 And now, stay tuned for the mystery program that is unique among all mystery programs. Because even when you know who is guilty, you always receive a startling surprise at the final curtain. In the signal oil program, the Whistler. Signal, the famous go farther gasoline, invites you to sit back and enjoy another strange story. By the Whistler. I am the Whistler, and I know many things for I walk by night. I know many strange tales hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadows. Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. And now for the signal oil company, the Whistler's strange story. Two smart people. The story of the two people sitting quietly together over their cocktails in a hotel suite in San Francisco. Began weeks before on a speeding, transcontinental train. The two people were not sitting together. Corinne Sloane, as a matter of fact, was paying very little attention to the man sitting across the car. On the other hand, she was paying a great deal of attention to the things being said to her by one Mr. Kuvon, a stoutish gentleman who seemed anxious to impress his beauteous listen. Importing is a highly fascinating business, Miss Sloane. It takes years to know your way around in it. Exporting and importing? Why, the very words conjure excitement, Mr. Kuvon. And you must make a great deal of money. Let me order you another drink, Miss Sloane. Oh no, no, I still haven't finished this. You've been talking so much here, I've scarcely touched mine. Oh, well, it's also very interesting. Oh, this is a business trip, too? Yes, I would say that this sub, this little scrap of paper, this Bill of Lady, my dear, is an open sesame to quite a sub. Bill of Lady? I don't even know what one is. Oh, I'm sorry, too much talk about business anyway. Just a paper covering an import shipment, that's all. And that's why you're going where? To San Francisco, yes. Interesting place. Always enjoy visiting it. I remember the time when I arrived there on the trip. You continue to look at him, don't you, Corinne? But you've stopped listening. Because Mr. Kuvon has said the magic words you've been waiting for. Since nearly a week ago, when you chance to overhear him in a mysteriously furtive telephone conversation, from a Chicago hotel room adjoining your own. Those words come back to you now exactly as they did through the open windows of the hotel room. At that time, while he didn't realize it, Mr. Kuvon was standing only the width of a wall away from you and saying... My shipment is due to arrive in San Francisco Saturday. Yes, I understand. How will I make deliveries? The Mid-City Hotel. What name? You'll be registered there? Good. I'll have what you want. And the payment to me, it will be in cash, 50,000, and I'll never be mentioned in connection with the transaction. Good. I'm leaving Friday to pick up the goods. I understand. Goodbye. That short conversation you overheard is what brought you on this train, isn't it Corinne? It caused your accidental meeting and conversations with Mr. Kuvon. And now you're well prepared for your next move, a tiny white tablet hidden in your glove. You glance around the car, there's only you, Kuvon, and the man sitting across the way. Your gloved hand darts out swiftly, passing over Kuvon's unfinished cocktail. And then you sit back, wait, and appear interested in his rambling story. The captain himself said he'd never brought his ship through a worse fog, when suddenly we passed through the Golden Gate and the fog parted in there and all its splendor was this beautiful city in the hills. Magnificent, my dear. I'll never forget it. Never. You tell it so graphically, I can almost see it in your words. Mr. Kuvon, you still haven't finished your drink. Oh, so I haven't. What do you need after all that story telling? No, I think I've had enough. If you'll excuse me, Miss Lone, I'm going back and rest a bit before dinner. Oh, but you can't do that. Oh, dreadful of me after you've entertained me so. Perhaps I'll see you at dinner, Mr. Kuvon. Oh, indeed you will. My pleasure. And now you will excuse me until, say, seven o'clock. Of course. He walks away without touching his drink. A moment later, the man across from you gets up and leaves the car too. Sitting there alone, you wonder what your next step will be. Decide that you'll wait until after seven. Search Kuvon's compartment while he's waiting for you in the dining car. The time passes slowly. Then at a quarter past, you try the door and look inside. Mr. Kuvon. Mr. Kuvon, what's happened? Did