 Personal notice, dangerous by stock and trade. If the job's too tough for you to handle, you got a job for me, George Valentine. Write full details. Standard Oil Company of California, on behalf of independent Chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the West, invites you to let George do it. The Spider and the Fly, another adventure of George Valentine. Dear Mr. Valentine, I don't believe in intruding on anyone. I believe that few as they are, the scattered residents of Oakview County are among the nicest people in the world, particularly to me, a newcomer in the past fortnight, a woman alone. But, oh, Mr. Valentine, I also believe that never in my life have I been so frightened and upset as I have by my very next door neighbors. The strange people who hide behind the walls of the Barker estate. Now, please understand me. I can smile when people refuse to speak when they put up bars and signs and stick their dogs on me. But when they nearly cause my death because they've torn up my whole road for the sake of secrecy, believe you, me, the little worm turns. I'm so mad I could slit a throat from ear to ear. And you're the one who's going to help me to do it. When their bell you see, I'll wait in the car. Go on. Look, look, we barely got here and your letter didn't explain what we... Ask the directions. That's good enough. Say anything. You'll find out as much as I have. I never actually see them. Why should I tell you things when I can show you in one minute? Ring the bell. You'll see what kind of a place it is. All right, Mrs. Ponsonby. Come on, Bruxy. Sure, George. You see. Yes, you will. I wonder if she ever stops talking. Ponsonby? Wonder what she wants us to see. It's quite a wall around the place, huh? The Barker estate. It's funny. Not in the country like this. Oh, well, just some directions. We... Your signs are on the road, aren't they? I'm busy. We understand there's a little town by the name of Oakview. Your signs, I said. Excuse me. Six and a half miles next turn to the right. Only don't go bothering people. Oh, Bruxy. Isn't that a beautiful place in there? Yeah, and look at the roses that are... There's a cottage. That's all. Well, that's what I mean. It's not nearly as gloomy or big as you might expect from the fence and the property. Town of Oakview is six and a half miles next turn to the right. It's a honeymoon cottage. Can I shut the gate now? Honeymoon? So that's it. Lady, we should be excused. Honeymooners, of course. No wonder they want privacy. People won't be left alone. That's all. Now go on, both of you, get out of here. All right. Don't wave your soupsbone. And you can tell the bashful bride and groom to give you a gold star. You make a real effective guardian of the gate. Peace and goodwill. Goodbye, lady. Thank you and goodbye to you. And don't worry. I won't tell anyone anything. I'm not hired help. What? I said thank you. I am the bride. We always called her, and she looks like one too. That hatchet face, those gawky arms and legs. Names Emmy... Just a minute, Mary. You see, Mary's lived around here for years. Mr. Valentine, she's my cook. Spider. Yes, indeed, the spider. I remember... Just a minute, please. Both of you. Now, look, I deal in facts, Mrs. Ponsonby, not gossip. Now, you forced me into offending this Emmy, so... Well, don't you think she's offended me? Didn't she, you? Emmy Gunwaller, that's her name. Though Heaven only knows what it is now, calling herself a brat. Oh, I've seen what he looks like, Mary. He's a sharp, fat man, about as sour-looking as she is. Groom, can you imagine? I saw him from the road, driving back by the pasture and... For the last time, Mrs. Ponsonby, stop it, please. Now, listen. Your man and your neighbors, because they did something to a road, nearly caused your death, you said, but... That car did skid when they torn it up. Only if it's the road I saw coming back from there. I'd say you don't have any kick coming. It's on their property. Go on, Mary. Tell him about Emmy. Speak your piece. Go on. Well, that Emmy Gunwaller, that spider, she owns that Barker estate now. And ten years ago, young man, she came here absolutely penniless. All right, so what? Is it any of our business? Absolutely penniless. And from the poor branch of the Barker family. She was taken in by Francis Barker. And the spider was her bosom friend. Yes, she took a spider to her bosom. And I remember... Slow down. I remember once hearing that Emmy come right out and say, she'd get that house, yes, and the Barker money. And then people wouldn't poke fun at her anymore, being an old maid and so ugly. Well, we all thought the laugh would be on Emmy. And she'd finally be thrown out. She should have been. Because poor little Francis, they said, was going to find himself a husband. Just a minute, please. A lovely tall man from England named Frederick. And the spider was soft