 Personal notice, Stange is 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. Standard of California on behalf of independent Chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the west invites you to let George do it. No riders, another adventure of George Valentine. Mr. Valentine, there's a boy need your help terribly. His name's Floyd Bronson and he's in terrible trouble. He hasn't got any friends and they won't let me see him. He'll still be here, I think, until the fire's over. It's a terrible fire. Please, please drive fast and get here. It's on Highway 41 just a few miles east of Passarobles. You can find me because I'm a waitress at the Stop and Sip Cafe. Respectfully, Juan de Murphy. Face, where's the car? I'm fixing it as fast as I can. Oh, Mr. Valentine. Hey, hey, hey, what's this? I'm so tired. Everybody's tired. Well, Juan de Cantes is down. Oh, I've been on a loan since six last night. That's when he was here eating supper. Tommy Tucker, I mean, one that died. The what? He's a truck driver for a San Francisco fur company. Hey, mud face, what's this about Tommy? Ask one of the men down the counter, Mr. Evans. They know more than I do. Salesman, that's all. That's all because Mabel's not here. She's good looking. Yeah, we'll skip it. Now look, Juan de, I know you're groggy, but in words of one syllable, what's it all about? Yes, and you said something about a fire. We saw carloads of men on the highway. Well, that's what I've been doing, feeding all those men. You see, Mr. Valentine, last night a truck went over the grade 11 or 12 miles east of here towards Bakersfield. Went out of control and the driver was killed. That's Tommy Tucker. And the fire was from the wreck, is that it? Truck caught the grass on fire? Brush and scrubbed him to be yes. But they were afraid it would spread. They're only just now getting it out. Okay, I follow you that far only. Hey, boy, what do you think of that old timid Tommy, huh, mud face? Say, how long's he been on this run anyway? Oh, George, give me a nickel. Yeah, yeah. Did you hear me, Juan de? I said, how long's he been on this run anyway? I'm excited, so that's much better. All right, Juan de, there was a wreck and a fire. But you wanted us here for something else, didn't you? Something like a boy in terrible trouble? Floyd Bronson. Okay, let's hear it. Well, I don't know what it is exactly, but I just met Floyd yesterday, Mr. Valentine. Yeah, go on. Well, he was just going through, but I had the afternoon off and I was sitting here playing records when he stopped by. He sort of talked and I talked and I guess we talked nearly all afternoon. Salesman and truck drivers don't pay much attention to me except a kid about the food. He was, well, he was different. He liked you and you liked him. Oh, yes. Yes, very mutual. I mean, well, he said he'd write to me. He hasn't got a family like I don't either. But he's expecting a very good job down in Bakersfield and, well, anyway. Floyd isn't working now, huh? No, but he's really expecting... I meant yesterday he was going through Hitchhiking, right? Yes. He left here late in the afternoon with a farmer who said he'd taken the first few miles. Hitchhiking on 41, going east, right? Yes, sir. The same way as the truck that was wrecked later on. What happened, was it? Oh, I don't know. But the first we saw of anything was a highway patrol car coming back here and inside was Floyd. And they locked him up in that autocourt across the highway by the woods. But if Floyd's under arrest, what's it for? Well, he hasn't got any friends or anybody to help. I told you, I don't know, but... All right, all right, Wanda. I'll find out for myself. But in the meantime, do something, will you? All right, sir. What is it, sir? Well, I was going to say, pour yourself a cup of your own coffee, but hey, look, after this, call me George, huh? So Wanda asked you to help me, huh? Yeah. Yeah, the kid's upset. Worried silly about you. Well, you know how it is. No, I don't. Well, she's a nice enough kid, I guess, but, you know, my guy travels around like I do. Oh, I see. Traveler, huh? Okay, what happened on the highway? Well, nothing. I mean, all I got a hitch from a farmer, five or six miles, and then, boy, nothing had picked me up. Not many cars on 41 at night, anyway. Guess I walked for hours until, well, there