Hi there everybody, this is Ken Maynard and Tarzan.
Inviting you once again to join us at the old Diamond Cay Ranch for a real story of the West.
Tarzan especially likes our story today because he had quite a bit to do with it, as you will see.
I'm not going to tell you what the secret of the Three Horn Ranch is until the very end,
but I think you'll find it surprising and worth waiting for.
So why don't you make yourself comfortable in that old stuffed chair over there and listen.
How about it, huh?
See, I'll do just that, Ken.
And while we're waiting for you to tell the story, I want to tell the folks that from the tack room of Ken Maynard's Diamond Cay Ranch,
we're bringing you stories of adventure, stories of circus life, fascinating transcribed tales of the Old West
where cowboys still follow the cattle trails.
There's stories of rodeos and parades, colorful legends of the Red Man, hidden gold and buried treasure.
The exciting tales from the Diamond Cay are told by Hollywood's champion of western stars, internationally famous Ken Maynard.
Now while Ken's getting ready to spin his newest Wild West yarn, here's something to think about, buckaroos.
Do you know what every cowboy's favorite pastime is?
Well, after the chores are done, whether it's watering the horses or pitching hay around and up the cattle,
the boys just kind of drift together to chat a bit.
And the first thing you know, one of them is telling a story.
Cowboys just love a good story, and that's why we think you'll get a big kick out of having a set of real western stories
to hear any time you have your chores done.
I'm talking about the exciting record album of Ken Maynard's Wild West stories.
They're made just for you and with a personal message from Ken to you right on the record.
When you put the needle down on the record, you'll hear Ken say,
Hello there, Jimmy. This is Ken Maynard with a story just for you.
Yes, sir, Ken will call you by name, whatever your name is, and he'll tell you two complete exciting stories.
Why, you'll be the talk of your neighborhood, buckaroos.
And you know how you can get this Diamond K record album?
Just send your name and address with a dollar to records in care of this station.
Now these records are standard 78 RPM speed for the regular kind of record player that everybody's been using for years.
And say you'll play your records over and over again.
So send yours now. Well, here's Ken.
Well, Tarzan and I were out riding one morning in the north range of the Diamond K.
It was a clear bright day. I could see a small pile of dust coming towards me from several miles away.
Tarzan went and looked around at me as if to say, Don't worry, I'm always on guard.
In a few minutes the rider came close enough for me to recognize old Jim Badger of the Three Horn Ranch next to mine.
I waved a greeting and he thundered up puffing and panting and rained on his horse.
Sure glad I found you, Ken, he said, when he got his breath.
We're having trouble over at the Three Horn, and I want you to come as fast as you can.
There's nobody but you can help us. Let's go, I said, and off we went.
Tarzan loves a good gallop, but Jim's horse, Star, was so tired I held Tarzan down so he could keep up.
What's the trouble at the Three Horn, I called to Jim as we rode along?
Ken is pretty bad. You know my foreman, Bart Wangler?
Well, he came to me two years ago with a bad reputation, but I took him because I was short-handed.
He worked out fine, as far as I could tell.
He's tough but fair, and he could keep the rest of the men in line.
Lately I took to missing a few cows out of the west herd.
Not many, just a few at a time.
I thought for a while they'd strayed.
Then they kept disappearing regularly, and I knew something was up.
Then last night a funny thing happened.
Bart came into the ranch office about sundown after making sure no one was listening, told me he knew what was happening to my cows.
He said, you were rustling them, Ken.
Well, that's where he made his mistake. I know you better than that.
So I asked him how he knew this, and he said one of the boys was chasing a yearling and ran a few miles over into the Diamond Caye,
and he saw some of my bran hidden in an aroya in the south Badlands.
I told him to keep quiet about it, and I'd handle it myself.
Now you see why I need you.
What do you think is going on, Ken?
Well, Jim's story sure stopped me for a minute.
First time I'd ever been accused of cattle rustling.
But the whole thing was clear to me.
This Bart Wanger had been systematically rustling Jim's cattle for some time and hiding them on the Diamond Caye
so that he could change bran to something else and move them to his own place or ship them out.
It did puzzle me why. If his scheme was working so well, he suddenly told Jim I was behind it.
There must be a deeper plot here than I thought.
I'd never met Bart, but I'd heard of his reputation as a gunfighter,
and after what he said about me, I was mighty anxious to meet the gentlemen.
