 Box 13, with the star of Paramount Pictures, Alan Ladd, as Dan Holliday. Box 13, care of the star times, and close you'll find enough money to do what I want you to do. Go to the Mason auction rooms and bid on an old Chinese teakwood box. I must have that box, and if you get it for me, wait for further instructions. If you get it for me, wait for further instructions. No address, no signature. Just wait for further instructions. Well, as Bobby Burns would say, the best-laid plans of mice and men sometimes go wrong. And Bobby Burns knew what he was talking about. And now, back to Box 13, and Dan Holliday's newest adventure, Hot Box. Very interesting, Mr. Holliday. You never can tell, Susie. Now, suppose this teakwood box contains a tammillion crown jewels, and suppose international jewel thieves are after them, and I get mixed up and... Gee, go on, Mr. Holliday. That sounded wonderful. What happened then? Well, and then I... What am I saying? I must be out of my head. Well, I think you should go to the auction, I mean. Auctions are very interesting. I went to one once. They're like a gin rummage sale. The gin, Susie. That's extra. Anyway, maybe I'll see what's in that teakwood box. You'll be able to reach me at the Mason auction rooms. Well, right there's where the plans began to get twisted. I took a wrong turn and landed at the Mason auction rooms after the sale had started. Oh, oh, oh. They just sold the teakwood box. Sold it to a scared-looking little guy. He was about 55, pale, and he kept looking around the room while they wrapped the box for him. It wasn't big, that box. Maybe about the size of a cigar box. By the way, the little man hugged it to him when he left it. It could have been made of brandium. Okay, so I missed the boat, or I mean the box. But I wanted something from my trip across town, so I followed the pale little guy from the room. He looked around and saw me. I raised my hand to signal him, and that did it. He spent it out to the sidewalk like a rabbit. I went after him. I wish I hadn't because when he saw I meant to follow, he took a couple of wild looks around and then... Hey, hey, look out! He ran across the street against the traffic signal and then right into the path of a car. What happened here anyway? I pushed my way through the crowd that gathered. The little guy was lying on the street. I couldn't help it. He ran right in front of me. He ran against the light. Hey, hey, did anybody see or heard? Did anybody see? Yeah, I saw it. It wasn't your fault. No, no, it wasn't my fault. I was trying to stop. I wasn't going fast. I was just going to make the time. Well, is he hurt bad? The little man looked as though he was badly hurt. Somebody sent for an ambulance, then I remembered the box. I looked around for it. I was on the street. He didn't have it anymore. I looked over the crowd. Nobody had it. Then I noticed the cab at the hack stand at the curb. And getting into it was a woman with red hair. And under her arm was the package. Before I could push my way back to the crowd, the cab was gone. But I saw its numbers. Okay, it'd be easy to check and find the driver's name and maybe ask him a few questions. I waited on the street until the ambulance got there. The intern said it was probably concussion. But that evening I drove to the Marchmont apartments. Yeah, that was where the driver of the cab said he took the woman. I looked at the names of the mailboxes. Nine apartments in the building. Well, one way to get in was to push all the buttons and wait for the door to click open. I went in, but as I did, I looked out the door. Oh, there was a tail on me. I caught a quick glimpse of a man's face. He hurried past, but not before he gave me a good look. Well, that teak wood box was leading to something. After disturbing seven occupants of seven different apartments and getting seven nasty comments, I rang one buzzer. The name underneath was Ruth Cornwall. Is that you, Tommy? Yes, Ruth. Good evening. Who are you? I'm not the fuller brushman. May I come in? Of course not. I've come about a teak wood box. Will you please go? Oh, maybe you didn't hear me. I said I've come about the teak wood box, Miss Cornwall. I don't know what you're talking about. And if you don't go, I'll ring for the manager. All right. Ring for him. Well? Is this a joke? I don't know. That depends on you. Well, I... Come in. That's better. Now, who are you? My name's Dan Holiday. Do I know you? No, I... I don't think so. But I know you. Oh, you do. From where? From this afternoon, when you hopped into a cab with a package that belonged to a little man. Oh. If that was supposed to be a careless laugh, you need a lot of rehearsal. What makes you think I'm the person you're looking for? I just managed to catch sight of that beautiful red hair of yours. Really, Mr. Holiday? I thought this was a joke at first, but it's getting a little absurd. I think you better go now. All I want is an explanation. What's in that box? What's in that box that makes it so important? Well, if I knew what box you were talking about, maybe I could tell you. Let's quit waltzing, Miss Cornwall. You wouldn't have let me in this apartment if you knew nothing about it all this. But you were scared enough to let me come in and talk. That