"Yuh—yuh mean," said the cowboy, still unable to fully comprehend, "I'm tuh go an' report that he shot at me, an' ask that he be judged fer it?"
"Right."
"But damn it all, I can't do that. Who ever heard o' bein' shot at an' then reportin' it tuh law instead o' shootin' back an' settlin' the matter on the spot?"
The Lone Ranger explained that there had to be some charge filed against Bryant Cavendish to put him in jail. Once there, he could be questioned endlessly until his part in the cattle stealing and the murders was brought out. Merely killing the man would do nothing to solve the killing of the Texas Rangers, of Gimlet, or the man who fired at him the night before. Yuma finally agreed to follow the Lone Ranger's advice, to do whatever he was told; but went on record that he was sure "goin' tuh feel like a damn fool sissy" when he went "tuh the law tuh beef about bein' shot at."
The two boarded the masked man's powerful horse. Before they left the rocks Yuma said, "One thing more, stranger. Jest who the devil are you?"
"If I wanted that known, Yuma, I wouldn't be masked."
Yuma spoke slowly. "When I took ahold of yer shirt, I felt somethin' in yer pocket. It was shaped mighty like a Ranger's badge. I been wonderin' if maybe you ain't a Texas Ranger, an' if so, why the mask?"
"Perhaps I used to belong to the Texas Rangers, Yuma."
"Well—" Yuma paused. "Look here, I can't go on callin' yuh 'stranger'; jest what should I call yuh?"
"My closest friend," the masked man said, "calls me 'The Lone Ranger.'" He heeled Silver, and the stallion lunged forward. Yuma had to cling to keep from spilling. "Hi-Yo Silver, Away-y-y-y," the Lone Ranger shouted.