TIME AND TIME AGAIN: Would You Stop A War From Happening If It Was Already Part of History?
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The Black Museum. Affiliated stations present Escape. Dinner Sanctum. The Seal. 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.

If you're new here, welcome to the show. While you're listening, be sure to check out WeirdDarkness.com for merchandise, sign up for our free newsletter, connect with us on social media, listen to free audiobooks that I've narrated. Plus, you can visit the Hope in the Darkness page if you're struggling with depression, dark thoughts, or addiction. You can find all of that and more at WeirdDarkness.com.

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, emissary from a world you never made.

We are commanded to forgive our enemies, but nowhere are we told to forgive our friends. Is this why an old philosopher advises, treat your friend as if he will one day become your enemy, and your enemy as if he will one day be your friend?

As you can see, the whole business is not only thoroughly mixed up, but it also rests on a foundation of shifting sands. And why not?

Isn't that the story of our lives? I need that man. He is one judge who can't be had, Joseph. Every man has his price. Not Judge Ben Talbot. He never took a bribe in his life. He has to be bought. There is no way out of it. But I tell you, Joseph, nobody's ever been able to buy him. All you're saying is that nobody has ever been able to figure out how.

But you better find a way. How? I don't know, Ashworth. That's your problem. No!

Our mystery drama, The Safe Judge, was written especially for the Mystery Theater by Sam Dan and stars Robert Dryden and Patsy Bruder. It is sponsored in part by Allied Van Lines and all state insurance companies. I'll be back shortly with Act One. Act One

Hope makes a good breakfast, but a bad supper. Probably because hope is like the morning glory which blooms in the rosy brightness of the dawn and wilts and fades in the pitiless heat of the sun. Well, we could continue in this vein, but surely you get the point.

For a specific example of hope, consider the magnificently appointed sports car moving along the turnpike just this side of the speed limit. Why? Because the sleekly handsome young man behind the wheel fervently hopes he will not be stopped, but his hopes are about to be dashed. Pull over, punk! Pull over!

All right, out of the car. Keep your hands where I can see them. What did I do? Look, I wasn't doing 155. Let's see your license. No, no, no. Take it out of the wallet. That's it. Well, I wasn't breaking the law.

Joseph Mangle Jr. You wouldn't be Big Joe Mangle's kid, would you? Yeah, that's me. Oh, I didn't know I had myself a celebrity here. Okay, copper, now that you know the score, I'll be on my way. That so? Well, give me

You mean you want to tangle with my old man? Don't tangle with Mangold. That's the word, huh? You bet your sweet life, copper. So before you get into trouble... Turn around. Now face the hood of your car. Hey, hey, wait a minute. Lean forward. Place your hands on the hood. Hey, what is this? You're being frisked. That's what this is. Yeah, well, you're asking for more trouble than you can handle, copper. Well, well.

What do we got here? Oh, wait a minute. Listen. This cellophane envelope filled with this nice sparkling white powder. You must have a couple of pounds of it. Well, it's saccharine. I'm bringing it to a friend of mine who's on a diet. No kidding. What's the truth? Well,

Well, if it's the truth, you shouldn't mind if we have it analyzed at the lab. Oh, listen, officer. Hey, listen. I've just been promoted from copper to officer. You can't arrest me. Why not? Because I'm Joe Mangold's kid. You'd be crazy to do it. I know. Don't tangle with Mangold. Hey, wait. You can't put those handcuffs on me. I just did tonight. Listen, officer. Let's...

Let's talk sense, huh? Oh, ho, ho, ho. Here it comes, the old briberoo. Yeah, sure, that's it. That's what you were after all the time. Okay. I got 2,000 bucks on me. I'll give it to you. That's another charge, attempting to bribe an officer. Give me a break, will you? Scum like you, you push this poison, you destroy people's lives. I got a better idea. Take this stuff. It's never been cut. It's pure. Why, you... You know,

You know how much this is worth on the street? 75,000! I'm gonna knock every one of your teeth out. 100 grand! Oh, no. No, I better not mush you up. Garbage like you has to be treated with kid gloves. You can be rich. Get in the car. What do you want to arrest me for? What's in it for you? What are you sweating about, punk?

With your old man's connections, you'll probably get off with a slap on the wrist. I ain't scared of the law. I'm scared of the old man. I'm doing this freelance. Don't you see? You don't know. That's why you can't take me in. Can I? Watch me. Give me a break. If the old man finds out, he'll kill me. No!

What do you want from me, Marie? I got him out on bail, didn't I? A hundred grand. So you got him out on bail. He's your own son, your own flesh and blood. He's a bum. Don't say that. Ain't it true?

I sent him to college. He still talks like a bum. I never got past the fourth grade and he don't talk no better than I do. You can't let him go to jail. They caught him. He had the heroin on him. He was framed. Sure. He was framed. The cop who stopped him. They call him Mad Dog Harlow. I want that cop destroyed. I know that cop. Everybody knows that cop. That cop is the biggest hero in town. Anything happens to him and the paper... I don't care.

I want you to prove Joey was framed. Oh, come on, Marie. Who'd buy such a story? It has to be a frame-up. Okay, okay, all right. Let me tell you what we can reasonably expect. I can pull wires for the DA to go easy. That's not good enough. Nobody beats a drug rap if they find the stuff on him. I tell you, he was framed. So we arranged for a judge to give him an indeterminate sentence.

That means he can be out in six months. That's not good enough. It's the best I can do.

I told him to keep his hands clean, but he's a bum. Yeah, and where did he learn how to be a bum? Marie, you gotta accept the facts of life. His name is Joe Mangle Jr. He gets caught with the drugs, he's gotta go to jail. There's a limit to what even I can do. Whatever he is, that's how you raised him. He's gonna have a clean record. No convictions. You owe him that. That punk? I don't owe him nothing. Well, you owe me that.

I don't care how much it costs. I don't care who you have to buy. But you're gonna get him off.

Nancy? Oh, Daddy, I didn't hear you come in. What is that? What do you think? It sounds like some poor cat being tortured. This is the most beautiful music, Daddy. It is? Your ears are culturally attuned to a clearly stated theme and definite variations, whereas... Do you mind shutting it off?

Barbarian. No, I'm just an old classicist. But this is the oldest classical music in the world. There was a visiting lecturer at the college. He had these tapes of Chinese Shang Dynasty ritual dances. I see a classmate of yours has been arrested. Who? Joseph Mangle, Jr. Classmate? I don't think he's been to anthropology twice the whole semester.

Do you know him? Oh, just by sight. What did he do? He was caught in possession of a few pounds of heroin. Do you think he's guilty? Well, dear, that's why he would be given a trial. Oh, Daddy. Must you always talk like a judge? But I am a judge.

How else am I supposed to talk? Joe Mangle Jr., his father's the biggest racketeer in the country. Well, as to that, my dear, there is no solid evidence... But everybody knows it. The same way everybody knows Joe Mangle Jr. is guilty of pushing drugs. How does everybody know that? Because... he's the type...

And with that simple statement, my dear, you have just annihilated the Constitution of the United States and everything it's supposed to stand for. Joseph, I consented to this meeting because I was told it was extremely urgent. Back off, Ashworth. You consented to this meeting because I asked you to come here. And it's politically dangerous for me to be seen with you.

What's it about? My boy. Yes, I read about it. I'm sorry. He's a fine lad. He's a punk, and you and I know it. I'm sure something can be done. What? Handled properly, he could get three to five and be out in, say, 18 months. That's not good enough. I disagree. If he were Joe Nobody Jr., he'd get 20 years without any chance of parole. I want him acquitted. Acquitted? Yes.

You heard me, Ashwood. Well, that's impossible. Everything's impossible till you figure out how to do it.

And then you don't have a problem. Joseph, this is really impossible. Twenty years ago, you wanted to run for office. The machines said no. I said yes. Everybody said impossible. Look where you are today. That was different. Today, you and me, we are the machine. I want Joey off. And I want you to stop saying impossible. I don't see how it can be done.

Let me give you a scenario. It was figured out by Harry Anderson. He's gonna be Joey's lawyer. He's clever enough, but he's no magician. We got a cop by the name of James J. Harlow. Better known as Mad Dog. He's a mad dog because he don't listen to reason. No way you can buy him off or head him off. He goes by the book. Which makes everything tougher for Joey since Harlow is the arresting officer. Okay.

Harlow has had it in for me personally for years. This goes way back. I was a punk. He arrested me for breaking and entering. Some friends of mine got me off, so he's been making remarks ever since. Huh? What kind of remarks? How I own the judges, the DA, the government.

The bigger I got, the crazier he got. He's a very popular cop. But he's an unbalanced cop, you see. He's been so eager to hang something on me that he stops my son. Why? The kid wasn't speeding. Arnold don't even claim that. So, why did he stop Joey? Ask yourself. Why?

What else? It comes down to stop and frisk, which is legal in this state. Only if the officer can show reasonable cause. Now, why does Harlow stop Joey? Because, yeah, the kid don't have any record. He got no reason to suspect the kid's into anything. He stops him only to harass him because he's my kid.

Hmm? Possible. And because he's out to get me, he plants the stuff and he brings the kid in for possession. Oh, Joe, no, no, no. It won't wash. No jury will acquit Joey. That's true. Anderson says the same.

It don't matter what kind of a story we tell. That jury is gonna hang Joey. It's true. They'll take one look at Harlow's honest face. He looks like Abe Lincoln without the beard, and that's the case. The idea is, Ashworth, it mustn't go to the jury.

How do you stop it from going to the jury? After Anderson presents his evidence, he's going to ask the judge for a dismissal of the charge. Oh. Well, how can you be sure the judge will play along? You mean...

You can't make sure a judge is in this town? Well, of course, but up to a point. This is a drug rap. It's enough to make any jurist run scared. That's why we need a safe judge, an absolutely safe judge. Joseph, you know as well as I do, given this kind of case, where can we find one? That's your problem, Ashworth. Your problem. Your problem.

Let's see, it was Will Rogers who said, politics is applesauce. One thing for sure, it's not an occupation for green apples. What we've been overhearing these past few minutes are a couple of smart apples working on a proposed turnover of justice. Well, the plot thickens, or we should say ripens, when I return with Act Two in just a few moments. ♪♪

© BF-WATCH TV 2021

Keep your powder dry has always been sage advice. However, young Joseph Mangle Jr. would have been better off had he not been caught carrying a certain type of powder in the first place. Young Joseph is out on bail. Meanwhile, many wheels are turning and spinning and grinding. And right now, a certain number is about to come up. Daddy? Hmm? Oh.

Oh, see here, young lady, don't you know you're not allowed to enter a judge's private chambers without knocking? I thought I'd come downtown and take you to lunch. Why aren't you in school? Well, I... Daddy, I... Dolly, something's wrong? I don't know how to say this, Daddy. I just don't know what it means. Come on, sit down and tell me.

I heard it on the radio. What did you hear on the radio? I was listening to the news and I... I heard that you're not going to run for re-election. Daddy, you didn't tell me. Of course I'm going to run again. But according to the broadcast, they said that you decided to retire.

Well, how could they say that? I have no intention of retiring. Someone must have gotten things turned and twisted. Daddy, call Uncle Ed. Why? So you can get to the bottom of this. The bottom of what? I... I have this feeling that something is wrong.

Oh, you just have the most active imagination. Daddy, call Uncle Ed. But it's silly. You can't pay attention to every unfounded bit of rumor and gossip. It'll make me feel better. Oh, all right. It'll make you feel better, too. I'm calling him on his direct private line.

Hello? Hello there, Senator Ashworth. What are you doing at home? Protecting my absentee record. Ben, how are you? First rate, Ed. Uh, Ed, there was a strange bit of news on the air about me. Oh? Was there? It seems I've decided to retire. Who told that to whom and on whose authority? Uh, Ben, it's a complicated story.

Oh? Oh, well, yes, of course. I'm glad to hear it's a completely unfounded rumor. And it's more than just a rumor. It's, um... Unfortunately, it's a fact. I, um... I was about to call you. Dinner tonight? Wait a second. And...

Nancy, dear, you do have classes this evening, don't you? Yes, Daddy. The traditional designs of medieval heraldry. Yes, Ed, I'm free for dinner. But, Ben, I have a preview. No, no, Ben, really, I'm free. Nothing complicated. I'll meet you at Frascati. But, Ben... At seven. Sure thing. Bye, Ed. Absolutely nothing to it, Nancy.

You sure? Poor Uncle Ed. He was so embarrassed, he insisted on taking me to dinner. And, uh, how's Nancy? Nancy's just fine. Has she found herself yet? I mean, what is it this month? Poet? Musician? Ballet dancer? Ed. I'm her godfather, and I take my responsibilities seriously. Ed. Ed.

Who's out to get me? And why are you holding still for it? Nobody's out to get you, Ben. It's just there's a general movement all through the party to present a new and youthful image in our candidates. Oh, that's nonsense, and you know it. Age and experience are what people look for in a judge. Are you going to tell me the story or not? There is no story.

This is the way the decision was made. And after 30 years, I'm out. Ben, I fought for you. Yes, my record. I have the highest rating. Ben, I couldn't save you. But what am I going to do? I can't start all over again as a lawyer. I know it's tough. You know I never took a nickel. And the fact is, I don't have a nickel.

Martha's illness took everything I saved. And now there's Nancy's education. Now...

No, I'm not going to hold still for it. I'll call a press conference. I'll say I'm being denied the nomination. And what good will that do? You'll create a three-day sensation and you'll have made yourself a lot of enemies in the party. I don't seem to have too many friends there now. They leaked the retirement story so you could get out gracefully. Get out gracefully? To go where? Do what? You'll never have to worry.

We'll find a job for you. But not a judge's job. Now, you know the game we're in. Okay, Ed. I'll let you off the hook. Good night. Now, Ben. Ben, don't run off now. We'll have another cup of coffee. We'll talk, all right? About what? Friendship? Gratitude? The just rewards of 30 years of honest service? No!

Hello? I see by the papers the case is coming up before Judge Talbot. Yes, Joseph, that's how it worked out. Is he safe? I think so. Ben Talbot never took a nickel in his life and he won't start now. But if the guy can't be bribed, how can you make sure he's safe? I didn't say he couldn't be bribed. I'm only saying he won't take money.

How do you figure to convince him to see Raisin? I'm letting him convince himself. You mean as Talbot's been assigned a case and we don't have an understanding with him? We'll have one, Joseph. We better. But my wife, Marie, don't leave me live. You think you're sitting pretty in Washington, but leave me tell you, you ain't that big. I can't knock you down. And if you do, I can drag you with me. Ashworth.

Are you sure you can make this Judge Talbot safe? I can promise you. Junior's as good as acquitted. Ben, I know it's very late. What do you want, Ed? May I come in, please? What do you want, Ed? I, uh, I see you've been assigned to the Mangle case.

I'm surprised they picked me. Are you? I was sure the old man could have pulled strings to have it held before one of his friends. Oh, no, no, no. It was due for your calendar, and that's where it went. Well, given one thing or another, it'll probably run past election day, so I'll go out in a blaze of glory. My last case. You still haven't answered my question.

What do you want? I, uh... I haven't slept in a week. Neither have I. What kept you awake? Ben, I told certain people to... to go jump in the lake. Yes? Because I felt that's what you would have told them. That is, had they asked you. Had they asked me what? Exactly six days ago, these people and who they are as immaterial at this point asked me to make you an offer...

To do what? They asked me because you and I are so close. Get to the offer, Ed. I knew it was something completely alien to your nature, and so I said, gentlemen, forget it. Well, that must have been some offer. It was. But I realize now I really don't have the right to answer for you. Whatever it is, you are the one who has to refuse it or accept it.

I assume it's a deal? Of course. I've never made a deal in 30 years. I know that. Now that I'm at the end of my career, this is no time to start. That's right, Ben. Except this deal would mean it's not the end of your career as a judge.

Oh? Yes. That story about your retiring. Well, there'd be a statement in no uncertain terms to the media that there was a misunderstanding. That the party is proud to have you as our nominee because you've been a beacon light in the halls of justice. And so forth. And your re-election would be assured as usual. Provided? Yes. The deal. The Mangle case. What am I supposed to do? Throw it out of court.

For the boy was caught red-handed. Ah, well, aren't you prejudging the case? Oh, excuse me. The defense will contend the boy was illegally stopped and searched, that the arresting officer has a history of vindictiveness toward the family, and finally that the officer planted the drugs on the boy. I see. Well, if the defense is so positive, why even talk deal with me?

Any judge would throw it out. You never know once the trial starts. So we need a safe judge. We? You're part of it, Ed. It affects the party. The answer is no. Well, I knew that. But I felt I had to present it. So that's why there was that rumor of retirement to soften me up. You're the only judge up for re-election.

I'll tell you what I find particularly offensive, Ed. The fact that it deals with drugs. These people are the scum of the earth. No, he's just a boy. This, to me, is the most vicious of all crimes. I'm not saying I can't be bought. That would be presumptuous. But in a drug situation, never. That depraved, but... Why, he even goes to Nancy's school. No, no, no. That's my answer. No. No.

I respect you for it, Ben. No, you don't. You think I'm a fool. Well, thanks for presenting me with the deal. But my answer has to be no. Well, right now, there isn't any answer. Oh, yes, there is. You're going to preside at the trial. Hear the evidence, and who knows? When the defense attorney asks for dismissal of the charges, you may think quite sincerely on the basis of the facts.

That he's right. In return for which, I get the renomination. And my judicial career will bloom brighter than ever. Coincidence. Coincidence. Isn't that the way life is, Ben? Good night, Ed. Let's have lunch one day this week. Let's not.

There was nothing personal in this, Ben. Get out. Good night, Ben. Daddy. What? Oh, Daddy. Oh, Nancy. I thought you were asleep, Nancy. I was. I heard talking in here and it woke me.

It was Uncle Ed, wasn't it? Uh, yes, yes. He just came over for a chat and a nightcap. No, he didn't, Daddy. I heard every word. Nancy. I am so proud of you, Daddy. I can't tell you how much. I don't really know what I'm going to do after November. Daddy, don't worry. Being a judge, that's the only trade I know.

But if you were to do what Senator Ashworth proposes, then you really wouldn't be a judge anymore. Even if you got promoted all the way up to the Supreme Court. There you are. You just placed everything in perspective for me. ♪♪

Mrs. Mangle, this is an unexpected pleasure. Unexpected, yes. A pleasure? No. What can I do for you? I just hope you've already done it.

Now, Joey goes to trial tomorrow. I don't know this Judge Talbot. I'm sure that everything will work out. You're sure? Well, that's not good enough. Well, life, my dear Mrs. Mangle, can never be 100%. Well, it had better be. Joey gets off clean. Oh, there's trouble. Now, Mrs. Mangle, I... Don't Mrs. Mangle me, Senator. Believe me, if it doesn't work out, I'll start telling everything I know, and I know everything.

And a lot of people, some of whom are in very high places, are going to wind up in jail. No, I'm fighting here for my kid. I fully understand your position, Mrs. Mangle. And nobody had better try to shut me up the hard way either. Because what I've got is written. And it's in a safe place. Please, Mrs. Mangle, you're becoming unduly overwrought. Yes or no? Has Judge Talbot been made safe? The answer, Mrs. Mangle, is yes.

Definitely. Certainly. Unequivocally. Yes. How does he know? That's not what we heard from Ben Talbot himself. The answer must be that Senator Ashworth knows something we don't know. Or is he whistling in the dark?

Say what you like about Senator Ashworth, you must admit the man lives dangerously. Hopefully, everyone in this perilous situation will survive into Act Three, which I will bring you in just a few moments. In this world, so many fritter away their lives in frustration and boredom. So many work at meaningless routines.

They are truly fortunate who take joy in their labor, who find in each day's work a challenge and an adventure. Such a man is Judge Ben Talbot. To him, the bench is his whole life. He savors every moment. The law has been a holy temple, and he a devoted priest. And now he will be driven from that temple unless he chooses to defile it.

And either choice is absolutely intolerable. Daddy, you haven't eaten a thing. The trial starts today? Ah, yes, dear. You throw the book at that Joe Mangle Jr.?

Now, darling, a man is innocent until he's proven guilty. Everybody knows he's a young punk. He's not being tried for that. How can anybody doubt his guilt? He must receive a fair trial. Absolutely. You give him a fair trial and then send him to jail. Oh, Nancy. For life.

You've got to do it. You have no other choice. But, my dear, I haven't heard the evidence yet. They forced you to do it. When they offered you that deal, that was proof that he's guilty. I mustn't even discuss this case. I never want to see Senator Ashworth again. But, darling, he's your godfather. Is there some way we can repeal that?

Now, look, if you don't run along, you'll be late for classes. How did you survive all these years in politics? A man like you who's honest and incorruptible. Darling, don't get the wrong idea about politics. There are a great many honest people in it, and I think most are. It's just that here and there, now and then, someone steps in and says, look, here's how things can be if...

Well, it only happened to me once. And if that vicious animal, that Joe Mangle Jr., hadn't been caught with drugs, it might never have happened to you at all. I hate him. It's time for you to go to school and for me to go to work. Hello, Ben. Ben?

What are you doing here? Well, this is my club, too. What do you want? You never return my calls. I'm too busy. How's the trial coming? I'm sure you're keeping up with it. Ben, I want to apologize.

For what? For my part in the sandbagging of Ben Talbot. Okay. I accept your apology. Why don't we say goodnight? I never realized it, I suppose, but I... I do have a conscience. That's your problem. What I did to you was inexcusable. All of this is obvious. It doesn't need to be said. Well, I don't think I realized how much the bench meant to you until we... until we had that talk.

I didn't realize it was your whole life. That if you couldn't be a judge, you'd have no place to go. And that your life, for all practical purposes, would come to an end. I didn't realize that. Oh, yes, you did. Ben, believe me. And your purpose in cornering me here tonight is to make sure that I realize it.

You're scared, aren't you? No, Ben. You promised Big Joe that I'd be a safe judge. Your career is riding on it, too. That's funny. I can destroy both of us. Ben, I'm telling the truth. I'm sorry for what I did. You have to believe that. Is that the truth? Or is the truth...

You've come here to tighten the screws, if you can. There. We'll never know. And I'll tell you something else we'll never know. If it should so happen that I decide to dismiss when his lawyer asks for it, we'll never know. Did I do it because of the evidence or because I want to keep my job?

I'll never know that. Now, look, Ben, I mean sincerely. And that's why I can never forgive you. You robbed me of the most precious thing I ever had. The knowledge that I was judging without an ulterior motive. I don't know what I'm going to do. The evidence washes over me like ocean waves and it dries off like water in the sun. None of it stays with me.

If I dismiss, am I doing it because I'm afraid? And if I refuse to dismiss, am I doing it because I'm vindictive? Regardless of the decision, now I feel I've lost control. What reason did you have for stopping young Joe's car? I looked suspicious. Why?

Well, when you're a cop, you develop a kind of instinct for a suspicious character. And you claim you didn't stop young Mr. Mangle just to harass him. Well, look, he had the stuff on him, didn't he? Your name? Keene. Daisy Keene. You have a criminal record, Miss Keene? Yeah, I guess so. What have you done?

Well, I've been busted now and again for pushing. Nothing big, you understand, just little stuff. Were you ever arrested by Officer Harlow? Yeah, I was. That's a lie! I'll rephrase that, Miss Keene. Were you ever stopped by Officer Harlow? Yeah, I was carrying heroin, a couple of bags, good stuff. He didn't book me.

He just took the stuff and told me to beat it. Well, that's a lie. Your Honor, what is the case the prosecution has presented? The single witness is an officer whose hostility to the defendant and the defendant's family is, to say the least, notorious. And may even be an indication of a serious imbalance. He had no legal reason to stop the defendant.

