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And now, tonight's story, the Four Seasons, a transcribed adventure of George Valentine. Dear Mr. Valentine, anyone with a romantic name like yours must be willing to share in a romantic adventure, or to be more exact, an adventure in the name of and for the glory of love. Needless to say, I wouldn't call on you unless there was an element of danger. But then, isn't that what makes an affair of the heart the more intriguing? Please come to see me this afternoon or two, and please come alone. Expectantly yours, Donna May Lawson. Donna May Lawson. I like her nerve alone. Donna May. A romantic adventure. Oh, but you don't understand, Angel. Donna May Lawson. I flunk medieval history in college because of this gal. You mean she wouldn't let you copy from her paper? Oh, nothing as intimate as that, Bruxy. You see, she was in a musical comedy, and it stayed in town for six weeks. Yeah, Madden A's Wednesday and Saturday, 2.30. Same time as my class in medieval history. I know, you had a conflict. On my history exam, they asked who sank the Spanish Armada, and the only name I could think of was Donna May Lawson, the most beautiful show girl in the world, to quote the posters. And I thought you worked your way through college. Yeah, except on those Wednesdays and Saturdays. She couldn't have been more than a kid then. Well, she's a big girl now with a yen for adventure. Yeah, she said there was a danger. Maybe murder. Well, now, if I see her, it's wholesome curiosity. Yeah, boys go through stages. First dolls, then girls, then murder, then girls again. George, she probably still has a showgirl written all over her. Oh, Angel. And I'm afraid you may like the handwriting. Bruxy, I'll make you a promise. If Donna May sings any siren songs, I'll close my ears. It's not your ears. I'm worried about it, it's your eyes. You're very prompt, Mr. Valentine. Here, please sit down. Thanks. Well... Anything wrong? On the contrary, I didn't mean to stare, but I couldn't help it. My mother decided I was going to be a girl, baby. Well, she did an inspired job. You know, before you came in, I was trying to imagine what kind of a man would make a career of doing, well, anything. And I hope doing anything well. Anyway, Mr. Valentine, you're just as I imagined. Ah, yeah. Now, about the dangerous adventure you wrote about. I want you to deliver a small box to a place only 30 miles away from here. That sounds real dangerous. I'll pay you $50 for doing it. Oh, now, look, I don't want to undersell myself, but I think you could get a Western Union boy to deliver it for, let's say, $45. Take a good look at these four miniatures, Mr. Valentine. They're very nice, but... They're worth at least $50,000. What? They are the only miniatures Rubens ever painted. The Four Seasons of Love. Flirtation, passion, contentment, regret. I see, I see. Silver lovebirds, grinning cupids, fawns on the hoof. Very pretty. And very costly. Rubens painted them for the girlfriend of the Duke of Mantua. It set the Duke back 2,000 crowns, and that was before inflation. Some women have a way with men, don't they? Yes, don't they? I've heard at least one collector admit he was tempted to commit murder for these beautiful things. They're considered Rubens' masterpiece. All in all, I can see why you want to take fairly good care of them. Unfortunately, I'm forced to sell them. Oh. Yes. You see, my husband... Oh. I mean, just... Oh. Yes, it's Donna Lawson Nichols. My husband is having some financial difficulties. That's too bad. Without telling him, I've arranged for the Wainsville galleries to put these miniatures up for sale. Charles knew he'd never let me part with them. We're in the contentment stage of the Four Seasons of Love. I don't want us ever to know regret. I see. And all I have to do is deliver this box. Yes. To Mr. Lennon. Here's his card. When you leave, I'll phone and tell him to expect you. Okay. I don't want to sound silly, but you do have a gun, don't you? After all, you are delivering a small fortune. Oh, sure, sure. I have a gun. And I hit the bullseye with it every time. If the bull is looking down the barrel. Well, I'll get a receipt from Mr. Lennon and bring it over tonight. Oh. Not tonight. Mm-hmm. Charles will be home. Tomorrow afternoon would be much better. Wow. All right. There's really no need for my husband to know anything about us. Is there? Ta-da-da. Ta-da-da. Say what's the matter with that guy? Nobody on the road for miles. They can't find room to pass. Come on, come on. You don't pass, will you? Hey, what are you trying to do? Are you crazy? What's the matter with you? Hey, look out. Hey, buddy. Hey, buddy, something wrong? Oh, why? I said, is something wrong, Mr.? Oh, no, no. Everything's just pitchy. Nothing like lying in a ditch with a car twisted around you, I always say. Now you're joking. Yeah. Come on. Help me out of here like a good fella, will you? Yeah, sure. Grab a hold. Yeah. Oh. Yeah. Here you are. Jeez. What