 And now, stay tuned for the program that has rated tops in popularity for a longer period of time than any other West Coast program in radio history. The Signal Oil Program, The Whistler. 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. I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. And now for the Signal Oil Company, The Whistler's strange story, Dark Voyage. The crowd gathered quickly at the end of the pier and didn't disperse when the police arrived and took over, urging them back and shouting orders. Jeff Denning, watching from in front of his little waterfront shop, finally hurried forward and pushed his way through. What's the matter? What happened to him? Get back, please. Who is that officer? Who was it, you mean? A guy named Angelus. Near as we can tell from the stuff in his wallet. Angelus? Not Dave Angelus. That's it. No one did you? Yes, I knew him. He used to come into my shop. They think he drowned, Jeff. It doesn't look like it to me. Well, if it's foul play, we'll get to the bottom. All right, folks, let's move back. Foul play with old Dave? Well, no, he didn't have an enemy in the world. He was a friend to all of us down here. That's right, Jeff. He had friends everywhere, old Dave, all over the world. Yes, Jeff, it's a terrible tragedy to all of old Dave's friends. You turn away, hurry back to your shop at the opposite end of the pier. But once inside, your expression of grief is replaced by an odd smile. A smile that's a mixture of amusement and determination. Uh, long distance operator, I want Mr. Stephen Curtis, Corbin Hotel, Seattle, Washington. Person to person, please. Wait a minute, Steve. I tell you, the schooner's there. I've got the maps. I know her exact position. Lots of guys have had maps. Steve, I'll pay your way down here. Split on what we can salvage, and it'll be plenty. I tell you, we can't miss. You in deep water? Well, not too deep. I tried myself, but, well, you know, ever since that injury to my chest. Okay, I'm between salvage jobs here anyway. Fly down in a few days. Is that all right? Uh, no. Make it tomorrow. Steve, I tell you, this thing is big. It's our chance of a lifetime. Okay. Oh, that's better. My shop's on Pier 9. If I'm not there, ask for me at the Red Angel Cafe. Well, Jeff, at last it's underway, isn't it? A venture you've been working on for months. The pieces are beginning to fit together. A map of a certain section of ocean floor off the Pacific coast. A goal. And now Steve Curtis, a man who could easily help you attain it. The following evening, waiting for Steve at the Red Angel Cafe. It's all you can do to keep from telling someone else how rich you're going to be. How the pair of you could share it all. But you reason that there's a time and place. That your months of waiting for an answer from Fay Atkins might soon be over. And for now, you can tense yourself as usual. Get far back in the smoke-shrouded room and listen as Fay finishes a song. Oh, Fay, the song is very nice. Oh, thanks. Mind if I sit down? Mind? There you are. Thanks. Fay, what are you going to... I'm going to let you take me out of all this. Oh, Fay, if you'd just say the word, we could make a go of it, the two of us. I suppose. You're not convinced, are you? Well, I'll tell on the same old kick that there's a special guy just for you that he'll walk right into your life. Oh, maybe I'm mixed up like lots of other people, but... Jeff, I... Oh, I've got a crazy idea. I've had it ever since I was a kid. I suppose it's the kind of stuff you get out of books. What kind of books, Fay? Oh, the kind that tell a girl that somehow, somewhere, she's going to meet him. Him? The guy. The right one for her. Jeff, I know it sounds dopey, especially coming from me. No, no. It doesn't. I was just hoping... Maybe I'm wrong, Jeff. Maybe the guy that's right for me won't happen all of a sudden. Maybe it's like he'll tell me, grows on a twist, blooms slowly. I don't know. All I'm sure of is when it happens, I'll know. I'll be sure. Fay, if anybody ever came between us, anybody that wasn't right for you... Fay, you're not listening to me, Fay. Jeff. What's the matter? What are you staring at? That man by the door. He's looking over here. Looking over? Well, that's Steve. Steve Curtis. I've been waiting for him. He's going to do a little job for me. Steve Curtis. Hey, you made a good time. Hey, Steve! Hey, Steve! Yeah? Yeah, over here. I want you to meet him, Fay. He's all right. Hard worker minds his own business. You'll like him. Yes. Yes, I think I will. What? He's a friend of yours, you said. Oh, yeah. Good friend. Well, then I'll-I'll probably like him. Any friend of yours, Jeff, is the friend of mine. Oh, yeah. Sure, Fay. Sure. Tonight's twenty dollar Signal Gasoline book goes to Richard G Armstrung of Imperial Beach, California for this limerick of signal I'd heard such great praise, how a little goes such a long way. So I bought some to see. Signal proved it to me why the saving is just like a raise. No signal, signal, signal gasoline. Nor car will go far with go farther gasoline. When tonight's limerick writer said your savings with signal are just like a raise, he was only telling half the story, because you'll also get a raise in spirit when you touch the throttle and feel signal swift shore acceleration, signal smooth surges of silent power. Yes, it's definitely more fun driving with a gasoline