 Here to all presents, the Mysterious Traveller. This is the Mysterious Traveller, inviting you to join me on another journey into the realm of the strange and the terrifying. I hope you will enjoy the trip and it will thrill you a little and cheer you a little. So settle back, get a good grip on your nerves and be comfortable if you can. As you hear the story I call, I won't die alone. Our story begins in 1931. Two young men are speeding along in a car on a lonely West Virginia road at 70 miles an hour. There's a tight, tense look on the face of the driver, Steve Martin, as he takes the curves on the road without slowing down. His companion, Chuck Williams, wipes the perspiration from his face with trembling hands. He turns and watches the road behind fearfully, now and then glancing at Steve's face for reassurance. Turn on the radio, Chuck. Let's see if they got an alarm out yet. Yeah, okay. What do you think our chances are, Steve? Hard to say. All depends on how fast the cops spread the word. For a quarter of a million dollars shortly before closing time, word has just been received that the two bank robbers are now driving east on Highway 6B towards the Allegheny Mountains. That's not good. State Police Car 9, take up position at junction of Highway 11A and River Road. They're moving fast. State Police Car 10, take up position at junction of Highway 3 and Highway 6B. Steve, Highway 6B. We're on it. Yeah. That is all. Stand by for further orders. Steve, you got to turn back. We're headed for a trap. Take it easy, will you? There's still a chance. Twenty miles ahead, there's a small dirt road that'll detour us right around them. Twenty miles. We'll never make it, Steve. Isn't there any other road we can turn off on? No. Are you sure? I was born on these parts. I know every inch of the country. Steve, let's ditch the car and cut towards the mountains on foot. Are you crazy? It's 40 miles to the mountains. We never make it walking. I've got to keep driving. It's our only chance. We'll run right into that trap, I tell you. They'll be waiting with Tommy Guns. We'll be dead pigeons. Okay, then we'll be dead pigeons. I give up my share to haul right now to be out of this. You've got to get me out of this, Steve. You've got to. Oh, shut up. Look, Steve, if you were to let me out of the car and keep on going yourself, I might be able to get away. If the cops had been so busy chasing you, I'd be able to give them a slap. You lousy rat. Well, look out of my way, Steve. There ain't no use, both are getting caught. That don't make sense. You're great when it comes to sharing the dough, but when the heat's on, you want out. Yeah, but, um, what I'm to pay for, uh... You can keep my share at a bank corner. That's fair enough, ain't it? Huh? Not a good that don't do me if I get caught, but I'm sick of hearing you whine. All right, it's a deal. If I get through the dough's all mine. If I don't, all I don't. Thanks, Steve. Thanks. I'll never forget this. Come on, get out. Uh, which way do I go, Steve? Head across the fields until you hit a small stream. Then head upstream for about six miles. There's a railroad water tower there. You ought to be able to hop a freight. Thanks, Steve. Well, I'll be seeing you. Yeah. So long, Chuck. Now, let me see that paper. It says here they caught him yesterday afternoon at five. An hour after I left him. What'd you do? Run out on him? No, I didn't run out on him. I just played it smart. What are you looking at me like that for? There was no sense in both of that being caught, was there? No, I guess not. Where's the dough? What dough? The 254 grand you got in the bank job. Steve had the dough. What? Look what it says there in the paper. Go ahead, read it. Martin, when captured, told police he knew nothing about the stolen bank money. Police believe that Martin's unknown companion escaped with the loot. But I didn't fly. I didn't... Did he've had that dough when I left him? Then why didn't the police find it when they caught him? There's only one answer. Steve stopped and hid the dough someplace before they got him. Yeah, that must be it. Steve's too smart to risk being caught and having all that dough taken away from him. Poor guy. They'll probably throw the book at him. It's been so long. What happened at the trial? They gave him 25 years. 