Leave it to me, Jim, I said. If Bart Wanger needs a lesson, then between the two of us, I think we can give it to him.
We reached the Three Horn Ranch house a little afternoon and sat down to a hearty lunch.
About an hour later, three horsemen rode up to the ranch house.
One of them, Jim, said it was Bart.
The other two he didn't know, and I'd never seen them before either.
Bart came out the porch and didn't look at me but spoke to Jim.
He was respectful and looked so sorry all this had happened.
Mr. Badger, he said, taking off his hat,
I know you and Mr. Merritt have been friends for a long time. It's too bad.
I knew you wouldn't believe me, so I went and got a couple of witnesses.
You tell them, boys. The two men were standing on the steps looking rather sheepish and half scared.
Well, Mr. Badger, it's like this, said one of them.
Me and Joe was riding along Dry Creek Road last Thursday night,
and we seen some of the Diamond K boys running some cattle
across there about a mile from the Big Butte.
There was a moon, and we swear they was running three-horn stock.
We thought it kind of funny, but guess they knew what they was doing.
When Mr. Wangler come to town today and ask around if anybody's seen any Diamond K boys
mucking around with three-horn cattle, we spoke up.
That's about all, yes.
Well, Jim didn't say anything, and Bart looked at me for the first time with a half sneer on his face.
What do you got to say now, Mr. Maynard?
Jim was looking at me too, sort of puzzled.
I got up and stood so I could watch the two so-called witnesses in Bart's hands in case he made a move.
The Diamond K ranch boys haven't been rustling with or without my knowledge a new north, Bart.
In the first place, you can't change the three-horn brand to a Diamond K,
and in the second place, nobody who really wanted them cows would leave them in the badlands
without grass or water enough to live on.
I think you're trying to make trouble between the three-horn and Diamond K boys for some reason of your own.
My advice to you is to tell the truth before you get trouble started that you can't stop.
Bart put on a hurt look for Jim's benefit and said,
Well, Mr. Maynard, it's my duty to protect my employer's stock.
We know three-horn herds are on the Diamond K after disappearing from here,
and I got two witnesses who saw it being done.
The one that caused trouble was going to be mighty hard to keep my boys from raising a ruckus when the word gets around.
With that, he stalked away, followed by his two prized witnesses.
As I told Jim, if Bart had been telling the truth, he'd have brought the sheriff
because he had enough circumstantial evidence to make a case,
but he was only trying to make trouble for some reason of his own,
and before we got through, he'd made plenty.
Well, folks, you'll just have to excuse me for my story for a minute,
because I want to sit back and get comfortable and tell you about another favorite subject of mine.
Speaking of comfort, you know, if a man doesn't feel comfortable, he just can't do his best at work or at play.
And just for your information, I feel my best when I'm dressed comfortably.
And you know, my favorite outfit, whether I'm working or just loafing around, is my K-shirt and a pair of jeans.
You'd be surprised how many buckaroos are agreeing with me.
Kids all across the country are writing in and asking me for a K-shirt like mine.
I've told you about it before.
It's a comfortable cotton shirt made like a T-shirt in the color of desert sand
with my own Diamond K brand in bright red on the front and Tarzan me looking right at you.
If you want to join the fellows and girls that are wearing my own private K-shirt,
all you've got to do is send me your name and address.
Tell me what size you wear, size of 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, or 12, and then close a $1 bill for the fellow that makes them.
Pretty fancy shirt for just a dollar.
And you'll get a lot of wear out of your K-shirt, too, because it's a fine-clothed cotton,
and the blazing colors are put on by the special hand-screen process.
So, send a day. Be sure to send your name and your address and your size to K-shirt.
Care of this station and slip in that little old $1 bill.
Your shirt will be sent post-it prepaid from Hollywood.
Now, back to the story.
Well, Sir Jim round up a few of these boys that he knew he could trust, and we all headed back to Diamond K.
I told him not to believe anything they were told about my boys doing a little rustling on the side.
It was a stick by Jim, and we'd get to the bottom of the strange business.
I found out they didn't like Bart at all, but were afraid of him.
He had a bad temper and played favorites too much.
Also, they said lately he'd taken to going away by himself and staying all day somewhere.
Since then, he'd been meaner than ever.
Well, it took us most of the night to find the three-horned herd, but we found them,
half-starved, huddled in a blind canyon, just where Bart said they were, and we drove them home.