makes sense? Why should it? Because I could swear you seem relieved about something. Maybe... maybe you were expecting someone else to come after you. Were you? Of course not. All right, I'll wait. I don't think you will. Oh. Does this make you change your mind? Guns always have a habit of making a man think twice. Just think once, Mr. Holiday, about leaving now. Well, your arguments are stronger than mine, and I... Get out of here quickly. You're getting more company. Get out! Mr. Holiday, anyone planning to sneak up on you could do the same as I did. Ring all the buzzers, get in the building, then come up here. But... If you don't leave, I'll... I don't think you will. You're very anxious to have me get out before this company gets up here. And you would better click that front door. You'll get impatient. Go away. If I give you that box, will you leave? Ah, now we're getting someplace. Okay, you talk me into it. Wait. Here. Here it is. If I get out of here and don't come back... Waltzing. Nothing. Please, will you go? For heaven's sake, please go. You got what you wanted? Now leave me alone. Well, look, I... Will you leave me alone if he sees you here? All right, Miss Cornwall. And please never come back. Never try to see me again. I don't know what it was, but there was something about Ruth Cornwall that put me in sympathy with her. She needed help, wanted it. But it was as though she didn't dare tell me why. I went down the hall, ducked around a corner and stopped just long enough to look back and see a man go into her apartment. I went downstairs, out onto the street. Keep walking, Bob. Huh? I said keep walking, right up to that alley. Hey, what is this? I think you know. But if you want to play 20 questions, I'll let you ask one. This, give you a hint. Oh, when you pull that gun back, take it easy. I think you've got it caught in my ribs. Now walk far enough. Now what? Give me that box. What box? Ain't you funny? Yeah, I do card tricks, too. Hand it over. It seems to be my night to play give and take. OK. That's better. Now, good night, holiday. When the alleyways stopped spinning long enough for me to catch it, I stood up on it. I looked at my watch as closely as I could figure the character who tattooed my head and put me out for a half an hour. See what you get when you put an ad in the paper advertising for adventure? You get it, with lumps. Well, there's nothing more I could do that night. My head felt like the inside of a bass drum and a band. And all I wanted to do was hit Betty by and let my head rest on a nice soft pillow. Good morning, Sue. Oh. Mr. Halliday, this man's been waiting for you. Oh, you again. Do you sleep all right, Mr. Halliday? Like a top, I spun. Yeah. Do you want me to do anything, Mr. Halliday? I wish you could, Susie. Mr. Halliday, I know a man who wants to see you right now. Uh-huh. Can I persuade you to come along? Do you think? Yes, you seem to have a way about you. Susie. Yes, Mr. Halliday? If I'm not back in three hours, call up the insurance company and get back that last premium I paid in advance. Huh? That's enough. Let's go, Halliday. Here's Halliday, Mr. Conrad. Yes, please come in and sit down. What's the idea? Funny, I was going to ask you that. Here, take a look. No, that's the box. But it's empty. So it's empty. What am I supposed to do? Fill it with these strings? Shut your trap, Halliday. Take it easy, Jimmy. Maybe Mr. Halliday will tell us things. Now, Mr. Halliday? Like what? Now, look. I sent you the letter to bid on his box. I checked. Never mind how I found out who you were. Oh, well, then you should know I didn't get the box at the auction yesterday. I know, but you got it last night. From whom? Look, that's the way I got it. Empty. What more do you want from me? Information. Who had that box? I... Does it make any difference? You've got it now? I want what is in it. That's the way I got it. Jimmy. Yeah, Mr. Conrad? Did you see anybody take the box yesterday when that man was hit by the car? No. Whoever did got away first. But Halliday, you went to the march from our departments last night. When you came out, you had the box. And that's as far as it goes? Not quite. Where'd you get it from? Conrad looked hard at me. So he didn't know Ruth Cornwall. I could tell him and put her on the spot. But I didn't want to do that. Not until I found out a bit more. Conrad got up from behind his desk. I don't know what game you're playing, Halliday, but I can tell you this. You won't play long. And I'm telling you, I got the box that way empty. All you have to do then is to tell me who picked up that box at the accident yesterday. Yes, and what if I don't? Jimmy. Yeah? How hard is Mr. Halliday's head? Not very. Go ahead then. Wait a minute. Hold it, Jimmy. Okay, Halliday? What? Look, you want what was in that box, right? Sure. And let me go after him. What are you talking about? You didn't go to the auction yourself a bit for the box, which means that you didn't want anybody to see you get it. All right. Whatever was in that box is important to you. But if you beat me up, you'll never find out. You see, I'm the only one who knows who had it. Well, we could go to the march mod and find out. Sure, sure, but you wouldn't find anybody because there's nobody