happened to you? I don't know. A truck forced me off the road. After that, I don't remember anything. Hey, you know, nobody couldn't hardly see you from up in the road. It was a lucky thing I spotted you, huh? Yeah. Well, I'm still in one piece anyway. Hey, wait a minute. Wait a minute. Where is it? Where's the box? What's the matter? I don't see any pictures. I don't see them around anyway. Oh, I used to save them when I was a kid. Yeah, Grover Cleveland, Babe Rose. Yeah, sure. Hey, what is this? What, you find something? I'll say. A neatly folded check in my pocket. Pay to the order of George Valentin. $20,000. Hey. Hey, you know, whoever hits you maybe once you should buy yourself a new car. Signed Jason Rentschler, the Rentschler Galleries, in payment for the Four Seasons of Love by Peter Paul Rubens. What? Are you going back to town, mister? Yes. You got yourself a passenger. Somebody nudged me off the road and the miniatures are gone. Gone? What do you mean? Oh, here, George. Hold still. All right. Here, it feels good. Well, I passed out and somebody made off of those things. Well, maybe we should have X-rays made of your head. Sometimes things like this... Brooksy, I'm a man of wealth. Look. When he th... What's the guess? I found this instead of the miniatures. Okay, Angel, thanks for the first day. George, where are you going? If nothing else, my mother taught me good manners. Makes sense, will you? When somebody gives Mrs. Valentine's little boy $20,000, he should thank the man. I've got to have a little talk with Mr. Rentschler. Going somewhere? Well, as a matter of fact... I'm Sergeant Crowley, robbery squad. What? You George Valentine, mister? I'm beginning to wonder. Where were you headed for? Mexico, Pango, Pango? What were you talking about? A little deal you pulled off this afternoon. Deal? What deal? Yes, Sergeant. Take that again and slower this time. Mrs. Nichols hired you to deliver some valuable miniatures, Valentine. Right? Right. And you were supposed to show up with them in Wainsville, right? Right. Thank you, Miss. But you didn't show. So Mrs. Nichols got worried and phoned us. Okay, where are those miniatures? Well... I... I lost them. Just like that, huh? Well, no, no, not quite, Sergeant. A truck forced my car into a ditch when I came to that darn things were gone. Well, that's your story. And don't think we're not gonna... You and the habit of leaving $20,000 checks on your desk? Oh, dear. Pay to the order of George Valentine. Rentschler Galleries. For the four seasons of... Oh, look, look. I know this sounds screwy, but I found this check in my pocket. Of course. That keeps happening to people all the time. You don't believe me. I... wonder why. I was just going to see Mr. Rentschler. That's nice. Let's make it real sociable. And we'll all go together. What do you mean I sold you these miniatures, Mr. Rentschler? But of course you did, young man. Just a few hours. I never saw you before in my life. Mr. Rentschler, take a good look at him, please. But, no, Officer, what is this all about? It's about a guy selling something that doesn't belong to him. Oh, sure you are joking, Mr. Valentine. I know it doesn't look like the kind of man who would do anything. Never mind that. If he sold you these thingamajigs, where are they? Right here. I wouldn't let them out of my sight here, you see. Oh, wait a minute. This is crazy. Are they not beautiful? Once before, I have seen them at an exhibition, the Elbeth and Victoria Museum. Well, Valentine... I tell you, I was in my car driving to Wainsville. You were on your way out of town, all right, but you had a crack up and didn't think it was smart to go on. Lucky for the nickels, I'd say. No, please, Officer, now, young man, don't you remember? You told me you needed money, and then you made me such a bargain. Of course I didn't hesitate. I told you... Maybe I was foolish not to check, Sergeant. Okay, Mr. Rentschler, okay. Sergeant Crawley? Yeah? I'm Charles Nichols. I got your call to meet you here. Well, I've got your man in, your miniatures, Mr. Nichols. Now, look here. Yes, you'd better look here, Sergeant, before you make a fool of yourself. She blamed everything to me. She thought she was helping me over a rough financial spot, selling these beautiful things. That's so typical of Donna. She's devoted to me to a fault. Oh, sure. Now wait, Mr. Nichols. I was in my car delivering it when a truck came along. You're on a rut, Valentine. In a ditch, Sergeant. Well, gentlemen, if these rubens belong to Mr. Nichols, I will be glad to give back the human tear of my check. Sergeant, as long as I have the miniatures back, I'm not a vindictive man. Sure. Let's forget about the whole thing, hmm? I'm not gonna forget it. You're not gonna get the chance, Valentine. Until your trial comes up, you can kick it around in your mind in one of our nicest cells. Cells? I'll just take these, Mr. Ranchler, for evidence. Of course. And Mr. Nichols. Yes, Sergeant. We'll have to hold