And as to the question, where could he have secured so much heroin to plant on the defendant, it has been testified that he could have built up a supply over a period of time. In view of all these regularities, I hereby move for a dismissal of all charges. I'll take your motion under advisement, Mr. Anderson. This court will stand adjourned until 9 o'clock tomorrow morning.

Daddy, I brought you some coffee. Oh, thank you, Nancy. The cell's down. Are you writing your decision? Yes. I'll bet you're really going to blister that Mr. Anderson. Oh, I hate him. He's so smug.

And isn't that officer Harlow Magnificent? Oh, if there were just more cops like him. Darling, you must let me get back to work. I mean, especially on campus. You've no idea what goes on. They sell that filthy stuff as openly as if it were ice cream. Darling, it's getting late. Of course, you're going to deny the motion. Dear, I'm going over the transcript.

That creep was caught cold. Put him in... Oh, there must be the proper legal... Daddy, do you mean that there's a chance that you'll let him get off? Oh, no, no, never. I will do whatever is indicated by the evidence. This is a most difficult decision to make, but that is the purpose of justice.

It is obvious that the prosecution has not been able to present the basic facts that are necessary in a trial of this nature. Additionally, there are many irregularities and illegal procedures, all of which I've already noted. The court, therefore, has no choice but to dismiss all charges. Going out again tonight, dear? Yeah.

Yes? Well, don't you have exams tomorrow? I suppose so. Nancy, sit down. Let's talk. About what? You know about what. Ever since the trial... But I don't want to talk about the trial. Well, we'd better, because that's what's been bothering you. What is there to say? You decided on the basis of the evidence, didn't you? You don't believe that. Why shouldn't I believe it? I can tell by the way you're acting toward me.

You believe that I took a bribe? Didn't you? No. Good night, Daddy. Now, wait. The evidence could have supported either decision. And you chose the one that could do the most for you. Oh. I'm sorry. I don't know what made me do that. Well, I do.

Nancy, please, try to understand. I have to go. I have a date. You read the paper, the Chronicle. The editorial supported my decision. I understand that Big Joe Mangle has money in that paper. The Chronicle is one of the most respected newspapers in the world...

Nobody could buy their editorial decisions. Just like nobody could buy your judicial decisions. According to the evidence, Nancy, Joe Mangold Jr. was innocent. Well, I say he's guilty. Guilty of pushing drugs. But the state couldn't prove it. Well, I can prove it. What are you talking about? I may even prove it tonight. The End

Hey, good-looking. What's your name? What's it to you? Well, there's a law about gorgeous chicks like you sitting around just pulping. Oh, why don't you move along? You know who I am? I couldn't care less. Joe Mangle Jr. My old man runs this town. Don't tangle with Mangle? Senior. However, you can tangle with Mangle Jr. I'll listen to you.

You got the blues? Take off, will you, please? Listen, I'm a swell guy when you get to know me.

And I got just the cure for the blase. I don't drink. Who's talking about drinking? I got something for you, baby. It's like flying. What have you got for me that'll make me feel like flying? Honey, let's go outside. And we'll fly together.

I'm not too sure I know the end of the story. I'd like to be able to say she tried it once just to prove something to her father, but I'm not sure that's the way she did it. Or did she do it to confirm for her father that Joe Mangle Jr. was guilty?

As we say in a court of law, deponent knoweth not. But I know I'll be back in just a few moments. Once you get past the idea that money is the least of all bribes, then just about everything becomes possible. And just about everybody has his price.

and, of course, her price. And sometimes a bribe can be offered in such a way that it doesn't appear to be a payoff at all, but only a natural event. If only things were more simple and direct in life. Our cast included Patsy Bruder, Robert Dryden, Bryna Rayburn, Earl Hammond, and William Redfield. The entire production was under the direction of Hyman Brown.

And now, a preview of our next tale. I'm willing to bet that in Grandma's copy, the erect figure of the woman is bent over and leaning on a cane. Do I sound crazy? I can't believe it, Rick. How can we believe that my mother has discovered some power to... Oh, no, it doesn't make sense. Oh.

Have you known about this for some time? Only since I saw Grandma's needlepoint with a tree gone from it, and that was just at the time the tree was blown down. I saw her tonight, and the dog was gone, and now Chin Chin is dead. This is beyond sense. Dad, I wouldn't tell Elsa... No, I suppose not. I think if she can move...

She'd want to kill my mother. I almost feel that way myself. Radio Mystery Theater was sponsored in part by Sinoff, the Sinus Medicines, and Buick Motor Division. This is E.G. Marshall inviting you to return to our mystery theater for another adventure in the macabre. Until next time, pleasant dreams. Ah!

The End

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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

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.

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.

Monsters, myths, mysteries, mirth, and more every Monday with Mind of Marler. I like alliteration, can you tell? You can find a list of where you can subscribe to the podcast at weirddarkness.com under the menu tab for podcasts. ♪♪ Box 13, with the star of Paramount Pictures, Alan Ladd as Dan Holliday. ♪♪

Fox 13, care of Star Time. I'm a betting agent in my state where betting agents are legal. I'm one of the many who are being taken for plenty. I think there's something haywire, but none of us have been able to figure it out. Now, since you'd be a stranger here, we figure you'd have a better than even chance of nosing around and finding out how we're getting clipped. If you do, we'll pay. If you don't, maybe you'll have yourself an adventure anyway. My name is Bert Hendricks. Look me up at 6729 Sierra Way.

Enclosed is enough money to take care of immediate expenses. Have a look, huh? Yeah, I had a look all right. Right into the muzzle of a nasty .25 automatic. ♪♪ Now back to Box 13 and Dan Holiday's newest adventure, Much Too Lucky. ♪♪

Are you going to be gone long, Mr. Holliday? Well, I don't know, Susie. That all depends. On what? On what happens. Oh, what could happen? Well, I'm concerned anything. Oh, yeah. Sometimes I get worried about you, Mr. Holliday. Sometimes? Most times. It's just like a nomination. Oh? What am I running for? Nothing. I just had a premonition. What's that? What you didn't have.

I don't get it. Well, you work on it until I get back, Susie. I'm off to the races. The plane trip was quick and pleasant.

And eight hours after I said goodbye to Susie, I was talking with Bert Hendricks, a big, nice-looking fellow, but with a worried look on his face. After we had introduced ourselves, Hendricks let me know what was putting the wrinkles between his eyes. Oh, it's got us roped and tied like a Christmas package, Dan. How much are you losing? Plenty.

Runs into four or five figures every week. Maybe somebody's being lucky. To be that lucky, a guy had to be born with a silver horseshoe in his mouth. Look, yesterday I paid off on a long shot at 40 to 1. The clip ran to the tune of 20,000. And that, as they say in books, is sugar with a cap to less. It'd buy a lot of coffee. Anyway, we figure we're getting it the wrong way. Clip, bam.

Bamboozled. Well, why don't you go to the police? With what? Troubles? That's not the answer. Have you tried to find out? Are you kidding? We ran ourselves into a ladder trying to catch the angle. No dice. No.

Dan, somebody in this town's plenty smart. Smart enough to know our boys. And that brings me in. That's right. You're a stranger. They won't take a second look at you. I caught you red in the start times and played the bet. Well, here you are. With nothing to do. How much do you want? Well, believe it or not, Bert, I do this for nothing. Yeah, I heard you say that before, but I don't get your dodge. My what? Your gimmage. Dodge, racket, angle. Oh. Oh.

Well, I figure if the plot's good enough, I can use it in the story. Okay, but no dough? I'll tell you what, Bert. If I figure this, will you turn over what you'd give me to any charity I name? Here. Here's a blank check. Fill in the amount, I'll sign it. But try to catch the capers that are putting the shellac on us. With nothing to start on, I've got a job. They're smart. Plenty smart. What they win is over and beyond the run of luck or chance. Any ideas? Yeah. One. What's that?

They got a guy with a crystal ball. Is that the best you can do? Come out in the wire room with me. See if we can catch anything. Up front? Uh-huh. This way.

And we're getting ready now for the third race of the day. We've got a radio back here, broadcasting direct from the track. Comes over local station. Oh, and where are the bets placed? Right here, or by phone. I see. And you take bets up until the time the horses are at the post. That's right. Once the race starts, no more bets. Listen to the race. Now he's in place. We're ready. They're off.

Hiya, Bert. Hi, Billy. How's it going? Somebody called up and got a century on party line. Oh, the 20 to 1 shot? That's right. Oh, Billy, this is a friend of mine, Dan Holliday. Hiya. Hello, Billy. Party line wins, Bert. It's the fourth long shot this week that's played off. Yeah, yeah, I know. And each one was bet on. Is that it? But heavy. I still say there's one of them guys that's doing it by telepathy. Listen. At the half

It's mine. Owned by Apple, I can't leave a rocket is third and falling back with old Joe as party line still swings wide and moves up on the outside coming

for the turn now with Minone by a head over cantilever and moving up fast on the outside is Party Line in third. There he comes. Who made that bet on Party Line? Mike took the call. Okay. Get me to the name of the guy who made the bet. Sure. Right away. Listen to that. It's Minone and Party Line. It's Minone by a half over Party Line and it's a driving finish with Minone in front by a nose. Party Line getting up the whip and moving up, up and across the finish is Party Line by a head over Minone.

Oh, 20 to 1. Uh-huh, and $100 is a 20 to 1. Don't say it. Don't say it. Come on. Let's go back to my office. Oh, Dan, I don't get it. How can they pick long shots like that? Is it only long shots? No. No, not always. Sometimes it's the favorite, but it's always a winner. And I say no guy can pick a winner every race, especially every long shot. Come in. Come in.

Want to know who placed that hundred on party line, Bert? Yeah. Here's the tab. Oh, her again. She's awful lucky. Yeah, too lucky. Who is it? Name's Vaughn. Terry Vaughn. Singer at one of the clubs here. She's done this before, huh? Yeah, she's done it before. Twenty grand today, five last week. Why doesn't she retire and leave here? She can't.

Look, Dan, we've got this betting narrowed down to about 20 people. 20? Yep. The most consistent winners. They never lose. Oh, a ring, is that it? That's right. But not one of them is ever at the track. You mean they just don't go? That's right, never. I don't get it. Neither do we. Oh, Billy. Yeah? This call from Terry Vaughn came in just before the horses were at the post, huh? Sure. We take bets up to the break.

What are you thinking about, Dan? I was just wondering if there was any way of getting advance information on a race. You're kidding. Not a chance. This is a business with us. Legitimate. On the level. We know every angle in Dodge. There's no way anyone could know before the race that a long shot like Party Line was going to nose across first. Well, you've got yourself a problem. All right. How about taking a slice of it, Dan? What I said about that blank check still goes. Hmm.

Okay, you've got yourself a boy. Good. I don't know where I'll start, but as they say in books, everything has a beginning. So, why not start with Terry Vaughn? Waiter. Oh, waiter. Oh, yes, sir? I wonder if you'd deliver this note for me. Certainly, sir. Where to? Miss Terry Vaughn. I'll see about it, sir. Will this make you see any better?

Oh, yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Oh, and tell Miss Vaughn I'm a journalist. Newspaper man? Yes, I guess that's it. You see, I'd like an interview. Well, I'll see what I can do, sir. I'll do my very best. I waited. I didn't know what Miss Terry Vaughn could tell me or wouldn't tell. There was a chance. She didn't know me, so she wouldn't be suspicious.

It was ten minutes later that the waiter came back to my table. Miss Vaughn will see you, Mr. Holliday. Oh, how did you know my name? It was on the card you sent with the note. Simple, isn't it, Dr. Watson? I beg your pardon? Oh, never mind. Now, where's Miss Vaughn? Oh, she'll be here in a moment. Oh. Okay, I'll wait. Yes, sir. Glad to have been of service. Thank you.

I waited, and I'll admit the wait was worthwhile. Miss Terry Vaughan glided across the floor to my table, smiled $5,000 worth of tea, tossed a million dollars in red hair over her shoulder, and put $10 million of the rest of her in the chair across from me. You're Mr. Holliday? You're Miss Vaughan. Mm-hmm. Your note said you wanted to interview me. That's right. Well, I'm flattered. I imagine that's a fairly common situation with you. Oh.

What paper are you with, Mr. Holliday? I have a connection with the Star Times. Oh, you're a big city boy. I didn't know it showed. Why do you want to interview me? Oh, lots of reasons, Miss Vaughn. Name one. Well, I heard you were very lucky today. Lucky? How? Or do you win $20,000 every day? What does this have to do with an interview? Well, it's human interest, Miss Vaughn. Very human and very interesting. I see you.

But, uh, why pick on my lucky streak? Because, well, because it was so lucky. Oh, I've always been lucky. I can understand that. Oh, how did you happen to pick Party Line today? I like long shots. Always? When I feel lucky. Do you ever lose? Sometimes. Why? Oh, I'm just asking. Mr. Holliday, this is a peculiar interview. Oh, I don't think so. Just pleasant.

What paper did you say you were with? The Star Times. And what are you doing here? Vacation. When is it over? A couple of weeks. I see. Well, Mr. Holliday, as far as I'm concerned, it's over now. Have a nice time. Oh, wait. I'm sorry. Please stay here. Why? I feel that I owe you an apology. For what? For being so curious. All right. We'll forget it. Let's do it.

Let's forget all about $20,000, long shots, and lucky streaks. And what shall we substitute? Terry Vaughn. Do you mind? Hmm. I don't mind if I do, Mr. Holliday. Well, it was a pleasant way to spend an evening. But when it was over, I was just as smart as at the beginning, which was zero. Maybe Terry Vaughn was lucky. But how lucky can you be?

The next day, I met Bert Hendricks, and he had more trouble. Well, somebody did it again today, Dan. Not quite as big as Terry's play yesterday, but enough. Enough. One of the same 20 people you've tabbed? Yeah, one of the 20. If it weren't for the fact that it's those same 20 people all the time, it could be just luck. Could be. You saw Terry last night? Yeah. Oh, yeah, I saw Terry. And? A very lovely girl. I wish I had her money. It's mine. Ha, ha, ha.

That's funny. I'm sorry, Bert. I don't have to ask if you've watched those 20 people. Oh, sure we have. They don't talk to anyone connected with the track. As far as I know, they don't even know anyone there. There's got to be a gimmick.

Yeah, that's what I keep telling myself in my head. Look, Bert, let's try to figure it out logically. You say every one of those bets is placed just before the race is run. That's right. And each of those 20 people takes a winner. Yeah. Not only with me, but with all the other agents who have the same setup I've got. Then how could they get advance information? They can't. They've got to, Bert. Dan, we've been all over that. Maybe there's an angle you've overlooked. Okay, name it and I'll buy it. Hmm.

Is there any particular race or races they always bet? Hmm? What races do you lose the most heavily on? Wait a minute. That is an angle. You think of something? Maybe. Wait a second. I'm going to check. I think I'm right, but I'll make sure.

Hello? Hello, Billy. This is Burke. Yeah? What race is being run now? Time for the sixth. Do you have any big bets? No. Were there any of the 20 on this one? No. Which ones did they hit? Third, fourth, fifth. That's all? Yeah. Why? Nothing. See you later. Well, third, fourth, and fifth. That's what I thought. Never the first, second, or the sixth, seventh, or eighth. Always the third, fourth, and fifth.

That's right. But where's the gimmick? I don't know. But hand me the phone. Here. Thanks. Now, what's the phone number of the club where Terry Vaughn works? No, I don't know. It's in the directory. But why? What's that got to do with this? Bert, I don't know yet. But I'm going to ask the lovely Terry Vaughn if she'll go out with me tomorrow afternoon. Afternoon? What are you getting at? Your money. I hope. Hand me the directory. Hello.

And now back to Much Too Lucky, another Box 13 adventure with Alan Ladd as Dan Holliday. Well, I had an idea. Not a big one. Not one that made sense, yet. But I was going to play it. So the next afternoon, I met Miss Terry Vaughn for lunch. I arranged the time so we'd be together just about the same time the horses went to the post for the third race.

We sat on a little cafe. I was really surprised that you called me, Dan. Oh? Why, Terry? Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you seem more interested in my luck than in me. The two go together. I suppose so.

Uh, do you ever play the races? No, I, uh, I never have. But there's always a first time. That's what they all say. Why do you ask? Got something good, as they say in the vernacular? Oh, I never get tips. Ah, but you win. Occasionally. What's your secret? What makes you think it's a secret? That was just a figure of speech. Let's talk about something else. What time is it? Oh, 2.20. Why?

Thinking of leaving me so soon? No, but I have something to do around three. Oh, important? To me, yes. I see. Well, shall we take a walk? Yes, I'd like to. Okay, that's it. So we walked. Harry was very charming. I was beginning to wonder about my hunch. Maybe it was luck after all.

Then a few minutes after three... Dan, will you excuse me for a few minutes? Oh, your important three o'clock news. That's it. I have to make a phone call. Want me to wait? Yes, if you want to. Oh, I do. I'll make it from this drugstore. All right. I'll wait right here. I won't be more than a few minutes. She went into the drugstore and straight to her phone booth.

I slipped inside, went to a counter. The clerk came up to me. May I help you, sir? Oh, yes, yes. Let me see a pair of those binoculars, will you? These? They're not very good, except for children, just toys. Oh, I like to play with toys. May I see a pair? Certainly. Here you are. Thanks. If you point them outside, you'll get a better idea of what they'll do. Oh, I'm getting a good idea right here. Excuse me, I'll be right back, sir. Mm-hmm.

I watched Miss Terry Vaughn in that phone booth. The binoculars weren't very good, but I saw the numbers she dialed and remembered them. She spoke for a few seconds, hung up, dropped another coin and dialed another number. I got that one, too. Then the clerk came back. They work all right, sir? Oh, they're marvelous, just marvelous. How much are they? $2.95. Here you are. Shall I wrap them? Got any kids? Huh?

I mean, why, yes. Well, here's a present for them. But... You just bought them. Well, you see, I like your kids. You take these. But... But, sir, I can't take these. Or can I? I walked back outside and got to the pavement before Terry Vaughan finished her second phone call.

I was standing there when she came out. Well, there we are. All set. Make a call, all right? Yes. Now, how'd you like to see the town? I'd love it. Come on, let's go. Come on.

We spent a pleasant afternoon, but my mind wasn't on my work. I was trying to keep those phone numbers straight in my head. Then Terry had to go to the club for rehearsal. As soon as she left me, I headed for a phone booth and dialed the first number she'd called.

Hello, Bill? Bill? What number do you want? Is Bill there? There's no Bill here. I'm sorry. You're sure there's no Bill there? No, you got a wrong number, bud. Wrong number, huh? Maybe, maybe not. I dialed the second number she'd called. Hello?

Hello? Hello, who's this? Hendricks. Who's that? Hendricks. This is Holliday. Holliday. What's up? Listen, did Terry Vaughn place a bet this afternoon? Yeah, on the fourth. Did she win? She had 50 on the winner's nose. Look, she was with me when she made the bet. You heard her make it? No, she was in a phone booth. Was that the only bet she made? That was enough. How many winners did you have in that race? Six of the other 20 people had the winner. How about the other races? Third, fourth, and fifth. All winners among the 20 people. Uh-huh.

You got the gimmick? Maybe, but I've got to prove it. Listen, just sit tight, Bert. Don't open your mouth, don't let out a peep, and above all, don't try to see me. But, Dan, if you know anything, please... I don't know whether I know anything or not, but I'll find out tomorrow at the track. Later that evening, I made a purchase, a very important one. Then I called Terry Vaughn and asked her to go to the track with me the next day. It took a little persuasion, but she finally said yes.

So the next afternoon, with my purchase in the pocket of my top coat, Miss Vaughn and I went to the track. And up in the stands... Do you know, Dan, this is the first time I've been here this season. Oh, I thought you liked racing. Oh, I do, but... Well, being at the track makes me nervous. Nervous? Why? Oh, no reason at all. Oh.

Which horse do you like in this race? Oh, I'm not going to bet. Oh, now, with your luck... I don't want to force it. I see. Well, I don't blame you. Why don't you go ahead and bet for me? All right, you pick a horse for me. Think my luck will rub off on you? Could be. Go ahead, pick one. Well, let's see. How does this one sound? Bright Angel. Bright Angel it is, in the third. It's almost post time. Uh-huh.

These are good seats. Yes, they are. I reached through my pocket and took out the important purchase I had made the previous evening and started to unwrap it. What's that, Ken? Oh, I just bought this. A portable radio. I wonder if I can hear the race on it. Don't turn that on. Why not? Put down that radio, Mr. Holliday. Put it down. Why don't you want me to turn it on? You're just a little too smart, Mr. Holliday.

This is a gun in my purse. You're getting out of here. Go on. I carry radios. You carry guns. You're well equipped. Go on. Lead the way. Huh? Okay. She was as cool as an Arctic winter. And she handled the gun nicely. Kept it in the small of my back under her handbag. Somehow I knew she'd use it if she had to.

We got to her car, and a half hour later, she marched me into a room where a man sat wearing a pair of headphones. He looked up as we came in. Oh, hello, Terry. Who's this? A smart boy, Tim. I'm leaving him with you. Smart boy? Mm-hmm. He's wise. How he got that way, I don't know. But after the fifth race cleanup, we're leaving town. Well, it's about time. We couldn't run this racket forever.

You know, Mr. Holliday, you're lucky you didn't come along sooner. Yes, I know. Before you made your take. That's right. How did you figure it? Through a 295 pair of binoculars. I saw the numbers you dialed yesterday. Oh, you should be with us. Let's see.

That thing there is a wire recorder. You tap into the broadcast line that runs from the track to the radio station, without the station's knowledge. You record the broadcast, then play it back into the broadcast line, two minutes after the regular airtime. You are smart. And those two minutes give you enough time to place bets on sure things.

You already know the winners, but the bookmakers don't. Correct. But you only pull this on the middle three races of the card, so that latecomers and those who leave the track early won't catch wise by listening to their radios. Right again. The broadcast is delayed two minutes. The race is already over before the bookmakers even think it's started. Sit down, Mr. Holliday. Watch him, Tim. Yeah, okay. I'm going to clean up a few odds and ends.

Goodbye, Mr. Holliday. Oh, we'll see each other again. Oh, I doubt that very much. Goodbye. And be very happy that some of my luck did rub off on you. Smart dame, smart dame. Nose angles. Yes, I can see that. Yeah, we make a take here and then move on. Now, you just sit still, bub. I got some work to do, but I can still watch you. I watched him, too.

The wire recorder was spinning. He flipped a switch and I knew what happened. The third race, the track was over. But the broadcast of it was going over the air now. Two minutes later. Then... Now we sit tight for a while. Say, that wire recorder, I've never seen one before. Great gadgets. Great. I make recordings of my own voice all the time. Oh?

Do you mean all you do is talk into that little microphone and your voice is recorded right away? Mm-hmm. Hey, you want to say something? Hey, you're obliging me. Oh, sure. Anything to pass the time. It gets dull in here. Go on, say something, and we'll play it back for you. Go on. Well, what'll I say? Oh, anything. First thing comes to your mind. Well, my name is Dan Holliday. I'm being held prisoner at 758 Condo Street at the point of a gun. Please help.

Oh, great. Just great. Don't you wish someone on the outside could really hear that? Yeah, I guess I do. Now, you mean that thing will play it right back, huh? Sure. Just got to switch from the record to playback, that's all. He turned his back for a second, flipped the switch. I flipped the switch, too, and waited. Well, my name is Dan Holliday. I'm being held prisoner at 758 Condo Street at the point of a gun.

Please help. See? That's all there is to it. Well, well, well. What do you know about that? Isn't science wonderful? Yeah, it sure is. Too bad you had to come along and spoil this racket, mister. But I guess we made a big enough take. Keep your hands up, mister. I can shoot and answer the phone at the same time.

