 And now, stay tuned for the mystery program that is unique among all mystery programs. Because even when you know who's guilty, you always receive a startling surprise at the final curtain. In the signal oil program, The Whistler. Signal gun! Signal, the famous go farther gasoline. Invite you to sit back and enjoy another strange story by The Whistler. For extra driving pleasure, the signal to look for is the yellow and black circle sign that identifies signal service stations from Canada to Mexico. And for Sunday evening listening pleasure, the signal to listen for is this whistle that identifies the signal oil program, The Whistler. I'm 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, escape to Skull Island. As the pistol shot shattered the stillness of the night along the waterfront, the figure of a man appeared suddenly running swiftly across the railroad yard. Hattless, the man sprinted along the tracks, then crossed over into the deserted cobblestone street, headed for the old pier at the end of the block. Soon the area became alive with voices, the wail of police sirens, the screeching of breaks. As the shots came closer, the man running and stumbling reached the dock, ran at top speed to the end of the war, then he stopped, looked around frantically. Quickly he stepped on a rickety wooden ladder and started down. Then he swung himself under the old wharf and clung to a crossbeam with bleeding hands. As the footsteps and the voices fade away, you know there's only one thing you can do, don't you Steve? You let go and drop into the icy waters below. It's your only chance, isn't it? You swim to the edge of the pier, dive beneath the surface, and strike out for the other side of the channel. Swimming underwater, your heart pounds violently, but you keep going, driving yourself, escape the only thought in your mind. Finally, when you feel your lungs are about to burst, you come to the surface again. There are lights all around you. You quickly go back under, and then you surface again. You notice an old freighter has moved in between you and the police in the dock, gives you time to swim away. Yes, far enough away to lose the police light. But your arms are led weight, and your legs stiff from the cold, and you know you'll never reach the other side of the channel. Desperately, you struggle to keep afloat, but gradually your strength leaves you, and there's a strange whirling sound in your ear, and you feel yourself spinning, sinking deeper and deeper into a warm velvet fog. Then out of the whirlpool, voices faintly at first, but voices growing and coming closer. Yeah, now take a drink of this, it'll do you good. I said a good long drink. Yeah, we better get him below now. I'll get him into some dry clothes. You don't remember a thing after that, do you, Steve? Only darkness again and warmth spreading through you, and the strength returning to your arms and legs. Then suddenly you're awake again. Morning. The sun is streaming in through the open porthole, and you feel the motion of the boat under you. You're in a small cabin, but you're not alone. Hello there. Feeling better this morning? Yeah, yeah, I guess so. Nothing like a good night's rest. Human asleep for hours. Feels like years. I gave you one of my sleeping powders. That stuff that tasted like fire water? Oh no, that would be George's special kind of brandy. He consumes it by the gallant. George? My husband, George Gromac. He fit you out of the channel last night. My name's Melody. You were pretty far gone. Good thing we happened to come along when we did. Where, where are we? Approximately three miles off the coast of Lower California. We're on a business trip, but that's why we couldn't turn back last night after we picked you up. You don't mind. What's our destination? A little island about three hours from here. Skull Island. Sounds real cozy. What's there? Ever hear of the Gromac salvage company? No, no, of course not. Well, George just finished the job there. He's just going down to wind things up. I see. The trip will do you good. Take your mind off your troubles. You do have troubles. Who hasn't? Yours must be King's size. Mine don't drive me to suicide. Suicide? Last night, remember? Or were you practicing for the English Channel? Good morning, good morning. Feeling better, are we, my boy? Yeah, I guess so. Good, good. I brought my long life brandy bottle. Thought you might like a little nip. George. My dear, I'm only thinking of our guest. One little nip, sir. No, thanks. Oh, well, suit yourself. Melody, how about a little breakfast? I'm famished, and I'm certain our guest, Mr, by the way, what was your name? Slosson, Fred Slosson. Slosson. Something funny? No, no, no, not at all. Just thinking about a crazy