your miniatures downtown. But if you'll drop by later, the police custodian will give you a receipt for them. You can reclaim them after the trial. Very well, Sergeant, as you say. They'll be in good hands. The police custodian's receipt is as good as gold to me. Well, Valentine, coming. Well, as long as you put it that way. Oh, it's not so bad, Brooksy. On visitors' day, you can bring me sweetmeats and magazines. You know, like Liberty, Outdoor Life. George, how can you be funny at a time like this? I force myself. Besides, it is funny that, like those miniatures, I'm so beautifully, beautifully framed. In just a moment, we'll return to tonight's adventure, George Valentine. I'll bet you'd be amazed if I told you that four out of five cars on the road today are being gradually chewed to pieces from the inside in a way their owners would never suspect. Well, it's true. If your cars, like most cars, the manufacturer installed an oil filter to strain out the sludge and grit and keep them from going back into the engine. Oil filters don't require much attention. Actually, only once about every 6,000 miles. But unless you change your filter element, every 6,000 miles, it becomes clogged and useless, much like a vacuum cleaner when the dust bag is jammed full. That's why it's a good idea to have your car saver check your oil filter element regularly. When you have your oil drained and changed at regular intervals, your car saver will also check the filter element. Then, if you need a new replacement, he can install a new Atlas Micronic filter. Now's the time to be getting your car ready for the winter weather driving ahead. So plan to stop in soon for an oil drain and oil filter service at any standard station at the independent Chevron gas station where they say, and mean, we take better care of your car. The Four Seasons of Love Four priceless miniatures that a girl you used to drool over in your college days asks you to deliver to an art gallery. A routine little job, but your car is forced off the road, the miniatures are stolen, and in your pocket is a check for $20,000 payable to you for the sale of the human's masterpieces. What's more, Jason Rentschler, who signed the check, swears he gave it to you for value received. Even if your name is George Valentine, you need help. Thanks for bailing me out, Johnson. Yeah, to think I'd live to see the day. The whole thing just doesn't make sense, Lieutenant. Everything's right back where it started from. The Nichols have a police custodian's receipt for their miniatures, so they'll get them back after the trial. Rentschler will get his check back and tear it up. Nothing gained, nothing lost, eh? No correction, please. George had his car smashed up, his classic features remodeled, and the hand of the law is still heavy on his shoulder. Why was it necessary to frame me at all? Who stood to gain? Valentine, you get involved in the word as crazy as... Please, Johnson, please, not today. You can really be a pal and see what you can dig up on Charles Nichols, what he does, everything. I'm going to talk to Rentschler. Make him tell why he lied. He's supposed to have a pretty good reputation. Just the same. I didn't like the way he and Nichols looked at each other. With the clear, innocent eyes of a couple of used car salesmen. Well, what do I do? Well, Charles Nichols has an office in the exchange building. You think he could sort of keep an eye on him for the rest of the day, see where he goes, what he does? I'll stick so close to him, I'll be able to hear him think. Good. Well, Valentine. Yes, Sergeant? I just caught you in time. Somebody's on the phone for you. Oh, thanks. You can take it here. All right. Hello? Yeah? Oh, it's you. Why can't you tell me now? All right. Okay, I'll be right over. Who was it, George? Donna Nichols. She says she has something on her mind and knowing her mind, I can expect almost anything. Sometimes she has a mural for you to deliver. This time I have a few things to deliver myself. Brooke, see, there's one little development I haven't told you about. When I was committed to this, Huskar, the sergeant at the desk went over my person with rough and impious hands. In short, he frisked me. My gun was missing. George, you should have told Johnson. If using my gun was part of the frame, I hate to think where the police might find it. I'd rather get to it first. See you later, and we can compare notes. You're being very sweet, Mrs. Nichols. I'm sorry. I don't have time to be cute. The way everything stacks up, you should have me pegged for a guy who tried to swipe your precious miniatures and head for parts unknown. Somehow, George, I can't make myself believe that. Really? What is it? My open, boyish face? Everything about you. I rather like you. Oh, haven't you noticed? Hmm. Anyway, I spoke to Charles. When your trial comes up, we're merely going to say that we have all a misunderstanding. We have no charges to make. Now, that's darn white of you, Donna. What's more, I just