 That's the theme from the Sears Radio Theater. Tonight, a story of the West with Lauren Green as your host. Here's a preview. Did he ever actually shoot anyone? Well, that's the story. After a while, folks just began to steer clear of both of them. Well, why Jubal? Well, because they were identical twins. You could never be sure which one you were confronted with till he opened his mouth. The Sears Radio Theater will begin after this message from your local station. This is Lauren Green. The town of Commodore's Gap sits on the rolling prairie in the Wyoming territory. It's nestled in an elbow of the Platte River just to the east of the Rocky Mountains. It's like any other frontier town in most respects, except for one curious feature. Just beyond the town limit stands a remarkable looking house. Three stories high, built in the Victorian style with a mansard roof, a tower, and a good deal of gingerbread trim. It seems as much out of place now as it did when it was built after the Civil War by Commodore August Milburn, late of the United States Navy, who for reasons of his own decided he wanted to settle as far away from water as he possibly could. He lived there only a few years before a hunting accident cut short his life. Two years later, a young man named Jubal Silatau came to town and inquired after the house. He was told no provision had been made for his disposal and whoever wanted the work of keeping it up could have it. Jubal moved in, but unfortunately he was not alone. He had a twin brother, Jedaya, who was as mean-spirited as Jubal was kind. Neither brother did much to fix the place up, but Jubal did tend the orchard and plant a small garden and folks liked him as much as they disliked Jedaya. So when it happened, they were stunned in disbelief and terror only the beginning of our story. Radio listening. Five nights of exceptional entertainment every week brought to you in Elliott Louis' production of the Sears Radio Theatre. Our story, Punishment and Crime by Percy Granger. Our stars, Parley Bear and Howard Culver. The Sears Radio Theatre is brought to you by Sears Robot and Company. Sears, where America shops for value. It is on the verge of statehood. The completion of the transcontinental railroad has opened the west to development unparalleled in modern times. But progress always occurs at the expense of history and even so slight a town as Commodore's Gap has a history. Or I should say, a memory or two it would be more than happy to have drowned out by the shrill of a locomotive's whistle. The year is 1890. We're in the office of the mayor, Edward T. Bone Pettygrove. He's entertaining a very important visitor. Now the main railroad line runs 15 miles to the north. Our surveyors have laid out a proposed branch line into Commodore's Gap, which I'll show you on the map. Wait down that end, would you? Surely. Here's the Cullen station on the main line at Elmore Springs. We lay track from that point south along the Platte River and build a station here. That looks pretty good to me, Mr. Peters. This, of course, is assuming that you can guarantee us the freight business we discussed yesterday. I sure can. Do you have any reservations about our proposed route? Nope. What about that house? Just north of town, that old mansion, it's sitting right where we want to lay track. Well, as far as I'm concerned, you can tear it down. Well, you have to negotiate to the owners, I suppose. There aren't any, not any more. Pace deserted? It has been for several years. And I think folks around here will be more than grateful if your men destroy all crates that had ever existed. Oh? Now, why is that? The last folks to live there were a couple of brothers named Silito. Jubal and Jadiah Silito. You ever hear of them? Never did. And you ain't been around these parts long. What happened there is one of the most grisly tales you'd ever want to hear. Make some of them Indian raid to seem like something out of Bill Cody's Wild West Show. The house itself was built after the Civil War by Commodore Milburn. Oh, is that how Commodore's gap got his name? Yep. He made a small fortune running a ferry service across the Platte River. Anyway, the Commodore died, and his wife went back east and was never heard from again. A few years later, these two brothers come out of nowhere and took the homesteading on the property. No one minded much at first because Jubal was a pretty nice fellow. Personally, I always thought he was a little feeble in the head, but he was harmless. And the local kids took a real shine to him. He never came into town, but when he'd bring some apples from his orchard to buy him some candy. But Jadiah, hmm, that was another story. Jadiah was mean as a buzz saw. The devil himself, if you believe in such things. He was a recluse and no one ever saw him much, unless you got too close to the house. And then? He threatened to kill you. Chased you off with a shotgun. Did he ever actually shoot anyone? Well, that's the story. After a while, folks just