 And now stay tuned for a program that is 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. Signal, the famous Go Farther gasoline, invites you to sit back and enjoy another strange story by The Whistler. I am 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 Strange Story. Kind Thought. Grant Adamson leaned back in the heavy leather chair behind the broad mahogany desk, set diagonally across the corner of his office, and tried to appear relaxed as he reached for a cigarette, placed it carefully between his lips and flicked a flame from his cigarette lighter. Inside he was trembling, his stomach full of sick fear, and he knew the man sitting across the desk from him could see it. This was no time to let down the bars, though. He looked past Dave Matthew's shoulder, out the window, gazed fondly at the stacks and chimneys that now covered more than an acre of ground. Adamson Chemicals Incorporated, and all of it, right down to the last paper clip on that shiny mahogany desk at stake, hanging on Dave Matthew's decision. I've got to admit, I hardly recognize the old place, Grant. Yes, Dave. Well, there's been quite a change. Oh, that's pretty good mileage. 1946. Adamson Matthews. 16 employees, a one-story building on 23rd Street, making ink eradicator. I go off to Japan with the occupation forces, come back five years later, and quite a corporation. Quite a change is right. Well, I've tried to keep the ball rolling. Yes, it seems at this point that I'm a very wealthy man. Now, listen, Dave, I tried to make it clear. You didn't make anything clear. Well, I'm referring to the settlement I offered you. I've given a lot of thought, Dave, and I think it's only fair that I let you buy me out. No, you can't buy me out, Grant. I'm an equal partner, and that's the way I want it. Well, it's not good sense. Look, Dave, be honest with yourself. You're a small operator. You're all right in a small ink eradicator business, but, uh, why, this is too big for you. It was too big for you, too, wasn't it, Grant? Meaning what? That you're not really a success, a business builder at all. Well, true. You've apparently come a long way in five years. But you did it because you were able to get to a few opportunities as unscrupulous as you are. I'm afraid I don't understand you. You know, you're lucky you've got a partner, Grant. After all, someone's going to have to put this business on an honest basis while you're gone. I'm not going anywhere. You're going to prison, Grant. I'll wait a minute. No, you wait a minute. I didn't just come back, you know. I've been around for five months now putting the pieces together. They make a very interesting picture, Grant. Graff, bribery, phony government contracts, out and out theft. No business built on dishonesty can ever last, Grant. Now listen, Matthews. I'm not through. While you're away, I'm going to try and rectify every dishonest deal you've pulled. Oh, don't look so horrified. You're a grafter. More than that, a plain crook. I've got your signature on a dozen pieces of paper to prove that. No, no, no. Look, Dave, you wouldn't do anything. Don't do me a favor, would you please? For the sake of our old partnership, don't be a whining hypocrite. What do you mean, Dave? What proof? The usual stuff, letters, signed memorandums, a couple of affidavits. A set of canceled checks on that highly profitable Phosgene contract. Oh, I see. Well, Dave, you'll give me time to think this over. Nothing to think over at all. But, uh, partnership... Just forget it. I'm not for sale. I've got the proof of your crooked operations in my little brown briefcase. The items I just mentioned will be in the hands of the investigation board in Washington Wednesday morning. I'm leaving tomorrow afternoon on the five o'clock plane. So that's it, Grant. You've built it from nothing. From a small ground floor operation with 16 employees. You put it together like a magic chemical formula without too much regard for the ingredients. I've discovered that a nation on a semi-war footing doesn't always take time to ask questions. And now it's about to explode in your face, isn't it, Grant? You know that Dave Matthews can't be bought. And that it'll be all over the moment he walks into that boardroom in Washington, D.C. You wish you knew some way to stop him, don't you, Grant? Anyway. Anyway. Any way to stop him. What would you say, Mr. Addinson? Oh, nothing, Miss Williams. I've just got a lot on my mind. I think you need a vacation more than I do. Oh, yes, that's right. You are going away tomorrow, aren't you? I