phoned Mr. Rentschler. He wants to see you. The galleries are closed, but he left the side door open for you. I think after you've talked to him, everything will be all straightened out. Uh-huh. Well, aren't you going to thank me? Oh, of course, sure. But, uh, I was just thinking how. You don't impress me as the thoughtful type, George. I should say action was more in your line. You know, Donna, you can make an awful lot of trouble for some man. Hmm? And I think I know the man. Now, I'd better get out of here and go see Rentschler. Wait a minute. Wow, what's the matter? Did you lose Nichols? No. I found something that might be important. Go on, go on. Just a few minutes ago, I saw him go into the continental galleries. You know that, that swank place where all the art collectors go to collect? Oh, wow. Does it mean anything? Well, Nichols doesn't have the miniatures right now, but he has business at the continental galleries. George, maybe? Let's try to figure that out later. Come on, Rentschler's waiting. He left the side door open. Oh, gosh. The galleries look eerie when it's dark. Oh, that's strange. It hasn't got any lights on. Mr. Rentschler? Hey, where are you? Oh, wait, George. I'll turn on one of these table lamps. Oh, that's better. Easy, Bruxy. Mr. Rentschler. Wait a minute now. He's been shot, but he's still alive. George, that's your gun. Yeah. Bruxy, there's a phone booth on the corner. You're going to call an ambulance. Yes. Then you and I are going to beat it. I need some time to think. If your guess is around, George, the dawn's going to come up like thunder and somebody's very red face. You talk to that news boy first, then to Lieutenant Johnson just as I told you. Listen to this. The Nichols know that the miniatures are, at best, a reasonable facsimile. They couldn't sell them to any collector in a million years. So they'd dream up a little stunt requiring a patsy, me to be exact. I still want to know why. They make a deal with Rentschler and get me framed on the charge of grand theft. Then they've got a police custodian's receipt for something which all the newspapers say are the $50,000 Rubens masterpieces. The papers had no reason to doubt that. The police guess he was trying to sell his police receipt. Hey! Of course, Continental can't get its pig in the poke until after my trial. But that's why Nichols would be willing to sell at a bargain price, say only $30,000. By the time anyone gets hepped, the Nichols are in Tahiti sipping coconut juice and shortling over a sucker named George Valentine. It adds up, but Rentschler, he may be dead by now and you're supposed to have killed him. Yeah. That's how Nichols arranged the scene. Splitting the loot two ways so you're sure your plan will work. Proxy, it better. Well, George, back so soon? Well, sure. Surely it only took me a few minutes to straighten everything out with Rentschler. Very nice old gentleman. Yes, I suppose he is. You didn't have any trouble with him. No, not a bit. And I have you to thank. You wanted me to thank you, didn't you? Well, yes. And I said I had to think how. The best way to thank you. And I have. George... You said I was a man of action. Please, I... You know, you can pack an awful lot of thanks into one kiss. Can't you, though? Really now, Charles may be here any minute. Oh, yes. I must thank him, too. About Rentschler, just what did he have to say? In fact, I did all the talking. He was unusually quiet. That can't be Charles. He dues his key. I'll get him. Wow, Brooksy! Oh, Mrs. Nichols, you know my assistant, Miss Brooks. No. I knew I'd find you here, Mr. Valentine. Something terrible has happened to Mr. Rentschler. He... He was murdered. No. I don't understand how could he... It's in all the papers. All the boy-selling papers. Right out there. Read on about it. Art dealer found dead. Woman sought to death of art dealer. Get your paper. What else did the paper say? No murder weapon was found, but the police are very much interested in a blue rhinestone button, obviously from a woman's dress. The button was found in the dead man's hand. Poor Mr. Rentschler. Isn't it perfectly fiendish? I wouldn't like to be the woman if the girls think that was a button off your dress, Donna. My dress? Blue rhinestone. And there's one missing on your sleeve. Isn't that a coincidence? What are you two talking about? I wonder what the police would think. They can't think anything. I've been here all afternoon, and I can prove it. Well, I believe you. But that's because I know you and trust you. But someone apparently wants the police to think you were there, hence the button. Somebody's trying to frame you. Wait a minute. The button is missing. Oh, he wouldn't. This is absurd. What are you saying, Donna? Nothing. Donna, Donna, have you heard that news boy? But Charles, we have visitors. Oh, Valentine. Yes, and Miss Brooks had a chance to read the papers. Nichols, we were just saying that someone has apparently left a button from your wife's dress on the murder