 And now, stay tuned for the program that has rated tops in popularity for a longer period of time than any other West Coast program in radio history. The Signal Oil Program, The Whistler. Transcribed by the Signal Oil Company for Christmas Eve, to enable the entire production staff of The Whistler to spend Christmas Eve at home with their families. Signal, the famous go-father gasoline, invites you to sit back and enjoy another strange story by The Whistler. I'm The Whistler, and I know many things for I walk by night. I know many strange tales hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadows. Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. And now for the Signal Oil Company, The Whistler brings you a most unusual story, one of the most heartwarming stories of our times, especially appealing this Christmas Eve. Three wise guys. Was the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Even Broadway, that glamorous avenue of make-believe in far away New York, seemed empty, deserted. Most cafes and eating places were closed, but the doors of an occasional refuge for those hearty souls who prefer to walk alone were still open. Such a place was Good Time Charlie's Bar on 49th Street, where on another Christmas Eve, a series of unusual events began, ending in one of the most unusual stories Good Time Charlie had ever listened to. At the moment, Charlie is listening to the voice of a man named Al. As is well known to one and all, Charlie, I am not one to complain, but it strikes me that Broadway would bring very little tonight on the open market. I know you ten, maybe fifteen years, Al. Until now, I don't know you know there is an open market. For the past twelve months that I know of, I am one hundred percent legitimate. Honest, legitimate Al. Want another rock candy and rye without the rock candy? I very seldom indulge in alcoholic beverages, but in answer to your question, yes. Haven't seen you for a year, Al. Want to run over that part again where you tell me you're playing it straight for the past twelve months? As of last Christmas Eve, I am a one hundred percent honest ticket scalper. I do not make a killing, but I get that good warm feeling that comes with being one hundred percent legit. It feels good to play it straight. Cozy. You want to tell me about it, Al? I do not mind if I do, Good Time Charlie. It all begins a year ago tonight, right here in your strictly high-class drum. Blondie Swanson was here with me, remember? Yeah, I think I do remember, Al. Now, Blondie Swanson is one of the gentry which operates on that side of the law as very few called right. Though Blondie himself always feels this is a matter of opinion. But Blondie is not concerned with his racket a year ago tonight. You are busy chauffeuring the bar, Good Time Charlie, so maybe you do not notice the sad scene. Yep, it is last year just about the same time when Blondie comes in here, his big-frame pretzels with grief. Hello, Al. Well, how are you, Blondie? I see you are not so happy tonight. Why not join me in a medicinal rock candy and rye without the rock candy? I am fighting off a touch of grip. Okay, Al. I got a bad case of memories tonight. If rye can pack away the grip, maybe it can take a load off my memories. Hey Charlie, two more rock candies and rye without the rock candy. I'll slide them down. Are these conversational memories, Blondie, or shall we give them to clan? You recall a doll named Clarabel Carbell. Miss Clarabel Carbell? Of course I do. She is well-known to one and all on Broadway as a leading light with George White scandal some years back. Yeah. Well, Christmas Eve is an anniversary for me. It was on Christmas Eve that Clarabel left me to marry an honest guy in Akron, Ohio. There you are. Oh, freak up, Blondie. Up to now, I remember Miss Clarabel Carbell as a doll with glass age judgment. Why did she put distance between her and you? Well, Clarabel was a girl that didn't care as much about how much money you had as she did where you got it. She felt that my role was ample but painted. And this is why she puts on the exit? Right. I can see now that she was right, but now it's too late. There must be other dolls as beautiful and desirable and not such quiz masses as to where the scratch comes from. I'll never look at another da-ga doll again. They're there for other guys. Hey, Blondie. Blondie Swanson. Well, if it ain't the Dutchman. Oh, look. Ow! Ow! Blondie, you tied all around. I cannot believe my eyes, Dutchman. I have not seen you in these parts for maybe a full calendar or so. I've been detained in the West. Oh, it's a sad story. And I can see that all you two guys need is one more sad story. But you're not going to hear none. I got good news