you fall? You stop almost ready to step out, call the conductor. When you think of something else, quickly you search the unconscious man for the precious bill of lady. You look in his wallet, briefcase, search the room and his luggage. But it isn't anywhere to be found. Is it Korean? Someone else. Someone else got it. I better get out of here. Back in the club car, you sit down. Days wondering. Excuse me. And realize that someone is speaking. The man who was sitting across from you and Kuvon early. Excuse me, but are you all right, Miss Sloan? Oh, certainly. Well, you didn't seem to hear me when I spoke. Well, it's nothing. So you know my name. Oh, I heard the gentleman you were talking with a little while ago call you Miss Sloan. Did you by any chance lose something? Lose something? Like what? Like this glove. I saw it near the chair when you were sitting with a stout gentleman. Oh, yes, it is mine. Thank you. Oh, now, Thomas Sloan said the train's slowing down. I don't think we stopped here. Where are we? I'm not sure. I don't know. Oh, Porter. Yes, sir. Why are we stopping? They're getting an ambulance. A gentleman in car 79's engine. Is it anything serious? No, ma'am, but we'd never stop here, ordinarily. They're gonna take him to the nearest hospital. Oh, I see. Oh, the poor chap. I think I'll go ask the conductor if there's anything I can do, even though I just met him. Met who, Miss Sloan? I don't believe I heard the injured man's name mentioned. I'm sorry. Confused. Excuse me. Certainly. No, I'm going to offer to help. It was a terrible slip of the tongue, wasn't it, Corinne? Indicating to the strange young man that you knew who was injured before anyone had even mentioned his name. Oddly, he didn't seem too surprised. But you feel that he believed your quick explanation, that you were confused. You hurry from the lounge car, and then a moment or two later, you see him again in the small crowd that gathers near the steps as Mr. Kuvar's unconscious form was carried off the train. He's going to be all right. Yes, yes, yes. Just give us room here, folks. Please, give us room. Let the doctor through. Now, lady, lady, would you finish what you were just telling me? I don't know if it would be much help, conductor, but it does seem as if this might be more than an accident. Well, this chap you saw entering Mr. Kuvar's compartment. What part of the train did he come from? The forward cars from the direction of the club car. Uh-huh. You mean he could have stepped in there? You look up, Corinne, just in time to catch the expression on the face of a man who sat across from you. Handed your gloves back just a little while ago. You see him flinch slightly, and suddenly you're certain about him. So certain that you detach yourself from the crowd on the station platform. Board the train on notice. Porter. Yes, ma'am? That gentleman I was talking to a moment ago, he's in my car, isn't he? No, ma'am. He's in car 52, bedroom C. But ma'am, I think he's out there on the platform with others. I know, but I have a surprise for him. We're old friends, you see. Oh, yes, ma'am. You hurray through the cars to 52, room C. Praying that he won't wonder about you and follow. Inside the room, you search swiftly, methodically. Find what you're looking for in the simplest of places, his briefcase. Quickly, you'll go back to your own room, call the porter for your luggage, and walk forward to explain the conductor. Oh, you're getting off here, ma'am? Yes, I didn't realize who it was that was injured. Mr. Kuva is a friend of yours? Well, we have mutual friends and interests. I'm going to stay here overnight, notify his friends and visit him at the hospital in the morning. Would you fix up my ticket? The agent in the station moved you into one of the friends. Well, what's this? You're leaving us? Well, the lady is a friend of the injured gentleman. Oh, really? Well, now I think you're doing a very nice thing. Well, thank you. I'm glad you approve. Oh, I do, really. Such genuine interest on such a short acquaintance. Mr. Kuva must have something. Thank you for returning my lost property, Mr. Burton, Larry Burton. You mean your glove? Yes, my glove. Your baggage is off, ma'am. Well, thank you for that. Well, goodbye, Mr. Snow. Goodbye, Mr. Burton. I hope you have a very enjoyable trip. And again, thanks for everything. The high compression motors of many of today's newer cars are designed and built to perform best on a premium quality gasoline, such as Signal Ethel. But if you're driving an older