 Hey, down here in New York, it's State Unity Live. Phil, how's my one-time fishing pal? Slowly, but surely going nuts with this business. All set to open the trout season? Not a chance. I am. Sunrise on opening day is gonna find me out in the middle of a stream, gently dropping flies in front of ravenous rainbows. Yeah, I know. And you know where I plan to do it? Yep. Oh? The point is, do you? Well, of course I do. I doubt that. On a private stream, only half an hour's drive from here is the clearest, coldest... What was that? Yeah, you see, I was right. Right about what? You're not knowing where you're going on opening day. What are you talking about? Didn't you hear me? Oh, I heard all right. But you're wrong. Oh, I am, hmm? Sure. Because, Johnny, you're going to do your trout fishing on the Esopas River. Down there in New York State? That's right, near the little town of Mount Tremper. Who says? It's just west of Kingston, the other side of a Shoken Reservoir, about halfway between... Oh, I know where it is, and I've taken some nice, fat native browns out of the Esopas, and I love it dearly. But what makes you think that's where I'm gonna open the season? Well, after all, if we're gonna pay your expense account... Oh, you are? Yeah. And for once, you won't have to hold back on it. Hmm, well, that's a little different. I kinda thought you'd see it that way. Tell me all. Come on down here to New York, and I will. Come on, my way. The CBS radio network brings you Mandel Kramer and the exciting adventures of the man with the action-packed expense account. America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Expense account submitted by a special investigator, Johnny Dollar, to State Unity Life Insurance Company, New York City Office. Following is an account of expenses incurred during my investigation of... The Blue Rock Matter. After carefully packing all my trout fishing gear and clothing to go with, including waders and a set of long johns, expense account item 1 is 575 Taxi Fair to Bradley Field. Item 2, $10.12, Plain Fair to New York. Item 3, $620, Cab Fair into Phil's office at 500 Fifth Avenue. Sure, sure, Johnny, and I know that old saying just as well as you do. The time that a man spends in fishing... Is not deducted from his lifespan. Right. Right. But I just haven't had the time these last couple of years. Well, why don't you unchain yourself from this desk and join me there on the esophagus? No, I'm afraid it's no go. Why not? I wouldn't dare show my face up there where you're going. Why not? Because the man I want you to keep an eye on knows me. Oh, who might that be? Thomas Gerald Aspenwald. And who's he? A man who would stop at absolutely nothing to get his paws on the Emory Archibald fortune. Archibald? Big stockbroker? The same. I thought he was dead. He will be within a matter of weeks on those incurable things. Oh. Where does this Tom Aspenwald come in? He was married for a while to Nancy Archibald, Emory's daughter, and last of the line, except for little Barry. Who's Barry? Barry Aspenwald, Nancy's five-year-old son. By Tom Aspenwald. No. Now, in spite of the last name, he's by an earlier husband who died about the time little Barry was born. I see, go on. Now, in his original will, the old man left half to Nancy, half to Tom. Mm-hmm. But in a brand new will, that's all changed. When old man Archibald goes, and that could be most any day now, the whole of his estate, including nearly a million of insurance, gets divided 50-50 between Nancy and the boy. I see. And Tom doesn't like that. Unless, Johnny. Yeah. Unless the youngster dies before the old man does. In which case, his share goes to Tom Aspenwald, as in the earlier will. Ah. Don't ask me why, but that's the way it is. In any event, Tom would like nothing better than to see the youngster out of the way. Right. Before the old man dies. And that's why I suddenly got worried when I learned that Tom's taking the child away for a few days. Do you think he tried to kill him, his own stepson? I think he would. Mm. All right. Now, what's all this have to do with my opening the trout season on the Osoapus? Or was that just a gag to get me down here? Oh, not a bit of it. Now, I've made reservation for you, up there at Mount Tremper, at the farmhouse of Mr. and Mrs. Fritz Hornblock. It's only a couple of hundred yards from the big pool below the bridge over the Osoapus. Blue rock pool? Yes. Where I've wet many a line, Phil. Oh. But not many people fish that spot anymore. Because unless you know every inch of it, and with the high, roily water this time of year especially, it's about as dangerous a place as there is. Right. So, when I tell you that the only other guests the Hornblocks will have for opening day... Tommy Aspenwald and the boy? Yes. Wow. If there's one place on that river to fake an accident