it was. The wreck? Uh, running like a house fire in a brush, too. I was just wondering where I could get help when... Yeah, when a cop's car came along and you ran. Oh, but just a guy out of the way. They were coming fast, and, well... Well, really, Mr. Valentine, that's what happened. That's what happened. Well, Wanda was sure right about one thing, Gloria. If every guy needs help, you're it. And, uh, you're the man who owned the truck, huh, Mr. Jackson? Yeah, yeah, lots of them. Look at this here. Silver Foxes, he was going to deliver to a stern baker's field. Couldn't tell them from parchment now. Stuff's insured, isn't it? Oh, yeah, but it's a headache. Know what happens to wholesale furriers like me? They get bald. Sure not much left at the back of that truck. Well, there's crate of Persian land. Shish kebab. And the box of chinchilla looks like burnt cigar butt. Okay, okay, so you've had bad luck with it. Oh, Valentine, I'm not complaining just for fun. It's because I've been up all night driving the getter to see what could be saved. Well, the driver, Mr. Valentine, Tommy Tucker. Nicest boy I ever had working for him. I liked him. He understand that. So, is anything funny about this if it's not just a case of Tommy's clutch or breaks given out on the grade? Well, how about that kid they picked up? You know as much as I do, or the police so far. Mr. Justin, has anyone ever tried to rob one of your truck? I mean, on such an out-of-the-way road it could. No, no, this is not a movie, Miss Brooks. Car goes all boxed and locked and bolted to the floor. Besides, it's all still here. What's left of it? Still was curious about that kid, that's all. So am I. He was running away from the wreck. Maybe he was in the wreck. He doesn't want to admit it. You mean, maybe Tommy had picked him up? Sure, why not? Little company, late at night. No, no, no, that doesn't make sense. Why not? Don't you see the sign? No riders. That's the one rule we're really tough about and Tommy wasn't a boy to break rules. Yeah, I heard a salesman call him Tim at Tommy. Well, can't she interest that song? Reliable. I told you, the best man I ever had, best driver, too. That's what bothers me. Say, what do they find up here in the cab of the truck? Ashes, mostly, see. Flashlight was here in the city. Huh? Flux out of gear, huh? Yeah. I got a McCombie coming to take a look. Little iron ring. What's that with you? Two little iron rings about an inch in diameter. On the shelf up here, back of the seat, see. Yeah, I saw those, miss. Of course, I'm alive. I mean, I can't... Iron's pretty well under control now, but I sent Tucker's body off to Paso Robles. Oh, thanks, McGee. Two thanks bother me, Valentine. Yeah. Number one, we couldn't find any jack at any place for the driver, Tucker, not even a zipper. But in the fire, it might have burned. And anyway, maybe he didn't pack one. The cab of a truck is heated, isn't it? Well, I know, it doesn't mean much. But finding a wallet does. A wallet? That's right. A firefighter just phoned from several miles down the road. Says, come take a look at something he picked up there. Tucker's wallet. I said you're a liar, Floyd. No, I'm not. I told you. It'll only take, Mr. McGee, a few minutes to get back here, Floyd. So if you expect us to help you, you better... But this is just an ordinary leather jacket, isn't it? You can buy them like this by the Minions at Army Navy Store. You can steal them off bodies, too. No, I didn't. I told you I didn't. I said steal them off bodies. No, no, it wasn't even on them. It wasn't... Oh, is that so? Well, well, anyway, I didn't steal it. The client there on the ground phoned from the cab like he was. I was cold, and I knew it would have a long way to go for help, and so I took it. This was when you just happened by the scene of an accident? Well, sure. Now, when you look to see if the driver was dead, you look in his pocket for his wallet. It was in the jacket, Mr. Valentine. Honest it was. I didn't realize it until after the cops had picked me up. And I knew I'd be in worse trouble, so when they weren't looking, I'd throw it out the window of their car. That would explain how it was found down on the road, but I... Floyd, when you hitchhike, do you carry a rucksack? I know you haven't got one now, but you see these little iron rings? Well, there