Yeah? Tim, what happened? Happened? Nothing. Why? The guy is still... Listen, get out of there fast and take him with you. We'll take care of him later, but get out of there fast. Terry! Terry! Something wrong? I don't know. Get up and move out. Go on. I did. But I did something else first. We walked out of the place, a gun in my ribs. I hoped what I'd done would work. We walk up the street a piece and then... That's cops. All right, duck in here. Go on, in this hallway. Go on.

Now, just keep quiet and let them go past. Guess they won't find nobody there, will they? No, I guess not. Well, what now? Well, wait for a minute and we go. All right. Now get in front of me and stay there. Go on. Drop that gun. What? Better drop it than a lot of cops. Okay, okay, don't shoot.

Dan. Dan Halliday. You all right? Sure, Hendricks. Did you hear my broadcast? Yeah. Your voice cut in right in the middle of the regular broadcast. I don't get it. I don't get it. How'd they find us? How'd they trail us? Oh. Look on your coattail, Tim. You didn't know it, but when we left that room, I hooked the end of the wire from the recorder on your coat. You see, Tim, you were wired for sound. Oh.

Gee, that sure was a clever idea they had, Mr. Holliday. Uh-huh. And you were clever, too. That wire left a trail right to you and that man. Yeah, he was wired for sound, Susie. Uh-huh. Oh, and I'll bet you got a racy story out of it. Uh, what, Susie? Oh, don't you get it, Mr. Holliday? I made a joke. Racy story. Get it? Yeah.

Yeah, I got it. Good night, Susie. Next week, same time, through the courtesy of Paramount Pictures, Alan Ladd stars as Dan Holliday in Box 13.

Box 13 is directed by Richard Sanville. This week's original story by Robert M. Light and Mr. Sanville. Original music is composed and conducted by Rudy Schrager. Part of Susie is played by Sylvia Picker and production is supervised by Vern Carstensen. Box 13 is a Mayfair production from Hollywood. Watch for Alan Ladd in his latest Paramount Picture. 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.

There is a theory that man, like time, has two identities. Time's countenance is day and it's alter ego is night.

Breeding, intelligence, generosity and mercy are the characteristics which civilized man must show the world in order to take his rightful place in it. But in some there may be a dormant force underneath the veneer of civilization. A grasping, murderous, pitiless animal of hate and frenzy which, when unleashed, can become a scourge whose only joy is blind destruction.

How are you this evening, Lucy? Well enough, dear. Have you had your dinner? Yes. I've just finished mine, Frank. The roast was excellent. Yes. I've told Hilda to bring you some milk later on. Are you comfortable? Quite. What book would you like? I'm quite content with the papers, Frank. If there's something you want, you only have to ask for it.

I know that, darling. Thank you. I've been reading the account of the New Research Foundation. I'm very proud of my husband. Now, Lucy... When your name's in the newspapers, I can never get enough of it. You're so appreciated, loved by so many. All the papers overdo it, Lucy. All I've done is donate a little money to a worthy cause. You've spent your whole life with worthy causes, Frank. You'd have been a multi-millionaire by now if you hadn't given so much away to charity. Well, I've still got enough to get by on.

And I've made certain you have a handsome income for life if anything happens to me. Oh, Frank, please don't talk that way. Nothing's going to happen to you. You never know. Oh, no, you've got to live, Frank, for a long, long time. The world would find it hard to do without you. I think you're prejudiced. Thousands of people have you to thank for a new start in life. And even with everything you've done, you've always found time to bother with me. Now, darling... If only I could be of some help to you.

Funny, I want a hopeless invalid lying here in bed day after day. Lucy, please, I don't like to hear you speak like that. All right. But you could make me less self-conscious of it. If you would. How do you mean that? Well, Frank, darling, you never go out. Unless it's connected with business or charity. You never have any fun. I appreciate my home. I don't enjoy leaving it. You mean you feel guilty about leaving me alone. Lucy... It happens every day. You deny yourself because of me.

I overheard you talking to Frederick Walsh before you refused his invitation. That's just the sort of thing I don't want you to do. Oh, I can do without cocktail parties. Friends, you're still young, darling. I want you to get some pleasure out of life. But I do, Lucy. Darling, don't you see it's easier for me when I know you're not making additional sacrifices? Hmm.

You'd feel better if I went out occasionally? Yes, much better. Well, we'll see about it. No, I want you to start right now. Tonight. I want you to go to Frederick's party. Oh, it'll probably be a bore. No, it won't, Frank. He's always had such interesting people for friends. I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. Well, to be perfectly honest with you, Lucy, I did rather fancy the idea for a moment. Then how? That's all I wanted to know.

Now you get yourself dressed and go to that party. And give my best to Fred. Are you sure you won't mind? Why should I? Well, all right then. I'll run over for a couple of hours. Good. Well, what are you waiting for? For a moment I had a feeling that I ought to forget about it. I don't know why. I'm being rather silly, aren't I? I don't know why I said that. Well, good night, Lucy. Good night, Frank. Just make sure you come back to me when the party's over.

Well, of course, I'm the... Thank you, old man. This is a welcome surprise. How are you, Fred? Couldn't be better. And you? Oh, I'm quite well, thanks. I never expected you to show up tonight. You said you couldn't make it. Well, I changed my mind. Or rather, Lucy changed it for me. Good for her. Thank you.

How is dear Lucy? I'm complaining as usual. Oh, she sent a love. Poor girl. Life's not an easy one. No. Neither is yours, Frank. I can appreciate that. Oh, I'm happy in my own way. Oh, I didn't mean... No, of course, of course you didn't. Let's drop the subject, shall we? Well, I see you have your usual crowd here tonight. Yes, I think you know most everyone. Thank you.

Lorenzo over there at the piano is giving a big concert this week. Yes, he's a magnificent musician. And Harriet Kane is here. Her play opened six months ago. Yes, and if it's as successful as her last one was, she'll deserve plenty of praise. Yes. I think you know almost everyone there. Oh, except Viola, perhaps. Viola? Viola Hazen. The woman in the corner with the drink in her hand. That name sounds familiar. She's quite a sculptress. Very popular in Europe. She just returned. Hasn't been home for 15 years.

When the Nazis took Paris, she hid away somewhere. No one actually knows how she got along. At any rate, she's here, and I'd like her to meet you. Well, don't bother about introducing me around, Fred. Just let me introduce you to Fiona, and I'll leave you in peace. You'll find she's extraordinary, company. Come with me. Fiona, my dear.

This is a charming party, Frederick. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. I want you to meet a very good friend of mine, Frank Cameron. Viola, he's Frank. How do you do? How do you do? You must have heard of Frank. He's the modern Santa Claus. He pays Mr. Moneybags to every worthwhile project he can. Oh, yes, Mr. Cameron's reputation has preceded him...

I'm very impressed. I wouldn't pay any attention to Frederick. I believe he's a disappointed presage. Oh, is that so? Come here, Mr. Bob. Will you excuse me? Of course. A drink? Oh, yes, yes, thank you. Here's one on the tray. Thank you. Shall we propose a toast? Yes, if you like. Here's to...

Death and all it holds for us. So that's an odd toast. I'm a very odd person, Mr. Cameron.

You look just as I imagined you'd look. I've heard and read about you often. Frank Cameron, heaven's gift to the underprivileged. You sound disapproving. I don't have very much use for philanthropy. It's a hypocritical posture. That's not quite fair. Chacun a son goût. Your French is clearer than your philosophy, Miss Hazen. Oh, call me fairer. It's simpler. Why do you feel a philanthropist is a hypocrite?

A man who gives his money away is trying to cover some inner fiend of guilt. Oh, right, then I'm a potential murderer. You may be. One never knows. Phil, I think you've had too much to drink. On the contrary, I know what I'm talking about. On the surface, you're respectable, generous, home-loving. I take it you have a home. Yes, and a wife. Oh.

He probably thinks you're wonderful. You're undoubtedly beginning to think so yourself. No, I'm not quite that conceited. But underneath all that veneer... Well, underneath it, what am I? I'd find out if I made a sculpture of you. You mean these inner trays I have would show up in your work?

When I carve, I don't see my subject from the surface. Something happens to me when I work. I only see what the subject is really like beneath his layer of flesh. Oh.

Well, I'm sorry I don't have time enough to let you make the experiment, Viola. You mean you're sorry you don't have enough nerve? Now, really, you're going a little too far. Oh, the outraged male. Well, if you ever feel you have courage enough to learn what you rarely look like underneath, you might drop in and see me. The experiment might be amusing. I can always find a little time to be amused. I suggest you don't count on it. Oh, but I will.

You men are all alike. You're more curious than women. You drop around and I'll be waiting for you. Just look me up. I'm in the phone book. I shall be looking forward to you very soon. Is that you, Frank? Yes, Lucy.

Well, did you have fun? Oh, the party was pretty, pretty dumb. Didn't you meet any interesting people at all? No, no one to speak of.

I just dropped in to see if you were all right. Yes, I'll have a cigar and a library and perhaps some brandy and then I'll turn in. Frank? Yes? What's the trouble? Why, nothing. You sound uneasy. It's just your imagination, dear. Put the light on and let me look at you. Well, you satisfied?

You're... you're sure you're not worried about anything? Quite sure. Now you go to sleep. I'm sorry I disturbed you. Oh, by the way, John Wilkins called while you were out. Huh? What for? He wanted to remind you of that conference tomorrow at noon. Oh, yes, I'd forgotten. You're going, aren't you? Well, there was something I was thinking of doing. Then you'd better call him in the morning and tell him. Yes, yes, I will. As a matter of fact, I believe I'll see him after all. That other thing I mentioned was...

Something silly, and I've changed my mind about it. Yes, I've changed my mind. Good night, Lucy, dear. Hello. Hello. Come in, won't you? Thanks. You, uh, act as if you were expecting me. I was.

Oh, this whole thing is ridiculous. Last night I made up my mind I wouldn't accept your childish offer. And why are you here? I don't know. Curiosity, perhaps? Oh, no, it's more than that. What do you mean? Cigarette. Oh, yes, thank you. Let me make some drinks. No, no, please don't. I can't stay with you long. You're frightened. Of you? No.

That's the silliest thing I've ever heard. You're frightened of what might happen if I modeled you in stone. Now, look here. I think this joke's gone far enough. All this nonsense about the inner me and so on, it doesn't amuse me anymore. Don't be angry. I'm not angry, but I think it's rot. Would you like me to prove it to you? Yes, if you can. What's your charge? Whatever you wish to pay. And how often will I have to come? Every evening a date for three or four hours. We couldn't begin tonight if you could. Now, is it a bargain? Will you be here this evening?

Yes, I'll be here. One thing I want you to remember, however. The responsibility is yours. What responsibility? For whatever happens when you learn the truth about yourself.

Man has been on this earth for many years, and in the course of time he has risen from the primates to his present status as the most intelligent of animals. But there are a few who have not come quite so far, and who continue to teeter upon the narrow perch that divides civilization from aboriginal chaos.

How much longer, Viola? Just a second. I can take a break. All right, relax. Why do you always cover the statue after you finish? Because I don't want you to see it yet. It's been five days and I'm getting curious. You'll see it when it's finished. It's been rather nice being here in the evenings. Hmm.

You seem to have a lot more time to spare than you thought you'd have. Well, I've managed to arrange my affairs so that... So that your wife wouldn't know? That's stupid, Bealda. But it's true, isn't it? Haven't you been keeping this from her? What if I have? Loving you just amuses me, that's all. Sometimes I think you have no heart. And what's so funny? You're so naive. Don't make fun of me.

Are you falling in love, Frank? What? With me. Why, that's... That's ridiculous. Is it? Stop it! What kind of a woman are you anyway? Don't you have any sensitivity at all? Come here, Frank, and I'll show you how sensitive I am. Come on, come here. Come on.

Well? I... I don't think we should have. Stop it. Stop it before you walk. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. So you can be angry and barbaric. I was right.

Yes, well, perhaps it is time for you to see what I've done. I'm not finished, but I'd like you to tell me what you think of it so far. You want me to uncover the statue? Yes, go ahead. I don't know if I should. Frightened? Go on, Frank, go on. See yourself as I see you. All right. Why? Why, that's... that's not me. Look closely. It looks...

More like some kind of monster. It's not finished, but it's well on its way. It's not a man, but... Hello? Yes, Frank. If you faced yourself honestly, you'd know what it means. All men are like that underneath. Their souls are foul and decaying. You really hate, don't you? I have reason for it. Look at the face, Frank. The fangs in its mouth and the eyes. Look at it closely and think of yourself. Frank?

Stooped, your arms dragging. Look at the ape Frank that walks like a man. You had that coming to you. Oh, good, good, very good. Now you're being honest. Now you're giving away to your real desires. You must be out of your mind. I'm never coming back here. You'll come back. You know you'll come back.

To me. Welcome home. I thought you were never coming back. I came for that statue. Why? I'm going to destroy it. I won't. I'm going to get rid of it. No. Not until it's finished. I've been working on it.

I see it's two weeks since you left here. Do you know what they've been for me? Do you know how I've suffered because of you? No, not because of me, Frank. Because of yourself. It's rather difficult to admit what we really are to ourselves. It's hard to believe that anyone could do to me what you've done. You've taken my confidence. You've made me afraid. You've torn me down like a piece of your clay to amuse yourself. Let me show you how far I've gone in my work. I am going to destroy that statue, Viola. Come here.

Look at it again. It's horrible. It's the most frightful thing I've ever seen. I have a name for it, Frank. Do you know what it is? No, but I don't want to hear it. I'm calling it the ape name. I'll smash it. Frank!

Why don't you face the facts? What facts? You know you hate the life you've been leading. You know you hate your wife. She's like an anchor around your neck. Your whole life has been like that. You've repressed your inner feelings. You've made up to be something that you're not. You're to be as strong, strong like I am. Why don't you admit that you come from the jungles and that's where you want to be?

You're completely insane. You must be. Take me in your arms, Frank. Kiss me. Kiss me. You want a kiss? I could kill you. Frank. Frank. Frank? Frank?

Frank, is that you? Yes, Lucy. Frank, where are you? Put on the light. Oh, I prefer the dark. Lucy, I'd like to ask you something. Frank, your voice sounds so strange. Are you happy, Lucy? You know I am. Really happy?

Is life so wonderful for you that you want to cling to it, even though you're powerless to enjoy it the way others do? Frank, what's come over you? You sound so different. Don't put on the light, you'll see. I told you not to put them on. What's happened to you? You look like someone else. I am someone else. Someone you never knew. Your hair, your face. I hardly recognize you. What do I remind you of, you'll see?

Don't be afraid to say it. I remind you of an ape. Frank. And I feel like something out of the jungles. Frank, what are you doing with that razor? Razor? Are you going to kill me? You're afraid? No. I'm not afraid. You're ill, my dear. I've seen it coming on. Your mind is ill. She told me you stood in the way of our happiness.

She told me I had to get rid of you if I wanted her. Frank, I'm so sorry for you. You feel sorry for me? Yes. I've been afraid of this. I've seen you change. I don't care what you do to me. Lucy. I'm ready. I'm ready now. For anything. You're back. Yes, I'm back. Well...

You still want me, do you? I told you how I wanted you. Yes, providing I got rid of her. You wanted me to...

Kill her? I never used that word. But you inferred it. If you have murder in your heart, it must come to the surface. You have murder in your heart. Have I? Murder and hate. Yes, yes, you're right. I have. I have real hate. I loved once, and he was a fiend, a German fiend, a goose-stepping, hiling, rotten fiend. I loved him, and I believed in what he said, and then he left me. So that's how you lived in your opinion. Why not? What difference does it make as long as I had everything I wanted?

I can love again, Frank. I can love you. Me and my money? Yes, you and everything you call your own. Frank. Well? Did you kill her?

No. What happened? Why didn't you go through with it? Because the job you did wasn't perfect. She deserves to live much more than you do. Frank, Frank, what are you doing with that animal? Yes! Frank! Frank! Frank! Frank! Frank! Frank! Frank!

Don't come near me. You wanted to make a murderer of me, didn't you? Frank, don't be a fool. It was all a joke. Was it? You know I wasn't serious. You know I... How did you open the window? Come here, Viola. No. Come here! No. No. No.

You, you, let go, let go of me. Look, look down, Viola. We're 13 stories above the trees. You can't light shine down there in civilization. Let go of me, please. Let go of me. There are people down there, Viola. Good people, not people like us. Not animals, apes who belong in the jungle. If you love me, Frank, you let me go. You know you love me. I can't love you. Now, I can only hate you. You made me that way, you. Frank. Lido, through the window. No. Lido. And look down. No.

Would you like to join the others in the street? Would you like to join the civilized ones? You're forcing me over the fence. You can join them down there, but first you must purify yourself. You can join them, Viola, and they'll have you. Didn't I? No. No, don't do it. No. Don't do them, Viola. Don't do them. No. No, no. No.

To those of us who live in dignity, who respect the percepts of the conscience and the community of humans we call the world, to those life is a joy and a wholesome experience much to be desired. But to the others, the very few others whose feet are molded in clay, it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

The clock will be heard again next week, same time, same station. Written by Lawrence Klee, Harp McGuire narrates as the clock, and you heard Richard Davies as Frank, Georgie Sterling as Viola, Wendy Playfair as Lucy, Max Osmiston as Fred. The clock, directed by John Saul, is a Grace Gibson Radio production. The clock.

Just after five. I think we should be here now. Gargo? Uh, Teji, Kado and Nishi. Oh, what's the time in future? You kept me waiting. You got the things? I have them. Any carvings you found? No, pictures only. That should be all right. Have you heard of them, Teji? I have hidden them there, yes. Ah, good. Okay, now let's go collect them for the last time. The Sons of Darkness. The Sons of Darkness.

Lee Masters, FBI, who wages relentless war against crime. Lee Masters, the blind detective who challenges the sounds of darkness. Isn't South Africa a very worthwhile movement known as the South African Blind Workers Organization? This organization gives blind people the opportunity to become self-supporting,

To do this, the organization needs financial support, so I'm asking you all to donate generously. Send all donations to South African Blind Workers Organization, P.O. Box 2360 Johannesburg. P.O. Box 2360 Johannesburg. Thank you. The Sounds of Darkness Tonight, The Face of Death

Digging into the sake again? In Rome, do as the Romans do. Yeah. That doesn't make sense, does it? The quote, or the fact that we're landing in Tokyo in an hour? Both, I guess. Anyway, the sake's great. It goes down just like water. Hey, what are we going to eat in Japan? Food. Yeah. Yeah.

Are you thinking about the case, huh? Yeah, I'm wondering why Genji Misako wants us, yeah. Sure, I've worked with him before, just after 52, when the boys were pulled back to the States. Uh-huh. The occupying forces? Yeah, there was a bit of trouble. A lot of the guys took it out on the civilian population. Maybe you couldn't blame them. The Japs had never liked our army sitting there in Tokyo and elsewhere. Misako was the big boss then? Not as big as he is now. Head of their secret service.

He was a great guy. Quiet like a cat. And as quick. You stayed in Tokyo about a week, huh? Yeah, that's right. Oh, it was soon sorted out. In fact, the feds weren't really needed. It was maybe more of a political move. Just to show the Japanese that we were prepared to fly in the big guns to preserve law and order. I wonder what's up now. We'll find out soon enough, I guess. Sure. Whatever it is, it must be serious.

Japan has one of the finest police forces in the world, and their secret service is second to none. We didn't have to come, lady. CIA could have stepped in, even though Misako asked for you. Well, let's say I'm in Misako's debt. I'll tell you about it sometime.

20 minutes is an eternity.

There are two friends of mine, Bridges Musters, on the flight that has just landed. I want them through customs immediately, not illegal. But why, though? Hang on, Johnny.

You okay, Genji? Yes, Lee. I'm well. It was you who got us through customs back there, huh? This is Johnny Bridges, my sidekick. Hi. You never did beat that habit, did you, Genji? Which one? I have many. Of using that bath lotion. You know, the one you got hooked on when you were still a student. Well, that's what you told me, anyway. Yes. I still use it. One of my more pleasant memories of England...

I did not realize the perfume was so strong, though. It isn't. I have a car waiting. A good flight? Very pleasant. Thanks for getting us through so fast. Lee, I heard a rumor a long time ago now that you were injured. The eyes. Yeah. Like Johnny does my seeing for me. I am sorry. Don't let it bug you. You are still able to... No, that is impolite.

You would not have come to Japan to me if you were not still capable. He's capable, all right, mister. Okay, okay. Can we quit diagnosing Lee Masters? It's nice to see you again, Genji. What's the beef? I shall explain in the car if you would come this way. Let the porter bring the bags, please. After all, that is what they're paid for. Not gone? Not gone.

Music

Of course, I could deal with it myself. Or the police could. But the ramifications would be rather hideous, not so. Could be. So it's straight theft on the surface, and at Nara itself. Yes. You know something of our history, Lee? Some. Nara is perhaps the living museum of ancient Japanese art and architecture. Places like Horiyoji, the world's oldest extent of wooden structure, and the largest...

In Nara, there are some of the most priceless art treasures in the world. Hand-painted pottery, tapestry, exquisite lacquerware, carvings, paintings, screens, everything. And these are being filled from the museums, eh? From one only, at the Kasuga Shrine. And I know who is doing it. A man called Nathan Sharp, an American. So, why not pick him up? Possibly because he is related to your Secretary of State. Possibly because the thefts, as I told you, conceal something else.

Your laser experiments? As astute as ever, Lee. Yes, our laser experiments. At Osaka, near Nara, there has been a leakage. Sharp, I think, is responsible. Recently, the Chinese have been reproducing our experiments. How?

Again, a leakage. So why not pick this guy up? Is he a citizen of Japan, then? Yes. Oh, piece of cake. It's not that simple, Mr. Bridges. If it were, I would not have invited you both across from America, would I? You want me to do your dirty work? In a manner of speaking, yes. After all, the man was an American. He was the youngest colonel ever in your Air Force. He was something of a hero.

He is related to one of your politicians. And I owe you something. Yes, you do. Let me see how the land lies, Genji. Okay, I'm here officially, but this has a personal angle to it. I want to keep our noses clean. A lovely expression. We shall have lunch and then fly down to Osaka, if you don't mind. It's only an hour and a half from here.

You would like some more music? Yeah, sure, thanks.

Say, what are we eating anyway? I will tell you. It is sukiyaki. As different from mizutaki as tempura is from shushi. Yeah, come again. Different dishes, Johnny, that's all. Would you like to get that music going? Certainly. And we'd like to talk, if you don't mind, if you could leave us alone a while. Certainly. Oh, now, was that nice. A honey like that waiting on his hand and foot and you give her the brush off. Where are your manners?

You think Genji Misako didn't have her come to our table specially? You mean... Genji's an old friend of mine. But he's still head of the secret service here. He has certain habits he can't get out of. But we're on his side, aren't we? Of course. He's cool, all right. Eyes that look right through you.

What's this laser kick? Japan and the States lead the world in research on laser. Here and back home, it's being investigated for industrial purposes, as you know. Can't be a military weapon, too, of course.

You think the Japs are making something out of it? Military? Uh, maybe. They have every right to do so, naturally. And that's where Misako comes into the picture. Right. Whatever plans about Japan's progress with laser are leaking out. Be

Be they military or industrial, he'd be involved. And Japan and Red China don't see eye to eye these days. It still sounds an internal job to me. Not that I mind. I could sit here all day eating this grub. Nathan Sharp. Sure, you told me. Naturalized Japanese now. Lives in Kobe, which is Osaka's harbor.

Something of a nut, huh? That's what I want to find out. Something's fishy, Johnny. Sukiyaki? No, that's meat, I think. Johnny, I... I am happy that you are eating. I'm sorry, though, that I could not join you. Something at the office. Yeah...