on him, too. Only it was Francis, of course, who won out. But then what? Nobody knows. It became a Francis and her husband. Ten years later, here's the spider, saying she owns the place. Do you understand? What became of the real owners of that place? What is the secret, the ones they are now, are so careful about? What did the spider Emmy do to that girl who took her in ten years ago? Well, Mr. Valentine, don't you think somebody should find out? All right, I'll go calling again, Mrs. Ponsonby. And this time, I'll stay long enough to, to clean up this curiosity. George, for heaven's sake, here we are. But what can you say? We've got no business, including on this piece. Look, I am here to tell this Emmy woman she'd better look out for her neighbors. Ponsonby and her old cook and probably every other gossip. They're the ones to look out for. I'm here to warn this poor thing and then go on home. Try to tell them we don't want any callers, Emmy. Please, we were very rude before. We only came to apologize. I'm Miss Brooks. This is Mr. Valentine. Your husband here didn't understand. We only wanted... Did you hear what? What? What? Her husband? This is Jeffrey Barker. Jeffrey is my cousin. Oh, I see. Well, some of your neighbors had assumed that... I can imagine a woman my age and the way I look. Yeah, and the way I look, I suppose. The short, fat groom. Cousin. Cousin. I'm a gardener. That's all, Mr. Valentine. A gardener. The poor branch of the family. Oh, how does he do? Mr. Barker? Yeah, Barker. The same name as the people who used to own this place, isn't it? Wasn't there a Miss Frances Barker who... Mr. Valentine, I think you should meet my husband. Oh, really, it isn't necessary. He hasn't been feeling very well. Oh, yes, it's important you should meet him. I can imagine what's being said. Frederick? Frederick, where are you? Patrick? Uh, yes, here. Yes, Emmy. Right here. What is it? I was just smoking in the dark. People, dear. Miss Brooks, Mr. Valentine. Oh, yes, pleasure, I'm sure. I haven't had a chance to get out my shot of sinus. Neighbors, are you? Sit down. I wanted to show you off, darling. The man that I'm hiding. The fly. The fly that I caught. Yes, here we are, the spider and the fly. Emmy, dear, for heaven's sake. My husband's name is Frederick Lunsford, from England originally, more than 10 years ago. Emmy, really, my dear, a total stranger. Never mind, Mr. Lunsford, I understand. You want us to notice his name, that he's the same man who married Francis Barker 10 years ago. I want you to notice everything. You're here now, the first people. You're inside, and I want you to be satisfied. Mrs. Lunsford, uh, what do you... Oh. Yeah. Precresce and Apache. 1909, 1941. Francis Barker Lunsford, Tombstone. Well, the memorial, yes, my first wife. It's Francis. She's been dead for more than nine years. Well, you know why I'm here, don't you? I came to tell you that your neighbors had hired me to find out your secrets. But you know that already. I came back, and I married my dearest friend's husband. I used to live here, and people didn't like me. I used to say horrible things because I didn't like them either. It's 1950, not 40. I used to say I wanted this house. I used to say I wanted Frederick. And now I've got them both because Francis is dead. Oh, look, Mrs. Lunsford, I don't want to know all of your life. There's been no one here in the years between because Francis died just after they were married, and Frederick went away. But we met again, he and I, just this spring. Oh, yes. All my secrets, Mr. Valentine, for you to tell that sentimental, gushy snoop who was with you in the car this afternoon, the juicy gossip, all of it, once and for all, because we want to be left alone forever. Forever? Emmy, Emmy, Emmy, you're embarrassing these people. It's absurd. No one needn't know anything. Mrs. Lunsford, we certainly want... Sorry, Frederick. It's been difficult for Emmy. Francis was her best friend. I never realised, but Emmy even carried a torch for me. Stupid thing, but it's all ten years ago. We are quite different people, quite happy, and for heaven's sake, wouldn't somebody like a drink? You see what a nice fly I caught. Yes, yes, darling, I'm too serious. They'll have a drink with us, and then we'll never be bothered again. We've told all our secrets, haven't we? We can close the gates now. I say whatever in the name of... Come on. Lunsford, be over here. Yeah, here we are. What happened? I didn't even know where I was. I came to... She must have fallen. Well, what did you do? Follow us over here to snoop some more? Oh, no. Blah, look at her cheek. No, I came too, I tell you. I was lying here. You what? I came here to wait for you, but something happened. Something struck me. I opened my eyes, and I was lying there on the road. You're the side of your cheek, your jaw. Car, you must have been hit by a