began to steer clear of both of them. Well, why Jubal? Well, because they were identical twins. You could never be sure which one you were confronted with till he opened his mouth. Identical twins and different as day and night. That must have been hard on Jubal. Yes, I felt sorry for him. It was pretty clear his brother's meanness embarrassed him, but I never once heard him say a word against Jadiah or against anybody else for that matter. I don't think he could have been cruel if he tried. I don't even think he really understood what cruelty was. Sounds feeble minded if you ask me. Now, how long did they live out there? Oh, nine and fifteen years. Then what happened? Well, sir, the whole gruesome story began to come to light one day about four years ago. I was a sheriff then. And my deputy was out riding the river scouting for traces of a party of rushers who'd been highly active in the neighborhood. He came to the rusting barbed wire fence that surrounded the Silatros property there. Land stretched down to the river, you see. And he cut inland. He didn't want any cook with Jadiah and figured no rushers would either. As he approached the main road, he saw something up against the fence ahead of him there. From a distance looked like a bundle of ragged somebody had thrown over the sagging wire, but when he got closer, he saw it was a man. The man was dead? Yep. Shot from behind. The force of the shotgun blasted hurled him against the barbed wire. He was killed by a shotgun. That's right. The same kind of gun that was owned by Jadiah. Coming to town, Commodore's Gap is finally growing on the map. Its future, like that of all America at the time, seems unlimited. But the future is built on the past, and the past must often be exorcised. Perhaps that's what the mayor of Commodore's Gap, Edward Pettigrew, is doing as he continues his story. Well, as I say, I was the sheriff at the time, and the body was discovered by my deputy, Jim Prescott. There he is, sheriff. Good golly. That's how you found him, thrown up against the barbed wire like that? I hadn't touched him. I come gut you, first thing. Half his back is blown away like he was trying to run. Looks to me like a shotgun blast. Let's get him untangled. Never look at his face. You ever seen him before? Oh. But these old bullies wearing you look like a tramp. Uh, check his pants pockets. See if there's anything that'll identify him. I'll check his coat. He asked me, it's pretty obvious what happened. I want to die of finally scratch the itchy on his trigger finger. Like you find, few dollars, bit of string, nothing more. Look at here. What's that? An old photograph. A woman. Looks to be middle-aged. That's very good looking. Well, I've known men to carry worse. You didn't hear anything, did you, or see anyone? Nope. But in this cool weather, he could have been dead a couple of days. Well, you better get back to town. Bring out a tarp and a buckboard. Where you going? To have a talk with Jadiah Silatel. Riverdale, I came inside of the house. The whole business made me uneasy right from the start. I kept trying to reassure myself as I approached that Jadiah wasn't going to shoot me, too. I had this nervous feeling. I was being watched. And I'll admit I was relieved when it was Jubal who entered the door. And I told him what had happened. He was stunned. The man was murdered. Shot in the back. From the size of the wound, I'd say at fairly close range. He was on our land. By your north fence. This is terrible. I don't know what to say. Who was he? I don't know. I'd like to have a word with Jadiah. Oh, Sheriff, you don't think... No, you don't really think Jed could have done such a thing? Where is he? He's upstairs, but he's asleep. In the middle of the day, he hasn't been feeling well. In fact, he hasn't been out of bed for nearly a week. You sure of that? Well, I haven't been at his bedside 24 hours, but I'm sure I would have heard him. Mind if I go up? Well, no, but I wouldn't advise it. He's very sick. I'm afraid he has scarlet fever. Scarlet fever? Has Doc Hanson been out seeing? No, you know he wouldn't come, Sheriff. But I can take care of him. That's pretty dangerous. I know. I'm very worried about him. I meant for you, Jubal. Oh, I'll be all right. In a day or two, perhaps, if I'm able to bring the fever down, you can talk to him. Well, I sure don't want to go catching scarlet fever out all this. Where'd you keep your shotgun? Here, in the parlor. Let me see it. Looks to me like it's been fired recently. He went hunting across the river about a week ago, just before he took sick. A week? Well, I don't think the body's been out there that long. You have no idea who the poor man was? Nope. All we found on him was this picture. Oh. You recognize her? No. Well, it probably doesn't matter who she is or who he was either. I'm taking the shotgun with me, Jubal. And I'll be back the day after tomorrow to talk to Jadiah. Oh. Without talking to him. Yep. Well, how'd you know Jadiah was sick at all? How'd