 And now, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. Listen now to Euletide Miracle starring Larry Haines and Santos Ortega, and written especially for suspense by John Roberts. Go ahead, laugh if you like. Only kids and old ladies believe in ghosts. Yeah, sure, that's what I thought too. Until I met a chubby little guy with hair like cotton candy who called himself Sir Benjamin. But first let me fill in the details about my meeting with Sir Benjamin. I was in one of those free eats missions along the Bowery. I ducked in there to escape a parole officer named Branigan. Branigan was out to hand me a merry set of bracelets for Christmas when he caught me. The mission was empty. I had it all to myself. Except for the skinny young punk hacking out a car that made the benches jump. Hey, kid, you're sick. Yeah, I know, you need a doctor. I've had a doctor. I'm wearing hospital pajamas under this suit. Yeah, I went down the fire escape to the street to here. I want to get home for Christmas finally. I've been years making up my mind to it. What are those boxes you're holding? Christmas presents for my mother. My sister Linda. My kid sister Linda. Do you like this? Oh, ladies' gold watch, huh? Yeah, it pins on a dress. Oh, and stole my mother's watch and sold it. This, um, this squares it. Yeah. What's in the other box? Nylon stockings. My sister Linda's always had a... Hey, hey, hey kid, now come on, get hold of yourself. Come on, now. Hey, I can't get hold. Look, these presents, if you could get them to Mrs. B Simmons for me, tell her that Tommy, her son Tommy, Mrs. B Simmons. My kid. Come on, Tommy, get hold. It was right then that Sir Benjamin, the chubby little ghost with hair like cotton candy, happened. The first I knew of him was magic as if... as if he was announcing himself. It was music coming from an upright piano on a platform way down the mission hall. The Christmas hymn. But look, until my eyes popped out of my head, I couldn't see anybody. The piano was going, but nobody I could see was playing it. I went up to the piano and reached over the stool to see how the trick was worked. And then my hands touched something solid, like somebody sitting on the stool. And then I saw fingers, hands skipping along the keys, only hands as if they had a life of their own. I don't know why, but I grabbed them. Ouch! It hurt. I bruised easily. Hey, I'm... I'm saying things, and now I'm hearing voices. My voice, Chris. You're hearing me. Well, where are you? Right here, my boy. Why? Just be patient, and I'll rematerialize. It, uh, takes a moment or two. Hands spilled. First arms, then elbows, shoulders, and then a body, slowly. And then the last thing, a head with little parts right here. A chubby face, rosy and smiley. A little bit of me, trust. Who are you? Sir Benjamin, I'm sorry if I worried you. Hey, that, that trick, like, like you were invisible. But I was invisible. Come on, nobody can do that. I can. And that's only one of my powers. But first, suppose we get right down to business, Chris? We have business? Of course. That boy over there on the bench, Tommy Simmons. Oh, oh, the kid, yeah, you know, I almost forgot. He's lying there, like, dead. I don't dare go outside, but somebody's got to call an ambulance. Do something. It's too late for Tommy. Well, now, we don't know that. We're not doctors. I know that. The problem now is, what are you going to do about his dang wish? What? Oh. What do you mean about delivering those presents to his family? It would be fine if you deliver those presents in person. Me? Hey, now, come off it, mister. It's not my job and it's none of my business. Besides, I, I got problems with my own. Brandigan? What? The parole officer? How did you know about Brandigan? I'm a very versatile and talented ghost. I also have powers of conjuration. Come again. Turn the boy's dang wish aside, and I'll conjure up Brandigan. You don't think I can? I don't think you even exist. How about that? I think I'm dreaming you up. Very well. I will demonstrate. Hold on to something, Chris. Conjuration is a very cataclysmic and strenuous business. You will definitely be safer if you hold on to something. Don't ask me why, but I grabbed hold of a piano. That's a good thing I did too, because the joint began to lock like a earthquake was hitting it. Here. I'm finished now. This is quite a job of conjuring, but here's Brandigan. Why, see? The street, peering through the plate glass window of the mission. Watching you? Holy smoke. It is Brandigan. Hey, I've got to get out of here. I've got to find a back way out. Through this yard door. Quickly. I dived into the yard where Brandigan's police wasn't blowing at me. The yard was a dead end. High building walls all around like a prison yard. No exit except the long narrow alley to the street past Brandigan. I flattened in the shadows a dead duck. I was listening to Brandigan shout orders that a couple of blue coats would come running when he whistled. Watch the exit man while I flush him out. The Angelo you're trapped. Better surrender peacefully. They'll hear me, the Angelo. Trapped was a word like a rat. Oh, a pity. Too bad, Chris. What's the penalty for violation of parole? A year, maybe two. Oh, you were a big help showing me into the yard. There I go talking to myself. You're talking to me. I could really be a big help. Give up, the Angelo. Don't make me take you the hard way. Think