad. Or only something small. They didn’t tell us.”
“And I was too afraid to ask.”
“Aw, Ma!”
“But whatever it is, Frankie, he’s going to need plenty of rest.”
“And quiet. And we’re going to treat him special. He deserves that.”
“I know.”
“Tom’s done what he needed to do, and we have to make sure things are good for him. He’s a hero.”
“I just said I know that, Pop!”
“Now, to begin with, we’re giving him your room.”
“My what?”
“Your room.”
“But —”
“We can’t turn Mr. Swerdlow out. We need the money. That leaves your room.”
“But that’s not fair.”
“We’re not talking fair. We’re talking what we’re doing. Your brother needs a private place.”
“Where am I going to sleep?”
“The basement.”
“The basement!”
“I’ll fix it up.”
“Pop, there’s nothing but junk down there. And water when it rains. And it stinks when it gets hot. And roaches and coal dust! Besides, I think Tom would rather have his own room.”
“Frankie, this is the way it’s going to be.”
“What if Mr. Swerdlow moves out?”
“We don’t want that.”
“But Pop, what if — just suppose — he does?”
“Then — if we don’t rent it again — Tom can have his room and you can have yours. Frankie, your brother has made a whole lot of sacrifices. For us. For the world. This is the least you can do. Now, what’s the matter?”