BIG MR. LITTLE: Small Body, Giant Evil! | Paranormal And Crime Old Time Radio
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The Black Museum. Affiliated stations present Escape. Dinner Sanctum Miss. Fight. Ass. Present Suspense. I am the Whistler.

Welcome, Weirdos! I'm Darren Marlar and this is Retro Radio, old-time radio in the dark, brought to you by WeirdDarkness.com. Here I have the privilege of bringing you some of the best dark, creepy, and macabre old-time radio shows ever created.

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Now, bolt your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights, and come with me into tonight's retro radio, old-time radio in the dark. The CBS Radio Mystery Theater presents... ♪♪

Come in. Welcome. I'm E.G. Marshall. I have a very odd subject I'd like to talk over with you. It's been perplexing philosophers for centuries. What is really real? Now, don't laugh.

I'm serious. Look, if a tree falls in a forest and nobody's around to hear it fall, has it made a sound? Must someone hear a sound to make it real? If you see something, does that make it real? Yes? Yes?

Then what about a mirage? If you think something, does that make it real? What is reality? That question was asked a hundred years ago in a third-rate European circus...

And I wonder whether you will agree with the answer they found. Can I help you with your costume, Francesca? No, don't touch me. But I... Why are you talking like this, Francesca? You never sound... You are Francesca. No, I'm Simone. Oh.

I can never tell you two apart. Do you want me to give you fair warning? Why can't we be civil to each other, Simone? Because I hate you just as much as my sister loves you. And you hate me. I don't hate you. But you love Francesca. Yes, I think I do. Don't you know that love and hate can be twin sisters? Like Francesca and me. No, I don't believe it. I can't believe it.

Only one can be real. Our mystery drama, Two Plus Two Equals Death, was written especially for the Mystery Theater by Alfred Bester and stars William Redfield and Marion Seldes.

It is sponsored in part by Buick Motor Division and Allied Van Lines. I'll be back shortly with Act One. No matter how third-rate it is, you have to feel sorry for Mario's one-ring circus this cold afternoon in Zurich. One of their stars died on stage in the middle of his performance.

He was Gerard the Great. The unbelievable, the miraculous, the incredible mechanical man. And with him, the illusion died.

Now Gerard is being buried in an obscure graveyard in Zurich, mourned by the clowns and freaks and dancers of the company who decorate the tombstone with mementos, props, bits of costume and makeup, all the real things that help create illusion. A young man, well-dressed, carrying a travel bag, joins the strange ceremony. Ah-ha.

You must be Peter, the great Gerard's son. I recognize you, even after all these years. You are Gerard's image, Peter. Welcome on this sad occasion. I took the first train from Paris. You remember me? I remember nothing. But you must remember me. No. I understand. You think if you forget, it will go away. It will never have happened.

But I am Mario, Mario Milan. When you were a piccolino so high, I taught you what little your father forgot.

The tightrope, the slack wire, the left foot take. You were my little genius, my wunderkind. Ah, yes, Mario, of course. I see I came too late for the funeral. Well, you couldn't help yourself, Peter. It was all over in a moment. The heart collapsed. You couldn't wait a day for me? My dear boy, we play Innsbruck Monday.

These are your colleagues. Come and meet them. My colleagues? Ladies and gentlemen of the company, this is Gerard's son, Peter. Many years ago, a member of our troop. No, never. Then retired to become a civilian.

He entered the unreal world of business and education to become an engineer. Not an engineer, an architect. He designed the Eiffel Tower, also the Leaning Tower and the Tower of Babel, for which he was awarded a gold medal engraved in all languages. Ah, clown. What, do you want us to cry? We love Gerard, your father. I never knew him. It was your misfortune.

When I lost Gerard, I lost a little of my hold on life. Shall we return to the city? Matinee today. Come with me, Peter. No, Mario. I'll stay a moment. Of course. Come to your father's caravan when you're finished with grief. But don't take too long. First over to three o'clock. What?

Why, have you forgotten? Overture and beginners, please. Three o'clock. Arrivederci. I'm... I'm sorry. What? Excuse me. I said, I'm sorry about your father. What are you waiting for? It's not good to be alone with the dead. I need no one, thank you. My name is Francesca. I dance in the ballet. And I helped your father with the illusion. I brought him to life. Huh.

You brought him to life. I wound him up with this key. Oh, yes. Yes, I remember that. Then he came out of the toy box. I loved your father, too. You and Mario? Everybody loved him. He was the only gentle man I ever knew. My father, gentle? There was never any violence in him. He was all kindness. What? Gérard, do you believe that?

I know it. It was his greatest illusion. You sound as though you hate him. He deserted my mother and me. How should I feel? Is that why she didn't come here? No. She died three years ago. Excuse me.

Gerard always said your mother took you and ran away from him. He was a fraud, like the rest of you. Why are you so angry with us? If you could just stop acting for one moment. I'm not acting. No? When are you never? All of you. Mario Milan clowning at the grave, and you. Are those supposed to be real tears? I didn't know there were tears. Oh, make believe. Pretend unreal. A scene must be played. Cue the tears, and the tears come on cue.

Crocodile. Well, they say you can always tell real tears from crocodile tears because they burn when you touch them. So try mine. My dear friend... Francesca. Give me your hand. Try my... Your hand is frozen. Oh, you're so cold and angry. That means you're lonely.

Of course, that's why you're hating everything. I never hated anything in my life. Until you came here. And you saw how lonely you were for your father. And us. Please, Francesca. Let me warm your other hand. Give it to me. You know, you said, please, Francesca. Exactly like your father.

You are so much like him. Will that make you my stepbrother? Or your step-lover? You said that to hurt me, didn't you? I've never had a lover. I'm sorry, Francesca. I don't know what's got into me. This crazy world of illusion. You're all so strange, and you're the strangest. I... May I have my hand back, please? You haven't tried my tears yet. They've burned me already.

Well, we'd better get back to the... Wait, I almost forgot. Have you a keepsake for your father? Something to put on his grave? How can I? He gave me nothing. Then give him this. It's the key I used to bring him to life. His last illusion. Who are you?

What are you doing in Gérard's caravan? What? Don't you dare touch anything. But I... Is this a joke? Get out. Do I have to call the stagehands? Get out. And I'll search you before you leave. But I belong here. You know that. This caravan's mine now. Since when? Unless my father never owned it. Your father... Then you are Peter Gérard's?

This is altogether beyond me. Look, have I done anything to make you act this way? How could you possibly? Then what's happened? Is this revenge?

I thought we were going to be friends. Since when? I give up. All right, it's a joke. A circus sort of joke on outsiders like me. But it isn't funny. Not to me. It's turning my hands cold again. Feel. Don't touch me. Dear heaven, what now? Didn't your father tell you about me? I told you I never knew my father. What was he supposed to tell me about you? That we were...

That this was my caravan, too. You? And my father? But you said... Yes, I said... I'll move my things out after the matinee. Ah, so...

Very interesting girl. Yes, fantastic. She took me for a thief. So? She caught me going through my father's things. What were you looking for? Money. My mother said he promised me. Aha. To start that engineering office of your own, huh? Architect. Oh, you pardon. I have a friend in Paris, Marcel Roger, a brilliant designer.

We're going into business together. And it will cost you 5,000. Gerard told me often, and with pride. Ah, what's the time? Time I had a look around backstage. The manager must see everything. You're coming? Why not? There's nothing for me here. I might as well look at the animals. THE END

You must not hate us this much, Peter. I don't suppose my father managed to save the 5,000. But of course he did. Gerard was man of his word. He did? Do you know where it is? Well, naturally. He loaned it to me. To you? Well, to our company. I explain. We had three very bad months. We would have folded, sir.

Your father saved us. But my office... The money will be repaid. We now show a profit again. Give me three months and... Three months? What am I to do in the meantime? Peter, I will tell you how you can spend your three months. Yes? With us. You will close the first act.

What? Starting next Monday at Innsbruck. You're mad. Yes, I admit it. To trust a civilian with the finale of the first half is insanity. But then I remember Gerard taught the boy the act detail by detail. He will remember. He has talent.

You want me to do the mechanical man illusion? It's the only act that can close the first half. I've tried all the others and I know only the great illusion will do. Mario, don't be ridiculous. I'm an architect. Ah, ah, ah, ah, but you began life as an artist. If you do not help us, you may never get your money. Definitely.

There must be an act to close the first half. Hire an act. Ah, where will I find the time and the money? What will we do in the meantime? Damn it, Mario. Help me, please, for three months. Then you can go back to Paris with your money. It will be easy. Two whole days to remember and rehearse before we open. Francesca will help, and I, too. Now, go back to the caravan and look over your costume. No, absolutely not.

Find another animal. Peter! Mario just told me. I think it's wonderful. I'm so excited. Francesca? I have a little time now so we could start going through the act with you. What's the matter? You're not nervous, are you? No, no, no. Just flabbergasted. Why? Mario says you know the act. I think you'll be even greater than...

What is the matter with you? I meet you for the first time, and you're adorable. A half hour later, you burst into this caravan and behave like a devil. Now here you are, an angel again. But I haven't been in here with you. Not 20 minutes ago, calling me a thief and a ghoul and saying foul things about yourself and my father. Are you talking to me? Me? Yes, you. In that same costume, wearing that same face. Oh, I'm sorry. Well, it must have been Simone. Simone?

Who? My sister, Simone. We both dance in the ballet. You know, 12 ballerinas. 12! Your sister? You... You mean twins? Of course. Happens all the time with strangers. How can twin sisters be so different? Well, later, later. Now, rehearsal first. And we've got to find out how much of the illusion you remember. Everything. That's what I was running away from. Well, we'll start with after I open the toy box. I...

Oh. What's the matter? We'll need a new key for the act. I'll have to go and tell the prop man. Here's the old key, Francesca. You didn't put it on your father's grave. No. I kept it. I wanted something from my father. Take the key, Francesca. Wind me up into a wonderful illusion. Oh.

So, here we have the equation. Two girls named Francesca and Simone, identical twins, and two men, Peter Gerard, architect, and Peter the Great, the miraculous mechanical man. Two plus two. And they add up to death. How? Perhaps the arithmetic of the second act will tell us. ♪♪

And so the deadly arithmetic of illusion continues in the form of Peter the Great, the miraculous mechanical man in Mario's giant variety show and one-ring circus. One week only in Innsbruck, two weeks in Verona, ten days only in Lausanne, final week in Nancy. Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure to present the unbelievable, the miraculous...

The incredible mechanical man, Peter the Great. Ah, what have we here, ladies and gentlemen? It is the prettiest member of our giant corps de ballet wheeling in a gift box so beautifully tied with ribbons.

Is this a gift for me, Francesca? No, Mario. It is a gift for our kind audience. Ah, our pretty Francesca opens the box. And what do we see inside? What is her gift to you?

I tremble with suspense, ladies and gentlemen. Good heavens! It is a giant toy! It is Peter, the mechanical man! I have this magic key, Mario. Peter must be wound up! Ah!

It's going very well. What?

What are you doing backstage? I'm Marcel Roger, Peter's friend from Paris. Perhaps he has mentioned me? No, excuse me, I must go on again. Don't you ever relax. I'm working. I'm working.

You were splendid, Peter, as usual. Here is a surprise for you. I permitted him to wait backstage. Marcel, what the devil are you doing here? If you'll excuse me. Certainly, sir, thank you. It's been an experience waiting back here. Peter, fantastic. Yes, I suppose it is. When I got your letter about the delay, I had to come and see for myself. See what? The real reason for the delay. Twelve ballerinas. Twelve?

Yes? No. What are you really doing here, Marcel? You didn't make a special trip. I had a stopover between trains. Peter, you must come back to Paris. There's no need until we can afford to take the office. I explained in my letter. There's every need. There are people to be met and cultivated. Learn.

Who can become clients. You can do that. I haven't the flair. We agreed that you'd be the contact man. This is no life for you. All right, all right, Marcel. When does your train leave? In an hour. And you'd better not miss it. Huh? I'll come to Paris as soon as I've collected my money.

Which is it? Does this bear costume shrink? Or have I gained ten kilos? I think it is the kilos, Mario. Your bicycle is having its problems, too. What a disgrace for an impresario to ride a bicycle dressed as a bear. With a red ribbon around his neck. Allow me. Ah, but we all must do everything, you two. Yes.

Please, the ballet. Half the girls are not fully buttoned. Ah, I hear my cue. Are you buttoned, Francesca? Can I help? Will a kiss help? I'm buttoned. Meet you right after. Francesca? Simone. Simone.

I take back the kiss. It was not received. I can never tell you two apart. Shall I give warning? Why can't we be civil to each other, Simone? Where are you meeting, Francesca? Up in the fly gallery, as usual? Ah. Have we been that obvious? Transparent. The fly gallery is the only private place we can find. High over the stage. Private for what? What do you talk about there, up above the stage? Yourself? And Francesca. And me? Simone? Now and then.

I wonder how you can be so like her on the outside and so different within. Oh, you fool. What do you think my saintly sister is hiding from you? Every woman is like me inside. No, Simone. You want Francesca to love you? She despises you as I do. She's only nice to you to help Mario. You're lying, Simone. And you lied about my father, too.

Why do you always attack me? You don't like that, huh? You want women to be magical illusions. But some of us are too honest. You're not being honest. You're being vicious. Then go up to the fly gallery and wait for her. She's all magic now. But when you meet the real woman behind it, will you be able to love her, Peter, the great illusionist? No!

Parked house tonight, Peter. Very good. I think I will report on finances to you. Yes? After I check the box office, I come to your caravan. Or, uh, are you up in the gallery tonight? Oh, uh-huh.

Does everybody know? No, no, not everybody. You have been wonderfully discreet, but as manager, I must know everything and say nothing. It will be interesting to see what happens. What should happen?

You don't find Francesca interesting? Mario, how can Francesca and Simone be sisters? They're so incredibly different. Ah, the patineur is about to begin and we need the snow. Since you are for the fly gallery, Peter, you will oblige by sprinkling the skaters. The snow is in a brown paper bag waiting on the scaffold. Eh...

Sometimes I wonder where all life is waiting in a brown paper bag. Francesca. I'm coming. I'm coming. These stairs are harder than the dancing. They take my breath. Hello? It is Francesca. Of course. What's the matter? I had an accident. What? An accident? An accident?

Oh, let me help you sprinkle the snow. Yes. What accident? How? When? I kissed Simone by mistake. Now, don't laugh. I'd like a guarantee of identity, please. You could kiss me and see. No, no.

Wait, I've got better proof. See? Ah, the key. What are you doing with that? Oh, I keep it handy. Just in case you need winding up. I suppose the rest of the company thinks I do. Simone said I avoid everybody. Honestly, she's impossible. But it's true, isn't it?

You're getting to like us more and more. It's still so strange. I'm being pulled two ways. Part of me loves this life and part of me... Oh, why do you always start me talking about myself? Because I want to know all about you. Simone says I talk about myself too much. Oh, never listen to Simone. She read a book once about women being slaves and she never got over it. Come. What were you going to tell me, Peter?

Francesca, in Paris, I know who I am and who everybody is. But here in Mario's show... Are we so different? Well, look at this stuff we're sprinkling. Is it real snow? If I want it to be. Ah, that's the difference between us. I never know where I stand with you people. I never know if something is real or you're just pretending it's real. Well, anything's real, if you believe it. Ah, show's over. Francesca...

Do you despise me? Simone said... Oh, never listen to her, Peter. Have you been kind to me just as a favor to Mario? How could you possibly think that? Simone said... Listen, you must be patient with her. She's afraid. Of me? No, of losing me. She needs me. She wants me to need her. I need you, Francesca. No.

You don't mean that. I do. I... I'm afraid to say it. Help me, Francesca. You need the key, Peter. Here. Against your heart. Come to me. Oh. Oh. Say it. I... I love you. Oh.

It took you long enough. I ran down. And what would happen if I lost the key? I'd run down forever. I'll never part with it. Nor I. Peter! Peter! It's Mario. He knows we're up here. Come down from the gallery. There's nobody up here. Come to this stage, Peter. I want to talk to you. You can't ask a man to leave heaven.

What is it like up there in heaven? All magic. Come down to earth for a moment. You took your time getting here, you know. Oh, unless you look like angels recently arrived from heaven. And you look like the devil. It's all this snow. I can't stand cold weather. Here, Peter, a gift from the box office. What gift?

Your 5,000. Pay it in full. You don't mean three months have passed already? Two months, two weeks and four days. Now you can go back to Paris and build your bridges. What about closing the first half? I have some possibilities. I... I can't desert you. Will you go back to Paris? Francesca...

Do you want me to go? I... Francesca has nothing to do with it. I ask again. Will you return to Paris and a safe life? This is your last chance. I can leave any time. You cannot. The poison is seeping into your soul. In another month, it will be too late. Poison? He means me. Francesca, be quiet. Peter...

Will you go back to sanity and reality now or never? I... Francesca, I'm not me anymore. I'm part of us. We add up to more. Is it the same with you? Yes. Mario, invest the money in the company for us. All except 100. I want you to spend that. On what? A dinner for the company. A wedding dinner. Whose? Ours. Francesca...

You want to marry him? Yes. And does Simone... What about Simone? Does she want this marriage?

Does Peter know he will have to leave with Simone, too? No, no, she'll leave. She'll never come back. Can you promise? I swear it, Mario. What is all this? Family squabbles? I can learn to get along with Simone. I don't want you to, Peter. I don't want to share you with her. She'll leave the company. I know it, Mario. I swear it. You have honor, Francesca.

I take your word. So, a kiss for a bride-to-be, a handshake for the groom-to-be. Oh, you have a hand of iron, Peter. And the impresario blesses you. Go, go, go. Be married. Bye. Simone. Simone, can you hear me? I know you are listening somewhere.

I know you heard her. In heaven's name, Simone, go. Go forever. Francesca once told Peter that when she and her twin sister Simone were children and used to play make-believe, their mother would say, why can't you be yourself?

And they would answer, "We want to be all ourselves." And their mother always replied, "Only one self to a person."

Is that true? Must all of us be limited to one self? Or can we be many people? And what happens if we are? What do all the different selves add up to in Act Three? Act Three

It was an amusing custom a hundred years ago to serenade newlyweds with a chivalry, a noisy concert of banging pots and pans, shouts, whistles, anything that would make a racket.

And the members of Mario's Little Circus are outside Peter's Caravan, serenading the brand new Mr. and Mrs. Peter Girard. Ladies, ladies and gentlemen, please, please, ladies and gentlemen, we thank you. We thank you for the concert. We also thank you for refraining from the bad jokes and platitudes customary at this time. Oh!

Now, I remind you, please, I remind you that we have a performance this evening at 9 o'clock and that a champagne supper will be served on stage immediately after the show. So, do you remember, please, do you remember the first words we heard when we were apprentices in variety? It was, Overture and beginners, please. Thank you for the overture. Now, give the beginners a chance. Overture

Oh, I got rid of them, Francesca. Three hours to curtain time. We can relax and rest. A kiss for the groom? Well, thank you, but take off your veil, darling. I'm... I'm being kissed through a colander. You hardly spoke a word to me all afternoon. That's not like the real you. Isn't it? Well, don't be cryptic. That isn't like you. I... What's the matter?

Nothing. You don't have to be frightened of love, darling. I wasn't with your father. Why should I be with you? Francesca? Simone. No, this is a practical joke. Yes, they put you up to it as a... Please don't, Francesca. Simone. Oh. Stop it. I... Please, dearest, don't tease. Not now. Show me the key. What key? You remember. In the gallery. You said it was a test to tell you apart. You would always carry it so I would know it was you.

The key that winds the mechanical man. You're Francesca. I can't be mistaken. Even that time you kissed me. I've been tricked. She couldn't... How tricked? You can't tell us apart. What's the difference? Tricked by both of you. You wanted her. You'll have to take both of us now. Peter and Francesca. Peter and Simone. No. Let me out of here. Simone.

You swore you'd get out of my life. You promised I'd never see you again. And you believe me, Francesca. You are so deliciously naive. You'll believe anything. Please, Simone, don't do this to us. Keep your promises. It's not too late.

And leave you two to live happily ever after. What a sweet dream. No, Francesca. You go away. I've got your man. Don't try to fight me. I'll tell him, Simone. Simone.

I'll tell him everything about you and me. And he'll drive you out if he believes you. If he understands you. Could anybody understand and believe? You devil. You devil. Peter. Peter. Are you up in the gallery? I'm up in hell. I hope you'll be here. I looked everywhere else first.

What's that you've got? Souvenir of the box office. The cashier's pistol. Oh, no. You sound like Francesca. Are you? I brought the key. See? You should have brought the music box. The miraculous mechanical man blows his brains out to music. If he can't pull the trigger, wind him up. It's her fault. Simone broke her word. She promised she'd go away. She swore we'd never see her again. But she didn't. Why?

Because I love you and she hates it. How did she do it? She tricked me. Tricked both of us. She... Oh, what difference does it make? It's done. Francesca, look at me. There's got to be a way out of this. We've got to help each other. You've been concealing something. Tell me the truth about Simone. You know her. My twin. She's a part of me.

Oh, Peter, there's no way out of this. I can't believe that. You're saddled with Simone for the rest of your life. No. We can't help each other. We've got to, Francesco, or she'll destroy us. She has already. You belong to Simone, Peter. She can't hold me. Give me a chance to work something out. I'll talk to Simone. Will you wait here for me? She won't listen. Just let me try. Will you wait here? Yes, Peter.

Yes. Yes. I won't fail. Echo the groom. Four cases of champagne. There was not room enough in my caravan to store all the bottles, so I took the liberty of using yours. Where's Simone? Simone?

Gone forever, no? She wasn't here when you came in? No. Mario, that 5,000. I need it. In cash. It's your money. I want it now. As soon as possible. Am I permitted to ask for what? No. So be it. One must always obey the creditor. It is in the box office. I will get it. Ah, the bride at last. With her luggage. Hello, Mario. I'm moving in.

And I am moving out. It's all yours, Simone. I also am moving out. I love Paris. Don't try to follow me. I won't have to try. It will be easy. Simone, I don't know what kind of hold you have over Francesca. I don't know what you want to do to me. But if you want to humble me, I'm begging. Please, don't hurt us.

You crawl like your father. Damn you. All right. All right, listen. Mario's bringing my money over. Five thousand. It's yours if you'll let us go. You can't buy me out. You haven't got me. I've got what Francesca wanted. I won't go near you. I'll never touch you. Am I so hideous? You didn't think that the time you kissed me by mistake. Shut up.

How many other times did you make the same mistake up in the gallery? In other places? Did you ever stop to think about that? It never happened again. Yes, you need Francesca for that.

For what? For lust. Oh, you call it love. Go right ahead. Francesca is willing, and I am an understanding wife. Francesca is always willing. She's all magic and illusion for every man. Your father was only one of them, your father. Damn you. Damn you. No, no.

