 Auto-Lite and its 96,000 dealers present Suspense. Auto-Lite brings you over the bounding main, a suspense play starring Mr. Dan Daly. A little light in this garage. Sorry, honey, I forgot. You forgot. You forgot. Too bad you can't forget to wake up some morning. Look, just because you had a couple too many drinks at the Warrens, you don't have to get nasty. I had too many. Are you kidding? I watched you. Don't think I didn't. Oh, come on. Let's go in. I've got to be downtown early. For what? That you can make enough to buy a house with Catalina like the Warrens? Get a new car? There's a little thing called money. But you wouldn't know. You've got to find the right job. Are we going to go over that again? Yes, we're going over that again. I'm ashamed when I go out. Did you see what she was wearing? Keep your voice down, the neighbors. You say that again and I'll kill you. You'll be sorry in the morning. I'll be sorry, all right. Sorry like every other morning because you'll be here. In just a moment, Mr. Dan Daly in the first act of Over the Bounding Maine. See, Wilcox, what's your favorite fall hobby? Fishing. And for what? For compliments on ignition-engineered auto-light spark plugs and I catch plenty. What kind of bait do you use? Cars with sluggish gas-hungry engines whose spark plugs are not functioning properly. When auto-light spark plugs go to work on these lazy, limp and listless lorries, wow, they start up like a trout after a fly. Speed along smooth as a sailfish and use less gas than a salmon swimming downstream. Must have a pretty good line. Yes, sir. The auto-light spark plug line is the best there is because auto-light spark plugs are designed by the same auto-light engineers who design the coil distributor and all the other important parts that make up the complete ignition system used as original factory equipment on many of America's leading makes of cars. When you replace worn-out spark plugs with ignition-engineered auto-light spark plugs, you get quick starts, smoother performance, gas savings. I'm hooked, Harlow. Thank you, my fickle fisherman. Friends, this fall, have your spark plugs checked by your friendly auto-light spark plug dealer and have him replace worn-out spark plugs with new ignition-engineered auto-light resistor or standard type spark plugs. Then you'll know why you're always right with auto-light. And now with over the bounding main and the performance of Mr. Dan Daly, auto-light hopes once again to keep you in suspense. You don't need a rest. I certainly do, Marty. I'm so tired of this lousy apartment I could scream. Oh, scream and let the neighbors have some fun. I'm sick of them, too. The ones were darn nice to invite us. I didn't say we can't go. You never say anything anymore or do anything either. You're sure in a swell mood tonight. I should have stayed downtown. In which joint? Lay off. I'm tired. From what? You're not working. Now, don't start that again. You know I'm looking. Looking? Can I live on nothing? Look at these clothes. I'm ashamed to go out in the street. Now tell me how much better off you were when you were married to that wise operator Lou. I was. At least I owned shoes without holes in them. Yeah. Lou Barris was just a little dream man. Just so ginger peachy, you could hardly wait to leave town with me. The day I divorced Lou, I wanted if I was making a mistake. And the day after I became Mrs. Martin Evans, I knew I had. You're going to be a lot of fun on this fishing trip. Don't tell me we're going after all. I can stand a vacation, too. They call it the Pacific Ocean. It means peaceful, which is something I could use right now. I guess a lot of it was my fault. I wanted the right kind of a job and it was hard to find. Ever since Claire had got rid of Lou Barris or ex, we'd been living pretty close. And Claire wasn't used to it. The Warrens made it worse. They were well healed and I was supposed to keep up with the Warrens. I knew I couldn't ever do it. Maybe Claire knew it, too. Claire had got the invitation for us to go with the Warrens to Catalina, so now we were driving down 22nd Street and San Pedro to the landing. It was nearly six in the morning and you could see a light fog drifting in the harbor. Don't forget to lock it. Sure. Look out for the fishing rods, will you? You better give me the keys. You're so careless. I won't lose them. I know you. All that junk in your pockets, you'll lose them. Don't worry. I will. Why don't you let me hang on to them? We'll be in a nice mess if we... All right, all right. Here they are. Thank you, dear. I guess we're the first ones here. I don't see Bob's car. Oh, I forgot to tell you. We're meeting him at the USM. On the island? Yeah. He's been there all week. You didn't say anything about it, I thought. Well, Pete's sake, what difference does it make if you're worrying about chartering a boat to get us there? You can stop. It's all arranged. Bob's paying for it. They know you're broke. Sure, you blabbed that to everyone. I was a great guy when I had it. Well, you lost