You told us, Genji. You going to sit down? Of course. But I will not eat. I'm not hungry. The food is good. Where is the Michael who are serving you? You did not like her manner? She was okay. I didn't like her to listen in too much, that's all. She was a bit too...

attentive, you know? I have a toquito mentata sleeve. My apologies. Hey! Look out! I see another one! It was aiming for Ganjali. Almost got him, too. You okay? Yeah. It figures.

Oh, my God.

Did you have to gun him down? He tried to kill me, not so. Sure, but from the way Johnny tells it, you had him cornered at the end of the street. You could have taken him in. That is not my way. Apparently. I do not question your methods, Lee. Do not question mine. Sure. And you reckon it was a grudge, Kenji? Possibly. Possibly it was someone working for our friend, Mr. Sharp. It was a pity, if it is that. I

That

That is obviously how it is happening. The treasure that Sharpie's stealing are being got out at Kobe, at the harbor. I should think on a number of ships...

Where he is selling them, I do not know. Europe, perhaps. America, even. Could be. And the dope on the laser? Perhaps hidden with the paintings, the scrolls, the tapestries. He's taking one heck of a chance. If those treasures are picked up, the dope will be found. Sharp will be a goner. There are other means of smuggling plans out. This seems unnecessary. Let me put it this way, Lee.

I work hand in hand with police perfecture, insofar as the thefts are concerned. It has been going on for some time, two years. We know the treasures are going. We believe Sharp is responsible. But the system is working, you understand. Now that he steals plans as well, he uses the same system, even though to us it seems foolhardy. To say the least.

He's been questioned? Many times. Nothing. How did you get on to him? Sudden affluence. His wife has money. A little, this we know. But from reports, the shops are now rich. It coincides. That's all you have on him, huh? That is all. I have solved cases, unless... So have I, but... How come the laser? From the Japanese embassy in Nanking. China's experiments with laser are conducted there.

That is where our plans have been going. Who blew it at the embassy? One of the staff. Friends with some of the locals, you know. There was talk of an American here in Japan who was selling secrets to China. It was pinpointed to Nara, where Sharp lives. Plus a thousand other foreigners. Even the Christian name? That was mentioned. Nathan. And this came back to you from your embassy in Nanking? I have said so.

What would you like us to do to Sharp? Kill him.

So he wants to fake it, make it look like suicide, huh? Yeah, that's it, Johnny. Well, why can't he do it himself? Or get it done, quietly? He's a tough baby, that Misako. You should have seen the way he gunned down that guy that shot at him back there in Tokyo. Leveled the gun on him, slowly. And, as slowly, pulled the trigger.

Hey, you reckon I'm going the right way? You asked where to find the U.S. consul, didn't you? Sure, it's just that all Japs look alike. And all Jap streets look alike. Hang on. There she blows. The stars and stripes forever. Pull up outside. Neat little car, Miss Akalanda. It's okay. Johnny, the Oriental is a funny man. His sense of honor is fantastic.

He'll even kill himself if his honor is found wanting. So? So I don't think Red China have a laser plant at Nanking. What gives then? I'm not sure yet. Let's go in there, find out.

You didn't call on me, huh?

Yeah, we did. We'd have been watched anyway. Okay, Jim. Thanks again. You get some time off. I can show you the place, you know. Thanks. But right now, I'm working against time. Okay.

Ah, it's pretty here. Very formal. Neat little shrubs, gardens. Typical. Like the Japanese mind. Neat. And devious. No, it only seems so. Because we don't understand their code of thinking. Tell me something, what did Misaka do for you way back? Saved my life. Came along at the right time. Couple of our own boys, too. Canned.

One of them had a .45. I just used it. Was going to use it on me. Yeah. 1952. Any sign of Nathan Sharp yet? No? Why did Miss Sarko lie about Nanking, knowing I could check it? Funny way of thinking. A Jap never lies. He may not tell the truth, but he won't lie. Sounds odd, I know, but it's the way it goes. I owe Miss Sarko something.

He brings me out here, ostensibly to help him out of a fix. Pick up Sharp. Get him bumped off, like, accidentally. No more treasure stolen from here at Nara. No more leakages. Do him a favor. And yet... Anna. Misako has lied. In his code. That should make me... despise him. Lee. Maybe he wants you to... despise him. Yeah. Yeah.

Why? Maybe because when we get picked up, he can do it without losing face. Because it's lost already. Because he lied. You mean, you're enemies now? He wants us to be enemies, so his honor is satisfied. He can do anything to me now, and you. We're nothing now.

He's broken free of the bond that sort of held us together. Lee Masters, chair of philosophy. Hey, wait a minute. You said something about us being picked up. Sure. When we've had Nathan Sharp killed. Masako, is it? Hmm?

Sharp is stealing treasure, but he isn't stealing plans. The Saco is? I think so. Someone's onto him. Maybe even Sharp himself. That would make it even cozier. There's a tall, thin guy over there now. I've seen the description. Okay. Let's go say hello to Nathan Sharp.

I told you it was a long story. I hate war. I hate the trappings of war. That's why you didn't tell on Misako. Who was I to tell her to? Why? I love Japan. I found peace here. I don't want that peace disturbed. And yet, you've been stealing our treasures. Yeah. From the temples here. And the priests themselves for a few dollars. Shipping them out.

Yeah, no angel. Why did you start it? I'm not a young man, Johnny. I don't get a pension. I'm a Jap citizen now. I have to eat. So does my wife. I was going to stop it. Funny enough, I believe you. And Genji Masako? By accident. I used to consign what I stole to Shinko Piers in Kobe. Complicated system. He'd be picked up there and smuggled on board a ship taken away.

The treasures were packed in cases labeled consumer goods. One fell at the pier. It broke. My contact hid the stuff quickly enough, but not before he found out something else was in that piece of topstitch. The dope on the lazy? The stolen pants? Yeah. So Misako was using your way to get his stuff out.

Where to? Shangjin, China coast. Where my loot was picked up and his too. And he called us in to bump you up? I've been expecting something. I just hoped that things would go on as they were. I am a thief, but peace... But Miss Sarko couldn't take that chance. If you split, he was finished.

How did you tie it up with him? Because I was there when the packing case fell. And Brock. I had to be there. Sharp noticed my agitation. That is all. Yeah. Well, Genji. What happens now? You gonna knock us all off? Here? In the park? No. Not here. No.

Oh

Here, in the Horioti. In this wooden room. The priests are away at the moment. The sound of the gun will not be heard. It'll sound great when your newspapers get hold of it. As they will. Not one of you will be alive to talk to them. No, but they'll dig it up in time. How you and I had a bond between us because you saved my life. And how you killed me. Killed not only me, but the bond of honor that lay between us. Nonsense.

You may have been educated at Oxford, Genji, but you're Japanese. You're oriental through and through. And even if the papers don't get it eventually, what about you yourself? What about your honor, your face? That does not obtain her. You think not. You pull that trigger, you'll damn yourself until the day you die. You'll want to die, because you'll have betrayed yourself. I know you, Genji.

Nathan, get out of here. Yeah, yeah, okay. Quit stealing from now on or you'll be turned in. I let him walk out. Why? For the same reason that you'll let us walk out. Sure, someone's going to die right now. You. You.

That a ceremonial sword I heard when Nathan slammed that door, Johnny? Yeah, on the wall. Get it. Give it to Genji. He'll know what to do with it. How does that tanka, that poem go again? A man's life is honor. His honor is his life.

Tokahira wrote that, I believe. You know me so well, Lee Masters. We won't stay here, will you? One thing, why the laser plans? A small thing called money. Again, a thing, dishonor. We'll wait outside. Come on.

Okay, Johnny. Let's go. You have been listening to The Sounds of Darkness. Join the world of Lee Masters, the blind detective, next Tuesday and every Tuesday night at 7.30 in The Sounds of Darkness.

The Sons of Darkness is produced by Hedy van Beek. Lights out for the devil and Mr. O. 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. Nature Study is the title of our story. Nature Study. That's a charming pastime. The wonders of nature and all its infinite variety. But the most varied and fantastic subject of all, I think, is the nature of man and woman. The saint in them, the devil in them. We begin after a short message. 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. I'm going to tell you about Radio Nostalgia magazine.

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.

And now, if you haven't already done so, turn off your lights for nature study.

There we are. There we are where? Look about you. Oh, my goodness, it is beautiful, isn't it? I did not know this is where we were going. It's like a canyon, isn't it? It is a canyon. A cleft in the rocks, few people in this part of the country know about it. Well, I'm sitting down to rest my poor time. Oh, no, no, no, no. No, Miss Gard, we must go on.

Oh, no. Where are we going? Come now, come. On all our other Sunday nature study trips, I've never had such rebellion. Because we've never walked so far before. That's right. Where is this you are taking us today, Mr. Arno? To Canada? My dear friends and neighbors, we're exactly 15 miles from home. You could think we're out of this world. Yes.

Even in the midst of the city's turmoil, one can find nature's true isolation. Well, where do we go from here? There's a little path down through the canyon. There we will find lichens of many varieties. Oh, my goodness, what's that? My dear. I know, I know. They are like little ferns in the rocks. Excellent, Mr. Kamarin, excellent. Oh, I remember from last week. You will note these scratches on the face of the rock here. Who did it? Not who. What? The glacier. What's the matter, Miss Gardner?

You seem displeased. All I want to say is this. Do you mean to say we came all this way by subway and streetcar and bus just to see some old rock scratches? Well, there isn't any place in the state that has a finer record of glacial action. How do you like that? I thought I was going to see flowers and then just scratches and rocks. Well, Miss Gardner, Mr. Arno, he's a smart man. He knows that... Well, then maybe he knows I want to go home.

My feet are tired. This is all there is to see. I'm starting back now. Come on, Miss Wilkins. Let's get out of here. Find some real excitement. Well, I don't know. After all, Mr. Arno took all the time and Trump... What's that? Something up there. It's the rocks. Look out!

Miss Wilkins. Miss Wilkins. She passed out, I think. You all right? Yeah. Yeah, fine. Oh, see? She's all right. Miss Wilkins, are you hurt? Are you... I'm all right. Oh, sure, sure. She just fainted. And no wonder all those rocks falling down. It's a miracle we weren't hurt.

You all right, Mr. Kamara? Oh, sure, sure. We are all right. Nobody hurt. Oh! Miss Wilkins, what's the matter? Under that rock. Legs. Who? Miss

Miss Gard. It's Miss Gard. The rocks. Get them off. Get her out. Get the rocks off. Get her out. No, no, Miss Wilkins. Get her out. Stay back. We'll get her out. Yeah, we'll do it. We'll do it. Come on. Come on. Hurry. Hurry. Hurry. The other one now. Come on. Easy. Now, even more. There. One more rock. One more rock. You hear that, Miss Wilkins? One more rock. Oh, she's dead. I know she's dead.

Dad! I can't move. Lift more, Mr. Arnault. Lift, Mr. Arnault. Poor girl. Oh, Miss Gard. No, no, wait, wait. Look. Miss Wilkins, be quiet. Miss Gard, she's still alive. Alive? But how come... Shh, shh, shh. She's trying to talk. Yes, Miss Gard, I'm here. I'm listening. I'm listening.

I... I... Yes, what is it? I'm... I don't know. I'm sorry. I can't understand you, Miss Gard. What are you trying to tell us? Yes, yes. What, Miss Gard? What? I... I can't die without telling... Telling what? My... my husband...

Didn't die hard to failure. I... I killed him. Poison. I killed him. Miss Garth! Miss Garth! She... She's dead? No!

You feel better now, Miss Wilkins? I'm all right. Oh, don't try to get up. Just rest, rest. A few minutes more or less won't make any difference. Now... Mr...

I know. Yes, Mr. Kamaran. I have been sitting here. I have been trying to figure it out in my head. Why is it? Well, there must have been a fissure in the rocks. The action of frost and rain loosened them and perhaps the vibration of our horses... No, no, I am...

I'm thinking, why should it hurt her, not us? Well, I guess that's what you'd call fate. Do you think... Did she really kill her husband, like she said? I don't know. I don't know anything about her, except she was a neighbor. Yes. She lived in our building for a whole year already. I really don't know about her. I know. I know.

You, Miss Wilkins? Tell us, please. She told me she used to sing in a nightclub. So? Really? One morning she wasn't feeling good. She came down to my apartment. I guess she felt like talking. She told me she used to work in this nightclub. And then she married this rich fellow, lots older than she was, lots of money. And she married him. And she didn't like him very much. And all of a sudden he died. Oh.

Oh. Did she... Did she tell you that there was anything unusual about his death? No. She just said all of a sudden he died. Like poison? What are we sitting here for? Let's get out of here quick. Let's get out of here. Yes, yes. Mr. Arno, why do you sit there? Lead us the way out. Mr. Arno, what's the matter with you? Why do you sit there looking at us? I... I didn't want to say anything before...

Say what? Say what? I went over there, the only way out of the canyon. The rocks have blocked it off. I'm very much afraid we can't get out.

It's no use talking to me, Mr. Arno. But it's so dangerous. Dangerous? What is dangerous? I climb up, the rocks are like stairs. I pull up over the top and I'm out. Oh, but I insist it's dangerous. That tumble of rocks. Miss Wilkins, am I not right? Well, we just can't wait in here forever. And I'm sure that Mr. Kamara knows what he's doing. That is a very smart girl. Look at that wall. It is nothing. Oh, but I... Oh, you don't worry, Mr. Arno. I told you, the rocks along here like steps. I'm sure that Mr. Kamara knows what he's doing.

I climb up and I go and get help and soon I have you out of here. All you do is to help me up that first rock. Well, all right if you insist. Sure, sure. Put your hands together on the grip. Like that? That is right. I put my foot in your hand and you push up and give a boost, all right? Yes. All right. Hold your hands down. I get my foot...

Now, leave. Here we go. Ah, there. I'm up. So, I'm up here already. The rest of the way to climb is easy. What did I tell you? Be careful, Mr. Kamalin. Here I go. He is very strong, isn't he? What did you say, Miss Wilkinson?

He is very strong, isn't he? Oh, yes, yes, yes. Careful of loose rocks, Mr. Kamaran. I am all right. Test every handhold. Those rocks are loose. You get us out of here. I know he will. Yes, yes, he will. He...

He's up so high. Oh, yes, yes. I... I just can't watch anymore. Well, he... He only has a few more feet to go and... He'll be over the edge. You're doing very well, Mr. Kamarin. Sure, I told you. You, Kamarin, he always does. Mr. Kamarin, what... What's the matter with him? I don't know. He suddenly stopped talking. He isn't moving. Mr. Kamarin, what is the matter? What's the matter?

Mr. Kamarin! My arm! Cramp! I can't hold... Cramp in his arm. Hold on, Mr. Kamarin. I'll try to get up to you. Don't let go. I'll try to... Please let go! Mr. Kamarin. Mr. Kamarin. He...

He's dead. No. No, no, I don't think so. He lifted up his head. Oh. Mr. Cameron, what? I... I couldn't hold on. Don't move. No.

Listen. I don't tell you. Yes, yes. I'm listening. I... All... Broken. Will be dead. Will be dead. Die without telling. When I was boy...

Syria. Went hunting with my brother. He never came back. They thought he ran away. Not truth. Not truth.

I wanted his knife. So I killed him. I killed him. Buried him. I killed my brother. We leave our The Devil and Mr. O story for just a moment.

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. We return to the story of Nature Study. Miss Wilkins, where are you? Miss Wilkins, are you hiding? Miss Wilkins, are you hiding?

Miss Wilkins, you shouldn't have run away like that. You shouldn't. We'll work something out together. We'll get out of here. Oh, there you are. Why did you hide back here? Nothing's going to hurt you. Nothing.

You're wrong, you're wrong, you're wrong. What? I'll never get out. Never, never, never. But why should you say that? This canyon is well known. Sooner or later, any moment, someone will come along and see us down here. No, never, never, never. Now, that's no way to talk, Miss Wilkins. They are dead, aren't they? Aren't they? Don't think of them. I gotta think of them. They're me. Me. Me.

What are you talking about? You think I haven't got a brain in my head. You think I don't know what I'm talking about. Well, I do. I always do. I let everybody think I'm a fool, but I know more than you or anyone. And I know why they died. I know. Miss Wilkins, I don't know... I'm telling you. Listen to me. I'm telling you. I know why they died. Yes, of course. It was actually... Will you listen to me? All right. Miss Gard died. And she'd committed a murder. Yes. And Mr. Kamarin died. And he'd committed a murder. What?

Well? That's why I won't get out of here alive. I committed a murder, too. I committed a murder, too. That's... That's unbelievable. Oh, you're just saying things hysterically. No, no, not true. But you, well, how? Married. All I wanted to do was get married. What? What?

Mary Jane Ellis, we'd gone to school together. The same room in college, the same room when we came here to go to work. Always together. My best friend, everyone said my best friend, Dr. Joe. I met him first, then she met him. She said she didn't like him, but I knew she did. She did. At the party, I came into the room. His arms had been around her. I knew they had. He couldn't fool me. She couldn't fool me. It was her fault, not his. My best friend.

Joe was for me, not for her. He was thinking about her. He kept on thinking about her. Pretty all right, she was pretty, but he was for me, for me. And I'd lie there thinking if she was dead. If she was dead. She had to be dead. She had to be dead.

Miss Wilkins, for five years, I've known you for five years. What you're saying isn't true. I know it isn't. Your mind, all that's happened, you couldn't really... Shut up, Blanche! Just shut up! All right, Miss Wilkins.

You listen to me. I killed her. I killed her with poison. And I'm going to die the way they did. And there's nothing anyone can do about it. You're out of your mind. Now I know exactly what I'm saying and doing. Do you know how long I've waited for this moment, Mr. Arno? Five years. Five years.

Five years. Every night for five years. Every time I was alone in the dark. I've been waiting for this moment. I don't have to wait anymore. Why not?

Because it's here. Who? It's here in the canyon. Waiting. Waiting to kill me. There's no one here but you and me. They knew, and now I know. Well, I tell you, there's no one in this canyon but the two of us. And their bodies. What's over there? Oh, nothing but the shadow of a rock on the canyon wall.

It's not a shadow, Mr. Arno. What are you talking about? It's not a shadow, Mr. Arno. I see it plainly. It is a shadow. It's not a shadow, Mr. Arno. Why do you keep saying that? It's coming closer. The sun is getting lower in the sky. If it touches me, I'll die. Don't say that. The way they died. Stop talking nonsense. Get you out of here. Someone will come along. Up there! Up there!

Is there anyone up there? We're down in the canyon. Get us out of here. Now, you just sit there and relax until someone... Miss Wilkins. Miss Wilkins. Dead? Bottle? What? Poison. You killed yourself. Why? The shadow. Yes. Touching you.

Only a shadow. But is it? Someone... Someone get me out of here! Get me out of here! There. There we are. You lie there, Mr. Kamari. Miss Wilkins, Miss Gard, and now you, Mr. Kamari. Now, all of you lie there and listen to me.

It's getting quite dark. And while it's still light enough so that I can see you, I... I want to talk to you. Dead as you are, I've got to find something out. Listen to the wind. It's just come up. The wind. It moans around the rocks, but... I'm not moaning. You hear that, Miss Wilkins? I'm not. I'm just talking to you reasonably. It's been so many hours and...

Yet you hear, I'm talking reasonably. Please, please understand, my friends. I didn't mean for this to happen. I took you to Hidden Canyon to show you the lichens and the glacial action on the rocks. I didn't want you to die. And that's what I've got to talk to you about. Dead as you are. Why did you die? It was all quite accidental. Wasn't it, Miss Gard? Answer me, Miss Gard.

The rocks that crushed you, all quite accidental. It wasn't because you had committed a murder, was it? All quite accidental, wasn't it, Miss Gard? Wasn't it, Miss Gard? How strangely my voice echoes between the rock walls. I will talk to you, Mr. Kamara. You climbed up the rocks. A clamp in your arm. You couldn't hold on any longer. You fell. That was all accidental, wasn't it? Wasn't it? There's no reason for me to shout like that, is there?

How quiet it is. And dark. For years I've never been in the dark. At night, all the lights on in my house. I even sleep with the light on in the room. Never been in the dark for years. I'm in the dark at last. Alone. The three of you are dead. And so I'm alone. Who? Oh, a bird. An owl. Yes, of course, an owl.

Miss Wilkins, you shouldn't have taken that poison. You should have stayed alive to talk to me. As long as there's someone to talk to. When there's no one but the dead, that's a frightening thing. And I don't like the dark. And now I'm in the dark, alone. That's a frightening thing, yes. Oh, your faces. Why do I see your faces? It's the moonlight. How quickly the moonlight in your face. I...

I don't think I'm going to look at you. I'm going to sit here all through the night, my eyes closed. I will. I will. How long have I had my eyes shut? All night? Is there light against my eyes? I know it. All right. I will open my eyes. Moonlight. So bright. Filling the canyon. The walls. So very bright.

Shadow. Shadow on the wall. What? Moving along the wall. Shadow of what? Miss Wilkins. You said the shadow, Miss Wilkins. You, you, you're smiling. Mr. Kamau and you too. Miss Gard. All of you smiling. Is it the moonlight or are you really smiling? Why are you smiling? Why? All right.

I know. You know. All right. My eyes are open. And when the shadow touches me... When the shadow touches me... Who? Who? Who? Who's... Must have gone down here. Lights. People. Hello, down there. Anyone down there? Anyone? Yes. Yes. Mr. Camarron, who killed his brother...

Miss Goddard, who killed her husband. Miss Wilkins, who killed her... Yes. If I'm down here, come and get me. I've waited for you for 15 years. I murdered my wife. You hear me? I murdered my wife! This is Mr. O.R. Jobler. I want to tell you about our next chiller after a very short message.

See? See the leaf? Right here in my hand. Oh, yeah. Isn't that a new leaf? Yes, it is a new leaf. Here, I'm going to turn over a new leaf. Get it? Leaf? New? What does that mean, to turn over a new leaf? Well, in serious, it means that you're going to have a little change. From what to what?

from bad to good. Oh, really? Yeah. Well, suppose somebody was crying. They could switch from tears to a smile. Suppose they were lonely. They could go from loneliness to having somebody to play with. Well, suppose

Well, suppose somebody wasn't loved. Could they turn over a new leaf? They could go from not loving somebody to loving somebody. How do they do that? All they have to do is try to love somebody. Just try? Yeah. It's easy to love people when you try. Love makes all things new again. Hey, what was that? Another sound of love from the Franciscans. This is Miss Jo once more.

To those of you who have asked the title of my new book, it's called House on Fire. Next week, a play with a cast known to all you buffs of the golden days of radio. Frank Lovejoy and Paul Stewart in No Escape. A story to be listened to in the dark. It is later now.

Then you think. Adventures in time and space. Told in future tense. The National Broadcasting Company, in cooperation with Street and Smith, publishers of astounding science fiction, bring you...

Dimension X. It happened during a routine skirmish in the Great War. Patrols advanced from the defense perimeter under jet cover and proceeded by napalm throwers. The enemy defended in depth and mopped up with guided 98s fired from 40 miles to the rear. The blast area was 10 miles in circumference and the medics didn't find much to pick up over 500 yards in. Look out, it's slugging!

More, more. That left. More. Hold it. Stretchers. Come on, drivers, get those men out. Yes, sir. Get a move on. Line them up. Come on. Easy, easy. You want to kill them? Okay, take it away. They might have left these Joes where they were.

Half of them won't last till the plane comes. As long as they're alive, they'll be treated. Get off the tags, Travis. Start talking names. Yes, sir. This one must have been a thousand yards in. Get his dog tag out. What a mess. Here. Hartley Allen, Captain G5 Chem Research, AN73D, number SO23869403J. Allen Hartley? Allen Hartley. That could be the hunter that wrote Children of the Mist and Conqueror's Road. Never heard of him. Major, I think maybe he's part-conscious.