what hold the straps of a rucksack? The rest of it was burned, I suppose. Inside the cab of the truck. Well, Mr. Valentine... Now, for the last time, would you tell me the truth? Well, well, what really happened... Never mind that fawny preamble. Well, all right. I was walking down the road, see, and nobody picked me up and I was worn out, so finally I stood in the middle of the road. Then a sedan came along, didn't even see me. I had to die for the ditch. It hit my ankle, and I was still lying there when the foot truck came along. And it stopped. Sure. But I thought I'd been hurt in an accident. He helped tape up my ankle. He did here, see it? I mean, I mean he was such a conscientious jerk, he wouldn't let me ride. I said if anybody was seen in his cab, he'd be fired. It was the rules. Well, I pretended I was sicker than I was, and he finally opened the back of the truck where I couldn't be seen. He said he'd dump me out before he got to Bakersfield. Then what happened? Well, well, I was so tired I'd probably sleep and the next thing I knew were they'd been this accident. He broke the whole rear end, you saw how? Well, I was off afraid for a second and the fire was burning around me, and, well, you know all the rest. Yeah. Now even forgetting it's a wild story, what bothers me is, why didn't you say all this in the first place? It's like pulling teeth. Maybe we'll have to pull out a molar of Valentine. Mr. McGee? Yes, yes, I've been out there listening. Some story, son. Well, it's what really happened. Is it? I just got a phone call, Valentine. Coroner in Paso Rovo says Tommy Tucker was murdered. What? Hit over the head with a heavy instrument, sometime before the accident. The instrument appears to be that flesh like we found. Your fingerprints are on it, Floyd. We'll return to tonight's adventure of George Valentine in just a moment. Maybe you're counting on your favorite football team to do its very best this coming weekend. If you're driving to the game, I can tell you how to make sure your car does its very best. What the team does is up to the coach. What your car does depends on your choice of gasoline. Make it Chevron Supreme gasoline, for here's a premium quality gasoline that's climate tailored. Tailored to the season and to each different altitude and temperature zone in the West. That means peak performance whenever you drive and wherever. Try a tank full of Chevron Supreme tomorrow. Right away, you'll notice the difference. Faster starts, smoother pickup and traffic, ping-free power on hills. In fact, you can't buy a better gasoline for today's high compression engine. Get Chevron Supreme at standard stations and at independent Chevron gas stations, where they say and mean, we take better care of your car. Now back to tonight's adventure of George Valentine. You go to a little roadside café on Highway 41 east of Paso Robles. You go to help a girl who wants you to help a boy. A girl is plain lonely. But the boy's little hearted a figure. Lloyd Bronson was in the wreck of a truck last night, but it's like pulling teeth to get in to tell you about it. And if you're anything like George Valentine, you're never very satisfied with the teeth you extract. Which ones are real and which ones are false? Well, just now Mr. McGee of the Sheriff's Office has said something which may shed a little light on the subject. Good Samaritan who stops to pick up a hitchhiker then gets brained and robbed for his kindness. Afterwards it's a good idea to wreck the vehicle, cover up the evidence. I didn't do it. Well, how about your fingerprints on that flashlight? Well, I've been thinking about that. I guess I held the flashlight while he put the tape on my anchor, you know, like I told you. Huh, you always seem to have explanations after we tell you what we want explained. Well, sometimes it's hard to remember, that's all. Oh, kid, kid, you watch the world like a card player expecting a crooked deal. Well, don't you know how that makes you look? A sharpie holding aces in his pocket. Oh, everything I told you is the truth. You can't prove anything as a lie, can you? No, Floyd, I'll say that for you. You don't trip yourself, but then neither does a lizard. Come on, Valentine, let's go into town and see what else the coroner... Wait a minute, wait a minute, Mr. McGee. Why, I'll send