 Personal notice, danger is my stock and trade. If the job's too tough for you to handle, you've got a job for me. George Valentine, right in full detail. Yes, it's Let George Do It, brought to you by PREEM, P-R-E-A-M. The new miracle way to cream your coffee. In a moment we'll begin tonight's transcribed adventure of George Valentine. But first... Oh, the new way to cream it is to hurry but get PREEM. That's PREEM with a capital P. If you appreciate real convenience, you'll be delighted with PREEM, P-R-E-A-M. The wonderful new way to cream coffee. This new dairy miracle in instant powdered form never sours, never turns. Keeps indefinitely while sealed. Open for everyday use. PREEM stays fresh tasting to the last spoonful. Whether you keep it on your kitchen shelf or in your refrigerator. That's just one reason you'll prefer PREEM to all other coffee creaming products. PREEM has a rich, luscious flavor you'll love too. That's because it's made from fresh, sweet cream milk products only. Yet PREEM is less fattening. Use PREEM in your coffee instead of coffee cream and you get up to 50% fewer calories. Best yet, thrifty PREEM saves over one third on coffee cream costs. Try PREEM tomorrow. P-R-E-A-M. Hurry, get PREEM with a capital P. And now, tonight's adventure of George Valentine. The man under the elm trees. Dear Mr. Valentine, you may not remember, but you and I had a very interesting talk once in the smoking car of the streamliner. At least as far as Mayville Junction we did. Anyway, that's why I feel I can call on you now as a friend. I live with my little sister, Mrs. Leticia Packler. She's got too much money. More than's good for any woman. She can't control it and I can't control her. Unless you help out, there's going to be a loud crash at the end of the line. Now, I warned her that you might be coming. Coming to visit is an old friend, of course. Hold on, Bruxy. What's that guy's name? Del Hanigan, remember him? People you meet on trains. Well, anyway, so Leticia or no one else will suspect the real reason you're here. You see, the big trouble is my sister likes to make friends too, only the wrong kind of friends. The kind that ought to be in prison. Sincerely, Del Hanigan. The name still means nothing. And as for Mayville Junction, I'm darned if I... Oh, George, how could you? Well, I know I didn't actually go there, but I started two once and I've always loved the place, even if it is a tiny little. So that's it. The backward seat of learning, huh? You're would-be alma mater. Just because their football teams weren't as good as... All right, Angel. All right. Let's go boula-boula, even if it is at Mayville College. Oh, you must be Mr. Valentine and Ms. Brooks. That's right. Why are you so much earlier than I expected? Look at me. I'm all over with cake-flower. There's going to be a picnic, you know. The faculty welcoming committee. Oh, but I'm so glad to meet you. I'm Tisha Patler. You're... How do you do? Hi. And this is Skinny Adams. Skinny lives with us, you know. And, man, I didn't see you salute the flag. Uh, well, I'm not in uniform. I'm the keeper of the flags. What? The flags at the college. Used to be on the grounds and flowers committee, but I'm not any more doctors, as I couldn't. But what I'm really interested in is in chemistry. Now, you look like a serious-minded young man. Do you realize that I actually saw a bloloslav of nitrogen fame? And he says to me, Adams, he says to me... Oh, Skinny, please. Now they don't want to hear your stories now. Besides, if you're going to feel strong enough for the picnic, you'd better lie down, hadn't you? I'm sure Del's put up the beach umbrella over your hammock. All right, all right, Tisha. I know what's good for me. See you later, Mr. Adams. Oh, he's exasperating at times, but he's such a dear. It's just that he talks and talks day and night. He talks and talks, and none of it makes much sense. Who is he, Mrs. Packler? Skinny? Well, 10 or 12 years ago, he was an assistant or something in the chemistry department. Ambitious, but not very successful. And there was an explosion. It, well, affected him. The doctors say that he's borrowed more than his time by now. He can't stand any strain or undo shock or too much heat. Well, why isn't he in a hospital? What? What good heavens! The college gives him his pension, and he has his choice. After all, they say I take better care of him in the boarding house than they could. Well, if you'll just come inside, I'll fix you a lemonade while I'm finished baking my cookies. Where's Dale, Mrs. Packler? Down at the ice plant getting some salt for the ice cream freezer. He and the other rumor. The other rumor? Mr. Stevenson travels in jewelry, you know. But I bordered him a week. Mrs. Packler, your brother didn't tell us about your