it, so let's not talk, shall we? That's okay with me. That must be the boat down there. The pelican. Is that the name? I think so. Yeah, that's it. Watch your step. Why are the devilly aware shoes like that on a fishing trip? Because they're all I have. Fishing boats. You the captain on this tub? Oh, no, no, no, no. I made Matthews. Deckhand. I helped run the engine. Where is he? He went ashore for a minute, sir. Well, I'm ready anytime he is. Here, sonny, take my stuff below. See you, senora. Right away. A smart-looking kid. Oh, gosh. Is it only six? You'll wake up when we get going. Could you be sorry? Captain, coming down the dock now. Oh, yeah? Now we get started, huh? See you, senora. I read where the albacore are running. Well, it may be, senora. I have only been working on the pelican for two days. We have some big white feather jigs you control with that. Wow. See you, senora. Mr. Evans, the wife is below taking a nap. Hello. Make this fog a lift. Any idea how far offshore we might hit albacore? There's no telling. Through each Catalina. Depends on the fog. This season has been good. Give him a line. Give it to me. Maybe he didn't hear me. I lost your tackle. I down there lost my skin. The Ignacio hadn't meant so quick on his feet. Sorry. Ash is on the road. Sorry. That was Dan. I've wrecked your car. And he left your wife, strangled your mother. But it's okay, mister. I'm sorry. And that was all I got. He just turned back to the wheel and then something stuck in my memory. I kept thinking I'd seen the guy before. Never talked to him. I met him. Somehow I knew him. I looked him over. Six foot one. Black hair. The usual amount of face. I couldn't pin him down. I figured it was just one of those mental tricks. Or maybe he looked like my uncle Phil and let it go. I started after when all of a sudden Claire came out on deck. She rushed to the stern, looked over and then spun around and saw me. She had a strange look on her eye and her face was as white as a seagull's wing. What's the matter? Are you sick? No. I... Yes. I think I'm seasick. There is a bit of a swell. Stay on deck. You'll feel better. No. I'm going to lie down again. Okay. Gee, you look pretty bad. Come on. I'll help you down. No wonder you feel lousy. Oil and dead bait. I'm not kidding. You'll feel better up here. Let me alone, will you? Hey, what's the matter with the engine? Oh, should I know? Well, take it easy. Yeah. It'll be on our way in a few minutes. Yeah? Looks like the fire's getting thicker. Don't you think you ought to sound your horn? It's on the blink. Well, this tub's in great shape. That'll do. Where's the kid? Ignacio. He's below, hunting down the trouble. Nice kid, you know? If it wasn't for him, right? Yeah. I want to give him something when we get off. You'll do that. Uh, I saw a couple of boils out there a minute ago. Albuco, get your line in the water. Relax. Drifting in the Catalina Channel with no motor, no fog horn, and you couldn't see more than 20 feet out. I threw my line in and tried to forget it. And the way the Albuco was striking, I almost did. After a couple of hours, maybe three, I'd had enough, so I folded up with my back with a bait tank and dozed off. When I woke up, we were still drifting, and the fog was even thicker. Then I realized it was getting dark. I started to look for Moran. I felt something was wrong, something besides the motor. And when I heard their voices, I knew it. You don't have any choice. It'll be dark in an hour. I can't stall him with his bum motor gag much longer. Please. I don't get it. You come crawling to me with his big ideas, or why get squeamish? He's with a lot more dead than alive, 20 grand, isn't he? I just can't do it. Now, listen, baby, there's a lot of dough invested in the guy, and it's going to go through on schedule. We're going to trade one bullet for 20,000 bucks. There isn't any way of backing out. Over the bounding main. Lights production in radio's outstanding theater of thrills. Suspense. Would we? The whale of a job being done by ignition engineered auto light spark plugs. Delighted drivers declare that for fast starts, smoother engine performance, and gas savings, these ignition engineered auto light spark plugs can't be beat. I'm going, Jonah. I'm listening. And, like Jonah, auto light ignition engineers know their business from inside to out, from head to tail. Auto light engineers design spark plugs just as they design the complete ignition system used as original factory equipment on many of America's leading makes of cars. That's why auto light spark plugs are engineered to work together perfectly with the coil distributor and the rest of the ignition system. You're spouting like Moby Dick, Wilcox. Well, I'm always glad to spout about those great ignition engineered auto light spark plugs. They're unexcelled for quick starts, smoother performance, gas savings. Hark to Harlow, the happy harpooner. Thousands of motorists agree that auto light spark plugs are the best bet for better driving. Replace worn out spark plugs