feel a little guilty about it. There's so much to be done. Oh, no, no, no. You've earned it, Miss Williams. I hope so, Mr. Addinson. There's something I wanted to tell you about before I go. Yes? It sounds a little petty, I know, but... Well, there was a little misunderstanding about who was to take my place while I was gone. But that entirely up to you, Miss Williams. I know, but, you see, I suggested Miss Dickens. Oh, she's quite capable, good typist and stenographer. But I forgot all about Miss Preston, Florence Preston. She's been with us so much longer, and she was a little put out when I didn't suggest her. Well, it doesn't matter to me the way, Miss Williams. I'm sure she'll get over it. She's really very nice. I thought perhaps you would say something to her. I mean about how important she is in the job she's doing. She'd feel a lot better. All right, I'll take care of it. I'm sorry to have bothered you, Mr. Adamson, but I'll enjoy the trip much more knowing that you'll sort of smooth things over. Yes. Oh, just a minute, Miss Williams. Where did you tell me you were going? Baltimore. Baltimore? That's near Washington. And you're leaving tomorrow? Yes, I'm awfully thrilled, Mr. Adamson. It'll be the first time I've seen my family in five years. Going by train, Miss Williams? Yes, sir. Hmm, that won't give you much time with them, will it? Not a lot, but a few days will still be wonderful. Um, how would you like to fly? Fly? I couldn't afford that, Mr. Adamson. Is that the only thing that's stopping you, the expense? Well, yes. Miss Williams, I've felt for a long time I should do something for you. You've been very capable, very loyal. But Mr. Adamson... Ah, not another word. I want you to run right down to the railroad office and turn in those train tickets. You're going to fly to Washington, Miss Williams, and from there it's just a step to Baltimore. Why, Mr. Adamson, it's a very kind thought, but I... No, that's enough. Don't thank me, you've earned it. And you'd better hurry now. But what about reservations? Leave that to me. Oh, by the way, you'll be leaving tomorrow afternoon on the five o'clock Washington plane. Hello? Uh, reservation clerk, please. Hello, this is Grand Adamson speaking, Adamson Chemical Company. I want to reserve a seat on the five o'clock flight to Washington tomorrow afternoon. Mm-hmm, that's right. Yes, it's for my secretary. Her name is Williams, Margaret L. Williams. Your kind thought, as Miss Williams expressed it, is something else, isn't it, Grant? It has to do with the fact that Miss Williams' vacation trip coincides exactly with the trip Dave Matthews is taking to Washington, D.C. That you've managed to arrange for them to be on the same plane. And above all, you know now that everything depends on your making sure Dave Matthews never gets there. It's quite late in the afternoon when you stroll into one of the company's chemical laboratories. Well, Mr. Adamson, surprised to see you down here in the plant. Are you, Donald? Well, I guess I'm just the old fireman running to the fire. Say, you know, Donald... Yes, sir? Uh, I'm sick of being a businessman. I get the itch once in a while to get my hands on a test tube. Well, a Bunsen burner. I don't wonder, sir. I think I'd get a little tired of sitting behind a desk, too. Yes. Hey, Donald, why don't you, uh, take the evening off for a change? Well, uh, why, I'd enjoy it, sir. Yes, I'd like to put it around for a few hours. I've got a couple of ideas I want to work out. There's no use in both of us being here. That's nice of you, Mr. Adamson. Oh, uh, the, uh, cabinet's all unlocked. Yes, sir, and the equipment's all out. You sure you don't mind being here alone? Oh, no, I don't mind. Well, go to it then. Help yourself. You're laboratory after all. Thank you, Donald. I will. The minute Donald leaves, you lock the door and set to work, praying that you haven't lost the skill you used to have as a laboratory chemist. Three hours later, you're getting close. Now the distillate. I know that's it. Hundred cc's. Now the gelatin. A little. You stop for a minute now. Waiting for the gelatin to cool and a thick insulating layer above the yellowish liquid in the bottle. A bottle that you pick from the shelf about the size of a cologne bottle. Yes, Grant, you were never more sincere in your life when you told yourself that you'd do anything to prevent David Matthews from getting to Washington on that plane. Nothing else matters to you so long as you stop him. Not even the lives of Matthew, Miss William, the other passengers on the