and make it look legitimate, that's it. Yes. You like to run up there and keep an eye on things? Maybe prevent a murder? What do you think? This account item 4 is $28 even. Includes cocktails and dinner, a movie, a soft bed at the Lexington and breakfast the next morning. After which I spent item 5. $2.75 for a 3-day non-resident fishing license. Item 6, the usual $50 deposit on a rental car. I drove north on Route 9, crossed the Hudson and Poughkeepsie, north on 9 W to Kingston, and passed around the Shokan Reservoir to Mount Trempler. By the time I got to the Hornblock farm, it was late afternoon, and the weather had turned very windy and very cold. Now, you think I'm too old to carry these packages of yours, Mr. Dark? Well, no, but let me carry some of the fishing gear at night. 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, I'm strong as an ox. Are there any other guests, Mr. Hornblock? Here now. OK. Oh, looks fine to me. Good. Nice warm fitter bed for you. Take it. I built you a nice big fire here in the fire pit. Oh, I don't think that'll be necessary. Oh, me, meanwhile, the mama is out. You like me feelin' little schnapps here. To keep the cold away. Well, now, it just happens, Mr. Hornblock, that I brought a bottle along with me. Oh. You know, just in case of snake bite? Oh. Snake bite this time of year. Oh. What kind? Well, if 8-year-old Scotch doesn't offend your finer sensibilities. Well, why don't we see? Why don't we? There you are. To your heart's content. Now, let me see. Wow. Wow, wow. What's wrong? Just what are you up to, Fritz? Oh, that was good, Mr. Dollar. Oh, good. Will you join us? Oh, with that cold wind coming up out there. Maybe I'd better. My name is Tom Aspen. Oh, yes, Mr. Aspen Waltz. This is Tony Dollar. Hi, Tom. Well, hi. Dollar, did you see? Yeah, yeah. Sounds vaguely familiar. I don't know why it should. I'm just a fisherman up here for the opening. Yeah, yeah, sure. It's Mr. Aspen Waltz. Him and his little boy, that cute little berry. Oh, your son, Tom? Step son. I figure if a youngster learns to fish at that age, he'll be forever grateful. Sure, sure he should. Even I might learn sometime. Yeah. Oh. By the way, where is he, Tom? My wife, she took him in to do the shopping in the village. Yeah. And she promised to buy some more rocks for him. Rocks? Yeah. Well, he's crazy about those little hard candy. Sugar candies, red and blue and yellow kinds. Yeah, rocks, he calls them. Oh, I see. I hope she doesn't give him too many, though. Make him sick. Oh, so isn't the little boy entitled now in the game? Even if it gives him a terrible stomach ache sometimes? Oh, for a little boy, it always passes away. Except last time I thought the poor kid was going to die. Nine, nine. You just let him lie still for a while on the bed and he'll be all okay again, no matter how sick he thinks he is. Well, yeah, I suppose you're right. But, well, this time I've brought him up here to learn to fish, not to lie around with a stomach ache because of the way you and your wife spoil it. Now, Mr. Aspenwald. And didn't you say there isn't a doctor this side of Kingston? No, no, we take care of him. Don't you worry about him. You going out first thing in the morning, Tom? Yeah, I certainly am. Johnny, did you say? That's right. Yeah, I haven't missed an opening day in years. What do you plan to fish? Oh, I don't know. Somewhere along the river. You? I'm not sure yet. Well, I will tell you, boss. Yes, Fritz. You know where is the big hole below the bridge? Oh, you mean where the blue rock is? Yeah, sure. Of course. It's an ideal spot. And nobody else will be fishing there. Right, that's for me. Only one thing, though, Mr. Aspenwald. Yeah. I won't let you take that little boy there. Oh, why not? It's too dangerous, all those slippery rocks. Oh, now look. And with all that, I saw them in the early mornings. Nine. Well, with me alone. Maybe later in the day after it gets warm. Okay, okay, Fritz. We'll see. Now, you don't take him there. Okay, Fritz. Hey, now, wait a minute. Yeah? If that's such a hot spot. Sure it is. Tom, why don't you and I hit it at the crack of dawn? Well, now, just wait a minute, Johnny. Sure, that's a good idea. Sure, what difference would it make to a youngster of five? Well, it's simply that I promised him. I mean, a place where he'd be sure to get some fish. What's more, it'll be a lot warmer later in the day. Of course. And after you've caught your limit, we hope, you'll feel a lot more like taking the time to teach him. Yeah, yeah. You leave him with us in the morning. Now listen, you can play around this place the way he likes to. Does he really care about fishing at that age? Well, he will once I've shown him how. Well, he'll enjoy learning a lot more if he's warm and comfortable. I suppose you know all about kids. Well, not very much, but if he does enjoy playing around the farm the way Fritz says he does. Sure, sure, that's what he really likes. And you want the truth, Tom? Truth. Well, apparently you're the expert around these parts. I'm not, so I'll use whatever arguments I can to make you help me get a limit tomorrow morning. Johnny, now. And don't you think that would be the sporting thing for him to do, Fritz? Sure, sure. All right, then it's all set. You and I open the season with a bang at this hot spot of yours, and later when it's warm and the rocks are dry, we can both take Barry out and teach him how. Well, thanks, but I prefer to teach him myself. Okay, okay. Um, would you care for a little snort out of this jug? Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure. No, thanks. I've got to run over to Kingston to pick up some dry flies I forgot to bring along. Sure. That's much, much better. Yes, um, yes, I think so too. Say, more trout flies, did he say? That's funny. Is it? You should see what he bought. Every fly that was ever made. Well, um, more to the point, Fritz. Yeah. Purist, though he may be, and I like to think I'm one too. Doesn't he know that dry flies would be ridiculous this time of the year? Sure, sure he does. Some wet flies or nymphs or streamers may be, or even when you come to being practical about it. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, some of the nice fat worms that they have already for you, eh? And he knows that's the way to fish this water at this time of year, as well as you do if you want to catch the fishes. But there he goes. Yeah. Oh, and look from the window. Here comes Mama back with a little boy. It was obvious from the way he spoke of him that Barry wasn't overly fond of his stepfather, but he was a cute little tyke, and I didn't blame Mrs. Hornblock, a sweet, typical house-frow, for wanting to spoil him just a little. A little? Judging by the size of the sack of hard candies he clutched in his hand, blue rocks, he called them, she was doing a pretty good job of it. The kind he likes the very best, his step-puffers. There was something, something about those candies, though, that vaguely, vaguely reminded me of... I wondered... Yeah, yeah. And the blue ones, those are his favorites. Any kind that's blue, he loves it. Fritz, where's the step-papper? Just to Kingston to make an end. Tell me, Barry. You're looking forward to fishing tomorrow? Oh, I'd rather stay here and play with the pigs and chickens. Sure you want to. I need rocks. You want one, Mr. Hornblock? No, thanks. Now, come, Lee, you must wash off all the sticks. So much happier the boy is with the pigs and chickens, but he's bound, he teach him how to fish, and so he will. Willie. Huh? I wonder... There's only two of this. How Aspenwall planned to get rid of Barry, and I made up my mind to be among those present whenever he headed for the river with the youngster in tow. But you know something? That turned out to be a nearly fatal mistake. For two people. You have a cigarette? She had one. Newport. Newport filters cigarettes. Reel it up. Some smoke. Finest rich tobacco flavor I'd ever tasted. Real tobacco. The way I like them. The right touch of menthol and just a hint of mint. A great combination. She suggested. Makes Newport more refreshing to begin with. More refreshing on the way. She wasn't kidding. Been smoking, I've never since. Newports. Newport filters cigarettes. Judging by the way one of his pockets bulged, he'd added to his collection of flies and lures. During the meal, his annoyance, a couple of hours earlier, seemed to have disappeared. You must really like the new coat, Mr. Aspenwall, wearing it to the table. Would you like some more pig knuckles? Oh, no thanks. I just want to make sure it's broken in, Mrs. Hornbach, that Johnny and I hit the river in the morning. That's a good-looking jacket, Tom. I like those bellows pockets. Yeah, they're nice and roomy. Looks like you bought a pocket full of new lures, too. Oh, nothing of any consequence. A mama piece or some more salad. Here you are, Papa. And did you buy me some more rocks? Now, Barry, don't you think these folks gave you enough of that hard candy? Oh, no. It seems to me that everywhere I turn, there's some of it lying around, waiting for you to find it. I look for it. And every time I get a stomach ache, too. You sure do. Well, I don't care. No, of course you don't. And he always gets away. You're still set for the crack at dawn, aren't you, Johnny? I sure am. But just the two of you. Why, sure, Fritz. Just the two of us. Yeah, yeah. And, Barry, while we're gone, you can fool around the barnyard. Go on. Papa. Yeah, yeah. When you go to the village in the morning, you'll buy my little boy some more blue candy. Oh, blue candy. Yeah. Oh, there isn't enough of it around here. Oh, and I must take some butter over to