up a troll car back for you. Yeah, but I just thought of something. I did. You know, it is hard to remember. I mean, what really happened? This had better be good. Well, like I told you, I was asleep in the back of the truck, remember? Well, I think I heard voices. Voices? Where? Well, we'd gone over a bump or maybe we'd stopped. Yeah, yeah, that's it. And then riding along, I heard the driver talking to somebody with him in the cab. Hey, wait a minute. How did you know it was the driver talking? Well, well, I didn't exactly. I mean, the whole thing was kind of a memory. That's all, two voices up there. But he must have stopped to pick up another hitchhiker, don't you think? Sure, sure, that must have been it. That must have been it. It won't work, son. Who was it told us Tommy Tucker wouldn't carry riders up front? He said he was so conscientious about the rules he wouldn't take a hitchhiker up there. Oh, well, I did. But, well, I might have been wrong about that. And maybe he just didn't want me to ride up there. Kid, kid, don't make it any worse. Well, Mr. Valentine, I suppose Tucker might have picked somebody up, but I can't believe it. What about a man riding in the back of the truck? Well, he thought the boy was heard, and there's no way the load could be bothered. I wouldn't blame a driver for that. He wouldn't have given his mother-in-law a ride to her own funeral. What's that? No, it's a pack. Evans is my name, wholesale plumbing. Just been waiting for a chance to help you guys. Yeah, well, look, salesman. Timid Tommy Tucker, that was my name for him. Oh, a real sweet boy. Don't misunderstand me, but he swallowed the rulebook. You know what I mean? Afraid of the powers that be. Now, look, Frank. Wait a minute, George. Go on, Mr. Evans. A pleasure, Miss. South of King City about a month ago, I ran out of gas and tried to flag a hitch. Long came Tommy, but you think he'd pick me up? No, not on your 10-type. And that's me, mind you. Traveled the same route all the time. A friend practically, you know? Yeah, yeah. I think we get the idea. Another funny thing that happened was... Thanks, Mr. Thanks. Now, I doubt if Tommy did pick up a second hitchhiker, or that he was carrying anyone in front, Mr. Valentine, or maybe even in the back. Well, at least some of Floyd did. Well, at least some of Floyd Bronson's story isn't true. How do you know? How do you know a person's guilty until they've been proven so? How do you? I don't want to come over here. Would you excuse us? All right, sir. But how do you... Now, you listen to me. I don't get mad at a case just because I don't like the way somebody parts his hair. But that boyfriend of yours can't even look me in the eye. It's only a habit, Mr. Valentine. Is it? You've been standing around watching everything. Scared of that Floyd to get himself in deeper and deeper. Just that... Oh, well, I knew he'd act that way. That really stand up for himself, right? How did you know, Wanda? Well, even yesterday, he... he told me things that weren't true. What things? Well, just little things. But jobs he'd had, and he was going to get. Quarting people he knew. Patience he'd been. Sure, sure. A little boy with a big line. Oh, kid, what you see in a guy like that is beyond me. Mr. Valentine, he doesn't mean to tell things. And, gosh, nobody can be perfect. Only... Only, I don't even think Floyd Branson's his name. Holy sister, why didn't you say... Oh, I'm so tired now, I'm not sure. But, well, he gave me an address I could write to him later on. He wrote it on an old envelope. Only... Well, there was a place where he'd scratch the name out. And it was sort of like his. It was Mickey Floyd. Mickey Floyd, huh? Here. Give me some change for the phone. Long distance. The phone's across the highway at the motel. But, Mr. Valentine... Oh, now, relax, relax. Come on, come on, get some change. Yeah. So, that's the story. Okay, Lieutenant Riley, thanks. Sure, I got it. Well, George, what'd they say in the city? Same thing they'll say in the country. As soon as McGee's fingerprint report comes through. George, what are you talking about? Mickey Floyd, alias Floyd Bronson, escaped from a reform school up in Idaho last week. Oh, no. Yeah, that's our boy, Angel. Oh, what are you going to tell Wanda? The truth? She'll just have to get over it. Well, George, at