I told Jim he ought to get rid of Bart as fast as he could, but Jim said if he did that,
he'd never find out the reason behind Bart's funny doings, so he'd keep him a while and watch him close.
I didn't go for that idea, and I was right, because Bart kept on spreading lies,
saying my boys had been caught squirrely and I had stepped in and covered up for them.
Got so when three-horned and diamond-k boys would meet in town, there'd be angry words.
I knew if something wasn't done, there'd be gunplay before long.
Then more trouble comes, plague poor old Jim.
A bunch of his best dogs took sick and died.
The windmills kept breaking down, and one night that ranch house burned completely,
Jim just barely getting out in time.
None of this could be traced to Bart directly, but I knew it all tied in together.
Jim was getting discouraged, and about this time, they came and offered to buy the ranch
from some fellow named Dixon in the next county.
We didn't know.
Well, sir, that did it.
I knew then what was going on.
Either Bart or somebody acting through him was trying to run Jim off.
I dropped everything I was doing and went to stay with him in the temporary shack he was using
until the house could be rebuilt.
I asked the cook if Bart had been going off like he used to.
The cook said, no, not in about a week.
I asked him if Bart took food with him the times he went.
The cook said, sure, I always pack some grub for him.
I swore the cook to sick or sick and told him to let me know the minute Bart asked for another grub pack.
I waited several days while Jim was supposed to be thinking over the offer to buy.
Then one night the cook wrapped on my door and whispered that Bart had asked him to pack up
a bag of food because he was going to be gone maybe two days checking water holes in the North Range.
This was what I was waiting for.
Next morning I let him get his start and Tarzan and I started out after.
It wasn't easy trailing him without him knowing it, but Tarzan is an expert in taking cover and following the tracks.
We followed him four or five hours into the wild range of hills until he disappeared behind a big overhanging cliff.
I hid Tarzan and told him to wait for a live whistle.
After I crept forward a few hundred yards I could see Bart busy with picks and shovel and hammer
following the gray vein along the canyon wall, occasionally putting a sample in the sack.
I let him work until he got tired and started back without ever seeing me.
Then I went and got a few samples of that rock myself.
I gave him a head start and going around another way Tarzan beat him in by a good hour.
Then I showed Jim the samples and told him how I got them.
He nearly hit the ceiling in excitement and was all for shooting Bart down the minute he laid eyes on him.
But I calmed him down and told him his troubles were over and the mystery was solved.
Bart had been trying to cause a range war in the hope Jim would get killed
and trying to scare him every other way so he'd sell out because Bart wanted that ranch and wanted it bad.
But now Jim had to do was to show him these samples and tell him to get going fast.
If there was any trouble I'd be right pleased to help because you see those samples were pure silver
and the now famous Badger Mine was the ticket to the Three Horn Ranch.
You know Ken, that was really a new twist on a story and believe me I was interested every minute.
Now I bet you young buckaroos listening feel a lot like I do.
You never get enough of hearing good stories.
That's why I think if you haven't already ordered your Diamond K record album of exciting Ken Maynard stories
you're losing time that you could be enjoying them.
You know this beautiful colored album contains four sides of stories,
two complete big eight inch pure vinyl light absolutely unbreakable records of regular 78 rpm speed.
And don't forget they're made just for you with a personal message from Ken Maynard, Hollywood's champion of western stars.
Now just wait till you hear Ken call you by name.
He'll say, hello George this is Ken Maynard with a story just for you.
Yes Ken will call you by name no matter what your name is and he'll say it right on the record.
Now they're personalized just for you.
It's the biggest value I know of for just a dollar.
Now send your name and address and a dollar bill to Records and Care of this Station
and your album will be mailed postage prepaid right from Hollywood.
Be sure your name is in the letter so Ken can say hello to you.
Now don't wait any longer to get in on all this fun.
Now here's Ken to tell you about his next exciting story.
Well folks it's time to bring our story round up to a close.
This is Ken Maynard and Tarzan.
Closing up the tack room at the Diamond Cay Ranch till I see you next time
when I'll tell you the story of the lost city of the Incas.
We'll be looking for you and in the meantime get your one dollar bill as a mail now
for some real western fun. So long.
You've been listening to Tales from the Diamond Cay,
stories of adventure told by Ken Maynard, internationally famous cowboy
and Hollywood's champion of western stars.
Tales from the Diamond Cay was produced and transcribed in Hollywood.