With friends like this, who needs enemies? (Part 1)

Smash Comics # 47 (October 1943)

The story opens with a trio of criminals discussing how no one has claimed the $1 million bounty on Midnight's head when one, Brain Baroni, announces that he intends to claim the reward.

His compatriots are--understandably skeptical--until Baroni explains that his plan is to get to Midnight, "through his friends."

On that ominous note, we leave this issue's bad guys and drop in on said "friends' having a most un-friendly debate about relative levels of crime-fighting competence.

You know, you don't have to let Sniffer stick around, Dave-o.

This latter-day Lincoln-Douglas debate is briefly interrupted by Doc Wackey demanding quiet so that he can complete his latest invention. (Gee...I wonder if this mystery invention will wind up resolving some conflict in the story?)

The Wackey interlude completed, we return to Sniffer scolding Dave for his ingratitude. Sniffer asserts that he's taken proactive steps to preserve his sparring partner's life. When Dave inquires as to the precise nature of this salvific boon, Sniffer announces that he's created "an exact double" to decoy would-be Midnight murderers.

While our protagonists resume their debate, outside the Dave Clark house Brains Baroni and entourage are plotting to bum rush the radio announcer (whom they've pegged as a "friend" of Midnight) and compel him to lead them to Midnight.  They're delighted, however, when it seems their quarry has dropped right into their hands.

When the smoke clears, the thugs are certain they've cut "Midnight" clean in half with their gunfire.  Brains and Stiletto are already busy planning how they'll spend the $1,000,000 bounty when the terrified Bruisesr announces:  "MMM-M...M-M-M-Midnight! H-He's alive!"  At this news all three of the would-be assassins take off in a wild sprint, bursting through a picket fence in the process. This makes the immediately following panel all the more curious:

Presumably the three knew what Dave Clark looked like (since they were
planning to kidnap him.)  Dave is clearly not in his costume.  So why
would these hardened criminals see Dave and assume he's Midnight? 

Lone Rider (part 2)

Today we finish out the Lone Rider's opening adventure, "Double Trouble" from Lone Rider #1 (APR 1951)

When last we left the Rider, he'd just come to the rescue of the little brave Bright Feather, who previously saved the Rider and provided cover fire with LR's own handguns!  (Don't ask...it's too convoluted to explain...just see the previous post here.) After bandaging up Bright Feather's wrist (we're never given clear specifics, but it appears the little guy only suffered a flesh wound from a grazing bullet), the implied sidekick informs Lone Rider that he caught a glimpse of the "evil white man" who had fired on them both.  Based on Bright Feather's description, the Rider concludes they're looking for someone with a large facial scar.

So...I don't know that I'd describe the typical
facial scar as looking like "war paint."

At some point (and for some utterly inexplicable reason) the off-panel assailant(s) quit firing at our heroic duo, and they set off to retrieve Lightnin' (the Rider's trusty steed).  Unfortunately, Lightnin' has disappeared!  Lest this seem problematic, the story provides a totally plausible in-narrative explanation:  the horse might've been blindfolded.

So, while the Rider was bandaging Bright Feather's
wrist, some ne'er-do-well scuttled down and
blindfolded this wild and mighty stallion and
led him away before the Rider could return? 
Suuuure he did.

The Lone Rider acknowledges there's no point in trying to follow Lightnin's tracks on foot.  Instead he and Bright Feather head back to the Indian camp for a spare horse.  Once there, Bright Feather pleads to accompany the Rider, but is rebuffed with the eminently rational explanation that there will likely be trouble and that where the Rider is headed is, "no place for a boy."  Our hero then heads off in search of his pilfered horse...and epistemic shenanigans again ensue.

Seriously?  This chief is sooooo lucky there
was no Child Welfare office back then.

In the course of his pursuit, the Rider comes across a man who's steer has fallen down a ditch.  Being the right-neighborly masked gunman that he is, the Rider helps retrieve the animal, but once having done that is shocked to find himself staring at the business end of a revolver!

That evening, the Rider is settling down by his prairie campfire and musing on the events of the day when he hears a twig snap and quick draws his pistol.   Yes, you read that right.  The same man who didn't notice the absence of his guns and belt at the beginning of the story has a hair-trigger reaction to a twig snap.  But it actually gets even better.

