 Personal notice. Danger's my stock and trade. If the job's too tough for you to handle, you got a job for me, George Valentine. Write full details. Greetings, Mr. Lover. Time for another Let George Do It adventure. From its title, you might think that this story was all about a neurotic bird, as it's called the scream of the eagle. But don't let that fool you. He wasn't neurotic. He was hungry. He hadn't had anybody to eat in days. My dear Mr. Valentine, I hate injustice, even when it happens to one of my own relatives. Matilda Jonathan, a distant cousin, a young girl, tragic case. If I weren't so busy with my own investment service, I'd help her myself. But then again, I might not. Because a man in my position can't afford to have people misconstrue his intentions. And I'll thank you not to misconstrue that, either. No, sir, I don't mean intentions romantic. Because this Matilda really isn't much of a one for waltzing. Being more of the outdoor type. Nor is she much of a one for looks. Just an ordinary girl with nothing special coming her way except five million dollars. Which she won't get unless she has some really high-powered help and fast. Because Mr. Valentine, have you ever heard of a black stone bloodhound named McNeil? Well, sir, that lawyer will spin Matilda out of her millions faster than you could say, San Quentin. So will you please jump in there fast and do something about this? Matilda, I happen to know, is going to see McNeil this morning at his office, ten o'clock. And be careful, you're up against a man who can squeeze the eagle and really make it scream. Yours very truly, Jameson Pietzel. The guy's really worried about poor little Matilda, isn't he? George, make the eagle scream. I don't know why. Well, they print on bills and coins, Angel, the almighty dollar, the fast buck. Only in this case, there seem to be five million of them. Well, anyway, George, here's your hat. And I wrote McNeil's address down for you on a piece of paper, the lawyer's... Hey, hey, hey, not so fast. I'd like to know a little more about the poor innocent heiress before I go tearing out after... Well, the letter came while you were down having coffee. I already phoned Mike Landry down at the Daily Record. He looked up the files. Matilda's father was a big mine owner, made his money in South America. And I think you want to take the case all right, George, because Matilda Jonathan died over a year and a half ago. You're listening to Let George Do It. Our adventure will continue in just a moment. Now back to Let George Do It and George Valentine. Mr. McNeil's very busy this morning, sir. Yes, so I see. I won't take much of his time. If you could just tell me what it's about, maybe I could... I'm not quite sure myself. The original idea was... Well, does the name Matilda Jonathan mean anything to you? Yes, sir. It means I won't be able to go to the baseball game this afternoon. I won't have time for lunch. Oh, it does. Well, suppose you tell me... If you'll just take the last chair in line, you'll have your time. Now, just a minute. Clear it up, will you? It means I'm going to stop reading lawn, get me a soft job as ringmaster and a fleecer, because it means I'm... Come on now. What's the trouble? Matilda Jonathan is dead, isn't she? Sir, you see all these men with the briefcases and all the girls? Yeah. Well, every one of them claims she's Matilda Jonathan. I'm a skeptic by nature. All right, Mr. McNeil, and I'm just as confused. I don't believe some of the people all the time, or any of the people any of the time. I know I know she's dead. She's not dead. Million, million. Who's got the million? You see any hair on my head? No, of course you don't. Have an aspirin. But you're the lawyer who took... I'm the sucker who took a will, clients. I don't see Matilda Jonathan's father two years ago. Mining man. Never lived in this country. No. Doctors ordered him up here. He came with his only daughter. Took a place in the country to die in, and he did. He died. Okay, okay, I follow you that far. But there's more to the story than that. Well, aside from handling their baggage when they came and finding an up-country real estate man for them, I'd never seen the Jonathan's daughter, at least. So I had to pitch into a will probate, flying little blind. Go on, go on. But it was all in order. Only one principal heir, the daughter, would have been just routine only then it has to happen. What happens? The daughter has to go morbidly tragic about her father's death. This is all before the will is settled, you understand? And then she has to go swimming. All by herself, apparently. Got drowned. Drowned? So that's how Matilda Jonathan died. But what brought her back to life? What multiplied her? The whisper of the eagle, my