model, maybe you think you wouldn't notice any difference in Signal Ethel. Well, you'd change your mind if you just see some of the vintage models that fill up at the Signal Ethel pump and hear the enthusiasm of their drivers. For instance, a chap who lives up in a hilly section was telling me, you should hear some cars clatter and struggle when they try to pull my hill. But with Signal Ethel, my 41 model walks right up in high. Another driver of a 39 model remarked, on cool mornings I hear some of my friends complaining about hard starting, but with Signal Ethel, my car starts quick as a rabbit. Yes, folks say mighty nice things about Signal Ethel because this premium grade of Signal's famous go farther gasoline is a real super fuel, scientifically engineered to bring out the best in any car of any age. For proof, just treat your car to a tank full of Signal Ethel. Then see if you don't feel a difference, a wonderful difference in Signal Ethel. It was almost amusing, wasn't it, Corinne? The swift exchange on the train with Cuvar and Larry Burton. First, Cuvar's failure to drink the cocktail into which you had dropped the sedative. Then Larry's bold attack, which may even yet prove fatal to Cuvar. Larry must have been very confident that you didn't suspect him to let you out of his sight without checking the contents of his briefcase. He'll be confused and angry when he discovers that the precious little slip of paper, which seems to be worth so much, is missing. It's safe in your purse, isn't it, Corinne? As you board the next airplane west. At San Francisco, you check into a hotel, hurry to the steamer docks and the freight offices of the American-Italian Steamship Company. This shipment will arrive on the SS Allegretibus, docks tomorrow 4 p.m. Tomorrow 4 o'clock. Do you know what the delivery charges will be? I mean from the dock to my hotel. Staying in the city? At the Bayview, yes. Let's see, the chart will be matched. Well, I wanted to pay now and have the shipment sent there. All right, ma'am. I'll take it for you. No trouble at all. You take a taxi back to the center of town. Spend a couple of hours window shopping. Stroll through some of the stores. Then return to your hotel suite. Confident. Pleased with the way things have turned out. But the moment you step inside your bedroom, you know something is wrong, don't you, Corinne? Your suitcase on the floor, open. Your things scattered about. As you reach out for the phone and the bedside table, the closet door suddenly swings open. Hello. You. Larry Burton, the name's sweetheart. Remember? How did you... I got off the train to stop after you did. Have the plane, and here I am. But how did you know if... Boy, finding you was easy. Just a couple phone calls. You shouldn't have registered under your own name. And now you better give me what I came for. What are you talking about? That little item you took from my briefcase on the train. I want it. I don't know what you mean. Sure you do, honey, sure you do. Now look, why don't you be a good girl and hand it over? I told you to leave here. This is my room. Now look, sweetheart, I don't want any trouble. Well, you'll have more than you can handle if you don't leave. The bellboy's on his way up. I asked him to bring me a paper. Oh, sure, sure. Will you leave? After you've given me that bill of lading, yeah. And if I don't? You better play it smarter. Now will you leave, Mr. Burton? Just a moment, please. Well, okay. Like I said, I don't want any trouble. But I'll be around, sweetheart. I think I'll just get myself a room right here in your hotel so I can be real close to you. See you later. It was a shock, wasn't it, Corinne, finding Larry Burton in your hotel suite when all the time you thought he was still on the train. Long after he's gone, you pace the floor wondering what you must do, how you can outsmart him. Finally, you pick up the phone, call the steamship company, and ask them to have the shipment delivered to another hotel, the Carson House. Late that afternoon, you leave your rooms, and as you step out onto the street. Hello again. Why don't you leave me alone? You mind if I walk with you? I do mind, yes. Well, I don't seem to be doing so well. Where are we headed? The Carson House? What? Oh, I'm sorry. But I just couldn't help overhearing your telephone conversation this afternoon. In fact, I'd been right outside for an hour hoping I would hear it. Open transom, you know. You should watch those things. Thanks for the advice. You're welcome. And I've got lots more advice