you know Jubal just wasn't covering his escape? I didn't. I trusted him. I could have saved myself a lot of trouble if I hadn't. And then I might never have gotten to the bottom of the whole story either. So what'd you do? Wait for two days and go back? No. Something was bothering me. I kept saying that the identity of the dead man didn't matter, but I realized the more I said it, the less I believed it. If he was just a tramp, what would it matter? I kept looking at that photograph of the middle-aged woman. The expression on her face just wouldn't let me alone. The eyes burned with the heat of a visionary prepared to show no mercy to the infidel. The photographer's hallmark was stamped on the cardboard matting, and it was from a studio in Laramie. There was much going on, and I kept telling myself it wouldn't lead to anything anyway. I could have discharged my duties in the affair, but just digging a hole and rolling the dead man in. But something about the whole business just wouldn't let me alone. I rode up to the polling station at Elmore Springs and flagged down the eastbound train that same afternoon. By evening, I was in Laramie. It was a long shot. The photograph was obviously old. It was likely the man that took it was no longer in business. But I was in luck. The fella was still there. You, Mr. Lombarda? Yes, but I'm sorry. We're closed for the day. Well, this won't take but a minute. Oh, no. All my equipment is put away for the night. My name is Ed Pettigrew. I'm the sheriff out in Commodore's Gap. Oh, what do you work with me? I was wondering if you could identify this picture. Well, let me take it over to the lamp. Oh, this is very old. It's got your imprimatur down there at the bottom. You recognize it? Sillito. What? Sillito. Her name was Sillito. You sure about that? Well, I remember she came into the studio with two young men. Her sons? I don't know. None of them said a word. Oh, she said she wanted a picture of herself and two copies of me, but that was it. Did they live here in town? I think they did. In fact, I believe she's still alive. She lives in the Angus Horn. That's a free bag hotel over the old section of town. Related to them? Yep. How? And what was that tramp doing with a picture? Those were exactly my questions as I left Mr. Lombardo's studio and headed for the Angus Horn. Edward Pettigrew's search for an explanation to the brutal murder of an old tramp is making unexpected headway, but even more unexpected are the revelations that lie ahead. Did you find the old woman? In a way. Well, what do you mean? Either you found her or you didn't? Oh, unless she was dead. No, she wasn't dead. But was she in that ramshackle hotel? Like the photographer said? Yeah. The Angus Horn had been a fine hotel once. One of the first permanent structures in Laramie. But its heyday was long past and it was now a run down boarding house. The desk clerk wasn't more than a half step away from being in derelict himself. When I told him I was a sheriff and who I was looking for, his job dropped. And he gave a kind of a mazed laugh and flapped his thigh. Well, has somebody else been here already? No. She's been saying for years how sooner or later some sheriff's gonna come by with word. Word of what? I don't know. She sits up in her tent in the desert waiting for God or the devil which ever comes first. She's crazy as an old hood owl. But by golly if here you are. You in particular? I guess not. But she knew to expect someone. Why? That's what I hoped to find out. He gave me directions to her room. Top floor all the way in the back. The building was so old the paper was peeling, there was dust everywhere. Wasn't any lights in the hall and it was pitch dark. I found a room by the simple expedient that it was the only one with light under the door. Waited in the darkness a long time. There was no answer and no movement from the other side. I began to imagine things. There was a violence in there. I could feel it. I caught myself fingering my gun. I heard sounds. I listened to the door. It was like metal objects being tapped lightly against each other. I gripped my gun tighter and carefully tried the door. It was open. The room was just about the weirdest thing I'd ever seen. I realized what the desk clerk meant about the tent. There were blankets and old faded beds, beds draped over the windows and all the walls. They were even over the ceiling. It was like something out of the Arabian nights except it was all dank and musty. The old woman sat in the corner. And the clanking you heard? Well, she was eating supper. I confess I felt a little foolish about that. She wasn't surprised to see you. She didn't even look up. While she finished the last few scraps of food on her plate, I surveyed the room. The only light was from a single kerosene lantern. I noticed the glass chimney was broken and the flame was burning pretty close to one of the blankets. I almost said something but it didn't. Everything about the room seemed so strange and timeless. I