that helps your engine run more efficiently. And that's what makes today's great signal gasoline. Go farther. The meeting is brief, isn't it, Jeff? And you and Fay and Steve only talk for a few minutes. But somehow you have difficulty taking your eyes from Fay's face because of what you see there as she looks across at Steve Curtis. Steve doesn't seem to notice, but you're not sure. To you, there's an unmistakable light in her eyes, something you haven't seen before. You want to leap up and scream at him, but you don't. No. Because soon it's over and you're out of the cafe, walking along the pier with Steve towards your shop. You know, Fay seems like a nice kid, Jeff. Yeah. Yeah, she is. But I didn't bring you down here to meet her, Steve. We've got a lot ahead of us. What I'm about to show you, the salvage job is a fortune and enough for both of us for a lifetime. Sure, you've told me all that. It's like a deal over. Not until you understand one thing very clearly, Steve. Oh? Fay Atkins. She's not a part of this deal, not in any way. She's a little gem, Jeff, a treasure. I'm serious, Steve. Yeah. I think you are. Okay, partner, let's see how inviting your original proposition is to me. I'm interested. I'm sure we can come to terms. I'm glad you see it that way, Steve. Yeah, come on in. I've got the maps and charts right here on my desk. Now, sit down. I'll turn on the light. I want you to look them over. He's look okay. You really think there's almost half a million bucks aboard? At this guy, Van Bailen... I'll tell you, Steve, that schooner was loaded. Van Bailen had chartered her out of Malaya trying to make San Francisco. Happened just at the outbreak of the war. Uh, this, uh, it's mapped, Jeff. Where'd you get it? I, uh, an old friend. Oh, now wait a minute. That means a three-way cut. I thought you said it was just... The, uh, friend met with an accident. He's out of it. Oh, I see. Well, shake, partner. We're in business. Your turn. You won't have any trouble reaching the schooner in the diving suit. No, no, not with this layout to go by. I'm, uh, surprised you called me and on it, Jeff. You could work this depth yourself. You could have been the same since my chest was questioned at car crash, Steve. Can't stay under for more than a few minutes. Well, I'm not arguing. When do we get started? I'll talk to Captain Thorpe tomorrow. Captain Thorpe? Yeah, we'll rent his boat and equipment. He won't know exactly what we're after. It'll be all right. Fine. Wake him up bright and early, Jeff, boy. I'm getting anxious. I thought you would be. Look, Captain Thorpe, I've hired your boat before, and they want any questions. Is it a deal or not? There are other boats, you know. Plenty of them. Just asking, Mr. Denning. I'd like to know how to load supplies and all. You know how it is? Yeah, sure, I know, and I'll tell you all about it in due time. Well, how about it? Yeah. Yeah, I'll take you. Any course you need. 150 a day. Pay in advance. Wait a minute. Isn't that a little high? Like you said, there's other boats. Plenty of them. All right, Thorpe. 150 a day. In advance. Leaving Captain Thorpe, your heart pounds, doesn't it, Jeff? It's getting closer, your big dream, the money, and eventually, Faye Atkins. That night, you hurry back to the Red Angel Cafe to talk to her. When you catch sight of something and stop and stare, Steve, Steve and Faye together near the pier railing and back of the cafe. You slip forward cautiously and make your way to a point where you can overhear without being seen. No, no, you're wrong. Listen, Faye, I do know how you feel. It happened to me the same way, like that. But it's no good. Because Jeff's offered you something else, something you want more, money. No. No, that isn't it. Sure, I'm like anybody else where all that dough's concerned, but the guy's crazy about you. Look, you're a grown boy, Steve. You know Jeff and I wouldn't work out. It could. It could work, Faye. If you weren't wrong, sure. You'd never happened along. I wasn't one kind of woman on the outside, but a little girl inside who's seen some candy she's got to have. You're talking like a kid. Why did it happen to you? Tell me, Steve, why did it happen to you in the same way, the same instant it happened to me? Like that, you said. Did you mean it? Did you? Sure. Sure, I meant it. But I'm walking away from this, Faye. Jeff wants the money. That's all. Don't tell me you're the same. He wants you. You, Faye. He's told me many times. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. But Jeff, for you and maybe most of all for myself. I don't get it. Just this, Steve. You better come to your senses. Unless you're kidding me, because Jeff will never mean anything to me. Faye, they listen to me. No matter what you do or say, I swear it won't make any difference. There isn't a chance for Jeff. As long as I know your line, you might as well know it. Faye, you're crazy. Just plain crazy. That was subtle a long time ago. It's the things I'm crazy about that still matter. And as long as you're around, Steve, I'm crazy about you. You've lost her, haven't you, Jeff? And you stand there struggling to control the murderous rage that builds within you. Finally, you turn, hurry away. Faye's words keep boring into your brain. And you know that as long as Steve is around, as long as he lives, that Faye will never marry you. You decide to say nothing