for you. You have come to the right place, Dutchman. I always get kind of down on Christmas Eve. What I'm going to tell you will give you a big lift. Blondie, you and me have pulled a few fast deals together. But I got one tonight that's the softest touch of all. Oh, you can listen, Al. We'll cut you in two. I have turned down soft touches before. But not wishing to be rude, I will hear you out. Well, someone's back. Three other guys and me knocked off a tin safe in a factory over in Pennsylvania. It was a cinch hall on account of we received a dead center tip. The tip was on the level. So we stashed 50 Gs in our grip sack and get set to hit the open road. Something detain you? The cops. After hot blasting from both sides, I find myself alone on the lamb with 50 Gs in the grip sack. But it's not a clean getaway. And I figure it's better to find a hiding place for the doe. Not wanting to be caught with the goods. I am beginning to get the idea. You're suggesting that the three of us go for this doe tonight and cut it three ways. That's the idea. It's in an unpopulated barn under the floorboards. When I decide to go get it, the first guy I think of is you, Blondie. How about it? I must admit I got no other plans, Dutchman. Nice of you to think of me. Count me in. How about you, Al? I am not generally known as a spoilsport, but this prospect, frankly, holds no appeal for me. I do not wish to join the party. This is your final answer? Yes, Dutchman, you may quote me. I will not go with you. Well, good time, Charlie. That's the way it went. I am certain I will not leave your bistro that night. I am negative to the whole scheme and I'm nixing it loud and clear to one and all. So imagine my surprise at some later point to find myself warm and cozy in the back seat of the Dutchman's ancient philosophy, dogging it through the snow-covered countryside. The whole setting is so peaceful, I am catching small doses of snooze. But in between times, I cannot help but overhear the up-front conversation of Blondie and the Dutchman. You sure this is the right road, Dutchman? Certainly, I'm sure. I could fly this road blind if necessary. You are not flying blind now, so you must have noticed that the radiator is percolating again. I think we better stop and take on another load of snow. Ah, I guess we'll have to, but I sure hate these delays. Hey, Dutchman, listen. Must be coming from that little church. Yeah, yeah, come on, help with the snow on the radiator. Sounds real pretty, that kind of saying. You think that's pretty? Well, you hear real music. The kind money makes when it's crisp. Hey, hey Blondie, Dutchman, where are we? In Pennsylvania, Al. Not far from that barn where I stashed a factory payroll. How can you tell? I can see very little but darkness around and above. I got to agree with Al, Dutchman. I got a feeling we are lost. Maybe we better give the whole ski mile. You two give up easy. I tell you, I know for certain we're close to that barn. I can tell by that big fat star I've been following for the last few miles. Oh, yeah. And I am seeing a small lighter here, but I observe that this is a star. It is hanging very low to the ground. I still got a feeling we are lost. Why don't we go back to good time, Charlie, which is a lot easier to find. I don't care how low this star is hanging. I know it's leading me straight. I'm running this show, so you two better seal up. Hey, look, I'm right as rain. This is a barn. I do not wish to start an exchange of works, but that star you funneled turns out to be nothing more than a light from the window of said barn. Okay, so somebody's living in a barn. I'll take care of them if they're too hard to get along with. I vote for Gitnada here. I am not dressed to call on strangers myself. Come on, and cut the gab. Besides, maybe there's only animals in a barn. I don't see no human footprints in the snow, except ours. Look. All the dog gone. Look through that window, Blondie. Is that a doll in there? Let me see. Yeah. Yeah, she's a doll. Not only that, I don't think she's feeling in the pink either. Well, now that we are here, let us go inside and see if there's anything we can do for her. I don't care nothing about a sick doll. I want to lay my mitts on a grip sack with a 50 G's in it. Come on. Who's that? We mean no harm. We... well, for... if it ain't Miss Clarivelle Cobb. Impressive. Friends, to all of you who have opened your homes to the Whistler, not only throughout the year, but even tonight on Christmas Eve, the Signal Oil Company has asked me to express their sincere appreciation for this privilege and pleasure. And we of the cast want to add our thank you, too. During the eight consecutive years that the Whistler has been