25 years? How did he take it? He didn't bat an eye. Maybe he'll think things over and squeal on me. Oh, stop sniffling, will you? Steve doesn't look kind of a guy to do anything like that. Yeah, sure. Why should he want to squeal on me? Besides, if he did, the cops would find out that I didn't have the bank dough. That it's stable got it. He wouldn't want that to happen. Sure. Well, it could be heavy. He'll be out in 18 or 19 years. Then he'll have all that dough head. I'd rather be 18 or 19 years in that dough. Well, it's been nice knowing you, Chuck. Wait a minute. Flow, don't go. What? Why not stick around? We'd make a good team. We don't need Steve. We don't, huh? And just what would I get sticking around? You haven't got brain, muscle, or dough? What's the attraction? Listen, Flow, stick with me and I'll get dough. I've always gotten what I wanted in the end. But Steve, you haven't got a chance. He had all the brains, all the guts. Yeah, and where did it get him? You notice I ain't behind bars? And I'll get that big dough yet. Three cheers. When you do, look me up. 17 years past. 17 years in which earth-shaking events took place. With the passing of time, Steve Martin became just a memory to Chuck Williams and Flo Duval. During the 30s, Chuck struggled desperately to make money in a half-dozen petty rackets, but failed miserably. However, with the coming of the war, his luck changed. And in the years that followed, he thrived on the black market. And with his new found wealth, he was able to win Flo Duval. 1948 found Chuck Williams a happy, prosperous citizen without a care in the world. How many times have I told you to knock before you committed this office? Look, Napoleon, save that big shot stuff, you stooge's. Same old flow. I guess that's what I like about you, baby. Yeah, I'll bet. Well, you've got that superior look on your face again. Who are you planning a knife now? I just got word that our old pal Steve is getting out of prison tomorrow. Steve Martin? He's only been 17 years now. It's a long time. I think I'll drive down to the prison, be there when Steve gets out. Before? You haven't bothered to write or visit him since the day he was sent up? I know, but there's a matter of unfinished business between the two of us. Unfinished business? Yeah, to be exact, 254 grand. You mean you're going after that dough that Steve has stashed away? But you gave up your share of that bank dough the day you and Steve separated. Man can always change his mind. Chuck, leave Steve alone. That money by rights is his. He paid 17 years for it. Besides, you don't need it. You got more dough than that already. Maybe so, but that isn't going to stop me from getting that 254 grand. And you ought to know by this time I always get what I go after. I got you, didn't I, baby? Huh? Remember, baby, when those gates open and Steve comes out, let me do the talking. Don't worry, I will. I don't want any part of this dirty stuff. Relax, baby, relax. When I get that 254 G's, I'll buy you a fancy diamond bracelet. Then you'll feel better. Hey, boss, they're opening the gate. Is that him? No, Steve's twice as big as that guy. Chuck, that is Steve. Can't be. That guy looks at least six. You're right. That is Steve. Hey, Steve. Steve, over here. What's the matter, don't you remember an old pal? Oh, Chuck. Well, I didn't recognize you at first. Well, I didn't hear a pal. I guess I'm kind of surprised to see you after all these years. Well, I've been living in South America most of the time. Only got back a year ago. I know I should have retten you, but I never was any good at that. Boy, yeah, sure it smells better out here. Come on, come on, let's get in my car. I've got a surprise for you. A surprise? Yeah, you remember Flo Duval, don't you? Well, here she is. Hello, Steve. Hello, Flo. It's nice seeing you again. Come on, Steve, get in. We're driving you to town. Thanks, Chuck. Okay, we'll expect the town. Right, boss. You don't look well, Steve. It's just this prison-poller-flow in 17 years. Well, that's all behind you now, Steve. A few weeks of good rest and good food. I'll be a new man. I'd like to believe that. Just take my word for it. I'm never wrong. Well, you seem to have done all right, Chuck. Yeah, not bad. I own a nightclub, a bowling alley, used car business, a couple of apartment houses. I can't complain. I'm glad to hear it. I'm not forgetting an old pal either. Now, Flo and me want you to come and stay with us until you get on your feet. You know, a house guest. I'd rather not, Chuck. I don't want to put you out. Put me out? Ha! Listen to the guy. Well, we got sweets, servants, everything. Steve, I just won't take no for an answer. A week passed, then two weeks, during which Steve Martin did little other than eat and sleep and take long walks. Chuck Williams played the role of the gracious host of perfection, and his guest lacked nothing in the