 The Equitable Society presents this is your FBI. This is your FBI, an official broadcast from the files of the Federal Bureau of Investigation presented as a public service by the Equitable Life Assurance Society of the United States. To your FBI, you look for national security and to the Equitable Society for Financial Security. These two great institutions are dedicated to the protection of you, your home, and your country. Tonight's file, The Desert Dictator. There is an ancient proverb which says, The sword of the wicked shall break against the wisdom of the righteous. History bears witness to the inexorable truth of that proverb. And likewise does tonight's case from the files of your FBI, in which a ruthless criminal, a killer, is defeated by it. On a desert in Arizona, two elderly men and a girl are seated before a campfire watching the red sun toys for a moment over the peak of a distant mountain. Gradually, the red turns to pink, then to purple, then indigo. Now, it is night. Doc? Sorry, freshen up that fire. You could see a little better. See better? Yeah. He didn't hear a word you said, Mesa. No. No, Larry. Uncle Harold, you know that when you're making notes, you get sowing growth. You could do it in the dark. You exaggerate by talent. You've got company. Wolf. Yeah. Well, he won't bother us. I imagine wolves are particularly interested in archaeology. Doc? Yeah? I'd like to ask you something. Go ahead. I like you, and I like your niece here. You're paying me good money to guide you around the desert. Well, just what satisfaction do you get out of digging stuff out the ground that's been there for hundreds, thousands of years? Well, that's a fair question. Let me answer it, Uncle Harold. Sure. You see, Mesa, the past can be a guide to the present. It's important to know what made one period of civilization die in order that this one shall survive. In other words, Mesa, what Larry means is if Hitler had used archaeology instead of mythology, he would have known better. Well, that makes sense, all right. Here, Mesa, the compiled data on the three ancient Indian cultures that followed each other in this country. The first period was called basket maker number one. See, at that point, the Indians were nomads, hunters. Then basket maker number two. What's wrong? Just the horses, Larry. That wolf may be flirting around with them. I'm going to take a look. Well, what's the matter with you critters? What you got your noses in the wind about? Settle down, no. Settle down. They are now, Miss Larry. I don't know, but something has. What do you mean? I got a feeling that we ain't by ourselves out here. What? What's that? I think I'll just get the old carbine ready and shit. I said drop it. Now look, I'm in the dark and you're in a light that makes you a real easy target. I ain't dropping no gun. I'll leave it lay there. The next one slams into you. Are you all right, Miss? Yes, ma'am. The Wild West boys ain't the only ones that can shoot, you know. Who are you? This company. Well, you're not exactly welcome. That ain't what I'm after. His arm is bleeding. He's been bleeding all day. Does it worry you? No. Thanks. What's the setup here? Well, speak up when you talk. I'm an archeologist. Do you know what that means? I know what it means. Mummies. Well, that would be the common Egyptologist. Never mind, lad. Where do you fit in the picture, sweetheart? Me? Yeah. This old ghee, your husband? He is my uncle. Bet you couldn't help. Who's Buffalo Bill here? Our guide. I thought maybe it doesn't matter the ground. Now just a minute. Shut up. Any bandage, sweetheart? Bandage. For my arm. Go get it. When I'm fixed up, I'll tell all of you what you've got to do to be able to see the next sunrise. Okay? A few minutes before closing time that afternoon, a lone bandit had held up the Canyon National Bank and Flagstaff, Arizona, and escaped with $20,000 after a running gun battle. The FBI office in Phoenix was notified. And shortly after sundown, special agent Blake drove into Flagstaff where he conferred at once with Sheriff Hickman. Two of my boys saw the bandit when he dashed out of the bank and jumped into his car. And they opened fire on him? Well, they yelled at him to stop first, but he had his car started by then when turned off. The boys fired a couple of shots, come in there to car and took after him. How did he make his getaway, Sheriff? Well, he managed to shoot out a tire. Was he hit at all, you know? The boys weren't sure about that. But once after they fired, they saw his car sware a little. Which way was he heading? He was aced on the road leading through the painted desert. Sheriff, did you get a description of him at all? Yes, yes. I got it written down here for you. I've already phoned all the Sheriff's between here and New Mexico. Oh, good. He was driving a black Buick sedan. Here's the license number. California. No, probably stolen. Well, we'll put out a three-state alarm right away. And after we check with California, we'll start fanning out men all over the state. All right. But if he gets off in that desert country, it'll be hard to find. Well, he can't stay in there forever. Sheriff, hand me the phone, will