 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. The famous Go Farther gasoline invites you to sit back and enjoy another strange story by The Whistler. I'm The Whistler, and I know many things before 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's strange story. Borrowed byline. The trip from Calcutta to Hong Kong had been hot and dulled. And Craig McKelvie was glad when the slackening of the ship's engines told him they were moving through Lyeemun Pass into Hong Kong Rose. At the railing outside his stateroom door, he could see the lights of Victoria rising from the jam-packed Esplanade to the luxurious villas high up on the peak, and off to the starboard other lights, marking Kowloon Point on the mainland. He was glad now that he'd taken the bulb of the horns and come here. Calcutta was a fine place for a year, even two, but six years had been too much. And when the opportunity for some quick money had come, he decided to take it and come to Hong Kong. Orders are no order. Five minutes after the gangplank had been lowered to the dock, there was a knock at his stateroom door. Craig McKelvie smiled as he turned open. Cylendrum hadn't changed a bit, still as prompt as ever. Well, Alphonse Cylendrum. Good evening, McKelvie. Nice to see you again. Yes, indeed. Oh, have a chair. Thank you. Let me fix you a drink, Cylendrum. Scotch and splash. You're very kind. Oh, on the contrary, I'm very practical. You always discuss business better over a drink, and I know the wire you sent me had a deal in it somewhere. I thought I made that clear. You're never very clear, Cylendrum, particularly where money's involved. And what makes you think there's money involved, my friend? You don't think I'd jump my job and take a long boat ride to renew an old acquaintance to him? Wait a moment. Jump your job? Well, not exactly, but my editor in London... Oh, Mr. Ames. All right, Mr. Ames fails to realize that at times a roving correspondent has to row. You might take a dim view of my sudden departure from Calcutta. I hope not. Huh? You see, McKelvey, your excellent standing with your newspaper in London is exactly the reason I wired you to come here. Here's your drink. Thanks. Your health, my friend. Ah. Excellent, Scotch, McKelvey. Excellent. You can thank the purser. I won it from him last night in a car game. Now, what are you saying about my job? I think perhaps we better discuss mine first. I've established a new connection, McKelvey. I see. Representing a British importing firm. Sounds honest. It is. Huh, strange alphonse. I've never known you. Ah, da-da-da-da-da. My past is a closed book, something to be forgotten. There's much to be done here, McKelvey. New worlds to conquer. The right man, the right set of circumstances. And the wealth of the Orient is here for the taking. Oh, tell me, my friend, how much do you know of natural history? Why? Do you know, for example, that on the slopes of the mountains to the west, there lives a species of deer, a small, hornless animal, unimpressive as a trophy, but worthy of the most skillful hunter who ever held a rifle? If you don't mind, old man. I'd be obscure again to make a long story short, McKelvey. This little animal is the source of one of the most precious materials in the world. A substance for which there is an almost hysterical demand at this very moment. Well, go on, what is it? Musk. Musk? An essential ingredient of the finest perfumes. What little there is is in great demand on today's market. That's all very interesting, but where do I come in? I'm coming to that. It seems there is a persistent rumor that a fabulous amount of purest Tibetan musk is floating around East Asia somewhere. My firm is most anxious to locate it. So anxious, in fact, that they've retained me for the past eight months solely to conduct the search. And that, McKelvey, is where you've come in. Oh, isn't it? A simple dispatch in your very reliable newspaper, indicating I have discovered the musk, would simplify my problem immeasurably. I'm still a lap or two behind. I know I can be frank with you, my friend. From the moment I accepted this proposition, my problem has been to persuade my superiors in London to advance funds to cover the purchase. Needless to say, my firm in London tends to be cautious, since the transaction will come to over a quarter million American dollars. Then you have found the musk? Oh, no. Yet you want me to file that story? Oh, come on, McKelvey. You haven't developed any moral compunctions after all these years? No, just being practical again, Alphonse. You'd never get away with it, you know. In the first place, they'd never send the funds without checking. In the second place, the idea of picking off a quarter million dollars and disappearing is simply fantastic. You underestimate me, my friend. After all, I haven't been at work on this for eight months for nothing. So all you need is a story over my signature and they'll jump. They do anything to close fast, prevent competitive bidding. You see, you realize, of course, that this kind of a sellout would finish me as a foreign correspondent. It should be well worth your while. How much? 25,000 American dollars. You underestimate me, Alphonse. Make it 50,000. It's a lot of money for a story. You're buying a career. Excuse me. Yes? Caprogram, sir? No, man. Here you are. Thank you, sir. Hold for arrival. Consider your impromptu departure from Calcutta inexcusable. Your services with this paper terminated immediately. Frank Parkesley has requested temporary transfer to Hong Kong, instructing him to replace you on arrival. Ames. Anything interesting in your cable grab? Oh, nothing much. It was from Ames. Just another raise. That's very fortunate. Your reputation with your paper must remain unimpeachable, until the story is filed. I realize that. Now, how about the price? 