way of comfort. So concerned was Chuck with his guest's welfare that he always knew exactly where Steve was and what he was doing. Then one day, as Chuck had known it would happen, Steve came into his office for a private chat. Are you busy, Chuck? No, no. Have a seat, Steve. Thanks. What's on your mind? Well, while I was doing time, my old man died and left me a small farm in West Virginia. That's where I was born and raised, you know. Yeah, I remember you telling me. Well, I'm going back to the old farmhouse and settle down there for a while. I see. Well, anything you say, Steve. Only let's keep in touch, huh? Yeah, sure thing, Chuck. When are you thinking of leaving? Tomorrow morning. Well, that's soon, huh? Well, we'll have to have a little farewell party tonight, okay? Yeah, fine. I'll see you later. Right, Chuck. Alex, come in here. What's up, boss? My pal, Steve, is getting ready to make his move. Guess he can't wait no longer to get his hands on that doe. Looks that way. He's leaving tomorrow morning for a small farm he's got in West Virginia. West Virginia, huh? Yeah. The farmhouse can't be more than 30 or 40 miles from where he stashed the doe. Is there any chance he might have hidden it on the farm? Nah. Cops caught him before he got that far. He hid that doe someplace off Highway 6B. How many of the boys you want me to take along? Take four. I don't want any slip-ups. Watch him day and night, and without being seen. Just leave it to me. Sooner or later, he'll lead you to that doe. And when he does, well, you know what to do. Yeah. Okay, then. You better start packing. The next morning, when Steve Martin took a train for West Virginia, two very inconspicuous men were seated at the other end of the coach he was riding in. They watched him get off the train at an all-but-deserted station in West Virginia that made no move to follow him. As the train started off, Steve hired a car to take him to the farm he'd inherited. It was dusk when he finally reached the deserted farmhouse. On a heavily wooded hill a hundred yards away, Felix and a companion watched through field glasses as Steve lit a fire in the farmhouse and prepared to settle down for the night. In the days and nights that followed, Felix and his men took turns watching Steve Martin's every action. And every evening, Felix would phone Chuck Williams and report that Steve hadn't made a move as yet. How many times have I told you to knock before coming into this office? What's the matter, Napoleon? Are things working out? I told you to lay off that Napoleon stuff. I don't like it. Mm-hmm. That must be Felix. Hello? Hello, boss? Felix. Well, what's happening? Nothing. He still hasn't made a move. All he does is fish and read. What about visitors? He hasn't seen anyone since the day he got here. Are you sure he didn't give you the slip during the night and get the dough? Not a chance. I got two boys watching a house at night. Well, maybe he knows he's being watched, and that's why he hasn't tried anything. I bet my last buck he hasn't spotted us. Uh, nothing ever goes right unless I'm running the show. I'm leaving tonight for West Virginia. I'll see you in the morning. Okay, boss. I'll be expecting you. That's a farmhouse down there, boss. Look through the field glasses. You can see it just like you were standing in the front yard. Sitting on the porch, reading. Yeah, reading and fishing is all he does. He hasn't been more than a couple of hundred yards away from the house since he got here. Well, he must have spotted you. That must be the reason he hasn't made a move. How could he have spotted us? You can see how careful we've been. Well, I'll wait a couple more days. See what happens. He doesn't move soon. I'll have to think of something else. Leaving Felix to continue his watch over the farmhouse, Chuck returned to the village and registered at the village in. The hours that followed dragged interminably and the hatred that Chuck felt for Steve Martin grew with each passing hour. In the evening, Felix drove into the village and reported that nothing new had occurred. Four more fruitless days went by. Chuck Williams was unable to contain his fury any longer. He got into his car and drove to within a half mile of the farmhouse then walked the rest of the way to where Felix and his men were hidden on the hill. Boss, what are you doing here? I got tired of waiting. You better get down, boss, as Steve Martin's lab will spot you. Forget that. We're through playing a waiting game. We're gonna move in on him. Move in on him? Yeah. Maybe after a light workout, my pal Steve will be willing to