you? We'll get that alarm out. There you are. Thanks, sweetheart. Yeah, it's a real good vantage. You put it on with love and care. I put it on because I had to. Stop being a female. He's evidently evolved a theory, Larry, that you're really fascinated with. Never mind a book talk, Doug. Let me give you the real feeling on me. Please do. I suppose you've all guessed by now that I didn't get shot cleaning a pistol. I borrowed the 20,000 bucks that's in this bag from a bank today. Now, gonna have to borrow your car to get it out of this country. Our car? That's right. I didn't waltz two miles across this desert to your campfire just to get a little first aid. My car burned out of bearing. I traded in for yours, except that I pushed it over a cliff. What's so funny? You're in a bad way, unless you can use a horse. What do you mean? We haven't got a car. You're lying. Your car on this camp somewhere. You're at liberty to look for yourself. Of course, if you care to wait until tomorrow. Larry, what did you start to say about tomorrow? I was going to say the sheriff, or whoever's after you would probably be here by then. Be very glad to give you a lift. You were talking about something else where he wouldn't have stopped you. What was it? I just told you. What was it, sweetheart? Come on, tell me. Wait, miss. I'll tell him. Okay. There's somebody else in your party, right? Everybody else in our party. Okay. But somebody's going to be here with a car tomorrow. Yes. We're expecting supplies. I'm sorry, Uncle Harry. Don't be sorry, sweetheart. That helped. I was beginning to figure I was in a pretty bad spot. Well, since you think you see your way out of this now, perhaps you won't mind if we all retire. Sure, go ahead. But you'll have to hit the ground right here by the fire. Oh, yes, of course. In dark. Yes. In case you think you got an edge because you went to college, I just got out of San Quentin University last week. Apparently, I didn't teach you much. I taught myself, Doc. I taught myself how to stay up three days and nights without sleep. Oh. Yeah. So go ahead with the sleeper night. But don't count on me passing out. I'll be sitting right here waiting to say good morning to all of you. And a very special good morning to whoever's coming with that car. Morning, Sheriff. Good morning, Mr. Blake. Sheriff, this is Special Agent Tanner. Hello, Sheriff. How you doing, Tanner? I just talked on the phone today. Los Angeles Police. That black-viewing sedan the bandit Jews were stolen there three days ago. We know who the bandit is now, Sheriff. Oh, yes. Tanner here checked your description of him with our Washington office. His name is Matt Ricker. He just got out of San Quentin last week. Well, gone back to work again already, huh? Here's his full description. 5 feet 10, 165 pounds, black hair, dark skin, has a knife scar on his right cheek. Want me to put that out? We've already sent it out as a follow-up on your first alarm. Sheriff, have you had any reports from any of your men? No, sir. But by now, they're pretty well spread out over this part of the state. Oh, good. Tanner and I are just getting ready to take a run across the painted desert road to Gallup. If we get anything, communicate with the sheriff there. We'll be in touch with him. And we'll double back here to Flagstaff. All right. Good. Come on, Tanner. Let's get started. Well, how did everybody sleep? How do you think? You should have knocked it off real good knowing somebody was standing by watching over you. That was very comforting. Thanks. Hey, Pop, pour me another cup of that... What are you doing there? Just fixing the fire. Why? You're lying. You're doing tricks with the smoke trying to make a signal. All right. Get away from there before I slam that in you. You pour me a cup of that Java. I ain't waiting on you. I said pour me a cup of that Java. I'll get it for you. Pop's going to get it for me. I ain't getting you nothing. Okay, Pop. You asked for it. No, don't. Wait a minute. Listen. Oh, this is what I've been waiting for. All right. Just stay put. Everybody lets out a crack before I get that guy into control. There'll be some blood on his sand. Morning, Marshall. How's everything going? Just fine, Mr. Marshall. I got a good mess of supplies for you. Is that so? Yeah. Wow. Looks like you took on a new member since I was out here last, Doctor. That's right. Who is he? He just joined us last night. That's funny. What's funny? You look quite a bit like a man I heard about yesterday. A man they're looking for back in Flagstaff. And if I'm not mistaken, his name is Matt Rodgers. Oh, that's it. It didn't help you, Ricker. What do you mean? Look at the car. Your bullet pierced the gas tank. Instead of shooting your way to freedom, you've destroyed your only avenue of escape. We momentarily close the Equitable Society's presentation of the Federal Bureau of Investigation File on the Desert Dictator. We'll return to this case in just a moment. Tonight, I'd like to tell you a tale of two cities and 12 letters. One city is New York, where the Home Office of the Equitable Life Assurance Society of the United States is located. The other city we'll call