Peter, no, please. The key, the key. What? Simone? Francesca. No, Simone. You're Simone. Francesca. You understand that everything you have told me is evidence and must be sworn to. Now, you have no idea why he killed her.

None that you could understand, Inspector Feldman. No motive to suggest money, jealousy, deceit? Yes. He was deceived, but only by himself. How do you mean? Was there another man? There was another woman, Inspector, but only in both their imaginations. She was an illusion of both. That is not proper evidence. Now, this clock key...

Can you explain why it was found in the hand of the deceased? I have told you. It was the prop in the illusion act along with the music box. She wound him up with that key. He came to life. Yes, the mechanical man. But that was on the stage. Oui. Then why was it found in this caravan, in her hand? I don't know. I ask you again. Where is the accuser?

I don't know. He will be found and arrested. What's that music? It is the music box that accompanies the mechanical illusion. Peter, you fool. Peter.

Why did you come back? This is the accused? Carrying that music box? Peter, be careful. This is Inspector Feldman of the police. He is... Peter Gerard, I arrest you on suspicion of the premeditated murder of your wife, Francesca Gerard. Not Francesca Simone. What? Not Francesca Simone. I kill Francesca.

Simone. What is he saying? What is he doing? He is leaving us, Inspector. Leaving this world and retreating into the mechanical man. Not Francesca. Simone. Who is this Simone? The alleged name of the deceased was Francesca. They were one and the same. Two women in one poor, unhappy mind.

She called herself by different names. But which did he murder? Both, Inspector. And now himself as well. You will never try him for murder, Inspector. You have lost your man and I have lost a friend. Francesca, wind me up. This is his last illusion.

May I have the key, please, Inspector? This key is evidence. What will it do? Wind up your case? The key for a moment. Thank you. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you. But the mechanical man does not move. We must not disappoint our gracious audience. Francesca...

Wind him up to pay his respects. Ah, bravo, Francesca, bravo. Peter Gerard has come to life. The mechanical man is alive. See, ladies and gentlemen, how naturally he bows to you. And now...

He bows to the lovely Francesca. And now he... And now he... And now he...

The miraculous mechanical man has run down for the last time. But tell me this. If the illusion dies, must the man die too? Is reality a separate thing from dreams? Or are both equal parts of the whole? Living and dying together as they did in Peter Gerard and the miraculous mechanical man and Francesca and Simone, the two girls in one.

I'll be back shortly. It's an odd story, isn't it? Peter Gerard never found the key to the mystery of the twin sisters in one, Francesca and Simone. And so he died too, because the two of him loved and hated the two of them. Two plus two equals...

equal deaths. Our cast included Marion Seldes, William Redfield, Robert Dryden, and Sam Gray. The entire production was under the direction of Hyman Brown. And now, a preview of our next tale. Ah, Mr. Morrison, on time. Good side. Join me? Now then, in just a few moments, your client, Mr. Everett Marshall, will emerge from that building across the street.

He's a tall, stout gentleman. Oh, there he is. He has that blonde girl on his arm. See them? Yes. They're headed for the cafe just up the block. And take this key. It will let you into the building. Walk up the stairs. Do not take the elevator to the second floor. First door on your right, you'll see the number 215. Open the door with the same key. Go into the office and wait for him. What do you mean?

Wait for him. In five minutes, he shall receive a telephone call and he will come back to the office. As soon as he is inside...

Shoot him. Radio Mystery Theater was sponsored in part by True Value Hardware Stores. This is E.G. Marshall inviting you to return to our mystery theater for another adventure in the macabre. Until next time, pleasant dreams.

*door slams*

Welcome to It Takes Energy, presented by Energy Transfer, where we talk all things oil and natural gas. Oil and gas drive our economy, ensure our country's security, and open pathways to brighter futures. What do you know about oil and natural gas? You likely associate them with running your car or heating your home. But these two natural resources fuel so much more than that. More than 6,000 consumer products that we rely on every day are made using oil and gas.

Before you even step out the door in the morning, you've already used more products made possible because of oil and gas than you realize. From the toothpaste you brush your teeth with, the soap you washed your face with, and the sheets you slept on. Not to mention your makeup, contact lenses, clothes, and shoes. Oil and gas are vital parts of all these products and so many more.

Look around and you'll see the essential role oil and gas plays in our lives. Our world needs oil and gas and people rely on us to deliver it. To learn more, visit energytransfer.com. Hold the kaleidoscope to your eye. Peer inside. One twist changes everything. A woman awakens in a grotesque, human-sized arcade game.

A mysterious cigar box purchased at a farmer's market releases an ancient jinn who demands a replacement prisoner. An elderly woman possesses the terrifying power to inflict pain through handmade dolls. An exclusive restaurant's sinister secret menu includes murder-for-hire and harvested organs.

With each turn through these 20 tales, Reddit NoSleep favorite AP Royal reshapes reality, creating dazzling patterns of horror that entrance as they terrify. The Kaleidoscope, 20 Terrifying Tales of Horror and the Supernatural by AP Royal, narrated by Darren Marlar. Hear a free sample on the audiobooks page at WeirdDarkness.com.

Do you like my horror-able humor episodes called Mind of Marler? If so, and you'd like more, it now has its very own podcast. Comedic creeps, sarcastic scares, frivolous frights, macabre madness. Every week I dive into strange history, twisted true crime, and paranormal weirdness. All the stuff you'd expect from me on Weird Darkness, but delivered with dark comedy, satire, and just the right amount of absurdity.

It

Later... then... you... think. Turn out your lights... now. We bring you stories of the supernatural and the supernormal, dramatizing the fantasies and the mysteries of the unknown.

We tell you this frankly so that if you wish to avoid the excitement and tension of these imaginative plays, we urge you calmly but sincerely to turn off your radio now.

This is Mr. O. Archobler. The world, as you know, is full of small people trying to be large and large people trying to be humble. You've met them at school, at work, in public office, or handing out licenses at City Hall. Well, I bring you a play now titled, by a coincidence, Big Mr. Little. And whether you're king of the hill at the moment or at the bottom of the hill trying to scramble up,

I think you'll remember Big Mr. Little. But that happens after a word from your announcer. Inner Sanctum Mystery. Hello, this is your host, welcoming you through the squeaking door.

Not for a half hour of terror, but to tell you about Radio Nostalgia magazine. Radio Nostalgia magazine is a must for old-time radio fans. It's the magazine with many photos and stories of old-time radio and its stars. Our current issue features a 16-page article on the shadow...

All subscribers will get a free Captain Midnight decoder badge, a Captain Midnight flight patrol membership, and a flight commander certificate from the Secret Squadron. To get your copy, send $1.50 in check or money order to Radio Nostalgia, Box 8007R, Union City, New Jersey, 07087. That's Radio Nostalgia, Box 8007R, Union City, New Jersey, 07087. Send now and get a free 8x10 photo of the Lone Ranger in Tonto, boys and girls. ♪

And now, if you haven't already done so, turn off your lights now and listen to Big Mr. Little. Hello, police headman? Police department?

My name is Charles Crager. Dr. Charles Crager. I live at 872 West Street, apartment 2B. I want you to come and get me. I... I've just killed a man. Jay Drogon. Did you hear me? I said come and get me. I just killed a man. His name was...

Take it easy. No, no, I'm willing to bet on it. I'm willing... I'm telling you, sure as my name is Jay Drogan, I'm going to drink this. Jay, forget it, will you? You better lie down and get somewhere else. Let me lie down. Take your hands off me. I said I was going to drink this mess, and I'm going to drink it. Right out of the cocktail shaker. What are you doing? Hey...

He's really drinking. Holy cats, look at him. Oh, boy. Oh, that was terrific. How did it taste? Wonderful. I... I... Jay! He's sick. No, no, I'm all right. I'm here. Window. Want window open.

The windows. Who broke all the windows? Oh, my head. What time? Nine. I've got to get up. Get to work. Oh. Oh. Oh. Hmm? All dressed. Betted my clothes. Put me to bed. Oh, doesn't matter. Oh. Oh, all right. All right. All right.

All right. Hello, Jake Drogon speaking. Who? Oh, yeah. Hello, friend. Sure, sure, I'm coming down to the office. Party? All right, all right, a man gotta have some fun once in a while, can't he? I gotta wash up, I... All right, I'll be down here. Goodbye. Son of a... Where's my hat? Well, what... The wind is... broken...

Some party. Tell superintendent to get the windows fixed. Wonder what... Oh, well. Better get to the office.

Good thing the building has an elevator. Couldn't walk downstairs. Good morning there, Mr. Drogan. Oh, hello, Mr. Jensen. How is this? What the devil's the matter with this elevator? I've been punching this button for five minutes. Well, it takes time for it to come down when it's up on the top floor. It takes time for it... The devil with the time. It's always going wrong, that elevator. I wish that blasted thing would fall through the basement. Hey, it's falling. It... it fell...

Just like you said. Oh, then, Drogon, sit down. Sit down. Thank you, Doctor. It was good of you to see me without an appointment. Well, you seem to be in quite a state. What is it? It's my head. You injured it? No, no, I don't think so. You see, I had a little party at my house last night. Oh, my head. Oh, never mind, never mind.

Well, this certainly is the morning after the night before. Go to the window and let me look at you. Yes, doctor. It's my head, doctor. Every sound... It's just the morning after. But every sound... That blasted airplane up there, it's so loud in my head, doctor. No, no, don't get excited. Why does that infernal pilot have to fly solo? Blast you up there, why don't you crack up? Look. He's falling. Falling. What you said, Drogon...

really happened.

Step back now. All right, Jogging Wings. We better be moving on. Come back to my office and I'll give you a sedative and you'll lie down and rest a little while and then you'll be all right. Yeah. Coincidences. That's nothing old. That's all it was. Nothing more. Watch out, man. Watch out where you're walking. It's okay, Doc. Now we can cross. Hey, you! How do you like that guy?

Blasted cabs, they think they own the street. If I had my way, I'd smash them all up. It's happened again. Drink this. No, I tell you, drink this. I don't want to. It isn't what you want to do. It's a sedative. Now drink it. Putting me to sleep for a little while is no help. Last night. Think about last night. Perhaps you, well, drank something out of the ordinary.

Why do you look at me like that? I did. What? That drink. I just remembered. Tell me. But that couldn't be it. Tell me. Well, we got a kidding about who could mix the most unusual drinks and I was feeling high and I mixed one. Well, what was in the drink? I don't know. Well, you must know.

If I knew what was in the drink, perhaps some chemical... Wait a minute. Where do you think you're going? To the office. Well, what... Fred, my business. I've got this... No. Are you completely out of your head? You're a menace, a walking danger. Don't you realize that you can't go out of here until we figure this out, some way to stop it?

If you don't, every time you say a negative thought, it'll happen and someone will die. Do you want that? What's the matter with you? Why should you laugh? Stop it. Stop it. Well, it's funny. I go to see my doctor because I'm going out of my head and he goes out of his head. What?

What happened to you that all of a sudden you should... You said that I was a menace. When you said that, all at once, everything cleared up. Well, yeah. Me, a menace. That's the funniest thing anybody ever said about me. Look at me. No hair, half my teeth aren't my own. I've got a pot belly. I'm a menace.

Yeah, you, a doctor who's supposed to judge things only by facts, suddenly decide I'm a menace. Why? Because three screwy things happened that I had nothing to do with. That I had nothing to do with. Coincidences. Like getting four aces two times running or rolling seven 25 times in a row or anything else where two and two doesn't add up to four.

That elevator would have fallen anyway, and that plane, so his motor cut out just when I said it. And the cabs, we were both so scared that we ran off without finding out whether or not there was a good reason why three cabs smashed up. Sure, cabs have accidents all the time. So, well, does that make me a menace? I ask you. Is that the way for a doctor to talk? I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Of course you're right. I'm talking like an emotional moron. Funny, isn't it? I'm the man who has always evaluated situations through factual evidence. And even then, I've retained some measure of skepticism because I know how misleading human observation can be. Trogan, would you mind shaking hands with a blasted fool? Sure, Doc. You're shaking hands with one, too.

Now, if you don't mind, can I use your telephone? Sure. Of course. Of course. I've got to call my office, explain why I'm late. Got me scared for a while. Hello. Hello, that you, Fred? Yes, I'm on my way in. But I tell you, I'll be there in a few minutes. But I'm telling you. I know, I know, but I'm coming. Oh, stop yelling at me. Why don't you drop dead? I'm not.

Fred! Hey, Fred! What's the matter? What's the matter? I don't know. One minute I was talking to him and then... Fred, Fred, answer me. No, it can't be. You're lying. Hello? Hello? Drogon. What is it? Tell me. Someone said Fred just dropped dead. Fred?

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And now back to our The Devil and Mr. O's story of Big Mr. Little. What...

What time is it, Doctor? One. I can't just sit here. No, no. You're my responsibility. I've got to think something out. I just can't keep on not thinking anything. Great God for you. What? What's the matter with me? You can perform miracles. I'm convinced of that. All right. Then why in the name of common sense can't you perform positive miracles instead of negative ones? I don't understand. Listen to me. It's simple.

It's so simple that neither one of us thought of it. Just as you can kill people and cause accidents, why can't you do good? Good? Heal the sick, give eyes to the blind. But when it comes to killing, kill the ones who should be killed. That's right. Maybe I could do that. Wait a minute. It's all clear now.

Every miracle that you performed today was a negative miracle. The falling elevator, the airplane, the taxis, your friend. Everything negative. You haven't performed a single positive miracle. Not a miracle for good instead of evil. Well, come with me. Where? Out on the street again. Come on, Drogon. We've got to find out if you can perform a good miracle just as easily as performing the other kind. And if you can, well, you'll start making history in a few minutes, Mr. Drogon. Drogon!

Now, Duggan, now. What? On the corner, the newsman. He's blind. Well, don't be stupid. We'll go over to him. Paper. Paper, get your paper. Hello, Tom. That you, doctor? Yes. Give me a magazine. Well, anyone will do. Yes, sir. Wish it, Duggan. Wish that he could see. I am. I am. Here you are, doctor. Here you are.

How have you been? Oh, never mind about me. How about you? Huh? How about your eyes? Are you kidding? Drogan, out loud. You've got to say it out loud. Hey, Doc, what's the matter? Say it. I wish that he could see. Hey, what's going on here? Tom, you see. You do see. What's the matter with you, Doc? You can see. Leave me alone, will you?

What are you trying to do? What are you after? Can you see? Oh. Oh, I can't see. Get the devil away from here. I can't see. All right, Drogon. Come on. Yeah. What does it mean? Whatever you want to do that's good doesn't happen. But whatever you say that's evil happens. God help you, Drogon. Oh!

Well, I know I give it. Well, have a good sleep, friend Drogon. Yeah. Why did I fall asleep? I said it if I gave you. Oh. Drogon, I want you to meet my wife. How do you do? Well, it's a pleasure, Mrs. Krieger. Here, let me give you a hand. No, no, no. I'm all right. Yeah, of course. Here.

Drogon, I've told the entire story to my wife. She's clear-headed about this. I'll let her tell you what she thinks. Go ahead, Ann. Mr. Drogon, Charles thinks you're a menace to humanity. I don't think so. I think the danger to others is not through you, but through somebody else. You don't know what I mean. Well, that's understandable. I mean, you wouldn't willfully hurt anyone...

But what if someone forced you to? What if your ability to perform miracles... Evil miracles? Yes, evil miracles, was discovered by some criminal? He would force you to do what he wanted, at no risk to himself, because since the criminal was performing an evil act, you couldn't hurt him. In other words, Drogon, someone could use you for criminal purposes. Yes, blackmail the world because you thought he could kill anyone in the world. You haven't said anything, Mr. Drogon.

You do understand? Yes, I understand. What do you expect me to do about it? We don't expect you to do anything. The responsibility is beyond you or us. Whatever happens is up to the proper authorities. Authorities? My wife means that what we must do is to tell the authorities of what happened. It's a wonderful idea. Trogan, I'm proud of you. A wonderful idea? Yes, of course, but why do you keep on saying that?

You gave me a wonderful idea. But that's not important now. We've got to go to the authorities. All of us. No. Why should you say no? I'm not going anywhere. Neither are you. What? Charles, why should he say... Wait. What's the matter? Nothing. I'm not going anyplace or you. What do you mean? Sit down. What the devil for? Sit down. No, I don't see what... Doctor, I'll let you talk. Now let me...

In my own way, I figured out the world a long time ago. And that's why I was satisfied. Now, you see, it's like this. Some people are born with more than other people. One man has more brains, so he's an Einstein. Another fellow's born with good looks, so he's a movie star like that Taylor fellow.

Another has muscles that work better, so he's a Joe Louis. Another one's got more energy, so he's an Edison. Most people are born with just enough brains and muscles to get along in a plain, ordinary life like me. I knew that. So I was satisfied. Then this happened to me. All at once, all I've got to do is say something, and then it happens.

Not good things, we found that out, but whatever I say that's wrong happens. I can do what anybody else in the world would like to do, we can't do. No army or navy or air force. I can say that somebody should die or that something should burn or break or fall and it happens. At first it was the same for me as for you, doctor. I couldn't believe it was really so. Then...

Then while I was lying here, I heard you and your wife talking and I began to figure things out. And then you both gave me the real idea. Dempsey and Joe Lewis and Tunney and those fellas who had better muscles made themselves millions. So did Edison and Ford and Chrysler and the rest of them who had brains. Now, I had something.

Why shouldn't I get paid off, too? Paid off? That's right. How? You said it before. What? I think you call it blackmail. Charles! The way you both look at me, you'd think I'd said something you hadn't said before yourself. Anybody that's any good to the world, I can kill. All right. If people get paid off in this world for not letting other people starve, so I'll get paid off for not making people die. That's a pretty bad joke. Joke?

Of course you're joking. No. You don't mean that. Sit down, Doctor. Doctor, I said for you to sit down. Don't you order me around. Now stop this nonsense. I brought you some tea, Mrs. Craker. Yes, thank you, Frederick. Just put the tray down. Wait a minute. Take that tray out of here. Go ahead, take it out. But I take orders from Mrs. Craker. Is that so? Well, why don't you die? He's dead, isn't he, Doctor?

Yes. So you see, it isn't nonsense. You devil, you. Well, up to now, it's always been plain Sam. I never thought that you... That's just it.

You should never underestimate a little man, now, now, should you? Charles, do you hear me? Call the police. He hears you, but he won't do anything about it, will you? Charles, don't just sit there. This man is a murderer. He killed Frederick. Doctor, your wife is talking a little too much, isn't she? Doctor, do you hear me? I suggest you tell your wife to shut her mouth. Charles! Or maybe you'd like me to say something to her, the words I said about the servant. Suppose I said, Mrs. Crager, I wish... Stop! Will you please do something about this? And stop it. Stop!

Do you hear me? Stop it. It'll be all right, dear. It'll be all right. Of course it will. As long as we're sensible about this. Now then, what is my plan? Very simply this. You and your wife are going to help me get everything in the world that I want. Yes, everything. What I tell you to do, you will do. Letters.

I will decide on three influential gentlemen in our government, and three wealthy gentlemen in industry to whom you will send letters explaining about me. They won't believe, but at the time I tell them to, they'll die, and the newspapers will know about it. After that, everyone will believe me, now won't they? And so as not to die, everyone will do exactly as I want, won't they? Because they won't have any choice in the matter.

They send soldiers against me. I'll wish that they'll be dead, and they will be dead. And soon, from Washington to London to Moscow, everyone will be doing exactly what Sam Drogon wants them to do. And that'll be wonderful, won't it? All the good people of the world doing exactly what one little man wants them to do. Well, you haven't said anything, Doctor. You understand what I'm talking about, don't you? Yes, well...

It was inevitable. Of course, I won't want you and your wife to leave here. Now then, we'd better have this man's body removed, then we'd better get to work. Or have you any suggestions? Do you mind if I have a drink? Drink? Not at all. Not at all. A drink started all this, didn't it? Go right ahead, Doctor. Thank you. And you, Mrs. Crager, you're quite all right now, aren't you? Yes, I'm sure you are, the way you sit there looking at me.

You and your husband will do exactly as I say because you're both good people and I'm deaf to good people. And you know that now, don't you? Yes, I'm sure my wife knows that. Your drink. Oh, yes. Oh, and quite a full one. Thank you, doctor. I, uh, I drink to your continued good health. Thank you.

Well, a strong one and a good one. Thank you, doctor. I... I... What? Drink? My throat, you... No. Wouldn't dare. I'll...

Charles, what did you... Charles, he's going to... Wait. Charles. Charles. You killed... Yes, the poison worked more slowly than it should have, but it worked.

Draugen, you made one mistake. You should never underestimate what good people can do. If they have to. This is Mr. O, Arch Obler. Let me tell you about next week's package of thrills and chills and blood and ideas.

It's a story about, but more of that after a word from your station. That's what gambling is all about. Some things no sensible person gambles with is his life. Every year, thousands of Americans die because they haven't learned the warning signs of heart attack. Learn these facts. The usual warning signs of heart attack are

prolonged heavy pressure or squeezing pain in the center of the chest behind the breastbone. The pain may spread to the shoulder, the arm, the neck or the jaw. Sweating may occur, nausea, vomiting or shortness of breath. If you or anyone you know experience these symptoms, call the doctor at once. If you can't reach him, get to the emergency room of the nearest hospital for more information on the warning signs of heart attack.

get in touch with your Heart Association. A public service announcement from the Essex County Heart Association and WVNJ. This is Mr. O again. Revenge. It's a very dynamic word.

When one is young, one is full of, quote, getting even, unquote. But as one grows more mature, one discovers that revenge is a very empty bubble. Unless, like the character in my next week's play, No Escape, that revenge reaches into the graveyard. It is...

They've been here for thousands of years, making their presence known in the shadows. They might be seen by a lonely motorist on a deserted road late at night, or by a frightened and confused husband in the bedroom he's sharing with his wife.

Perhaps the most disconcerting part of this phenomenon boils down to this question: has the government been aware of their presence all along and is covertly working with them towards some secret end? In the audiobook, Runs of Disclosure, what once was fringe is now reality. While listening, you'll meet regular people just like you who have encountered something beyond their ability to explain

You'll also hear from people of great faith and deep religious belief who continue to have these strange and deeply unsettling encounters. Author L.A. Marzulli explores these ongoing incidents to discover the answers to these questions: Who are they? What do they want? And why are they here? Can you handle the truth? Listen to this audiobook if you dare!

Rungs of Disclosure, Following the Trail of Extraterrestrials and the End Times, by L.A. Marzulli. Narrated by Darren Marlar. Hear a free sample on the audiobooks page at WeirdDarkness.com. Adventures in time and space told in future tense. Dimension!

The National Broadcasting Company, in cooperation with Street and Smith, publishers of astounding science fiction, bring you Dimension X.

Twenty years had passed since the last of the giant migration ships had crashed to the surface of Mars, bearing its pitiful handful of survivors of the Earth Wars. Twenty years of scratching at the stubborn Martian soil. Twenty years of trying to devise new solar engines that would use the strange fuel they found on Mars. Twenty years of longing, of turning eyes toward the green Earth as it hung on the horizon like a beckoning light.