tell me where he stashed the dough. Ah, that sounds more like it. I never did go for this cat and mouse game. Before we're through with him, he'll be begging to tell us what he knows. I found some for you. Excited to pay you a call. I thought you'd get around to it sooner or later. You don't sound very glad to see me. That's a fine way to act towards a pal who was your host for the last three weeks. Didn't I treat you right? Yeah. That's what made me figure I hadn't seen the last of you. What do you want? To give you one guess. I haven't got it. I know you haven't, but you know where it is. So what? That money belongs to me, not you. That's where you're wrong, pal. That dough belongs to the guy strong enough to get it. That's me. Okay, then you go ahead and get it. Should I let him have it, boss? That's not up to me, Felix. That's up to Steve. Well, pal, are you gonna dig up that dough for me? No. You're not as smart as you used to be. You know I'll get what I want in the end. I wouldn't count on it. Okay, Felix, I guess it's up to you and Slim now. Hell talk. Weren't you pal? That's it, pal. Try getting on your feet. Hey, let me help you. Where's he, Felix? It's out cold, boss. You always did have a step in streak. You're thinking his condition, he couldn't take all that punishment. We give him any more, he's liable to kick off. Sure? Yeah, he's already got a couple of busted ribs and that beating around the head didn't help any. We gotta make him talk. We gotta. You have to figure out some other way. Close some water in his face. Okay. Come to, boss. Drop him up in a chair. Come on, you. There. Steve, can you hear me? Yeah. Felix here wants to try the water treatment. Water treatment? Yeah. Now, why don't you play it smart and tell me where you hid that dough? Won't talk, huh? Okay, Felix. Wait, wait, I'll talk. Well, it's more like it. Where is it? You could never find it alone. I'll have to take you to it. Just you and me. What's the matter with Felix coming along? Just you and me. Okay, pal, okay. Only I'm wondering if you're in condition to make it. Hey, Felix. Yeah, boy. Give him a few drinks to fix him up. Right. As soon as you've done that, Steve and me, he'll be on our way. An hour later, Steve, with the assistance of Felix, started to chuck William's car and got in the front seat. Chuck slid behind the wheel and started the motor. As he drove off, he waved to Felix triumphantly. In a few minutes, the farmhouse had faded from view. Steve, huddled in a corner of the front seat, fought to keep him crying out every time the car hit rotten the road. Now, and then, he opened his pain-filled eyes to look out the window. Chuck watched him with satisfaction as he drove. How much farther is it? You drive about five miles until you reach a small gravel road where you'll see a big sign saying the Devil's Caverns. You turn right there and go two miles. The Devil's Caverns? What are they? They're a big tourist attraction in these parts during the summer. Hundreds of huge underground caverns that run for miles in all directions. I mean, that's where you stashed the doll? Yeah. It's the best place in the world. How do you know you'll be able to find it again? I know every inch of the caverns. When I was a kid, my old man worked as a tourist guide there. I learned my way around from him. Okay, but you better find it though. I'm warning you. I'll find it. Now you should be reaching the gravel road in a couple of minutes. Turn right, then it's two miles to the Devil's Caverns. This is it. Park the car in that shed over there. I sure looks deserted. No one ever comes here until June. Is that the entrance to the caverns, that door, that's set in the rock? Yeah. You'll have to shoot the lock off the door. Is this okay? Yeah. No one will ever be able to spot the car here. But you said no one comes here until June. No one does. I take chances. We'll need a flashlight. I got one. Come out this way. If you're thinking of any tricks, don't. Remember, I got this gun, and you're in no condition to try anything. You saw to that. How come you didn't hide out here when the cops were after you? There was no place to hide the car. The shed wasn't here 17 years ago. Tough. Now it's us that you're lonely looking place. Yeah. Well, you ought to be able to blow this padlock off with one shot. You better stand over there. That does it. It seems like we've been walking an hour already. Right up ahead. You can find your way out again. All these caverns look alike to me. There's no way out. There's damp in here. What was that? Probably just a rat running past you. Place is full