idea I had last night, that you might be a guy called Steve Henscher. Why? A little while after I picked you up out of the drink, a police launch stopped us. They were looking for an escape con broke out of Folsom two weeks ago. Wanted to know if I'd seen him. The description fitted you like a glove. But I told him I hadn't seen anybody. Oh, come on, George. You'd better take the wheel. I'll fix breakfast. All right, sweetheart. Well, take it easy, my boy. If you need anything, why, feel free to let us know. Thanks. Melody and I, we're mighty glad to have you aboard, Mr. Slosson. Yes, sir, Mr. Slosson. Mighty glad. Tonight's $20 Signal Gasoline book goes to Edward Tomasian of Ontario, California for this limerick. There was a young man from Montrose who couldn't put thoughts into prose. Signal gas, murmured he, means go farther to me where it flows, mileage grows, goodness knows. Signal, signal, signal gasoline. Your car will go, car will go for the gasoline. Our congratulations to Ed Tomasian for his clever way of describing the good mileage you enjoy with Signal, the famous go farther gasoline. Too bad a limerick isn't long enough to include all the benefits you notice when you switch to Signal. I mean Signal's quick cold weather starting. Signal's peppy pick up. Signal's smooth responsive power. For it's a fact, mileage and performance go hand in hand. To enjoy both, next time treat your car to the gasoline that's packed with gold. Fill up with Signal and go farther. You're puzzled by the curious turn of events, aren't you, Steve? Thankful for your miraculous escape from the police. You found a strange refuge aboard a trim cabin cruiser, now skimming along the waters off the coast of lower California. You wonder about the man who pulled you up out of the icy waters of the channel last night. George Gromick. You wonder too about his attractive white melody. You're almost certain they know you're the escape convict, Steve Hinshaw. Yet when they had the opportunity to turn you over to the police, they didn't. Now you lie in your bunk thinking about it and wondering what lies ahead for you at Skull Island. Presently George called you to breakfast in the galley and then in the early afternoon. Well, there she is, Fred, Skull Island. The journey's in. Nice place to hold an embalmous convention. Ha ha ha. Ah, look over there. See the cove there? That's one of my barges. Melody tell you about our operations? Not much. Yeah, we just finished here. Tug will be here in a few days to haul the barge back to port. Got another project in a couple of weeks. You keep pretty busy. Yeah, I like to keep busy. As long as it pays off. This job didn't. Fred, I've got a little something for you to do. I figured you would have. Sort of pay your way, you know. Nothing very difficult, understand? Sort of a watchman. Give me a hand around the barge when I eat it, you know. Sure. You'll find it very comfortable aboard the barge. Got regular sleeping quarters for all of us. It's a nice galley, plenty of food. Sound good to you? I've heard worse. It'll be nice and quiet out there. No one to bother you. I figured you'd like that. I do. What's down over there on the mainland? Small village. You wouldn't be interested. I just have. Last night watchman I had got lonely. Bob Wilson. Decided to go into the village the night before last. Got involved in a bar room brawl. I'll have to go and bail him out. Then I'm gonna can him. You don't have to worry about me. Yeah. I'm not worried about leaving you on the barge. Not worried at all. I think you know a good thing when you see it. There. Alfred. He knows, doesn't he, Steve? You're certain of it. He called you Fred. But you're certain he knows you're Steve Henscher. And there must be a reason. A very good reason why he's offering you this perfect hideout. And you expect to find out soon what that reason is. Then as the cruiser pulls in alongside the barge, you climb aboard. Hey, Alfred. Make yourself at home. Thanks. We're going over to the mainland now. Take care of the Bob Wilson business. Okay. We'll be back before nightfall. Don't go away. Come on, Melody, let's show them off. You watch the small cruiser pull out. Head across the channel to the mainland. Then you turn and begin your inspection of the barge. Finally, you wander into the galley and make yourself some coffee. Your nervousness grows as the afternoon wears on. Then you hear someone walking the deck outside. Instantly, you're on your feet. Cautiously, you step out on deck. See a short gray-haired man standing at the edge of the barge. He's standing near the winch, looking down at some diving equipment. Hey, what are you doing here? What? Oh, who are you? Never mind. Answer my question. Well, after Mr. Gromac