Maybe I should give him another shot? Go ahead, Sergeant. There isn't much else we can do for him. It's a rotten shame. Ain't it always. Okay, Captain, give me your arm. There. Alan! Alan! Look out! Down! Down! Get up, Alan! You can't stay in bed all day! I remember that.

Clear as if it were real. Up and at them. Hit the deck. Remarkably vivid. Alan, are you all right? I'm all right. What's wrong with my voice? It's too high.

What are you doing? Practicing singing? My voice has changed. Is that all? You're growing up. Happy birthday, son. Happy birthday? Hey, wake up, son. Wake up. I am awake. Come on, out of bed. I don't understand. Breakfast waiting. Out of bed or I'll turn it over. All right, all right. It's a dream. Maybe, but you're wide awake now.

I am awake now. Well, half awake anyway. That's the Bellas-Saint-Boniface, isn't it? What day is it? Are you kidding? You forget today's your birthday? No. No, I didn't forget. Neither did I. Here, son. Happy 13th birthday. You won't guess what's in here. A rifle. A light .22 rifle. How'd you know that? I remembered. Did I spill the beans sometime?

I could have sworn it'd be a surprise. Well, go on, open it. Like it? Yeah. Yeah. It's perfect, Dad. I'll be shaving, Alan. Come down to breakfast when you're ready. It's a big day today. You're almost a man. Almost. You're still groggy. Snap out of it, Alan. I will. There's a dream in it somewhere, but I'm not sure which. What?

Never mind, Dad. I'll be right down for breakfast. Now for coffee. Mrs. Stauber makes the best in town. Black for me.

What? Oh, I mean... You may be 13, Alan, but they're still a little young for coffee, especially black. Oh, I wasn't thinking. What are you going to do today, son? I want to do some reading this morning, I guess. That's always a good thing to do. After breakfast, suppose you take a walk down to the station and get me a Times. Didn't it come? What, the Times? They don't deliver. Be a good idea, though. Maybe I'll talk to Sam Ashburn about it. Here's a half dollar, Alan. Get anything you want for yourself out of the change.

Thanks, Dad. Finish your milk before you go. Oh, sure, Dad. And hurry back. I like to finish the crossword puzzle before lunch.

Here you are, Alan. One times. Tell your father the puzzle's a stinker. Thanks, Mr. Ashburn. Look out for the trucks when you cross the highway. Oh, I'll go across Elton's lot shortcut. Elton's? You'll have a hard time crossing there, son. There's four buildings on that block. I thought they burned down. Seen them this morning. Big as life. Oh, I guess that didn't happen yet.

What'd you say? Oh, nothing, Mr. Ashburn. I was just muttering. In my days, youngsters talked up. Yes, sir. Bye, Mr. Ashburn. Monday, August 6th, 1945. Okinawa 1, bombing Japan. Hey! Hey, Alan, right up!

Larry Morton. Hiya, Larry. Hi, Al. Hey, you want to have a catch or something? No, I have some things I want to do at home. Wow, get him. Fancy pants talk. Things I want to do at home. Oh, go chase yourself around the block. Go jump in a garbage can, will you? Go take a flying jet to the moon. Hey, that's a new one. A flying jet to the moon. Hey, you thought up a new one, Al. Yeah. Yeah.

Hey, how about us going swimming at the canoe club, Zaffer? Gee, I wish I could. I gotta stay home. Zaffer. You see the football movie at the Grand? Boy, what a team. Notre Dame. I thought you liked Cornell. Cornell? Ha, they couldn't even beat Vassar. You're going to Cornell, aren't you? Me? Cornell? Fat chance.

I'll bet you do. I wouldn't take your money. I know you wouldn't. You'll go to Cornell, all right. Ha, ha. Cornell. Far above Cayuga's waters, there's an awful smell. Just the same. You'll go to Cornell. I've got to hurry, Larry. Well, so long, Al. See ya. So long, Larry. See ya.

I'm stuck in this corner. A seven-letter word to mix in proportion. Titrate. Huh? T-I-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-R-A-T-

They must be raising the devil with those bombing raids in Japan. How long do you think the war in Japan will last, Dad? Oh, I'd say the middle of 1946. We'll have to invade those islands foot by foot. I wouldn't be surprised if the war was over very suddenly. How? By magic? There is no thing on earth that will make those Japanese surrender.

You expect somebody to make a pass and it'll be all over by this afternoon? That's just about it. Mr. Hartley, excuse me. Could I see you for a minute? Oh, hello, Mr. Gottschall. Sure. That's Frank Gottschall, Dad? That's right. Excuse me. Didn't mean to disturb you, Mr. Hartley. That's quite all right. It's a lovely day, isn't it, Mr. Gottschall? The Lord's world is always beautiful. Of course, Mr. Gottschall. Absolutely.

Mr. Hartley, I wonder if you could lend me a gun and some bullets. My little dog's been hurt and it's been suffering something terrible. Oh, that's too bad. I want a gun to put the poor thing out of its pain. Of course. How would a 20-gauge shotgun do? You wouldn't want anything heavy. I was hoping you'd let me have a little gun. Maybe so big. A pistol? So I could put it in my pocket. Wouldn't look right for a godly man to carry a hunting gun through town.

I don't hold with killing innocent creatures. People wouldn't understand that it was for a work of mercy. Of course I understand. You're a very religious man. The whole world is evil, Mr. Hartley. Sometimes it certainly looks like it. Well, I have a Colt 38 special from the auxiliary police out there. That's fine, fine. You'll have to bring it right back, Mr. Gottschall. I might be called out. Dad, Dad, wait a minute. I just remembered. Remembered what, son? Oh.

Aren't there some cartridges left for the Luger? Then you wouldn't be without the coat. That's right. I've got a German automatic, Mr. Gottschall, I can let you have. That way I wouldn't get stuck. Wait, Dad, I'll get it. I know where the cartridges are. Now be careful, son. Well, Mr. Gottschall, it sure turned out nice after all that rain. THE END

Hello, police headquarters? Um, this is Blake Hartley. Uh, Frank Gutshaw, who lives on Campbell Street, has just borrowed a gun from me ostensibly to shoot a dog. What? No, he has no dog. He intends shooting his wife. Yes, I'll take out the firing pin. He'll walk home. If you hurry, you can get a man there in time. Right.

Oh, there you are. What kept you, Ellen? I couldn't find the cartridges at first. I'll show Mr. Guttschall how it works. It's all loaded, ready to shoot. This is the safe. Dean, just push it forward and up. There are eight shots in it. Did you load the chamber, Ellen? Oh, sure. It's unsafe now. You?

You understand how it works, Mr. Gutshaw. Yes, yes, I understand. Thank you, Mr. Hartley. Thank you, Sandy. Goodbye. Goodbye, Mr. Gutshaw. Return the gun when you're done. Yes, I'll be done with it soon. Goodbye. Alan, you shouldn't have loaded that gun. I guess it's all over now. I had to keep you from fooling with it. Didn't want you to see I took out the firing pin. You what?

Cacho didn't want that gun to shoot a dog. He's a fanatic. He sees visions, hears voices. The voices probably put him up to this. I'll submit that any man who holds intimate conversations with disembodied spirits isn't to be trusted with a gun. He wants to shoot his wife. What are you talking about? While I was upstairs, I called the police. I put a handkerchief over my mouth and told them I was you. You...

Why'd you have to do that? I couldn't have told him. This is little Alan Hartley, 13 years old. And suppose he really wants to shoot a dog. What kind of a mess will I be in then? No mess, because I might. But you'll have to front for me. They give me a lot of cheap boy hero publicity, which I don't want. This is crazy, Alan. This is absolutely crazy. We'll have the complete returns in 20 minutes. ♪♪

Mr. Hartley, Mr. Blake Hartley. That's right. I'm Detective Sergeant Kaborski from Homicide. Here's your luger. Thank you. I don't know how you spotted that guy, but when we busted in, he was pointing that gun at his wife, swearing a blue street, because it wouldn't go off. Well, I'm glad I was able to help. They may have some kind of citation, Mr. Hartley. Oh, I don't think that's necessary. Well, in the department, we figure a little publicity never hurt nobody.

Even a lawyer, huh? I really prefer to have it kept quiet. Well, whatever you say. We'll want you to drop around in the morning for a statement. I'll be glad to. Well, thanks, Mr. Hartley. Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye, Sonny. Goodbye, Sergeant. Why don't you take the citation, Dad? Well, you were right. You saved that woman's life. Let's see you put back the firing pin. Sure. There.

Suppose we have a little talk. But I explained everything. You did not. Yesterday, you wouldn't even have known how to take this pistol apart. Today, you've been using language and expressing ideas that are outside of everything you've ever known before. Now I want to know. I hope you're not toying with the medieval notion of obsession. What? You say I'm changed. When did you first notice this? Last night, you were still my little boy.

This morning, I don't know. You've been strange all day. Alan, what's happened to you? I wish I could be sure myself, Dad. You see, when I woke up this morning, all I could remember was lying on a stretcher injured by a bomb explosion. I was 43 years old and the year was 1975. 1975? That's right. You'll be 43 in 1975. But...

A bomb? Yes, during the siege of Buffalo in the Third World War. I was the captain in G5 scientific warfare, general staff. Buffalo? You mean Buffalo, New York? Yes, there had been a trans-polar invasion of Canada. I was sent to the front to check on service failures of a new lubricating oil. I got hit by a bomb blast. I remember being picked up and getting a narcotic injection.

The next thing I knew, I was in bed upstairs and it was 1945 again. And I was back in my own 13-year-old body. Alan, you just had a nightmare to end all nightmares, that's all. I thought it might be that at first, but I rejected it. It wouldn't fit the facts. But it's ridiculous. All this Battle of Buffalo stuff. You picked it up listening to the radio.

All the commentators have been going on about another war after this one. You've just got an undigested chunk of H.V. Calvin born in your subconscious. But that isn't everything. I remember four years of high school, four years at Cornell, seven years as a reporter on the Philadelphia Record, three novels, Children of the Mist, Rose of Death, and Conqueror's Road. I wrote detective stories under a phony name. I worked in chemistry.

You think a 13-year-old can dream up all that stuff? But it's the only possible explanation. Maybe. But I can speak five languages today that I couldn't yesterday. French, German, Chinese, Russian, and Spanish. Although I've got a Mexican accent you could cut with a knife. But... But how did it happen? I can't believe it. All I know is here I am.

I've been reading up on time theories. Nobody seems to know much about them. Evidently, time exists parallel as another dimension. And I've got kicked backwards somehow. But how? It may have been the radiation from the bomb. Or the narcotic injection. Or both together. But the fact remains I'm here with full knowledge of my future identity. This is quite a shock, Alan.

But you do believe me, don't you? Yes, I suppose I must. You seem so strange as if you weren't my son. I'm your son, all right. The same body as yesterday. I've just had an educational shortcut. Wait a minute.

If you can remember the next 30 years, suppose you tell me when the war is going to end. This one against the Japs, I mean. Sure. The Japanese surrender will be announced at exactly 7 or 1 p.m. on August 14th, a week from Tuesday. Better make sure we have plenty of grub in the house by then. Everything will be closed up tight till Thursday morning. Even the restaurants.

I remember we had nothing to eat in the house but some scraps. Tuesday week? That's pretty sudden, isn't it? Not after today. What do you mean? What happened today? Plenty. What time is it, Dad? Um...

1116. Is your watch right? To the second. Why? It'll come in exactly 111740. What'll come? The radio announcement. What are you getting at? Something important on the radio? We'll see. Don't bother, Dad. It won't work. I remember we had a tube burned out. There is something wrong. What is this announcement of yours? I memorized it in journalism school at Columbia in 1954. What time is it? 1118.

They're breaking into the programs now. President Truman has just announced that an atomic bomb has been dropped on the Japanese industrial city of Hiroshima. The bomb was dropped 16 hours ago, and the announcement was delayed to ascertain the results of the explosion. A man named John Howard Peterson read the announcement from the Washington newsroom of NBC. I don't believe it. No? Listen...

That's the Burt Plate factory whistle and the bells at St. Boniface. Next, the whistle at the volunteer firehouse. And it's true. It is true. Sure. Then Larry Morton came by on his bicycle. Hey! Hey, Al, you hear? You hear about the bomb? An atomic bomb! Yeah, we heard! Boy, atomic bomb! Oh, boy! I gotta go find my pop. He's on the golf course. Bye, Al. Bye, Mr. Hartley. You knew...

You knew about it? The next bomb hit Snackersacky. I thought that stuff about atomic energy was so much fantasy. Was that the kind of bomb that got you? That was a firecracker compared to the one that got me. It was a guided 98. It exploded 10 miles away. And that's going to happen in 30 years? I remember it. How about... Well, how about me? Oh, wait. Never mind. I...

Don't think I better know when I'm going to die. I couldn't tell you anyway. I had a letter from you just before I left for the front. You were 78 then, and you were still hunting and fishing and flying your own plane. But another war and fought on American soil. Alan, I wish this hadn't happened to you. It happened. I remember it.

But if I can help it, I'm not going to get killed in any battle of Buffalo. But if you remember it, if time exists as a parallel dimension, then every tick we're getting closer to that third world war. Dad, you know what I remembered when Gutcho came to borrow that gun? I suppose that you suspected him and warned me. No, no, that wasn't it. The other time, the first time, when I was really 13. I wasn't home. I'd been swimming at the canoe club with Larry Morton.

When I got home about half an hour from now, I found the house full of cops. What if the gun didn't fire? What makes you think it didn't? That Joe talked the 38 out of you. Went home, shot his wife four times in the body, once behind the ear, and used the sixth shot to blow his own brains out. That's what you remember? Yes, but now it hasn't happened because I warned you.

Dad, I found out the future can be changed. One man can't change the whole future. I stopped the murder and the suicide. I know some, but... With 30 years to work, I can stop a world war. I'll have the means. The means? Unlimited wealth and influence. I've got a good memory, Dad. Wrote a list out this afternoon. Look at this. Assault, jet pilot, citation, ponder, middle ground, counter... What is this, code?

Horses. That's a list of Kentucky Derby winners from 1946 to 1970. You sure? I learned that list on a bet at the Officers Club in Cincinnati in 1971. A salt paid 8 to 1. You figure out what we can take in. Oh, but gambling... This isn't gambling. It's a sure thing. When we get rolling, we'll make the Rockefellers look like pikers. A salt at 8 to 1. I suppose I could scrape up $5,000.

In ten years, that'll make a lot of money. Any other little thing you have in mind, Alan? By 1952, we start building a political organization here in Pennsylvania. In 1960, I think we can elect you president. Of course, I... President? Isn't that going a little too far? Why not? Who wouldn't vote for a politician who was always right? Besides, that's one thing we've got to change.

In 1960, we had a man in the White House who was good to his wife and sang a nice tenor. And that's about all. He fouled up so completely, we ended up at war. I think President Hartley might be a little more trusted to take a strong line. Well, I don't know anything about international decisions. I do. I know all the wrong ones. If we can stop a murder, with time we can stop a war.

How do I start? Well, as I remember, just after that bomb announcement, you got a phone call from the city fusion party about the next election. Well, there's a lot of talk about a reform ticket. That call is going to be important, Dad. It's the turning point. You've got... There it is. What do I do? Answer it. Go ahead. But, Alan, I... Don't worry. I'll tell you what to say. Go ahead. Hello? Hello?

Yes, this is Blake Hartley. Judge Crimmins? Well, uh, just a moment. Alan, he's asking me to run. Oh, oh, my head. Alan, Alan, what's the matter? Alan? Oh. He passed out. Alan, what do I do now? Alan, listen to me. Alan, Alan, what's the matter? Alan! Alan!

Captain Hartley. Captain Hartley. Captain Hartley. He was all right, Doctor. I gave him the shot and he was all right. He's dead. All right, Sergeant, make up the tag. Yes, sir. Hartley, Allen, Captain. Dead August 8th, 1975. Captain Hartley.

Alan, Alan, what happened? Alan, Alan. Huh? Alan, are you all right? Hi, Dad. I've got Judge Crimmins on the phone. What do I tell him? What? Alan, are you all right? You passed out. Sure, I'm all right.

Hey, today's my birthday, isn't it? What did you get me, Dad? What did you get me? Alan, are you all right? Sure, I'm okay. What did you get for my birthday, huh? Don't you remember the Third World War? What Third World War? Gee, Dad, what's the matter? You're looking at me funny. Judge Crimmins, I'll have to call you back. Goodbye. You don't remember. You're back again, aren't you?

Back to 13 years old. Sure, I'm 13 today. For corn's sake, Dad. You must have died up there. It was only a mine transfer. That means now I'm on my own. I have to do it myself without your help. Help for what? Oh, if it's the grass, I said I'd cut it tomorrow. No, no, it isn't the grass. I've got to save your life, Alan.

I can't let you die that way in 1975. What are you talking about, Dad? You sound goofy. I've got to change it all by myself. Change what? Never mind, Alan. You don't know yet. Come on. Let's have lunch. Sure, Dad. Hey, how about my prisoner? What did you get me for my birthday? Hey, in a minute, son. Go on in. Hurry up, Dad. All right. Now, where did I put that list of horses? Oh.

You have just heard another adventure into the unknown world of the future. The world of... Dimension. Homecoming is a joyous word. But when the home you're returning to is a burned-out, radioactive planet, and when you cannot even imagine what terrible changes you will find there...

The word then takes on a very different meaning. Next week, Dimension X brings you a strange story called Dwellers in Silence. Dimension X is brought to you each week by the National Broadcasting Company in cooperation with Street & Smith, publishers of the magazine Astounding Science Fiction. Today, Dimension X is presented time and time again

Written for radio by Ernest Canoy. And the story by H. Beam Piper. Featured in the cast were David Anderson as Alan and Joseph Curtin as his dad. Your host was Norman Rose. Music by Albert Berman. Dimension X is produced by William Welch and directed by Fred Way. Adam Hatch presents...

The Strange Doctor Weird. Good evening. Come in, won't you? Why, what's the matter? Surely you're not nervous. Perhaps it will calm you if I tell you a story. It's a rather odd story about a rather odd individual.

You see, he was a morgue keeper. I call his story, The Man Who Talked With Death. My story, The Man Who Talked With Death, begins in the city morgue on a raw autumn evening.

Two men have just entered the badly lighted basement of the gloomy stone building. I don't know whether it's cold in here or outside. Where's Pop Hanson? I want to get my pictures. Get out of here. This place gives me the creeps. If Paul pops around someplace, he probably... Hey, is that him? Did he talk to somebody down there by the icebox and try to keep us stiff? Yeah. Yeah.

Why is nobody there? Pop's talking to himself. Unless he's talking to a ghost. Come on. Yes, you know, there is someplace else to go on to, but it's not a place you have to be frightened or beneath.

Now it's time for you to go. Goodbye, Gene. Goodbye. Hey, Pop. Oh, hello, boys. I didn't hear you come in. Huh? Hey, Pop, who are you just talking to? Oh, that was Gene Williams. He came in last night. What do you mean, she came in last night? I mean her body was brought in. Here, I sure know. There she is.

So young and so pretty. No wonder she was frightened when she found she was dead, if they were talking to her. Why, yes, Harry, you see, when you die, a part of you goes on to someplace else. But it always stays near its body for a while till it gets used to things.

It was that gene with you that I was just talking to, of course. Pop, you've been working down here among these steps too long. You mean I just imagine I talk to them and they talk to me? No, Tom. It's really true. Someday you'll know I'm telling the truth. Well, maybe. Let's stand the chatter. I want to get the picture of John Wainwright. Wainwright? Yes, they brought him in last night. Everybody who dies a violent death comes here for old Pop to talk to, isn't he?

Yeah, here he is. Okay, Harry, get yourself a couple of pictures and we'll be gone. No, it won't take a minute. I sure would like to know who killed Wainwright. The killer didn't leave a clue. Why, if it's that young professor Higgins who shot Wainwright, Tom. Higgins? The pride and joy of the city university? How'd you know? Wainwright told me so himself. Wainwright told you? What are you giving me? The truth.

You see, he was a blackmailer and he was blackmailing Higgins' wife. Professor Higgins had to kill him to save her. Wainwright told me so just before he left a little while ago. But Wainwright's dead. There's his body right there on the iPod. I know. I explained about that. Oh, you're crazy. But I'm not, Tom.

Wainwright even told me that the gun Professor Higgins used is hidden now in the left-hand bottom drawer of the professor's desk in his home out at the university. Okay, Tom, it's grand now. Just a second. Pop.

I don't know why you got your tip, but I'm going to look into this. Oh, no. You mustn't. You seek on the things that the dead tell me. They can't be used in any way by the living. It's too dangerous to the living. They just can't be used. Well, it can if it's true. If Higgins killed Wainwright and I can prove it, boy, what a story it'll make. No, Tom, you mustn't try to prove it. It'll do you no good. Try and stop me. Come on, Harry. Come on.

Thanks very much, Dean. Goodbye. There you are, gentlemen. You've just talked to the dean himself on the phone, and he's told you I was playing cards at his home at 11 o'clock last night. Does that satisfy you? Yes, Professor Higgins. Wainwright was shot at 11, so the alibi lets you out.

Who in the world ever suggested that it was I who shot Mr. Wainwright? Nobody in the world, Professor. It was a ghost. Wainwright's ghost. I'm afraid I don't understand. Oh, it's just a gag, Professor. Thanks. Come on, Harry. Let's get back to town. I told you the whole thing was a wild goose chase.

You mean you really believe that crazy stuff Pop told us about talking to Wainwright's ghost? No, of course not. But I thought maybe Pop knew something and was trying to give us a tip without admitting it. Say, wait a bit, huh? What is it? Higgins is a smart guy. Maybe that alibi was fake. Oh, now, Tom. Pop said the murder gun was hidden in Higgins' desk. I think we ought to go back and search that desk. Oh, but that's crazy.

Hey. Hey, Tom, what are you doing? Just putting on a break. I'm going to turn around and go back. Yeah, but the road's all wet here. Hey, Tom, we're kidding. I'll get us out of it. Yeah, there's a 100-foot drop under the gully there. Keep it up. Yeah, Tom, we're going over. Jump, Tom. Jump, Tom.

While my goose pimples go away and we all wait to learn what happens next, I'd like to ask Dr. Weird a question. Yes, yes, young man. I'm all ears. Well, point them the other way, please. And answer me this. One of our listeners wants to know why you're on the air only 15 minutes instead of a half hour. If we can scare people half to death in 15 minutes...

Why take twice as long? Very logical, Doctor. The Adam Hat people use similar logic in their business. Take the famous Adam 5, just for instance. Their feeling is, if we can deliver real hat quality for $5, why charge twice as much?

and go on with Adam hats in every price range. Every Adam hat might well sell for more. Master craftsmen design every Adam style, up to the minute in fashion, correct in the best that could take. Go into the nearest Adam hat store and look around a bit. Try on a few that strike your fancy. You'll find perfect fit, perfect style, and perfect price. And Adam does something for a man.

Now, Dr. Weird. Now I'll continue my story of the man who talked his death.

It's a few moments after the crash, and Tom and Harry are picking themselves off the ground on the very edge of the deep gully into which their car is just flying. Harry! Harry, where are you? Over here. I'm just making sure I'm still on one piece. How about you? I'm all right, I guess. It's a miracle we weren't both killed.

Look at the car down there. Folded up like an accordion. Yeah, he got the car door open. I thought it was going over. Must have opened the room clearly. Now what are we going to do? We're going back to the university. And we're going to get into Higgins' office and see if the murder gun is really there in his desk. Pop was just talking nonsense when he said we'd find it there, Tom. Maybe and maybe not. I don't believe in his little conversations with ghosts, but I do believe he knows something. And if he does, I'm going to crack this case.

A short time later, Tom and Harry reached Professor Higgins' residence again and gained entrance to his office unseen through an open window. Okay, here's the desk. Which door did Pop say? On the bottom left-hand one. Let me see the one, then. It's open.