Mrs. Hilger after breakfast. And I'll stay here and watch your chickens. That's right. Are you leaving alone? Oh, just for a little while. He can be overnight. Sure. If you say so. There's no guaranteeing that we'll bring in the limit tomorrow. You mean if we're lucky? Oh, luck won't even enter into it. Oh, no? No. Papa Hornblocks promised me a secret weapon. Haven't you, Papa? Yeah, yeah. That's it. A secret weapon. Like what? You just wait. I'll show you tomorrow morning after you're through beating the river to a frock with no results. The temperature was in the mid-twenties. But after fortifying ourselves with pork chops, hotcakes and bacon, three fried eggs apiece and plenty of steaming hot coffee, Tom and I set out for the river, leaving the Hornblocks to their errands and little Barry to play around the farm yard. We crossed the bridge, then worked our way down to the blue rock pool. Pritz had been right. There was a slick coating of ice on all the rocks and ledges. And incidentally, I noticed the pocket of Tom's jacket wasn't bulging the way it had the night before. And I meant to ask him about it. I wish I had. But having given up on lures, I'd resorted to Papa Hornblocks' secret weapon, a can of fat, sassy earthworms. Then, precariously perched on a slippery rock, I tied into the first trout of the season. Yo-ho! Hey, good boy, Johnny. Looks like you've got one. Oh, I sure have. This one's a dilly. Here I come for some of that secret weapon. Just watch your footing, Tom. Don't worry. My hand's free. I can hang on to bushes along the side. There he goes again. Oh, he's a good one. Johnny Dollar, huh? You think I didn't know why you came up here? Man, oh, wait a minute. Oh, look at him go! Yeah, well, look at you! Well, Bush gave me the shoulder. My feet went out from under me on the icy rock and I fell sideways into that treacherous frigid pool. But in twisting around, I'd grabbed at one of his legs and managed to hang on and then the two of us went in. And then all I can say is that it's a miracle we ever got out of that freezing, rushing, pouring the line. But somehow we did. Then up in the bank, the water on our clothing freezing into ice. All right. All right, dollar. So you think you won, huh? Just because you got me. And you did bring that youngster up here to kill him. You bet I did. All right, come on now. Back to the house before we freeze to death. We'll make sure the barry's still okay. Johnny, dollar, it's no use for you to say that. What? You know that he was only five. You said so before. You even saw him. So I knew you were on something when you came here. All right, so I goofed. Now come on. I remembered who you are and I knew you wouldn't let me get him down to the river alone. So that's why I made other plans. You what? Wait a minute. It's too late, dollar. From the wedding, there's a blue-green stain all over it. Blue vitriol, copper sulfate that you bought in Kingston. Oh, so you're smart now, huh? And the little chunks of blue vitriol look just like the chunks of the hard candy that that kid likes. And they both have a kind of sour taste. You see? Come on. It's too late, dollar. Because I left enough of that stuff around to find a kill him ten times longer. Come on. When he sees it, he'll think the hardbox left it for him. And even if they're there, he'll think that worry over his stomach ache before it kills him. Barry? You're too late, dollar. You're too late. Dramatic ending. I'm sorry. Not this time. Thanks to the fact that Mrs. Hornblot could change your mind when Barry along in her morning errand about the time they got back, I'd cleaned up every chunk of the blue vitriol that Aspenwald had planted, mostly around the chicken coop. So, the only casualty? Aspenwald, who nearly frozen the death in his wet clothes on the frozen ground where I'd knocked him out. And he was a very docile prisoner when I handed him in at the Kingston Hooskow. Expense account total? Including a bit extra for the Hornblocks? Oh, call it $200 even. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Here's our star to tell you about next week's story. Next week, a lesson in how to crack a safe. And I'm perfectly serious about that. Join us, won't you? Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Produced and directed by Bruno Zirato Jr. Music supervision by Apple Huber. Johnny Dollar is played by Mandel Kramer. Also featured in our cast were William Mason as Tom Aspenwald, Carl Weber as Phil Taylor, Louis van Rooten as Fritz Hornblock, Rainer Rayburn as Mrs. Hornblock and Sarah Fussell as Barry. Be sure to join us next week. Same time, same station for another exciting story of yours. We'll see you next week. We'll see you soon for another exciting story of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. This is Art Hanna speaking. This is the CBS Radio Network.