Your Town, a prosperous manufacturing community somewhere in the United States. Now, on a certain day, 12 letters were exchanged between Your Town and the Equitable Society. Nine came from equitable members living in Your Town, enclosing payments on their Equitable Life Insurance policies. On the same day, three letters from the Equitable Society, also enclosing checks, arrived in Your Town. One check was for a very large sum of money, an investment of Equitable Society funds in Your Town's most important industry. A second check went to a respected doctor who was retired under the Equitable Old Age Security Plan. The third check went to a young man in Your State University, a payment on the educational insurance his father provided for him years ago. Well, that's one way that life insurance works. Money comes from Your Town to the Equitable Society. Money goes back to Your Town from the Equitable Society. Now, in place of Your Town, substitute any town, city, or village in the United States in which some of the Equitable Society's three-and-a-quarter million members live, and then multiply those 12 letters into several million a year. And it becomes very clear why we say that by serving its members, the Equitable Society serves America. Now, back to the file on the Desert Dictator. The cynical irony of quicksand is that the more desperately one struggles to escape from it, the deeper one sinks into it. Matt Ricker feels the grim touch of this same irony as he watches the gasoline flow from a bullet hole in the tank of the automobile in which he had hoped to escape from the desert and the vicinity of his crime of bank robbery. All right, so I blew that chance for getting out of here. Don't waste any breath laughing at me because I'm not worried a bit. You'd hardly laugh at the body of an innocent man lying there. You've got a lot more to answer for now, Mr. You don't think I'm going to sit here and wait for the Lord to come and get me, do you? Ricker, I wasn't very interested in you before, but now I am. What do you mean? But to this point, you've just been a petty annoyance that we've been helpless to remove. From where I stand, you're still helpless, Dave. That remains to be seen. What do you think you're going to do? That depends entirely on what you do. No matter what I do, the yards are all in my favor as far as you're concerned. They're all in favor of the rabbit, too. But he didn't win the race. Look, Doc, I got two more days and nights before I even have to think about sleeping. Now, let's get moving. In a particular direction? I'm going to put that up to Buffalo Bill here. But what up to me? You know this country like the Doc knows a book. What if I do? You're going to take us out of this desert to a good hideout over in the mountains somewhere. I'll figure out the rest when we get there. I ain't taking you nowhere. This time is running out. I'd like for us to be there when it does. Whatever you say, Doctor. We'll pack up and let's get moving. Oh, maybe this will get a word out of you, sweetheart. Well... I'll have to ride double with somebody. Guess who I've picked. Thanks. That way I won't have to look at you. Stop playing hard to get. Okay, let's get out of here. Failing to pick up any trace of liquor on their run to Gallup across the desert, Special Agent Blake and Tanner of the FBI started back to Flagstaff. And late that afternoon as they drove along the desert road, Blake saw something to the left of the road where a ground broke sharply off into a shallow canyon. Uh-oh. What's that? What do you see, Bob? I didn't notice that when we passed you this morning. What? Yeah. Look back there where the ground drops are. Wow. Looks like car tracks. Yeah. Come on, let's take a look. The car turned off the road here all right. The tracks go right out to the edge there, too. Yeah. Hey, Bob, look down below. It's Ricker's car. Let's get down there. Oh, wait a minute. Ricker won't be in it. He's heavy footprints in the middle of the tire tracks. He must have pushed it over the side himself. Yeah. I guess it either broke down or he decided it was time to make other arrangements. Look, these footprints go across the road toward the desert. Yeah. Yeah, there they go. That's not mistaken. Ricker was wounded. Look. See those little dark spots here? There's some more here. Hey, I just happened to think. You remember that archaeologist we met in town a couple of weeks ago? Dr. Endicott? Yeah, that's him. Well, from what he told us, I believe this camp is right out in this direction. Hey, that's right. And if Ricker were here last night, he probably saw and it gets campfire and made for it. He could have seen the fire from miles. We better get out of that camp. Where's that trail start? A few miles up the road. Come on. Isn't that Tom Marshall's car there? Yes. Endicott seems to have broken camp. There's something wrong about this, Bob. What are you thinking? Hold it. It's Marshall. This must be Ricker's work. He's evidently taken Endicott's party with him. There are no supplies here. Well, then he's trying to get somewhere to hide for a while. Come on. It's getting dark fast. Look around for any sign of what direction