50,000 it is. Good. When do I file it? When I prepare the way in London. We must be cautious now. Can't afford to be seen together. I suppose I meet you tomorrow night at nine at the Twin Dragon Bar. Right. Well, Alphonse, here's to the story. Yes, my friend. Do your story. The high compression engines of many of today's newer cars are designed to perform best on a premium quality gasoline such as Signal Ethel. But if you're nursing along an older model, you may think Ethel gasoline wouldn't make any difference in your car. Well, if you'd see some of the vintage models that fill up at the Signal Ethel pump and hear the enthusiasm of their owners, you'd change your mind. For instance, a chap who lives up in a hilly section was relating, you should see some cars struggle when they try to pull my hill. But with Signal Ethel, my 41 model walks right up in high. Another driver of a 46 model remark, on cold mornings, I hear some of my friends complaining about hard starting. But with Signal Ethel, my car starts quick as a rabbit. Yes, folks, say mighty nice things about Signal Ethel, because this premium grade of Signal's famous go farther gasoline is engineered to bring out the best in any car of any age. So if you're not getting the fun out of driving you used to, why not try this little experiment? Do as new car buyers do. Treat yours to a tank full of Signal Ethel. See if you don't feel the difference, a wonderful difference in Signal Ethel. It's strange, isn't it, Craig? At the very moment it became clear that your position with the paper in London meant everything to you, with Alphonse Cylendrum sitting there in your state were ready to pay you $50,000 for that false dispatch. The crushing wire from Ames discharging you arrived to change it all. You realized, of course, that Cylendrum must never know about, and even as you tore up your editor's message discharging you and turned to Cylendrum, you were trying frantically to think of some way the story could be filed and published the following day in London. Cylendrum's gone now, and you sit alone in your stateroom for a long time thinking. You remember that no one knows you in Hong Kong, aside for the time being it has to stay that way. A few minutes after leaving the ship, you check in at a nondescript waterfront hotel. You've never been one to apologize, Craig, but this time it's got to be. You hurry down to the cable office, scribble the message out and hand it to the clerk. Let me see now. Timothy Ames Fleet Street. Can't believe you're serious. Came here on tip-underground movement very active in southern China. No, you will allow me time for full report. McKelvie. Yes. Mr. McKelvie. Yes, speaking. We have received a cable for you from London. Oh, would you please read it? Repeat, you are relievedly arriving Hong Kong SS Malaya soonest. Ames. I see. Any answer? No, no answer. But at that moment, Craig, as you hang up the receiver, there has to be an answer. That the story must be filed somehow, even if you have to use Frank Parxley's name, that with $50,000 involved, nothing is going to stop you. You call the Porter's desk. Porter's desk. When is the steamship Malaya doing? Malaya Sunday night. Thanks. And Sunday night is uppermost in your mind as you sit with Selendrum later that evening in a dark booth at the Twin Dragons. Going over the text of the story, you know you'll have to file under Frank Parxley's byline. You've got that straight, McKelvie. Negotiations are underway. Mind you, nothing more. We must not imply the deal is anywhere near closed. Of course. They must be a competition, you see. Rival offers higher bids. I see. When does it go? Tonight. Tonight, huh? Yes, we can move fast now. Everything's in readiness. Aren't you being a little hasty? Why do you say that? Oh, it's very simple. The heaviest advertising days are at the end of the week. Our story might end up on the press room floor. Then what do you suggest? Sunday night. We can't miss if we aim for Monday's late edition. Well, I hate to wait now. You've got to wait if you want to be sure. Well, all right, McKelvie, I'll leave it up to you. Sunday night. Yes, Craig. It has to be the night Parxley will arrive on the Malaya. Because your mind is made up, isn't it? On Sunday night, you're going to check out of the hotel Oriental as Craig McKelvie. You're going to move into higher circles in the Victoria as Frank Parxley. In between the two, there'll be a murder. Sunday night finds you at the dock waiting, looking up at the sleek side of the passenger vessel it just pulled in, the SS Malaya. You breathe a sigh of relief when you see Parxley, the linen suit, the thin, rangy figure, the same Frank Parxley you saw in Singapore years ago. Hello, Parxley. Huh? You don't remember me. I'm McKelvie. Oh, yes, McKelvie, of course. I'm sorry. No, we only met once. Yes, London, wasn't it? Singapore. That's all