husband either. Oh, excuse me. Tom passed away, you know. It's been six months. I still get a little shock. Oh, I'm sorry. No, no, it's just silly of me. It's just, well, on a holiday, people can't help wishing for the things that are past, can they? Well, no, I guess not. But, uh, a holiday today? And you mentioned a picnic. It's the welcoming, that's all, for the faculty. Oh. None of us are really connected with the college, you see. But next week, a new term starts, and that's how all of us in town make our living off the college folks. Oh, we have a parade and turn out the town band and have potato races. Oh, I see. Oh, I guess we just try to pretend that we're part of it. Pretend that there's some excitement in our lives. That it isn't true that nothing ever really happens in Mayville. Suspender weather, I call it. Good and hot. There's no doubt about that. Now, down to the facts. Who's going to win the Coast Conference? S.C. or is Stanford going to up its price? Uh, let's hold the sports page, Mr. Hannigan. You wrote us a letter, remember? Said your little sister had more money than's good for a woman. My friend, she's got 40,000 smackaroos. How do you like that? Where'd you get it? Life insurance. That crazy, no-good husband of hers. He's dumb, that's all he was. He got himself killed dragging his own shotgun backwards to a fancy. He's dumb, you see what I mean? I see you didn't think much of him. Well, he paid the premiums. Yeah, but he was a waster. That's all he was. Never turned a lick of work. Let me teach you. Slave herself up to the elbows. She still does it. Boredom students, can't pay their bills. Nursing all the characters, like that scientific earbender back there in the hammock where they met her. Yeah, like my sister ought to get out more. She ought to travel like I do. See the world. Yeah, but she makes the wrong kind of friends, you said. Kind that ought to be in prison. The kind that lead to crisis at the end of the line. Now, who is it you're so worried about? The other rumor? My friend, you guessed it. Stevenson. Rick Stevenson calls himself. Been here one week and he's buttering her up already. Buttering her up? Oh, sure. He knows his stuff, all right. First he goes to work getting next to that guy, Adams. But he's really aiming a t-shirt. Don't you kid yourself. Okay, so the border's making passes at your sister. So what? My friend, that man is phony. A far flusher, I tell you. Listen, chest hardware, he says he's in. What? Jewelry, selling fertility pins. If he knows the difference between the DU shield and the brass door knocker, I'll eat my hat. I've been around, I can tell. Honorary chairman to the decouse once. Mr. Hannigan, suppose he is giving out a phony line. Your sister's old enough to watch out for herself, isn't she? What do you expect us to do about it? Well, for God's sake, snoop around. Nail something on the nosy fortune hunter so we can run him out of town. He's out to teach his money, I tell you. Well, what of it? So are you, aren't you? Huh? Isn't that the real idea? Now, how do you think she could spend it? Close up the boarding house and the two of you go traveling. First class, maybe, with her paying the bills. Well, at least I'm a brother. At least I'm thinking of it. What's the matter, my friend? You saw her because I got you down here at something that don't look so important? No, no, I kind of like Mayville. Only when it comes to listening to stories, I'd just as soon hear them from little skinny atoms. Hey, listen to me, will you? No, I actually saw a tinsky, the biochemist and British love of nitrogen. And I saw a diaper jelly. I joined you sound asleep. Yeah, and still trying to bend people's ears. She told me that, you know, Angel were in the midst of a bunch of nuts. Look at his face, it's so red. Man of his age, and in his condition, coming out here in the sun. George, of course, the umbrellas come down. Yeah, you better wake them. Mr. Adams. Mr. Adams. Hey. Hey. It's all right. She here. You two haven't been standing here, have you? What do you mean? Hey, I haven't been saying things, have I? No, no, no, of course not. We just came out. No, don't you lie to me. I can always tell when a student's lying. I'll have you know I've got every one of my senses. I was hurt in an explosion, I think, but I can see and the things I see and I can hear better than you think. You were just mumbling, Mr. Adams. Did I say anything about the elm trees? The elm trees? Come on, come on. Something I've seen. A man under the elm trees? No. That's good. Now, who did that? Hmm? That umbrella. That umbrella was up when I went to sleep and know it was. Oh, take it easy, Skinny. The catch probably just slipped down. Don't get your dander up. Yeah, maybe. Hello, you two. I'm Rick Stevens. So I