plane. Nothing. So long as you stop him. The gelatin's cool now, Grant. Just the acid on top of it. And your personally constructed time bomb will be ready. Got it. Yes, Mr. Dave Matthews. This will dissolve our partnership in a big way. Spring. When milady spirits need perking up, you know how quickly a new spring bonnet can do the trick. Well, just that quickly there's a way you can perk up your car spirits this spring. How? Why? Simply by changing its diet to Signal Ethel, the premium grade of Signal's famous Go Farther gasoline. Yes, with the very first tank full of Signal Ethel, even tired grumpy motors sound as sweet as the Robin's first song. When you step on the accelerator, you feel Signal Ethel whisk you forward like a sudden spring zephyr. And when you see how effortlessly Signal Ethel's smooth, ping-free power takes you over those steep hills in high, marked my word, you'll get the urge to head your car for the open highway and enjoy spring. Gosh, friend, when it's that easy to get more fun out of every mile you drive, why put it off? This week, for sure, drive into a Signal station, fill up with a super fuel that's scientifically engineered to bring out the best in any car of any age. Signal Ethel, that is. Well, Grant, it's the biggest deal you ever tackled in your life, isn't it? Your plan to kill Dave Matthews to prevent him from exposing your crooked deals in Washington, deals that can send you to prison. As you lie in bed that night, thinking it through again, you tell yourself that it's a gamble. A bomb in an airplane is a fantastic idea. And unless everything goes off exactly on schedule, it might fail. But the moral aspects surrounding the wholesale murder of the other passengers on the plane with a time bomb doesn't stop you for a second. Because that's just the kind of a mind you have, isn't it, Grant? You've never been concerned with rightness or wrongness, only with the surest, quickest way of getting what you want. And you've made up your mind now that Dave Matthews will never reach Washington with that briefcase and the incriminating evidence against you. It's earlier than usual when you arrive at your office the next morning. Good morning, Mr. Adamson. Oh, hello, Miss... Dickens, sir. Oh, yes, Miss Dickens. Miss Williams told me about your taking her place yesterday afternoon. She's awfully thrilled over your sending her by plane. We had a party last night. She told us all about it. Really? I'm glad. She's pleased. Well, let's see now. We don't want any disappointments. Did the airline people confirm the reservation? Yes, sir. They called a half hour ago. The five o'clock flight this afternoon. Good. I wonder who's seeing her off. Call her for me, will you? Yes, sir. Hello, Miss Williams. This is Mr. Adamson. Well, I'm very happy. I call to tell you your reservation is made on the five o'clock plane. That's right. How are you getting down to the airport? The taxi. Oh, that's nonsense. No, no, no. I'll take you down myself. No trouble at all. Now that's enough, Miss Williams. I won't hear of it. I'll pick you up at four this afternoon. That's right. Goodbye, Miss Williams. There you are, sir. We can give you either the clone or the perfume. I'll take the clone. Are you sure this is the largest bottle you have? Yes, sir. I'm sure she'll be quite happy with it. Yes, I suppose she will. All right. And I'd like it gift-wrapped. You know, lots of ribbons, fancy stuff. Do you have a wrapping department here? Yes, sir. You can take it over yourself. Counter nine. Thank you. I will. But before you get to counter nine, step into a telephone booth. Take off the tissue paper wrapping and the bottle of cologne. Wrap it around the other bottle you've been carrying in your overcoat pocket. The wrapping clerk doesn't give it a second glance. Five minutes later, it's done up in fancy ribbons and colored paper. A going-away present for Peggy Williams. An extra thoughtful little touch from a kind and generous employer. You glance at your watch, quarter to four. In a half hour, you'll be on your way to the airport. I'm awfully sorry to be taking you from your work, Mr. Adamson. I know how busy you are. Forget it, Miss Williams. Oh, by the way, here's a little something I picked up this afternoon. It's quite an occasion, you know. Oh, Mr. Adamson. It's just a little cologne. Cologne? A little? Oh, Mr. Adamson, this is too much. It isn't right. All right, Miss Williams. So it isn't right. I just think it is. Shall we let it go at that? Mr. Adamson, I don't deserve all this. Of course you do. Now, you