 Listen to Herbert Marshall as the man called X. Wherever there is mystery, adventure in three. In all the strange and dangerous places of the world, there you will find the man called X. An ancient truck lurches slowly along a rough muddy road somewhere in the jungles of Malaya. The driver keeps glancing warily at the masses of steaming vegetation on either side. And perhaps that is why he doesn't notice the rounded bit of brass buried in the road ahead. Hello, Chief. Okay. You're still in Shanghai? That's right. Sorry, Chief. I'm going to Kuala Lumpur. What? Padang Nipah is dead. No, landmine. Murder. Sure. Time. That's right. Not when they'd eat that epidemic for propaganda purposes. Not when they can accuse the British and the Americans of using biological warfare against them. Yeah. Try to stop them. Hello? Got any other ideas, Chief? Welcome to Kuala Lumpur. Hello, Pagan. Pretty small world, eh, Mr. X? Yeah, that's right. Ha-ha. Bet you're plenty surprised to find me here all right, eh? Why should I be? I sent you a while to meet me here. You did? That's right, you did. Yeah. What have you found out for me? Well, uh, don't look now, Mr. X. But look over there and you'll see a taxi cab. Tell the driver, Pagan sent you. Then what? He'll take you to a joker who can give you all the information you want about who is stealing medicine and how and stuff. Ha-ha. For a slight consideration, of course. Okay, I'll try it. Hmm? Weep with the bar hotel in two hours. Ha-ha. You bet, Mr. Thurston. I'll be there, Germany on the spot. A wish, a number one taxi, Mr. X. That depends on whether you know where to take me. Oh, Chen Yong, no all Kuala Lumpur. You take on about Mr. Anywhere. Where you wish to go? I suppose I'll leave that up to you. To Chen Yong? That's Pagan's suggestion. Ah-ha-ha. To, to. Honourable Mr. Zell Smith. Yes, yes. Well, Chen Yong take Mr. Where he wish to go. Yes. Uh, please allow Chen Yong to assist you. Mr. X. Hold sound. It'll be your last. Understand? Sir, I am John Nipah, Mr. Thurston. John Nipah? Tarang Son? Yes, that is right. What are you doing aboard this sandpan? Your friend, Sam Smith. He saw Chen Yong strike you down. He followed you here, then told me about it. I didn't expect to find you free. I just got rid of the ropes before you came in. Now, let's get out of here before Chen Yong comes back. So Chen Yong is one of the guerrilla leaders? It is so, Mr. Thurston. He controls the territory to the north of Sai Wing, my father's village. Could it be dangerous for him to visit Kuala Lumpur unless the stakes were large enough? Eventual control of Malaya, it's quite a large stake, Mr. Thurston. And the color of the epidemic is made to order for those like Chen Yong. Yeah, that biological warfare gag is a pretty strong propaganda. The villagers swallowing it? My honorable father could prevent that as long as he was alive, but no. Yeah. Where have you been getting your medicines? We have been buying them from Mr. Stanley Thompson. Thompson? An importer of medical supplies. A wonderful friend of our people. Even if we have no money to purchase, we still receive the medicines. Good. Take me to Stanley Thompson. What are you going to do, Mr. Thurston? Deliver a supply of medicine to the hospital at Sai Wing. By yourself? Why not? But that will only give the guerrillas another opportunity to destroy a shipment and to kill you as they did my father. You know something, John? You may be right. I must say that is quite an order you've given us, Mr. Thurston. Quite an order. One that I almost think it was for a hospital rather than an individual purchaser. It is for a hospital, Mr. Thompson. The one at Sai Wing. At Sai Wing? Oh, I assure you, you must be joking, sir. Why? There's a cholera epidemic, isn't there? Well, yes, of course, but the risks involved. The danger. At least wait until you see what success Dr. Timbliffe has. Dr. Timbliffe? Oh, yes, the head of the hospital at Sai Wing, but just a moment, Mr. Thurston. I'll get the doctor for you. Dr. Timbliffe, would you mind coming in here for a moment, please? What is it, Mr. Thompson? There's a gentleman here, Mr. Thurston. He's also ordering supplies for the hospital. Ordering supplies? What right does he order supplies for? May I ask what your interest is in our hospital, Mr. Thurston? Maybe I just don't like cholera epidemics, Dr. Timbliffe. I understand you need those supplies pretty badly up there. Exactly. If you wish to help, cancel that order and allow me to see that the supplies get through. From what I hear, you haven't been too successful so far. You will not be either, Mr. Thurston, if one is to judge by the company you keep. What's that supposed to mean? I refer to John Nepa. What about him? He's an idealistic fool, as his father was before him. What would you have had them do? Turn their country over to the guerrillas? Why not? What difference does it make what kind of government rules the land? Communist, fascist, democratic. They're all the same. People die from disease under all of them. They can die in concentration camps, too. Only if they are fools and