gather. My name's Rick. I know. I know. I've heard all about you, Miss Brutes. You're here for the holiday. Yes, that's right. We like a quiet college town. Relief from the city, isn't it? Okay, come on, Skinny. Hey. It's 12 o'clock. You sure, Rick? Is that lady ready? Yes. She's going to wait for the town parade out on the side porch. Maybe you folks would like to join us. Thanks, Mr. Stevenson. We'll be with you in just a minute. All right. Whatever you say. A darn hot day. George. Yeah, Bruxy. About an hour and this son might kill a man like Adams. Might need it. Well, it certainly would make him very sick. Yeah. Put up that beach umbrella, will you? What? Go on. Put it up again. All right. There. Darling. Yeah. The kind of catch that can't slide down. Somebody pushed it down. You're all outside now, George. Good. Thanks, Bruxy. But what if Mr. Stevenson guesses that we've been in his room? I'll worry about that later. Try the closet there. Where there's smoke, there's fire, Angel. And we've got to work fast on the few sparks we know about. I agree. Somebody's trying to turn welcome faculty into Memorial Day. Yeah. But it seems so impossible. That poor, harmless man. I don't see why anybody would want it. Yeah? A letter. It was in the pocket of Rick's sport jacket. Suspender weather has one benefit. Federal State's Life Insurance Company. Just a note on their stationery. Stevenson. On July 14th, the company paid $40,000 to Mrs. Packler. Husband died in a hunting accident. Suggest you look into it. Rick Stevenson must be an insurance investigator. Let me see that. They're clipping in the same envelope. Old one. Mayville Herald, March 21st. Our town was grieved to hear of the unfortunate death of Mr. Tom Packler. His shotgun was accidentally discharged as he was crossing a fence near his own back property line just half a mile from his own house. Tom died in the meadow he loved so well under the familiar canopy of the... Bruxy. Under the elm trees. Do you love good coffee? Then you'll love the wonderful new way to cream it. Cream. P-R-E-A-M. 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And now, back to George Valentine. You meet a frail, harmless old man whose only offense is boring people, or is it? He's apparently so dangerous to someone that an attempt has been made on his life. In the other rumor in Mrs. Packler's boarding house, Rick Stevenson, at first he seemed to be only interested in Mrs. Packler's money, but now Rick seems to be an insurance investigator interested in her husband's death. Well, if you're anything like George Valentine, you know there's a lot more going on in the little college town of Mayville than talk about ice cream and football. Won't you have some more, Miss Brooks? Oh, thanks, Mrs. Packler, really. You know, last year I had six dishes of ice cream and still went out to the picnic. I kicked the football father and the coach did. And won the Sacrace, too. Remember, Tee-Tee? Sacrace. Tom Packler carried you all the way. I remember. He did not. He did too. No, he didn't. Just because he listened to you ramble on and trying to make yourself important, make people listen to nothing. All the famous scientists just saw that nobody ever heard of it. What? Hey, brother slob, chinchkin, de frajele. You know what, brother slob? Tee-Tee's husband was the only man in town too lazy to stop his wreck of the Hesperus. Dale, please, you've been drinking. Well, gosh, what's the celebration for if you don't have... Under the andries. What's that? What's that, skinny? Heh, heh, heh. Come on, Professor. I think you and I better take a little stroll outside before it rains. Yes, thank you, Mr. Stevenson. What on earth is the matter with everybody? Miss Brooks, there's still an hour until the faculty picnic if you'd like. Miss Packler, I think we'd like to take a little walk ourselves if you don't mind. Of course. I have a couple of things I wanted to pick up now, the five and ten. See you later. Too much thunder in the air for me. Me, too. Young man, if you're going to fall in beside us, you better salute the flag. Uh-oh. Yes, sir. I'm still keeper of the flags. The wreck of the Hesperus is still good for some jobs. Of course you are, Mr. Adams. Why, sure. You know, the first thing I noticed about the old house here was that flag hanging up there in the balcony of your room. Yeah, it used to be on the grounds and flowers committee for a while, and before that, well, maybe I was only an assistant in the chemistry department before her. Uh, wait a minute. You know what I noticed about your flag? Hey, hey. Well, look at it. The blue field there, Mr. Adams. It's in the wrong direction. Your flag up there is backwards. What? See? Oh, yes. Oh, sure, gee. No, no, excuse me. No, I'll run up and fix it. No, no, I'll do