Notice who the Rider is addressing?

The Rider, who is using a borrowed horse to track down his stolen steed addresses that borrowed horse as "Lightnin'"!  (Maybe you can explain this away as force of habit...but to me it just looks like absence of editing.)

It turns out that the snapping twig is due to Bright Feather.  The Rider gently scolds the boy by warning, "You almost stopped a bullet!"  Bright Feather explains that he was following the Rider to ensure the latter safely arrived in town, when he observed a "great danger."

Thus the title of the story is finally
explained.

The Rider decides to head back to town to get to the bottom of things, and tells Bright Feather to return to his tribe.  Unfortunately, as soon as our hero meets Sheriff Steve, he's accused of being a thief and killer.

As the Rider is locked up in the county jail, we learn that he and Sheriff Steve have somewhat of a history...not that that's really helping the Rider out now.

Locking up a "long-time friend" for murder, but
you're mostly thinking about how you won't have
to pay out for his execution?
You cold-hearted Sheriff Steve.

Moments later, a young man barges into the Sheriff's office and announced that the Lone Rider has just raided the mail coach.  Slowly, Sheriff Steve puts two and two together...but not before our hero betrays his Old West moxie by trolling the lawman.

The Rider is released, and the trio charge out to intercept the Identity-Theft Bandit. Once they find their numerically-superior foes, however, our heroes promptly give up the element of surprise by loudly announcing their presence.  And no...it's not the young, rattled stage hand who puts their lives in danger by loudly narrating their actions.  It's the FREAKING SHERIFF!!!

Sheriff Steve doesn't know how to keep a low
profile.  Lone Rider has trouble keeping up with
his guns and his horse.  I just can't imagine why
there's so much crime in them there parts.😏

So anyway, our noble paladins charge right down and promptly get themselves surrounded and nearly out of ammunition.  The unlikely deliverance comes for our hapless heroes in the form of Bright Feather's tribe which arrives en masse to punish these men.  As it turns out, the desperados being led by Not-Lone-Rider are the same ones who were trading with tribe at the beginning of the story. 

Apparently, "injuns" have lots of gold...but don't
inspect any of their goods before handing over $$.
Also, I guess Bright Feather's tribe is into
referring to themselves in the generic third person.

While the braves are busy meting out high plains justice on the underlings, Lone Rider has one thief in particular that he "wants a piece of."  

Naturally this leads to your classic "oh-no-we-can't-tell-which-one-is-the-real-Lone-Rider!" dilemma.  When not even Bright Feather can distinguish the hero from the huckster, shrewd ole Sheriff Steve gets hisself an idey.

"Sensing that the Lone Rider is in some sort of strange trouble," our hero's faithful steed turns on (and thereby exposes) the imposter.

Horsey-sense, tingling!

It's nice and touching (bond between a man and his horse and all) but I have some questions.  If Lightnin' can sense when the Rider's in danger, why didn't he do so earlier--when his owner was
being ambushed on the plain? And why did Lightnin' allow himself to be led off by the Faux Rider in the first place?!

Anyway, Sheriff Steve announces that he's got a rope that'll just fit this desperado's neck, when the (STILL UNNAMED) Chief of the (STILL UNSPECIFIED!) tribe asks that he Indians be allowed to punish this criminal instead.  

I guess he's the chief on account of he's the only
person in the valley who can say "indians" instead
of "injuns."

The hombres beg, plead, and demand their "right" to go to a white man's jail.  After being reassured by the Lone Rider that the white man's laws and punishment will be "as effective and just as your own," the Chief agrees to let Sheriff Steve take the criminals back to town and stretch their necks a bit.

I'm thinking, "Our-laws-are-as-just-as-yours" probably
wouldn't work as reassurance for someone whose land
had been stolen with the approval of those same laws.

And we close the narrative loop with this moment of high plains levity.

Lone Rider (part 1)

The Lone Rider is was an example of what you might call a "transitional character."  In first half of the twentieth century, western adventure tales were a major genre of interest. This manifested in movie and radio serials, television shows, novels...and comic books.  At the same time so-called "mystery men" (e.g., The Shadow, the Spirit, etc.) and superheroes (e.g., Superman, Captain America, etc.) were pretty big deals.  It was only natural that there would be some hybridized characters that straddled these realms.