with ignition engineered auto light, resistor, or standard type spark plugs. And remember, you're always right with auto light. And now auto light brings back to our Hollywood soundstage Mr. Dan Daly in Elliott Lewis' production of Over the Bounding Mane. A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. I don't think I was scared. Not at first, it is. You can only take in so much, and then something in your mind shuts it off. I stood there in the fog in the darkness to help me. The only thing I could think of was how the Warrens would take it when I didn't arrive at the isthmus. Sounds crazy, doesn't it? Then from somewhere, a fog horn sounded off in the distance and I came too like someone had thrown water on my face. I almost laughed at myself. The Warrens were probably playing canasta over in Brentwood or drinking beer in front of somebody's television set. This fishing trip was Claire's idea and the only thing she planned on booking was a $20,000 policy on the life of Martin Evans. I moved away and toward the stern. I needed help now. And maybe there was somebody I could tell him. That young deckhand, Ignacio. I found him all right. A sprawl in a space in the bow lying over the anchor. Kid. Ignacio. He smelled like a distillery. I shook him, slapped him as hard as I dared but he went right on sleeping. Captain Moran had taken good care of the only friend I had with the Mickey's port into him. He'd be lucky if he ever woke up. Now I was good and scared. It was almost completely dark. Moran would be coming on deck and then I remembered the gap. The pole with a razor sharp hook at the end. I'd used it to pull up the alcohol on deck. I moved to the stern quietly, feeling with my feet because I couldn't see now. And I tripped over something and caught on the deck. It was the gap. And I grabbed it and got up. Evans. I couldn't see him and he couldn't see me. I moved silently around the deck in a crazy game of blind man's bluff. Just moving away from his voice and trying to think of a way out. Evans. Can you hear me? I heard him all right. His voice sounded muffled as though the fog was a black foot closing off the world. Like they drop over a guy's head on the gallows. Gallows. Rope. There was a coiler heavy rope on the forward deck. A coiler heavy rope on the forward deck. All right, Evans, you can't get very far. You can't shoot up the ship. A dozen bucks worth of awful. The only thing I'm so about is the lousy jerk won't be able to watch us enjoy it. But a safe is a turkey in November. If Moran should notice that missing coiler rope wouldn't take him long to figure out exactly what had made that splash in the water. He couldn't see any better than I could. But as soon as it got light there I'd be out in the open without a prayer. And the only thing I'd gain was a few hours at the most. So I huddled against the rail and hung onto the fishing gap feeling like David might have if he'd have broken his slingshot just before he met Goliath. It gets cold out of the ocean and the fog can soak through summer denims in a hurry. I started the ship. I had to clamp my jaw to get it tight to keep my teeth from chattering. But the coal did one thing. It seemed to free some of the fear out of me and I started to think I had it pretty well figured out. All except one thing. When I heard Claire and Moran coming out in deck. You don't love sit-up. Those cups are smart. One little angle where our stories don't match and I'll just keep your head. Don't worry about me. This is important now once more. Not again. Once more. Now who had the shot? I did. And? I rushed on deck to see Ignacio struggling with Marty. Ignacio had a gun? Ignacio had a gun. He and Marty fought. We hit the side. Marty went overboard. And our engine's dead. He just disappeared in the darkness, right? Can't we start back? Well, I gotta change some parts first. Make it look like the engine really was out. See? Every little angle counts. I wish it was over. And for Pete's sake remember my name is Moran and you never saw me until you got on board the pelican. There's no way they can check. I don't even have a locket anymore. Good. Gonna fix the engine. As it gets light, we'll head back to port. I had forgotten all about Claire's locket. But when she mentioned it, the last chunk of this puzzle dropped into the slush. Now I wonder why I hadn't thought of it before. That crummy little locket, hard shape with Claire's picture on one side and Lou Barris's on the other. The one she wanted to keep for sentiment's sake. Her first husband Lou Barris, the guy I remembered from the picture, Captain Moran. That's who he was. That's who he was and all figured. Lou scores a triple play. Gets his wife back with 20 grand in a purse and pays off Martin Evans with a one-way trip to the bottom of the ocean. And I couldn't think of any way to stop him. For all minutes, when I thought of the dame, he was swinging from the stern about 25 feet off. Somehow in the dark, I found a line and was about to pull on it when I saw Claire come on deck. I