car. No, no, it was so dark. I heard a step. I remember that. And then I turned, and I was hit. And that's all I know. I told you things happened here. I told you there's something wrong around this place. It isn't just gossip. Why? Why, where is everyone else? Somebody must have wanted to... to kill me, Mr. Valentine. Come on, Mrs. Ponsonby, you might be right. Only that's your all. Let's take you back inside and have a... George. Yeah. We'll close the gates right in our face. We'll never know the secret now, will we? Somebody tried to kill me, but the spider and the fly closed the gate. The spider and the fly... We'll return to tonight's adventure of George Valentine in just a moment. You may have been driving a car for years without ever hearing of the SAE. Those letters stand for the Society of Automotive Engineers, men who establish rigid standards for many parts of your car. Take the battery, for example. 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Why are these people so unwilling to allow anyone behind the high fence that surrounds their estate? So unwilling right now to assist you when you found Mrs. Ponsonby struck down near the road by the gate. Well, if your name is George Valentine, you don't think much of your gossipy, curious client, but you know it's time you found your own explanation so you consult the local banker. They're a strange couple, Mr. Reims. Yeah, she's a bitter nasty woman at times, that Emmy. Nor used to be. But spider, yeah, it was just a joke. Well, apparently Emmy's been very badly hurt by the townspeople. Well, I don't laugh at her. I haven't seen her for years. She just sort of well, left-footed. But a financial fool, I can tell that much. Doesn't bank here anymore. Financial fool, she managed to get control of that estate, didn't she? Ah, you've been listening to that cousin Jeffrey Barker. He thinks he should have gotten it, distant relative. I was thinking about Lunsford. He was Francis' husband. Why didn't he get the estate? You dig deep just to find out why a woman got hit in the road. Well, you won't find out much. There's nothing wrong at that cottage. Place belonged to Francis Barker. Lunsford inherited the bulk of the estate, but not that house. Now, that went back to the family. Went through several relatives. Finally, this spring Emmy got it. Now, there was no conniving just to round about family inheritance. Funny part of it is, in meantime, Lunsford lost most of his money from Francis. How'd you know that? Newspapers. He'd been married in between times, you know. Some Spanish girl back east had to pay alimony. No, I didn't know. No, it's not important. Except to show you, it's Emmy who's the rich one now and quite legitimate. By the way, how did Francis Barker die back in 1941? Search me. County clerk says there's no record. But there's a tombstone out there. Memorial, that's all. Now, I've seen it. Emmy put that up. Her dearest friend, you know. But Francis died someplace else, I guess. I don't know. Now, look, Mr. Valentine, I have no reason to investigate. Sheriff, Mrs. Ponsonby was slugged by somebody out there. Well, Emmy, husband, gardener, none of them know anything. And the most likely thing is, it was just some prowl. Sheriff, do you know how Francis Barker died? What, that way back it... No, no, search me. Did you know Emmy herself in those days? Ugly, ineffectual, pathetic little woman. All bark, my friend, really. No bite. Have you ever met Lonsford? Oh, yes, she's down at the river early one morning. Was in swimming. She's lucky to get him. Seems like a nice fella. My wife says Emmy's plenty lucky at all. Good looking Britisher and all. Well, any more deep, dark questions? Yeah. If you hadn't been feeling well, if your sinuses had been bothering you, would you sneak out for an early morning swim on a damp cold river? Would I? For the love of Pete Valance. Skip it, Sheriff. I'll run down the rest of this case by myself. Now I know how to do it. Well, the gate's open, so let's walk right in. Last night I saw a car drive out. Miss Brooks was reading, and I noticed through the window across the table. You know, you notice everything, don't you, Mrs. Ponson? I don't know what you mean. I certainly don't know why you dragged me back over here with that spider. I don't think you do, Mrs. Ponson, but... Yeah, that spider stuff you throw around isn't very nice. In my opinion, ugly Emmy is a very tragic person. And you on the other hand have been a phony from the word gold. What? Yeah, that's right. I'm on her side now. A phony? But I was struck by somebody. You don't think that... Nobody could hit you in the face like that without you seeing who it was. I never believed that story years in the first place. Why, Mr. Valance? Yes, you could have had a fight with someone out here while we were inside waiting to see Emmy. Sure. And remember something else, Angel. Bright eyes here, moved to this area only a few weeks ago after the honeymoon has come. Suppose she followed somebody. Stop it! Wait! You're not giving me a chance to... Mrs. Ponsonby, you're not very bright. You were crazy enough to believe some gossip and think we might nail something on Emmy for you. You're not unattractive. Son of a man a little desperate past 40. 