And there is a gun here. Look. Yeah. 45 automatic. And Pop was right. You bet he was. He was also right when he said Professor Higgins shot Swain like Higgins' fake developer. Here, I'll get the gun out. No, don't touch it. The cops will have to find the gun here in this desk to be convinced it really belongs to Higgins. Yeah, of course. Call him and get him out. No, no, not yet. We're going back to the morgue and ask Pop a few questions. Back to the morgue? Tom, listen.

You suppose Wainwright really could have told Pop all this after he was dead? Of course not. That stuff of talking to the stiff is a lot of malarkey. Pop knows something, and he's hiding it. We're going to find out what he knows and how, and then we're going to break the biggest story this town has ever seen. Slipping away in the darkness, Tom and Harry tried vainly to summarize back to the city. In the end, they had to walk the whole distance.

And it was well after midnight when they once more stood outside the cold, gray, morgue building. Oh, what a night. I've never walked so far in my life. Hey, why do you suppose those drivers wouldn't stop and give us a lift? I don't know. I guess they're afraid of a stick-up. Well, let's get inside and give Pop the old third grade. Yeah, I wish we didn't have to. I'd hate to go in there again, Tom, but...

Wait a second. Oh, come on. We're the lucky ones. We can walk out again. Hey, somebody's left the door open. Come on in. Tom. Tom, I'm frightened. I don't want to go in there where they keep the bodies. I just don't want to. Oh, you're acting like a kid. Now, come on.

There's Pop over there by the iceboxes. Oh, Pop. Oh, hello, boys. I've been kind of expecting to see you, too. Pop, we want to ask you some questions. Tom, you went out to talk to Professor Higgins, didn't you? And I asked him not to. I told you it wouldn't do you any good. Not any good at all. Oh, but it did.

We found the gun just where you said it would be. Boy, what a story this town's going to read tomorrow morning. No, they'll never read it. The Wainwright shooting's never going to be cleared up. It's always going to be a mystery. It has to be that way. Pop, how do you know about Higgins and that gun?

Don't you realize yet I was telling you the truth that Wainwright himself told me after they brought his body here? Tom, I think Pop's telling the truth. Well, you may be crazy, but I'm not. Now, Pop, come clean. I should never have told you, Tom. That caused all your trouble. I'm sorry, Tom. I'm awful sorry, but...

I warned you not to go, remember? If you hadn't, it would never have happened. What are you talking about? What would never have happened? I think I know what that means. I think I know. Oh, you do, Harry.

Tom will understand in a minute, too. Look, Tom. Look here. Our two bodies sadly smashed up. Well, so what, huh? Don't you know now? It's true. Bob really can talk to the dead. He really can. That's why he can talk to us. Harry, get a hold of yourself. What's the matter with Tom? Those two bodies, they're ours. We're both dead. We were killed when our car crashed into the ravine. Tom!

So Puff could talk to the dead after all. At least Tom and Harry found the proof. Very convincing. But if you find it hard to believe...

Why not drop in at the morgue and see for yourself? Of course, you'd have to go there as a dead body. But we could easily arrange that. And... Oh, you're leaving now. Well, perhaps you'll drop in again soon. I'm always home. Just look for a house on the other side of the cemetery. The house of Dr. Weird.

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Get three-five. Get the face. A car travels fast through the clinging fog. Too fast for safety. It is midnight and Jim Harker is driving. Lucy, Jim's wife, sits nervously beside him. They are coming home from a party.

Now the party is over. There is nothing but the road and the speed and the opaque wall of the headlamp staring back from the tendrils of the park. You're driving much too fast, Jim. Oh, not at all.

But... Shall I drive, darling? Now, look, Lucy, you worry far too much. I'm a magnificent driver. Yes, Jim, I know, but if you were caught driving so far, you know you've had a drink or two. I'm worried I'm perfectly all right. Yes, dear, but the police might not think so. We won't be caught anyway. I'm never caught. I know this road like the back of my hand. Jim, I do wish you'd let me drive. I'm frightened, honestly. I know what I'm doing, my dear. What's that? What, what, Lucy? There. Hear it now.

I'm so sorry. Somebody's after me. Now, just watch the old monster. No, Jim, stop. Please stop. Not on your life. No, this is what I've been waiting for. I'm up to 90 now. Can you see the chap following us? Yes, he's a fog of a bit thinner. It's a policeman on a motorbike. Jim, carry on with us, Jim. Please stop. No chance now, dear. They'll tell me, Lindsay. I've got to lose him. He's turning on me. Oh, Jim, stop. He won't care, boss. He's overtaking. Please, Jim.

Pull over, I tell you, pull over! Thank you, Father. Let's see what he'll do now. Oh, dear. Oh, I'll have to stop that first. Jim, look out! Oh, you fool, you crazy fool!

You all right, Lucy? Yes, it's all right. You'd better have a look at the policeman, Jim. Oh, good. It wasn't my fault. You saw it happen. Please, try to help him. I didn't mean... Oh, yes, you're right. Hey, you all right?

Helen! Are you... Oh, good God. He's dead. Lucy! Lucy! What is it, Jim? It's terrible. I can't believe it. I'll drive on a ring for an ambulance from the first telephone. It's no good, Lucy. He's dead.

Oh, Jim, what have you done? I didn't do anything. The bike sort of wobbled and hit me. I didn't hit Jim. He was driving too fast. We must get the police right away. I'd better straighten out the wing on the car. There. You're able to go now. I'll just pull this poor Jim's body off the road. Oh!

Oh, Lucy. Oh, this is terrible. That's the worst thing that ever happened to me. Well, Lucy, you couldn't help it. It wasn't your fault. Oh, yes, it was. I was coming home from a party, playing the fool up. No, I didn't mean it. I didn't intend to kill anybody. That's how it turned out. No. No, it's my fault, all right. Well, what will they do to you? I don't know. Jail, I spent jail for years.

All the things we've worked for and slaved for all these years have gone down the drain. Oh, Jimmy, it doesn't seem right. The minute I get into that police station, I'm sunk. Lucy, Lucy, I'm not going. You mean not go to the police? But you must. Look, I can't help this poor chap. He's dead. Harder they punish me, it won't alter that.

If we get out of here now, they'll never find us. We'll be home in a few minutes. Jim, if they do find you, then... I've got the plate. Into the car. Oh.

Oh, what a hangover. Give me some more coffee, please, Lucy. There you are. Jim, you know, I've been thinking it over. We should have gone to the police. Oh, no, don't start that now. It's too late. Well, the police have ways of finding things out. They'll be watching you all the time. Do you think I'd thought of that? The car's a blue Stamway saloon. It's like every other blue Stamway saloon on the road.

I'm going to buy another one, just the same. I can afford it, and then change the number plate, and hey, presto. And the other car, ours? I mean, the damaged one? Well, it's lucky I'm mechanically minded. I can strip it for spares, and then dump it. You know, Jim, we're becoming criminals. But what do you want me to do? Face the charge of murder? Murder? Of course. It's only so I didn't hit that cop on purpose. Nothing. I ran away. I mean, the lifeless charge would be culpable homicide.

Good.

The End

Lucy! Hey, Lucy! Oh, hello, Jim. What happened? I've got a car, Lucy. We're safe. Same make, same year, same model. It's got the same amount of mileage on the speedometer. Well, within a few hundred. Oh, Jim, that's wonderful. And you're sure we're safe? Of course we're safe. I'll just run the new car into the garage and change the plates over now. Jim, you must always drive carefully in future. Don't worry about that.

You know, a funny thing happened on the way home. I was behaving myself like a good boy when, coming along the stretch of the road where, you know, where it happened, I had a motorbike behind me. I didn't think much of it. I didn't even look in the mirror.

And then the siren began. I was going slow. Oh, I knew it was all too good to be true. Did he catch you in the new car? Oh, no, no, no, no, no. I hope. I don't think he was even after me because he must have turned off somewhere. That's a coincidence. But there isn't any way he could turn off on that stretch of road. Only the trees on one side and millers far and beyond. No.

On the other side of the brick field. Well, I suppose he must have found some other motorist to charge. Well, that'll turn around. It was a weird coincidence, that's all. Approximately 100 yards. You got that? Yes, Mr. Finkley. New paragraph.

The motorcycle appears to have swerved towards the car and struck first with the rear side handlebars. Full stop. There are traces of blue paint on the hand grip and the tank of the cycle. Yes.

The small quantity of paint collected was sent to the forensic laboratories

for testing. The paint formula indicates that it appears to have come from a Stanway car, about two years old, signed Inspector Harold Patrick Staggert.

There you go, sir. Yes. We'll find out who killed poor old Tanner is the last thing we do. Some drunken fool coming home from a party, that's my guess. Had an accident with Tanner and didn't have the guts to report it. Yes, it's a bad business, sir. It is. It's a bad, dirty business. Now the driver of that blue Stanway will be too scared to come forward. Do you think we can get him, sir? He must live in this section of town beyond Miller's Farm. You can tell that from the direction of which he was travelling. Yes.

No out-of-town car would use that road, so what we need is patience, and plenty of it. I'll go to every house if necessary. In the meantime, that killer's suffering, Constable. He's a scared man, not a crook, an ordinary sort of fellow. I'll tell you one thing. I wouldn't have his conscience for all the tea in China. Oh!

I'm going to go home now, Lizzie. Yes, Jim. Anything for me? Well, I was wondering if it was safe to use this car. Of course it's safe. Forget all that nonsense. Oh, look. There are thousands of Stamway saloons on the road. Half of them are blue. Luckily, I've got a bit of mechanical inability, so I've even changed the engine over.

Let's say, check the chassis number which faces Howard's. They won't do that. Oh, I wish there was another way we could come home. I hate travelling over this next bit of road. You'd have to come home this way to forget it. Look at crying over spilt milk. If I could have helped the bloke, OK, I'd have helped him, but I couldn't. He was dead. What was that? It happened just along here, didn't it? Yes, along here. Up there. That's what, Chip. That's Farron's.

I can't see anything behind, can you? But there's nothing, Jim. Nothing at all. But the sorrow that... That cop must be somewhere. He's craving on us. Jim, it's quite quiet. There isn't any sorrow. I swear there isn't. Get 3-5. Get the taste. 3-5 by State Express. Get the taste of international success. The taste that's uniquely 3-5.

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Well, well, well. Poor old Jim. Fancy hearing ghostly sirens. Is it his imagination? Is it his conscience? He seems convinced he heard.

I heard it, I tell you, Lucy. I heard the siren. That was just your imagination. No, no, I won't have that. I heard the siren, I tell you. It doesn't make sense, the ghost of a motorbike. It's only your imagination, Jim. We've got to move. I'll lose a bit of cash on the house, but not too much. You think this haunting or whatever it is only happens on that one stretch of the road? I don't want to move away from here, Jim. We've got to. Every time I go along that road, I hear the siren.

I don't know if it's a ghost or my conscience or what, but I hear it. It's driving me mad. Well, you know best, Jim. We have to move. We have to, I suppose. That'll go crazy. Let him haul that stretch of road. I'm moving elsewhere. I'm moving elsewhere.

We bought on those tyres we'd just come into. They were skid marks and quite suddenly a set of tyre prints as he stopped braking. There we are, a Metropolis tyre on the near side front and an almost bull tyre on the off side front. Yes, and a pair of Mitre Kings on the two rear wheels. Now you and I are going round the district east of here looking at Stanway cars. We're looking for scratches or new paintwork and especially at the tyres. But he'd have changed them, wouldn't he, sir? Maybe. Maybe.

We'll consult the dealers, too. Find out who swapped a new Metropolis tyre on a Stanway for an old tyre. And if a note was taken of the number. That's an idea. We'll try to get talking with the owners of Stanway cars and watch them. And their families. Someone's going to give something away, perhaps even by the manner. We're going to watch for a giveaway look, an expression, anything. I don't know. But the break must come. You're determined to find the blight, aren't you? Yes. Tanner had a wife and kids. He was a good cop.

That's epitaph enough for him. Yes, I'll find the rat who killed him. It may take time, but I shall find him. Now, just listen to this. Four bedrooms, one old suite, lounge and dining room, American kitchen, old usual office. Well, it sounds all right, Jim. Where is it? Crosswood Park, at the other side of the city. I wonder if it's handy. Near the shop, that sort of thing.

Some of these houses are out in the wilderness, you know. Oh, well, the rent's all right. Beggars can't be choosers. I don't know if I hear that. Sorry, much more. I'll soon be a mental case. Who's that? Where? Oh, you're as jumpy as a kitten. Hey, save it. It's the cops at the police car. Perhaps they've come about something else. Well, damn the traffic cops, all right. Coming here. Oh, Jim. What will we do? Open the door. Keep your head. I can't. Open the door. They've got nothing on us. All right, Jim. All right.

Yes? Well, my name is Holland, madam. I'm Inspector Holland of Traffic Detail, and this is my bottom card. Well, I don't see how we can help. I am investigating the death of one of my officers, a man by the name of Sean Tanner on the 26th of last month. Ah. Oh.

We had nothing to do with that. Of course not, madam, but I believe your husband owns a sandway motor car, and I thought... What is it, Lucy? This gentleman's from the police, dear. He's investigating the death of that traffic policeman. Oh, yes. Tanner, wasn't it? Oh, come in, gentlemen. Thank you. This way. Sit down, please. Thank you very much. Take a chair, Inspector. Thank you. I might as well come to the point, Mr. Harker. I believe you own a sandway car. Yes.

Yes, that's right. A blue job. I read in the papers that your people were looking for a blue stamway after that case. That's a terrible thing, that boy. I wondered if you'd come round to see me. Yes, there are plenty of blue stamway saloons about, Mr Harker. Yes, I'm afraid there are. Well, my old butt is parked at the side of the house, so you might as well eliminate her. Yes, well, I'm sorry we have to do this, Mr Harker. Oh, it's no trouble at all. We'd like to be of more help. You come this way, Mr Harker.

Well, here she is. It's a V8 Samway, like the car you're looking for. Here's the papers. Yes, thank you. Oh, the engine number's on the side of the block. I'll have to buy it for you. There you are. Yes, thank you. Well, I can see this is the original paint. Yes. And the number's checked.

Well, let's just have a look at the tires, shall we? I've got Wayfarer at all four wheels. They're pretty good tires. Yes, I see. Well, I won't trouble you anymore, Mr. Harker. I'm not in trouble at all. Why don't you come to the house for a beer? No, I'm afraid I'm on duty. Thank you, sir. We'll be getting a lot. Well, if you like. I'll go back to the house. That's that, sir. Four Wayfarer tires. Engine number checked.

He's had that car for two years. Yes. Did you notice how terrified she was of me when she opened my door? I've seen them scared of the police and they've never done a crime in their lives. Yes, that's true. Yes, there's one other thing, Constable. Is there? Yes, sir. Harker had a V8. But here's the odd thing about it. He said, I've got a V8 Stadler just like the car you're looking for.

Well, I mean, that could be a slip of the tongue. Yes, he's had that blue car for a long time. There's nothing wrong with it. Hmm, perhaps I'm getting fanciful. Well, come on. We've got half a dozen more Stanways to see before we finish with this district. Oh!

Come on, Lucy. Let's get in the car.

Well, that house looked OK to me, didn't it? Nice garden, decent garage. Yes. Yes, I suppose so. Well, then, why don't you like it? Oh, it isn't that, Jim. A woman likes to make a home. Our old house has become a home, that's all. It means starting all over again. Oh, I suppose it can't be helped. But, Jim, please don't go so far. Right, I'm sorry. One thing, I don't need the siren on this road. What...

What's that? What's what? That... that's her! Oh, it's all right, Jim. I can hear it, too. It's a real fire. Go up slowly. Oh, stop it. I can see it now. You know, I give it to the ambulance. Follow me, cop. Oh, no. Take the wheel, Lucy. My... my bills have gone. I can't drive. But... but you must drive, Jim. What about your job? Job? Oh, no, job. I... I can't drive.

Never again. I'll get to the city by bus. I can walk to the office. Anything but this. It's a haunting. Jim, can't we take holiday anywhere until you get your nerve back? No. Every second I'm in the street, I'm waiting for that blessed sign. I'll never drive again. I don't suppose you'd understand, but I can't.

Take the house, eh? Yes, what does it come from? A report from the investigating officers on that tyre. Ah, good. Any luck? Well, this one's explaining, sir. Derwent Tyres Limited reports that they fitted a new Metropolis tyre to the front wheel of a new Stanway car three months ago. And guess who owned the car? No guessing games, please, Constable. Sorry, sir.

The car was owned by Mr. James Harker of Piltdown Road, the fellow we saw the other day. Harker, eh? He's got something strange to do. I'll have another word with Mr. Harker. Ladies Road, 6.

Conductor, this is to stop the demonstration. That's right, just across the road. Oh, thanks very much. Stop! Stop!

This way, Mrs. Harker. The mortuary's in there. I... I so can't believe it. Yes, well, this is our mortuary. Now, please come this way. Do you recognize your late husband? Oh, yes. Yes, that's Jim.

Poor, poor Jim. He did die almost instantly, madam. One of my men was with him. Did he say anything? Nothing recognizable. He said something about a siren. He was talking about a siren when he was run down by a motorbike. Well, he wasn't hit, madam. You see, he had a heart attack. One of our men happened to be nearby, that's all. A heart attack? Yes.

Now, isn't there something you would like to say to me? Wouldn't you like to make a statement about the traffic constable who was killed? Yes, I'll make a statement. After all, it doesn't matter now. Here it is, Inspector. Full statement, by Mrs. Huck.

Do you think she'll be prosecuted? Well, after all, the main culprit is dead. And now what's the matter? Oh, that's one of our bikes. They should be out on duty. Oh, yes. I wonder who it is. That's why I can't see anything. Oh, well, he's gone wherever he was. Or it was, Inspector. Perhaps now that Harker's dead and his wife has made a statement, we won't have that bike again. What do you mean, Constable? I don't know, sir. I don't know what made me say it.

Well, well, well. We know what the traffic cop meant, don't we? As far as Jim Harker's concerned, the music of the sirens

may still be ringing in his ears here behind the creaking door. Get 3-5. Get the taste. 3-5 by State Express. Get the taste of international success. The taste that's uniquely 3-5.

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This is your host back again. Just a reminder of our rendezvous next week. Where are we going? Through the creaking door.

Of course. The manufacturers of State Express 3-5 Filter King cigarettes invite you to listen next Saturday at 9 o'clock when they will again present The Creaking Door.

♪♪ ♪♪ ♪♪

Chance played a big part in the whole business. At any rate, it was Chance that began it all. For if I hadn't gone into that particular cafe on the banks of the Seine at that particular time... Oh, but then I'm getting ahead of my story.

There were tables outside with gaily striped little umbrellas over them, and I sat at one and ordered a café au lait. The man at the next table glanced idly in my direction and then continued to gaze with an odd mixture of astonishment and something else. After the waiter had brought my coffee, he picked up his drink and crossed to my table.

Monsieur, permits. Oh, I'm always glad of a little company. You are a stranger in Paris, perhaps? On holiday. I arrived yesterday evening. Ah, yes, Paris in the spring. Very charming. May I introduce myself? Honoré Lestoc. Oh, Jeffrey Puppet. I'm happy to know you, Monsieur Puppet. As we sat there chatting idly, I began to wonder why this Frenchman should be so interested in me. In spite of his air of polished charm, there was a certain cold weariness about him.

And he seemed to be showing an abnormal curiosity in the details of my life. I must have shown that I was getting a little rested. A thousand pardons. Not that you are wondering what is the reason for my sudden interest in you, Monsieur Pate. Well, that was, more or less, the trend of my thoughts. And very natural. Allow me to explain. I am secretary to Georges Patorian. You know who he is. Vaguely, he's a big financier, isn't he? One of the biggest in Europe.

You have doubtless read something of the activities of Monsieur Peturian, but you have never seen his photograph. Why, no, I don't think I have. I merely ask you because if you had, you would have thought you were looking in a mirror. Oh, you mean where so much alike? So much so that you could pass for Monsieur Peturian quite easily. Well, they say everyone has a double. Now, this is very interesting, Monsieur Lestocq, but... A moment, Monsieur.

It is possible we may be able to turn this likeness to some account. It occurs to me that you might be of considerable assistance to Monsieur Petourian in certain transactions he is negotiating at present. What kind of transactions? Everything is perfectly legal, and Monsieur Petourian is a generous man. Anyway, I'm sure he would be most interested to meet you. Perhaps you would be good enough to spare now, huh? Well...

Well, I am on holidays, but I'm not promising anything yet. Naturally. Now, if you will excuse me for a few moments, I will telephone Monsieur Patourian. There is no harm in a little friendly discussion, is there? I was curious to see my fabulous double, so I went with all of this talk. The apartment in Rue de Mazette was not only sumptuous, but striking.

and as such provided a fitting setting for the flamboyant personality of the financier. Ah, my dear Monsieur Parfait, I am delighted you are so good as to come and see me. A most happy thought on your part, Henri. Let us have a little wine. I will see to it.

You're very kind, Monsieur Batinia. You must call me Georges. To all my friends, I am Georges. And you are Geoffrey. Geoffrey Parfait, is it not? That's right. Even the initials are the same. Now, come and stand here, my friend. I stand beside you.

Now, look in the mirror. Twins, yes? The resemblance is certainly remarkable. Monsieur Farfetch's hair is a shade darker. Oh, no consequence. Providing he parts it in the same way as I do. Pour the wine on the reed. Monsieur Patouillet. Georges. Oh, sorry, Georges. I didn't promise anything, you know. Of course, of course. I'm running on too fast. You must forgive me. Ah, the wine.

Your good health, my friend Jeffrey. Oh, good health, George. Now, let me see if I've got it right. You work in the foreign branch of the London and European Bank, and you're over here on vacation. You speak excellent French. Oh, my mother was French. She taught me French and Italian. Ah, that's a kind for it. Let me see. The London and European Bank. The chairman is Sir Wilfred Dunstair.

I must have a little word with him about you, my dear Jeffrey. Oh, that's very good of you. Not at all. Are we not practically brothers? Now, this little favor you can do for me. Oh, yes. Aha, you are a cautious young man. That is as it should be. Some more wine on the reed. At once.

Now, I will not burden you with all the ramifications of high finesse, but you understand that sometimes it is something of a jungle, eh? Oh, that I can well believe. So, at the present time, I am engaged in a little finesse. But I have rivals who also play finesse. Now, if they were to believe I was taking a holiday away from Paris, away from business...

Well, they would make certain moves. And if I were really on the spot, I could give them a big surprise. A very big surprise. So you see, Monsieur Parfait, all Monsieur Patorian wants you to do is to take your holiday somewhere else and take it as Monsieur Patorian. And that's all? Certainly. You will be doing me a very great service.

i should be most happy to pay you say um one thousand pounds for your trouble a thousand pounds oh it's a nice round figure where must i go anywhere you like my friend you choose the place we will arrange the reservations the suite is the best hotel everything it uh appeals yes

Well, as long as that's all there is to it. Good. Now, that suit, it is too English. Let us have a look at my wardrobe, and we will fit you up with a dozen or so more suitable to my style. Oh, and here, take this passport. What about my things at the hotel in Paris? Oh, Henri will collect them and keep them here for you. Now, we'll go down to my garage, and you shall choose which car you would like to take.

Have you decided where you would like to go? Well, um, Riviera, I think. Perhaps the Italian coast. Ah, excellent. Nice car, too crowded. Um, let me think. Ah, yes, Savona. You remember on the day I went there three years ago? Beautiful scenery, beautiful girls. Charming. We reserve a suite at the Grand Hotel. You should take the Bluetrait de Marseille and you can drive from there along the coast. It is

It is very nice. Very nice indeed. So I set off as Monsieur Georges Fratouillien. It all seemed to be done real, but I told myself I'd better make the most of it. It's only once in a lifetime that you live like a millionaire on someone else's money. I sat in the dining car of the blue train that evening, watching the platform of the Gare de Lyon slide away from the window. I was finishing my soup as the chef du train came along.