And now it was done. And the first new ship, built of shining Martian chromaton, had lifted bravely toward home with three men locked in its metal belly. Would they return to an Earth made barren by cosmic dust? To a blackened radioactive hell? Or would they find intelligence still alive on the scourged planet? What had 20 years of death and radioactivity done to our beloved Earth?

That's it, Captain. We've intersected the core spectra. Williams. Yes, sir? Prepare for deceleration. Forward fishing ready, Captain. Read us off, Evans. We'll enter the gravitational field of the Earth in exactly ten seconds. Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three... Fire two and four. One, two, three, four... What's our momentum, Evans? Negative three. Fire one. Negative four now. Steady as she goes.

How are we? On parabola now. If we can hold, we should breach the heavyside layer somewhere north of what used to be Mimansk. Let's have a look at her. Visor, please. Yes, sir. Mother Earth. Twenty years. We're going home, Evans. We're going home. Home to what, Captain? Home to a burned-out, radioactive planet that is incapable of supporting human life? Evans and I don't agree with that, Williams.

We think the Earth is ready for us again. That she'll give us another chance. I'm sorry, Captain, but I was born and brought up on Mars under the new central government. We younger men disagree with you about migrating back to Earth. For us, Mars is home. Well, we'll see. If there is some form of life on Earth, we'll find out soon enough. Williams, head for New York. There it is, Captain. You can barely see the top of the Atomic Trades building in the twilight. They never finished building it. Dark as a tomb.

Slow to cruising speed. Cruising speed. It begins to look as if Williams is right, Captain. Not a sign of life on four continents. Ah, we'll make a radiation check and then head back for Mars. Do you agree with me, gentlemen? That for all practical purposes, the planet is dead? It's still my captain. Captain. What is it? Am I going out of my mind? Look out that way to the west. Could that be... My heaven, it is. Those are lights. Turn the ship. Heading west, southwest. Full speed.

Full speed. They are lights. Captain, it's a city, a whole blasted city lit up like a Christmas tree. Well, what do you think of your dead planet now, Williams? We shall see, Evans. Remember, the commission wants evidence of life as we know it. Decelerator negative five. We're going to take her down. There's an open area just on the edge of the city. Yes, sir. Hold on, gentlemen. We're about to land. We're about to land.

Landing jacks are down, sir. Open the airlock. Close. All right, gentlemen. Before we go out, security at all times. Williams, you have the blast gun? I have it. If anyone becomes separated, fire a shot and make for the ship. How's the radiation, Evans? Safe enough so far. This seems to be a light area. Very well. Open the lock. ♪♪

Oh, it's unbelievable. We've been walking for hours now and not a soul to be seen. It must be someone. How do you explain the lights? I don't know. Municipal building. Shall we have a look here, sir? Possibly the records might contain some clue. Good idea. Keep your weapons ready. This door is in good working order. Almost as if it had been oiled recently. Long corridor. Lights blazing in every office.

William, stand to watch here in the corridor. Fire a blast if you need us. Yes, sir. Evans, you come with me. We'll start right here with the city clerk's office. Better check radiation again. Not enough to do any damage. Gives me the creeps, doesn't it? Look at this desk. Papers crumpled. Ink stand. Just as if somebody came in and worked here every day. Calendar. June 18th, 1987. Why, that's the day of the evacuation.

The dust cloud had already blanketed New York and was heading west. Dog licenses. Hunting permits. Somehow I have a peculiar feeling that... Good Lord. Pick it up, Evans. Hello? No answer. Hello? I hear something. A scratching sort of noise. Good day, Doctor. What? How are you? I called to ask some advice about a trepanning problem. That should be made first. Hello? Hello? This is absolutely insane. Hello? Thank you, Doctor, and I'll do that.

How is your wife, Alice? And the girl? And your son, John? John. See you tomorrow. Goodbye, Doctor. Hello. Hello. It's gone dead. Who was it? I don't know. A strange voice carried on a conversation about some surgical operation without paying the slightest attention to anything I said. Captain, the lights are out. Good Lord. Captain! Captain! I have a torch. Come on. Williams, what is it? Captain?

You fired a shot. Yes, sir. Just as the lights went out, I'm sure I saw a figure. It looked like an old man in a white robe. It moved across the end of the corridor down that way. Flash your torch down there, Evans. Nothing there. Are you certain, Williams? I'm not certain. The lights, they're on again. We're going to get to the bottom of this. Wait, wait. What? Listen quietly. Someone is coming, walking slowly toward the corridor. We're coming closer. Cover him when he turns the corner. It'll be a pleasure. Don't fire unless I give the word. What?

Jumping Jupiter. Are you... Is it really someone or am I having hallucinations? We are no vision. No. No, you seem to be real. I saw the ship come down. I thought perhaps I was losing my mind. It's been so many years. I'm Captain John Parsons. These are my assistants, Dr. Evans and Mr. Williams. We've returned to Earth from Mars. Then it's happened.

We're not alone anymore. Forgive me, gentlemen. I seem moved. I've waited and hoped for so long. You survived the radiation? We did. There are others? My family were the only ones. I answered the phone a moment ago. Who was it? You heard my voice, Doctor. Your voice? To break the loneliness, I've recorded my voice and rigged up an automatic telephone. Pleasant to hear the phone ring.

I come here to do my work. I take it you're a medical man. My name is Cornelius Hathaway. Hathaway? Hathaway the brain surgeon? You know my name. Who doesn't? I watched you on television at college. I saw you 23 years ago. You performed a difficult surgery for a cerebral tumor. Marvelous. Thank you. I'd almost forgotten. My mind, you see, I'm...

I'm almost 80 now. You look fine, sir. Well, we've had the best of everything. An entire city to choose from. Coal storage, the best equipment. But come, when I saw your ship, I told Alice, my wife, you know, to prepare a feast. This is a great day for me, gentlemen. A great, great day. THE END

This is my wife, gentlemen. Alice, this is Captain Parsons, Dr. Evans, and Mr. Williams. How do you do? Now, if you'll follow me, gentlemen, we'll meet my children.

Lord, what a beautiful woman. She looks no more than 35. These are my daughters, Susan and Marguerite. This is my son, John. How are you, gentlemen? Sit down, gentlemen, sit down. We'll have a feast in honor of this occasion. Susan, Marguerite, get the best silverware and the damask napkins. John, fetch the glasses. Oh, yes, Father. It'll only take... Excuse me, John. Sir? How old are you? 23, sir.

Thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me. What is it, Captain? Something wrong? Nothing except that it's impossible. You see, Dr. Hathaway's son was already in college when I started. That would make him at least 45. That was a wonderful meal, Mrs. Hathaway. Thank you.

Doctor, your wife is an exceptional woman. Thank you, sir. How would you gentlemen like some fresh gingerbread with your coffee? I baked it this morning. Wonderful. Smell that, Evans? Oh, it's like coming home, Mrs. Hathaway. We enjoy having you here. Mrs. Hathaway, may I compliment you on your having preserved your youth and beauty so well? Thank you. We have had no worries here. No competition.

Only the things we need for material comfort. Parsons and I were wondering, Dr. Hathaway, if the radioactivity had any effect in preserving tissue. Your children all look so young, too. It is possible, gentlemen, of course. Radiation does strange things to living tissue. Alice, could we have some champagne? Of course. I'll only be a moment.

An amazing woman. Did you ever see such grace? Such complete relaxation? It doesn't seem quite natural. I beg your pardon, gentlemen? Captain Parsons was just about to ask how you and your family managed to escape, Dr. Hathaway. You were very fortunate. I was working in the Sierra Mountains at the time. I had a lead-lined laboratory where I did X-ray research on my pet project. And what is that, sir? The study of machines as they relate to human function and the corollary of... Cor...

Well, to continue, when the dust cloud covered America, we remained in the laboratory, well supplied with food and water. Later, when the radiation permitted, we made our way east, back to our old home in the hopes of finding other survivors. But by that time, every living creature had been evacuated to Mars. We were stranded. The migration ships

Didn't wait for stragglers. That's true. My father and I were on the last rocket out of New York. I've always loved this old house. But the loneliness of those first years... At least you had your wife and children. Yes. Yes, I had my family. If it were not for them, gentlemen, I assure you, I would long ago have put a bullet in my head. Here we are. Champagne, Captain? Oh, thank you, Mrs. Hathaway. May... May I propose a toast? Oh, let me...

Gentlemen, to Earth. To Earth. Earth. May she never be a stranger to man again. Hathaway, what is it? Nothing really. It's rather sharp pain in the chest. I think you should lie down, Doctor. Yes. Perhaps you're right. Let me help you. No, no, no. John and Susan will help. Of course, Father. Why don't you gentlemen go out on the porch and enjoy the air?

I'll see you all in the morning. Good night, Doctor. Good night. Come, John. Yes, Father. Well, what do you think of old Mother Earth now, Williams?

smell that summer breeze. Look at that view of the city lighted up against the sky. It has a certain quality. Well, score one point for the back-to-earth proponents. I didn't say that. You're beginning to feel it, though, Williams. I can tell. If you don't mind, gentlemen, I'm quite tired. I think I'll turn in. Excuse me. Well, Captain? Well, what? What do you make of all this?

I don't know what you mean. There's Hathaway and his family. There's something strange and unnatural going on here. I can sense it. I think you're reading things into it, Evans. Oh, perhaps. Well, I'll turn in too. Are you coming? In a moment. I want to smoke a cigarette. Beautiful view. What? Is it not? I didn't hear you come out. How is he? Resting. I've never seen him this bad. Yes, he's an old man.

I'm sorry, but the difference in your ages is so apparent. You must have been married very young. My husband is a very great man, Captain. It's too bad there was no one to appreciate him. Once, he wired the whole city with sound speakers, and when he pressed a button, the whole town lit up and made noises, as if 10,000 people were living in it. He must have been very lonesome for people.

Although with a woman such as you, I don't understand. Perhaps one day you will understand. Good night, Captain. Good night, Mrs. Hathaway. Captain. Captain Parsons. Who is there? It's Dr. Evans. What time is it? Two a.m. What's wrong? I couldn't sleep. A few minutes ago, I heard someone slip out the front door.

The moonlight I saw it was the old man. He was headed toward our ship. What are you suggesting, Evans? Nothing, except that it's fairly unnatural for an old man with a bad heart to go wandering off at two in the morning. Very well. We'll follow him. ♪♪

See him yet? No. Look. Ahead there on the hillside. Isn't that Hathaway kneeling in the moonlight? Yes, I think so. Can we get closer? Let's head for that clump of bushes. This is far enough. What do you suppose he's doing there? What are those things on the ground? Good Lord. Those are grave markers. Four of them. You're right. Seems to be preying over them. Listen. Do you forgive me for what I've done? I had to do it.

I was so terribly lonely. You do forgive me, don't you? Yes, I feel you do. I'm glad. I think perhaps I can rest now. I think I... He's having another attack. Come on. Hathaway! Dr. Hathaway! Raise his head, Evans. His lips are moving. What is it, Doctor? Lean closer. I'm sorry I had to spoil all of this.

I've expected it for some time. We'll fix you up. No, no, this is the end for me. It really doesn't matter, except for them. What about them, Hathaway? You suspected, didn't you? Yes, I suspected, but I couldn't believe it until now. Do they know? No, no, they wouldn't understand. I wouldn't want them to know ever. The Earth, the Earth... Don't try to talk. The Earth is...

So fair. Doctor. He's dead, Captain. He knew it was the end this time. Yes, he knew. What was it he meant about your suspect? Light a match, Evans. Look on those four grave markers and tell me what you see. Good Lord. Well? Alice Hathaway, Marguerite Hathaway, Susan Hathaway, John Hathaway... died July 1987. But that's 20 years ago. If these markers are correct...

Then who are those others? Can't you guess, Evans? Can't you guess? Mrs. Hathaway, are you awake? Yes, Captain. May I come in? Yes. It's about my husband, isn't it? You knew. I saw him go out tonight. He felt it was near the end.

He died less than an hour ago. I'm sorry. Thank you. How do you feel? He told us it would happen one day and that he didn't want us to cry. He didn't teach us how, you know. He said it was the worst thing that could happen to know how to be lonely and unhappy. What will happen to us now that he's gone? I don't know. Will you stay with us? I would like to, but I cannot. You know about us. Yes, I know.

I didn't think that you knew yourself. The children don't. I've been aware for a long while. No one would have guessed. You're so perfect. Oh, he would have liked to hear you say that. He was so very proud of us. After a while, he came to love us. And at the end, he took us as his real wife and children. He even forgot sometimes that he had made us.

You gave him a great deal of comfort. Yes. Over the years, we sat and talked. He loved so much to talk. I was first, you know. Then he became lonesome for the children. And so he made them. He told me about the things he did, about his laboratory. Surely the children must suspect. Oh, no. You see, there were no other beings with which to compare themselves.

He must have been a great, great genius. Each morning he took a recording of his voice into town and put it on the automatic telephone. Each night it would call us. I think, what with the phone ringing and the sound of voices and the lights on, he was happy. There was only one thing, one flaw. And that? He couldn't make us grow old. And so he had to watch himself become an old, old man while we stayed young.

It was a great blow to him. And so we commend the body of this man, Cornelius Hathaway, to his maker. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, returneth. Amen. Come, John. Yes, mother. Susan. Mark. Evans. Williams. Stay here a moment, please.

What is it? Let them go back to the house. I want to speak to you. I know what you're going to tell us, Captain. I saw the names on the grave markers. Well? It's a mockery. A blasphemy of everything we believe in. For a man to do something so evil. Can't you imagine what he faced? Can't you imagine what it must have been like to have watched his wife and children die slowly of radiation burns? To know that he was the last man on the face of the earth? Alone? Eternally and unalterably alone? No.

Good Lord, man, what would you have done if you'd had his medical and technical genius? That's incredible. Yes, it is. But with an entire American city on which to draw for supplies and equipment, a brilliant man might accomplish anything, even that. What are you suggesting, Captain? That we take them back? We haven't enough space in the ship for that. Every ounce counts. Still, to leave them here like that, alone... I think I have an answer.

Cold-blooded as it may seem. Go on. I suggest that we turn them off. Do you think that I could do that? No, but I could. After all, they aren't human. They're worse than robots. They're ghoulish. Have you talked to her? Has she smiled at you with that quiet, beautiful smile? Captain, we can't take them with us. And it would be less than human to leave them here without Hathaway. Could you do it, Evans?

Give me the blast gun, Williams. We'll wait on the ship. Take off in half an hour. Half an hour. 625. He should be back soon. Yes. He's doing the only humane thing, Captain. They are less than human. Are they? Well, it's done now and no one will ever...

That's the airlock. He's back. Well? Here's your gun. Did you do it? When I entered the house, she looked at me with those fine, intelligent eyes. I couldn't do it. It would be murder. Cold-blooded murder. I prayed you wouldn't be able to do it. There will never be anything as fine as they are. Built to last 200, 300, perhaps 1,000 years. Well...

Get the course in the integrator, Williams. We'll take off in 20 minutes. I shall be back by then. You're going out, sir? I'm going to say goodbye. You've come back. Only to say goodbye. It was nice of you. I wanted you to know that I am coming back someday. When will you come? I don't know. It will take many years to prepare fuel for another trip. Six, seven, perhaps ten years.

I will watch the sky at night, just as he watched it. I'm afraid I must go now. I understand. Strange. I have a new feeling. One which he did not teach us. A feeling of longing, of sadness. That one is not taught. It comes of being alive. Yes, I am alive. Even though he created me, I'm a person now. Goodbye, Gretel.

Alice Hathaway. Goodbye, John Parson. You have just heard another adventure into the unknown world of the future. The world of... Dimension X. When the time comes for man to explore the universe...

to deal with the strange inhabitants of other worlds, there will be much to remember. Perhaps the most important lesson of all will seem too fundamental to be included in the training manuals. Listen at this time next week as Dimension X brings you a story from the pages of the August Astounding Science Fiction, a story called Courtesy.

Dimension X is presented each week by the National Broadcasting Company in cooperation with Screet and Smith, publishers of the magazine Astounding Science Fiction. Today, Dimension X has presented Dwellers in Silence, written for radio by George Lefferts from the story by Ray Bradbury.

Featured in the cast were Peter Capel as Captain Parsons, Bill Griffiths as Dr. Hathaway, and Gertrude Warner as Alice. Your host was Norman Rose, music by Albert Berman. Dimension X is produced by William Welch and directed by Fred Way. Dragnet, the story of your police force, is next on NBC. The Strange Dr. Weird.

Good evening. Come in, won't you? You seem a bit nervous. Perhaps a story would take your mind off whatever's worrying you. I have one I'm sure you'll like. It takes place on a tiny island in the mystery-haunted South Pacific, and I call it White Pearls of Freedom. White Pearls of Freedom

And now for my story, White Pearls of Terror. In the small harbor of the tiny island of Barota, a barren, desolate bit of coral lost in the South Pacific, a dilapidated pearling boat rides at anchor in a trading shack of corrugated iron on the shore. Two burly-bearded white men watch a half-breed merchant gather together supplies, listening as they wait to the monotonous beating of a native drum in the darkness outside.

Repeat, shake, wong, what's that infernal racket anyway? I had father sacrifice his chicken to turn away anger out of the storm guard, Captain Blake. Well, tell him to stop it. It's getting on my nerves. Take it easy, Blake. We'll be gone in a few minutes. The glass is falling fast and there is a storm coming up. We're in the typhoon season now, you know. And I'll be plenty glad to see the last of this rotten speck of coral, believe me.

Even though we're leaving with empty pockets, we can't go too soon. Wong, sorry you'll find no purse. Another year better, maybe. Here are supplies. Eleven dollars, please. All right, pay him, Phelps. In a moment. Wong, why do you and your father live all alone here on Barota?

Don't you ever find it lonely? Wong, an honored father never lonely, Mr. Fox. You know, Wong, in Tahiti, I met a native who knew you. He told me your mother was Chinese and your father used to be a Tahiti witch doctor. That is true. You pay now, please. He told me something else, too.

He said the two of you live here because you know a secret pearling bed down the reef. And that even in that stinking back room of yours, you have a leather bag full of the finest white pearls that ever came out of the South Seas. Is that true? I think it is. Grab him, Blake. No, no, no, no. It's not true. And so we're not leaving Barota with empty hands. Before we leave Wong, you're going to tell us where you keep those pretty white pearls. Oh.

Oh, my God.

Phelps, I'm going out there and put a bullet through that infernal witch doctor father of Wong's. That drum is driving me crazy. Oh, stop it, Blake. We've got to finish with Wong and get away. There's a storm coming up and we've got to be well offshore when it hits. All right, then. Make him talk. A little more pressure on this cord around his forehead. Oh, oh. Yeah, well, Wong. Wong, come. Wong, go. It's more like it. Where are they? The corner behind you. A board is loose. Oh.

Take a look, Black. Right, George. There. There's a loose board here, all right. And a little leather pouch under it. I've got it. Bring it here. Let's take a look. Yeah. Hold out your hand. I'll pour them out. Oh, damn it. Look. Six white pearls as big as Marv. Only six. There should be more. Where are the rest of them? No more pieces. Take them.

Wait a minute, I think he's telling the truth. It helps. We've got to get outside the reefs in a hurry. All right. I thought there'd be more. But these six will do nicely. They should bring a couple of thousand apiece. In two months we'll be in San Francisco living like kings. No, too late. What do you mean? Listen. The drum. It's getting louder. Listen to it. All right, stop.

And God of the storm has answered. Prayer of Honored Father for vengeance accepted. What are you joking about? Honored Father knows you taught your wrongs. In the darkness he makes prayer to bring punishment. Now he will make sacrifice. Listen. What was that? Honored Father makes great a sacrifice to his God. He gives his own life. Now you have pearls.

But they bring you only evil. They bring you death. The creeping death that walks with you in life. When you hear the drum, think of the father of one and the death he sent you. Shut him up, will you? Make him stop. Shut him up. That's it. Now they're both dead. Come on, we've got to get to the boat. Hey, Shops. Listen to that wind. It's too late. We can't get away. We can't get away. Our story will continue in a moment.

But first, is there a doctor in the house? Young man, I am a doctor. So you are, Doctor Weird, after a fashion. But can you handle this case? Like you are all cases. Permanently. Well, here are the facts. The patient is seen frequently in business offices, on street corners, everywhere. His clothes are always neat, impeccably stylish. Yet something about him just isn't right. Freak diagnosis shows he's in perfect shape. Except for his hat.

Gentlemen, this may be your case. Too often a poorly made shapeless hat can spoil your whole appearance. Don't take chances. Choose a smart, up-to-the-minute Adam. They're correctly shaped and styled and made of the finest all-fur felt. No wonder men who are tops in the business, sport, and entertainment world wear an Adam. For Adam is tops in hats.

So stop in at any Adam's store or authorized dealer. There are thousands from coast to coast. And set yourself up in a nice new Adam hat. Now, Dr. Weird.

And now to continue my story, White Pearls of Terror. For two days, a typhoon raged over the tiny island of Barota, while Phelps and Blake cowered inside the trading shack that had belonged to the dead half-breed merchant Wong. The wind hurled their boat on the reef and sank it, blew down most of the palm trees on the island, carried away the storehouse where Wong's provisions had been kept.

When at last the wind died and the sun shone again, Blake and Phelps crawled out of the shack and stared dazedly at a scene of utter desolation. Phelps, look. The boat's gone. We're stranded here. I tell you, we're stranded here. Oh, stow it, Blake. There'll be a trading vessel along soon. Yeah, but suppose there isn't. We'll die here. The grove's open, washed away. The palm trees are down. We'll starve to death.

It's the curse. The curse Wong's father put on us. We shouldn't have taken the pearls. We shouldn't have taken... I said stow it! Suppose we have to stay here a few months. We got the shack for shelter and we can live on shellfish.

We've still got the pearls. When we do get away, we'll live like kings. We'll never get away. We're going to die here. All during the storm, I heard that drum beating. The witch doctor's drum telling us we're going to die here. Get a grip on yourself, will you? Wong's dead. And the old witch doctor's dead, too. Their bodies are gone. The sharks have finished them by now. When we were rescued, we only had to say they were killed in the storm. And we'll be in the clear. We'll be all right. Now, now the drum. I heard it beating. We'll never get away. We're going to die here.

We're going to die. This will shut you up. I say, we're going to be all right. The days became weeks and the weeks became months. Blake and Phelps lived on shellfish and coconut and drank rainwater. Day after day, they scanned the horizon, a sign of a rescue ship.

And day after day, Blake's despair mounted. Blake, Blake, come on, get up. You don't turn to go down to the beach and dig clams and keep an eye out for a ship. No, it's no use. We're never going to be rescued. We may be rescued today. Come on now, turn up. I tell you, we're going to stay here forever. We're going to die here. We're still alive, ain't we? Alive. Nothing to eat but clams and crabs and coconuts.