Probably the most-famous (and long-lasting) of the Cowboy-Mystery-Man hybrids was the Lone Ranger (first appearing in a radio serial in 1933). As with almost every other trope in children's entertainment at that time, the success of the Lone Ranger bred a bevy of imitators.  One such is the focus of today's post:  Ajax-Farrell's Lone Rider.

Lone Rider # 1 (April 1951)

Double Trouble

The inaugural appearance of the Lone Rider begins as many such stories did, by jumping straight into a world in which the Rider is already accepted as a force for justice in late 19th century American West.

The story begins with the Rider overseeing the transfer of goods from some white traders to an unspecified Indian tribe.

How many North American tribes are you
aware of that had trade-able reserves of
gold on hand?

The transaction completed, the Rider parts ways with the tribe.  As he rides off, however, we discover that our hero is entering the range defenseless, as Bright Feather--the son of the chief--has at some prior point pilfered both of the hero's guns in order to polish them up

So right off the bat, I've got
some serious reservations about
Lone Rider's alertness and
competence as hero.

Naturally, Bright Feather comes running out of the teepee just as our titular hero is trotting off into the horizon.  Somehow, despite the fact that Lone Rider didn't hear Bright Feather calling to him as when he was still in the camp...he did hear the little brave shouting his name across the wide open spaces of the prairie.

I mean, it's reasonable
the Rider couldn't hear...
he's a little far off--

Ahhhh...yeah.  So, No way he
didn't hear Bright Feather back
at the camp.

The Rider's musings about what in the world the little boy he apparently entrusted with his firearms could possibly want, is interrupted by a grazing bullet. Deftly taking cover, the Rider informs his trusty steed Lightnin' that they're being fired upon!

Golly, Rider!  You mean, they
don't just hate these cans?!

Despite his apparent inability to keep track of his sidearms, when the moment demands it the Rider rises to the occasion.  Hopping out from behind the safety of a rock, our hero dodges the whizzing bullets to approach Bright Feather's position.

Once there, we realize that the little brave (who has taken some shots with the Rider's pistols in attempt to give him some cover) has suffered a wrist wound.

Don't be too hard on
yourself, Bright Feather...
there's plenty of foolishness
to go around.

 
Next week, we'll conclude this exciting tale.  Will the Rider stay alive long enough to find out who's shooting at him?  Will he remember to hold onto his pistols?  Will they be loaded?  Tune in next week to find out!

The Swordsman Shanked my Idealism

Though the Swordsman was long gone from active duty Avengers roster when I entered comic-dom, the character appealed to me from the moment I first saw his headshot in one of those "all-time Avengers" compilations that would occasionally crop up.

Part of it was that I tended to like any skill-based hero (e.g., Captain America, Hawkeye, Batman, etc.). Second--as the existence of this blog attests--I always favored the marginalized or "second-string" characters.

Avengers Spotlight #22 (SEP 1989)

So perhaps you'll understand how underwhelming it was when I finally got to read a Swordsman story (in Avengers Spotlight #22).  Initially, I thought this might simply have been a one-off origin stinker. (After all, I think it's pretty difficult to make an origin story really engaging.)  But alas...the more I read about Jacques Duquesne, the less..."heroic" the hero seems.

It's not just that Swordsman is an anti-hero in the mold of Punisher, Lobo, Paladin, etc., but rather that he just seems to have no core convictions at all.  Just read the Comic Vine entry on the guy and look at how many times he tried for the Avengers, got rejected, committed some crime in response, latter joined, then got kicked out, etc.  It's a terrible farce.

If they weren't going to make Swordsman heroic, I like to think he could've at least been interesting.  He might've worked as the superhero version of having an addict in the family...someone who struggles, really tries to do right, but just keeps failing and failing.  Increasing nuance and complexity in how the Avengers (both individually and as a team) chose to respond to their dysfunctional comrade might've made an interesting commentary on enabling, intervention, etc.

But instead, I feel like we just got a poorly-written, second-tier guy with a sword...and then he died.

Anyone care to disagree?  I'd love to be shown "the error of my ways" on this one.