 The Mutual Broadcasting System, in cooperation with Family Theatre Incorporated, presents Vertic Guilty, starring Alexander Knox and Stanley Clemens. Dan Daly is your host. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of. We're all interested in knowing what the future holds for us. All of us would like to know how our jobs are going to hold up, how our finances and our families are going to get along. We know it's true that what the future holds depends on how well we're going to do our jobs, how well we manage our finances and families. But sometimes, even with our best efforts, things get out of hand. Yes, at times we need more help than our own efforts. And a great influence on what the future has in store for us depends on whether we shake our heads and refuse to believe in and ask for God's guidance. Or whether we lift our hearts in the direct and simple appeal of prayer for the most wonderful strength and guidance in the world. Yes, that's what God's help means. And none of us can say his life isn't better and happier with that assistance because with God, all things are possible. That's why praying together can make your family my family. All our families better and happier. Yes, family prayer is the best investment for real security in a home. Dan Daly will speak again following tonight's family theater story, Vertic Guilty, stars Alexander Knox as Dad and Stanley Clements as Eddie. Tonight, we visit the small town of Middleville in North Dakota. The Thompson family with whom we're spending the evening is a real family. They're together now at dinner, mother and dad, and their three sons, Donald, Frank and Richard Jr. That's the way it was, Dad. I was walking across the yard and he came up and socked me right in the eye. Larry Peters, you mean? Yeah, Dad. I was just coming down the school steps when I saw Larry come up and socked on. And Dan wasn't doing a thing. I think it's very unfair that the school authorities allow rough boys like Larry Peters to get away with things. Well, he isn't going to get away with this. We're going to gang up on him and really give him a working over. He won't forget it. You know, like they do in the movies. I think he deserves something. Why, he could have injured Don's eye permanently. No, wait a minute. Wait a minute. It's a disgrace. Don's eye may be blackened for... Mother, if you don't mind, I'd like to have a word in here, too. Why, of course. It's just that I'm so upset to think... Yes, I know, I know. Don. Yes, Dad? Larry Peters is your best pal, isn't he? Not anymore, he isn't. Why, if I was to be a hundred million years old, I'm never going to forgive him. Why, he just came up... You're going to do a job on Larry Peters. You're just waiting to see it. Yeah, that's right. I don't know why Larry Peters hit Don. In fact, I... I don't think I'm worried about the particulars of his fight with Larry. But there's one thing I want to impress very strongly on all of you. What's that, then? Don't say... You're never going to forgive anyone. But he's socked me right in the eye, Dad! All right, all right, wait a minute. Maybe Larry had a reason. But even if he did it on purpose, all of you have got to learn one thing. You can't go through life nursing grudges. Believe me, boys, it doesn't work. But, gee, Dad, would you forgive somebody who socked you in the eye? Boys, your father's right. You have to learn to forgive. I'll speak to the school authorities. Ash, madam, don't... You'll fix him up right. Look, boys, I've got a story you should hear. I'll tell you what. You get at your homework, and when you're finished, I want you to come downstairs, and we'll have a family conference. Maybe then you'll understand how... how wrong you are. I'd hate to see you make the same mistake a friend of mine made. All right. All right, let's finish dinner and get going. Okay, Dad. Rick, do you think you should tell the boys about that? Yes, I think I should. I was a little surprised... disappointed at their attitude during dinner. I guess I didn't help matters. Well, maybe I've seen more of how a grudge can work into the heart of a man and ruin his career. Dad, we got everything finished. Okay, boys, come on in. Come in and sit around any place. Make yourself comfortable. You want to see our homework first? Oh, I think that can wait till I finish the story. Gee, Dad, you haven't told us a story in a long time. Well, this story is about a fella I'll call him Eddie, although that isn't his real name. He's a pretty good young fella, just going on 19. He and his mother lived alone in a small house in Burkdale, about 25 miles from here. Eddie's mother worked during the day and Eddie had a job after school as a sort of handyman at the local pool room. She was the only job he could get. You know, racking pool balls, helping the man at the lunch counter. Hey, Eddie, look here, will ya? Yeah, sure. Coming right up, Miss Andrews. Gonna shoot another game? Nah, Sam and me have had enough. I, uh, just wanted to talk to you a minute. Oh, okay. You'll drive a car, don't you, Eddie? Yeah, a little. I got a jalopy. I'll ride to school and back. Well, I thought