fast, Chris. You're to respect Tommy Simmons' dying wish. You were to go home for Christmas in his place. Okay, okay. If I was to, then what? Then Brandigan goes empty-handed. In order to catch you, he must first see you. Oh sure, sure. You're going to make him suddenly going to go stone blind, huh? No, you are becoming invisible. It was a laugh. But the laugh was I was invisible. At least to Brandigan I was. He came right toward me with a flashlight in one hand and a gun in the other. Only he looked right through me as if he didn't see me. The Angelo! I know you've got to be in this yard. First every inch. And then scratch his head and give up. Now, Chris, for your part of the bargain, get a Tommy's presents. Go deliver them. Now look, I'll leave here and only run into Brandigan outside somewhere. Now what about that? You remain invisible until you've arrived to your destination. That is, as long as you remain faithful to your mission. Go, Chris. Okay, okay. Wait a minute, wait a minute. Where do I find this Mrs. B Simmons? Not far. Just a brief train ride to a neighboring town. The town, Chris, is better than him. As Sir Benjamin had promised it was a brief train ride. But funny, I felt like I'd come a long, long way. There was a deserted train ship with slow packed high. The station's sign turned silver by the moon red. That's for him. Not a soul in sight. No, no. There was someone. A girl. A girl in high boots, a snow hat. And a home on her cheeks. She was coming toward me. Hello. Ah, hello. Are you Chris? Yeah, yeah. My name is Chris. I'm Linda. Linda Simmons. I came to drive you home. Just like that. Just like what? I mean, no, no explanations. Like, you know, I was here. And how come you know my name? Oh, I was told you were coming and told your name, too. You were told? Somebody telephoned. Oh, yeah, he telephoned. He was a kid when he said he was a talented ghost. Say, you came right at me just now. That means you saw me. You can see me, huh? See you? Yeah, yeah. Face, hands, body, me. I'm a guy. You look at me and you see a guy. No. I cannot see you. Then I am invisible. No. It's just that I'm blind. Let's take it now, huh? There was a horse drawn slay around the side of the ship. Silver bells on the reins and a horse whose name had to be Dobbin. Ah, you drove this rig all the way here by yourself? No. You don't drive, Dobbin. He knows every inch of the way to the Bethlehem Station. You see, we've been coming here every night for years. Nice and slow and easy. I'd been running since I was born and now I was asking myself what for. A guy can't stay tough in a horse-drawn rig in the snow. And when Linda put her hand on mine, I opened my fist for the first time I could remember. A framed cottage, nothing fancy, with a candle burning brightly in the window. Come in, Chris. Mother, right here, Linda. Oh, mother, this is Chris. Welcome home, Chris. Oh, yeah, thanks. It's a nice place you got here, Mrs. Simmons. Oh, I'm so glad you like it. Yeah, I, uh... I don't exactly know how to say this, Mrs. Simmons. You see, I'm just a mug. I quit school a minute. I learned how to tell a teacher off, so if I ain't got the right words... You don't have to have the right words, Chris. You don't even have to get it said. You see, I know. You know about Tommy? Yes, all about Tommy. Well, how? Oh, somebody talked to you on the phone, too, huh? Yes, somebody telephoned me. Well, the last thing the kid thought about was you and Linda and coming home for Christmas. And he asked me to give you these gold watch for you, Mrs. Simmons. Oh, Chris. These for you, Linda, now on stockings. Thank you. It's nothing big, I guess, but Tommy didn't have much to give the way it was with him. You're wrong, Chris. Tommy had a great deal to give, and in his way, he gave it. I don't follow. A boy come home. Tommy couldn't come home himself, so he sent you to us, Chris. You can say about me that I was born in 1935 and I stopped crying in 1936 at the ripe old age of one. And you can say about me that I let a tear go I never knew I had. Christmas, 1961. Linda. Yes, Chris. Ah, don't get me wrong. You know, it's no crime being poor. Say it, Chris. Well, it's like this. It's Christmas, but I don't see any tree. And I've been sniffing close enough to the kitchen to know there's nothing roasting in that oven. You're, you're disappointed? Oh, no, no, no. Um, is it all right if I borrow Dabin outside? All right. Of course it's all right, Chris. Put me down as a guy who never knows when to shut up. A tree and a turkey, sure, lady. Nothing to it. Presto mafisto, I'm a magician. Here's your tree, lady, and here's your bird. What? Quite a remarkable feat of magic, Chris. Presto mafisto, eh? Sir Benjamin. I was wondering when you'd show up the kibbits. You, you are here, sir Benjamin. Yes, but immaterially. And please don't ask me to rematerialize, Chris. I dare not show my face in Bethlehem. Why not? I lived here once before my, uh, present situation. I wasn't very popular with my towns, people, I'm afraid. Oh, what they have against you? Bills. I died owing the butcher, the baker. And even the undertaker. Let's get back to your problem. Yeah, a tree and a turkey, and it's your problem. I'm dumping it right into your lap. You got me into this in the first place. I see. Had you any money? Not a plug nickel, and even if I had, the town is shut tight. But you're a talent. It goes, the