I'd rather be dead. Do you hear me? I'd rather be dead. I tell you we're going to be rescued. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow. Listen, did you hear that? No, I didn't hear anything. There it goes again. Don't you understand? It's a ship. We're as good as rescued right now. I didn't hear anything except the drum. The old witch doctor's drum beating again just like it did that night. Blake, get a hold of yourself.

Come on. I'll prove that with a ship we heard. Here, come on down to the shore. The drum. I can hear the drum. Look. Look, Blake. A British gunboat off the reefs and a ship's boat heading for the shore. We're saved. No, it's too late. The drum. He said when we heard the drum to remember his vengeance, the creeping death. Blake, get a hold of yourself, will you?

They see us. They call us. Oh, we're saved. And we got the pearls. In a month, we'll be in San Francisco living like kings. No. No, it's too late. The drum is beating. It's bewitching the pearls. We haven't got any pearls anymore. They've stuck to your face now. Little round pearls. Two of them. Three of them. They're stuck to your face. No, I tell you, there's no drums beating. It's just your mind. It doesn't...

There. Now you hear it too, don't you? No. But on your face. Two little white spots. Silvery white spots. Yes. They're the pearls that have been bewitched. The drum. You listen to it. Blank. Oh, silvery spots. The drum. It won't stop. Blank. We've

We've been on this island almost a year. Living in that stinking little shack where Wong and his father lived. Eating out of their dishes. Sleeping in their blankets. It's louder and louder. Now I know why Wong and his father lived here all alone. They didn't want anyone to know. That's what the marks on our face mean. That's creeping dead. The drum. It says that we're never going to get away. That we're going to die here. That's a rod. We

We are going to die here someday. Because now nobody's ever going to take us off the island. Wong and his father were lepers. And now we're lepers, too. Since we've been on this island, we've both become lepers. Well, how do you feel now? Perhaps what you really need to steady your nerves is a nice trip.

A voyage to the South Sea. You could stop at Barota and meet Phelps and Blake. Yes, they're still living there, quite alone. They'd welcome a little company and... Oh, you're going? We'll drop in again soon. I'm always home. Just look for the house on the other side of the cemetery. The house of Dr. Weir. Dr. Weir

Now, there's a new way to share Weird Darkness with the weirdos in your life. It's a skill on your Amazon Echo device. Just say, play Weird Darkness, and you'll immediately start hearing the newest episode. With your Amazon Echo or smart device, you can let me keep you company all day and all night. And it's easy to tell your friends how to tune in, too. Just tell your Amazon device, play Weird Darkness, to start listening. ♪♪

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The old prison sprawls in the mist of a gray afternoon.

Along one of the interminable corridors, two men are walking. Men from different worlds. A warder and a prisoner. The prisoner is a young man with his life before him. Life behind bars. And yet, this man is in the grip of something stronger even than the soulless jail.

He is terrified of something that lurks in wait for him out there on the moors. Right here, Bolton. Come in. Bolton, sir. Number 773842. Wait outside, Walter. Yes, sir. Here you go, Bolton. You wish to see me, Bolton? Yes, sir.

I request a change of occupation, sir. But you must see the chief order. I'm the governor of this prison and our functions are different. Warder Grayson refused me a change of job, Mr. Hall. And you wish me to override his orders? Bolton, you must remember that you're a prisoner and that you're imprisoned for a most heinous crime. I'm innocent, sir. It was a mistake. Yes, yes, yes, Bolton. Bolton, you were found guilty by a jury and sentenced by a judge for the crime of murder. I merely administer the law. But I might point out that until very recently you would have hanged for this crime. Sir, please listen to me.

Very well. This sounds crazy. Maybe it is. Please put it down to mental illness or anything you like, but I'm haunted, sir. Haunted? Bolton, I've now heard every excuse for a man wishing to change his occupation. Where are you working? On an outside working party, sir. I'm working outside the prison walls, digging in the peat bog, sir. It's only when I'm working that I see it. The ghost, eh? Describe it. It's the figure of a woman in a long dress, sir. And do the other prisoners see it?

I don't think anybody but me sees the ghost, sir. Oh, somebody else would have come to you. I have your fire here, Bolton. You were sent to imprisonment for life by Mr. Justice Wellworth for the murder of Norma Jane Harrison. Is it this unfortunate young woman's ghost you see? No, sir. Norma was a blonde with a ponytail. Small girl. This is a tall person with chestnut hair. She stands in the peat bog and beckons to me.

Give me another job. I can't stand it anymore. Please. Your occupation is the most important one. With the other prisoners in the party, you're engaged in digging the foundations for a new portion of this prison. You are, in fact, working on the section to be occupied by the new ward. You're young and strong. The work must prove beneficial. Request dismissed. I shall ring for the warder to return you to your cells. Hop! Ah, in you go, Baldwin. Hello, kid. Where you been? I've been to see the governor, then.

I wonder why you went to see him now. Trying to get my job changed, Len, that's all. You know, kid, I like you. I wouldn't want nothing to happen to you. What could happen to me? Well, one of them needles we use for sewing mail bags might slip. Or some naughty convict might have kept a razor blade hid away somewhere. He might go mad, see? Then why threaten me? I am in no harm. No. Listen, son, this is a jail.

It's the man who strikes first that wins here, not the scholar like you. Please, Len, I swear I've never hurt you. You're my cellmate. Look, son, I was one of the big time gangsters outside. That's no lie. I know, Len, it was in all the papers. Look at my record. Robbery with violence, attempted murder, grievous bodily harm, and the rest. I got powers on every landing. Len, I'm not working against you. Then why go to the governor? You grass in on me.

Breathing Len's little secrets in all his ears, eh? No, I swear it. I'm not Len. I wondered why they put you in here with me. A dirty soul pigeon, if what you are. No, no, Len. Then tell me why you went to see all. Spit it out and be honest for once. I'll tell you the truth. But Len, you promised not to tell the others. Tell me the truth, and I'll know if you lie to me. I'm haunted. Honestly, I'm not lying. Well, why didn't you tell me? Mate, there's thousands of blokes get haunted in jail.

You're going a little bit jail crazy, that's all. When a man like me says he can stand ten years penal servitude, that means he's tough. He can come out, spit the world in the face and go on. I see this ghost when I'm working. Honestly, a woman with chestnut hair. You'll serve ten years at most. This is my eighth conviction. I've got to do fifteen years. It's that or escape. I'll be beside you on the job tomorrow. Don't you worry about a thing, kid. Just take it easy.

And live to be an old man. Come on, you men, dig. Come on, you men. I'd like to have you to myself for a minute, you lousy screw. Who cares? Look, Sam, this is healthy luck, dig in, Pete. I can get in the library if I like. Live like a lord. Know why I work here? I've always wondered. First, it keeps me fit. Second, half me day I'm in the open air. Now, what's wrong? Oh.

It's her. Look. All right. Stop talking, Bolton. Back to it. Chest on her. I'm going mad, Len. No! No! No, no. Not me, please. Take it easy. There's nothing here. It's as real as you all meet. It's her, I tell you. Pointing. Pointing. What if Tim sees that man? No. Look away. I see her. Honestly, I see her. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. No!

Kid, let me tell you something. You're lucky to be back in the cell. They might have clapped a straitjacket on you. I was scared of that. Thanks for everything. Why did she pick me? Why me? You didn't see her. Yeah. Is it this dame you killed? I didn't. I didn't kill anybody. If I was to take a poll, every man in this jail would be innocent. Wouldn't be a guilty man in sight. You won't believe it, but I'm innocent.

Tell me about this murder, son. I hardly knew her. I met her a few times. She was very pretty, very small, nice figure. What was her name? Norma. Norma Harrison. Well, she must have got too deep in with one of the gangs. She was that sort. Not much more than a teenager. Pretty. An eye for quick money. The coppers must have had a case against you, son. Some of her stuff was in my room. A handbag, umbrella, the knife that killed her. My fingerprints on all of it. You've got no hope. You're in for life.

So am I. Well, I've decided to do something about it. What can you do? What can any of us do? Escape. No, anything but escape, Len. You'll lose all good conduct marks and have a sentence, too, on top of it for escaping. Listen, kid... Sorry, Len, I'd like to be free, but I'm not trying anything. I've told you too much, kid. I can't trust you now. Before I leave, I've got to take care of you. All my friends will. Please, Len, please. Too bad, Bolton. You come my way or I'll make dead sure you meet with an accident. What?

Now, what do you say? What can I say? That's a good boy. I thought you'd see reason. Listen, kid. Tonight's the night. Don't make no mistakes, hey? The guard will be along any minute. I'll deal with him. Then we head for the inner walls. Now, the minute we... Hear that? Hear that?

That's water, Logan. Now, quiet. I've got me bed stripped. The minute he sees that, through the Judas hole in the... So what? I've got something for you, mate. He's unconscious. Come on. Just a minute. Let's get his gun. You said nobody would be hurt. I need the gun. Come on, son. Keep in the shadows and move. It's open, then. Right. Now, keep to the shadows as much as you can. Run for the peephole. Where we usually work them from there to the road. You get it? All right. All right. Open the door. Now, you got the idea? Yeah.

They're sure to see us. But by then, we'll be near the peat bog. You've got to run. You've got to run for your life. Are you all right? Yes, except that peat bog. Never mind that now. Run! Run! Run! I can't. I can't. She's... She...

Oh, you poor, poor boy. You've been wounded. I'm... I'm dying. No, no. You'll be all right. You must try and stand. Oh, please. I must get you back to the cottage. They shot me. Save your energy. Now... Now walk. Why are you helping me? Can't you see I'm in convict's clothes? They say I'm a murderer. Are you? No. Oh.

Just a few more yards. There was a lot of blood, but you're going to be all right. Two hours ago, I thought my end had come, but now... now... Did I tell you? Did I tell you why I'm in convict's clothes? You're in convict's clothes because you've been punished for a crime you did not commit. Just as I, too, was wrongly accused. Why do you live here on the edge of the moors all alone? Because I have to. But...

I don't understand. Understanding will come to you in time. Then you will know that the things they have said about me are also untrue. But you don't know me. How can you believe in my innocence? I haven't told you about the... You are innocent. And in that lies my future. My hope. You're the woman I've... By the peat bogs. Where we were digging. What are you? Who are you? And you. A creature of flesh and blood have gazed upon me without fear. I have lived alone because of my sorrows.

And now you have released me. Anna. Thank you. Goodbye. I must go. Get three fives. Get the taste. Three fives by State Express. Get the taste of international success. The taste that's uniquely three fives.

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Well, well, well. Young Bolton certainly has got himself bogged down, so to speak. Something very creaking doorish seems to be happening. Certainly it has had a disturbing effect on our would-be escaped convict. I'm going to come back. He's coming around, sir. Come on.

Stole the lilies. Bolton, can you hear me? I'm, uh, come back. I don't think we can do anything with him yet. How long did you say he was lying in the peat bog before he was picked up? Oh, not long, sir. Found him in a matter of minutes. I gave strict instructions that water... It wasn't the water who shot him. It was the prisoner he escaped with, Leonard Grover. Poor Bolton. I'd give anything for this not to have happened. Oh, what a terrible mistake we made. Oh, no.

Why do you say terrible mistake, sir? Perhaps I should have told you. However, even though you are Chief Warder, I was asked by Scott and Yard to keep the matter secret. Secret, sir? Inspector Fairweather of the murder squad received information that suggested that they'd probably convicted the wrong man. Wrong man, Governor? Seems so. Although he was in charge of the investigation, Fairweather asked me as Governor to see that Bolton and Grover were placed in the same cell. We had the cell bugged. We were hoping that Grover might react when confronted with the man he framed.

Oh, he reacted all right, but not the way he anticipated. Forced Bolton to escape with him in order to kill him. Come back, Anna. I was frightened of you at first, but not now. If this man dies, we're responsible for his death. I should never have put him in the same cell.

Governor Hall speaking. Jackford Police Station. Sergeant Forrest speaking. All right, Sergeant. Governor Hall, sir. We've got your man. You have? Good. Where? How? He was found asleep in an air loft. I'm afraid he wounded Farrow Mugridge. Luckily, Mr. Mugridge had a couple of his firemen with him. Oh, well done. Keep him under lock and key. I've just received information from Scotland Yard that the case against him is complete. Bolton is to receive a free pardon, and Grover is to be charged with the murder of Norma Harrison...

I'll send one of my men over right away. Very good, sir. Yes? Dr. Sutherland sends his compliments, sir. You can see the patient now, if you'd like to. Yes, I would. Very much indeed. Have you seen him? What did he like? Well, sir, once I gave him the glad news that he was going to be set free, he was a changed man. Poor chap. Suffering as he did. Crime he didn't commit. No wonder he was delirious. Oh, well. I'll go and see him right away.

Well, that's the sorry boat. We'll try and make you as comfortable as possible until the doctor signs your release certificate. Of course you can walk around and do anything you wish. Grover? Grover killed Norma? Unbelievable. But why? Because of you. When he found out that you and she were having an affair, he decided to kill her and then left a series of so-called clues to incriminate you. The fact that you'd threatened her publicly didn't help. I must get back to the cottage.

The cottage, Mr. Bolton? Yes, where the warders found me. Well, there's some mistake. You were recaptured within half a mile of the prison. You were shot down in the peat bog where you'd been working. But the cottage... Anna, she helped me. Cottage? But there isn't a cottage for at least ten miles. I'm afraid you were rather delirious. But I ran from the peat bog. I saw a light in the cottage window. And she... Anna... She came and helped me. Oh, remember how I came to you, Governor, and asked for a change of job...

I was so afraid of the apparition. I thought it was an apparition. And all the time, it was Anna. Anna whom I've known for but a few minutes. And yet I feel she's been part of my life. It's your imagination, old chap. You were overwrought. Oh, who wouldn't be? Sentenced to life for a murder you didn't commit. I tell you, I spoke to her. She took me into her cottage. Don't you understand? Of course I understand. That swine shot you in the back. You were delirious.

Now, you get some rest, old chap. Otherwise, I'll have Dr. Simmons on my tail. So they are releasing you, as you have released me. Yours was a matter of months. My spirit has been captive for two centuries. Anna. Anna. I said goodbye before, but I had to come back. But this time, it's goodbye until eternity. Anna.

Anna! Anna! Anna! What's the matter? Look at you. You look as though you've seen a ghost. Hey, you must get out of bed. I'm not a prisoner now. The governor said I could do what I liked. I'm going over to the peephole. That's where I first saw her. Perhaps... Never mind. Get my clothes. I'll have to... Oh, here comes the governor. Sir, this patient says he wants to get dressed. He wants to go out to the prison hospital. He can do whatever he wishes to do, orderly. Mr. Bolton is a free man. Where do you want to go to? I'm going out on the moor. Is that wise? Yes.

You're still very weak, you know. You yourself said that... Yes, yes, all right, Mr. Bolton. But do you mind if I and two waters accompany you? Just for your own safety. I have no objections. What's the matter with you, water? I don't know, sir. It's a warm night, and yet I feel a chill come over me, sunlight. Look at this, sir. It's a bit strange. Show me. What's strange? This earth. The working party was over there. It looks as though the earth has been turned over or something.

Well, the earth is quite fresh. For the second time, Governor, you're going to think I'm mad. I don't know why or how, but I need this spot to be dug. Deep, deep down. Oh, come now. You said you would do anything to compensate me for what has happened. I want a working party to dig here by this spot. All right. Water. Get hold of a working party. Oh, look, Bolton, we've been digging now for three hours. Well, Arthur, it's a woman. Show me.

Anna! Hold him. Let me go. Let me go. Anna, my Anna. Pretty. So well preserved. She's alive. I know she is. I told you I saw her walking over the feet, Paul. She's... I don't care whether she's a ghost. Please, Governor Hall, bear with me in this. Look, Bolton. If we're to retain our sanity, there's an explanation for all this. Although, how anybody could be in such a perfect state...

Remove the rest of the pieces. Now, now, please try and control yourself. Control yourself. I'll have the body removed to the prison mortuary. The mortuary? She's not dead. To the hospital. Absolutely incredible. Imperfect preservation. What do you mean? The body. It's the body of a woman named Anna Grant. Anna? Let me tell you how I found her name.

The parish registers are kept at Chagford. I discovered that this woman, Anna Grant, was buried alive. Buried alive? Two hundred years ago. She was branded as a witch and buried in unhallowed ground. It's all there, recorded in the register. She was buried in the year 1748. Strange you should be found above the body of this Anna Grant. Why, what's the matter? I don't know. You, with your practical mind...

Why was the body so well preserved? Tell me that. Oh, the answer to that is simple. Dr. Simmons applied that. It's the chemicals in the peat. Have you no imagination? Please, take me to the body. All right. Are you sure that would be a good thing to do? There. Where are you two after? Mr. Bolton wants to look at the body. Don't you think you're better off staying with your dream?

You saw her for a few fleeting seconds. Now she's lying on a cold marble slab. Why upset yourself? For the same instinctive urge that took us to the place where Anna was buried. I must see her and talk to her. Oh, talk to her really. Anna. Yes, Anna. Yes, I can hear you. Now, now, really. Yes, but it won't be a sacrifice. But that's where I want to be. Wherever you are. Gladly. Look at her.

She's... She's crumbling into dust. He's fainted. He's fainted. Just a moment. No, Gaffer. He hasn't fainted. He's... He's dead. What a terrible thing to have happened to him. After all he's been through. Do we know what has happened to him now? It's terrible. Do we really know anything? No.

Well, well, well. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. And show me the ghost that a convict can trust. Or to paraphrase the words of another old song, can a body meet a body coming through the moon? Get three fives.

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Roy? Roy?

Time to get up. Oh, come on, Roy. Roy. All right. Temper, temper. You know what you said last night? If I don't get out of bed at once, you'll have my permission to pull the covers off. You do and I'll kill you. Oh, come on, love. You know... Oh, brave man. Where are you? Hey, Delon Clucks. Where are you? Come on, you... Roy, there's no time...

Roy? What's up? Roy? There's something wrong with my eyes. Roy? Roy? Eh? I can't... Can't what? Where are you? Can't see you. Time. The silent herald of life and death. Success or failure. The unseen force that measures man's destiny, reaching its most fateful moment as it slowly strikes.

The 11th Hour. Roy. What's the matter with you this morning? What's the matter with your eyes? I don't know. Nothing. I can see.

Everything else? Well, then. You said just now... Roy, what are you playing at? What the devil's the matter with you, Sally? One of your dreams or something? Roy, where are you? On a number 27 bus bound back near Wick. Where do you think I am? Come on, woman, make some tea. I'll have to freeze you solid. I don't care how much it costs. We've got to have central heating. Can't stand another winter like this. I'm dreaming...

It's one of those dreams again. In a minute, June Craig will come into the room and tell me she's having an affair with him. And he'll come and beat me up and say he's going away with her. And then I'll wake up and everything will be all right. Just dreams. I'm insecure. That's all it is. My husband loves me, but I'm insecure. Bed, sleep, and when I wake up, everything will be all right again. Sally. Sally.

Sally, what's happened? What's going on? Sally, look at me. I can't see you. I'm here, standing here in front of you. Look, I've just looked in the mirror. The mirror? Usual thing. See how I look. Turn out, you know. Get ready for shaving. I do it every morning. Yes, Roy? I couldn't see anything. Couldn't... You couldn't see anything? Sally, what happened? Roy, the...

I... Can you see me? No. I'm standing right in front of you. I can see you. Can't see you? That's what I was afraid of. I can't see me either. I mean, look, I'm looking at myself now. My hands, I can't see my hands. I can't see my feet. Sally, what's happened? I can hear your voice.

We'd better ring the doctor. Doctor? I feel fine. But you've gone. I'm not gone. I haven't gone. I'm still here. Look. No, ring the doctor. I'll ring the doctor. I might go mad or something. What? I saw the cupboard door open. I've just opened the cupboard door. It looked as if it was opening on its own. What? Your shirt. What about it? It's floating about in mid-air.

Would you ring Dr. Matthews, please, dear? Tell him... Don't tell him anything. I'm going back to bed. Tell him... Ask him to come here.

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Ha ha!

Splish, splash, the water hogs splash on and on. Using up the water, it's too late when it's gone. If you want to help, then this is what to do. Make sure the water hog is never, never you. Just make sure the water hog is never, ever you.

In here, please, Doctor. You mustn't be... What I mean is... Morning, Doctor. You see? That's him. That's Roy. You can see the lump where he's in the bed, but he's got nothing on, you see. And, Doctor...

They want me for television. The Invisible Man. I'll feast, because I'm not really here. There. It's not funny. Stop it. You're really right, it's not...

What's the matter, Doctor? You look as if you've seen a ghost. Mr. Hawsey, when... This morning. I was all right last night. What, Marcelli? Yes, I think so. Think so? You told me I was getting fat. She told me I was getting fat, Doctor, so obviously I could be seen last night. What are you doing? It's all right, Mr. Hawsey. I'm just satisfying myself. Get out. Your hands are cold. Come on.

It's not funny. Why are you both laughing? Who's laughing? Well, you wouldn't laugh if your wife suddenly went invisible, Doctor. On the contrary, I'd be delighted. Tongue out, Mr. Horserad? Oh, no, there's no point, is there? Would you mind putting pyjamas on? You say with clothes on you can be seen and everything? Yes, but it's a bit unnerving. Pyjamas sitting up in bed with nothing in them. You see? Yes, yes. Like pyjamas.

Like the washing line on frosty mornings. All the washing all stiff. What's happened to him, Dr. Matthews? I've got to help him. I mean to try, Mrs. Hawsey. I mean to try. I see absolutely no point in taking my temperature, Doctor. I've somehow or other disappeared. I haven't got... Just hold on to that for a minute, Mr. Hawsey.

Mrs. Hossie, may I have a word or two with you, please? Yes. We won't be a minute, Roy. What are you going to talk about that I can't hear? Roy, put that thermometer back in your mouth. Dr. Matthews is trying to help you. Doctor, what is it? What's happened to my husband? How can... My dear lady, it's all under control. Under control?

Your husband is invisible. I know that, but... I shall have an apology to make to both of you later. But for now, for the present, allow me to explain. Apology? Apology?

On Earth? Firstly, your husband took his sleeping tablet last night, did he? Sleeping tablet? Well, I... I mean, I didn't know that he took... Yes, yes, he sleeps badly, apparently. He came to me two days ago, weeks tired. It's as if he's not sleeping at all. There are a dozen beverages on the market worth recommending, but with a man like your husband... What's any of this to do with Roy being invisible? I'm coming to that. What's happened to Roy? What... I've made him invisible. You?

Made him invisible. Successful, isn't it? You can't see a thing. Not even his... Not a single inch of him. You? The sleeping pill wasn't a sleeping pill. It was a little something I'd been experimenting on for some time. What are you, some kind of witch doctor? Witch? Oh, good heavens, no. Mrs. Horsey, if you only knew. A doctor's life is horrible. But I don't understand what it is this has got to do with my husband. I demand a second opinion. Shh, shh, shh.