Monsieur Paturier? Oh, yes? Monsieur, please accept my most humble apologies. I'm desolate that you should be inconvenienced in any small way. Oh, well, what is it? The sleeping compartment, monsieur. There has been a stupid error. The wrong number has been placed on your ticket. That compartment is already taken. Oh, you mean I haven't got one? Oh, no, no, no, no, monsieur. It is really that you were given the wrong number.

Your compartment is 31, not 21. Oh, well, that's all right. There's no difference in the compartments, is there? Oh, none at all, monsieur. It is just that the number is wrong. I regret very much. Oh, that's all right, that's all right. What about my luggage? Oh, it is in number 31 now. Everything is ready any time you wish to retire, monsieur Patrouille. It was raining the next morning when we got to Marseille, so I decided to go on to Savona by train.

I got out and made the necessary arrangements for the car to be kept on the railway track. And it was then that I noticed the ambulance. The chef d'etre was standing by. Out of idle curiosity, I went up to him. Oh, good morning. I've decided to travel on by train. Ah, good morning, Monsieur Patrion. I'm delighted you find our service so comfortable. I trust you slept well. Yes, thank you. Why the ambulance? Has someone heard? It is one of the passengers, Monsieur Patrion. Poor man, he is dead. Dead?

Well, how? What happened? Shot, Monsieur Paturien. It's very sad and most mysterious. There was no reason why he should shoot himself. Well, how do you know that he did? The gun was in his hand, Monsieur, but of course there will be an inquiry. Yes, yes. Who was it? Monsieur Levant. The gentleman in number 21, Monsieur. I didn't think any more about it. Why should I? The sun was shining when I got to Savona, so I drove to the hotel and moved into my palatial suite.

I changed into trunks, grabbed some towels, slipped on a beach wrap and drove down to the beach. Georges was quite right. It was beautiful. And so were the girls. I got quite a kick out of the number of glances that came my way from several of the lovelies. No doubt the word had gone around that I was Georges Patoilien. And then I noticed one in particular. Sleek, lovely and tanned, with dark liquid eyes. I returned a smile. She came strolling across to where I sprawled on the sand.

Well, hello. Help yourself to a beach towel. Thank you, George. I am glad you are being friendly. I thought at first you were going to ignore me. Well, I do not see you for a moment. No? I noticed you were busy, still as I am old George. And yet I think you have improved. Oh? In what way? You are not so vain. Oh, it's much nicer. Even though everything is all over, I think we could be friends now.

Well, you know I don't bear any ill will. Oh, then you have changed. When I told you we were through, you said... Ah, yes, I was very silly, but... Well, let us leave the past in the past, shall we? Of course.

Oh, you have no idea how relieved I am. When I heard you had made reservations at the hotel here, I wondered whether it would be best for me to go. Well, why should you? I thought perhaps you would make trouble. But now I see I was wrong. Oh, I am so glad you are sensible. Now we can be fine. Yes, of course. Here, you will get your back burned. Turn around and I will put some oil on for you. Oh, thank you. Oh, you men, you are all the same. But...

This is strange. What's the matter? You are not Georges Patorien. Who are you? What are you talking about? Don't try to deny it, my friend. Georges Patorien had a three-inch scar across the back of his ribs. A bayonet wound in the war, he said. More likely a knife for all enough size. You have no such scar. Well? All right, I am not Georges Patorien, but he knows I'm here.

Look, suppose I drive you back to the hotel and we have a drink. It's rather a long story. All right. But first tell me this. Who are you? Geoffrey Parfitt. And come to that, I don't know who you are. I am Anna Miscarly. I knew George three years ago. So I gathered. Here's the car. Hop in. Thank you.

I see you are also using George's car. Yes, with his mission. I couldn't resist this one. I'm not surprised. Look out! Fortunately, we weren't going very fast because both the brakes and the steering wheel refused to answer to any control.

The land standard we hit made a bit of a mess of the bollard, but that was about the extent of the damage. Then we both climbed out, merely a bit shaken. Then I thought of the roads on the Alte Maritim. And what would have happened if I'd carried out my original intention of driving along the coast to Savona? I thought of the dead man in compartment 21. And I realized that someone was trying to kill Georges Péturien. In other words, me.

which made me the bunny. We could hear the hotel orchestra playing in the distance as we sat at a small table in the cocktail bar. Anna looked quite delightful. She twirled the cocktail stick pensively between her fingers. She was the only brightness in what appeared to be a pretty grim future. If there was going to be any future for Geoffrey Puffett,

Well, I might as well make the most of what there was, so I cooked my finger and silently the waiter deposited two more drinks in front of us. Anna looked reflectively from her drink to me. You know, Jeffrey, you're much too nice a person to die for, young. I don't know about that, but I'm certainly very interested in avoiding such a catastrophe. Oh, that Josh Patorian, he's a snake. Possibly. But how do we know he anticipated these attempts were going to be made on his life? Oh, do you really believe he wouldn't know? Well, no, not really.

I suppose I'm what the Americans call the fall guy. Oh, yes. George would know he was playing with some very tough people. George was not without a certain kind of courage. And I doubt he was prepared to take the chance for the big stakes. Then only it tells him about me. And our friend George decides that if someone is going to play us, it would be far better they play us with you instead of George. That is also typical of George. And I fell for it.

You know, Anna, I think you'd better carry out your original idea and leave, Sabella. Oh, are you already tired of my company? By no means. But it might not be too healthy for you, if you're seen around with me. Oh, it's easy to see that you are not yours. All the same, I am not going. The question is, what are you going to do? Well, I'm going to be very careful. Very careful indeed. You could return to Paris. I could try, but there's no guarantee I'd get there.

I can't return to England without picking up my passport and clothes from Georges. No, I think the best thing to do is to stay here and hope I'll survive until Georges pulls off his deal, whatever it is. Oh, look. Horrible stock. Oh, and coming across to us. He's got a nerve. So you are here. You look surprised, don't you? Were you expecting to attend a funeral? I was not expecting to see you, Anna.

No doubt she knows who you are, my friend. Well, you don't think I could bluff it out with her? No, of course not. We did not know Anna would be here or we would never have suggested Savon. Yes, I'm sure. And I didn't know someone was going to try and kill me.

Thoughtful of you not to mention it. But we didn't know either. I see you do not believe it. You see right. The first we knew of it was when George read in his morning paper of the man who was killed in your sleeping bag. Then he realized what was happening and sent me to warn you immediately. Oh, I had the warning when the second attempt was made. So you were warned. But please do not regard us as monsters. If we were, why should I rush across half a continent?

I tell you, I haven't slept for 24 hours. All right, all right. Let's take your good intentions as read. Point is, what do we do now? We must leave here immediately. I have a car outside. If we get away quickly and keep moving, it will be difficult to trace us. Yes, that makes sense. All right, I'll see to the luggage. No, no luggage. Leave everything at the hotel. We must not advertise our departure. What about Anna? I think Anna had better come with us. They might try to find you, you know, by bringing pressure on her. Yes, yes, that's true.

Will you come, Anna? Of course. I will get myself up. It will be cold driving through the house. Then hurry, and nothing else, ma'am. It must appear that we are merely going out for a little fresh air. Is anything following us? No. No, nothing at all inside. Nevertheless, we had better make sure. Switch off the lights and pull into the side of the road. By the edge of the cliff here? Yes, this will do nicely. Cut your engine. It was as the car came to a standstill that I suddenly remembered.

Henri had said he'd had no sleep for 24 hours. It only took four hours to fly down from Paris. So he'd come by road. And that meant he must have left last night, the same time as I did. He could have boarded the blue train at Lyon and shot Monsieur Lavant. He was putting his hand into his jacket pocket as I reached behind him and grabbed his arm. As the big revolver came out, I put an arm lock on him. But the barrel of the gun was against Anna's side.

Drop that gun or I'll break your arm. Not quick enough, my friend. If you put any more pressure on my arm, I shall pull the trigger. Keep still, Arthur. So it was you that tried to kill me. Let go of my arm or I'll pull the trigger. Listen, I swear to you that if you fire that gun, I'll break your arm immediately and your neck within two minutes. I shall count up to five. If by the end of that time you have not released my arm, I assure you I shall fire. Don't release him, Jeffrey. He will kill anyway. One.

Two. You have no chance, my friend. Neither of you. I mean what I say. Release my arm and we will talk. No, Jeffrey, no. We talk now. No, when you release my arm. Four. You are stupid. Very well. Five. Well, do we talk? If you like. Your nerve is good. Don't let him go, Jeffrey. Don't worry, I won't.

Just remember what I said about breaking your neck if you feel like firing that gun. It's an interesting situation. If I fire, you kill me. If you try to disarm me, I kill Anna. And get killed yourself. Quite. So, we are at a deadlock, eh?

But I think I have the advantage. You dare not do anything and you will get tired first. Someone... Someone will come. No, no, no, no. It is a remote part of the coast. And of course there is no one following you at all, my young friend. Why do you want to kill me? Things have been going a little wrong with our affairs. So...

So George and I decided it was time to leave with, of course, several million pounds. We had arranged everything except one important detail, which was sold when we saw you. How perfect. If Monsieur George Patorian dies in Savona, the police will look no further for him or the money. And what about Anna? We did not expect Anna to come into the picture, but she is a meddler. So I'm afraid Anna will also have to go. I've told you what's going to happen if you touch Anna. Anna?

There's a car coming up the hill. So is it. It won't stop.

Yes, it has stopped. Yes, but it has stopped at the foot of the hill. Courting couples don't bother to come out this far. Not your lucky night, my friend. Look, suppose we make a bargain with you. What bargain? You have nothing to offer. There's your life. No, no, my friend. It is your two lives. You will get tired of holding that arm lock, and I have the only gun. Then Jeffrey must be sure and kill you before he gets tired. Jeffrey will not do that at the expense of your life, Anna.

Suppose we agree to say nothing and let you go. And have the surety looking for George and me for the rest of our lives. No, no, no, no. I'm sorry. But we must have a dead George, patruller. Henri! Henri, are you there? Ay, the Josh! That's strange. Yes, George, in the car. Why have you come here? To render any necessary assistance, Henri. Henri?

Or have you completed the little job? No. There is a small difficulty. Then how fortunate I decided to come. Who is the lady? Why, it is little Anna. Dear, dear, my little Anna. What a pity you mix yourself up with these affairs of business.

Now, Audrey, what is your little difficulty? The fact that I have his arm in a lock, and if that fires, I'm going to break his neck. Well, well. What a tiger little Jeffrey has grown into. Is that correct, Audrey? Yes, I have begun against Anna. Splendid. Splendid. It couldn't be better.

All right, fire the gun, Henri. What? And then, if you so desire, you may break Henri's neck, my dear Geoffrey. George, you're insane all of a sudden. Don't worry, I shall avenge you, Henri. I'll shoot our young friend Geoffrey. Then I shall have ten million pounds all to myself. I think it is an excellent solution. I would be sorry if you tried to double-cross me. My dear Henri...

Why do you think I make this tedious journey all the way to Savona? I cannot think of any reason why I should share the spoils with you. You have served your purpose. Now, are you going to shoot Anna, or shall I start the firing? A shot in the petrol tank will, I think, account for all three of you. Don't go any further, either of you. There's enough light for more shooting, but I hope it won't be necessary. Easy. Easy.

is he dead oh yes i'm quite a good shot you know you two young people are really very bright the way anna leaned forward and you released my arm to allow me to alter my head it showed a very high measure of intelligence well that seems to have cleared up the little matter of george patrullian so i think we better start moving now where to

What's your idea now? That, my friend, depends on you. We will go up into the hills and talk about it. We don't want to be found here, so start walking, both of you. Hey, Jeffrey, will you pass me my handbag from the car seat, please? Oh, yes. We mustn't leave that behind. We don't want any traces. That's right. Now, the lady is equipped. We will set out. You first. I will follow behind you. We leave the road here and go up this hill. Yes, sir.

The gunning's a bit rough. Here, take my hand, Honor. Oh, yes, that is a nice touch. I am a sentimental man, and you make a very nice couple. Straight up the hillside, please. There's nothing more for you to worry about now, Monsieur Patrick. The situation has altered entirely. George Patorian is dead, and I'm the only one who knows where the money is safely hidden. So, we are all in a position to make a deal.

But as we struggled up the hillside, I knew perfectly well what kind of deal Henri had in mind. Of course, he didn't want to shoot us by the car. It would be untidy, to say the least, to have two corpses of Georges Petroulien lying there. And Henri wouldn't relish the job of carrying our bodies up into the hills. Far better if Anna and I could be persuaded to transport them there ourselves. By the time we were out of sight of the car, I'd decided what to do.

I squeezed Anna's hand reassuringly, then released it and gave her a push to one side. I stumbled forward to my knees. Oh! Hey!

What's the matter? Why have you fallen down? I caught my foot in a rabbit hole. I think I twisted my ankle. Can't you walk? I don't know. Just give me a hand. No, no, no. You don't catch me that way, my friend. Get up. Well, I can't put any weight on my foot. Well, it doesn't matter. I think we have come far enough. This will do. This will do for what? For this.

It's all right, Anna. I've got his gun now. Oh, that was a tricky moment. It hit my shoulder. Oh, I was so frightened. I would need... Please, type down, Henri. Oh, you're a one in a million, Anna. Oh, I'm so lucky I took the little gun when I fetched my rap. You knew I had it. Yes, I felt it in your handbag when I passed it to you. Oh, I hoped you would. All right, Henri. On your feet. It's your turn to start walking.

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 eleventh hour. Time.

Worrying about those bills piling up? Dreaming about that coming vacation? Want to get away from it all? We offer you escape. You are deep in the remote hill country of Afghan, face to face with the fierce Pathan warriors, trapped into a hopeless fight from which there seems no escape. ♪♪

Escape, designed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure. Tonight, we escape to the north of India and to a battle long remembered, as Rudyard Kipling described it in his famous story, The Drums of the Fore and Aft. ♪♪

When I came out from England to serve as a news correspondent with the British troops on the North Indian border, Regiment No. 329A was called the Fore and Fit. Princess Hernsola in Zern Royal Light Infantry. Fore and Fit. But now, behind their backs, men call them the Fore and Aft. You know, when certain words are shouted in front of other barracks, the troops may come out with belts and fists. But the mere whisper of Fore and Aft

brings out the men of this regiment with rifles in their hands and murder in their eyes. I think perhaps the story of how the fore and aft got its name may be really more the story of Jakin and Peggy Liu, two of the toughest and most lovable little monsters who ever banged a drum or tooted a fife in a military band. They were both about the same age, with curly hair and the faces of cherubs.

And inside were two souls that should have belonged to a pair of devils. Oh, I must have seen them before, of course. But the first occasion I can recall was an informal regimental court the colonel was holding in the orderly room one morning. Piggy and Jakin were there. And they were in trouble, as usual. All right, Sergeant, read the charges. Yes, sir.

The charge is made by one Smithers, a civilian, that while walking back of the bazaar at 6 p.m. last evening, he was set upon without propagation by two drummers from the core band, known as Jakin and Piggy Lou, and by them was beaten into near insensibility. Fighting again.

Go on, Sergeant. Mr. Smithers states further that he was struck down by the two defendants and while lying on the ground was kicked repeatedly in the face and ribs, escaping with his life only through the timely arrival of a detachment of the guard. That's all, sir. Well, what about it, Jacob? Piggy? Is this the truth? Oh, yes, sir. We gave him what for, all right. Come in.

Confounded you two little heathens are more trouble than all the rest of the regiment put together. You're hailed in here on charges every time you turn around. I can't very well put you in cells or hang you. Oh, no, sir. We shouldn't like that at all. That will do, Jaqen. Yes, sir. All right, Sergeant, turn them over to the bandmaster and have them tan their hides.

Tell them to make it one they'll remember this time. Yes, sir. Begging your pardon, sir, but can't we say nothing in our own defense? That's right, sir. What if a blooming civilian said he'd report you for having a bit of a turn-up with a friend? Suppose he tried to get money out of you, sir, and then... That will do, Piggy. Then you were fighting. Well, only between ourselves, sir, and that don't count.

If you'll pardon me, Colonel, this man Smithers does have a reputation for that sort of thing, a blackmail, you know. And one thing the boys don't do is lie. It's not that we'd mind it, sir, to be called up by even a corporal. But we can't have no blinking civilians interfering with the business of Her Majesty's regiment. All right, all right. We'll forget the birching.

You're both confined to quarters for three days. But, sir... And throw away that pipe when you get outside, Piggy. You're too young to be smoking. Yes, sir. All right, dismissed. Confounded Kipling. I don't know what to do with the lads. They're not really bad at heart. And they've never known any home but the army. Where did they come from, by the way? Oh, Jake and this from some back street in London. And Piggy Lou is straight off the Calcutta docks.

In both cases, ancestry unknown. Well, they seem loyal enough to the regiment at any rate. They are, and loyal to each other in their own way. I'm inclined to think sometimes they've got more real spirit than all of those new regulars put together. Yes, I'd say you're overloaded with green troops, Colonel. Overloaded? Ninety percent of the regiment were in Manchester factories and Lancashire Farms six months ago. Can't make a soldier in that length of time. Any chance of action fairly soon?

Off the record, we'll probably move north in about ten days. Not to the front, of course. We'll give them a few months of guarding communication lines. Let them shake down a bit before they see any real action. That's a good idea. The only thing to do is only one thing certain. This regiment is not ready for action yet. Only don't write that back to your paper. But the guards who govern armies seldom choose the wisest plan. On the Afghan border, a large force of Pathan guerrillas began massing near the Khyber Valley...

being held in check temporarily by a regiment of Highlanders and a regiment of native Gurkhas. A week later, the fore and fit was ordered to march north, contact the other two regiments, and carry out joint action to disperse the enemy. ♪♪

Parade ground and barracks began to hum with preparations for the coming campaign. Privates walked with a new swagger, several turns began to snap their salutes and orders, and the young officers nearly shot one another at pistol practice. Battle, a glorious word to men who'd never fired a gun at a human being in their entire lives, but to Piggy and Jakey, the excitement was like salt in an open wound.

For the band was reduced to 20 men, and the drummer boys were being left behind. Don't lie to me if I'm going to let him do it to me, Jaikin. Me, what's going to have a career in the army? Being left behind like an old boot. Then why should you worry? Now you can stay here with that blooming girl of yours. Oh, what's a girl when the regiment's gone up to the front? And that's another thing, too. How am I going to explain to her about being left behind with the women?

What do you have to explain anything to her for? She's only 13. Oh, I've been telling her I'd get myself a medal when the first campaign come along. Now am I going to do it now, I ask you? Perhaps the drum major will give you a blooming medal for tooting on a fife. I heard him talking to you yesterday. Now is I to stop him. Peggy, he says, why don't you consider making music your career? Ha, ha.

Piggy Lou, the musician. A blooming noncombatant. I won't do it. He can try, but he can't make me. Aha. When I'm an officer, perhaps I'll invite you in to have a glass of sherry wine on mess nights. Mr. Lou. I'll be a blinking officer before you are. I'm going to join up with the regulars just as soon as I'm old enough. Piggy, the musician. Ah, Stuart. Why?

Right at the moment, I don't feel like fighting even you. I heard in the barracks they're going to take Tom Kidd along. He's to be the bugler. Of course, he's 18, though. That he is. But I can plaster the wall with him any day. With one hand beyond me back. Perhaps we can eat him around a bit. Just enough so he can't bugle no more. You get hold of Zan's piggy, and then I'll kick him in the... No, no, no. They still wouldn't take us. Our reputations aren't what they might be, you know. Oh, well...

Why does leave stay here and do a bit of love for myself? With our own regiment going into action, why, I just leave out my... Hey, look who's coming. It's the blooming colonel herself. And so it is all along. You know, Jake and me lad, I think I'll have a little talk with this colonel ship. Have you gone deaf with the heat? Oh, the colonel's a good old beggar. Here, owe me a pipe. Blimey, now we're in for it again. I beg your pardon, sir. Yes?

Well, piggy. Are the drums in revolt? Am I to be pulled down right here in the open? No, sir. I'd like the pleasure of a word with you, sir. All right. Go ahead and have it. I'm asking you, sir. If you thought the world and all of your regiment and it was going off to active duty without you, sir, then how'd you feel? Afraid I should feel a bit left out of things. And worse. It's as bad as being a blinking civilian, if you'll pardon me, sir.

But that's how Jacob and me feels about it. You've no idea what a campaign can be like. Why, you'd flop on your face in the first 20 miles. No, we wouldn't, sir. We're good at marching. I've told my girl I'd bring her back a middle. I've just got to go. And anyhow, if I stay here, the bandmaster will make a blu... I mean, a blessed musician out of me, sir. I see.

I think you could pass a physical... Oh, not the slightest doubt of it, sir. We're both of us very healthy for our age. Please, sir. All right. I suppose it's unheard of for a border regiment to take drummers along on active campaign. But if you get past the medical officer, you can both go along. Blimey! Jacob, did you hear that? We're going up to the front. I mean, thank you, sir. Carry on. I mean... The regiment marched out of the station two days later.

and all those left behind lied in the road that led past the parade ground. The band stood by and played them out, waiting to fall in at the foot of the column. And although Jakin perspired and beat on his drum manfully to cover up, it was quite evident that Piggy Lou was not with the band. Jakin kept glancing at the cedar hedge behind him, and I had a rather good idea why Piggy was being detained.

You ought to be awful careful and take real good care of yourself, Piggy. You're so venturesome. You worry all the time. It's odd, Chris. I'll grant you it's odd, but what's a man to do when his regiment's called off to active duty now? Here, give us another kiss. Oh, Piggy. That's more like it. You'd have stayed here like you ought to. You could have had as many as you wanted. And if I'd done that, Chris, you wouldn't think anything of me. Like as not. At least I'd had you with me, Piggy.

And all the thinking in the world ain't like kissing. And all the kissing in the world ain't like having a medal to wear on the front of your coat. Who cares about a medal? Just stay with me, piggy darling, and I'll love you true forever. Aren't you going to do that anyhow, Chris? You said you was. Of course I am. I'd be lots more comfortable if you stayed here. Oh, don't take on about it, Chris. I'll be coming back, and I'll marry you someday, too. I promise. But when? Years and years, perhaps.

You be careful, won't you, Piggy? Oh, man has to take his chances in the army, Chris. But if it happens, I'll be thinking of you right to the last. Don't talk like that. Oh, now, here. Give us a kiss. Piggy, get yourself on over here. We're about to fall in. I've got to go now, Chris, my darling. Don't you be forgetting me. Oh, I won't ever, Piggy. I made something for you to take with you. Hmm? What's this? It's a button bag. All the regular soldiers carry them.

I put some of my hair in it. Well, now, that's awful kind of you, Chris. I guess it ain't made so good, but I didn't want nobody else to help me. Not even Mum. Oh, I'll carry it right over me heart, so long as I'm alive. Don't say things like that. Peggy, come on. Give us one more kiss now. I can't stay no longer. Goodbye, Chris. Take care of yourself. Goodbye. Be careful. I'll be coming around to see you, Chris, me darling, when I get back from the war.

Well, it's about time. And lucky we're not both in trouble. Here, stick this blinkin' fife in your ugly mouth and blow on it, petticoat chaser. Oh, shut up and beat your drum, soldier, before I decide to pound in your bloomin' head a bit. Tell the colonel he can shove off now. And so the four and fit went north to the wars, first by troop train, and then on foot when the last railhead left them with a seven-day route march before they'd reached the front up ahead.