to them, but they're on your mind. Faye and Steve all that following day. And you're making plans. Plans that have nothing to do with your search for the sunken ship. Then on the morning you're to sail. You're with Captain Thorpe and his cabin aboard ship checking last minute details. As you leave him, step out on the deck. You'll see Steve standing near the gang. Faye is with him. Well, good morning, Faye. Oh, Jeff, I just thought I'd come down. See you off. I'm glad you did. Good morning, Steve. You all set? Right. You better get your gear below. Skipper's ready to shove off. It'll be okay. Jeff, when will you be back? Ah, it depends. Week at the most. You look worried, baby. Do I? Yeah, real concern. You don't have to be. This is going to be a breeze, this trip. Relax. Sure. Just that I have a strange feeling. What can happen? I don't know. Woman's intuition? Call it that, Steve. Forget it. Any time you say, Mr. Dunham. Okay, Captain. Yeah. Hold on, Faye. Steve, wait. Yeah, what is it? Uh, nothing. Coming, Jeff. I'll be right with you, Steve. Well, you better get a show, Faye. All right. Uh, Faye. Yeah? I've, uh, never seen you like this before. I've been out a hundred times. Well, it's just that I... Oh, I don't know. Relax. Nothing's going to happen to me, baby. Not a thing. The dawn of the following day finds you anchored not far from San Miguel Island off the coast of Southern California. The sea is rough, and you hesitate about sending Steve over the side. You don't want anything to happen to him just yet, do you, Jeff? But he insists on going below, and you're anxious to find out if the old man's charts are correct. So you give him his instructions and watch as he's lowered into the choppy sea. You're tense and nervous as you wait for some word from him. And all the while you wonder about old Dave Angel. If the story he told you about the sunken ship, Van Balen's goal existed only in his imagination. Jeff? Hello? Jeff? Suddenly your thoughts are interrupted by Steve's voice over the telephone, calling to you from the bottom of the sea. Jeff? Yeah, Steve. What is it? You hit it right on the button, pal. She's here. The ship's here. As you continue to talk with Steve, you try to remain calm, don't you, Jeff? What inside you're trembling with excitement? The old man was right all along. You found the ship. There's almost half a million dollars down there. And you intend to have it. Fine what you're looking for, Mr. Denon. Oh, Captain Thorpe. Yeah, we found what we were looking for. Good. What's the name of the ship? Maybe I know of her. That makes you think it's a ship. What else? Look, Thorpe, we made a deal. Remember, 150 bucks a day and no questions asked? Sure. Let's just leave it that way, huh? Okay. It was just one benefit. Jeff? Yeah, Steve. The ship's rocking pretty badly down here. He's on a lift. All right. Don't take any chances. Come on up. I was thinking one of the cabins. Looks like a strong box. Probably isn't what we're after, but I thought you might want to look it over. Bring it up. Back up on deck, Steve hands you a small box, and as the crew members help him out of the suit, you hurry to your cabin and bolt the door. It doesn't take you long to break the lock on that strong box. And then you open it. It contains only papers, correspondence, addressed to von Baelen. There's no mistaking now, is there, Jeff? And you smile as you thumb through the sheets of paper. Suddenly something catches your eye, a letter from the National Bank of Mexico. You scan it quickly, then glance at the date at the top of the letter. You lean back in your chair as the letter slips through your fingers and flutters to the floor. You sit there stunned, refusing to believe what you've read. But it's there, Jeff, in the letter. Van Baelen didn't carry the gold with him aboard the sunken schooner. Instead, he'd shipped it to the National Bank of Mexico three days before he sailed. Open up, it's Steve. I was curious about the box, Jeff. Just wondered. What's the matter? Nothing. Nothing. Oh, I see you got it open. Anything interesting in it? Uh, just some of Van Baelen's papers, I'd say. At least we're sure the old guy was aboard, eh? Yeah. Van Baelen was aboard. Look, Jeff, Captain Thorpe thinks the sea will calm down by nightfall. You want me to try again? No, we'll wait till morning. Well, I wait if the sea will... We'll wait. Okay. You're the boss. Steve stares at you for a moment, the puzzled expression on his face. Van he turns and walks out of the cabin. You find it difficult to cover the bitter disappointment you feel, don't you, Jeff? Only minutes ago you had a half million dollars within reach. Now nothing. And your search has ended in failure. But you can't tell Steve that, can you? Because that would mean turning back to port. And you're not just ready to do that. No. You're not going back until Steve's been taken care of. With him out of the way, you'll have a clear field with Faye. That night when the ship is quiet, you hurry down into the hole where Steve has stored the equipment. You find his diving suit and get to work on his phone line. It doesn't take long, does it, Jeff? When Steve checks his outfit, he'll find his phone doesn't work. But you'll handle that when the time comes. Quickly, you hurry back up the companion way. You step out on the deck. Oh, Jeff. Oh, Steve. It's sort of warm tonight, isn't