it. It's my job. I'll do it. I'll do it. Poor guy. But at least we're alone again. Come on, Angel. Where to? A telephone. One that's in a booth instead of in a public hallway. I'm going to talk to the police. Yeah. Lieutenant Johnson in the city can run a fast check for me. The insurance company's angled. Everything about it. Come on, we'll cut across and back at the house. Well, if Rick Stevenson is the insurance company's investigator, they certainly must suspect that it wasn't just a shotgun accident. Yeah, right. Or he wouldn't be here. Besides, the clipping said Packler died under those elm trees. And Skinny's got a secret about what he saw under the elm trees. Murder, maybe. Yeah. You can just see the trees from his hammock at the edge of the meadow. So George, somebody's taking down that umbrella must have been an attempt to get rid of him before he tells what he knows about Rick Stevenson. It shouldn't be hard to get rid of him. Not any harder than getting rid of a helpless little child. George, this would be the Packler's woodshed, wouldn't it? Yeah. Sure, I guess so. But this piece of wood, it's the same color and the same shape as those things on the front of the house, the balcony railing. The posts that hold the railing up. And to reach the flag, you'd have to lean against the railing. Yeah, come on, Angel. Look, you can see it from here. I didn't notice before. The corner post is missing. I'm sorry, Skinny, did I hurt you? Are you all right? Hello, young man. I had to stop you. If you'd leaned against that railing, the corner supports off. It's loose, see? See there? Hello, young man. Listen, someone was trying to make you fall. Have an accident. Kill you. You know something. You've got to tell me. You saw something out under the elm trees. Now what did you see there? It might rain, young man. It might rain. Come on, Mr. Adams. You're going to stay with Miss Brooks while I attend to some very necessary business. How is he, Brooks? Shhh. Skinny's asleep. Did you get Lieutenant Johnson? Yeah. He has a man checking the local police and the insurance company. A man will get in touch with me here. What about Rick Stevenson? I don't know. I didn't see him. George, this time, we ought to be able to tell who did it. I mean, putting the flag backwards and fixing that railing. Whoever is trying to get this guy is taking advantage of circumstances. Same as with the umbrella. So if we ask around, all we get is conflicting stories and denials from the guilty one. Oh, listen. Hello? Yes? Who's that? Who? Tisha. Tisha, what is that? Well, I don't know. It's long distance. I don't know who they want to talk to. It's the police, I think, but it must be the wrong number. George, you'd better wait a minute. No, no, wait a minute. No, no, no. Tisha, give me that. What? No, give that to me, Tisha, that calls for me. It's nothing important, really. It's just that I want to talk. Hello, yes? Yes, this is he speaking. Yes. Oh, you did? Yeah, I get it. Yes, thanks very much. Yeah, I guess that winds it up, doesn't it? Well, Tisha, that... Tisha, where'd you go? Tisha! So Stevenson's in touch with the police, too. Angel, I think maybe now we can stop being suckers. That call was for me. That's right, operator. I was disconnected. Hurry it up, will you get my party back? Police in the city, hurry it up. What was that? You'll be all right, skinny. Just thunder. Wonder where Del Hanigan is all this time. That wasn't thunder. Round this way, Ruxi. Yeah. Replace Packner, kept his guns. The shop must have been here. The woodshed. Hold it. Rick Stevenson. Yeah. And he's dead. Here comes the rain. George, whoever killed him must have left here just a second ago. Maybe he was back of the shed when we... Screen door. And he's back in the house now. Come on, Angel, from here it's easy. There's only one person that can be. Mrs. Packler? Getting dry? I was out for just a moment. The clothes on the line. There aren't any clothes on the line. Please get out of my kitchen. I have to take the cookies out. Wrap them for the picnic. Please, they'll get cold if I don't. It got me. I'm sorry, Mrs. Packler. But let's call me a detective. You'd better sit down. Now then, why did you do it? He found out. Mr. Stevenson found out. He was coming to get me. After he talked on the phone, and he came looking in the woodshed, the place where your dead husband's guns were. Or the shotgun was that killed your husband. Stop it! What's the matter? Were you afraid Mr. Stevenson would find that shotgun, examine it for evidence or something? I don't know. He was coming to get me. I had to kill him. Why? I was putting his fresh linen away yesterday when I found an envelope. Insurance company. A note about me. A clipping about Tom's death. I know. I guessed before that he was