Quiet, dear lady. Your husband is invisible. My pill, prescription, works. For the first time in the history of the world, a mortal man has rendered another human being invisible to the naked human eye. Dr. Matthews, what are you saying?

You stand there and admit that you use my husband as... As... Give me a big guess. Why, you... Dear lady, I can make him visible again at will. He will become visible again. He, in fact, even at this moment... Oh, yes. Don't do that, Mr. Horsey. Roy...

Where are you? My temperature's 98 point something or other. What's going on? What are you two doing out here? Mr. Hossie, don't say another word. Let us return to the bedroom. There's something I must discuss with you.

You're crazy. Not at all. Be prepared, Mrs. Horsey. As I've worked it out, in another three minutes precisely, your husband will be back with us in the flesh. Well, I really well hope you're right. Wait a minute, though.

You have the blasted gall to stand there and tell me you did this on purpose. You made me invisible. Think of it, my friend. You are invisible. Soon you'll become visible once more. At will, I can render you invisible. What a plan. What an idea. You are a bank manager. I'm a chief terror, actually, but go on. You know, suddenly you're beginning to interest me. How many minutes did you say? Now, two. Two?

Imagine, Mr. Halsey, the greatest robbery of all time. You could not possibly be detected because no one can see you. Roy. No, shut up. I'm here. Of course, if I'm not back to my normal self in two minutes' time, I shall kill you anyway. But given that you are serious and this is your doing and not a ruddy great leg pull, I've got to admit, it's interesting. Yes. Roy. What's up? Roy.

Mr. Halsey. Welcome back amongst us. You may not... Oh, darling. I can see. Look, all of my arms, legs. Oh.

You can do this with a pill? I've worked for years. It's a mixture of medieval hocus-pocus and early Hindu legend. And it's all in here. Why didn't you try it out on yourself? I'm a bit of a coward. I thought something would go wrong. Charming. How does a million pounds between us strike you?

Let's talk about it. No risk whatsoever. How could there be? Ah, every time I leave you two alone, I find you deep in earnest conversation. Look, if I'm being taken for a ride... Roy, how could you?

Martin was just telling me how he can steal a million pounds and not be caught. Oh, Martin now, is it? I see. If we're to work together, I think Christian names are necessary, don't you? Mm-hmm.

I phoned the bank. Told them I think I'm getting Asian flu. Good. I'll write you out a prescription. Now, you must go back to work tomorrow, of course. As chief teller, after the manager, you will say the closing of the vaults, etc. This is your responsibility? That's right. Hey, I've just realized something. What's the good of being invisible if everybody's going to see my clothes walking about? You won't wear clothes. I see. You want me to go naked? Exactly. Naked through the streets? You can't do that. You'll be arrested.

I see. Precisely. You see, but they won't see. I'll catch my death of cold. I'll write you out a prescription. A cold, Mr. Horsey, a mere cold. For half a million? Three quarters of a million. Three ways, and there's two of us. It's my pill. Who's taking the risks? Anyway, wait.

Dirty bread day. Yes, and... What? Dirty bread day. Last Thursday of every month. All the muck is shoved back to the mint. Lovely, dirty old notes. That's what we want. Genius. I know. It's my job. Your job? Yeah, with Rawlings. Who's Rawlings? He's the bank guard. It's our job. Last Thursday of every month, we fill the hamper. About nine in the mornings, and it stays there till eleven. Then they come for it. Who? The pods from the mint. Ready-grade armoured car.

Very nice, all those old notes, you see. Lovely. Never trace them. Spend them at once, you could. Ah, Paris, Stockholm, the Far East. Rich. Never to see another appendix as long as I live. How far I'm in the country, darling. Get up late. Never get up at all on frosty mornings. Lie in bed with Sally. Beautiful. Doctor, you could only lie in bed with Sally. I mean... Yes, well, now let's see. Plan. Here.

Ah. This bank guard, clever, intelligent. He's a bank guard. Yes, of course. So you go down with him, yes? That's right. We pack the hamper, check things generally, and then... Wait a minute.

The best thing is for you to be invisible, because great minds think alike. Just what I was thinking. Darling, make us some coffee. This is getting interesting. Steel minds.

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And then you slip in...

While me and old Rawlins go in, and then... And then we go out, leaving you in there. Invisible. Quite. And then you find you've left your glasses or your... Bullseyes. You find you've left your bullseyes in the vault. Bullseyes? Yeah, I chew them all the time at work. He gave up smoking, you see. Rawlins rags me about him. He smokes like a chimney. In fact, he'll want a quick puff while we're down there.

Now, he might not come back with me, but if he does, you must distract him while I slip out with a hamper. Three doors along from the vault, there's the southern electricity supply cupboard. It's eight by eight, roughly. Now, I'll have it unlocked that morning. I'll see to all that. Now, in there with a hamper, and then... Oh, how do you... I mean... What if... No, shut up, darling. You haven't got a criminal's mind. It's hopeless. Just help me spend the notes. I have it...

You complain of a headache. You must go to the chemist. Out you go, you take a pill and return in three minutes. Invisible. Three minutes? That's all it takes, remember? I told you to take the sleeping pill three minutes before you went to bed. So I went invisible as soon as that? I didn't notice. But you probably don't sleep with the light on. I mean, you would feel your husband's presence and... Well, I mean... Oh, yes, I felt his presence.

I knew he was there, all right. Where were we? You return to the bank, come to me, and we carry the hamper out together. Two completely invisible men. With a hamper? Yeah, brilliant. Big hamper? It can't fail. What about this hamper? What about the hamper? What do you keep on about the...

Oh. Oh, yeah. I didn't think of that. Big hamper floating through the streets, eh? Yeah. Can't give the hamper a bill, can you? Oh, we're left with a problem. Yeah. Let's work on it. More coffee, love? Dodgy, that is. Big hamper floating down the high street. It's going to be ruddy cold, isn't it? Embarrassing, too, really. So, think. There we are. Both in the cupboard place where all the electricity is. With the hamper of money. Both starters.

Yeah, both, uh, sans clothes. Now... Yes, mustn't leave it to improvisation, must we? Too risky. Hey, uh, this pill affair, um, how long... How long what? Well, how long does the invisibility last? As long as I wish it to last. Last evening, I told you to take my pill at 10.30. You told me you were regular to bed. You also said your alarm went off every morning at 6.30.

10.30 to 6.30, a civilized eight hours. I calculated nine and a half and stood by my phone this morning. Stood by? Yes. If your wife hadn't rung when she did, I would have phoned you. I was dressed and ready for the car that sometimes won't start. The

This morning it did. Dodgy doctor you are. Coffee. Sorry you're just here. With the money from the robbery, I shall buy two Rolls Royces, one with a wicker work side. Yeah, but for the moment, we're both naked in a cupboard with a lot of money. Our goose pimples won't be seen, will they? Don't be frivolous. Think. Think? Think.

Eureka! Brilliant! So, I will take it upon myself to make sure there's a vacuum cleaner in the electricity cupboard.

There always is. That's where Mrs. Champion keeps all the cleaning doings. You're going to stuff the money in the key now? And move it, stuffed with money, foot by foot, yard by yard, along the vault corridor and up the stairs into the lending department and out into insurances and car policies. That way into the main bank. Ah.

No one will give a vacuum cleaner leaning against a wall a second glance. Of course, one of us, in his invisibility, will have to go ahead and warn the other of anyone approaching. Yes, yes, you're right. It wouldn't do to have the manager spy a cleaner floating along the corridor. The main bank chamber will be tricky. There's no other way? No, no. Through the main bank floor and into Savings...

Never many people in savings these days. That's the small left-hand entrance. Now, outside there... You want me with a car? Vacuum cleaner to the door. Leave it there for a moment and then whip it out into the car and away. It's foolproof. Ah, there we go again, Miss Dorsey.

I love old notes. There I do. Only chance I get some of quiet puff. You're incorrigible, Rawlings. You should stick to bullseyes. Right, let's get on with it then. I wonder how many millions there is today. Just think, it's got to be burned. All that lovely money. It really hurts. Gets you right here.

Okay.

Oh, blast. What? I left my bullseyes in the vault. I think I'll just whip back for them, eh? I'll wait here. Save me feet. Right, hang on. Are you there? Phew, I was worried. Here is another control.

Doctor. What? There's a big smudge of soot down... Where? It'll be your cheek. I've gone to grief. It's gone? No. It must be my left. Okay. Wouldn't have done to see a smudge of soot walking about in my ear, would it? Right. Have your pill. Right. I've decided I'm toothache. They wouldn't expect me back too soon. Hurry. Hurry.

Miss Crossfield, if anyone needs me, I've got the devil of a toothache. It's killing me. I'll be back soon. Miss Crossfield!

You were so long. Is that you, Roy? It's me. I'm all right. And I can't see an inch of you. Lovely. Everything all right? Every note in. The cleanest stuff. All right, let's go. Blimey. The bag won't burst, will it? No. Come on. Someone's coming. Right. Yes!

So I says to Fred, I wouldn't never dare come home again if I forgot to post your football coupon that'd come up. I'd be off quick as a flash to the other side of the world. Oh, my heart. It won't stand it. Come on. Yes!

No. Don't move it. Where's the manager? He's looking. He's looking at the cleaner. Oh, no. It's all up. No, he's gone. Quick. A couple of inches. Quick.

Okay. There's the door. Wonderful idea, this cleaner. No one cares about a vacuum cleaner. Oh, there it is. I've been wondering where this was. Oh, no. Eh? Who's that? Funny. Funny.

Roy, keep calm, keep calm. She always tries this on a Thursday. Always the same. Tries to get cleaning done so she can get out quickly. Ten past four. Crikey, I'm freezing. It's getting late. Oh!

It's half past. Mrs. Champion, the manager says to stop cleaning this minute. Oh, blimey. You've got to wait till five. I knew I should never take a job in a bank what stays open late. All decent banks close at three. Oh, no. She's taking it away. We're sunk. Doctor, I can see your foot. What?

Roy, I can see your... It's worn off, Horsey. It runs. Miss Dorsey, Miss Dorsey, what have you done with your clowns? Call the police. They've got no clowns. Oh, bloody spoilsports. Not letting me get ahead with my cleaning. Oh.

This bag hasn't been emptied in years, nor the queue will full up. Fella! Marley's money! Look at it! Oh! Fella! I never did! Here, I wonder. Wait a minute. Oh!

I'm sorry.

Yes. I think I have a large double-quantro, thank you. I've always been partial to a little bit of liquor on my overseas trips, you know. Certainly, madam. Going abroad for long? Oh, a few years, perhaps. Always rather fancy, Japan. I might push on into Australia. Because suddenly, you know, my husband Fred's always wanted a sheep farm, too. Haven't you, Fred? Yes, of course you have. I envy you, madam. But...

One large, quatrain. Good heavens! Here, see this, Fred? Two naked men arrested in Citibank yesterday morning.

Two naked men were app... were appended in the National and Provincial Bank yesterday afternoon shortly before closing. They behaved in a very strange manner and both tried to run screaming out of the door. They've been arrested on charges of public indecency... Well, I never did. It's a queer old world we're living in, isn't it? I wonder if we like Australia, Fred?

Yeah, that's the bank I worked in, for I got my little windfall. Isn't that funny? The 11th Hour this week was written and produced by Michael McCabe. Tired out from spring house cleaning? Find your life uninteresting? Want to get away from it all? We offer you Escape!

You are drifting on the burning glassy surface of a tropical sea, trapped on a flimsy raft with three murderous companions from whom you cannot escape. Escape, designed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure. Tonight, at your request...

We bring back one of our most popular escape stories. We take you to Noumea in the South Pacific, a French penal colony as notorious as Devil's Island. And we invite you to escape from Noumea in John Russell's The Fourth Man. The raft stood to open sea. A mat of pandanus leaves served for its sail and a paddle of wood for its helm.

Its flooring was woven of reeds and bamboo sticks and rested on triple rows of bladders. It was light, elastic, fit to ride any weather. And it carried four men. Three of them sat huddled together at the far end. Their bodies were blackened with dry blood. The hair upon them was long and matted. They wore only the rags of convicts' blue canvas uniforms. On wrists and ankle they carried their mark, the dark and wrinkled stain of the manacles.

There was Du Boz, doctor, leader, man of the world, murderer. Friends, the thing is done. And Fennero, forger, ladies' man, weakling, coward. Yes, we got away, all right. And the one known as the parrot, thief, and cutthroat. So far, so good. Gentlemen, by way of celebration, may I offer you...

Cigarettes. Cigarettes! Oh, Doctor, you're a marvellous magician. Look at them. White and fresh as though they just came from the package. How did you do it? Every six months, there are about 75 escapes from Numia. And not more than one succeeds. Ours would be that one I knew. And so, three weeks ago, I bribed the night guard for these very cigarettes. So that we might sit here, my friends, as we are doing and celebrate. I want a light. Yes, a light.

for the parrot. Oh, our doctor is a wonder. He thinks of everything. He gives us cigarettes, matches, and our freedom. Wait, wait till you've got your two feet on a pavement again. That will be the time to talk about freedom. Hmm.

To wear starched collars again. To stroll with a girl, clean and fresh from her bath, down the Place de la Concorde, the Rue de Rivoli. Suppose we get a storm. It's not the season of storms. Just the same. Suppose we get a storm. Very good, my friend. You must not be so impatient. We were convicts back there, festering in oblivion. And now we stand on the rosy threshold of the big round world again. We are men raised from the dead. Suppose we get a storm. Ah!

You have got a gift of speech, but where's the ship that was going to meet us here? This is the day as agreed. It will meet us. This wind will blow us to China if we keep on... We can't lie any closer to shore. There's a government launch at Dorion, and I doubt if the native trackers have given up yet. Careful, Parrot. They will eat you yet. I've heard about that. Is it true, Doctor, that the natives keep all the runways they can capture to fatten on them? They prefer the reward...

Still, I doubt if they've entirely lost the habit of cannibalism. Yes, piece by piece, Parrot. First they will sample you, then they will make a stew of your brains. They won't miss a thing. Shut up, Fenneroo. You filthy brutes. You know, I forgot. We have one of them with us. The fourth man was steering the raft. He sat crouched in the stern, his body glistening with spray.

His huge dark hands held the steering paddle. He was motionless like an idol. His eyes fixed on the course ahead. The fourth man on the raft. My friends, you are looking at a Kanaka. You will see nothing superior. No line of beauty to redeem the low angle of the forehead, the knobby joints of the body. Nature has stamped him with the mark of inferiority.

And he has set the final seal himself with that twist of bark about his middle, that prong of pig ivory through his nose. Nonetheless, he is a man, and there is a price on our heads. He could be taking us where he lied. Calm yourself, Nero. He is a very simple animal, an infant really. Does that mean he could not double-cross us? It does.

He's bound by his duty. I made my bargain with his chief up the river. And this one is sent to deliver us on board our ship. It's the only interest he has in us. And he will do it? He will. It is the nature of the native. Ah, I don't trust him. Not for a minute. The brute. The animal. You! It's you I'm talking about, you filthy brute. Parrot. Save your breath, Parrot.

He speaks no language, only a few noises, a few signs. I don't feel right on the same raft with that. Go on, burn yourself up in the sun. Me? Me, I will just stretch out a little under these mats. Yes, we should all sleep a little, conserve ourselves. When we awake, she'll be there, the ship, our pretty little topsail schooner, our mast standing out against the sky.

And we'll be on our way to France. Sleep, my friend. The two younger convicts dozed under the heat of the day. But not Dr. Du Bois. He stood once again to sweep the skyline under his shaded hand. His plan had been so careful, so precise. He had counted absolutely on meeting the ship, the small schooner.

one of those flitting, half-piratical traders of the Copra Islands that can be hired like cabs in a dark street for any sinister enterprise. But there was no ship, and there was no crossroads where one might sit and wait. ♪♪

Good morning, Doctor. It's afternoon, Finneroo. Oh, yes it is. I slept like a corpse. And where's the ship, Doctor? It was going to be there when we awoke. Oh, I'm thirsty. I'm dying of thirst. So be all, Finneroo. Where is the flask? I'm roasted in the sun. You'll have to roast some more. This crew is put on rations. What are you talking about?

Where is that water? I have it here. So you have. Do you think it's yours? It's ours, Parrot. I want a drink. Think a little, Parrot. We have to guard our supplies like reasonable men. We don't know how long we may be floating here. So, that's how you talk now. You don't know how long. But you were sure enough when we started. I am still sure. The ship will come.

She can't stay with us in one spot. She will be cruising to and fro until she intercepts us. We must wait. Ah, that's good, good. Wait, wait. And in the meantime, what? Fry here in this heat? Our tongues hanging out while you did us out drop by drop? Perhaps. No!

The man does not live who can feed me with a spoon. With a spoon? Laugh, you scum! But you're in this too, with this captain who thinks of everything and still puts to sea without provisions. Go on, laugh again. Laugh! I wasn't laughing, Parrot. It's true. A bad piece of work for a captain of runaways. Unless you would die very speedily, we must guard our water. And whose fault is it? Mine, I admit it!

What then? Here we are and here we must stay. We can only do our best with what we have. All right, doctor. Do your best. Give me a drink. You may have your share, of course. But be warned. When it is gone, don't come to us. To Fennero and me. No, what's Fennero's fault? My drink! A thimbleful? One thimble? This way we should have enough for three days. Perhaps more.

With equal shares among the three of us. That's right. There are only three of us. Who are you thinking of him, Fennero? Of our pilot? He looks somewhat like us, doesn't he? But his body has never known clothing. His feet, shoes. His heart has never known the swelling that comes with feelings of love or beauty. His mind has never known a single thought.

Look at us three gentlemen. You, Phineau, a forger. You, Parrot, a thief. I, the Libraux of Paris and Marseille, a murderer. And yet, we are civilized men. And this is a savage animal. Our provisions are for men only. The three men awoke to their second day on the raft.

They looked and saw the far round horizon and the empty desert of the sea and their own long shadows that slipped slowly before them over its smooth, slow heaving. The land had sunk away from them in the night. The trap had been sprung. As the savage sun kindled upon them with the power of a burning glass, a calm fell, an absolute calm. The air hung, waited.

The sea heaved and fell in polished undulations, and the sun shone, driving in under their eyelids like white-hot splinters. They crawled to the shelter of their mats, gasping, shriveling. And the water, the world of water, was slack and thick as oil. Oh, Mordew.

How lonely it is. Captain LeBron. Yes, Parrot. Look around you. What do you mean? Go on, look around. What do you see?

I see water, parrots, the horizon, nothing else. What? Don't you see a sheep? A pretty little schooner? Those were your words. Well, where is it? Why don't you see it? It will come. Will it come for us to be dead when it comes? Doctor, you say that you count on your friends, but suppose they leave you to rot here, leave Parrot and me to rot here. That would be a joke, eh, Doctor? To wait for a ship that will never come. It will come.

My friends will not fail me. But why? How do you know? How can you be so sure? There is a safety vault in Paris full of papers to be opened at my death. Those papers contain confessions. No, gentlemen. My friends will not fail me. Parrot. A moment ago you asked what I saw. Well? There was something I neglected. What was that? I see a kanaka on this raft with us.

He does not join us, he does not look at us. He sits on his heels in the way of the native, with his arms hugging his knees. He sits at the stern, motionless under the shattering sun, gazing out into vacancy. Whenever I raise my eyes, I see nothing else, only this Kanaka. And he seems to be enjoying himself quite well. I was thinking so myself. The cannibal, the savage...

He does not seem to suffer. What's going on in his brain? What does he dream there? He looks at us as though he hates us. The dirty rat. Maybe he's waiting for us to die. Maybe he's waiting for the reward. At least he wouldn't starve on the way home. And he could deliver us piece by piece. How does he do it? Has he not any feelings? I'd be wondering about that.

It may be that his fibres are tougher, his nerves are stronger. But we have had water and he has not. And yet, see, his skin is fresh and moist. And his belly round as a melon. His nerves. Don't tell me this savage is thirsty. Is there any way he could steal our supplies? Certainly not.

Suppose he has his own supplies hidden. What? Search the raft. Look under the mat. I've heard him this morning. Did you hear? No, there. Doctor. Over there. Oh, I'm sorry. You were mistaken. He has nothing hidden. You're wrong about him, Doctor, when you say he has no understanding. There is one thing he knows and knows well. Pain.

There, scum! That will teach you! Not so cheap a love are you! Not so happy with your luck! That will make you flee! A higher race tramples the savage, we go without cause. And that is natural.

And the savage creeps away into his place with his hurts and his wrongs and makes no sign and strikes no blow. And that is natural, too. Yes, that is all very well, Doctor. But we still must have our pilot. Come back, my friends, back under the mats. The glare of the sun is not so bad there. So the days dragged by.

The second and the third and now it was the fourth day and still there was no breeze and still there was no ship. Doctor? Yes? What do you stare at? At him, the savage. Look at him and look at us.

We are dying. Our powers are ebbing. And him? Snake and wild, brutish. He's yet to give the slightest sign of complaint or weakness. Yes, yes, it's true. At night he stretches out and sleeps. Those long hours when we wrestle and fight with despair, he sleeps like a child. Many the morning he resumes his place after, unchanged. Freaks. A growing wonder. Doctor, is this a man or a fiend? A man is man. A miracle. He's a man and a very poor and wretched example of a man.

You will find no lower type anywhere. Look at his cranial angle, the high E as the heavy bones of his skull. He's scarcely above an ape. Then what? He has a secret. Secret? But we see him every move he makes, every minute. What chance has he for a secret? I hope so. Here are we three, children of the century, products of civilization. And here is this man who belongs before the Stone Age.

In a set trial of fitness, of wits, of resources, is he to win? It's absurd. What kind of secret? I can't say. Perhaps some method of breathing, some strange posture he uses to cheat the sensations of the body. Such things are known among primitive peoples, known and jealously guarded, like the properties of certain drugs, the uses of hypnotism, who knows? We can know. We can find out. To ask him? Useless. He will not tell. Why should he? We scorn him. We

give him no share with us. We abuse him. And so he falls back on his own expedience. He remains silent as he always has been, as he always will be.

He never tells the secrets. They are the means by which he has survived from the depths of time, by which he may yet survive when all our wisdom is dusted. There are a number of ways of learning secrets. I know them all. Oh, Parrot, it would be useless. He could stand any torture you might invent. You saw how he behaved before. Now,

It's not the way. Talk, talk. I'm tired of all this talk. Kill him and throw him over. Let's be rid of this thing. We gain nothing. Then what do you want? To beat him. That's what I want. To beat him at the game. For our own sakes. For our own racial pride. We must...

To outlast him. To prove ourselves his masters. By better brain. By better organization and control. Watch him. Watch him, my friends. So that we may trap him. So that we may find him out. And defeat him in the end. Watch. I will watch all right. You old winged bag.