tree and the turkey ought to be a cinch. You got any ideas on it, sir Benjamin? Only one. My customary way of acquiring necessary things while I was alive. Your customary way? Credit, Chris. And I hope never to be a borrower again. But I suppose it can't be him. And, uh, just where do we borrow this tree and turkey? Um, Uncle Cale's poultry farm. It's just past the merchant's bank a short drive. Well, I'm a stranger here. Move over. I'll take the reins. Get out there. There aren't any ghosts and call me crazy, but sir Benjamin drove a rig at a smart clip to a farm stacked with freshly cut trees. Take your pick of tree and carry it to the rig. And, Chris. Yeah, what? Now what? Unnecessary disturbance. I owe Uncle Cale a formidable deal already. I threw the tree on the rig and went back. Sir Benjamin was coming out of a poultry house carrying a great big fat turkey. There's a job persuading this feathered fellow. Here, take the leash and be on your way. Well, wait a minute. Where are you going? To leave a receipt for Uncle Cale for one tree and one turkey. I'd sure like to be there when he reads it. So would I, Chris. So would I. I hurried back to the rig, right into the arms of trouble. Bramble him. Hello, D'Angelo. What? Run and you won't get ten yards. Okay, okay. What did you do? Look into a crystal ball to find out where I was? I didn't have to. I just took the same train you took. Ah, Bologna, you had to see me to be able to do that. I had to see you. But were you invisible or something? Sure, sure I was invisible. D'Angelo, you killed me. Invisible. Oh, yeah? All right, what about me yard behind the mission? You walked right past me. You played your flash right on me but you couldn't see me. How about that? I'll answer that one. Maybe I didn't see you because I didn't want to see you. And I walked out. That's the truth, D'Angelo. I didn't want to catch you. I had to make noises like wanting to because I'm a cop. But I didn't want to make the arrest. Not on Christmas, D'Angelo. Well, you make me arrest now. Maybe I'm not. But why'd you tell me all the way here? To see what you were up to. To see if you really had a heart. So, you're bringing the Simmons, a tree and a turkey. Well now, how do you know about the Simmons? I knew Tommy Simmons. I saw him pass you those presents in the mission before he died. I phoned Mrs. Simmons and Linda that you were coming. If it was you, who telephoned? Me, sure. Who'd you think? What's it? I thought Sir Benchman. You thought who, D'Angelo? Never mind. Skip it. Now, I'll ask one question and then maybe I'll leave. Now, think carefully before you answer. Go ahead, go ahead, ask. If I arrange for you to keep in touch with the parole officer by mail, providing those letters were post-marked. Bethlehem. Would you... Would you like it that way? Would I? Brangham. Where else does a guy want to write letters from? But home. That's almost all there is to the story of Sir Benjamin, me, Brannigan, Mrs. Simmons and Linda. We had to take the door down to get the tree into the house and we had to find an extra stomach piece to accommodate the turkey. And then later, with the fire going and the lights down low, Linda and I sat dreaming on the sofa. I had my fist open with the keeps and her hand was right in mine, like a bologna. It's been a perfectly wonderful Christmas, Chris. Yeah, yeah, wonderful. And thanks to you, we had a tree and a turkey. Well, thanks to me, now the tree and turkey wasn't my trick. The tree and the turkey work? Chris, what are you saying? No, no, really, the thanks goes to another guy. A chubby little guy who sure has a talent for getting what he wants. His name's Sir Benjamin. Sir Benjamin? Yeah, why? Well, the coincidence of names. I used to call my father Sir Benjamin in play. Oh, we'd play Lord and Lady. My father and I, he'd call me Princess Linda and I'd call him Sir Benjamin. The coincidence of names, you said, huh? Linda, suppose it isn't a coincidence. But my father died years ago. Yeah, so did my Sir Benjamin. The guy I'm talking about is a ghost. A ghost? Yeah. A ghost like I met in a mission when your brother Tommy died. All of a sudden, a piano started going. Piano music, but nobody I could see was playing. Really? Our piano is playing. Yeah, yeah, so it is. Hey, you want to bet it's Sir Benjamin. Bet? How can you prove it? Well, easy. I toss a turkey wing at the piano stool. I bet your Sir Benjamin lets out a yell and complains about how easily he bruises. Do we bet? What will we bet, Chris? A kiss. That way or there. Nobody loses. Starring Larry Haynes and Santos Ortega and written especially for suspense by John Roberts. Next week, instead of another tale well-calculated to keep you in suspense, a gala song fest well-calculated to put you in a bright holiday mood. The seventh annual Christmas Sing With Bing will come your way over the CBS Radio Network to work next Sunday evening, Christmas Eve. Singing along with Bing, Catherine Crosby, the Norma Luboff Choir and those two fugitives from the Met, Charlie McCarthy and Mortimer Snurd. Suspense is produced and directed by Bruno Zorato Jr. Music supervision by Ethel Huber. Featured in tonight's story where Rosemary Rice is Linda, Joe DeSantis is Branigan, Catherine Roth is Mrs. Simmons and Bill Lipton is Tommy. Next week from today, we'll return with The Old Man written by Bob Cochran. Another tale well-calculated to keep you in.