Lone Texas Ranger (1945)

Directed by Spencer Gordon Bennett
Written by Robert Creighton Williams
Starring
- Wild Bill Elliott
- Bobby Blake
- Alice Fleming
- Roy Barcroft
- Tom Chatterton

Once again, Wild Bill Elliott and little Bobby Blake step into the roles of the sharp-shooting peaceable man Red Ryder and his youthful and unexplained sidekick Little Beaver. Once again, the backlot western village is meant to be some location in the nebulous West, which means anywhere left of the Mississippi. Once again, the plot revolves around subterfuge and deception, as the only way to tell a western story was with a mystery.

This time out, it’s a while before we meet our stars. Instead, we start in Silver City (state unknown), so named because of the Carter Silver Mine. The local sheriff, “Iron Mike” Haines (Tom Chatterton), is a lawman renowned for the number of miscreants he’s either brought to justice or gunned down where they stand. One of his duties is to guard the silver shipments as they come from the mine to leave on the stagecoach, and it’s just this task he’s discussing with town blacksmith Weber (Roy Barcroft) when a new man rides into town — a burly cowpoke named Bradley (Jack Kirk), looking for work. Weber immediately hires him on to work his own spread, and sends Bradley on ahead to the Weber ranchhouse to rest from his riding until the blacksmith is done for the day.

“So you’re saying we should ‘forge’ an alliance? Ha ha! Hoo!”

That night, Iron Mike does indeed guard into town the wagon driven by Mr. Carter (Frank O’Connor) — in fact, Iron Mike’s the only security. They make it without incident to the mine offices on Main Street, but while Iron Mike goes into the offices to report to Carter’s niece Sally (Helen Talbot), an unknown gunman from the balcony fires on Carter, drops into the wagon, and lights out of town. Iron Mike soon gives chase, as the outlaw and an accomplice race out toward the Weber place.

Aha, you might think, this new man Bradley is in on it. And you would think that because you’re supposed to. But no — the outlaws get there and surprise Bradley off his cot. He’s plenty relieved when the sheriff follows them in a few minutes later, but then he gets plenty dead when the sheriff deliberately shoots him dead and tells one of robbers to trade his louder shirt for Bradley’s plainer one. (It’s a good thing that, according to classic Western movies, bullet wounds don’t bleed.) Sheriff “Iron Mike” Haines, the renowned lawman, is the leader of the criminal gang.

“Sorry, but my shirt is far too fancy to go messin’ it up with bullet holes.”

Iron Mike then hauls Bradley’s body back into town, where Sally Carter is despairing over the fate of mine company without the cash influx that that stolen silver shipment would have represented. Fortunately, Sally has a friend in the form of — the Duchess (Alice Fleming)! Yes, Red Ryder’s well-to-do and sassy aunt is a settled citizen of Silver City, just as she was a longtime resident of both Dodge City and Las Vegas in previous installments. Thanks to a loan proffered by the Duchess, Sally will be able to make payroll and keep the company open. What’s more, the Duchess offers the help of her nephew, Red Ryder (Wild Bill Elliott), who is — get this — currently a Texas Ranger. Now, in the course of the three movies we’ve seen, Red has been (a) a horse breeder for the U.S. Army, (b) nothing in particular before he was appointed interim sheriff of Las Vegas, and now (c) a Texas Ranger. I’m thinking, this boy can’t hold a job!

Red shows up in Silver City soon, accompanied of course by Little Beaver (Bobby Blake). You know, I’m trying really hard not to recycle every smirking Batman-and-Robin joke when dealing with Red Ryder and Little Beaver, but seriously — how many Texas Rangers travel with a juvenile sidekick (or “ward” or whatever you want to call it)? Coupling with Red’s stated aversion to settling down with a woman in his life, I find it almost impossible to believe that the creative powers-that-be were blind to the jokes and winks they were setting up.

Life handed him lemons. Nobody knows where he got the ice.

Red throws in to help Iron Mike find the bandits. The bait will be simple; the next stagecoach shoul be bringing in the Duchess’ loan money for the mine from her bank in another town. Bringing the stage into town, Iron Mike and Little Beaver drive the coach, while Red rides behind as a guard, where he can easily be picked off by the sniper in the rocks above the road. That doesn’t quite work, though, and Red manages to run to ground most of the bandits assembled to kill him and rob the stagecoach. And just before Iron Mike gets the drop on Red, he whirls and shoots him down.

Problem solved? No, not even in a feature as short as this. Red’s the only one who knows that Iron Mike is actually the bandit chief (Little Beaver having conveniently stayed with the stagecoach), and before the sheriff dies, he pulls from his pocket a letter he’d just received from his college graduate son Tommy, who’s on his way back to Silver City. Iron Mike’s dying wish is for Red not to let his son — or the entire town, really — know that the man they all admired was a criminal. Then Iron Mike dies, leaving Red Ryder with something rarely seen in these movies: A moral quandary. Does Red tell the citizens of Silver City the truth about their much-vaunted lawman? Or does he fudge the facts and allow the ideal to stand apart from the reality?

“Why do all of my dates end like this?”

By that simple twist, Lone Texas Ranger is rendered more memorable than the other Red Ryder features I’ve seen. Half of the tension in the second half of the movie stems from Red and the secret he decides to keep, while the town immediately starts a collection for a monument in Iron Mike’s honor. Not only that, but when the upstanding Tommy (Jack McClendon) shows up in town too late to bid his father farewell, the townsfolk (with Red’s endorsement) call him into service as their new sheriff. At least this is a lawman whom Red knows he can trust (after all, he’s got a shirt almost exactly like Red’s), but how long can it go without Tommy, sworn to bring his father’s killer(s) to justice, finding out who pulled the trigger?

The other half of the plot is the continued depravements of the robber gang, now under the sole leadership of Weber. The scheme, naturally, is to force the mining company out of business, clearing the way for Weber and his associates to buy the mine cheap and make a fortune. (In a rare case of timestamping for movies that usually exist only in a generic and stylized Old West era, mention is made of William Jennings Bryan — yes, the “Monkey Trial” guy — as the Democratic candidate, campaigning as a free silver advocate and thus impacting the worth of the mine. That would put the events of this movie in the run-up to the 1896 election. Remember: movie reviews aren’t just entertaining, they’re educational!) That means more trouble from Weber’s remaining troop of thugs, including mine accidents and such. that’s an especial affront to Sheriff Tommy, as he and Sally Carter have taken a shine to each other.

“Well, I’ve got take SOMEBODY to the dance…”

With a fifty-three-minute running time, everything has to move along at a pretty fair clip to fit the story in. You can even see one of the shortcuts to a speedy resolution right from the opening scene: Weber has a pet talking raven (!) in his blacksmith’s shop that repeats random overheard phrases. Gee, do you think that that little affectation is going to come back and bite the criminal mastermind in the ass? The ethical question at the heart of the movie raises it a half a step above most of the other entries in the series. And we do end with a massive fistfight. There’s not much more you can expect from these installments.