up to something. So many questions about me. And he wasn't a jewelry man like he said he was. He spent so much time getting close to poor little skinny Adams, asking him questions. Poor little skinny Adams. It's a strange way for you to talk. Oh, may the Lord forgive me. But skinny hadn't much longer to live anyway. I couldn't have killed him but an accident. Sure, sure. Like the umbrella or the flag because you were afraid he knew something, weren't you? He did. Under the elm trees. He kept saying it. And I knew sooner or later he'd tell Mr. Stevenson. He'd tell him we'd seen me shooting my husband. My husband was no good. An egg aloof. Mrs. Packler, I don't know what it is skinny saw way out under the elms. But it couldn't have been very much. What's that? He brags about returning his senses. Well, if ever there's a man in this town who'd learned how to hang the flag, he's the one. But when it was backwards, I had to tell him so. That's right. He couldn't see. Don't you understand? He'd been out there dozens of times, admiring it. But he couldn't clearly see that far even. You mean... Mrs. Packler, there was never any real evidence against you concerning your husband. You did commit a perfect crime. Perfect, except for a guilty conscience. Perfect crime? But Mr. Stevenson... I know, I know. The note that said Stevenson, Mrs. Packler's got some money. Husband dead suggests you look into it. Well, Rick Stevenson just had a friend, an accomplice at the insurance company. That's all. A friend who tipped him off. You're lying! You're lying! No, no, you didn't need to shoot Rick. Nobody's ever guessed you killed your husband. No, no. That's right. Rick Stevenson came after you just now to tell you goodbye. He was going to duck out because he'd intercepted my phone call. My phone call that said the nosy Mr. Stevenson was exactly what your brother guessed he was. A confidence man out after a widow's money. You know, there's something about crisp, tangy fall weather that makes coffee time more enjoyable than ever. And there's no time like now for discovering cream. P-R-E-A-M. The delicious new way to cream coffee. In instant powdered form, cream is made from fresh, sweet cream and milk products only. Naturally, it has a rich, delicious flavor. What's more, cream is so convenient, so economical, you'll prefer it to all other coffee-creaming products. You see, cream never sours, never turns. Sealed, cream keeps indefinitely. Opened for regular use, cream stays fresh tasting to the last spoonful, whether you store it on your kitchen shelf or in your refrigerator. And thrifty, say, cream saves over one-third the cost of coffee cream. And then something every calorie counter should know. Cream is less fattening. Use cream in your coffee, and every cup contains only about half as many calories as if you used coffee cream. Try cream, P-R-E-A-M. The new way to cream it is to cream it. Come on, Angel, cheer up. The sun's out and we're the townspeople walking in faculty. Remember? Oh, George, I don't feel much like it. I know. But life is full of aches. At least we save skinny atoms, don't we? You know, there's still something I don't understand. I mean, skinny did see something. Coming here, he was so excited. The elm trees, he kept saying. Yeah, Angel, maybe I've got that figured out, too. All poor skinny wants is attention. All day he's been acting as though he had a secret, as though he cooked up a surprise. Surprise? Surprise? Oh, no, Mr. Valentine. I just finally learned something, that's all. Yeah, skinny? People don't like to listen to people tell people what people want to listen to. Is that so? Even if you have to make it up. Oh, no. Oh, yes, indeed. Now, in other words, at the time, this man I saw once out under some elm trees. Oh, there, listen to me now, all right. It's football season. So, I'm going to tell you. Listen, everybody. Did I tell you about the time that I saw Newt Rockney under the elm jing south bend? Yes, sir. Newt Rockney. Tonight's adventure of George Valentine has been brought to you transcribed by Prem, the new dairy miracle in instant powdered form. Try it. You'll prefer it to all other products for creaming your coffee. For Prem is the most delicious, convenient, thrifty way to cream your coffee ever discovered. Let George do it stars Olin Suley as George with Virginia Gregg as Bruxy. Let George do it is written by David Victor and Jackson Gillis and directed by J. C. Lewis. Also heard in tonight's cast were Alan Reed as Dell, Florence Ravenall as Tisha, Pat McGee as Adams, and Lawrence Dodd-Kinn as Rick. The music was composed and presented by George Wright, your announcer, George Crowell. Join us again next Monday night, at the same same station when amazing new Prem, P-R-E-A-M invites you to let George do it.