just enjoy your trip, have fun, and don't you dare open that pretty package until your parents can see it. Oh, I won't. I wouldn't think of it. But you've been so perfect, Mr. Adamson, that I... Well, Miss...Peggy? Oh, really? I had no idea. Don't be angry with me, Mr. Adamson. I shouldn't have kissed you. I know. Well, I'm awfully sentimental. Oh, that's quite all right, Peggy. In fact, I...I'm awfully sorry that you're going away for such a long time. It's such a beautiful package. What kind of cologne is it? Well, I don't know. I forget what it's called, but don't you open it till you get home. Oh, I won't. That's a promise. Yes, Grant, you're seeing Peggy Williams off on a long trip, a very long trip with your old partner, Dave Mackers. As the two of you walk into the terminal, you see that Dave has already arrived, sitting with his back towards you, reading the paper. Seeing him removes the last twinge of conscience you have regarding Peggy Williams and the other passengers. You glance again at the ribbon package in Peggy Williams' right hand, knowing that it won't be much longer before the insulating layer of gelatin dissolves. Results in a stunning explosion. Two hours if your calculations were correct, somewhere between 6.15 and 6.30 is the plane passes into Arizona. You walk up to the ticket counter to check with a clerk. Five o'clock eastbound? Yes. I'm sorry, sir, that flight's going to be a little late getting off. What'd you say? The five o'clock flight will be late. Well, how late? Well, we're trying to arrange a six o'clock takeoff. I'm not sure yet, though. It's all right, Mr. Adamson. You don't have to wait, will you? Yes, but I do, Peggy. You see, I want to be sure that you get off all right. Clerk, you said six o'clock? I hope so, sir. Yes, so do I. You spend almost an hour with Peggy in the terminal cocktail lounge, running out to the lobby every five minutes to make certain Dave Mathews is waiting for the takeoff and to check with the clerk about takeoff time, knowing that now the time is getting close that perhaps the thing to do is to grab the package from Peggy's lap and rush out with it, throw it in a vacant field somewhere, but there's still a chance, Grant. You've still the better part of a half an hour, and you're still a gambler. Then, at five minutes to six, you check with the clerk and find the plane is taking off in a few minutes. On your way back to the lounge, you decide that despite what the clerk said, there might be further delay, a dangerous delay, that you've got to get the package back from Peggy. When you return to your table, Peggy isn't there. Now, where is she? Waiter. Waiter, where did the lady go the one I was sitting? She'll be right back, sir. She went out to the check stand, wanted to check the packages that she was carrying. Said she didn't know how long she'd have to wait and she was tired of carrying them. She checked her packages? So mad, sir. Something wrong? Flight 21, eastbound, now loading at gate three. Wait a minute. Flight 21, eastbound, now loading at gate three. Wrong, Waiter. No, no. Nothing wrong at all. Mr. Adamson. Oh, oh, there you are, Peggy. Well, guess what, Mr. Adamson? There's an old friend of yours making the trip. An old friend? Mr. Matthews, I didn't remember him, but he knew me. Oh. Oh, yes, I forgot to mention it, too. He was your partner when you first started out, wasn't he? Dave Matthews? Yes, yes. Oh, did you, uh, did you tell him I was here? He said he's sorry he won't be able to see you. There isn't much time. And he went on board to get his seats together. Oh, I see. Well, that's nice of Dave to do that. But, uh, if they're leaving soon, hadn't you better get on the plane? Yes. I just wanted to thank you again, Mr. Adamson. No one's ever done so many nice things for me. Now, please, Peggy, you mustn't hold them up. Oh, wait a minute. Where's the bottle of cologne I gave you? You didn't forget it. You didn't leave it at the check stand. No, Mr. Adamson. Mr. Matthews took it aboard for me. Oh, well, that's fine. Last call. Eastbound, flight 21. Oh, that's you. Loading at 8-3. Peggy, you're holding them up. Last call. You better get out there. I'll hurry. Goodbye, Mr. Adamson. I'll write to you. Yes, you do that, of course. I'll run along. Mr. Adamson, you won't be angry at me for anything. I know you enjoy doing nice things for people, and win a girl. What are you talking about, Peggy? Oh, you mean about kissing me, of course. I won't be angry. Well, it isn't just that. Please, now, you're making me nervous. Will you