figured that lamp would probably set that way for years. If it hadn't caught fire before, there was no reason why it would now. Finally, she looked up. Yes. Uh, is your name Silatou? What, what do you want? Is your name Silatou? Yes. Well, I'm Ed Pettigrew. I'm the peace officer from over to Commodore's Gap. I'd like to talk to you for a moment. You're here. There's nothing to talk about. Why have you been expecting me? Who says I was? The old fella who runs the desk downstairs. You don't want to listen to him. But you were expecting someone, uh, a, a, a sheriff? Tell me what's happened. I was kind of hoping you could tell me. Do you, uh, recognize this? What is this? It's an old photograph. Where'd you get this? Is that you? Might be. The photographer remembers taking it. He says it's you. How'd you come by it? Do you have two sons? Do you have two sons named Jubal and Jadiah? I had two sons. Yes. When was the last time you saw them? I don't remember. But they're living not 50 miles from here in Commodore's Gap. Together? You mean you didn't know that? But they've been there 15 years. Together? They're living together? Her whole country came towards me like he couldn't believe what I'd said. She was their mother. She asked me one question after another, hungry for news. When I allowed her how'd you die, I was the less well-liked of the two. She nodded vigorously and a fanatical edge crept into her voice. Jadiah was evil. Evil. Satan's blood filled in his veins. He was a judgment on us. But Jubal was good. He was the stronger he was. He would triumph in the end. I always knew he would. Jadiah's wickedness has been vanquished. The devil has succumbed. I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm afraid his wickedness hasn't been vanquished at all. He's killed a man. Killed a man? At least I think he has. Who? I don't know, but we found this picture on the body. You found that on the body? I don't understand. Who else would have carried your picture, Mrs. Silatou? I don't know. I'm not much to look at, sir. Well, anyway, it'd be a help if you could come with me and see if you could recognize the dead man. There's no need. What? What happens? Happens. I couldn't get her to say another thing. It was like she turned into stone before my eyes. As I left the old building, I tried to make sense of it. She knew who the dead man was. I was sure of that. But something I'd told her about the murder had frightened her in the silence. She'd been expecting me too. Maybe she'd been expecting the killing as well. That tramp wasn't just a passerby. And I figured for sure now that his identity was a crucial link in the case against Judiah. After all, at this point, it was only a circumstantial. Maybe the tramp was her husband, the boy's father. No, I thought of that, but he wasn't old enough. He wasn't more than four or five years older than Jubal and Judiah. But he had the old woman's picture in his pocket. Do you think Judiah put it there? And if he did, why? I didn't know. But I knew what my next move was. Illness or no illness, it was time to talk to Judiah and to make an arrest. Once we had a trial, we could subpoena Mrs. Silatou and compel her to testify under oath. Yes? Oh, Mr. Pettigrew. Good morning, Jubal. Come in. Thanks. I want to see you, Judiah. Oh, he's still very ill. You said you'd wait a few days. I know what I said, Jubal, but I'm saying now is I want to talk to him. Uh, he's asleep. He had a restless night. The fever's worse. If you could wait until he wakes up. I'm sorry, Jubal. There's been a murder and I aim to find out who that man was and why he was killed. Now upstairs, Jubal followed. At the landing, I asked him to point out Judiah's room. As he walked down the hall, it occurred to me that to the best of my knowledge, no outsider had ever been on the second floor of the house, not since he moved in. At the moment, my hand fell on the door latch to Judiah's room. I felt a pang of fear. I turned quickly to him. Jubal was standing with his arms at his side with a strange kind of idiot grin on his face as if he had ceased to comprehend what was going on. I opened the door slowly and went into the room. Blinds were gone. I became intensely aware that this room was even better than the rest of the house. There was no rug, no pictures on the wall, no furniture. Just a bed. And the bed was empty. Empty. There was no one in the room. Judiah was gone. So he'd escaped. He'd never been sick at all. I'd been duped. I'd made an estimate of Jubal's character and I'd been wrong. But he stood there looking so bewildered that a part of me still wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe Judiah had heard me coming. But the windows were shut. And moreover, the bed hadn't been used, at least not recently. And I had to accept the evidence. Jubal, where is he, Jubal? I don't know. I was taking the best care of him. I knew how. He shouldn't have gone. He's not. You lied to me. No, no, I didn't. What about this photograph, the one we