so. And could you use a little extra money? Well, you sure could. Next week is my mom's birthday and I sort of got my eye on a present for her, but it's pretty expensive. Well, now maybe you'll be able to buy that present for her after all, Eddie. And Sam and I got some business to transact over in Middleville tomorrow. And we'd like somebody to drive us over and back. Gosh, Miss Andrews. Just call me Rocky. Yeah, well, gosh, Mr. I mean Rocky, my jalopy isn't very dependable. It might get you there and then again it might not. Yeah, that's okay. I rented a car for tomorrow. But neither one of us are any good at driving. We'll meet here at noon, huh? Oh, I couldn't go that soon. You see, I got a class until three and then I come here. It's pretty important, Eddie. Couldn't you cut school for, well, say, about 25 bucks? I can fix it up with your boss here, all right? 25 bucks? Well, I got a pretty good attendance record, but gosh, for 25 bucks? I did more than buy that present for my mom. Okay, Mr. I mean, Rocky, I'll meet you at noon. I bet you I know what happened. They were gangsters. Oh, how could they be gangsters? Maybe they were going to take him for a ride because you wouldn't play ball. How could they take him for a ride? He was just going to drive the car himself. You guys. Boys, boys. Suppose you let dad tell the story. Thank you, mother. Actually, Frank, you're right. They were what you might call gangsters. Dad, you're not just making all this up. No. No, this is what really happened. Eddie met them at the pool room the following day at 12 o'clock, and they drove from Burkdale over here to Middleville. Eddie was a good driver, and they had no trouble. They stopped at a drug store because Rocky said he had a phone call to make. And then Rocky told Eddie to park in front of the bank. You mean the banker in Middleville? That's right, son. Eddie didn't know what it was all about until two policemen crept up behind him on either side of the car and pointed their guns at him. Gosh. But he got the whole story when they brought him into the bank. Rocky Anders and Sam Jackson had long criminal records behind them. The police booked Eddie as an accomplice because he was driving the car. That was a tough break for Eddie, wasn't it, Dad? Yes, all appearances were against him. Well, couldn't he explain that he wasn't doing anything wrong? He tried to. He tried very hard. But no one would believe that he was as dumb as all that. But couldn't he have told them? I'm done. Let Dad tell the story, will you? Well, they took Eddie down to headquarters to be interviewed. The detectives were around him asking him questions. Look, Eddie, I've been on the force 15 years. I've heard all kinds of stories. See, I could spot a lie three miles away. Now, come clean. Make it easy on yourself, kid. Well, I tell you, I didn't know they were going to hold up the bank. I didn't. I didn't. I thought they were their own business. Own business? That's great, Eddie. Great. They were their own business, all right. Don't you believe what I'm telling you? I didn't know a thing about it. You were going to be in on the split, weren't you? Split? Oh, I was going to get $25 for driving him over and back. $25? You work cheap, Eddie. What do you want me to say? You've had me sitting here for hours. I can't tell you. You guys are mixing me all up. Please, please. Well, come clean, kid. Give us a story. You know what happened, Eddie. You want to sit here forever until you give us the straight story? Please, please. What do you want me to do? Just sign this piece of paper, Eddie. It's only a confession, admitting you were in on the deal. And then you can go back to your cell and get a good night's sleep. Okay. Give me the paper. Only I thought telling the truth was the best way out any trouble. It is, Eddie. Sign the paper. Okay. There. Now let me lie down. Get some sleep. Please. Gee, he shouldn't have signed that paper. He was pretty dumb to sign it. I wouldn't have... Oh, go on. What could he do? He was worn out. But I bet then he tells the judge all about it, and everything's okay. Isn't it, Dad? Well, that'd be a nice way for it to end, Dick. But things don't always work out in a nice way. You know what I mean? But things don't always work out in a nice way. You see, the prosecuting attorney, that's the fellow who presents all the evidence and tries to convince the criminals. Well, he was a pretty hard-working young fellow. He saw the sign confession, and he believed Eddie was guilty. Besides, he was working hard for reelection to his job, and he knew that if he could get convictions against Rocky and Sam and Eddie, it'd help his chances. He didn't lie about Eddie, did he? No, no. He believed Eddie was guilty. But he used all the force and persuasiveness he had, and sometimes a clever prosecutor can talk about things so that the real facts aren't quite as clear as they might be. Some of the facts were against Eddie, too. It was a tough time for him, and he was confused by all the cross-examination. Where, please, young man, I have to insist that you answer the questions of the prosecuting attorney. But