I'm not sleeping anymore. To leave you alone with that bottle. The bottle. Oh, the bottle. I've been meaning to discuss our relations with you. Have you? We are running very short. I'm afraid we must all take a cut again. And what are we down to now, Doctor? Half a thimbleful. No. We must keep up with... I say no! Then we'll put it to a vote. You say no, I say yes.

Yes, yes, yes, anything. But give me mine now. Then it's half a thimble full for Monsieur Fennerud, your share, Fennerud. More, more, or I'll die. More. No more today. You must, you must. Oh, doctor. No more today. Look, a ship, a ship. Where is it? Where is it? The bottle, doctor. What? Here's the bottle. He drank it. He drank it.

Look at him. You killed him with that oar. What about the bottle? There's some left. You caught him just in time. And you caught the bottle just in time. It seems I did. And there's no ship. There will be no ship. We are done because of you and your dirty promises that brought us here. Doctor, liar, fool. Don't come any closer. Unless you want this flask broken over your head. No, I would not want that.

All right, all right, just think. Why should you and I fight? We can see this trouble through and win, yet. This weather can't last forever. Besides, now, here would be only two of us to divide the water, yes? That is true, is it not? Fenneru kindly leaves us his share, an inheritance. All right, I'll take mine now. My share now, if you please.

Later, we shall see. So be it. Dear Cher, many thanks. Fennero, Cher, to me, please. As you say. And now, another. Another good doctor. Three. That's enough, Perrin. No, doctor. It is not enough. I will kill your ass. Stop, Perrin. Stop. Your arm. Please. I will kill you if you don't. Thank you.

You see, I have manners, haven't I? And I have wisdom, too. Because I have fooled a very wise man. I toast you, Doctor. The best man wins. It was a very bright idea of yours. The best... So, the best man wins. But you forgot I am a doctor, didn't you?

The water you would kill for has killed you. A man cannot go without water for four days, then drink his fill and still live. Come on, parrot. Gasp out your worthless life while I laugh. The best man always wins. The best man always... So, the best man wins. Yes, Doctor. Fanny, how...

Forgot my knife, didn't you? Forgot me lying at your feet while you divided my share of the water. Gave me up for dead, did you? But I, Fennero, will outlast two of you. Fennero, the best man. Fennero, you fool. The water is running out.

Come in, come in. The longboat's back, Captain.

The raft was here all the time, not ten miles away from us. Ah, that calm. Such a misfortune. Well, where are they, the passengers? We're too late. They're all dead. Will you mind your business? But one is stabbed to death, another is skull-crushed, another fried by the sun. All dead. Well, then, all the better. It'll cost nothing to feed. But how... Hogsheads, my friend, the hogsheads in the afterhold. Fill them nicely with brine, and there we are. Ida...

I don't understand. You're dull, Marto, very dull. The gentleman's passage is all paid before we left Sydney. I contracted to bring back three escaped convicts. Well, I'll bring them back in pickle. So if you'll go back, Marto, and bring them aboard for the trip, I'll be much obliged. Very well. Oh, there's a fourth man on the raft, Captain. A kanaka. Still alive. What'll we do with him? A kanaka? No word in my contract about any kanakas. Leave him there.

After all, he's only a savage. And so Dr. DuBose and Fenerow and the parrot went aboard for a long trip to their beloved Paris, their bodies pitching and rolling gently in the huge vats of brine. On the raft, the fourth man raised his head slightly as a wind freshened from the west. He watched until the schooner turned, shaping a way for Australia, and disappeared over the rim of the horizon.

Then he turned his raft, spread his sail of pandanus leaves, and headed the raft eastward, back toward New Caledonia, toward home. Feeling somewhat dry after his exertion, the native plucked a hollow reed at random from the rushes on his raft. Slowly, lazily, he stretched himself at full length in his accustomed place at the stern. He thrust the reed down into one of the bladders underneath the raft,

and drank his fill of sweet water. He had a dozen such storage bladders remaining, built into the floats at intervals above the waterline, quite enough to last him safely home again. ♪♪

Escape is produced and directed by Norman MacDonald, and tonight brought to you The Fourth Man by John Russell, adapted for radio by Irving Ravitch, and featuring Barry Kroger as the Doctor, Joseph Kearns as Fenneru, Jane Avello as Parrot, Lou Merrill as the Captain, Byron Kane as Morteau, and Eric Rolfe as the narrator. Music is conceived by Cy Fuhrer and conducted by Wilbur Hatch. Next week... You are groping...

In the dark of an African night, trapped on a dock above a crocodile-infested river, fighting for your life against a ruthless giant from whom you must escape. Next week, we escape with Robert Simpson's tense story, John Jock Todd.

Good night, then, until the same time next week, when once again we offer you Escape. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System. October 1940.

Suddenly, peace was a fraud. From overseas, the agony of the innocent massacre was rising, darkening the light of the world, making a mockery out of the wily stratagems of temporal political alliances. To me, the issue became a simple one. Freedom.

I wrote a play, and the distinguished actor Raymond Massey said, yes, of course, I'll do it anywhere, anytime. But the radio network said, sorry, we're not at war. We have no enemy. We still do business with all customers. So Mr. Massey and I flew to New York from California, pounded on tables, until the microphones were given us in small surrender.

Every Man's Theater, written especially for radio by Arch Obler.

Tonight, our star is the celebrated actor of stage and screen, Mr. Raymond Massey, in an adventure of our times, This Precious Freedom, the second of an exciting series of plays, especially written for radio, and brought to you each Friday at this time and over this station by Oxidol. And now, Mr. Obler, to tell you more about tonight's program in every man's theater. This is a fictional story, a play about a tomorrow which would never happen here.

Morgan? Yes, sir? Can't you make this crate of mine go faster? Sorry, Mr. Stevenson. We're bucking a pretty stiff headwind. Come now, don't tell me the heavens are conspiring to keep me from getting back to work. Open her up, Morgan. I've had enough vacation. Yes, sir? That's better.

You know, Morgan, I should think you'd be as eager to get back to the city as I am. After all, a young fellow like you, a month up in the woods with nothing around but those overstuffed squaws. Well, I for one am going to be glad to get back in harness again. Of course, I'm not going to admit that to Mrs. Stevenson. I talked to her for the last ten years about cutting myself off from civilization and having a real vacation and...

Morgan, what's the matter? Oil line opened. By George. Take it easy, Mr. Stevenson. We're okay. Just fasten your safety belt. Where are you going to land? The field ahead. Hold on. Don't be afraid. Don't be a fool. I've been in forced landings before. All I want to do is to get down there fast. I've got to get the city. Got to get back to my business.

Well, guess there's no one home, Mr. Stevenson. No one in the fields. No one to help us. Fine into a vacation. I guess we'd better try to flag a ride into town. Wait a minute. Huh? Someone coming. Well, how do you do? We just had a forced landing out in one of your fields. What do you want?

But I'm trying to tell you. We had a forced landing out there in your field. Could I use your telephone? Wait a minute. Who are you? I don't see what earthly difference that makes. All I want is to use your telephone. Why, you... Morgan, did you see that? Slam the door in my face. Yeah. In my face, infernal fool. Mr. Stevenson, you know, that guy was awful scared.

This is the main road, isn't it? That's what the sign says. Then where's the traffic? We stood here for an hour. Doesn't make sense, that, on the main road. Hey, wait, Mr. Stevenson. Here comes a truck. Well, about time. If he don't stop... We'll make him stop. Driver! Driver! Driver! Hey, driver, stop! Stop! Stop! Driver, my plane, I had a forced landing out here. Could you drive me into the city? Did you hear me?

I'll give you $25. Okay. Jump in. Morgan, you better stay here with the plane. I'll send someone back. Yes, sir. I hope you're a fast driver. Fast enough.

Well, for a while there, I thought there weren't any trucks on the road anymore. Not many. But this is the main highway. No, it's practically empty. Why? Mister, I'm just a driver. Ah, some sort of labor disturbance, eh? You kidding me? What are you talking about? I'm not talking, mister. You are. Look here, I've been vacationing up in the woods for weeks. I deliberately haven't read a newspaper or heard a radio in all that time. But now that I'm back...

Oh, well, I might as well start taking it again. What's up? Well, why don't you answer me? Mister, I'm just driving. What is this anyway? All I want is a civil answer. I don't know any answers, mister. You'll find them out for yourself.

15, 20, 25. There you are. Okay. Well, I certainly didn't get any conversation for my money. Are you getting off, mister? Yes, of course. Manners certainly haven't improved while I've been away. Goodbye.

Paper? Paper, Mr. Paper? Yes, yes, of course, boys. Let me have one of each. Huh? I said one of each. Each newspaper. Who are you kidding? Say, what's come over everyone here? Give me a Tribune, a News, Times, all of them. Well, don't stand there. I'm in a hurry. Mr., don't you know? Know what? What? Boy! Boy, come back here! Where are you going? Come back here!

Well, at least my office is still here. Door's stuck. Fine business. Can't get even into my own office. Well. Open up. Open up. No one in there?

Door locked. Where's my key? Nice business. 11.30 and they haven't even opened the office. That's loyalty for you. Didn't expect me back so soon, I suppose. Entire office staff decided to take a vacation while... What in the... Desk. File's gone. Office empty. Where in the... Are you looking for something, mister? Regan! Regan! Who are you? Regan, don't you know me? What's going on here? Look...

Mr. Stevenson. What's happened to my office? Where are all my things? What's going on here? Don't stand there with your mouth open. Tell me. Dead? I thought you was dead. What are you talking about? Everyone knew I was going on a vacation. What's happened to my things? Where are all my people? Answer me. You don't know. Know what? Talk words, man. What's happened to my business?

Mr. Stevenson, I... I can't tell you. What do you mean you can't tell me? You're the manager of the building. Who moved out my office? Where are all my things? Answer me! You're hurting me. Answer me! You... Can't ask questions, Mr. Stevenson. What? Go home, Mr. Stevenson. Please. Go home quick. Mr. Stevenson.

Gene. Gene? Where are you? Gene? Gene! It's been for somebody, fella. Who? Stand still. Frisk him, Joe. Yeah. Who in the devil... Keep your mouth shut. How dare you? Get out of my house. Start walking, fella. Walking? What do you mean? Somebody wants to talk to you. What...

What are you, police? Sure, start moving. But, but why? Mister, get going. No. If you're police, where are your warrants? Yes, where are your warrants? Here. No, don't. Up. Head. Room.

Where? What? Oh, man. What is he? You all right? Yes. No, no, no. You better not try to stand up. Take it easy. Are they police? Yeah. In a way.

Someone made a mistake. No, no, no mistake, Mr. Stevenson. My name. You know it. Yeah. I used to do business with your company once. Always treated me fine. Who are you? Me? Oh, nobody. Just sort of clean up. Where am I? Mr. Stevenson, there are some things I can't tell you. Mistake. Horrible mistake. I'm John Stevenson.

I'm a respectable citizen. I...

My wife. I've got to get in touch with Jean. She'll be worried. She wasn't home. Now, take it easy. No, wait. The mayor. Yes, the mayor. He's a friend of mine. Get the telephone. Tell the mayor what's happened. If they come in here again... Let them come in. I've got nothing to be afraid of. I've done nothing. Come into my house without a warrant. They've got no right. No, Mr. Stevenson. You don't understand. Please, Mr. Stevens. Understand what? Tell me. Things are...

Different? What do you mean? What's it got to do with this? With me? Mr. Stevenson, there's something I don't understand. Where have you been? Been? Out of the city, in the woods. Don't waste time, man. Call up the mayor. Tell him. But that won't do any good. Why not? There's been a mistake. There's been no mistake, Mr. Stevenson. I guess maybe you're the only one in the whole country who don't know about it. Talk sense, man. Well, I'm trying to.

I don't know exactly how to say it. Well, well. Well, first they, well, that part of the Constitution, they threw it out. Carter, what the devil are you talking about? That part of the Constitution. You know about rights. Threw it out.

The way I got it figured out, when the others ganged up on us, all them battleships and airplanes, well, there wasn't much we could do now, was there? Had to sort of, well, throw in the towel. Are you trying to tell me that while I was away there's been...

An invasion? Invasion? Well, well, they ain't gone all the way. I mean, just this piece of the coast. Get out of here. What? You heard me, get out. Haven't I had enough today without listening to you, you crazy old fool? But, Mr. Stevens... Get out, I tell you. Listen, someone out there, get this crazy old fool out of here. If this is a jail, get me my lawyer. What am I being held here for? What are the charges? Get me my lawyer. Get me my lawyer. Get me my lawyer.

So, uh, you still insist on having a lawyer? Certainly. If there's some criminal charge against me, I have a right to have a lawyer. Right, right, right. What right are you talking about? You... you're obviously some sort of police official. Well, let me tell you, a horrible mistake has been made. I'm no criminal. I'm John Stevens, an ordinary businessman.

Call Mayor Olden. He'll tell you. He'll tell us nothing. The man is of no importance. No importance? But the mayor. The mayor of what? The worms? Worms? The man is dead. But that too is of no importance. What is important to me is you and your activities. I... I don't know what you're talking about. Your so-called vacation trip. Whom did you meet? Meet? What do you... Don't ask questions. Answer them.

You've been out of the city for weeks. Suddenly you return. Where were you? On... On my vacation, of course. Is there any law against that? For the last time, don't try to be clever with me. Once and for all, will you tell me what the charges are against me? There's no law against me.

There's been some kind of terrible mistake. All right, but tell me what the charges are. Give me a chance to clear myself. I have wasted quite enough time with you, Mr. Stevenson. Let me postpone. Let me call my lawyer. You have no right to keep me here. My wife, she wasn't home when I was taken away. She'd be worried. Yes, of course, your wife. Have you any idea where your wife is, Mr. Stevenson? Why, home, I suppose. Yes, she must be there now. If you'll hand me the phone. She is not home, believe me.

Why do you say that? All right, Sergeant. Come here. Gene. Gene!

Jean, what are you doing here? What is it? Jean, stop crying. I'm all right. There's been some crazy mistake, but... Jean, why should you cry like this? You never cry. Jean, the children, are they all right? Jean, talk to me. Stop crying and talk to me. She knows better. Better? What are you talking about? Jean, lift your face. What's happened? What's wrong? Take her away. No, she'll stay here.

Gene, you tell me what this is about. Has everyone gone crazy? No, let go of her, you bastard! Let go of me! Bring her back here! Bring her back here! I'll kill you! Gene! Gene! You will be quite calm now, A.D. Mr. Stevenson. Yes, yes, I'm sure you will.

We have quite a technique for calming down unreasonable people, haven't we? You. So you're still possessed in talking. So, discipline. That is the first lesson you must learn in this new state of ours. Discipline. Always discipline. It is very strange, Mr. Stevenson. You've been here now over an hour, and yet there is very little fear in your face. I wonder why. Astonishment? Yes.

Yes, yes, a sort of astonished wonder in your face as if you can't believe. Could you possibly be ignorant of the facts? This glorious new state that we are planting here. This fulfillment of the dream some of us have had since the day we heard a voice telling us of our destiny. A dream that will come true. This will soon be our nation now, Mr. Stevenson. Ours. All of it.

Your men are fighting, yes, but we will win. Wondering your face? Yes. Sometimes I ask myself, can it be true? The wonder of it yet? No wonder of it. The plan, Mr. Stevenson, the plan. Always it was there and always we followed it. We poured our propaganda in on you. Yes, we used your own weaknesses against you. We cried, let us speak. It is our right. How simple it was to use your own rights against you. So now you have no right, Stevenson. No one has right but we who are leaders.

I was quite carried away, wasn't I? I must not forget to let you speak. We want to know many things. Every detail of your airplane trip. Whom you saw. Which of our enemies are hiding up there where you were. I warn you. Answer quickly, Stevenson. Who were your friends? Which of our enemies did you meet? Who were your friends? Whom did you meet? Where did you go? Whom did you meet? Where did you go?

Put him here. Yeah. Dead yet? No, not yet. Dead yet? No, not yet. Who said that? I can't see. All mixed up. Vacation. Enemies of the state. Airplane. I don't know.

All mixed up. No, no, no. Got to stop. Got to think. Pain. No. Got to think things out. What's happened to me?

What? Our glorious new state. We who are the leaders. This will be our nation soon. Voices in my head. All mixed up. Think things out. I've got to go crazy. From the start. Yes. From the start. Vacation. Coming back from my vacation.

Landed plane. Go away. Go away. Yes. That farmer. That guy was awful scared. Awful scared. Yes. Morgan, you said that. I don't know any answers. You'll find them out for yourself. Yes. Truck driver. Mister, don't you know? Mister, don't you know? Yes. Newsboy, he too. You can't ask questions, Mr. Stevenson. Things are different. You can't ask questions, Mr. Stevenson. Things are different. Yes. Yes, they said that. Everyone said that. Everyone talking to me.

Trying to tell me. I didn't know. I don't know. This will soon be our nation. It isn't true. No. It's all in my head. Gene. Gene. Where are you? Gene. Where are the children? Gene. Did I just cry out? Cry out? Why should I cry out?

My name is John Stevenson. I have a business in the Central Building. I have a house in Arcade Street. I have a wife, two children, a boy and a girl. We have a good life. A good life. Is he dead? Not yet. Dead? Dead? Dead? Why do I keep thinking that?

Who said it to me? Dead, dead, dead? Yes. I know. I remember. Going to kill me. I'm an enemy of the state. Our glorious new state. But it's so funny. John Stevenson, 832 Arcade Street, enemy of the state. I went on a vacation. I came home, and I'm an enemy of the state. Yes. My wife. The children, that's what he said.

Everyone, enemies of the new state. Oh, it's madness. I'm me. I can do what I want. I can get up out of here. Yes, I will get out of here. When John Stevens and you hurt me. Blood. No, I will get out of here. You can't accuse me and not give me a trial. Blood.

You can't come into my house. You can't take away my business. I'm a free man. I'm an American. This will be our nation soon. Ours. Ours. How could that be? Seeing as we weren't ready, there wasn't much we could do that way. Let's mind our own business. Nothing to do with us. Who? Who said that? Let's mind our own business. Nothing to do with us. I remember. I said that. Yes. All the time.

I said that. Men have no rights. None of my business. We spit on freedom. None of my business. Right is right. None of my business. Our leader, our people, our world. None of my business.

How could I? Why did I? Don't antagonize them. We'll have to do business with them. Let them talk. Mind their own business. Don't antagonize them. Yes, all the things I said. The scene is we weren't ready. There wasn't much we could do. Now what? Arculous, you speak! Dead yet, he will be. Dead yet, he will be. I do understand now. Dead yet, he will be. I wanted everything and I didn't want to risk anything to keep what I had. What I had.

What I had. Your home is your kingdom. Your own God is your God. Say what you want to say. Write what you want to write. Trial by jurist. Sanctity of person. True process of law. What I had. John! Jean, is that you? No, in my head. So dark. There's blood in my... So dark. Dead yet? He will be. Dead yet? He will be. Jean...

I'll tell you something very funny. I'm not afraid to die. No. I'm afraid to go on living. If all this isn't really a dream, bad dream, then I don't want to go on living. Everywhere I'd turn, they'd be there. Shut your mouth. You can't do that. Come with us. We accuse you. Shut your mouth. Give us that. Keep moving. Attention. Shut your mouth. Shut your mouth. No. I can't live with that. All my life, I lived with freedom.

Gee, we didn't know it was freedom, did we? Living in our house, a good life. Our neighbors, not hating anybody. And driving in the country with the kids wherever we wanted to go. And feeling sure of the future for the kids because whatever was wrong here, we ourselves could fix with work and with our votes and with what we knew was right in our hearts. I never said, this is freedom.

But it was. It was. When they talked to me about losing it, I said, don't be fools. No one will take it from us. I thought freedom was like the air, always with me as long as I lived. I thought I didn't have to do anything about it. Gene, I was wrong. I, I've got the words now to say it. What I had wasn't a gift. It was a victory. And I can't live without it.

Do you hear me out there? I won't live without it. To say what I think is right. To do what I think is right. That's the only life I want. It is life. I'll live for it. I'll fight for it. This precious freedom. The End

This is Arch Obler. May I present the leading actor of our play tonight, Mr. Raymond Massey. Ladies and gentlemen, I want to say this. At the opening of tonight's drama, Arch Obler said, this is a play of a tomorrow which should never happen.

I know all of you agree with me that this kind of a tomorrow must never happen. And it can never happen. As long as we all dedicate ourselves to live for the freedom of our fathers and the future freedom of our children. ♪♪ Every Man's Theater. Written especially for radio by Arch Obler. ♪♪

Murder by Spurs.

The Mutual Broadcasting System presents Murder by Experts, with your host and narrator, Mr. John Dixon Carr, world-famous mystery novelist and author of the recently published bestseller, The Life of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. This is John Dixon Carr. Each week at this time, Murder by Experts brings you a story of crime and mystery, which has been chosen for your approval by one of the world's leading detective writers.

Those experts who are themselves masters of the art of murder and can hold tensity at its highest. This time, our guest expert is the noted mystery writer, Mr. Bruno Fisher, who has selected a first moving, realistic study of a killer at large. Written by Joseph Ruskell and Paul Monash. And now we present Kenneth Lynch in Prescription for Murder. Prescription for Murder

On a Midwestern highway, a car bearing two men moves at a good speed through a dark and stormy night. The driver of the car has just turned on the car radio.

Now for the local and state news. A giant manhunt is on tonight for escaped convict Curly Elkins, who shot his way out of the state prison at Harmon a few hours ago, killing two guards in the getaway. Roads in the vicinity of Harmon have been blocked, and search parties are combing the woods for the escaped desperado.

All citizens are asked to be on the alert for Elkins, who is armed and dangerous. Elkins is six feet two, blue eyes, brown curly hair, pale complexion, with a horizontal scar on the left cheek. He was last seen wearing... Why did you turn it off, Doc? Why, I... That is, the fog's bad enough without news like that distracting me. Hey, watch that wheel, Doc. Your hand's shaking.

Why are you so nervous? Nervous? Well, it's just this fog. I can't see an inch ahead of me. It gives me the jitters. Oh, yeah. Say, thanks for stopping to give me a lift. Oh, that's perfectly all right. Didn't think I'd ever get a lift tonight. No one likes to take on a hitchhiker. You from these parts? In a way. You said you were going into town? Yeah. Which town? Oh, same one you're headed for. Somerset? Yeah, Somerset. That's it.

You know, it's funny how you get chummy on the road and tell your life's history, huh? See you at Dr. Richard Bennett. You're going to Somerset to take over some ailing old M.D.'s practice. His daughter, too, huh? What's her name again? Marsha? Yes. What town did I pick you up at, friend? Harmon. So you've never seen Marsha or her old man, huh? Why, no. No, I haven't. Just exchanged letters with her from overseas Japan. Now here you are, coming to a strange town to take over. Ha ha.