for you, sweetheart. I'm not interested. Now look, I've got a proposition for you. Yes? You know, Corinne, we'd make a great team, the two of us. Really? Mm-hmm. I knew it from the time I saw you on the train. When you dropped that tablet in Kuva's cocktail. There, I said to myself, there was a girl after my own heart. Do go on, Mr. Burton. You know you could be accused of attempted murder. What I put in Mr. Kuva's drink was not poison, merely a sleeping tablet. But speaking of murder, have you read the afternoon paper? Mm-hmm, afraid not. Mr. Kuva is dead. Well, that's too bad, isn't it? I could tell the police what I know. But you won't. What makes you think so? Oh, look, Corinne, you're fumbling around in the dark. You don't know what you're mixed up in. This shipment of Mr. Kuva's, it's very unusual. And worth a lot of money. True, true. But when you get the stuff, where do you deliver it? Who makes the payoff? How? I'll find out. No, no, never. Never. You couldn't. Unless you followed Mr. Kuva around for weeks the way I did. You're suggesting that... That we worked together, Ron. Well? I'll have to think it over. Well, all right. And while you're doing that, why don't we have dinner together? All right, Mr. Burton. Why don't we? It's the smart thing to do, isn't it, Corinne? Yes, to play along with Larry Burton. The information you need. And then arrange to get him out of the way. Collect the payoff money alone. Dinner with Larry at one of the big hotels is a most enjoyable affair, isn't it? He's properly amusing, very attentive, and finally you have to admit to yourself quite handsome. And then later as the two of you are dancing. Having fun, Corinne? Of course I am. Very superb. The music's just the way I like it. And you're an awfully good dancer. Thanks. You've been rather quiet all evening. I was just wondering if... I'm sorry. Just that I have something on my mind. Remember? You reached a decision yet? Yes. Well? All right, Larry. We're a team. You sure? Of course. You wouldn't be figuring on the double-cross? No, Larry. The way I feel, I couldn't double-cross you. Oh, that's what I've been waiting for here, sweetheart. Come here. Larry, please not here on the dance floor. Who cares, honey? Who cares? All right. Who cares? The soft lights, the music. Larry holding you close in his arms and then kissing you, Corinne. For a moment, you almost forgot all the plans you'd made, didn't you? Yes, but only for a moment. When you return to your hotel, you drop into Larry's room for a nightcap. Now, just make yourself comfortable, sweetheart. Thanks. Now, what'll it be? Scotch or bourbon? Scotch, darling. One thing... who are we dealing with anyway? You mean on the pay-off? That's all right. As your partner, shouldn't I know? Well, I guess you should, sweetheart. Okay, it's a fellow named Arlington, J. Arlington. Staying at the Mid-City Hotel, isn't it? Yeah. Right again. Well, here's your drink. To Mr. J. Arlington. Silent. You have all the parts now, haven't you, Corinne? All the parts to the jigsaw puzzle for the highest stakes you've ever dreamed of. An hour or so later, that same night, back in your own suite, you put through a call to Mr. J. Arlington. Mr. Arlington? Yes. This is Corinne Sloan, a friend of Kuva's. He's dead. And so I read in the papers, shame. I was very fond of him. That's all? We worked together. He was supposed to call you about the shipment. That's right. So, I'm calling you instead. Got the stuff? I will have tomorrow afternoon. Hotel? You'll have the money. Good. See you tomorrow, Mr. Arlington. It's done, isn't it, Corinne? You've established contact with a man who is going to pay you $50,000. You should be pleased, shouldn't you, but something's troubling you. It's Larry, isn't it? The following afternoon, the shipment is delivered to your hotel suite. Heavy wooden box. You're puzzled. Wonder what it is. Whether to call a bellboy to help you open. Then, as you're fixing a drink, Larry arrives unexpectedly and the two of you open the box and examine the contents. Rugs? Those are some Italian rugs. Larry, who'd want to pay $50,000 for these? I told you this was a very unusual shipment. What's this all about? Here. Take a look at this rug. This label here is sold in the corner. Oh, what about it? It just gives the rug size, value, pattern number, material views, date of manufacture. Well, just things like that. Yeah, that's what you think. I don't get you. It's a code, sweetheart. What? Those value figures, pattern numbers, and dates, so code words. But