fired me, I just rode out to pick up some of my stuff. Ah. You must be Pop Wilson. That's right. You the new manny-hard? Yeah. Ever worked for Gromac before? No. Just wondered. Mind if I ask a few now? No, don't mind. What kind of a salvage job was this? You don't know? Would I be asking if I didn't? My stuff's in here. Help yourself. Well, what about it? Huh? Oh, the job. Yeah. Well, you ever hear of the Lady Luck? The gambling ship used to operate in these waters. Name's familiar. She was raided one night a couple of years back. The boss, Geno Bravelli, got away in a small boat. Took over 200 grand with him. Oh, yeah? Yeah. But Bravelli really didn't get away. His boat hit the rocks, went down. So did Geno. And the box of money. Uh-huh. That what Gromac was looking for? Yep. But he didn't find the dough. So he says, You think different. Maybe. Why would Gromac want to hold on? He had backers. They put up the dough for this job. All he finished was the equipment, the winch, air pump, a diving suit and his experience. I see. So Gromac was the only diver we had on board. Only guy who ever went below. What do you suppose he's keeping that dive and equipment on board for if the job's finished? Yeah, yeah, yeah. You know, Tom, I'm getting curious. Real curious. It's been gnawing at me for days. I'd like to find out. Is it tough going below? No. Been down lots of times myself. But not on this job. Could I handle the works on deck while you went down for a look? Sure. All you got to do is let me down and pull me up. I'll tell you when over the phone. In the meantime, you keep working that air pump. Let's go. It doesn't take long, does it Steve? Pop tells you exactly what to do. And once he's in the diving suit, the winch started. You lower him into the choppy waters along the barge. Okay, Pop? Okay, son. Just keep working that air pump. Getting kind of close down here. Spot anything yet? Not a thing. Keep lowering. Hold it. Well, what do you know? Yeah. What are you doing, Pop? What's the matter? Are you okay? Yeah. Like it's wind. The boat is there, huh? It sure is. How'd you like to split that 200 grand, Pop? Fine, but I can't go down there again. Not with this ankle. Besides, I'm afraid the job calls for a younger man. I wouldn't have the strength. All right, all right. Anything wrong with me trying it? No. I guess not. Only you. You tell me what to do and I'll do it. No, wait a minute. Wait a minute. You can't go down there now. Better wait till the sea calms down. Wait. I can't wait. I'll go back tonight. No, look. You're green it there. You ever can't tell what might happen down there. Better not try it. There's a couple of hundred grand down there, right? Sure, sure. But maybe you'll get yourself killed. Wait a minute. I got an idea. All right. So we wait. Gromick comes back. Maybe I can handle him after all. What do you mean? Look, did he and his wife ever stay on board the budget? Sure. All the time we were working. You walk okay? Huh? Oh, sure, sure. I can manage. Why? Come on. I want to see that cabin. You follow Pop to the cabin, the one occupied by George and Melody Gromick. It doesn't take long to find what you're looking for, what you'd expected to find. A small box containing Melody's sleeping powder. She'd given you some sleeping powders last night and you played a hunch. Figured she'd keep some aboard the barge too. You send Pop back on deck to keep an eye out for the return of the Gromick. The moment he's gone, you reach for the half empty bottle of brandy on the shelf over the top bunk. Gromick's brandy. Pour the sleeping powders into the bottle. Replace it on the shelf. You know exactly what you're going to do now. Exactly what's going to happen, Steve. A few drinks of this brandy will take care of George Gromick. And you smile as you close the cabin door. What's the matter? They're coming to Gromick. Okay, okay. Look, look, I got to get out of here. It's too late now. They'll spot you. Where's your boat? Portside. We'll chance it. They may not see it. Can you hide anywhere on this tub? Yeah, yeah, I'll get you on. All right, beat it. Stay out of sight. I'll handle them. You hurry out onto the deck, peer through the half darkened. Watch Gromick's cruiser approach. You're a little surprised, aren't you, Steve? When it pulls up alongside the barge to find that Melody is alone. Sure. Okay. Got it. Where's Mr. Gromick? Had to go back to San Diego. Business. It was sudden. Oh, I see. Oh, it's getting chilly. Do you got any coffee on? Sure. Come on. You've had rather a busy afternoon, haven't you, Fred? Busy? No. Things have been kind of quiet. Where's Pop? What? Pop Wilson. He's on board, I know. I saw him roll out this afternoon. I've been watching your activities through