scene. What's that? Whoever it was would have been very close to Mrs. Nichols to get it. There seems to be some logic in what Mr. Valentine says, Charles. Never mind. We'll talk about that later, dear. Now, Mr. Valentine, if you and the young lady will excuse us, we have... Oh, sure, of course. But a philosophical observation just occurred to me. Now, look... I'd like to hear your philosophical observation, Mr. Valentine. Just that cheaters have a tendency to cheat other cheaters. It's like the law of nature. What are you talking about now? Well, for instance, I was supposed to be nicely framed for the murder of Wrenchler. My gun was supposed to have been left on the scene. We don't know what this is all about. But, Charles, how could he know? Quiet, Donna, will you? But instead of my gun, there was a button off your sleeve, Donna. Instead of me being framed, you were... Neatly. Very neatly. Donna, I told you, be still. With you charged with murder, Donna, he would keep every dollar he got for the phony miniatures. The Four Seasons of Love. Ironic, isn't it, Donna? Charles, I always suspect... Donna! You can't shut me up. It has to be the way Valentine explained it. I was here all afternoon wearing this dress. You were the only one who could... Didn't I tell you? No, no, you don't bust it. Go on, sit down. Take your hands off. I just wanted to see if you had a gun. You better sit down, Mr. Nichols, while you have the chance. Charles, I'm not going to be framed by you or anybody. I only went for that police custodian gag, not for murder. You killed Wrenchler and you're trying to pin it on me. Well, you're not going to get away with it. Well, well, this is credit gathering. Good, Lieutenant Johnson. Your timing is superb. I didn't want to interrupt. It was much too exciting. All this business about a button, Lieutenant, is so much rot. And you're a fool, Donna. You're quite right about the button, Nichols, because I have it right here. How did you get that? Oh, not Donna. I'm so disappointed. I was sure you'd always remember that golden moment when I thanked you with my arms around you, with your arms around me. Well, that's when I borrowed that button. But that story in the paper is... One news boy yelling what was written out for him. Hmm. Very fine yelling, too, I must say. Yes, indeed. Oh, you... No, no, no, Donna. One good frame deserves another. That's another philosophical observation. I'll never let you get out of here. You know, you need psychiatric treatment, friend. Something therapeutic like this. I told you you'd better sit down, Mr. Nichols. Now, see? It's too late. Here's more proof that heavy-duty RPM motor oil cuts wear in automobile engines. Using heavy-duty RPM, an engine in the northwest went over 130,000 miles, yet showed less than half as much cylinder wear in that time as previous oils did in 75,000 miles. Heavy-duty RPM reduced wear and greatly increased the time between overhauls. It kept the engine exceptionally clean and cut wear rate to a minimum. So get the oil that gives top protection for your car. Get heavy-duty RPM motor oil at any independent Chevron gas station or standard station, where they say and mean, we take better care of your car. You know, I was talking to the commissioner the other day. He said, I... Chief, why bother having a homicide squad when one man like George Ballantyne... Okay, Johnson. Okay, okay. So I was a sucker for a college memory. Forget it. Rangellar will recover. The miniatures were phony, and the Nichols will suffer endurance vile. Crime doesn't pay. Oh, brother, when a police lieutenant comes up with an epigram, that's a sure sign the case is closed. But George, are you sure you didn't enjoy that kiss? After all, you didn't have to kiss her twice. Brooksy, this suspicious nature of yours is going to make you a problem for the man you marry. A problem? Yeah. I bet if your husband came home at four o'clock in the morning raking a perfume and with lipstick on his collar, you'd start asking questions. Why, I do no such thing. Oh, what do you know? You wouldn't? No. I'd have to do his hat size with a rolling pin. Hmm. Spoken just like Mrs. Johnson. Uh, take plenty of time to think up an epigram for that, Valentine. Good night. Tonight's transcribed adventure of George Ballantyne has been brought to you by Standard Oil Company of California on behalf of independent Chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the West. Robert Bailey is starred as George with Virginia Greg as Brooksy. Let George Do It was written by David Victor and directed by Kenneth Webb. Ken Christie was heard as Lieutenant Johnson, Lee Patrick as Donna, Harry Bartel as Nichols, Larry Dobb Kinn as Rentschler, and Joe Duvall as Crowley. Music by Gaylord Carter, your announcer, John Heiston. Listen again next week, same time, same station too. Let George Do It. Let George Do It is heard overseas through the worldwide facilities of the Armed Forces Radio Service. This is the Mutual Don Lee Broadcasting System.