broadcast by Signal Oil Company, many of us have celebrated Christmas with many of you a number of times. And believe me, we're mighty proud that you consider us part of your entertainment family. Tonight, on behalf of Signal Oil Company and the independent Signal Dealers who serve you in the states of California, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Nevada, Arizona and Utah, I want to convey warmest season's greetings. May the many blessings of living in these United States of America enrich your holiday season and the new year. Yes, Al, that isolated barn in the snow-swept Pennsylvania countryside so far removed from good time Charlie's Bar where you're now enjoying Charlie's rock candy and rye without the rock candy. Held a surprising development for you, Blondie Swanson and the Dutchman didn't. The three of you had driven there that Christmas Eve a year ago to claim the $50,000 payroll the Dutchman had hidden there. The presence of Miss Clarabelle Cobb in the barn at your arrival was something not even her ex-boyfriend Blondie Swanson could fathom immediately. And you were even more puzzled than Blondie, weren't you, Al? Only the Dutchman seemed to have the faintest understanding of what it's all about. So, you turned to the Dutchman. Dutchman, I am not understanding all this. Why do you not inform us? Listen, Al, you and Blondie better clear out of here for a while. Take a walk in the snow. I guess I'll have to take care of this doll. Huh? Hey, look, Dutchman, I haven't seen Clarabelle for a long time. If you think I'm going to leave her now and go for a walk with her, you are nuts. Besides, which Dutchman, this doll is clearly at grips with some strange malady. I do not think it is polite the three of us should visit in this manner at this time. Listen, I came here to get 50 Gs, not a sick doll and a lot of lip from you two. This won't take long, so blow! But, Dutchman! I'm getting fed up with you, Blondie. I know what I'm doing. I've delivered seven of the eight kids my wife had. And I never needed no doctor. This will be a cinch. Now will you get out of here? I cannot help but say this is quite a night for surprises, Blondie. Yeah. I, for one, can take winter sports or leave them to someone else. Al? Yeah, Blondie. We could take the Dutchman's car there. You think Clarabelle will be better off if we get her a doc? Well, I am new in this racket, Blondie. But if you want an inexperienced opinion, I will say... What was that? What? That! Well, Blondie, I am new in this racket. But if you want an inexperienced opinion, I will say... Ms. Clarabelle Cobb is a cinch mother. Come on, let's get back to the barn. She wouldn't cry, Clarabelle. No sense crying. Oh, Blondie! I know, if all of a sudden I found myself with a brand new kid, I wouldn't be crying. Especially since it's such a... such a beautiful kid. You really think he's beautiful, Blondie? Oh, I sure do. He's sleeping, huh? Uh-huh. Bless his heart. If he only gets a break. Oh, don't worry about him, Clarabelle. A beautiful kid like that. They love him in Akron. Oh, Blondie, there's so much I want to tell you. Yeah, but maybe you ought to sleep now yourself, huh? Not till I tell you, Blondie. You've got to know about everything. Why I'm staying here in Dr. Kelton's barn. About Joe, my husband. He's in such trouble, Blondie. Come on, Al. Let's go find a grip sack. I know right where it is. Look, Al, this is more like it. Yeah, it's all there. 50,000 bucks. Well, he'd likely say... This is all it counts, a fat swatch of cash. Especially if it's mine. Come on, let's get Blondie and clean out of this barn. You ain't going anywhere with that door, Dutchman. You want to play that again, Blondie? Same song. I said you ain't going anywhere with that door. Now, you tell me what he said, Al. I don't like what him heard. Blondie has mouth the same identical words two times around, Dutchman. And I, for one, get the impression he means it. You didn't tell us the whole story of this, though, and how you came by, Dutchman. Now, listen, Blondie. No, I've been listening. I heard everything you said about this factory payroll job you pulled, and you never did say anything about trusting up the bookkeeper at the factory that night. So what? Not only that, you make it look like it's the inside job and leave the bookkeeper to take the rap. So they got an ale somebody for it. Why are you building such a case for this clock bookkeeper? This clock bookkeeper, Joseph Hatcher, happens to be Clarabel's husband. That's his kid you deliver, Dutchman. No kidding. No kidding. Did Miss Clarabel come tell you all this, Blondie? She told me plenty. This Joseph Hatcher's been cooling in the quink ever since. He was doing a special