I'm trying to tell you what happened. Thank you, Judge. Now, Eddie, I'll ask you again. Did you, of your own free will, wait outside the bank for your accomplices? Yes, but... Did you have the motel running while you waited? Yes, but they said there'd only be a few minutes when... That's all, Eddie. Thank you. If nobody wants to hear the story, I didn't do anything. I didn't! The court will be adjourned until the afternoon session. Now, Eddie, you're making a very poor witness for yourself. You've got to speak up by answering questions when they're asked. I started out trying to tell my side of it, and every time I began saying anything, that prosecutor would interrupt me and the judge. He has every legal right to do so, Eddie. I just won't say another word. Everybody's against me. Nobody believes me. The judge said all I should do is answer the questions. He didn't even give me a chance to explain. Rocky gave me the lowdown when he passed me yesterday. You mean when he was going up to the stand? Yes, he said we were finished because the judge is working against us. He and the prosecutor are working together because... because they're both up for re-election. Hmm. And you? Well, you're my lawyer, and I don't think you even believe me. Uh, your mother's waiting to talk to you, Eddie. Do you want to see her? Well, yeah. Yeah, I guess so. I'll tell her. Won't you come up here, ma'am? Eddie. Oh, Eddie. Oh, gosh, ma'am, ma'am. I'm glad you're here. I'm scared. Now, Eddie, there's nothing to be afraid of. When you were trying to tell your story, it sounded very convincing. Mom, I know they're against me. The judge is fixing the whole thing. I-I never got a chance to tell anything. Don't you worry, Eddie. Everything will be all right. You believe me, don't you? You do, don't you? Yes, Eddie. I do. I knew you wouldn't lie to me. I-I only hope the jury will believe you. It's not the jury. It's the judge who worries me, ma'am. Now, Eddie, don't worry about anything. Just keep on telling the truth. And remember, whatever you've done, I understand, Eddie. Mom, I haven't lied except once, and that was when I signed the confession they shoved at me. I had to do it. I was tired. I just didn't know what I was doing. I wanted to get away from the way they were hounding me. I know, Eddie. Keep your head up, son. Everything will turn out all right. I know it will. I bet Eddie's mother went to the judge, and then she probably did. Maybe she did. I don't know that. That anyway, the judge couldn't do anything. It was up to the jury to decide. They said he was guilty, I bet. Yes, they found Eddie guilty. I knew they were because they- Prosecuting attorney asked the jury to protect society and place this dangerous young man where he could do no more harm. Would that mean judge disliking him? Eddie didn't have a chance. I don't think Judge Proctor actually disliked Eddie, son. Anyway, he certainly gave him the lighter sentence. The law allowed. But it didn't seem that way to Eddie. He was innocent of the actual crime. He knew he was. Still, he'd done everything he was charged with. It didn't make sense to Eddie. But in the eyes of the law, it made him guilty because by driving those men to rob the bank, he was just as guilty as if he'd walked into the bank with a drawn gun. The fact that he didn't know what they were doing didn't matter because he had no proof. And no one believed him when he said he didn't know. I believe you, Eddie. I still believe you didn't know what those men were doing. I know how it is, Eddie, but we didn't have the facts to convince the jury. It is the verdict of this court that you are guilty as charged. I hereby sentence you to two years in the state penitentiary. Eddie, that was pretty tough when he wasn't guilty. Yeah. What about the other fellas, Dad? Dad, what's this got to do with the punch in the eye and me having a grudge against Larry Peters? I'm sorry to that, son. As the other two fellas, they'd been caught red-handed. Judge Proctor gave them 10 to 20 years in the pen. How did Eddie get along? He didn't get along any too well. He was completely stunned by the sentence even though it was light. The first six months in jail were awful. He couldn't talk. He hardly ate enough to keep alive. He used to go out into the high-walled prison yard during the exercise period every day. But he never bothered with any of the other prisoners. Then one day, he was in the yard over in the shaded corner by himself. Hey, kid! Eddie! Yeah? Oh, Rocky. I've been wondering if I'd run into you. That's a tough break, kid. Don't tell me about a tough break you double-crossin'. Take it easy, kid. I'm your pal now. Yeah, my pal. Not if I can help it. Now look here. Don't talk to me. I'll square things with you, Rocky. If it's the last thing I ever do, you and that Judge Proctor. Hey, how do you think you are? The guy who was going straight, you got me into this huge sheep-tooth bitch. Hey, how do you bring it up there? I've got it. Come on, come on. Take it easy, Eddie. I'm all right. He just got what he needed. Come on, Eddie. Come on inside. You shouldn't have done that, Eddie. I'm glad I did. You'll kill any privileges you might be up for. Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself. Yeah, I know. What a kid like you. Oh, Warden. What's all the trouble? What are you up to, Eddie? I got nothing to say. Yeah, Rocky Andrews got into a fight. He slapped Rocky out cold. Eddie, this kind of thing isn't tolerated here. It's okay with me. All right. If you want to be tough, we'll let you cool off in solitary. Maybe then you'll feel more sociable. Give him three days. Okay, Chief. Gee, Dad, this is a good story. It wasn't a very good story for Eddie, son, because all the time he was growing more bitter. His bitterness was concentrating now on Judge Proctor. He was promising himself that he was going to get even on that score, too. Every time his mother came to see him, she became more worried about the way Eddie acted and the way he talked. She tried to advise him, get him to say that he'd forgive Judge Proctor, but he wouldn't answer when she asked him that. Suddenly, she stopped coming to see him. Two or three weeks passed. Eddie began to think that she was against him, too, and then one day the Warden called Eddie into his office. You wanted to see me? Yes. Come in and sit down, Eddie. Yeah? I've got some bad news for you, kid. I'm listening. Your mother died this morning, Eddie. My mom? Oh, no, no, Warden. She was... Now, take it easy, kid. She was the only one who believed me, and I... Is there anything I can do for you, kid? I didn't even give her a chance when she was up here last time. Eddie, Eddie, get a hold of yourself, fella. There are arrangements to be made. Have you any other relatives? What? No, no, I haven't. I haven't any relatives. Now, you see? This wouldn't have happened if I had a decent judge in a fair trial. He's the one. Take it easy, Eddie. You've got a fair trial, and Proctor gave you the lightest sentence... He didn't give my mother the lightest sentence. I'll get that... Now, don't get out of line again. You know what happened the last time. All right. You got me cornered. But I'll... Yeah. Yeah, I'll do my talking later. What do you mean by talking later? I'm coming to that. You see, the news of his mother's death was almost more than he could take. It nearly drove him crazy. Gosh! He built up his grudge against Judge Proctor. It wasn't long after this that the judge received a vicious letter in the mail. It was unsigned, of course, because nobody writing a threatening letter like that would sign his name. At first, the judge paid no attention to the letter. He'd received a few like it in the past, and had always ignored them. But when he received a second threatening letter in the same handwriting, he called in a close friend of his, a young attorney named Matt Ferris. You mean Mr. Ferris, who lives down the street? Yes, say Mr. Ferris. She was. Gosh, Dad, this is a real story. Yes, a true story, all right. Well, the judge and Matt Ferris talked it over. No, Matt. I tell you, there's only one way to go about this. I recognize the paper these letters were written on. It's from the penitentiary. Whoever wrote them had them smuggled out and mailed on the outside. I have the letters for a few days, judge. Of course, you're welcome to them, but I wonder if they're really worth bothering with. I think the one who wrote them means to back up what he says. Have you any idea what it is? No, no. There are any number I've sentenced who still are doing time. Of course, we have one way of finding out. We'll check the handwriting of all convicts you sentenced. That is all who are still in jail. That's a big job. You leave it to me, judge. I have a shortcut. First, I'll check those who are expecting their release soon. Well, I guess you can figure out what happened. The handwriting in those letters pointed right straight to Eddie. Was he going to get out soon? He was being given a month off for good behavior. Did they put him back in again? No, they didn't even tell him. They knew he'd written the letters. Instead, the warden and Matt Ferris and the judge worked out a scheme. You see, the warden had come to believe that Eddie was innocent. And Judge Proctor agreed that if there was any chance of Eddie's innocence, he'd feel obliged to see to it that Eddie was able to begin over again. But before their scheme could work, they first had to know what Eddie would do because they realized how bitter he was against the judge. So Matt Ferris arranged to be outside the prison waiting in a car when Eddie was free. Ranger, going into town? Huh? Oh, yeah, sure. Thanks a lot. It's getting kind of late. There you are. Climb right in. Mr. Swellia, mister. Ferris is the name. Matt Ferris. Um, you can call me Joe. Glad to know you, Joe. Staying in Middleville or just passing through? Staying until I get a little business done. You been in long? What? How long you been in the pen? Nearly two years. That's pretty tough, kid. What are you thinking of doing now? No, I don't know. Except... Except what, Joe? Except a little business in Middleville. Say, maybe I can help you, Joe. You haven't got a job and... Keep it, mister. Last time somebody gave me a