didn't move. You make a sound, I'll hook this gaff right through your throat. Marty. Yeah, return from the dead. And I haven't anything to lose. Pull on it. You and me are getting into the dinghy. All right. You had it all figured out, didn't you? But you forgot one thing. Lou has to marry again to collect the dough. And if you're not alive... Marty, please. I'm sorry, I am. Give me that rope and don't move. I've been wrong. I know it. Sure. I'm glad you're all right. I've been wrong about us. Don't worry. I won't kid you unless I have to. You're my new insurance policy. Now, get over into the boat. Sure it's little and the ocean's big What are you saying? Not a sound. Get in. I had a gaff at Clare's and that clue couldn't do a thing. His one bullet would cost him Clare, 20,000 bucks, and maybe his life. We drifted off a bit and I reached for the oars. Put the warrant in. The warrant and the oars. When I looked up, I saw Moran standing in the stern of the pelican. Evans, I can see you. That's right. But you try to shoot me and I'll kill Clare. She can't help you. Want a chance for him, honey? Don't you understand? I'm sorry. I don't want you to die. I want to be with you. I was wrong. You bet you were wrong. You're going to find out. We're going to paddle. Paddle with our hands. If we can lose him in the fog, we'll be all right. Just remember, if he finds me, it's too bad for you now. Paddle. Get over on this. Look out. Look out. She's tipping. Look out. You lost her. The gaff. Yeah. I lost her. Look at me. I want to help you get away from him. Sure, I believe you. But if he finds us, as soon as I see the boat, I'm going to knock you out and throw you overboard. That's how I believe you. Now paddle. I love you. I'm on your side. I won't let him hurt you. Shut up. The patch of fog dissolved for a second. And in the darkness, I saw a darker shade. It was a pelican. I knew that Lou had seen us. I reached for Clare. I fell a shoulder, then a neck. Clare. I wanted to hit her. But I felt her neck was warm and it was a little pulse under my fingers. He's lost the gaff. She was telling him to shoot me and suddenly it didn't matter anymore. The pelican loomed over us and then Clare twisted away from me and I didn't hear. I was tired. All right. Come on, Evans. Get up here. I want you found on deck. Give me your hand, Clare. Get it over with. I'm staying. Give me the gun, Lou. Let me do it. Are you kidding? No. Give it to me. I hate him. No, baby. I'm not hitting you on that. I can't hold it. Yeah. I don't want you to drift away now. A deck looking down at what used to be Lou Barris. Clare handed me the gun and just stared at me. We didn't say anything for a long time. The sun will be breaking through soon. Do you believe what I told you before? Yeah, I believe it, huh? I'm sorry. I'll try to make it up to you. Sure. We better get going. We're going back to San Pedro? Yeah. I guess I can figure out how this thing runs. Marty, what about me? I've got to tell the police. Maybe it won't be too tough. I don't know. Better. Marty. Yeah? Do you still care? I mean... I was going to kill you back there and I didn't. You figure it out. And fishing is real bright. But what he's really best at is talking auto light. Thanks, Hap. You're right. I'm inspired by auto light. Auto light makes more than 400 products for cars, trucks, planes, and boats in its 28 plants from coast to coast. These include complete electrical systems used as original equipment on many of America's finest cars. Generators, coils, distributors, voltage regulators, wiring cables, starting motors, and electric windshield wipers. All engineered to work together perfectly as part of the auto light team. All engineered to give you an excelled auto light service. Don't accept electrical parts supposed to be as good. Ask for and insist on auto light, original factory parts at your neighborhood service station, car dealer, garage, or repair shop. Remember, you're always right with auto light. Next week on Suspense, Mr. Dana Andrews as star of the crowd. And here is Mr. Andrews to tell you about it. Have you ever noticed when a person dies on a city street how quickly the crowd gathers? As a police lieutenant, I knew that one person in that quickly gathering crowd was responsible for the death of the man lying on the busy street. Yes, next week Mr. Dana Andrews as star of the crowd. And in the weeks to come, you will hear such famous stars as Joseph Cotton, Miriam Hopkins, and Milton Burl. All appearing in, tales well calculated to keep you in, Suspense. Tonight's Suspense play was produced and directed by Elliot Lewis with music composed by Lucian Moroek and conducted by Lud Bluskin. Parts of this program were transcribed. Over the Bounding Main is an original play written for Suspense by Gloria Elmore and Jimmy Barnett. Dan Daly may soon be seen in the 20th century box production My Blue Heaven with Betty Grable. And remember, next week on Suspense, Mr. Dana Andrews in The Crowd. To CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.