friend. Here's an old photo taken of her. Taken in South America. Well, it's all out of focus on the, oh, wait a minute. Hey, yeah, there is some kind of a big bird in this shot. A hawk or something flying over her. Ah, yes, yes, eagle's no joke. Falconry. Tilda liked Falconry. Ha! If she'd liked her own looks a little better and had her photo taken a little more often. Get back on the rails, would you? I'm in tune, don't worry. The father's will has never been settled, understand? And all those people are out there claiming to be Matilda Jonathan. For the very simple reason that she drowned, but her body was never discovered. Oh, it's beginning to dawn. It's come up like thunder around this office, my friend. But this kind of fraud wouldn't be easy. You must have some things to check against. Very few things, Valentine. Anyway, the phonies are just an echo. Follow-up of the real headache. A week ago, this item came out in the newspaper. You see it? No, no, I didn't. Amnesia victim, claiming for Jonathan Fortune. Amnesia. A fellow's been living in a small mountain town for the past year and a half claims to have recovered her memory. States that she is the one and only Matilda Jonathan, whom police have previously assumed to have drowned while swimming alone in the murky waters of Lake. Has been living under the name of Irma or something or other. So you think Irma's a phony too, huh? You got a letter from one Jameson P. Edsel, didn't you? Distant cousin of Jonathan? Good spy system. No, just two and two. Edsel's been hounding me for the past two weeks. This girl is the right one. Well, if he's a relative. Johnny, ten o'clock, isn't it? Nearly a quarter past, sir. Well, if that Irma girl is here, tell her to come in. Yes, sir. Let you take a look at her. Oh, and Johnny, that sailor, that one, whatever his name is. One Fernandez, sir. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Phonies Hotel. Ask him to come over. I'll take care of it. Look, Mr. McGill. I'm still with you. There's Jameson P. Edsel, who's so sure that Irma's really Matilda. He's also in this will for $1,000. But she won't get until it's settled, one way or the other. Do you think everybody's a fraud? I think Matilda drowned, like the police said. Yeah, it's tough lake to recover a body from. It's happened to other people up there. If the money doesn't go to this girl Irma, or if the real Matilda doesn't turn up like after a reasonable length of time, then the money all goes to a charity, a nice deserving charity. Well, you blame me if I'm a little skeptical about this? So tell me, who's this Juan Fernandez? The only one I could find. Sailor, Bolivian, used to be a servant of the Jonathan's. I had him flown up here. Oh, I get it. Probably the only person who'll ever be able to look at this girl Irma and tell us whether she's really... Excuse me, but that girl, she was here just a second ago, but she left. I can't find it. What? Took off, huh? You told her about this Fernandez coming to identify her this morning with Neil, huh? Yes. Well, I guess that does it, doesn't it? I don't know what it does, sir, but whatever it is, it won't be done. Ah, what do you mean? No, sir, I telephoned Fernandez's hotel, like he said. Only somebody named Lieutenant Riley was there. The Bolivian is dead. He wasn't murdered, he was hit by a truck. It happened last night sometime. Yeah, but Riley, after what we told you... I know, I know, he wasn't hit by a truck, he was murdered. How could I tell the difference? How could anybody... But if it was a street accident, surely the truck driver... What driver, Miss Brooks, it was hit and run. No witnesses to help? Of course not. Riley, you say there were a lot of old scars on Fernandez's arm. Yeah. Now, they don't have anything to do with it. Oh, but they do. They prove he knew the girl that he really did know her in the old days. Eagle scratches, that's what they are. What? Scratches from handling birds, Miss Brooks. Hawks, eagles. Yeah. McNeil talked about falconry. Yeah, we got a little on that ourselves. There was some stuff in some old magazines. This guy taught Matilda what she knew about handling the big ones without getting killed. Brooksy, did you locate Jameson P. Edsel? Yes, George, Mr. Edsel has an office downtown, but he said he'd meet us. Come on, let's go. Wait a minute, where are you going? I'm going to chase the other kind of bird lovers, Riley. The ones who make a hobby of the other kind of eagle. Only I don't think it'll be the eagle who does the screaming. In Heaven's name, what is this? All you've done since you picked me up is make insinuations. I don't know anything about any murder. No, no, no, next block, Mr. Valentine. Okay. Mr. Edsel, why were you so sure that this Irma is really