found on the body? Now you said you'd never seen it. Well, I haven't. Who is she? I... It's your mother, isn't it, Jubal? I found her. She's living in Laramie. Is that your mother, Jubal? Is it...? What... What did she tell you? I lied to him. I said she told me everything, whatever that was. I thought that might break him, make him talk. But he just stared blankly at the floor, confused, lost. Well, what did you do? I had no choice. I put him under arrest as an accessory to the murder. But then I had to face the real problem. Jadaia had escaped. Somewhere, a maniacal killer was on the loose. Once I had Jubal locked up my next job was to find Jadaia. Jubal wouldn't talk. He said nothing that made sense. He continued to act confused as if he was bewildered by what was happening. It's a safe pose under the circumstances. Now, I figured there were two possibilities. If Jadaia was long gone already by the time my deputy found the body, he had a good four or five days head start and his wereabouts were anyone's guess. And the other possibility? That he was still in the house when I'd gone there the first time. That was true. He'd know I'd found the photograph of their mother on the body, and he could figure I'd probably try to crack her down. And he might make an effort to get to her first keeper from talking. Well, I could be fairly sure I'd beaten him to that particular punch. Mrs. Silatou had seemed genuinely surprised to hear that her sons were living together so close by. I could be pretty sure she hadn't been visited by either one, but he could have been on his way. Exactly. I missed the eastbound train, so I made the trip back to Laramieba Horse. I got there the following afternoon and went straight to the Angus Horn. That is, I went to the spot where the Angus Horn had been three days before of what had happened. It was burnt to the ground, nothing left but a pile of charred rubble. I was told the fire had broken out on the same night I was there. It had spread instantly through the old timbers and within minutes, the whole building was in gulf. And Mrs. Silatou, she was dead. Did you die? I set the fire? I don't know. It was possible. Something pretty bad had happened in that family that none of them wanted to talk about. But that included the old woman too. I remember the fear in her eyes. And I remembered the kerosene lantern with the broken chimney that was burning so close to the blankets and her sea burnt it down. She killed herself. Somehow, by my visit, I confirmed what she'd been dreading all those years. What did you do then? I went to see the Federal Deputy there in Laramie, an old friend with the name of Eli McCutcheon. We'd known each other for years. He'd been sheriff before he was appointed Marshal. It occurred to me if something had happened years before, maybe he knew about it. Yeah? T-Ball, come in, come in. What the heck rigs you to talk? Have a seat. Coffee? Thanks. I could use a whole pot. You look tired. There. That'll wash the dust out of your throat. Thanks. We had a bit of excitement here a couple nights ago, but I know a hotel burned down. I know. That's why I'm here. Oh? There was a woman living there named Silato. Oh, yes. You knew her? I knew the story. Why? What's your interest? Story? What story? It didn't involve her directly. It was her son. Jubal and Jena? Yeah, you've heard about it too. No, but they've been living out in Commodore's Gap for the past 15 years. Living together? Yeah. I don't believe it. In the old Milburn house? On friendly terms? I'd say so, yes. That's incredible. That's the same reaction I got from Mrs. Silato. Now, why is it so incredible that they should be living together? Well, we all know Jubal didn't have a malicious bone in his body, but I'd have thought even he couldn't forget what Jedi had done to him. What was that? Well, you've got to understand they came from a very religious family. The father was a farm brimstone preacher, and the mother, the one who burned in a hotel, was his chief tambourine beater. They lived and breathed the Old Testament and raised those two boys so strict. You wouldn't believe it. Well, Jedi was the black sheep, real mean. But Jubal, what was Christian as a boy could be, didn't know the meaning of evil. That's them all, right? Jedi was a rebel, but Jubal was, uh, put it to be a tiffic almost. He glowed. He gave off a kind of goodness. Well, I don't know if I'd go that far. No, no, you got to understand. His mama thought he was Christ incarnate. Well, she really did think she'd given birth to a perfection. Well, you can't imagine the effect that had on Jedi. I think he wanted to destroy him just as sure as Cain destroyed Abel. As it was, he did the next worst thing. And what was that? And Jubal was in love with a girl, I forget her name now. They were going to be married when he finished two years of seminary school in St. Louis, and then moved west to Oregon and set up a parish. Had it all planned out there, whole lives ahead of him. But, Jedi, uh, two