Life history. It's funny the way guys open up on the road, ain't it? Now you take me. You know all about me, too, huh? No, I don't. You sure? You didn't say a word. You didn't open your mouth till now, just now, and... When what? When you turned the radio off and stared at me? I stared at you? Yeah. Now watch the road, Doc. What was so interesting? Nothing. Nothing?

Nothing at all. No, no, come on, tell me, Doc. Why did you look at me like that? Why the sudden once-over? The once-over? What gave you that idea? Never mind my ideas, Doc. I'm wondering about yours. But, listen... You suddenly got a bright idea, didn't you, Doc? You saw the light, huh? Maybe you can see this, too, this gun. Now, wait a second. Okay, Doc, just pull over to the side of the road. Come on, Doc, be smart. Pull over. Oh, no. No, I'm not going to pull over. I'm going faster. I'm going faster.

It's 55 now, 60. You can't shoot me, Elkins, not now. Not before I keep it going this fast. You got this figured all wrong, Doc. I can let you have it, after all. What have I got to lose? If I get caught, it's the chair. If we go off the road, so I get killed, so what? But you, you get killed too, Doc. And you've got a lot to lose. Now look, I'm gonna count to five, Doc. If you don't stop by then, I'm gonna give it to you. One. Listen, Doc, stop the car now and you'll be okay.

Two, maybe I'll take your car, but what have I got to gain by killing you? Three, Doc, three. I'm not stopping. Out here in the country, you'll be stranded for the night, but I don't have to shoot you, Doc. I'll get my head start. Four, I said four, Doc. Getting kind of close. How do I know you won't shoot me? It's your only chance. If you don't stop now, I'm surely going to let you have it. The other way, you got a chance. That's better, Doc. Now you're playing it smart.

Okay, Doc, get out, but don't try anything. Now, look, Elkins, you have nothing to gain by... I know, Doc, I said that myself. Now start walking into those woods. But... Don't argue with me. Get going. You've still got a chance, Doc. Just trust your luck. It's been pretty good so far. Got you to be a sawbones, got you a girl. This'll do, Doc. Stop here. Now we can't be seen from the road. Elkins, I was only trying to be a decent guy, giving you a ride... Sure, Doc, you're a good guy.

You're a big guy, too. Just about my size. Take off your coat, Doc. We're gonna change clothes. Sure. Sure. Come on. Your shirt, too. Here's my coat. Give me the shirt. All right. Silk shirt, huh? Nice. The pants. Come on. Hurry. Hurry. All right. All right. It's fine. It's fine. Don't bother to put my stuff on. You won't catch cold. You don't have to be modest because... Oh. Oh.

Little daughters. Pretty enough. Too soon to close in the car. What a break. Well, now to get going. Spark plugs must be wet. Come on, baby. Start. Stop. Ain't somebody coming? Motorcycle cop.

All right, you. What's the idea? What's the matter? Your taillight's out. Want somebody to come along and smash into you? Gosh, it was on last time I noticed. Headlights are okay. Let me start my motor, see if that makes any difference. All right. Maybe one on then. Just a second. I'll have a look. No, switch on your brights. See if it works that way. Okay, just a second. I need a copper just a second while I shift into reverse like this. Dumb copper.

What's that? A roadblock. I'd have known they wouldn't waste any time. Hey, you want to get killed? Didn't you see this roadblock? I know. Sorry, officer. The fog, you know. Well, let's see your license. Jameson, you come on to the other side. Okay, Red. What's the matter, officer? Something wrong? Yeah, plenty. Some guy escaped from the state prison. Now, let's see your license. My license? You got one, ain't you? Yeah.

Yeah. Yeah, it's right here in my wallet someplace. Yeah, here it is. Let's see now. Six feet two, 190, brown hair. Bennett? Dr. Richard Bennett? Huh? Oh, so you're the new Doc Hummels of Somerset. I...

Yeah, yeah, that's right. Yeah, I heard old Doc Milburn's been expecting you. Doc Milburn's expecting me? The whole town's expecting me. Excuse us for stopping you like this, Doc. Yes, sir. This is a heck of a reception. Practically being me mistook for an escaped convict. Well, um...

Look, Red, I got an idea. Why don't we greet Doc Bennett here in style? You're going off duty in a few minutes anyway. Give him a motorcycle escort to Marsha's place. That's a swell idea. Wait a minute. We'll take no for an answer. No, sir. Boy, would I like to see Marsha's face when you pull up with that siren going. Right now, look, fellas, I appreciate all this, but... Skip it, Doc. I'm already on the motorcycle. Come on. Let's go.

All right, Doc. My relief shows up in time. I'll bring up the rear. Yeah. Here we are, Doc. Here's the house. Well, thanks a lot, officer. See you later. Sure, sure. But let me get Marcia first. No, no. That's all right. You just run along. I don't mind at all. Hey, Marcia. Marcia. Hello, Redd.

Something wrong? Wrong? Everything's fine. Look who I got with me. Who? Him. Don't you know him? Good riddance. I never saw that man before in my life. Hey, what goes...

Look, you, didn't you say you was Dr. Richard Bennett? Why, yes, yes. Dr. Richard Bennett. Oh, Dick, can you ever forgive me? Say, what is this? I thought you'd recognize me at first sight, Marshal, after all our letters. Oh, Dick, do come in, please. Don't stand out here. Yeah, look, Marshal, where is he going? Oh, it's all right, Red, and thanks for showing him the way. You see, Red, we'd never really met. Well, anyway, it's all right. Oh, my God.

Leave it to a woman to foul things up, eh, Doc? Had me thinking you were that escaped convict or something for a minute. Oh, Rand. Well, be seeing ya. Goodbye, Rand. Well, Dick. Yeah? Do come in, please. Oh, I'm so glad you're here. Don't stand out there. Come on. You know, we'd just about given you up. It's so late, and Dad and I thought that with the fog and all over the road, well... Look, I'll call Dad. You know...

I hoped you'd look like this, but I never saw it. But I would have known you. I think I'd have known you too, Dick, if you'd given me one second more. Tall, serious looking, but you didn't write me that you were wounded. Wounded? Well, that scar on your cheek. Oh, that. Well, I... Who's that? Just came in my... Dad, he's here. Who? Rick...

Dr. Bennett. Dr. Bennett. Well, well, at last. Hello, Dick. Don't mind my calling you that, though we've never met. Good to see you, Dr. Milburn. You must be tired and hungry. Well, I am a little. Of course you are.

I'll show you up to your room and Marsha, warm up something for Dick. All right, Dad. Hurry, or I'll tell Dick all about Scotty, the motorcycle cop you used to keep company with. Oh, Dad. Until your male romance started, of course. Well, we can all have a nice long chat. You two can talk about those soulful letters, but...

Save me a moment with him, Marcia, to discuss his new patient. All right, Dad. And I'd like him to see some x-ray plates I've just developed. They're right this way, Dick. Okay. Over here.

Here they are, Dick. X-ray shots. Get to know your future patients inside out. Yeah. Um, I know it's late, but here's one I'd like your diagnosis on. My diagnosis? We'll see if it checks with mine. Here, take it. Now hold it up to the light. Now, what do you make of it? What do I make of it? Well, uh...

I'd say... I'd say... What? Dick? Huh? You will have your little joke, eh? What do you mean? Oh, you know well enough what I mean. You're holding that X-ray upside down.

Boy, I'm hungry. Never been hungrier in my life. Do you want any more, Dick? No, no, you just take it easy. Dick, you seem so jumpy. Is there anything wrong? Wrong? No, I'm just tired. Well, you know how it is, coming into a strange town, taking over a new practice, patients I don't even know. Got me sort of phased. But that's what I always like about you, your attitude. Attitude? When things go wrong.

Out of the night that covers me, black as the pit from pole to pole. You finish it, Dick. Finish it? I'd like to hear you say it. Say what? The rest of the poem. Poem? I don't know it. Stop kidding, Dick. It's Invictus. Yeah? Well, I still don't know it. Well, that's strange. Why? Some people like one poem, others, well, they don't. What's strange? Because that was your favorite poem, Dick.

You quoted it to me in one of your letters. Remember? How are you feeling now, Dick? Uh, oh, okay, I guess. Well, better get a good night's rest. Then you can start right in tomorrow.

Tomorrow? You mean start treating patients tomorrow? Oh, yes. The sooner you take over, the better. Oh, but I'm all fagged out, Doc. I need a rest. Oh, by tomorrow, you'll be as fresh as days. No, no. Look, I need a couple of days. That's all. A couple of days, and then I'll be all set. Well, Dick... Let me get accustomed to things, and then... I'll see who it is, Dad. Excuse me, Dick. Is your dad in, Marsha? Yes, Red. Oh, good Lord, what's happened? There's been an accident. What? What's happened?

Why, it's Scotty. Yep. He must have got run over. They found him lying on the road near his motorcycle. Unconscious. Dad, come here quick. What's happening? It's Scotty. He was run over. Oh, great heavens. Bring him into my office. Easy now. Easy. All right, Doc. Take it easy. Yeah. Put him down there. Here? Yeah, on the couch. Okay. Scotty. Scotty.

Oh, Scotty. Looks like hit and run, Doc. I'm going down to headquarters and report it. Yes, Red, you do that. Call me at headquarters when you're finished. Marsha, the scissors. Here, Dad. Cut away his uniform. Scotty? Scotty, this is Marsha. Listen, Scotty. What happened? No nasal or oral hemorrhage. Good. Some guy car parked outside of the road. Easy now. I want to listen to your heart. How is he, Father?

He'll be all right. Oh, thank goodness. Multiple contusions and abrasions. Will you have to move him to the hospital, Dad? Not now. First aid right now. He ran over me on purpose. Went to kill me. What? I think it was escape killer...

Curly Elkins. Curly Elkins. Did you get a good look at him? Scotty, describe him and we'll notify headquarters. Well, his height was about... Dr. Milburn, I'll take over this patient. Oh, Dick. But, Dr. Bennett, I don't... I thought you wanted to wait a few days. I know, but you were right. I've got to begin sometime and may as well be now. That voice. What is it, Scotty? That voice just now... Lost consciousness again.

What did he say? I don't know. Something about a voice. Just leave him to me. I'll handle it. Well, let me explain the case. I know. It's an accident case.

How did you know? What? I'm a mind reader. Pretty obvious, isn't it? Well, my diagnosis... I'll make my own diagnosis. All right, but I'll just stay around and help. No, no help. What? No one's going to help me when you're gone, so I want to handle my very first case in this town alone. Very well. But, Dick, can't I? I always help Father in cases like... No, no, Marsha. You go, too. Now, don't worry. I know he means a lot to you both. Rest easy. I'll take good care of him.

Very good care of him. All right. Let's go, Marshal. How do you feel, Scotty? Who are you? Don't you know? Honest? How did you get run over? Did you get a good look at the driver? No. You sure? I want to see old Doc Milburn. Why? What do you want to tell him?

You sure you can't identify that driver? No. I don't believe you. You're lying. You said that voice. What voice? What did you mean? I want to talk to Marsha and the doc. Let me see him. I'm taking care of you, Scotty. I'm going to fix you up good right now. Scalpel ought to do the trick. Take it easy, Scotty. Lie still. Just a little insurance, see? To make sure you'll be all right. I wish he'd hurry with Scotty. Dad...

There's something funny about him, isn't there? You think so, too? Yes, I do. I recited a poem to him, one he had sent me, and, well, he didn't remember it. Oh, that's nothing to condemn a man for, but I don't know. Maybe we'd better check up while he's busy with Scotty. Yes, I can call his club in Los Angeles. Get a description of him. Maybe you'd better. All right. Hello? Hello?

Hello, operator? Operator? Put down that phone. I said put down that phone. That's better. We don't want the police now, do we? What have you done to Scotty? Get a box for him after I'm gone. Dr. Bennett!

You're not Dr. Bennett. That's right. My name is Elkins, Curly Elkins. Dr. Bennett is lying out in the woods with a bullet in his head. I got a bullet for each of you, too, if you make one false move. You're not going to get away with this, Elkins. Dad, don't. Why, you old... Dad. That was dumb of you, Doc. Never rush a guy with a gun. Now, listen to me, both of you. In case the cops return to check on Scotty's condition, you won't let them in the door. Scotty was fixed up, see, and went away for a rest.

If either of you say one word out of turn, you're going to get it. What do you want from us? Why don't you leave? I'm staying right here, sister. Right in this house until the heat's off. Remember this. I just as soon kill you as look at you. I'm staying put. You're going to cover for me. Because if you don't, if you or your old man try anything, you'll give me away. It's curtains for both of you. How does that sound? Convincing? Well, well, well. That wasn't such a bad night, now, was it?

Cozy, just the three of us. A lot better than the pen, huh? You can't keep this up forever, Elkins. Someone's sure to find out. And then... Then it's flowers for you. Yeah, and for your Marsha, too. Get up, Doc. I don't like to see you always laying around, see? Can't get up. You hurt his back when you hit him with your gun. But we'll get even with you, Elkins. You can't keep us prisoners forever.

One of us will find a way. You can't always stay up chain-smoking. You've got to go to sleep sometime. Yeah, sure I do, sis. But what I do, I'll take your old man into the room with me and tie him up. Then I'll lock the door and sleep with a gun under my pillow. If anyone tries to get into that room... You've got it all figured out, haven't you, Elkin? But what are you going to do in a couple of hours when my patients come in? I thought of that too, Doc.

You'll tell them all you got kind of crippled falling down the stairs, see, and you'll send them away. But you won't let out one peep because all the time I'll be upstairs with Marsha. She'll stay alive as long as you play ball, Doc. That's just how long. No more. What's taking her so long? Hurry up with that coffee. It's not boiled yet, Elkins. What's taking her so long? You growing it? Gotta have a swallow of java, you hear? Marsha's bringing it.

What's the matter? Why so jumpy? Why your eyes so bloodshot? Shut up. Look at your hands, trembling. What is it? Conscience? I doubt it. Shut up, Doc. Clam up, you hear? Nerves? What are you afraid of? You've got the gun in your hand. Clam up, I say, or I'll... Let's see who's jumpy. As soon as I've had my coffee, just wait. Gonna be glad to get rid of me, eh, Doc?

Half an hour, it'll be dark, and I'm scramming out of here. You feel good about that, eh, Sawbones? I can't say I'll be sorry. You hear that, Marsha? He thinks I'm going off and leave you two here to blow the whistle on me. He thinks I'm fool enough to do that. What's he take me for, a dope? Elkins, no. Good heavens, man, surely you won't.

Elkins, do anything you want to me, but Marsha... She's deaf and dumb. She can't talk to the cops. I promise we won't breathe a word. Not a word. I beg you. Ask me, Doc. Ask me right. Who knows? Come on with that job. Coming. You like it hot, don't you? Give it here. Yeah, maybe I will, maybe I won't, Doc. Maybe I'll kiss you both goodbye. Or maybe two bullets will do it. Can't be sure, Kendall.

Gives you kind of a funny feeling, huh? Drink your coffee. Who's nervous now, huh? Don't know if you're alive or dead in a few minutes from now. Ain't that something? Drink your coffee, Elkins. Why? Why what? Why are you so anxious for me to drink this cup of coffee? You wanted it, didn't you?

Is it good? I hope so. You hope so, huh? You hope maybe a few drops of poison will do the trick and get rid of me, huh? What are you talking about? You wouldn't try a little thing like that now, would you, to save your own neck? Here, you drink it. Me? Yeah, you drink it. Drink it, I say. Take a few swallows. Very well. Why not? For the silly things. Give it here. There. Are you satisfied now? Okay. Wasn't taking any chance. Give me that coffee now. Dad? Dad?

Dad? Hmm? BCD. BCD. C2SO4. Quick. What's all that? What was that double talk? Double talk, Elkins? Come on, spill it. What was it all about? Where'd she run off to? She's gone to the next room. To the dispensary. What for? To get a drink. Drink? Of what? Of a certain liquid. What liquid?

What for? What is this? Tell me, you scheming old devil, or I'll kill you right now. What did she ask you? What did you answer? My daughter just asked me the antidote for poison. I gave it to her. Antidote?

Poison! That was poison coffee you both just drank, Elkins. It will take exactly 60 seconds to kill you. 60 seconds? Now! Now! Marsha! Marsha! Yes, Elkins?

May I help you? Do you want something in this laboratory? Antidote, a swallow. Oh, yes, I took some myself. I'm quite well now, thank you. Give it to me. Where is it? Now, isn't it a pity I forget? Where is it? A bottle. All these bottles. Which one? Which... Doc, doc, tell me. Tell me which one. My inside's burning. Which one? C2SO4. What's that? The antidote.

See what? What the fool names on the bottle. What's it mean? What's the name? You're a doctor, huh? Doc, doc. Surely you weren't merely posing. Give me a break. Any doctor would know, Dr. Bennett. Get it for me. My heart's scared. I'd be glad to, Dr. Bennett. You had crippled me. But I can't move. I must lie on this couch perhaps for life.

Or else I'd get the bottle for you and save you. I'll kill you. No, Dr. Bennett. There is no antidote to death.

And so the curtain falls on Prescription for Murder, which was chosen by guest expert Bruno Fisher, whose latest thriller, The Restless Hands, will soon be published. Next week at this time, Murder by Experts brings you the story of an invisible menace which terrorizes a whole city. Selected for your approval by the noted mystery writer, Mr. Lawrence Blockman.

Until then, this is your host, John Dixon Carr, hoping you'll be with us again next week at this time. Prescription for Murder was written by Joseph Ruskell and Paul Monash. In the cast were Kenny Lynch, Kathy McGregor, Roger DeCoven, Bernie Grant, and Jack Curtis. Music is under the direction of Emerson Buckley, composed by Richard DuPage.

Murder by Experts is produced and directed by Robert A. Arthur and David Kogan. All characters in our story were fictitious. Any resemblance to the names of actual persons was purely coincidental. This is Phil Tonkin speaking. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System. Why?

Now, step into the incredible, amazing future as we go Exploring Tomorrow. And now, here is your guide to these adventures of the mind, John Campbell, Jr.,

Last night as I was going up the stair, I met a little man who wasn't there. He wasn't there again today. My gosh, I wish he'd go away. I'm with Gillette Burgess, who penned those immortal lines. How do you get rid of the little man who isn't there in the first place? Well, Peter Manson was a physicist, a scientist.

And his trouble started with a little man who wasn't there. Submatrix X integrated to pi over 2 plus... May I come in, Mr. Manson? Why, of course, thank you. Are you alone? Yes. Well, then she hasn't arrived yet. I wasn't expecting any... Oh, I am, but if she isn't here yet, I'll have some time to explain. Who is here? Well, one thing at a time, sir. Now, first, have you ever considered the problem of time travel?

Time travel? Well, that's impossible. Oh, now don't say impossible because you invented it. I've done nothing of the sort. History says you did. What history? History says that you invented time travel machinery and applied for a United States patent on June 16, 1964. What history? That's six years from now. Ah, but not from my point of view. You see, I've used one of your own time machines to come back from your future, 50 years through my past to this date you're present. Do you understand?

You claim you have traveled 50 years through time? I am here. That's proof. I don't believe a word of it. Well, look them over. This is your own personal notebook, 50 years later than it is now. Actually, that's the same one that's on your desk right now. Now, this is a copy of your patent. Now, these documents say I'm right. I say so.

You see, in my day, you are the wealthy and famous Peter Manson. Well, do you want my autograph? You may be right, but I'm not wealthy yet. Oh, I'm not after anything. I'm here to help you. I don't need any help.

Do you know the first thing about your future? Of course not. Well, I do. I know just about everything that you're going to do in the next 50 years. Prove it. What am I going to do next? You are about to be introduced to the woman who will become your wife. I already know her. We're engaged. Oh, you mean Laura Phillips. Well, no doubt she's a nice enough girl, but she's not for you. You'll break that engagement shortly. I'll do no such thing. Indri says you did. Not will do. Did. But you... Yes. Yes, Laura. Yes.

No, Laura, I'm not... But Laura... Tell her now and get it over with. You shut up. No, Laura, I didn't mean you. No. No, Laura, she's not here. She hung up. Oh, I wouldn't listen to you, huh? And that's your fiancée. She wouldn't do that if I... Is there... Is there... Oh, Miss Carter, now we've been expecting you. Please come in. All right, but just for a minute. Now, Harry, you wait by the door, but...

Stay close. Now, Miss Amelia Carter, may I present... Get that dame out of here. Dame? Please, now this is hardly a way to start a lifetime. Lifetime? Yes, history says so. Fifty years and still going when I left. Now stop this hostility.

You might as well save time, too, now. Now start off with the first names. Amelia, this is Peter. Peter, be nice to Amelia. You really should be gracious, generous, anxious to create a good first impression. Don't tell me how to behave. Why, don't you blow a fuse, Grandpa? Grandpa! I am Peter Emil Manson III, your grandson. A note that

The middle name is the masculine form of Amelia, your wife, my grandmother. Grandmother? Yes, indeed. Your son is my father. But I'm not married yet. Oh, but you will be. Now, Grandpa, you sit here. Cut this grandpa stuff right now. Well, I'm sorry, but I've been taught that it's impolite to call my grandparents by their given names. Of course, you don't look much like the old duffer that I know as Grandpa. Oh, Grandpa. Now, come on down and you start making like romance.

You know, you're not even engaged to Grandma yet. Don't call me Grandma! Pardon me, it is impertinent, but you are quite a dish. Now that I've seen you in your youth, I can understand why Grandpa threw over this Laura Phillips girl. I can hardly believe that you'll become that sweet little old lady. Mr. Manson, what's he talking about? He's a time traveler from the future who says he can prove that we met, got married, and... Now, Doc, only further. I'm afraid he's right. He says it's history, and we can't change history. But I hardly know.

Oh, if you'd known each other, I wouldn't have to introduce you, would I? Maybe somebody had better explain this to me. Ah, fine. Now we're off to a start. Hi, Bo, Grandma. Yeah, I think I need one. Now a little more romantic setting. Soft lights now. And now I'll leave you two to canoodle a bit. I've other things... But, Harry... I'll take care of Harry. That'll be Laura. Run high. Do something. Relax, Grandpa. I'll take care of everything. Oh.

Of course, Peter Manson wasn't the only one having trouble with the little man who wasn't there. No, the future cannot be handled logically. It's logically impossible because it doesn't exist yet. And if it doesn't exist, then obviously it isn't logical. But it's going to exist, so... Well, you see what I mean. Logic is just hopeless. Oh.

I should ought to clobber you. Oh, now, be reasonable, Harry. It wouldn't prove anything. But Amelia's my girl. Get over it, Harry. They're probably arranging their engagement right now. You meddler. I am not a meddler, Laura. I'm just an instrument of fate. Fate? Poor Peter's thrown to that blonde lion. Oh, you stop calling my girl names, you hear? You're acting like a pair of spoiled children. Now, stop it.