it? Couldn't sleep till I'd come out for some air. Yeah. It is hot. What were you doing below? Looking over the equipment. I'm going down with you in the morning, Steve. Oh. You think that's wise? I mean... I'll be okay. I won't stay down long. Why take a chance? I can handle it okay. I know, but I just want to have a look around below. That's all. I won't stay down there more than a few minutes. Okay. It's your funeral. Dawn the following morning. You're on deck already in your suit when Steve shows up. As one of the hands on the skipper assist him, you give instructions. Tell him exactly what he's to do below. Then as his helmet is fastened on. Hey, uh, Jeff, something wrong with my phone. Oh. I can't get a rise out of it. Well, mine's okay. I checked it a few minutes ago. Well, it doesn't make much difference, I suppose, as long as one of the phones is operating. Will you be up to you to keep in touch with the ship? Yeah, sure. Okay, skipper. Guess we're ready. You can't help smiling, can you, Jeff, as you're lowered into the depths of the sea. A cold, silent world of weird lights. Fantastic shape swaying slowly back and forth in easy, graceful motion. Finally, your feet strike the deck of the sunken ship. You look around and see Steve being lowered a few yards away. As he settles slowly on the upper deck, he waves to you and turns and disappears into the blackness of the ship. Presently, you see his torch, a slender finger of light moving about inside. You move slowly along the deck, looking around for the weapon, something you can use to slash Steve's diving suit. Finally, you see it. A short, flat iron rod, part of the deck support. You examine the sharp, jagged edges of perfect weapon, Jeff. You tug at it, pry it loose from the rotted plank. Yes, it will be just the thing to rip open his suit, and when that happens, the sudden pressure will crush him to death. You've figured it all out, haven't you? And it'll look like an accident. Now you'll have to hurry, Jeff. You can't stay down here too long. You move along the deck again toward him. Yes, Thorpe. Sure. He's inside the ship. I will, Thorpe. I'll stay close, real close. That's right, Captain. You never can tell what might happen. Here's a free offer no card player will want to miss. The most asked questions on Canasta have been answered in an attractive folder prepared especially for Signal Oil Company by Robert Lee Johnson, the only Pacific Coast member of the National Canasta Laws Commission. You'll appreciate the easy-to-follow explanations of Mr. Johnson, who has written and lectured widely on Canasta. With this handy folder, you'll be able to put an end to all arguments about melding, taking the discard pile and other disputed points. And you'll win the argument because you'll be quoting not opinion, but the official rulings of the National Canasta Laws Commission. Yes, this folder is something you simply must have if you play Canasta or ever expect to play Canasta. And you can have one free at any signal station. No obligation, no purchase required. That means, of course, that the demand will be great. So I'd suggest that you see your nearest signal dealer soon and ask for your free Canasta folder. Only a few minutes after Captain Thorpe Schooner had returned to its home port, the news of the tragedy of San Miguel Island was sweeping the small fishing village. Men and women of the community stood in tight little groups along the waterfront, talking in low tones, shaking their heads. While in a dressing room at the Red Angel Cafe, the people assembled there heard the story from Captain Thorpe himself, Faye Atkins sat quietly, her face white and drawn. Well, that's about it, Miss Atkins. He was dead when we finally hauled him aboard. I was afraid something was going to happen. I tried to tell them, Steve and Jeff only laughed at me. I know, Faye. Jeff should never have gone down. Only for a few minutes, he said. He was trapped down there for over a quarter of an hour. Yeah. When he fell through that rotted deck, a heavy crossbeam dropped across his airline, followed it up. Nothing I could do. I'd have known Jeff was in trouble. I could have freed him in a matter of minutes. It was. I didn't find out what had happened until Captain Thorpe jerked in my lines and I came to the surface. And I got back down to Jeff. It was too late. But Captain Thorpe, I don't understand. When Jeff called for help, why did you bring Steve to the surface? Why didn't you? There was no other way Captain Thorpe could contact me, Faye. You see, my telephone wasn't working. Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program, the Whistler, each Sunday night at this same time. Brought to you by the Signal Oil Company, marketers of signal gasoline and motor oil, and fine automotive accessories. Remember, friends, this Sunday is the last time limericks will be used on the Whistler because next Sunday signal will announce something big, new, and exciting that you'll all be interested in. Featured in tonight's story were Bill Foreman, William Conrad, Doris Singleton, and George Neese. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen, with story by Joel Malone, 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 this same time next Sunday another strange tale by the Whistler. This is Marvin Miller speaking for the Signal Oil Company. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.