bookkeeping job for his factory. Came here from Akron to do it. He's the right guy, an honest guy. Or can you understand that, Dutchman? Yeah, Blondie, here's something honest I understand. Yeah, a gun. Easy touch. Shut up, Al. Now look, Blondie, I've been patient with you. I know you're soft at his doll, not your business, but you're interfering with mine, Blondie, and I don't like that. Now let's get out of here with the dough and quick. I said, come on, let's get going. Dutchman, please put the iron away. It is not in keeping with the season to pull a heater on, Blondie. In addition to which the shouting is apt to wake that kid who is a pretty tired character like his mama. Well, you're going soft, Al. What's with you two? Listen, Dutchman, Clarabel's husband don't know she's living in this barn. When she heard they'd sold it away on a bum wrap, she came here to try to help him. And she found out she was going to have a kid and she looked up a dock here, a guy named Kelton. Clarabel's got no dough. Her docked Kelton gives her first-rate care all up to now. He even pictures it so she can stay in his barn. It is not great, but it beats living in a snow bank. Well, stow it, will you? The heater, Dutchman. Hide it, huh? Yeah, yeah, okay, okay. But I'm still running this show, wise guys. And this is what we do. Blondie, here's the grip sack. Take my crate out there and find this docked Kelton character. Pay him off for what he's already done for the doll. Give him some more for taking care of her and a kid from here on in. Then bring the grip sack back here and we'll blow. Are you bet, Dutchman? And you can tell his doctor a couple of things for me. Tell him to get Clarabel and a kid to a hospital where they belong. Sure, Dutchman, sure. Tell him that till now we didn't need no dock, that the Dutchman took care of things perfect and that mama and kid are doing nice. Real nice. For all of you who play canasta or have been thinking of taking up the game, there's a little Christmas gift for you at your nearest signal service station. It's a 12-page booklet on that exciting new version of canasta, Hollywood Three Deck Canasta, which is replacing the old two-deck game practically everywhere it's been tried. In fact, Robert Lee Johnson, the only Pacific Coast member of the National Canasta Laws Commission, says of this game, you'll never know how much fun cards can be until you've played this exciting new three-deck game. It has completely replaced two-deck canasta with all my friends in Hollywood. And friends, the booklet I mentioned is written by the man who devised this new game. So the rules are both complete and authentic. Right now, in fact, this booklet is being sold by leading department stores in 32 states, but you needn't buy a copy. One is waiting for you free while the supply lasts at any signal service station. It is the hope of your signal dealer that this fun-packed new version of canasta will add to the card-playing pleasure of your holidays. It was almost midnight on Christmas Eve at Good Time Charlie's bar on West 49th Street. As Al continued his amazing account of the story of that other Christmas Eve that crossed the lives of Blondie Swanson, Miss Clarabelle Cobb and her newborn son, the Dutchman, and his grip sack containing $50,000. As Al continued talking to Good Time Charlie, a faraway look came into his eye. So you see, Good Time Charlie... It is no more than small wonder that since all this takes place a year ago this very night, me, Blondie, and the Dutchman have settled down to 100% legitimate in depth. Yeah, sure, and why not? A three-way split on almost 50 stolen Jesuses has since begun into this straight and narrow. You are laboring, as they say, under a misapprehension, Good Time Charlie. I see now where it is only fair I tell you the rest of this story. As the Blondie makes the deal with Doc Shelton to get Miss Clarabelle Cobb and her brand new kid out of that bond and into a Class A hospital arrangement, the three of us are once again in the Dutchman's hot rod beating it along the streets of some pint-sized Burg in Pennsylvania, thinking to leave this territory for them as once. You know, maybe age is catching up with me. I ought to feel great right now. We still got nearly 50,000 clams in that grip sack, and somehow I don't feel great at all. You did bring the grip sack back from Doc Kelton's Blondie. Yeah, yeah, sure, I did, Dutchman. The grip sack's in the back seat with Al. Funny. It don't feel good, and it should. Perhaps a touch of rock candy and rye without the rock camp would warm your heart, Dutchman. Oh, maybe so. Pass up the bottle. I am willing to do this, but the bottle will be of small comfort as it is empty. Oh, well, thanks