what? Who? You remember that $250,000 Timothy Paywall wobbly last year? Oh, oh, yes. The money was never recovered, was it? No, no. But the words and numbers on this label tell somebody where to find that quarter of a million dollars. Arlington? Right. A million. Too bad we can't decipher this. Well, I'll settle for the 50 grand. Oh, so will I. Do you know who sent these rugs? Anna's code? You've heard of a gent named Espegos, haven't you? Chris Espegos, the racketeer? He was deported, wasn't he? Yeah, sure. But now he wants some of that dough. I see, but why did he just... Uncle Sam watches people who get mail from certain countries, especially cables and code. So he sends his instructions this way. Rather neat, I'd say. Neat and worth 50 grand. And that's where we come in, isn't it? Yeah, that's right, sweetheart. 50, 50? 50, 50. That calls for a toast, darling. Sure, Corinne. I was going to make the same suggestion. We'll drink a toast to the future Larry, to us. If you've ever tried to drive your car with even one spark plug missing, you know what a big difference some little things can make. That's why the quality accessories, which signal dealers carry, can be mighty important to your car's performance. For instance, if it has been 10,000 miles since your spark plugs were replaced, a new set installed by your signal dealer will not only increase pep and power, but save up to 10% on gasoline, too. Another item which should be checked periodically is your oil filter. If the filter cartridge is dangerously clogged, your signal dealer can install a new one. Likewise, if your windshield wiper is leaving blinding streaks across your vision, your signal dealer can install a new blade while you wait. And other quality accessories he carries include guaranteed signal batteries, fan belts, radiator hose, light bulbs, polishes, and nationally advertised lead tires. So remember, in addition to being headquarters for the famous Go Farther gasoline, signal dealers carry most everything you need in the way of accessories to make your car run better, look better, and last longer. The story of the two people sitting together quietly over cocktails came to an end there in Corinne Sloan's hotel suite in San Francisco. Homicide Lieutenant Davidson still investigating the strange double tragedy hours after its discovery could fit only a few pieces of the puzzle together. Answer but a few questions put to him by members of the local press. Who found him, Lieutenant? The maid came in to fix the room and discovered the two of them sitting there, both dead. I heard the name Arlington mentioned. How does he fit into the picture? Wish I knew. According to papers found on both Larry Burton and the Sloan girl, they each had an appointment to meet Arlington at the Mid-City Hotel. Yeah. Well, we checked with them at City Hotel. Found out that Burton himself had checked in there as Arlington. You mean Burton and Arlington were one and the same guy? Mm-hmm. Instead of the hotel, he'd stayed there only long enough to get a phone call from some woman. The late Corinne Sloan, here. Could be. Well, who do you figure poisoned the two cocktails, Corinne Sloan or Burton? That's hard to say. Just to mean like each of them poisoned the other. Just two smart people who outsmarted each other. Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program The Whistler each Sunday night at the same time. Meanwhile, signal oil company and the friendly independent dealers who help you go farther with signal gasoline hope you'll remember. Regardless of what gasoline you use, you'll enjoy more miles of happy driving. If you drive at sensible speeds, obey traffic regulations and avoid taking chances, you may even save a life, possibly your own. Featured in tonight's story were Bill Foreman as The Whistler, Betty Lou Gerson, Wally Mayer, Herb Butterfield, Herbert Lytton, and Bill Boucher. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen, with story by Joel Malone, music by Wilbur Hatch and the Armed Forces Radio Service. The Whistler is entirely fictional and all characters portrayed on the Whistler are also fictional. Any similarity of names or resemblance two persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Remember to tune in at the same time next Sunday when the signal oil company will bring you another strange story by The Whistler. Marvin Miller speaking for the signal oil company. Stay tuned now for the Horace Height Show that follows immediately over most of the station. This is the CBS Radio Network.