there now. You're smart, huh? Yeah, smart. It was a bluff it had to be, but Conrad was afraid to call it. If he did, he wouldn't get what he wanted, he thought. He stared at me and then... Okay, Halliday, I, uh... I don't know how you found out how important this is, but evidently it did. All right? How much do you want? What makes you think I want anything? You kidding me. Okay. We'll decide that after I get what you want. Bring the notebook and we'll talk it over. That's a deal. Uh, but, uh, you won't be alone, Halliday. You'll have company all the way. Oh, how nice. Jimmy has such a good face. You know, it'll do me a lot of good to be seen with him. Yeah, if you don't come through, it could also do you a lot of harm. And now, back to Hot Box, another Box 13 adventure with Alan Land as Dan Halliday. Well, I could have wanted the whole thing by telling Conrad about Ruth Cornwall. But I didn't want to drag her in unless she was going to double-cross me. Okay, there had to be a starting point. And for me, it was a hospital where the little guy who had bought the Box was taken after his accident. Well, I'm afraid you can't talk with him, Mr. Halliday. As a matter of fact, there was another man here yesterday. And he frightened our patient so badly that he had a relapse. Oh. Doctor, what's your patient's name? Ralph Sanders. He's an ex-convector. Just got out of prison a few days ago. Oh. Okay, thanks, doctor. Here's my name and phone number. If I can talk with him at any time, please call me, will you? So that was a dead end. Then I got the idea that the people at the auction rooms might be able to help. Here it is, Mr. Halliday. That Box was part of Lot 509. What does that mean? Well, Lot 509 was in storage here. For a time, we received the money to pay for the storage, and then it stopped. How long ago? Oh, it must have been over 60 days. We hold goods that long and then offer them for sale to pay for the storage charges. How long did you have this Lot 509? Well, let me look at the books. Four years. Do you know the name of the person who owned the goods? James R. Conlon. At least that's the name on our books. Did you make any attempt to locate this Conlon after the payments on storage stopped coming in? Yes, we did, but we couldn't. I see. Oh, one more question. Did you advertise his sale? Oh, yes, we're bound to by law. You advertise in the papers? That's right. Thanks very much. Well, there was one place to find out about James R. Conlon. The morgue of the Star Times. And what I found out began to slope the merry-go-round enough to let me see some of the things a little more clearly. Then at my apartment later in the day... Hello? Mr. Holliday? Yes, who's this? This is Dr. Evans. City Hospital. Oh, yes. Sanders is conscious now. Oh, fine. But since you were the only person who left his name, I thought you'd want to know. May I see him? Well, you haven't much time. I'll be right there, Doctor. I saw the poor little guy. He was pathetically anxious to talk. He had been Conlon's cellmate in the penitentiary. And Conlon had talked. He had to talk to someone, tell about something he was saving up for when he got out. And it was Sanders he told about a teakwood box. And what was in it? Never dreaming he'd die in prison before Sanders got out. Okay. Now it was my turn. I went outside. Hello, Jimmy. Still playing tag with me? What's the idea, Holliday? I'm full of ideas. But the best one of all is let's go to Conrad. You got that book? Not with me, pretty boy. You want to get your head singed? Look, we're going to Conrad right now. Why, I ought to poke you right on the note. You ought to, but you won't. Now let's get going. We stand here one more second. I'll let that notebook loose where it'll do the most good. Or the most harm. And that big ears depends on the point of view. Why, I... Okay. Okay, but you're asking for trouble. Fine. Let's go hunt for it, shall we? Hello, Holliday. Glad to see you back. You're an optimist, Conrad. Here, I brought your son back with me. Say hello to Papa, Jimmy. What's this all about? I just got tired of having Jimmy haunt him. Jimmy, has he got it? Yeah. Where is it, Holliday? I know. With you? Don't be silly. Jimmy, you'll let him get it and do a fade-out on you. Oh, no, I didn't. Oh, no, Jimmy was with me all the way and a more gruesome companion no man could ask for. Stop yapping. Okay. A while ago, I talked with a little guy named Ralph Sanders. Sanders? So? He was Conlon's cellmate in prison. Go on. It seems Mr. Conlon had a notebook filled with a lot of details that would blow you and your nice punch right out of the window. Where is it? As if I'd tell you. Now listen, you found out about the box because Sanders talked. The prison grapevine picked it up and it got to you. You wrote me, wanted me to bid on the box and get it for you. The joke's on you, Conrad, because I didn't have the faintest idea what was in that box before today. How long do you think you'll enjoy this big joke on me? A long, long time. I'm walking out of here right now with no tail on me. Yeah? Uh-huh. Because if I don't show up where I'm supposed to, in exactly one hour, that notebook goes to the police. Listen, you're smart. We can make a deal. Oh, no. Remember, I'm walking out of here. Oh, I