Matilda? Well, I'm taking you to see her, aren't I? Ha, ha, there it is, Valentine. The Sterling Arms. Now, after all, I never told you that I was positive or that I could prove she was... Oh, backsliding now. The man who hates injustice doesn't want to get caught being... I beg your pardon, sir. I'm a man of some standing. I'm not used to being talked to like a... Like a... Oh yes, sure, be careful. She may not be here. Last time I heard of her, she was scared by something. So maybe she's running now. Or maybe she's all ready to claim five million dollars. But whichever way it is, you don't want to spoil anything. Not if you're working together. Matilda, Matilda dear. Oh, Matilda. Try calling her Irma. Matilda! Well, she... Stepped out for a moment, Mr. Valentine. Not here, huh? All right, Buster, let's have it. I never mind the Big Shot routine. Well, I don't know... This investment service you run, I should have spotted the pitch, the racetrack squint. Which horse do you like at Holly Park and the Third? Get your hands on her. How much is Irma paying you to swear she's your relative? Or is it you that's paying her to act the part? Is it both of you trying to defraud and state out a five million? I said to let go of my... What about a murder, do you, huh? When the guy who gets killed by accident happens to be the one person in the world who could foul up Irmas and your claims. Mr. Valentine, we should find her. Perhaps she is in danger, too. Oh, she's in no danger. The job's done. It's all over. With Fernandes out of the way, all little Irma has to do to cash. What are you doing? Matilda! I was just... Poor child. She's bleeding. Look at her arm. Yeah, what are all these bandages? It took a lot of skin off. He said I should get a doctor, but I thought I could come up here first. Slow down now, easy. It'll be all right. Knock me straight over. I threw up my hands to keep them falling on my face. What did? Cousin Edsel? Are you my cousin? I'm Irma. I'm Matilda. I had to leave an office this morning because I felt sick again. I don't know who I am. I don't care who I am. All I want is for cars to stop coming up behind me like that. So fast, and then leave. Ron George, the same thing that happened... Stop trying to kill me. You are listening to Let George Do It. Our adventure will continue in just a moment. Back to George Valentine. One man might have been able to tell whether an amnesia victim named Irma is really Matilda Jonathan, the heiress who is supposed to have drowned over a year and a half ago, but whose body was never found. Yes, Juan Fernandez might have been able to tell about Irma, but Juan Fernandez is dead. If your name is George Valentine, you realize how difficult it's going to be to tell about Irma, because just when you thought you'd found a simple explanation for her, along came Irma herself. And it seems that a similar attempt had been made on her life. Why? Well, that's Lieutenant Riley's question. She's not responsible for the South American's death, or why would it happen to her too? That's plain enough. Yes, Lieutenant. It doesn't answer whether she's Matilda or not, or whether I should recommend to a court that she be just handed five million dollars, nor does it explain why anybody should possibly want her out of the way. After all, if she doesn't swindle us out of the money, it goes to charities. No one else. You know, for a while, McNeil, I went out on a long limb and thought Edsel and the girl were working together. Don't apologize. We're all stupid together. Only why do you still use a word like swindle? What makes you so sure she's phony? Because I don't trust anybody, Mr. Valentine. I've got a sour stomach from trying to digest this greedy word. Look, Valentine, we're rechecking all the evidence. But is it really likely she could have just disappeared and got amnesia? And Fernandez just get accidentally killed right now? And she just get accidentally bumped by somebody? Oh, brother, I ask you. Me, I'd rather ask her. Or is it Matilda? How's her arm now, all right? It wasn't bad, George. Just the skin. They put on another bandage. They gave me a faint like that. But I was in the hospital just a couple of weeks ago, a virus pneumonia. High fever. That's what brought my memory back. When I was sick. You mean when you remember that you were really Matilda? Yes, that's right. How did you lose your memory, Matilda? I... I think I did go swimming that day. They found my clothes and all, so I must have. But I remember putting on some old jeans and things, on the highway. Just wanting to get as far away from there as I could. From the lake, from the house, my birds. Anything that reminded me of my father's death. And then you don't know what happened? Well, sort of. I mean, I had