job, that's what landed me behind bars. Oh? From now on, I go it alone. Just as you say, kid. Where do you want me to drop you? Well, anyway, near Rosewood and Fifth Street. I'd be careful going into that neighborhood tonight, kid. Don't worry. I can take care of myself. Look, why don't you put up at the hotel? I can fix it up tonight. Tomorrow, maybe you and I'll talk it over and we'll do some business. Listen, mister, whatever you're trying to rig me for, I'm not in business. You understand? Sure, Joe. Sure. Rosewood and Fifth, you said. Yeah. Yeah, that'll do fine. Well, Eddie had two blocks to get to Judge Proctor's house. He thought he was acting pretty clever in getting off away from the house. But what he didn't know was that Matt Ferris drove directly to the judge's house and parked in the rear of the building. A few minutes later, Eddie walked right up to the front door and rang the bell. Good evening. I want to see Judge Proctor. Well, this is the most unusual time. I don't believe the judge... What's the trouble, Parks? Well, there's a young fellow here to see you, Judge. Well, show him in. I want to see you alone. Yes, thank you. But, Judge... That'll be all, Parks. Yes, sir. Well, Eddie, what can I do for you? You can't do anything for me, Judge. I came here to... I'm going to kill you. Now, take it easy, Eddie. I happen to know that... You don't know, Judge. You don't know what I went through in two years. Yes, Eddie. I think I do. I've lived for this moment. I waited and I planned. And this evening, when I got out, I decided to throw all plans away. I'm going to kill you tonight, Judge Proctor. Now, wait a minute, Eddie. Who are you? Don't you remember me, Eddie? Matt Ferris. I drove you here. Say, what are you trying to do? All right, Parks. Grab his arms. I've got him, sir. That's good. Let me go. I didn't... All right, Eddie. You can't run away. Let me out of here. Eddie, if you run away, you'll be picked up again on several counts. First, for breaking your parole. Second, for your threatening letters. Third, on a charge of premeditating murder. Hey, wait a minute. I didn't... Eddie, why don't you come over here and sit down? I'd like to talk to you. What happened then? That was when Eddie began to see how wrong he was. The Judge Proctor was only doing his official duty when he sent him to prison. That if he had injured the judge that night, he would have ruined his whole life. I'm glad he forgave the judge. I thought you would be, Don. You see what trouble a fellow can get into by holding a grudge for a long time? Yeah. You know, maybe Larry is sorry he sought me. Maybe I had it coming to me anyhow. Well, that's strictly between you and Larry, son. What happened to Eddie afterwards, Dad? It's a funny thing about him. The judge took a great liking to Eddie. In fact, he was responsible for Eddie's getting a job and the very bank he was accused of having helped to rob. Gee. This fellow I call Eddie started out as a messenger for the National Bank. Finally, he became an important executive. Today, Eddie's president of that bank. But, Dad, I thought you were president of the National Bank. That's right, son. I am. This is Dan Daly again. You know, I got to thinking when I heard tonight's drama end in such a pleasant surprise, others learn by our mistakes just as we learn by the mistakes a worthwhile example of others. Yes, in every wholesome story or play or moving picture, we admire those who are willing to sacrifice themselves to help others, those who are generous and unselfish. I guess that's part of the legacy of inspiration that comes down from one generation to another. A legacy of example that can inspire all of us to lead better and more useful lives. And there's no greater inspiration in a family than the example of God-respecting, God-loving parents who gather their children together daily for family prayer. Daily family prayer means new understanding in a home. It means a new peace and happiness. It means a family that prays together, stays together. Before saying good night, I'd like to thank Alexander Knox and Stanley Clements for their performances this evening. Our thanks to Jack Price for writing tonight's play and to Max Tehr for his music. This production of Family Theater Incorporated was directed by David Young. Others in tonight's cast were Gene Vanderpile, Noreen Gemmel, Tommy Bernard, George Porona, Roland Morris, Ross Forrester, Lou Krugman, Griff Barnett, Herbert Rawlinson, Ed Coleman and Charles Maxwell. Next week our Family Theater stars will be Susan Peters and Robert Mitchum, in God and the Red Scooter. Your host will be Gregory Peck. This is Dan Daly saying good night and God bless you. This series of the Family Theater broadcast is made possible by the thousands of you who felt the need for this kind of program and by the mutual broadcasting system which has responded to this need. Be with us next week at the same time when Family Theater commemorates its first anniversary. Our stars will be Susan Peters and Robert Mitchum with Gregory Peck as host. Tony LaFranco speaking. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System.