concern themselves with things that are none of their affair. Like freedom? Or medical supplies. Do not make a similar mistake, Mr. Thurston. One can also die from other things in sigh-wing. Besides color. We'll return to the man called X in just a moment. Friends, unless we start preparing now, in a few years our public schools will be as behind the times as the Little Red Schoolhouse. Because of the huge increase in our birth rate during and after the last war, it's estimated that by 1956 there will be some 7 million more children in elementary schools than there are now. We must start preparing at once. More equipment will be needed, textbooks, playgrounds, and above all, more elementary school teachers. To help assure your child of proper education, join and work with local groups and school boards. And for free information about how people in other communities are improving their schools right to this address. National Citizens' Commission for the Public Schools to West 45th Street, New York 19, New York. Act two of the man called X starring Herbert Marshall with Leon Balasko as Pagan Zelchman. Using a cholera epidemic as the springboard for propaganda about biological warfare, guerrilla bands and the Malayan jungles have been seizing medical supplies intended for the disease-ridden villages of the interior. And now Ken Thurston has arranged to take a shipment of medical supplies into the village of sigh-wing. Why don't we go back to Kuala Lumpur? After all, once you've seen one hunk of a jungle, you've seen it all. And once you've seen a man dying of cholera, Pagan, you never want to see it again. Yeah, but I don't want to see myself dying, neither, Mr. X. We can't get nothing if that Cheng Jiang knocks us off with boobies and traps and things. And I'll give you eight to five. He's waiting for us somewhere in this jungle right now. I'll let you in on a little secret, Pagan. That's one bet I think you'll win. Okay, Pagan, jump. Ah, so, so, that is good, good. Take them to our headquarters at Ratha and the white men who ran into the jungle as we opened fire. I have no concern, but they will be available when we want them for their execution. First I get all shot at. Now I'm stuck in the jungle a couple of million miles from nowhere. My uncle Ahmed warned me there would be days like this with you. Oh, sure, Pagan. Not as bad as it seems. Oh, sure, sure not. Suppose all of a sudden the jungle will come to an end and somebody will come driving along the road to give us a pick-me-up and a... Hey, we did find a road. That's right, and there's that lift you were talking about. Mr. X, it's the Janipa and somebody coming this way in a couple of horses and bogies. No, we're okay, John. We heard the shooting as we were en route, Mr. Tastin. Rarely you had us quite worried. Well, thanks for the solicitude, Thompson. What are you doing out here? Well, naturally, I could hardly have helped learning of your plans. Your rendezvous here with the young Mr. Nipa. And in as much as I feel a rather well-personed interest in the medical supplies, I dissuade it into allowing me to come along. Plans, rendezvous. That's simple enough, Pagan. I asked John to take this plantation motor-sci wing with the medicines while we played decoy for Chen Yong. You mean there wasn't any medicine on board the truck we would drive it? Right. John's got him hidden away in his cart. Now we're going to take the supplies into the hospital at Tai Wing. And what of Mr. Thompson and me? Do you wish us to accompany you there also? No, you brought saddle horses along right back to Kuala Lumpur. Get in touch with the authorities. Tell them the guerrilla headquarters are in the village of Rasa. They'll know what to do. Rasa? You seem a little startled, Thompson. Why? Well, no reason, actually, except that, well, if you are right, it might mean the end of a good deal of the trouble out here. Yes, Mr. Thompson. Thanks to Mr. Thurston, it would seem the end is at hand. Wait for me here, Pagan. I'll go to the hospital and check. What a joker. Where could I go on a dump like Sai Wing? Going in Sai Wing, Mr. Thurston. I'm afraid I didn't take your advice very seriously back in Kuala Lumpur, Doctor. You mean you brought medical supplies? That's right. You fool. That's hardly the reaction I expected. I am attempting to operate a hospital, Mr. Thurston. We are faced with a raging epidemic. It is my duty to my patients to obtain the drugs necessary to cure them, wherever those drugs are obtainable. Yeah. So you make a deal with the guerrillas. They give you the medicines you want, and in return you let them take what they want. Your patients, the village of Sai Wing, all of Malaya. Why not? I have no enemies, but disease. Sure. Lock yourself in your ivory tower. Refuse to admit what's going on in the world. But someday it's going to catch up with you. It would seem to have already caught up with you, Mr. Thurston. Well, Chen Yong. So you decided to take over Sai Wing instead of returning to Rasa. Yes, Mr. Thurston. Nothing can prevent us from attaining our goal. After the failure of your infantile