of them. Seems to me it's taken a long time to find that place where you hid the doe. If you're trying anything... Hold the flashlight a little higher. That's it. I hid the suitcase behind this rock. Got it? Yeah, that's it. That's it all right. I can still recognize it. Still in that bank rafters. Look at it. Over a quarter of a million bucks. What's so funny? Answer me. So the other guy always gets what he goes after in the end, huh? Yeah. Now I got the doe. And I'm asking you again, what's so funny? Go ahead, look at it. I'm looking. What about it? Yeah, you're looking, mastermind, but you don't see. All those bills are goldbacks. Goldbacks? Yeah, that's right. In 1933, the government called in all goldbacks. That's how the kidnap of Bruna Hoffman got caught. Trying to pass goldbacks after the government had called him in. You mean that doe is no good? That's just what I mean. You try to pass any of that doe and you'll end up doing time. You've known all along that doe is no good? Ever since 1933. Knowing it was worthless, I never intended coming here for it. But you may... I gotta let you have it, you rat, for leading me on like this. Well, why don't you? Come on, pick up that suitcase. Let's get out of here. Oh, uh, wait a minute. I forgot to tell you, Chuck. Tell me what? I'm staying here. You're staying here? Yeah, that's right. Look, I've had enough part of you. I start leading the way out. I guess you didn't understand. I said I'm staying here. Get gone or you'll get it right between the eyes. That doesn't scare me. You see, Chuck, there was something else I didn't tell you. Something else? Yeah. I didn't get out of prison on good behavior. I got out because the doctor said I was gonna die in three months. You're gonna die in three months? Yeah, that's right. I thought I'd died peacefully on my farm. Only you wouldn't let me do that. So I've decided to die here with you as company. Leave. You can't do that. You can't do that, Steve. You gotta get me out of here. You gotta. I don't have to do anything I don't want to. Get me out of here, Steve. I'll make it worth your while. I got dough. I got lots of dough. It's too bad you won't be able to take it with you. Steve, I'll give you 100 cheese. 200 cheese if you get me out of here. It's not gonna be tough for me to die because I only got three months anyway. But I'm gonna enjoy watching you. You're gonna get weaker and weaker as you plead with me to lead you out of here. No. Then you're gonna get desperate and try to find the way out by yourself. But you'll never make it. You'll go wandering from one cabin to another. And then in the end you'll probably wander back here to find me dead. And your flashlight's gonna go out. You'll be all alone in the dark with the rats and the bats. Stop it! Stop it or I'll shoot! And then you'll get weaker. The rats are gonna close in on you before you know it. Steve. Steve. I didn't mean it. Well, you made me. Steve. Stay something. Gotta get out of here. Help! This is the mysterious traveler again. Did you enjoy our little trip? What happened to Chuck Williams? Oh, the poor fellow was found dead a month later when the cabins were opened for the summer tourist trade. Seems Chuck had wandered from cabin to cabin without being able to find his way out. Evidently, he'd gone mad in his last hours before he was found with his pockets stuffed full of bills. Goldbacks. I recall another case in which two ghosts came face to face only to discover that... Oh, you have to get off now. I'm sorry. But I'm sure we'll meet again. I take this same train every week at this time. You've just heard the mysterious traveler, a series of dramas of the strange and terrifying. In tonight's story, all characters were fictional and any resemblance to the name of an actual person living or dead was purely coincidental. In the cast were Maurice Tarplin, Joe Julian, Art Carney, Alspeth Eric, and Alan Manson. Original music was played by Paul Taubman. The mysterious traveler is written, produced and directed by Robert J. Arthur and David Cogan. Listen next week to a tale titled... Death writes a letter. Another strange and suspenseful tale of the mysterious traveler. Don't miss the chilling tale titled Seven Casks of Death, written by Maurice Tarplin, your mysterious traveler, which appears in the current issue of Die Mystery Magazine. Now on sale at your local newsstand. This program has come to you from New York. Another program of dramatic action will follow in just a minute. Stay tuned to the station for official detective. Carl Caruso speaking. This is the mutual broadcasting system.