An oil lamp, hanging over an old printer's press, flickered gently as the door at the rear of the shop was opened and a big man stepped into the poorly lit room. Automatically, the old man turned away from his work, reaching for the twist of tobacco on his work bench as he did so. Tom Jacobs looked up and prepared to greet his visitor, before nearly choking on his chewing tobacco when he realized the visitor was a masked man. It was the Lone Ranger, of course, and he was there to ask about some possible crooked business which he suspected had started right there in the printing shop...