least it explains the way Floyd's been acting. He was just trying to hide who he is. Uh-uh, think again. Which would you rather have happen? Be caught and sent back to reform school? I'll let yourself be thrown in jail for murder. Now, Brooksy, there's something else that we... Hey, come on. What's that? Hey, Evans. Evans, what's happened? Oh, brother, I don't know. Somebody said the kid broke up. What? A troll car came to pick him up, but they found the cabin open in the guard nocta. Ah, sure, listen to that. He must have headed up through the woods. Come on. No, no, we'll meet you. Go ahead. Brooksy, if he's running up there, there's nothing we can do. But if Floyd's really got a bad ankle, then he'd more likely head down the other way, wouldn't he? You make a getaway? What do you mean, George? I mean I ought to have my head examined. I left the keys of my car back in the highway. So long, Angel. Get away from me, Mr. Valentine. Look out. Oh, no, you don't. Whoa, whoa, whoa, will you? No, no. I said move over. I'm driving this buggy. I wasn't going to steal you, huh? Oh, no, just borrow it. Say, whose car is that? That's it in. How should I know? Well, what are you doing? I just wanted time to tell you how crazy you are, Buster. Out of the frying pan into the fire. Run, run, run. That's all you think of. Okay, well, for my money, you're guilty. But I'm not. I didn't kill anybody. Yeah, you said that. Now, come on. Describe the inside of that fur truck for me again. Come on, come on, the back end of the truck. Oh, well, well, it was pretty dark and I was sleepy. But, well, there was a big box that silver pox on it. And I laid down next to a big bolted crate that said chinchilla. The bolts kept banging me. You're going to stick with that hogwash? Hogwash? But it's true. It's what happened. Why did you slug that guard? Listen, they're coming after us. I said, why did you slug that guard just now to get away? What guard? Oh, cut it out. The guard that was standing there. It wasn't there. I mean, I didn't see him. I just found the door was open. I knew I had to get away before they put me in the chair where I could. Listen, they're closing. Milwaukee, isn't it? It's all Milwaukee. You're not slugging the guard. But I didn't. You're going to stick with that stuff? Mr. Balanchine. With all of it? Are you? Your lad looks not shooting. Right faster, faster. Now, you listen to me. Are you going to stand on your feet for once? Look a cop in the eye and say that stuff and make him believe it because you believe it? Mr. Balanchine, I'm a little guy. I'm all alone. There's nobody that I can... Look out! They're right behind you. What are you doing? Just take it easy, kid. We're not going to be hurt. But... Yeah, that's right. I said we. Because I'm right here with you, Floyd. And I believe you. Everything you've said. Mr. Balanchine, what in the name of blue blaze? Obstructing justice here, I know. But now wait a minute, McGee. You just heard the boy here describe the inside of the truck, didn't you? I'll save this, McGee. It was quite an accurate description. Thanks, Justin. And how could he have known what it looked like unless the driver did let him in there? He wouldn't have known how to work the lock on the outside. And if Floyd was riding it back, how could he have got up front again to attack the driver? Well, I know we haven't got all the answers yet. But in the meantime, I can hold him for his breakaways, slugging the guard. McGee, McGee, the kid says he didn't do it. Oh, now look... The thing that's been bothering me and probably you too is that there's no other handy explanation for this whole business. Well, maybe I can come up with one. Don't count on it. You see, I think instead of it all being true, it's all false. Like the boy riding in back. Well, we turned up a witness who passed the truck on the road and who swears there were two people in front. Oh, great. But look if the kid can describe what was in back. Back, front, back, front, will you all be... Okay, okay. But McGee, just suppose there's somebody who's scared to death of Floyd. Because, well, by sheer accident, Floyd was along and asleep when a crime was committed. Funny man. And there are things in Floyd's memory like he recognized somebody's sedan over here. Well, I remember he was driven off the highway by a