attempts to obtain military assistance should talk to you. What's that supposed to mean? Your friends, John Nepa and Stanley Thompson have already been apprehended by my men. As soon as they arrive here, we shall see that certain long delayed executions are no longer delayed. I cannot tell you how sorry I am, Mr. Thurston. I feel as though I've let you down somehow. As though... You would remain still and quiet, Mr. Thompson. I could treat this leg of yours with less pain. She's right, Thompson. Take it easy. You've got nothing to reproach yourself for. Yes, but I feel what I have, sir. I couldn't do much during the last war. Home guard, you know. Lost a son, the RAF. It's without here, but I thought I might help a bit. My medicines. Delivering your message to the military in on. Well, I guess I've just... I've just flubbed it. No, Thompson. You haven't flubbed anything. Sure, that's right, Mr. Thompson. So maybe me and Mr. Thurston are all tied up here and cling that Cheng Yang can't do anything to us, but... But shoot us. All I can do now, Mr. Thompson, there is a bare possibility that I can save your leg. I'd require a good deal of treatment. I regret the interruption, doctor. But it's time for one of the prisoners to stand trial on charges of prison. Not wasting any time, are you, Cheng Yang? Oh, do not be alarmed, Mr. Thurston. It is Mr. Thompson who you're after now. Thompson? There's nothing too low for your kind, is there? But that is impossible. The man is sick. He is in no condition to stand trial now. Unfortunately, my dear doctor, we have already convened the court. Our time is too valuable to waste. Take him along. Stop! I forbid it! This man is a patient of mine. I will not allow you to remove him from here in his present condition. I give thee all this, doctor. Please, I don't mind, doctor. I didn't do what they want. There's nothing to fear, really. Out as long as you can stand up and face the enemy, recognize him for what he is. It sounds a bit mixed up and foolish, I guess, but... Oh, goodbye, Mr. Thurston. Mr. Selstin. Doctor. Goodbye, Mr. Thompson. Take him away! They took him. My patient. They promised they would not interfere with my hospital, but they...they took him. Mr. Thurston. What price ivory towers now, doctor? I cannot make amends, Mr. Thurston. Perhaps in some small way. It may help. If you will hold out your hand, I will cut the ropes. Purchase paper. The armored jeep the doctor told us about. So what? There's a guard alongside. We can't get through it. Nothing like trying. Come on. Let's go aboard. Stop, eh, Mr. Hex? Nothing like riding back to Kuala Lumpur in Comfort, I always say. We haven't reached Kuala yet. For sure. But from now on, there is nothing but easy sailing. You seem pretty sure about that, John. John? Mr. Hex, it's John Nepa. But why is he standing in those bushes pointing the gun at us? Because he's one of Chen Yong's finest assistants. And dirtiest spies. Assistants? Spies? But...but...but... I will pray for a pudding at another rate, Mr. Thurston. There we go again. But don't make no sense, Mr. Hex. He was helping us and his father, Padang Nepa... but it might be of benefit to the state. My father was a traitor to his people. Oh, sure. He sold them off by devoting his life to their welfare. Betrayed them by trying to bring them food, medicine, peace. All that is the reality. Yes. Like that gun you're holding. All those planes flying overhead. Plains. That's right, John. British planes. Contacted by this jeep's radio. They're carrying twin cargoes to Sai Wings, soldiers to take care of Chen Yong and his men. And medicines for the cholera. If you want realities, John, take a good look at them. Put your head down, Pagong. Hey, what happened to John Nepa? Let's take a look. He's unconscious. He'll live to face trial in Kuala. Well, I guess that winds things up, Mr. Hex. It doesn't wind anything up, Pagong. Why not? We took care of him and Chen Yong. There'll be no more cholera inside Wings. Not the cholera I'm talking about. It's another disease. The disease that infected John Nepa, Chen Yong, a lot of others. We've got to find a cure for it, Pagong. Before it destroys the world. And now here is our star, Mr. Herbert Marshall. Thanks for being with us. And my thanks to Gene Tatum, Will Wright, Howard McNair, Robert Boone, and Tony Barrett. Next week, the Desert of Death in Afghanistan, where Ken Thurston runs into one of the most vicious characters he's ever known. Quite a part of this from Leon Bolasco who'll be along with Pagong Zelschmidt. So join us, won't you, when next I return as the man called X. Good night. Called X, starring Herbert Marshall is a J. Richard Kennedy production with music by Milton Charles. The story is written by Sidney Marshall. This program is directed by Jack Johnstone. All characters and incidents on this program are fictitious. And any resemblance to actual characters or incidents is purely coincidental. And now until next week, same time and station, this is Hal Gibney saying good night for the man called X. This is NBC, the national broadcasting company.