they took. Here are some hoof prints. A lot of them. Leading north. Well, there's nothing but open country to the north. Well, maybe the trail turns later in... Hey, wait. Find something? Yeah, give me a flashlight. I hear you. Now, look at that. Looks like somebody's been drawing pictures in the sand. Well, those are Indian symbols. Well, that's your dish, Bob. What do you make of it? Well, I'd say Dr. Endicott left him. That first sign is a snake. Ricker. Yeah. The stair steps. The stair step pyramid represents a mountain. The sun going down behind it means west. Yeah, but what's that twisting line across the mountain? Well, that's the symbol for a trail or a road. Come on, let's get Marshall's body back to the trading post and call Flagstaff. I want to get a map of this region. You know, this is real nice. Smells good, doesn't it? With you around, Mr. Ricker, it's difficult to tell. I get it, Doc. Very funny. How about you, sweetheart? Don't that moon kind of hit you? I have to agree with my uncle. Thanks. Hey, wait a minute, Pop. I told you not to fool around with that fire. I'm just putting on some more wood. And none of that signal stuff. I said I'm just putting on wood. Okay. You know something? These mountains really get me. The guy I knew in San Quentin used to make big talk about a country like this. He'd talk about a row of trees like there were. Beautiful Farley's Dames or something. You know, I know what he means. How did he feel about killing people? What do you mean? How did he feel about shooting someone in cold blood as you did today? That's why he was in San Quentin. Let's turn in, Larry. Hold it. You guys can turn in. She's gonna stay up. What? I want someone to help me look at that moon. Come on, sweetheart. Let's take a little walk. With you? Yeah. You're gonna be sorry you've done that. All of you are gonna be sorry. I'm just about fed up with all this foolin' around. The car. The car? The car way up here. I forgot to tell you there's a road that runs 50 feet west of here. What about that fire? They're a little too late, Mr. Laker. Oh, no, I hate them. Give me that gun. Let go of me. All right, Laker. Drop that gun. Drop it. Okay. Thank you, Mr. Blake. I gather you found the symbols. Yes, Dr. Endicott. There's one you neglected to draw, sir. The electric chair. Matt Ricker was tried and convicted on the charge of first-degree murder. He was put to death in the state penitentiary. The career of crime is a losing game. And neither the criminal's wit nor his cunning or his guns can overcome it. For they are no match for the thing which inevitably defeats him. They collect the skill and intelligence of those who enforce the law. He is but one. They are many. He is fallible. They are sure-footed. He is wrong. They are right. And as the ancient proverb says, the sword of the wicked shall break against the wisdom of the righteous. You'll hear about next week's case in just a minute. This week at the Equitable Society, Thomas I. Parkinson, president of the society, showed me a letter he'd received from an American mother who was mighty proud of her son. He's just been released from the Army Air Corps, holds two decorations, and is a veteran of 47 bombing missions. In her letter to President Parkinson, this mother said, I think the members of the Equitable Society can be proud of my son too, because the Equitable Society helped his father and me plan his education. The Equitable Society helped me keep my home after his father died and bring my son up as his father wanted me to. Well, you can imagine how happy that letter made us all. For no matter how often it happens, we're always glad to see what a warm, friendly feeling equitable members have for their society. Also, that letter reminded us that years ago, when that mother's son was still a baby, the Equitable Society's management was just as alert to the needs of the future as the Equitable Management is today. It made us happy to know that as we work hard today to keep the Equitable Society progressive and forward-looking, we're following a great tradition. Yes, this week and every week for over 86 years, the Equitable Society has been building security for you, your home, and your country. Next week, we will bring you another colorful story from the files of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, the bogus bankruptcy. The incidents used in tonight's Equitable Society's broadcast are taken from the files of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. However, all names used are fictitious, and any similarity thereof to the names of persons living or dead is accidental. Programs in this series of particular interest to servicemen and women are broadcast overseas through the worldwide facilities of the Armed Forces Radio Service. Tonight, the music was under the direction of Frederick Steiner, the author was Frank Ferries, and your narrator was Dean Carlton. This is your FBI is a jerry divine production. And now this is Carl Frank speaking for the Equitable Life Assurance Society of the United States and inviting you to tune in again next week at this same time for this is your FBI. This is the American Broadcasting Company.