a fever then, too. And somebody took me to a doctor in a small town there in the mountains. I thought my name was Irma for some reason. When I got well, I used that name to work in the department store. I see, but didn't the doctor understand? Oh, yes, he went to the police. But I guess they just didn't check down there. And they thought I was dead anyway. Uh-huh. Well, five million dollars is a lot of money. If it's mine, I should claim it, shouldn't I? But it's not important enough for things to happen, like happened to Juan. You remember Juan Fernandez from South America? He was the one who taught me not to be afraid of the birds. What kind of birds did you have up at the lake? Hawks? Hawkins? Well, they were just local varieties. But I did have one that I brought from South America. I remember I called him Bobo. He took me years to train. He was a type of eagle. Uh, how big is Bobo? About eight feet, I think. I mean, his wings, tip to tip. Plus the usual beak and claws, I suppose. Someone who'd never really worked with a bird like that before, someone Bobo didn't recognize, might even get killed. Down this way, still the same old cages. Yes, I remember. Everything is so overgrown, though. Have you been taking care of the birds, Mr. Jenkins? Well, I've been up here every week to feed them. The size of their cages, though, part out, and they open this way. They don't need much tending. I see what you mean, more like tennis courts. Oh! Can't reach you, won't hurt you. Some of them get sort of friendly, not like that Bobo. He still charges me like an express train. He turns up his nose and gets mad and won't let me near a cage. Yeah, these look plenty tough, all right. You don't mean that Bobo... That's him. Yes, that's Bobo, Mr. Valentine. Yeah, about three times as big as the others. You haven't been saying much, Matilda. Why don't you tell me about it? This is all rather an experience coming back here for the first time. George, look at his eyes. You just sit there staring at nothing. They look like agates, huge agates. Yeah. Say, Jenkins, let me have the key to the padlock there. You run back and see if Lieutenant Riley's car is here yet, will you? Sure, Mr. Valentine. Thanks. George, you're not going to open the gate. No, no, why does well wait? Whatever you want, Matilda. Whatever you think, I... Hey, your arm, the one that's hurt. Isn't it the one he perches on? It's all right. It doesn't bother me, and the bandage is a thick. Well, that is the routine, isn't it? Yes, usually you wear a long glove, but I don't have any... Gunny sacking over there if you'd like to wrap it over the bandage. All right. Maybe that's a good idea. Yeah, those claws look like razors from here. How about it, Bobo? You like strangers? What do you do when a stranger leans against the gate of your cage? All right, all right, never mind. Mr. Valentine, what was that? Well, hello, Mr. Redsell. We're all here now, huh? Yes, I ran ahead. I wanted to see you for a moment. That's quite a bird, isn't it? What do you want from her? Well, I thought you should understand my position. That's all. When a man acts in good faith for the sake of someone he's never met in the past, but he thinks needs help now, Matilda isn't nervous as she is. Quite a strain, you know, for her. Go on, go on, what's the matter? Isn't that dangerous? The lock there. You left it loose on the... Look out, she'll drop it. The gate! The gate! Hey, get that bird! Shut up, Buster, the bird's loose. I saw that was the idea, so... Take it easy, Riley, take it easy. He didn't want the girl to get hurt, it's done now. Well, else here it is. There goes the second identifying witness. You never saw a jet plane climb like that. Yeah, Mr. McNeil, Bobo's in good condition, almost out of sight. First, the South American, now a bird. Come over here, young lady. I think it's about time... Here it comes! He won't hurt you. He just came down to my wrist. You see? Nice, Bobo. Well, how does that strike a skeptic, Mr. McNeil? Probably not one person out of a million could do that. All right, get him back in the cage, will you? Thanks. Show that to a judge. And you'll get your money all right, Matilda. I knew I was right about you, my dear. I was just telling them... I'm afraid even the skeptic has to bow his head. Oh, yeah, it was a nice demonstration, all right. After that, nobody would argue. Except me. What said Valentine? Well, let's look at a few things, Emma. Like your arm there, the arm you got skinned up saving yourself from being knocked flat on your face by a car. I don't understand that. When you're knocked forward like you said you were by a head-run, how can you expect to protect your face with only one hand? Why isn't the other arm hurt? Oh, for heaven's sakes, that