right. I wouldn't have remembered you if I hadn't been told you were coming. Oh, well, then they did inform you that I... Yes, they sent me a cable. I'm sorry, old man. I've been trying desperately to get out of Burma, but it hasn't anything to do with displacing anyone. Oh, I know. That's my own doing. And Ames, he agrees that I'm a bum. Well, I wouldn't worry about it. We all have at least one editor who can't stand this. Sure. Look, I hired a car. I'll drive you up to the hotel. Well, that's space boarding, are you, McKelvie? However, there's been a delay in getting my baggage off, and I'm afraid... Oh, they'll send it up for you? I don't mind. I'd rather wait. That past experience, you know? Somewhere in the Orient, there's a typewriter, three suits, and six pair of my best agiles. I know what you mean. So, we wait? Yes, if you don't mind. I insist. You don't know Hong Kong, Parkesley. But it's like the baggage. A man can get lost here. I was a little surprised when they named you as my replacement, Parkesley. What struck you to want to leave Burma? Oh, well, at the moment, I think there's more opportunity for me here. Oh, really? Yes. I say, isn't this the road to the hotel? Well, it's a roundabout one, but I thought you might get a kick out of seeing the bay. Well, it's a... Well, yeah, it's pretty all right. Yeah, it's quite a view spot up ahead. A friend of mine drove me out to it the first time I was here. Oh. Ah, here we are, just around this curve. Yes, I say, you're right. It takes in the whole shoreline, doesn't it? Yeah. Actually, we're not up very high. Just the way the island jets out here. Well, not many people could know this spot. It wouldn't be so deserted. I'll have to remember it, McKelvie. You listen as Frank Parkesley prattles on about the view. He's right, isn't he, Craig? Not many people know this spot. You're thinking that as Parkesley turns his head, looks away from you in the direction of the bay. Your hand moves down and tightens around the handle of a heavy wrench at your side. Oh, the lights over there, McKelvie. Glittering like the gold we mortals are always after, hm? Have you ever thought of them that... The drive back to town gives you your first chance to reel it at down since meeting Frank Parkesley. It's over now, Craig. You did it. Killed Parkesley and sent his body heavily weighted with stones over the side of the cliff and splashing into the waters of the bay. You're glad now that he insisted on waiting for his luggage. You have a use for it, haven't you? Yes, at Parkesley's hotel. But not before you return the rented car and pretend to a few things at your own hotel. Oh, you leave Mr. McKelvie? Yes, checking out, Sam. I'm getting passage on the Malaya. Here's the Hotel Victoria, Mr. All right. Here you go. Well, thank you. All right. Yes, sir? I wired for reservation. My name is Parkesley. Oh, yes, I remember. If you'd just signed this car, Mr. Parkesley. Very well. And it's room number 402. Here's the key. The boy will take your bags. Fine. All right, Sonny, let's go. Well, if it isn't my good friend. Solandrum? Yes, indeed, my dear man. You go on ahead, boy. I'll be right up. You said yourself we shouldn't be seen together. I'm not here, not here. I'm in room 402. If there's anything to talk about, wait about a half hour and then meet me there. As you wish, my friend. Room 402. Hello. Hello. Yes, sir? Operator, I was talking to the cable office. Could you reconnect me? I was filing a dispatch for my paper. Oh, sorry. One moment. I'll get them again. Give me Mr. Parkesley. I'll give it here from the beginning again. Hong Kong, August 17th. The reports indicate certain Alphonse Solandrum, agent for a London importing firm negotiating for purchase of largest quantity Tibetan musk ever involved in single transaction. Solandrum. A few minutes later and it's over, isn't it, Craig? You hang up the phone, sit back and breathe a sigh of relief. You worked fast, didn't you? And it went through everything you said. The report will appear in the London paper. You've managed to keep your promise to Solandrum, haven't you, Craig? With the aid of Parkesley's arrival and sudden departure. Now all that's ahead is to wait and collect your fee. Hello, my friend. Come on in, Solandrum. I trust you feel free to talk now, my dear McClelley. Anybody see you come up? Well, you're so nervous. You're not at all the man of iron. I did a serious thing, I hope you appreciate that. You've already filed a dispatch? I have. What's the matter? Don't tell me it isn't going to work. I have better news, McClelley, much better. News that will preserve your integrity as a correspondent. Who are you driving at? Supposing I were to tell you that anything you said concerning the negotiations for my firm in London were true. Is that what you are telling me? Exactly. At long last, I have been contacted by letter. The man who has the musk wishes to discuss business with me. Now wait a minute, we had an agreement. Oh, please, my friend, I'm getting. Not for one moment. As you say, we had an agreement, a gentleman's agreement. And because of it, you will receive the amount I promised. But if you have to make a legitimate purchase... I'm not above such an action, McClelley. Not under the right circumstances. You're meeting this man tonight? He's coming here to the hotel, yes. I, uh, I must talk