35. And he's worth trying to get, isn't he? George, of course it's Frederick Lunsford who... Hey, hey. The door's open. I told you I saw a car leaving last night. Oh. Oh, there's smoke coming out of the chimney. There's somebody here, all right. Mr. Lunsford. Hello there. What did you tell us, Mr. Ponsonby? It's all as simple as you trying to get a man away from a woman only he wanted to keep out of sight from you. Hey, hold it, Bruxy. No, no, it's simple all right, but not... Look! Look here! Huh? What is it? It's a note. Yeah. It says, uh, Jeffrey, in case we're not here when you get back, don't worry. Frederick says we may have to go away on business. Something has come up or may come up, I don't quite understand, but don't worry. Signed Emmy. They've gone. Both of them. The spider and the fly. Don't you get the set up yet, Angel? Yeah, the big handsome guy and the little ugly woman. But she's lonesome and rich. And his first wife was rich when he married her. And in between there was a Spanish girl and another wife. Sure, he's the one who's the spider. Emmy! I don't know what he is. I don't care. They've gone now and that's all there is to it. Even if I've been foolish, it doesn't... What's the matter? I'm just thinking about something. Mr. Valentine. It's warm outside this morning, isn't it? Only in here it's even warmer. And if they've gone, then wouldn't... And it's smoke. Yeah! Come on! It's from the furnace! Oh, George. The fire's down, but it's been going all night. Look, there's a buckle apart steel. Even it's bent down from all the... And look, this... this silver filigree, it's a brooch. No! No! Emmy's brooch. Yeah. And here's her wedding ring. All right, Mrs. Ponsonny. Come on, come on, snap out of it. This is no time to faint, sister. Come on, come on! Oh, look, take care of her, Brooksy. I want to get the sheriff on the phone as fast as I can. A door slammed. Outside door, back. George, hurry! What is this? The study? Mr. Buckhead. Get your hands off me. What are you doing here, and going through that... Going through an empty wall safe. I saw Emmy's note in the front hall. The doors were open. I thought I'd better check... Check on what? Well, Emmy and Fred, they've got a lot of negotiable stuff they kept in here. Rearranging finances or something. They're too deep for me. Seem kind of crazier having so much cash around. Oh, no, no. The trick of the trade, staring us right in the face. Sure, sure, of course it's all gone. Probably miles by this time. Only where have you been, Buster? Oh, the city. State all night. Always do. Shopping once a week, but... Hey, why is the furnace on at a time like this? No, I can see, Mr. Valentine. There's a gas blower in that furnace, too, you know? He never told me he'd had it put in. All the tricks, all the tricks. Sure, this was planned a long time ago, friend. Ten years ago. What? Well, I mean, when Francis died, he must have been... Yeah, yeah, go on, go on. Well, him and Francis, who went to South America and they're no more. There's something funny about it. She took sick and died of cholera, he said. Nobody could argue. He... He sent back her ashes. Well, I'm here on as a manhunt, isn't it? Yeah, yeah, I guess so. You all right now, Mrs. Ponsonby? Now that it's too late, are you going to tell us what you know about Bluebeard? Yes, I'm all right. Perfectly all right. George, wait a minute. That door we heard, Slam. Oh, sure, sure. That was just... But it was an outside door, and Mr. Barker said he'd come in the front way, didn't he, through an open door? Hey... So it was somebody else. Slamspurt can't be far away yet. George, have a car. Bakka was using it. I thought it was funny he didn't wait for the fire to die down. Give me those keys. Running across... I saw him. Hang on. Through the paint. You get into that underbrush. We won't be able to... The river's on the other side of it, isn't it? Now he wants to swim. All right. Sit still, sister. I'll get him. Sit still yourself. Huh? He's in that brush there someplace. Hey, wait a minute, lady. Where did you get that gun? What in the name of heaven are you... I'm all the things you said I am. A fool, a stupid woman who chased after a man who tried to make you find something bad about the other woman who had him. I love Frederick. I couldn't help it. Every woman he meets... Look, sister, this is no time for all this... I told him that on the road last night, and he hit me. No, don't move. I'm another one of his wives, Mr. Valentine. Oh, separated