sedan. That's when he heard his ankle. Now, suppose it was a sedan that shouldn't have been seen in that neck of the woods last night. Go on, Valentine. The guard comes next, doesn't he? Yeah. Yeah, if there was someone who was terrified of Floyd's possible evidence and at the same time knew the kid was a perfect fall guy, wouldn't it be logical to set up a chance for Floyd to escape? The crazy kid would be bound to keep running until he'd be stopped someplace by a bullet. And then there'd never be any question of an alternate explanation. No more dangerous investigation. Well, there are lots of holes in a story like that. I'm afraid so, Mr. Valentine. And if my theory is right, Mr. Justin, then even the business of front and back fits into place. The kid said he was asleep and back and heard voices. Okay, McGee, you got a witness says there was somebody up front. Well, yes. It's true that checks, but... Only how could there be another hitchhiker in the cab when the driver was so conscientious about no writers? No, I'm sure he wouldn't have picked that up. There's only one person in the world I can figure would benefit by a carload of valuable furs being burned to a crisp, a person who'd naturally have to kill the conscientious driver to manage it. Wait a minute. Are you trying to...? And it's the only person that a driver who lived by the rules could pick up on the highway. The guy who owned the furs. The guy who wrote the rules, Mr. Justin. You. Insurance, Mr. Valentine. Well, I don't understand. Sure one. Insurance on the furs. Why, there was even chinchilla in that loader. Maybe some of them weren't even the real thing to begin with. And the insurance company would never know. Justin would just hold out his hand to get a nice fat check. But apparently he needed to keep his company going. And it was Mr. Justin who met the truck out there on 41. Sure. Probably pretended he had a flat tire or something. Only poor Tommy Tucker. It's all going to be made to look like an accident, wasn't it? That's right. It would have. But it hadn't been for your stumbling Romeo wandering into it. The police found enough evidence to make Justin confess. Oh, uh, give me a nickel, will you? Here. He has some music, Wanda. Because this is where we came in. See you later. George? What on earth? Oh, excuse me. Hello. Mr. McGee said I could come in for a few minutes and, well, anyway... Before you go back to school, huh? Well, um... Mudface is in there for him. Oh, she's a nice enough kid, I guess. I'm very attractive. But, well, maybe if you get a chance to travel around again, you'll meet somebody. No way, man. Who said she's not attractive? What do you mean, mudface? Look, Mr. Valentine, I stood in love without a criticism for you, but when it comes to one... Hey, hey, cool off. Go on, kid. Get in there. George, I wonder if he'll ever really grow up. Straighten himself off. I think he's already started. You can easily keep the outside of your car from rusting, but how are you going to protect internal engine parts when rust is responsible for 80% of the wear? That's the rust caused by acid-laden moisture. This moisture settles on cylinder walls and other vital parts the moment you turn off the ignition. The one sure way to prevent it is to use RPM motor oil for RPM is compounded to keep a moisture-proof film on all parts at all times. Even though your car stood idle for days or weeks, that acid-laden moisture could not reach internal parts, not with RPM on the job. No wonder this motor oil is first choice in the West. It's the oil that stops 80% of engine wear. Rely on RPM to add years to the life of your car and to keep repair bills at a minimum. Ask for it at independent chevron gas stations and at standard stations where they say, and mean, we take better care of your car. Tonight's adventure of George Valentine has been brought to you by Standard of California on behalf of independent chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the West. Robert Bailey is starred as George with Francis Robinson as Brooksy. Let George do it is written by David Victor and Jackson Gillis and directed by Don Clark. Also heard in the cast were Virginia Eiler as Wanda, Bill Conrad as Evans, Walter Burke as Floyd, Ted DeCorsia as Justin, and Joe DeVall as McGee. 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.