my glasses. Oh. You might as well call him. We have work to do. Look, what's on your mind, Melody? I want that money. You and Pop are going to help me get it. It's a two-man job, and I'm not very good at the hand pump. Where does George figure in on this? He doesn't. At this moment, there's a welcoming committee waiting for dear George in San Diego. Of course, he doesn't know it. You see, there was an anonymous phone call. Uh-huh. I'm afraid George is going to have a lot of explaining to do about several of his operations. Coffee? Steve? Steve, huh? You know who I am. We've known all along. Steve Hentra escaped convict. Now why don't we get Pop? We've got to work fast. What's in it for us? A share. $50,000. Don't complain. That's more than George was going to give you. He was going to make it a bullet in the head. Now run along, Stevie. For a moment, you stand there staring at Melody. Then she turns her back to you and pours her coffee. Your plans have changed, haven't they, Steve? It isn't George you have to take care of now with Melody. Quickly, you step through the door, slam a chuck, and lock it. Harry, sweetheart, $50,000 isn't enough. I want the whole $200,000 myself. No split with anybody. Right now, during the rainy season, scientific lubrication is even more important to your car to keep moisture from working into vital moving parts and causing damage. That's why I think you'll be interested in knowing about some of the extras you enjoy when you have your car lubricated at a signal service station. First of all, signal dealers don't take any chance on memory when it comes to the many lubrication points on your car. Instead, they check against signal factory-recommended lubrication charts, which clearly shows every part. Then they use nine specialized signal oils and greases, so each part will get the exact type of protection it needs. And finally, just to make doubly sure not a single part has been overlooked, they check each part again, which is why it's called signal double-check lubrication. Now, that's the kind of lube job you want if your car is to give you the long, trouble-free service that was built into it. And that's the kind of lubrication you get from friendly, independent signal dealers. Yes, Steve, you've made up your mind, haven't you? You don't intend to share any of the $200,000 with Melody Gromick. I know you've put her out of the way temporarily, locked her in the galley, until you can dispose of her for good. The weather has calmed down now and you're on deck with Pop Wilson. He's helping you into the diving suit, briefing you and cautioning you, and you listen to him carefully. You're anxious to get it over with, aren't you? And just a little nervous about your trip below the surface of the water. Finally, you're ready. The winch lifts you off the barge, swings you out over the sea, and then lowers you slowly into the depth. You stare through the little glass port in your helmet. Look out at the cold, silent world before you. A strange, fascinating world of weird shadows accented by your torchlight. Elusive shapes that move stealthily around you in the water. Finally, your feet touch bottom. Hold it, Pop. Hold it. You okay? Yeah, yeah, fine. Just a sec. You turn slowly, move your torch around, watch the beam of light spear the darkness, and there it is. The battered boat wedged in between the rocks, and you move toward it. Hey, Pop. Pop. Yeah? You slowing down in that air pump? You got the stuffy down here. Hey, what's the matter up there? Something wrong? Look, you better get me up. Start the winch. Start the winch. Keep that pump going. Hit me. Brandy. Like this. What's brandy? Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program The Whistler. Each Sunday night at the same time. Brought to you by Signal Oil Company, marketers of signal gasoline and motor oil, and fine automotive accessories. Remember, if you would like the fun of having your friends hear a limerick of yours on The Whistler, the address to which to send it is Signal Oil Company, Los Angeles 55, California. All limericks become the property of the Signal Oil Company. Those selected for use on The Whistler will be chosen by our advertising representatives on the basis of humor, suitability, and originality. So, of course, they must be your own composition. Featured in tonight's story were Ted D'Corsia, Faye Baker, Tom Tully, and William Conrad. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen with story by R. Sprague Hall. Music by Wilbur Hatch. And was transmitted to our troops overseas by 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 to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Remember, at the same time next Sunday, another strange tale by The Whistler.