I regret that you've lost your love, but really no one ever actually died of unrequited love. Mine wasn't unrequited. Well, it might as well be once they're happily married. Happily married? Well, you wouldn't want them unhappy, would you? No, I'd like a little happiness myself. Well, so would we all, but stop and think. Now, if the number of human lives depended upon your giving up a love affair, would you go on selfishly and marry the man anyway? Well, that's hardly fair. Well, then I'll put it up to Harry. Harry, if your own life depended upon preventing a wrong marriage, would you stand by and let them go ahead? Make your own point, you're the meddler. All right, all right.

All right. My life depends upon it. My father's life depends upon it. Unless Peter Manson and Amelia Carter marry, neither my father nor I can be born. Now, knowing this, I used my grandfather's time machine, came back to give a formal introduction. Now, you can't blame me for wanting to live, so I came back and I fixed it up. Yes, you're a great little fixer-upper, Mr. Manson.

Maybe we should ought to fix you up and then go on as we please about it. You don't know much about time and history, do you? No, but I could make up a... You could not. You could not change a thing. Why not? If your father and mother had never met, could you have been born... Oh, don't be utterly ridiculous. Now, don't ever be scornful of stating a simple fact. I exist, therefore I am. Now, say it as you please.

To you, Peter and Amelia will marry. To me, Peter and Amelia married 50 years ago. Now, the sensible thing to do is to accept the fact. Wipe it off the slate. Pick up the pieces and go on from there. Such as? Well, now, you're both very attractive people. You have a common bond of memory. Give me my time. Well, I looked at better myself. Oh, he's gagged. This is a primitive error. Tell folks what's best for them and they want to... What is the term, Harry? Clobber you. Yes, that's right. Clobber me.

That's the best idea I've heard all night. No, not here. Outside, where I can stop being a lady. Then I'll help you. Well, you can beat me up, but you can't change something that's already happened. Now, can you? Look, I've taken all I can. I'm going home. Okay, can I take it? That is a fine practical arrangement. Find sympathy in one another. It's the better thing to do. And maybe you'll find happiness with one another.

Can't we get out of this, Miss? Well, if I cut my throat, I can't invent the time machine. And then he couldn't come back and mess up our lives by forcing me to marry you. Ah, you'd rather commit suicide than marry me. Oh, now, Amelia, stop it. That's not so. Oh, so you'd rather marry me than commit suicide. Oh, stop the bawling and let me think.

Peter, do you think he'd go away if we made it look like everything was running smooth? What do you mean? Well, suppose we stopped squabbling and complaining and made up to one another so he'd think we were happy and convinced that he's right. Maybe he'd be satisfied and go back where he came from. Then we could do as we please. Not work. Why not?

That character is our grandson, Amelia. Already he knows what we're going to do. Well, I'm not even willing to try. I'll try, but it's futile. What did you have in mind? Well, I just know he's coming back tonight. We could make it look as if we...

I've been getting acquainted. Well, what have we been doing for the past couple of hours playing tiddly... Hey, hey, hey, hey, let go of my neck. You're just mucking me up a little. I'm really getting acquainted. You're not looking as if we've been sitting with folded hands. Hey, stop that. Well, if you really love me, you wouldn't mind my mucking up your hairdo then. All right. There. Now you look like we've been wrestling. Where's my bag? What for? Lipstick.

You should have a few smears. With you looking like a magazine cover, lipstick is a two-way smear, right? Oh, yeah. I suppose so. You sounded as though Harry was the only man you ever kissed. If we ever get around to it, Peter Manson, you'll be the only man that's ever been kissed just because history said he had to be. So there? Try God, I can't? All right. Once for history. Hmm. Let's see you now.

You need more of a spread. Hmm. Hmm, that's right there. Hold still a minute. There's one thing history didn't mention. What, Peter? History didn't say this could be fun. Peter, it'd be funny, wouldn't it? What could be funny? Hmm. Hmm.

Just take a look. And then? And then we found out, after he'd gone, that we really did like it. Yeah. Yeah, wouldn't it? Peter? Yes?

Let's go. Yeah, so let him wait. Now remember to look trusted. And try to watch your face, too. Well, I see everything's progressing fine. All right, now, now, now, go away. Oh, I'm not going to stay. I just wanted to see how things were getting along. I know what I'm not wanting. Then why did you come here in the first place? Well, you think you hate me for my interference, but you wait and remember. In 50 years, a pair of you will be sending me off in my time machine to do this job of fixing up.

And you, Grandma... Stop calling me Grandma! You're still my Grandma, and you won't tell me that you and Grandpa actually wasted your first kisses trying to fool me into leaving. So now I'll trot along, but I'll be back tomorrow. And don't you keep her out too late, Grandpa. What'd you do with Harry? Oh, I fixed that up fine. Harry volunteered to escort Grandpa's former girlfriend to her home. Harry and Laura? Laura with Harry! Peter? Yes, Amelia. To heck with history. Kiss me once...

Oh, for goodness sake, it's three o'clock. I know what time it is. But what I want to know is what you're doing. I'm trying to think. Yes, you look as if you've got it all settled. What can I do? You might wash that blonde hussy's magenta lipstick off your silly face. Now, Laura, Laura, I can explain. I'm listening. Convince me that you got all smeared up without enjoying it.

Come on, come on. You went home with Harry to be trusted, didn't you? I didn't see anyone around making me another offer. But I will. I know. Working like a little beaver makes a history come out right. Well, what am I supposed to do? Bang my head against brick walls, tilt at windmills?

Confounded? Am I the only one around here with sense enough to know what I'm licked? Well, you might not be so completely licked if Amelia Carter was ugly as much sense. Well, it does make my defeat less difficult to bear. Well, make it complete, then. Have this expanded to fit her pudgy little hand.

My ring? But, Laura... Goodbye, Peter. Please, please, don't go. What's to say for it to be a maid of honor? If you came to quarrel with me, you yourself are doing everything to prove Junior's point. If you were here, he'd be cheering you into hating me and using my telephone for calling Harry to take you home. Look, I didn't come here to fight with you, Peter. I came here to fight for you.

But you're not fighting. Junior knows all the moves. No matter what I try, everything turns out his way. It's like your experimental smooching session. Yeah, that too. He was amused. I'm not. It may have started as a deliberate frame-up, but it certainly ended up ginger pizza for his little old program. I tell you, he knows every move. He came back here just to tell Amelia and me that you had gone home with Harry.

Fifty years from now, you and Amelia will daughter over to his time machine and kiss your breath of a grandson goodbye as he goes off to make the introduction. That's the program, isn't it? What can we do? Peter, you say everything's fixed and solid. It can't be changed. That's the way it is. But let's just suppose that you could quietly unfix Junior's little apple cart. Well, then we'd go on as if he never arrived. Well, couldn't you?

I can't prevent what's already happened. He exists. He is. He's here in the flesh. Oh, I suppose you can't change that, can you? No. Well, then, goodbye, Peter. Wait a minute, Laura. What if Junior were a different kind of guy? What do you mean? Look, Laura, he's the grandson of Amelia and me, right? Mm-hmm. If I don't marry Amelia, he doesn't get born.

He can't exist unless we follow every move right down to the last letter of the historic record he talks about, right? Yes. But let's assume that the future is not a firm and solid hunk of recorded history. Well, everyone but you and Junior have been saying that all along, but you keep pointing at Junior's history book and saying no. But suppose that Junior's history book is only one of many possible histories. Then how do you explain his solid existence? Floating a brick on water is not impossible.

It's just extremely unlikely. Oh, stop sounding like a mathematics professor, Peter. Get to this important point. Until Junior arrived with his books and his papers to show me, uh, us, how we were going to act, he was rather unlikely as a future probability. But once he convinces us and introduces me to Amelia...

Junior's existence becomes a very strong probability. In other words, he exists because he did the fixing that put history on the road that leads directly to him. Well, you could rob a bank and get tossed in jail and that would stop you from marrying anybody. Well, we can't change things that drastically. But we might slip a little change in Junior's character. How

How can we do that? Suppose we could create another very strong future probability. Mightn't he come back and fight just as strong for his own existence? But how can you do anything like that? Laura...

Would you marry me right here and now? Peter, at three o'clock in the morning? Peter, it's Junior again. Don't go, don't go. Oh, no, no, no. Well, good morning. I'm in time, I see. You come in. I was hoping you would arrive. I am the Reverend Peter Laurel Manson III. You'll notice that my middle name is the masculine form of the given name of my grandmother, Laura.

Peter, here is the other probability. Precisely. Let's get along with it quickly before something else happens. Oh, now, please, we must not be impatient. There must be witnesses. But I have prepared for everything. Everything. Will you permit me? Do come in. Oh, this is the most auspicious occasion. And me!

Yes. And Harry, what are they doing here? Well, people here appear to have forgotten that a man has four grandparents. Well, I'm still a bit confused. Oh, my dear, if I had not been prepared for this rare and happy occasion, I should be quite disturbed. It isn't often that a man has the opportunity of officiating at a double wedding ceremony uniting his grandparents. Can you make this...

Yes, yes. Now, unless I double-cross this double ceremony. Now, Peter, take Laura's hand and stand way over here on my left. Now we all sorted out properly. Fine. History says that Peter and Laura will have a stalwart son. Harry and Amelia will have a fine daughter. Son and daughter are my own parents. Are you sure? I arrived a bit late, my dear, because I have been quite a busy man. I made a stopover on my trip through time, pausing long enough to unite and marriage your son with their daughter. It was a lovely wedding.

Ah, yes. As time goes by, a woman needs man and man must have his mate.

That doesn't mean you've got to be stuck with any particular mate. There's freedom of choice there. See, the only way you can get rid of the little man who isn't there is to have a different little man not there. That takes care of it. This is Ken Nordain. I come to you from out of darkness into a single point of light.

From out of the darkness that walks to this turn of midnight and enters the long, lonely road to dawn. From this deep darkness, the mind accepts a single point of concentration. The senses are sharpened to it. All else is blacked out. And from any floating form or shifting shapes,

The midnight mind will see faces in the window. Listen. Listen to the storm. Never, never since time's beginning can so much fury have been poured out of the brooding heavens on a single night as there was that night. And I was alone, alone on earth, I thought.

standing on my heartstone among the Greylock Hills. And the Earth alone in the universe, the scattered bolts boomed overhead and crashed down among the valleys. Every bolt followed by crackling zigzag fires, swift slants of sharp rage, which haughtily rang the charge of spear points on my low, smooth roof.

The mountains have a way of breaking and churning the thunder, so that it is far more glorious than a storm on the plain. No, it was no mere rain that sky that night. It was a dark and vast inverted sea with monstrous waves of thunderous earth crashing over and across the mountains. Then, then there was a knocking at the door.

Not the clear ring of the knocker, but a doleful undertaker's clatter of a fist against the hollow panel. I admitted the stranger. Come in, sir. Come in quickly. A fine thunderstorm. Stranger pushed the door shut behind him. Off he went, sir. Come here, stand here before the heart, before the fire. Not for anything, he glared.

The stranger still stood in the exact middle of the cottage where he had first planted himself. Now, there was nothing ordinary about this man's appearance. A lean, gloomy figure, hair dark and blank, magically streaked over his brow. His sunken pitfalls of eyes were ringed by dark blue halos. He shone with an innocuous sort of lighting, the gleam without the bolt.

The whole man was gripping. He stood in a puddle on the bare oak floor. And in his head, resting vertically at his side, was the strangest walking stick I had ever seen. It was a polished copper rod, four feet long, which was joined to a wooden staff by blue balls of greenish glass, ringed with copper bands.

The metal rod flared out as a crop like a pitchfork. And the three keys shining strong. He held the thing by the wooden part alone. Now, I hardly meant to be little, but his strange appearance, out of nowhere in the middle of this chaos, struck me half-humorously. Sir, I said, bowing politely, have I the honor of a visit from that illustrious god Jupiter? For he stood like you, in that Greek statue of old, grasping the lightning bolt,

Now, if you be he for his messenger, I have to thank you for this noble storm you have brewed among our mountains. Listen to the glorious clap of the thunder. To a lover of the majestic, it is a good thing to have the thunder himself in one's cottage. The thunder goes by for that. But please be seated. This old rush-bottomed armchair is the poorest substitute you can see for your evergreen throne on Olympus. But first,

Please, condescend to be seated. But the stranger was not amused. He eyed me, half in wonder and half in a strange sort of horror. He didn't move a foot. I placed the chair invitingly on the broad hearth, where a little fire had been kindled that afternoon to dissipate the dampness. Come, come, sir, be seated. You need to get dry before going out again.

The dark stranger ignored me. He's still standing in the middle of the floor, said Sombra Lee. Instead of my accepting your invitation to be seated on the heart there, I solemnly warn you, sir, that you had best accept mine. You stand with me in the middle of the room. A wild surge of thunder smashed against the side of the mountain. The stranger's eyes quivered.

I warn you, sir, get off that heartbeat, eh? I regret a growing nervousness quietly shifted my weight on the stone. Stand very well where I am, Mr. Jupiter. Are you so horribly ignorant, he cries, as not to know that by far the most dangerous part of a house during such a terrific tempest as this is, is the fireplace?

"No, I didn't know that," I said, and then I found I was stepping to the first board next to the stone. And the stranger, seeing my foot move in response to his grim warning, twisted his thin lips into a slight, smug smile. I quickly stepped back on the heart and threw myself into the proudest posture I could command and gaze steadily at him. But I said nothing.

For heaven's sake, he cried. A strange mixture of alarm and intimidation. Get off that horse! Don't you know that the stupid air of the footer comes after him? The name of those of him, Fire Dog. Leave that spot, I won't. I command you. I was angry with myself at the effect this man would have. I am not accustomed to be commanded in my own house, Mr. Jupiter.

Call me not by that taken name. You are profane in this time of terror. I have had just about enough. Sir, will you be good enough to tell me your business? If you seek shelter from the storm, you're welcome, as long as you remain civil. But if you come on business, get on with it. Now, who are you? I am a dealer in lightning rod. It's a strange and soft business. My special business is...

Your special business. You were about to speak of it.

Special business. It's to travel the country for orders for life and fraud. This is my special car. It's a big captain's castle from the floor. I'm the best representative. In Criggin last month, I put up 23 rods on only five buildings. He was a salesman beyond all determined salesmen. I had to pierce his armor somewhere. Let me see him.

Was it not at Criggan last week, about midnight on Saturday, that the people of the Big Elm and the Assembly Room Cupola were struck in plenty of your rods there? Not on the trees, the cupola, but the people. Then of what use is your rod? Of life and death use, sir.

My workmen were careless. In fitting the rod to the top of the steeple, we allowed a part of the metal to touch the thin sheeting. Therefore the accident, not my fault, but his. Also in his gawd, she excites and trembles. Out there, heaven and earth, and listen! The monster is out there. That quack was quite loud enough to be heard without pointing fingers. Did you hear the event of Montreal last year?

A servant girl struck at her by sight with the rosary in her hand, the beads being metal. Now, does your territory extend into Canada, sir? No, I hear that there only iron rods are in use. They should have mines, which are copper.

Iron is easily fused. Then they draw out the rod so blender that it doesn't have enough body to conduct all the full electric current. The metal melts. The building is destroyed. But my copper rod never acts like this. Mine is the only true rod. The sky's depth charge fears only my work. Look at it. Only one dollar a foot.

He stood like Jupiter himself, in the middle of the universe, holding his lightning rod aloft like a terrible bolt about to be slung from the end ring. And I could only find presence to say that this disparaging attitude toward others in his own calling only made disgust for him. And in the next instant, a thunder bomb burst from Rocky's cloak and sent him bounding to the window.

leaned forward intently with his right fore and middle fingers on his wrist. Now he talked more to himself than to me. That crash! Only three pulses. Less than a third of a mile off, somewhere in that wood, a past tree stricken oak there ripped out in glittering. The oak draws lightning more than other timber, having iron in solution with the fat. The weird salesman turned and stared at me with a smirk of triumph.

Your floor seems to be open. I shifted uneasily from the stairs. Heart of oak, I replied. From the peculiar time of your call, I suppose you purposely select stormy weather for your journey. When the thunder is roaring, your earth seems to spread in two with a crash like the collision of a hundred trains, and be jerked half around with a kind of insane, smirvish pleasure.

Only one dollar a foot.

Madman, get me back to him. And I couldn't shake him. I walked abruptly back toward the shutters. The rain is coming through, I said. I will bar the window. My arm, you mad. Are you aware that that iron bar is a swift conductor? Stop! All right, all right, I shot. I will simply close the shutters then and call my boy to bring a wooden bar. Please, if you will, ring that bell.

Ah, that bell wire might blast you. Never touch bell wire. Nor ring the bell of any sword. Then will you tell us where and how one may be safe at a time like this. Is there any part of my house I may touch with hope for my life? There is. But not where you stand now. Come away from the wall.

The current will sometimes run down a wall, and a man being a better conductor than a wall, it would leave the wall and run through him. Then tell me, Mr. Lightning Rod Man, which, in your opinion, is the safest part of this house? There's one spot in it where I stand. Come here. Two reasons first. Listen. After the blast, the gut, the stash, the shiver, the house, the house. Come here. Come here to me. Listen.

The reason, if you please. Come here to me. Thank you again. I think I will try my old place by the heart. And now, Mr. Lightning Rod Man, be so good as to tell me your reason for thinking that this one room of the house is your own one standpoint. There's a safer spot in it. Now, there was now a little cessation of the storm, at least for a while. The Lightning Rod Man replied in a quieter tone.

Your house is a one-storied house with an attic and a cellar. It's room is between. Therefore, it's comparative safety because lightning sometimes passes from the clouds to the earth and sometimes from the earth to the clouds. Can you comprehend?

And I choose the middle of the room because if the lightning should strike, if the lightning should strike this house at all, it would come down the chimney or wall. So obviously, the farther you are from them, the better. So come here to me now. Presently, perhaps, I say. But something you said, instead of alarming me, is strangely inspired confidence. You said that sometimes lightning flashes from Earth...

To the clouds. Yes, the returning stroke, as it is called. When the earth, being overcharged with the fluid, angrily hurls its surplus upward. I nodded at this strange information. The returning stroke. That is from earth to sky. Better and better. But come here on the heart and dry yourself. I am better here, he said shortly, and better wet.

He answered, it is the safest thing you can do to get yourself thoroughly drenched in a thunderstorm. Wet clothes are better conductors than the body. So if the lightning strike, it might pass down the wet clothes without touching the body. Listen, the storm deepens again. He spoke of that strange, eager, restless mountain. Have you a rug in the house? Rugs are non-conducted. Get one quickly, so I may stand on it here, if you do.

The sky is black and listen! Closer and closer! Get the rug! The rug! I think it was fly, I will never know. Meanwhile, the hooded mountains outside seemed to close in and tumble over the cottage. I resumed my place on the hearth. And now, he says, sir, let me hear your precautions in traveling during thunderstorms.

I travel on foot, he went on. I do not walk fast.

If on horseback I dismount and lead the horse, but of all things I avoid tall men. Yes, indeed was I heard. Man avoids man, and in a time of danger, tall men must underscore my specialness. Are you so grossly ignorant as not to know that the height of a six-footer is sufficient to discharge an electric cloud upon him?

A lonely Kentuckian's plowing struck dead in the unfinished furrow. By its footer stands by running water. The crowd will sometimes select him as its conductor to that running water. Listen! Listen! The top of a black mountain is split apart. Yes, it's a good conductor. The lightning goes through and through a man, but only peels a tree. Now the dark stranger in the middle of the room stiffens and burns before my eyes.

Concerned, Ruston. You've been so long answering your questions that I have not come to business yet. Will you order one of my rods? Look at this, specimen one. See, it is of the best of copper. Copper is the best conductor. Your house is low. Being upon the mountain, that lowness doesn't matter. You mountaineers are most exposed. Bye. Bye, sir. Bye. Bye.

In mountainous countries, the lightning rod man should have most business. Look at this, sir. Look. One rod will answer for a house as small as this. One rod, sir. Only $20. Listen again. All the granite giants dashed together like pebbles. Now he turned and he seemed to curl before me like a strong wire. He grasped his lightning rod till his knuckles showed white.

An elevation of five feet above the house, sir, will perhaps twenty feet radius all about the rod. Only twenty dollars, sir. A dollar a foot. Listen, the earth is heaving. Will you order? Will you buy? Shall I put down your name? Think of being a heap of charred flesh, like a hoffered horse burnt in his stall, and all in one flash. The End

And then with a tearing burning, my fear seemed to leap out of me like a lightning bolt. And I found myself laughing, laughing wildly. You, pretended messenger, ministered under the tension of your thing, Jupiter. Why, you mere man who came here to put you and your pipe stemmed between clay and sky.

Do you think that because you strike a bit of green light from a lightened jar that you can clearly avoid the heavens' bolts? Your rod ruts, it breaks. Where are you? Who has empowered you to peddle your indulgences from divine order? The hairs of our heads are numbered from the days of our lives. In thunder as in sunshine I stand at ease in the hands of my God.

Get out of here, you sham! The scroll of the storm is already rolled back. The house is unharmed. In the blue heavens I lead in the rainbow. But the deity will not assert it. Make fight or war. Stranger foams, blackening in the face as the rainbow beams through the shutters.

You miserable wretch. I'll publish your infantile notions. The scowl grew blacker on his face. The deep blue circles enlarged around his eyes and the storm rings around the midnight moon. He sprang at me. His play-forn thing aimed at my heart. I sneezed.

I whirled him round with my arms closed over his throat. He struggled violently across the room and clashed together against the wall. The door flew open as he stumbled out. With a supreme effort, I dragged his dark lightning king to his feet and flung him violently from me with the points of the lightning rod buried deep in his chest over his heart.

And where a second before there had been a rainbow and a blue sky, now the heavens boiled into an angry darkness. The lightning rod crackled, and at the point where it entered his chest, it burned with a searing white hot light that almost blinded me. The lean stranger didn't utter a sound as he became at once a living lightning bolt of burning light. The hot flame went down through him like a shade being drawn from his window and he slipped on the ground.

along the ground to the base of the Glendale tree, with a sound like the scream of a jacket. A long jacket racing both past out of the earth, ripping upward through the trees, and burning it apart and flashed on until it hurled itself at the dark, angry ocean of clouds, and then burned out. When my eyes could see again, I saw, I swear to you, I saw there in the distance...

The dark form of the tall lightning rod man walking down the mountain path with the lightning rod in his hand. And I know that the lightning rod man still dwells in the land, still travels in storm time, and drives a brave trade with the fears of man. The mind at midnight is lonely, and the senses are sharp.

And so from out of darkness of shape and form, where a single light is focused, the sharp and lonely midnight mind will see faces in the window.

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I'm Darren Marlar. Thanks for joining me for tonight's Retro Radio, old-time radio in the dark. Career changers, including veterans and active duty service members. Your transition starts here. Go from GI to IT in a matter of months. Become a certified cyber warrior with training at My Computer Career. Cyber security specialists are in high demand, offering IT pros great opportunities and a rewarding lifestyle while protecting our people,

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