doesn't... I think now I know why that arm got skinned and how. You did it yourself, didn't you, Emma? And then got some bandages over it so we wouldn't look. Oh, Valentine, for the love of mine! Well, I know it's confusing, that's what they counted on. But you see, I just didn't trust anybody. Not even an eagle. If you think that bird isn't dangerous, you're crazy. A nice, well-fed, healthy eagle that chases away the man who brings the food every week. Well, doesn't that give you the idea that somebody else might have been feeding that eagle, exercising it? And most important, training it. But Matilda trained it. Years ago. And Emma's been training it for the last year and a half. Maybe coming down on weekends. I certainly have not. Then will you show us that arm of yours, Emma? For five million people who do most anything, even smart people like lawyers. Of all the crazy ideas, Valentine. What are you trying to prove? McNeil, you told us you took care of the Jonathan's baggage when they first arrived. And probably the worst job you ever had. Because they brought Bobo from South America. What a time you must have had getting him through customs and all. Now, why didn't you mention the bird earlier? Yeah. Wanted us to prove it for him. Now you're catching the ball, Riley. But he hinted a little with this double talk about the other kind of eagle. That's right. You haven't a shred of evidence. A rich man dies. No friends in this country. No close relatives. Leaves a lonely daughter that nobody's paid much attention to. Suddenly she goes swimming and she drowns. Police can't find the body. But a little while later, a girl named Irma shows up in a mountain town nearby. And she does a great job of acting out amnesia. I won't listen to any more of this. Sister, your tough job was getting over here to train the eagle. You had to have help. Well, Riley, suppose that's why Juan Fernandez was brought up here. McNeil would have known about him from the Jonathan's. Poor Fernandez thought he was just training a new devotee of the sport. Getting somebody else ready to handle Bobo. And then he found out what they were really up to. Yeah, the minute Irma claimed to be Matilda, they had to get him out of the way. Come on, sister, in the arm, let's see it. Get away from me. You had to scratch that arm yourself. I remember the old scars Fernandez had on his arm. The real Matilda would have old scars from handing those birds all her life. Let go. You're hurting me. Any cuts you've had are more recent. From the last year and a half. And a doctor can tell how old a scar is. Mr. Valentine, I'm a lawyer. I look at logic. I live by it. Don't you see how ridiculous it is to assume I go ahead with such a plan when at any time the real Matilda's body might be recovered from that lake? I'd never get myself that far out on a limb. Mr. McNeil, you've got a good argument there. So good it's going to hang you. The only way all this really makes sense makes a neat, safe plan out of hiring Irma for a job is that there is no body in that lake. It's probably around here someplace buried. And the police will never stop till they find it. Now that we know you murdered the real Matilda, Jonathan, a year and a half ago. Yes. Yes, he killed her. I had nothing to do with it. Look out, Valentine! Back to the conclusion of our Let George Do It adventure in just a moment. Money, money, money, money, Mr. Edsel, the scream of the ego. Once McNeil sold everybody with that demonstration by Bobo, he would have just waltzed the phony Matilda through court. Together they would have lived happily ever after. I think you did a wonderful job, Mr. Valentine. I don't quite understand the way you've been acting, Mr. Edsel. Well, Mr. Brooks, I was just taken in. I certainly didn't want to see any relative of mine. You couldn't collect your thousand dollars until the will was settled. You would have said Brooksy here was Matilda. Oh, Mr. Valentine, I assure you a paltry little one thousand dollars to a man in my position. Well, you did hire us, you know, and sooner or later you will be getting that thousand dollars from the estate. So, George, since Mr. Edsel doesn't care about money, maybe we should give him a bill for our services right now? No, no, no, no, wait a minute, wait a minute. For one thousand dollars. No, no. The ego flies again, darling. Angel, that's the scream of a stuck pig. You have just heard the scream of the ego, another let George do an adventure. Robert Bailey was starred as George Valentine with Virginia Gregor's Brooksy. David Victor and Jackson Gillis wrote the story with music by Eddie Dunstetter. Now, this is yours truly inviting you to another visit with Valentine when you will again hear what happens when you let George do it.