get on that plane and let them take all that? All right. And don't forget to tell Florence Preston, I'm sorry. I didn't suggest you to fill in for me while I'm away. Yes, of course, Peggy. I will, now. Yes, I'll go. Yes. Goodbye, Mr. Adamson. Goodbye. I'll think of you all the way. You're the kindest, sweetest man I've ever known. Spring or no spring, you wouldn't feel nearly as peppy. Would you if you had to keep right on wearing heavy winter clothes? Well, that's just how your car feels about running on tired, all winter motor oil and gear lube now that spring is here. So if you want to put spring into your driving, it's high time you were treating your car to a spring changeover at a signal service station. First step is to drain your motor and refill with signal premium, the new heavy-duty type oil that reduces engine wear due to lubrication, 50%. Next step is fresh signal gear lube for transmission and differential, and a signal double-check lubrication for the chassis. At the same time, your signal dealer will be glad to check those other points that need attention every 5 or 10,000 miles, such as front wheel bearings, oil filter or air cleaner. Say a car just can't help feeling peppy or after a spring tonic like this. So for extra driving pleasure all summer, see your signal dealer this week for a signal spring changeover. Well, Grant, at long last Peggy's on the plane happily seated next to Dave Matthews. That's interesting, isn't it, Grant? Like a chemistry equation, each element balancing the other. Dave on one side with an important briefcase, Peggy on the other with an even more important bottle. The tension is worse than ever now as you stand at the edge of the parking lot, watching the plane taxiing to the runway. You'll feel a lot better after the plane gets into the air when you're sure the unexplained explosion will take place somewhere above 5,000 feet and not on the ground where prying investigators might uncover the answer. You've glanced at your watch, 6.15. It should only be a matter of 15 or 20 minutes now. The plane finally turns around in a half circle into the wind. The pilot guns the engines for a few seconds and then the plane rushes down the runway towards you. They're off, Grant. And you're certain you've won. Yes, sir? Oh, the blue Cadillac in the second line. Here's my ticket. Yes, sir. I'll bring it around for you. As you drive out of the parking lot, you find yourself wondering how far away you'll be when the explosion occurs and then realize that by now the plane carrying Dave Matthews and his evidence against you probably been blown to bits. It won't hurt to take the long way home. You have all the time in the world now. You turn off the busy highway and onto a quiet country road. Too bad about Peggy, wasn't it? You'll have to think of something nice to say about her when the news breaks. She was so thoughtful, so innocent as she sat there beside you this afternoon when you gave her the cologne bottle. You drive idly along the open road for about 10 minutes and then glance over at the empty seat where something catches your eye. Oh, sir. A note, pinned to the seat. Dear Mr. Adamson, I didn't want to ask you about this because I thought it might hurt your feelings. I know you enjoy giving things and want people to receive them to enjoy them too. Please don't be angry, but I'm still worried about having her Florence Preston's feelings. When you speak to her, would you give her the bottle of cologne? I fibbed a little when I said Mr. Matthews took it aboard the plane because I wanted Florence to have it. I put the bottle in the glove compartment of your car. Wait a minute. No! No! Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program The Whistler each Sunday night at the same time. Signal Oil Company has asked me to remind you this week is Public Schools Week and you are invited to visit your community schools. Your interest and support of public education are the best guarantee of a sound public school system. Featured in tonight's story were Bill Foreman, Joseph Kearns, Marty Margett, Nancy Cleveland and Herbert Litton. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen with story by Joel Malone, 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 to tune in at the same time next Sunday when the Signal Oil Company will bring you another strange story by The Whistler. Marvin Miller speaking for the Signal Oil Company. Stay tuned now for our Miss Brooks starring Eve Arden, which follows immediately over most of these stations. This is CBS Broadcasting System.