yes or divorced. I don't know. Even no, none of his women even know. They all trust him like that poor stupid Emmy. None of his wives. I don't know how many they are. Maybe the police do. The ones that are alive. Those punts of a get-hold of yourself, will you? That guy's in there. I never believed he'd actually hurt anyone. He took my money, yes, but I didn't care about that. And I tried not to wonder about a Spanish girl who died on her honeymoon. What? Yes, and then when you finally found out what had happened to Francis, it's my fault. Don't you understand? Emmy, Emmy's my fault. I could have stopped it. The same thing over and over, but poor stupid Emmy. I could have saved. Don't you see? It's my fault. And I called her a spider. Mrs. Ponsonby. Mrs. Ponsonby. Don't touch me. Look out. Valentine, I'm going to get him out of there. Nobody else is going to touch him until he's dead. All right. All right. You've got the gun. Maybe you could have prevented a tragedy. So only, only before you get hurt yourself, you'd better pull the safety off of the... That's all right. Nobody's hurt. Stay there. Let me. He'll run. No, he won't. No, he won't. He's right there in the brush. He'll kill you. Be careful. Don't worry. Be careful. Now, don't worry. I'm all right. In here someplace. I'll take care of it. Nobody will be hurt. This tragedy's already prevented. Yeah. Yeah, I can see you in there all right. Come on out. Come on. Stand up. Never mind pulling the hat down. I can see you now. Frederick's clothes don't fit you too well. So come on out, Emmy. I killed him. I waited all these years. And I killed him. George, that poor thing. All those years. Yeah. Well, I suppose she loved him too, Brooks. But she figured out what had really happened to Francis, I guess. Yeah. Pretty bitter revenge, wasn't it? Ashes for ashes. To wait until she could get money. Until she could get him. To make him believe that she was just a soft-hearted sucker. Well, she laid it on a little thick, all that wanting to be alone and no Frederick dear stuff, she told us, remember? But how did you know he was the one who'd been murdered, George? Well, an old maid should have wanted to show off her husband. I thought that in high school chemistry. Buckle was steel in it, in the furnace, remember? Been in that heat so long it actually changed shape. But a light gold ring and a silver filigree brooch that last should have almost melted. So they were thrown in later after the... That's it, an afterthought. Probably just before we came into the house. Besides, he wouldn't throw those things in there at all. If he was killing her, he wouldn't want to leave anything that would point to what happened. But she wanted them found, of course, to explain her own absence, but sounded as though Frederick were up to something, like converting her money to negotiable things and taking... That's right. She might have gotten away with it if we hadn't gotten mixed up in it. Police would have been searching for him forever. Oh, neat little web she spun, wasn't it? Oh, no, he was the spider. I don't know, George. Witch is witch. You mean blue beer? Mm-hmm. Or the black widow. Maybe you've had the experience of buying a new car after a few months being pretty disappointed with the way it performs. It just doesn't have enough pep. It acts loggy and stoplight traffic, and some of the steep hills are almost too much for it. Well, that can happen to any car on the road if it's using gummy gasoline. Most raw gasolines contain impurities that form power-robbing gum. Careful refining is the only way to get rid of those impurities. And that's why Chevron Supreme Gasoline is super refined to prevent engine-sticking gum. Just try this super refined gasoline, and remember that Chevron Supreme has every quality your car demands for superior performance. It is perfectly balanced to meet every driving condition, perfectly balanced to give you better going wherever you motor in the west, and to give you plus mileage, too. Ask for Chevron Supreme where you can get competent battery inspection. That's at standard stations and independent Chevron gas stations, for they say and mean, we take better care of your car. Tonight's adventure of George Valentine has been brought to you by Standard Oil Company of California on behalf of independent Chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the west. Robert Bailey has starred as George with Virginia Gregg as Bruxy, let George do it as written by David Victor and Jackson Gillis, and directed by Don Clark. Marine Gamil was heard as Emmy, Lee Patrick as Mrs. Ponsonby, Eric Snowden as Frederick, Margaret Brayton as Mary, Larry Dobkin as Geoffrey, the music is composed and presented by Eddie Dunstetter, your announcer, John Heaston. Listen again next week, same time, same station, too. Let George do it. This is the Mutual Don Lee Broadcasting System.