years is a long time for a young couple to be separated. He went after his brother's girl. He stopped at nothing. He even seemed to go through a whole reform for her sake. Anyhow, she eventually yielded. But no sooner had she done that than the mass came off. He humiliated her in public and vanished, disappeared. A short time later, she discovered she was pregnant, took her own life. My God. Jubal never showed the least sign of anger. You'd think a tragedy like that's got to take its toll somewhere. But he never, never spoke a word against his brother, even now. It's almost like if he refused to admit it, it happened. But never the subject came up. He looked puzzled like he, uh, didn't remember. I think he was the most remarkable person I'd ever met. He did become kind of withdrawn, though, and he never did go back to finish his studies. After a few months, Jubal left town too, and I never heard of either of them again. Until two minutes ago, when you walked through that door. So he went off and found his brother and forgave him. Even took care of him. And it's had no effect on Jadiah at all. A nastier person you'd never want to meet. I know it's beyond my understanding. But, uh, what's your interest in all this? Well, I'm afraid Jadiah's gone and killed a man. I'm not surprised. What was the cause? I don't know. I don't know, and I'm no closer to knowing it than I was when we found the body. But the fact is, he's escaped. I came to Laramie because I thought maybe he'd try to see his mother. And now she's dead. Anyway, he's still on the loose. Well, watch for him. Are you staying the night? Can you come to the house for dinner? Oh, thanks, but I'd better get back. Eli, you know that even now, Jubal's still defending Jadiah. He covered his escape. I had to arrest him as an accessory, and he won't say a word. I don't know how two brothers can be so different, especially twins. Twins? So identical you can't tell them apart until they speak. Yet inside as different as night and day. Jubal and Jadiah weren't twins. There must have been four years between them. They didn't look at all alike. Yeah, but they've been living together. They've been living together. Jadiah was dark-complected. Jubal was blonde. There wasn't a slightest resemblance. That's impossible. Did you ever see him together? Did? I never did. I don't recollect that anyone did. But they were like two different people. So Jubal was living alone pretending to be both of them. Now, what was the purpose of that? It's like this, Mr. Peters. He didn't have a choice. What do you mean? When I got back to Commodore's Gap the next day, I confronted Jubal in his cell. Jubal? Yes? Yes, sir. Jubal, do you know why you're in jail? You say? I helped my brother to escape. Did you? I don't know. Did you? Was he sick with scarlet fever? Were you taking care of him despite all he'd done to you? No. Are you your brother's keeper? No. Did you help him escape? No. No, I never helped him to escape. I'll never help him to escape. He's here. He's right here in this cell. He'll always be here. He'll never get away. And you're gonna hang me for all I care. You hear me? Hang me! Because I'd just as soon kill you! Look at ya! So he was completely mad. But why? Why'd he take on his brother's personality? Well, I think it's what the Marshall said. The pain his brother caused him had to take its toll somehow. If not in the soul, then in the mind. He couldn't let out the anger directly so he took on his brother's personality. Did he realize what he was doing? No, he was completely unaware. Well, so about now and have a look at the mind. But wait a minute. You never told me who was the murdered man. Who do you think? Jadiah? Returned after 15 years. Why only the good Lord knows? Maybe to ask his brother's forgiveness. But I doubt that. Leopards don't change their spots. From the looks of the rags he wore, I'd say it was because he was destitute. And Jubal killed him. Cased him out of the house, ran him down and shot him in the back. The perfect son. So Jadiah won after all. And that's what the death court meant when he said she was waiting word from God or the devil. Yes. And Jubal, what happened to him? He was made to stand trial for murder. The verdict was guilty. And the prosecutor asked for the death sentence. But the judge said no. Why? He said that Jubal had had punishment enough. What he'd done was commit the crime. They sent him to an institution for the criminally insane. And he's still there? Yep. With the last I heard, he's begun to read the Bible again. It's been brought to you by Sears, Robuck and Company, where our policy is satisfaction guaranteed or your money back. Sears, where America shop for value. Punishment and crime was written by Percy Granger, produced and directed by Fletcher Markle. Your host was Lorne Green. Our stars were Parley Baer and Howard Culver. Featured in the cast were Lynn Berman, Peggy Weber, Joel Maross and Jack Carroll. The music for Sears Radio Theater was composed and conducted.