forgot. I forgot. Good night, Jimmy. Well, his has not very hard either, is it? Sure, I walked out all right, but I expected to feel my back pick up a few ounces of lead on the way. Didn't. I was very happy about that. Ah, there was still one more thing to clear up with Cornwall. If she had that notebook and Conrad found out about it, then I was out in the cold. I got to the Marchman apartment as fast as I could because it could be that she was going to do a little business with Conrad herself. I got in, went to her apartment. Yes? I'm sorry I couldn't wait to be invited in. I told you not to come back here. Yes, I know, but I'm back. What do you want? Last night you gave me a box. Now I want what was in it. There was nothing in it. Not even a notebook with some very startling things in it? About a certain Mr. Conrad in his gang? So you found out about this? Yeah, but in finding out, I put myself in a wonderful spot to get acquainted with a mortician. All right, so you know. But what good will it do you? What good will it do you? That's no concern of yours. Oh, yes it is. Put yourself in my place. Conrad thinks I've got the notebook. He also knows who I am and where I live. Now, when he finds out I don't have the notebook and can't hold it over his head, he's going to get awfully, awfully rough with me. That seems to be your problem, Mr. Holiday. And you won't give me any help with it. Why should I? Fair question. I'll answer it. Because I don't think you want to see me get killed. Look, I can't help you. Do you understand that? I can't help you at all. Where's the book? It's no use. I won't tell you. I won't tell you anything. Anything? Why did you put that on the end? Mr. Holiday, the last time you were here, I was at a disadvantage. Now our positions have reversed. I think you'll leave now without giving me any more trouble. All right. You ask for it. You'll get it. What do you mean by that? I did a lot of reading today, Miss Conlon. No. No, don't call me that. You don't know that. You can't know that. No. No, you can't know that. It was a throw in the dark, but it did where I wanted it to. The clippings on Conlon mentioned something about a daughter. Not much. But enough to give me a hint that Ruth Cornwall and Ruth Conlon were the same. I watched her for a few seconds, and then... All right. I'm Ruth Conlon. Are you satisfied now? Not quite. What I said before still goes. Do you want me to get killed? No. Of course not. And what are you doing with that notebook? Well, I... if I tell you, what will you do? That depends on what you tell me. All right. I'll tell you. My father died in prison. No one knows I'm his daughter. No one. For four years I've lived under another name, waiting for him to come home, waiting to help him get even with Conrad and the men who sent him to prison. Sure, he could have told things at his trial. He knew he'd been double-crossed, but he wanted to wait. And how? And how I... I don't know. What don't you know? I'm going to get married. You see, I didn't count on falling in love at 35. Falling in love with Tommy. Oh, he was the man who came here last night after I left. Yes. I had to get that notebook. Because if someone else got hold of it, all the old scandal would be raked up again. People would find out who I was that my father died in prison. Tommy would find out. I see. I waited a long time to get even with Conrad, but now I don't want to. Because of Tommy. Oh, no, just see. I can't let anyone else have that notebook. I want a chance to live like anyone else, like you or a million other people. Yes, I... I see. So, now what do you do? I... I can't do a thing, Miss Conrad. It's your problem now. Mine. That's right. You can destroy that book and let Conrad go along his merry way. You can forget your father. He's dead. Whatever happens to Conrad now won't help him. That's true. But leave us out of it. If you let a man like Conrad go free when you could put him where he belongs, that wouldn't be any good with him. Oh, please, please stop it. And maybe something you've never thought about. What? Someday... Someday your Tommy might find out. Oh, no. You've got nothing to be ashamed of. It wasn't you. It was your father. Why don't you start with a clean page? If... If this Tommy's a right guy, you'll understand. Well, Miss Conrad... Hello, Tommy. Darling, I... I want you to come over right away. There's something... we've got to talk over. All right, dear. I'll give him... 10 to 1 on Tommy. Ruth. ...day of notorious racketeer after five years. Dead Man's Notebook... Forget that, Susie. Turn to the society page. Here. Now, read that. Mr. and Mrs. Tommy Gibson leave for Behemoth on honeymoon. Gee, the Behemoth. You must feel just like stupid, Mr. Holiday. The word is Cupid, Susie. And I'm dressed differently. Mr. Holiday. Good night, Susie. Next week, same time, through the courtesy of Paramount Pictures, Alan Ladd stars as Dan Holiday in Box 13. Box 13 is directed by Richard Sanville with an original story by Russell Hughes. Original music is composed and conducted by Rudy Schrager. The part of Susie is played by Sylvia Picker. Production is supervised by Vern Carstensen. This is a Mayfair production from Hollywood. Watch for Alan Ladd in his latest Paramount Picture.