And during those seven weary days, the regiment began to crack. Men weren't hardened to the long miles of marching, and they found themselves dead tired before the noon of each day. The food was bad, and the water was worse. And on the second day, the snipers started in. They would hide in the tumbled rocks of the low brown hills beside the road and wait for the column to pass.

And the first sign of one would be a flash and a puff of smoke, and some man on the long line of march would die without ever seeing the enemy who killed him. And even at night, the tired and nerve-shattered men could find no rest. If anything, the night hours and the dark tents were a good deal worse than the daylight hours on the dusty road. Oh, I'll steal your bloomin' gab until the morning, piggy. Oh, I've got to get myself some sleep. As if I ain't marched just as far as you have.

Oh, me bloomin' feet's killin' me. Serves you bloody well right for gettin' us into this. We could have been back at the station a-livin' on the fat of the land. An half way to becoming musicians, like it's not. In which case, I'd be a-sleepin' in a regular bed, havin' decent charlie for once. I'm afraid you're not the army type, Jakin'. Perhaps I shouldn't have talked my friend the colonel into lettin' you come... Shut up, Bernie! I come in and take a belt to you. Yes, sir. You don't have to call a blinkin' sergeant, sir. That ain't no arm in it.

Piggy, that's another one of our sentries got herself killed out there. Patriot beggars can sneak up in the dark without making a sound. Then they take their bloody long knives and slice a man open as neat as you please. All right, hold your fire and see what you're shooting at.

I wonder what they look like, Piggy. Those, these here, Pathens? Oh, what's it matter when we can't even carry rifles? I ask you now, Jakin. Look at that. How's a man to get himself a medal when all he's got for a weapon is a blooming fife? Late afternoon of the seventh day. Weary, savage, and sick. Their uniforms dulled and unclean.

The four and fit rendezvoused with the Highland Brigade. My lads, here comes the new regiment, the four and fit. Four and fit, eh? May I ask what it is they're fit for? Some of the men bore wounds and some were stretcher cases, but the real casualty was the regimental morale. These raw conscripts had marched out of their station in the south with the band playing, and somehow they'd imagined that they might march glorious into battle the same way.

But no band played when they slogged sullenly into the brigade encampment. Hey, Piggy, think we have found the blinkin' wart lost? And what else? Ain't that a full-grown general old colonels are talking to there? Blimey, look at them chaps over there, they're wearing petticoats. Now, Larch, you know, they're islanders. And I've heard a man best take no liberties with them. One activity might have aroused the interest of the regiment as tired as they were.

rifle practice of the enemy. And with all 700 rifles blazing together, that's the way they felt. We've had a bit of a tough time with it coming down, sir. I might have been rather mauled with no chance of a fair return.

They only want to go in some place where they can see what's before them. I understand, Colonel. I wish I could let you have a few days to recover, but I simply can't spare you right now. There'll be no need of it, sir. All we're wanting is one good night's rest. I see. Well, you can lay your camp area downstope from the Highlanders, Colonel. And I suggest you call a general inspection before dark. We plan to attack the enemy position at dawn.

So it's active duty you wanted, Piggy. And how much longer do you think they're going to keep us standing here with the bloody daylight barely coming over the hills? Oh, noes. We can't have no battle till the Bloomin' General has his morning tea now, can we? Just take a look at all them Pathens out there on the plain. Must be eight of them to one of us.

Right down the line. Then it makes it that much easier to get a medal. And how do you hope to get a medal? Maybe you're going to blow their bloody eardrums out with your little fife. More like it will not even have the chance to see how the beggars look. The beggars look like the beggars.

The band, as you might have heard, is going to wheel and retire when we reach them rocks, where the regular soldiers go on and attack the enemy. Which, I might say, is exactly the way I'd plan it myself. I got no fondness for being sliced up like a blooming leg of lamb. Oh, you got no spirit, you bloody little beggar. Beggar yourself and a bigger one. Them as want spirit can have it. Like as not, I'll have to pound your head a bit before you can... Here we go, piggy. Right, Charging. Ready now. I call him!

Watch yourself now, Jacob. And step lively. Just keep your eye on me and I'll make a bloody ear out of you. Only someone had blundered. Someone had misread an order and the fore and fit move out onto the plain to attack the enemy force alone.

Confounded, stupid conscripts! What are they up to, anyhow? They've spoiled the whole plan of the battle. It's the kind of a mistake you could expect from a regiment that doesn't even know how to march. At the clump of rock, the band wheeled and halted and continued to play while the ranks opened to form a skirmish line and moved slowly ahead. Hold steady, laddies. We've had no orders to move out and therefore we'll stand fast. If the foreign fit wishes to fight like hogs, then they'll fight alone.

At 500 yards range from the enemy line, the regiment began firing at will. At will and wildly. In a few minutes, they'd thrown away half their ammunition and blinded themselves with their own smoke.

And farther out on the plain, the Afghan army stood quietly, throwing occasional well-aimed bullets into the milling herd of green troops. The blooming fools! They're bunching like a herd of sheep! Don't they realize there'll be a Ghazi charge at any minute? Suddenly, from the main body of the Afghan troops, a small band of about 50 Pathan warriors charged forward and fell upon the startled Englishmen.

These were the Ghazis. The suicide squad always thrown out ahead of the Afghan army before any main test of strength. Swinging their long, heavy knives, they struck the close-packed British line. Why in the name of heaven don't they take open order? They'll be cut to bits! The fore and fit wavered, shuddered away from the vicious slashes of the murderous bone-handled knives, rallied for an instant and held, and then broke, turned tail, and ran.

The regiment took no thought for the wounded, for the men left behind.

Nor did they stop until they jammed in the pass that led up the hill. And the band too was carried along with them in their panicked headlong flight. All the band except two men.

Piggy, you think the bloody beggars can see us hiding here on the rocks? Of course not. Seeing as how they're too busy chasing our brave comrades. Look at them run, the blooming cowards. Ain't it a fine way now for a British regiment to act? Had we done the same thing, we'd not be left behind here the way we are. What's eating you? You're comfortable, aren't you? Maybe comfortable, but I ain't easy in my mind. Oh, stow it. Hey, somebody's dropped their canteen here. Maybe it's got rum in it.

And how can you hope to tell by shaking it? Here, now, keep your dirty hands off it. I'll do the trying it out. Well, is it, Piggy? Is it? No, it's water. Here, have yourself a free drink on a majesty, drummer boy. And look, them peeping beggars are starting back for their own lines.

Keep your head down. Well, now, with the blooming enemy returned, perhaps they'll come out and rescue us. Not them, the bloody cowards. Look at them, Jake. The officers has beaten them with the flats of their swords. Can't they see the Pathens ain't chased them no more? They can't see nothing but their own precious skins. Off them, though. Maybe we ought to give them a little music. Show them it's all nice and cozy out here now. Oh, no. It ain't for me to do nothing like that. Won't we should get ourselves shot? What?

Oh, there ain't no enemy close by now. Come on, Jacob. Take up your bloody drum there. You positive there's only water in that canteen? Oh-ho, so like as not you're a coward too. The same as the rest of the regiment. I'll show you who's a coward piggy, my boy. And I'll be pounding your head a bit too. The first chance I gets. Take your blooming fire there and stick it in your ugly face. Well now, so you have got a bit of spirit. Maybe I'll speak to my old friend the colonel about it. Oh, shut up and start blowing. Ready?

Ready all? Now! Where is it we're going to march to, Figgy? Back and forth a time or two in full sight. Then we'll wait in the rocks for the battle to start. Are they watching us? We'll be sure they're watching us. Ah, yes. They're watching us, all right. Time held still, and even the Afghan snipers forgot their weapons, while two armies watched the tiny red-coated figures marching back and forth.

on the battlefield alone. Hey, and I tell you certain there's a pair of brave laddies down there. All right, you blinking cowards! Look at them out there! Of them two children, the only brave men in the regiment... The men of the fore and aft lifted their heads, fingered their rifles, and stared without moving. And out there on the silent plain, back and forth, marched Jakin and Piggy.

We gotta play these blooming instruments all day long. Ain't the blighters ever gonna come back? Shut up, Jakin. Keep flying. All I might say is I shouldn't ever let you talk me into this. I ain't cut out for active duty anyhow. I should have bloody well feel more comfortable if I was back... If I was... Jakin. Jakin. Oh, you blinkin' heathen blighters, you've killed Jakin. All right, I'll show you the...

Come on, you... Two armies saw them die from the sniper's bullets. Two armies and the men of the fore and aft. All right, men of the regiment. What now? Those two at least were brave enough to know how to die. Ready about. This time we attack and there'll be no turning back. Look at them ladies, the fore and aft. They're going back to fight. Here's how it should have been done in the first place.

Late afternoon saw the Afghan army wiped out, and the general explained to me how everything had gone according to his plans.

and how he hoped I'd cable that back to my paper in London right away. I turned and left him then, and walked out across the silent battlefield. Walked out among the silent dead. The two tiny figures lay quite close together, Jakin fallen across his broken drum, and Piggy Lou with the fife still clenched in his dirty fist. A bulge under his tunic caught my eye, and I reached in and drew out...

A button bag, embroidered crudely with the name... Chris. I made it for you myself, Piggy, my darling. Inside of it. I'll wear it right next to me heart, Chris. So long as I'm alive. I thought how Chris would soon forget. And how the world's memory is no longer than hers. The sun was sinking away in the west. The button bag in my hand was soaked and damp. And over the left breast of Piggy's grimy uniform...

Over the pocket where citations are usually worn, a bright red stain had spread out through the coarse wool, looking so very much like the bright red ribbon that goes with a medal. Escape is produced and directed by Norman MacDonald and tonight brought to you the drums of the Four and Half by Rudyard Kipling.

Adapted for radio by Les Crutchfield, featuring Gil Stratton Jr. as Piggy Lou, Jimmy Ogg as Jakin, and Eric Rolfe as Rudyard Kipling, with Jeff Corey as the Colonel and Alec Harford as the Sergeant, Eric Snowden as the General, Peggy Weber as Chris, and Paul McVeigh as the Highlander. Music is conceived and conducted by Wilbur Hatch. Next week... You are drifting on the burning, glossy surface of a tropical ocean, alone on a tiny raft.

with three murderous companions from whom you cannot escape. Next week, we escape with John Russell's gripping story, The Fourth Man. Good night, then, until the same time next week, when once again we offer you Escape.

This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System. Every Man's Theater, written and directed by Arch Obler. Oxidol invites you. Every Man's Theater. You'll hear it every Friday at this time and over this station.

Yes, each Friday night at this time you'll hear a play, sometimes romance, sometimes tragedy, sometimes comedy, especially written for radio by Arch Obler. We think you'll look forward to it each week. Plan to listen to every program of Everyman's Theater? Because we believe these Arch Obler plays will interest you as few radio programs have ever done before. Tonight is the first program. Everyman's Theater presents one of the world's greatest love stories.

A true love story with one of the world's greatest actresses, Nazimova. A great love story deserves great music. So tonight we have a symphony orchestra under the direction of Gordon Jenkins. But first, a word from our writer-director, Arch Obler. Aren't you tired of all this cruelty and bitterness between men? I know I am. So come, let's have a play of love, a strange love. ♪♪

In a darkened room sits a woman, an old woman. She sits very quietly, white hands motionless. This is a room in a fashionable house in a city of the Imperial Russia of 1893. The Russia of great poverty and great riches, of great ignorance and great art. The old woman sits, listening to the thoughts in her mind.

Why today, Pyotr? I had put you away from me.

Why have you come back today, Piotr? Madame, it is of the utmost importance that you listen to me. Who is it said that to me? Madame, it is of the utmost importance that you listen to me. Oh, yes. Sixteen years ago. It was you, Nikolai Rubinstein. Oh, you have been dead so long. And yet I remember what you said that day. How strange.

I should remember. My mission here is of the utmost importance. Really, Nikolai, I find very little of importance in this world. There is a young man in my music school of great poverty and pride and shyness. Of what interest is that to an old widow with a house full of children? If you will let me speak, Nadezhda Fyodorovna, there is one more quality this young man possesses which may interest you.

His ability. Listen. Listen closely. Nikolai, I have not returned to the incrimination for music now. I... What music was this? What music was this you began to play, Nikolai Rubinstein? So many years, and yet I hear it. Music. Music.

And yet, not music, a voice, a man's voice, singing to me. Saying, you're tired, Nadezhda.

I tell you, there will be no weariness. You're old, my dear. I tell you, you will be young. You will have life again. A glorious, singing life. Oh, I tell you this, my dear. I tell you this. I tell you this. When you had finished, Nikolai, I remember I said...

Nikolai, tell me, who's, who is that? Only a teacher in my school. Who? No one you've heard of. Tchaikovsky. Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. So I heard your name for the first time, Pyotr. You have helped so many musicians, Nadezhda Feleretovna. Will you help this one? Would I help you, Pyotr? No. No.

Would you help me? The wealthy widow of a knack. Private railroads. Townhouse. Country house. Yes, I had all those. On Riviera. Miss George. Julia. Yes, yes, I had my children. I had them, but... Nothing. Yes, nothing for me. How could I explain to Nikolai? To anyone? To run a house? To count my money? Oh, was this enough a life for me? I wanted... I wanted... A letter for you, madame.

Your first letter, Piotr. I am sincerely grateful for the kind and flattering words that you were good enough to write me. It is a comfort to know there is a small minority of people, like yourself, who truly and warmly love our art. In a moment, my pen was in my hand. I would write you, yes, yes. I was a woman past middle age. I had born children, yes, but my husband was dead. And my children were growing in their own lives. And I...

I had nothing. But I must have something. You, Pyotr. You. You, the music in you. Oh, if I could give it life and reality, my life would have meaning and reality. Yes, I would write you that, Pyotr. I would tell you. No. I threw the pen from me. What madness had come over me? I didn't mean... I didn't need man nor God.

I will pay you for your music and have done with you, yes. And then, at the concert, that very night... Ah, your music. Ah!

Suddenly the night was cold, and I wanted to be away from their smug little faces, the whole crowd of them. All the night, the night was singing with your song, Theodore. And I walked in the dark along, along the boulevard, back to my home. And the soft flakes of snow wet in my face. And with every step...

There was a singing in my heart that said... Help me. I need your help, Nadezhda. They torture me with their indifference. I have written so much and it's meant so little. I am weary unto death. Help me. I told myself, yes, I would always help you, Pyotr. Oh, do you remember your next letter? Dear Nadezhda Fyodorovna, thank you for your sweet, kind and friendly letter. And your wonderful and kind generosity.

I have finished the outline of my new symphony, the fourth. A symphony? I want very much to dedicate it to you. A symphony dedicated to me? Oh, how days ran then, Pyotr. I, I, an elderly woman, a symphony dedicated to me.

Oh, Mother, it's so good to hear you laugh. You're very pretty when you laugh, Mother. Oh, we're so happy that you're happy, Mother Dears. So happy. And then, three months, Chotter, three months and not a word from you. Oh, what has happened to you, my friend?

Accident. No, no, no, that couldn't be true. But with every day the voices in my head grew louder and louder. Oh, stop, stop saying that. Look, Pyotr, he couldn't. The postman. A letter. Oh, your handwriting, Pyotr. Dear Nadezhda Filovia Tovna, you must forgive me for not writing before. I am now... What was that word? Married. No. No, I must have read it wrong. I told myself...

I held the letter close to my eyes. Married. Oh, no. Married. Married! Oh, no. No, no. And when I stopped crying, I dipped my pen in my tears and I wrote you. With all my heart, I congratulate you, my dear friend. Who should be happy?

If not you, the giver of such great joy to others. From my heart, I press your hand. Do not forget one devoted with all her soul. The days after that...

Like the days after someone who, oh, someone who was close to you has gone away forever. The sun climbs the sky, there are things to be done, and you do them. Then it's night. Everything is just the same, and yet nothing is the same. Who was she? This woman who had taken your heart.

Was she very young? I love you, my husband. Oh, would she understand you? Would she respect your shyness? Suffer your angers when fires of music blazed in you? Humor your child ways? Respect your greatness? I ask myself a thousand, thousand times. Would she do all these things for you, Piotr, that anyone who truly loved you would do?

How could there be an answer? No. This was my destiny. Old woman. To watch the days and the years spin around nothing, into nothing, always. Nothing. To need no one, and to have no one who needed me. Ah, how strange the night I remember now. Good night, Mother. Sleep well, Mother. I lay down on my bed.

Shut my eyes. Sleep. Yes. Sleep. And forget. I closed my eyes. That sound. What? The river. Yes, the river. Rushing cold through the dark. Dream? Well, why should I dream this dream? My name? Did someone call my name? My name?

Yes, again. Who was it? And then, someone coming out of the water. Who? Who? So dark. In my dream, I wanted to see, I had to see, a man in the water. The arms lifted toward me. I saw, Peter, you. Not yet. Matilda. Matilda.

Seven's in my room. What is it? Mother, you're awake. I'm smiling. Yes, Beate. Somehow I knew then. You still needed me. Rumors. I began to hear rumors. Rumors.

And from what they said, oh, I began to see the whole horrible picture of her. Why are you doing this, Theo? Where are you going, Theo? What are you writing, Theo? Will you make much money, Theo? So this, this was the woman my friend had taken. This was Antonina grinding his heart away with her miserable wife. This and do this and don't do that.

Oh, I'll put an end to this leech in your veins. I would, I would. And I did. He has gone off to Italy of all places, this unpredictable Piotr Ilyich. To Italy, without that new wife of his, and to write a new symphony, no less. I wonder where he got the money.

I wonder where he got them from. Clever Nikolai Rubinstein. I think he knew, Piotr. But it didn't matter. You were free. You were free to work. And as you worked, you lived. And as you lived, Piotr, I lived. At last a day. The 22nd of February. Oh, never to be forgotten day. The conservatory. So many lights.

Oh, so many people. The conductor bowed to the right and to the left. Why didn't he start the little puppet? Quiet. Oh, I couldn't breathe. The baton up.

Oh,

Piata. Mine. Nile. Out of the mind and out of the heart of you. For me. I sat there. I was with you, Piata. For the first time even in thought. Alone. With you. The wings of your music lifting.

Lifting me to another world where I was as young as you. Over? Oh, no, no, not over. Someone thrust a program into my hand. Don't you want a souvenir of the evening? I looked at the paper. I could hardly see. Fourth Symphony of Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, dedicated... To my beloved friend. Oh, Pyotr...

If the rest of my life could have been as it's at the moment. And yet, only your letters talking to me. Oh, Pyotr, walking in the night, I was lonely. I wanted your footsteps echoing mine. I wanted your voice answering mine. I wanted, I wanted to see you. Pyotr, why not? Why not?

The thoughts in you were as my thoughts. The dreams in you were as my dreams. The music in you was mine. Oh, you'd written that to me a hundred times. Why shouldn't I? Why shouldn't I see you? The want in me was so great. Did the heavens take pity? Mother? Yes, Mieliczka? Mother, look. The other carriage. It's stopped. Driver, stop.

Stop at once. I looked up. My heart began to beat so strangely. I could feel the pulse of it in my throat and the sound of it in my ears. You. You, Pyotr. You. My heart beats louder and louder. I wanted to say to you, Pyotr. Pyotr, do you hear it? Do you? And then, in your eyes,

In a quick moment, I saw what you were thinking. Nadjez de Filaretovna, I beg you, do not speak. Your wealth has given me solitude, and in this solitude is my music. Speak, and you destroy the silence which brings me my music. Speak, and you destroy the wordless perfection of our friendship. And so I did not speak, Pyotr. What answer can there be when a young man says to an old woman...

This is our friendship. Dare to change it and you destroy it. No, I did not speak, Theodore. Through all the years, I did not speak. But your music, your music. Always the wonder of your music.

How did he begin to applaud you? I always said the man was a genius. The medal for the Tsar himself. Yes, yes. You might let him pat you on the back with a quick flattery of their useless hands. It didn't matter. It didn't matter as long as you wrote your music, Pyotr. For me. For me. Oh, there was no weariness now. I had life again. And you gave it to me, Pyotr. You, you, you, you. Oh, and it would last forever. Your need of me was as great as my need of you. So all of it would last as long as we lived. And I was young again.

Life was good, Pyotr. Everlastingly good. Oh, everlastingly. Now, where was my son? He is dying, madame. My son dying? He has been working beyond his strength. The illness caught him quite weakened. He is dying, madame. Working beyond his strength? For what? For me. For the money I... Oh, Pyotr. I went into his room. What was this?

My junior. My firstborn. My darling. Mother. My junior. Mother, help me. Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me. Whose words? Yes, you. You, Piotr. Yes. For 13 years. Forgotten children and home. Only you. My every waking thought you. And the help of you.

And now those same words from my son. Help me. Help me. Yes. For 13 years I have sinned against him. But now I would help him. At his bedside I said it. Not a prayer. Who was I to pray? You, up there.

Whoever and whatever you are, listen to me. Let him live, my son. Let him live even a little longer, and I will give up all else but my children. Let him live, my son. And so the compact was made, Piotr, between God and me.

And all these years I've kept it. My son lived a little longer. And I... I died when I wrote you that letter.

That letter full of the bitterness of lies telling you it was ended between us. All lies, Pyotr. For now I can tell you the truth. I love you, Pyotr. There, I said it at last. I love you, Pyotr, I love you. As a woman loves a man, a young woman, young, young, young...

Church bells. Why do they ring so late at night? Ah, I'm so old. My thoughts. Where should bells? Oh, oh yes, I remember. Theodore, Theodore, they told me yesterday they carried you through the streets. Thousands of them. Morning. Carried you and put you...

To rest. Pyotr. Pyotr. Why are you in my mind? Why have I thought of you now? Why was your song with me here in the darkness? Why today, Pyotr? To talk to me as I have talked to you. Dear friend.

Be assured I shall remember you and bless you until my last breath. Ah, your last letter to me. You yourself do not realize the extent of what you have done for me. Never for one moment have I forgotten you, nor will I forget you. Because every thought I have concerning myself concerns you also. I kiss your hand with all the warmth my heart contains. I kiss your hand.

With all the world my heart contains. Oh, Theodorus. Theodorus, weary. I want to rest. Sing me to sleep. Now, beloved friend. Ah. Ah.

This is Arch Oviller. Tonight we've had the honor of bringing you Nazimuva in this lonely heart. Featured with Madame Nazimuva was Elliot Lewis.

I hope you've enjoyed our program tonight, and I hope you'll be a regular listener to Every Man's Theater. Now, that name has been carefully chosen, for we think Every Man's Theater will bring you, week by week, the kind of radio plays that will appeal to every man and every woman. Now, for instance, next week you'll hear Raymond Massey in a new play. About a tomorrow we hope will never happen. Then, the week after that, Betty Winkler, Raymond Edward Johnson, and Cat Wife. And for that one, you'd better have all the lights turned on. The third week...

an entirely different sort of play, Mr. and Mrs. Chump, with Walter Houston and his talented wife, Nan Sunderland. And so you see there'll be something different every week in Every Man's Theater. Until next Friday, then. And now, please, a word about the sponsor of this program. Every Man's Theater is Procter & Gamble's newest radio program. It's sponsored by Oxidol, Procter & Gamble's famous granulated laundry soap.

In the last few years, thousands and hundreds of thousands of women have switched to Oxidol. O-X-Y-D-O-L, Oxidol. Have discarded old favorite soaps of every kind and use nothing but Oxidol in their laundry tub or machine today. Now there's a reason for this. In the white washers Oxidol gets, its speed in tub or machine, and its safety to washable fabrics and colors.

Ask for Oxidol when you get laundry soap tomorrow. And listen to Every Man's Theater next Friday at this same time. Raymond Massey in an exciting play of these days we live in, This Precious Freedom. Thank you, and good night.

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I'm Darren Marlar. Thanks for joining me for tonight's Retro Radio, old-time radio in the dark.