for nothing. Oh, well, just nudge the motor and we'll blow this bird. Get back to native territory. New York ought to look pretty good. Hey, let us slow down, Dutchman. The law is gaining on you. Oh, great. I saw such a night in my life. That red light back there was no Christmas tree on it, meant you should have stopped. Sorry, officer. And you're in a church zone, clearly marked for 20 miles an hour, 40 is too much. Was hurrying home for Christmas, officer? Carrying toys for the kitties in this tub. I'll bet I'd better have a look around. Oh, what's in this grip sack? Oh, I, uh, nothing, officer. It's empty. A grip sack, as you'll ever run into. Yeah. No need to open it. It's empty. Oh, you're right about that, mister. There's nothing there. Yeah. Huh? Easy, Dutchman. But you're sure it's empty? Sure I'm sure, weren't you? Oh, yeah, sure, sure. Sure, I was sure. I just wanted you to be sure. Carrying nothing but empty, huh? You guys empty this bottle all by yourselves? This bottle is once full of medicine, officer. I myself have been more than over-touched with a grip. I am now in the pink as the saying goes. Oh, wise guys, huh? Free wise guys. You know, if it weren't practically Christmas, I'd haul you in. Come on, now get out of our town. Oh, yeah, and Merry Christmas, three wise guys. Yeah, yeah, same to you. Uh, Dutchman, I... You know, Blondie, a while back you accused me of not telling you the whole story of that factory payroll job. Seems to me you forgot to tell me something pretty important, too. What is it about that grip sack being empty of nearly 50 Gs that I ought to know? Well, I figured it'd fill you in, Dutchman. Hey, look, Blondie. Dutchman, it's that same little church. Yeah. Well, yeah. You know something? It's a miracle. I don't know yet what happened to that nearly 50 Gs in the grip sack, but if that copper had caught us with that dough, we'd be on our way to the clink right now. And a stooge observation. Yeah. Well, you see, Dutchman, when I called on Doc Kelkin tonight, I left all the dough with him, the whole 50 Gs. I told him to give it back where it belongs. I told him enough more that the doctor sure he can spring Clarabel's husband out of jail. So him and Clarabel and the new kid could be together. That is, sir. This Doc Kelkin is the right guy. Oh, I'll say he is. He even agreed to give us a head start for the Pennsylvania border before he notifies the law. This is the right guy. Yeah. And we better oblige the Doc and ourselves by making a border ahead of the cops. You know, that copper was right. Three wise guys, he called us. If we wasn't pretty wise, we'd have had all that cash on us when he pulled us over to the curb. I think it's a good idea we stay right on being three wise guys. I'm through stretching my luck. From here on in, I'm going to play it straight. And I'm still running a show, so you two wise guys are going straight with me. OK? OK. Agreed. I wonder how far it is to the border. They've got a lot of funny little birds here in Pennsylvania. What was that one we just left, Blondie? Oh, I saw a signboard back there. That word is known as Bethlehem. And so, on a night before Christmas, in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, three wise guys were strangely touched by the spirit of the season. A spirit born in another Bethlehem. Nearly 2,000 years ago. And tonight, on the eve of another Christmas, may we hope that this same eternal spirit will someday bring to wise guys throughout the world the understanding that the future of the people's averse. Rest in good will toward all men. Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program, the Whistler. Each Sunday night at this same time, signal oil company has asked me to remind you. This week, it's especially important to drive at sensible speed, be courteous, and obey traffic regulations, so some avoidable accident doesn't mar the holiday season for you. Remember what I said at the beginning of the program trend? That you'd find tonight's story unusual and heartwarming? I wasn't I right? I'm sure many of you recognized it as one of the most famous tales. The radio adaptation was by Kathleen Height. Featured in tonight's story were Bill Foreman, John Brown, Marvin Miller, and Jack Moyle. The Whistler was transcribed and directed by George W. Allen with music by Wilbur Hatch, and was transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. The Whistler is entirely fictional, and all characters portrayed on the Whistler are also fictional. Any similarity of names or resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Remember at the same time next Sunday another strange tale by the Whistler, Marvin Miller speaking for the Signal Oil Company.