to him privately. You see, the margin of profit is accounted for by the simple fact that he did not come by the musk by entirely honest means. So he's willing to sell for less? I am buying the musk for exactly half the price my firm will pay. I see. Very neat, Solendrum. So you need have no concern over your shelf. I'll bring it here to your room the moment my, uh, I guess depart. Ah, sorry, Solendrum. I hate to be indelicate about it, but I'm in too deep. We'll wait for your man right here, together. Yes, Clark? Uh, this is 402. Yes, sir. Mr. Solendrum is visiting with me, but he expects a caller. If anyone asks for him, would you send him up here? Certainly, Mr. Parkesley. Thank you. All taken care of, my friend. All taken care of. Nothing to do now, but set me wait. Ah, yes. And the moment is close, McClelley. This will of the whisp I pursued these many months is almost in my grasp. Think, man, in a matter of hours, perhaps minutes. We both feel rich. And you are thinking, aren't you, Craig? There's a tense, nervous feeling inside you, and you know Solendrum senses it too. Both of you sit there in silence. Waiting. Waiting. You glance at Frank Parkesley's brown leather luggage piled next to the chair. Thankful that the initials of FP are facing you and not Solendrum. Too late to even wish now that you've thrown it into the bay along with the body of its owner. Eleven o'clock. Eleven thirty. Twelve. You're both wondering now. So many things could go wrong. So much could happen to a man alone in Hong Kong with over two hundred thousand dollars in his hand. And then... I'll answer the door, my friend. I'll visit her this year. If you're not getting a new car, you naturally want your present car to keep performing as well as possible. Well, the lubrication and service a car gets have a lot to do with its performance. And that's where independent signal dealers shine. With them, you see, servicing cars isn't just a temporary job. It's a permanent business in which they've invested their own money. That means signal dealers not only actually enjoy working with cars, but on the average have had years of experience. Experience which gives them valuable know-how that can make such a big difference in a car's performance and upkeep. Also, independent signal dealers are well aware that their success and very livelihood depend on how well they satisfy you. Well, naturally, this conscientious type of personal service can add a lot to your car's life and your driving pleasure. Good reason why so many drivers these days are switching to the friendly service stations that feature the famous go farther gasoline. Signal, that is. For a moment you can't move, can you Craig? Then suddenly you'll find yourself on your feet. And in the few seconds it takes you to cross the room. The whole nightmarish story flashes across your mind. The cryptic wire Selendrum sent you and Cal Cutter. The fortune in Tibetan musts. The false dispatch. Park Selendrum's body lying at the bottom of the bay. And above all, the fear. The terrible knowledge of what will happen if they find you here in his place. Yes, Craig, from now on you have to move fast. I wonder if I'm in the right room. Yes, sir. The man you want is inside. Come in. This is Mr. Selendrum. Good evening. I presume you're Park Selendrum. Park Selendrum? Yes, Craig, the man I've been expecting. That's very interesting, Mr. Selendrum. I'm Inspector Wilson. I knew Frank Park Selendrum wasn't working alone, so I've been following him ever since he robbed a trader in Burma of a fortune in Tibetan musts. Well, this is obviously something between you two gentlemen, so I'll just... No, my friend, don't go. You're in this too. You're quite right. You see, after tracing Park Selendrum this far, I lost track of him momentarily. It disappeared. Quite remarkable. Then this afternoon, some fisherman reported a body visible to flow tight in the shallow water of Crown Point. A body? Yes, Park Selendrum's body. Now, suppose you tell me, which one of you killed him? Oh, no. Wait a minute. We haven't seen this Park Selendrum. You registered here in his name? But we haven't seen him. We were waiting for him. Then how does it happen that his luggage is there by that chair? I'd know it anywhere. Or do I follow it long enough? You see, some of that luggage contains the stolen musk. What? I said that luggage contains the stolen musk. Interesting, eh? Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program The Whistler each Sunday night at this same time. Meantime, signal oil company and the friendly independent dealers who help you go farther with signal gasoline hope you'll remember. Regardless of what gasoline you use, you'll enjoy more miles of happy driving. If you drive at sensible speeds, obey traffic regulations, and avoid taking chances, you may even save a life, possibly your own. Richard and tonight's story were Bill Foreman as The Whistler, Jack Moyles, Marvin Miller, Ben Wright, Brayman Lawrence, and Byron Kane. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen, with story by Joel Malone and Harold Swanton, music by Wilbur Hatch, and was transmitted 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 this 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 Brooke starring Eve Arden, which follows immediately over most of these stations. This is the CBS Radio Network.