The trail was dry and dusty, and the sun beat hot upon the parched ground. A hot breeze swirled dry dust into mini cyclones, bringing no relief to the sun-scorched land. Two men rode in silence beneath the merciless sun. Each man was familiar with the trail upon which they rode.

Neither the Lone Ranger nor Tonto had travelled that trail in more than six years. Tonto had once hunted small game in the area through which they rode, particularly in the canyon which was their destination.

For the Ranger, memories of the trail carried great pain. He remembered the last time he rode it as if it were yesterday. He could hear his brother's voice calling a dismount to rest their horses while Collins, the traitor who was ther guide, rode on ahead. Not one of the six Texas Rangers suspected he was setting them up for ambush. Back then, the Lone Ranger was known as John Reid, the younger brother of Captain Dan Reid, who led their small posse on the trail of the notorious Cavendish gang. He and Dan were as inseparable then as they had been as boys. As he checked the cinch on his saddle and spoke softly to his horse, Dan stepped to his side. "One of these days, one of those horses is going to answer you, John."

Both of them laughed and Dan looked toward the bend in the trail beyond which Collins had gone. "It will be a huge relief to put Butch Cavendish and his gang behind bars," he said.

"It certainly will, Dan. Then the good people in this part of the country can rest easy once more."

Dan swung his gaze back to his brother. "Once we're done here, I'm going to head home to work on the cabin. Linda and Danny will be here before too long, if they were able to join that wagon train she wrote about in her last letter. Feel like coming along? I could use the extra help."

"You just want me to do the cooking," he had replied with a laugh.

Dan clapped him on the shoulder with a chuckle, then returned to his mount as Collins came around the bend with his report that he'd spotted the gang exiting the far side of the canyon. Not one of them knew it was a blind canyon with a headwall that rose straight to Heaven. That conversation was the last one he and Dan ever had.

His keen eyes scanned the ground where they had lingered that hot afternoon. He reined Silver to a halt. Hearing Silver's hoofbeats cease, Tonto turned Scout's head and rode to his friend's side. "What wrong, Kemo Sabe?"

The Ranger was quiet for a moment. He was not used to being overcome with emotion. His gaze remained on the trail as if seeking signs of six men and their horses, stopped on their ride, signs long since washed away.

"This is where we stopped that afternoon, while Collins scouted ahead. I had a brief conversation with my brother. It was the last time I ever spoke to him."

Tonto grunted softly in understanding. There were no words he could offer to comfort the Ranger. He had not forgotten the grief he had seen in his good friend's pale eyes when he informed him the other Rangers had not survived the ambush.

With one more look at the ground, the Ranger urged Silver to a walk again. Minutes later, they entered the canyon called Bryant's Gap. The passage of time had not dulled the Ranger's memories. He could feel the shock of realization that they had ridden into an ambush. He could hear his brother's voice on the breeze, calling them to scatter and take cover as the first shots rang out.

He dismounted and Tonto followed suit. The Indian took Silver's reins and led both horses to the cave where he had treated the Ranger's wounds and nursed him back to health, so they could drink from the cool, fresh spring and stand in the shadow of the rockface, out of the hot sun. There was nothing he could do for the Ranger this time, except let him have time and space.

Alone with his memories and his thoughts, the Ranger looked around, his eyes drawn to canyon floor where his friends had bravely returned fire, despite the outlaw gang's better vantage points and protection behind the rocks of the canyon rim. Not one of them considered running. They fought back courageously, though hopelessly outnumbered and outgunned, until they fell, one by one. He walked slowly to the place where Dan had fallen beside their friend Will, and where he himself had taken bullets to his head and shoulder, felled beside his brother and left for dead. He squatted beside the spot, touching the hot ground, once soaked with blood, including his own. The ground was quiet; the ghosts were at rest. They had gotten their justice.

After a few moments, the Ranger rose and walked across the narrow canyon floor to the six graves that were the final resting place of five brave men and the identity of the Texas Ranger called John Reid. He knelt beside his brother's grave, gently resting his hand on the dirt that covered the finest man he ever knew. He closed his eyes, seeing Dan's smiling face with his mind's eye. His heart felt lighter. His brother would approve of his mission to bring justice and order to the wild west, one outlaw at a time.

As he stood in the silence of the canyon, the Ranger recalled when he had heard of the wagon train massacre outside Fort Laramie. A brief investigation revealed the sad news that his brother's wife and baby son, for whom he had vowed to care, were on that ill-fated wagon train. They had not survived. He swallowed a renewed surge of grief and regret.

"I'm sorry, Dan. I couldn't save them, nor could I bury them here with you. I let you down."

Long minutes passed before he rose and stood tall. He was not meant to die in that canyon with the other Rangers; he had a greater purpose. Providence had guided the angle of those bullets to deflect off bone and miss major blood vessels. Young and fit, though severely weakened by blood loss, he had quickly recovered from the wounds that had spilled his blood into the dust. For that, he owed Tonto his life. The life he lived honored the men who slept for eternity in that canyon. Dan would have been proud of the code by which he lived, that he upheld the law, allowing reason and not emotion to dictate his actions. Dan would have been proud of his only brother.

He walked slowly to the cave, once more awash with memories and emotions. He stood beside Silver, stroking the great stallion's neck until the moment passed. When he swung into the saddle, Tonto also mounted.

As he gathered the reins, he said, "Thank you, Tonto."

"For what, Kemo Sabe?"

"For giving me the space I needed, for what you did for me back then, for riding with me now."

"You Tonto's friend. Thanks not necessary."

The Ranger smiled at his faithful friend. "Let's get out of here."

They turned their horses toward the canyon's single outlet and rode off, leaving behind the high walls and narrow floor, the wind and the dust, and the graves of six brave men, five of whom paid the ultimate price in the pursuit of justice.