 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. Signal, the famous Go Farther gasoline. Invite you to sit back and enjoy another strange story by The Whistler. And 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's strange story. Returned with the spray. It was a quiet wedding in a small church in San Diego. But everyone who counted considered it the most important social event of the season. Elliot Darby, the last surviving member of one of the city's oldest family, was being united with his second cousin, Catherine Peabody. You stand at the altar, Elliot, immaculate in your striped trousers and morning coat, facing the aisle that Catherine will walk to become your bride. Inside you feel none of the nervousness attributed to bridegroom, only deep satisfaction with the terms of fortune. You let your eyes roam over your wedding gifts, most of them family friends. And suddenly, seated only a few feet away from you, you see her, her face looking up at you with a mocking smile. No, it can't be. And then you feel your knees buckling. Somebody get a doctor. How could she be there, Elliot? Her eyes mocking you, smiling at your shock, reveling in it. It takes you back, doesn't it, Elliot? Just a few weeks ago, really, at a meeting with your lawyer when he gave you the verdict. That's about the size of it, Elliot. You're broke. Not very pleasant, but, well, there it is. I didn't dream it was that bad. Well, you still have clear title on your cabin cruiser. It might bring you in. No, no, I won't sell the adventurer. Dad bought that for me when I was graduated from college. All of us have been in love with that boat. Well, that's up to you. I don't know what to do, exactly. From where I sit, Elliot, there are only two things you can do. What's that? Either find some suitable work or marry quickly and wisely. Well, Elliot, works out of the question. And that leaves only to marry quickly and wisely. It's obvious, then, that you think of Catherine. Obvious, too, that her father, Thomas Peabody, managed their money far better than you have the Darby's. So you turn to Catherine, arrange dinner with her in her home a few evenings later. Catherine, this lobster is superb. You've been very complimentary this evening. My dress, my wine, now my lobster. I just can't help it, but your flattery always makes me suspicious. It should. You have every reason to believe I'm after your money. Yes, I'm afraid I do. And let's face it, it's partly true. But that's not the whole story, Catherine. Now, there's no point in pretending I'm hopelessly in love with you. I know very well you're not. But I'm not looking for that in a woman. I want someone I can be fond of and comfortable with, a stable person. That's more or less my view. In that case, I... Oh, Kath, why don't we get married? I should like to very much. Don't kiss me yet, Elliot. I'd like to say something first. Yes? I learned very early in life that I'm not an attractive woman. Well, now, Kath, really... Come on, let me finish. The one thing I can always depend on is my wealth. And I intend to keep complete control of it, even after I'm married. In other words, you're saying you don't trust me. You know any other male. I suppose you plan to give me a small sum for cigarette money every week. So that's unkind. I was going to appoint you manager of the Peabody Department Store. At a good salary. For all your other faults, Elliot, you have a very good mind. Special talent for order and detail. A man of habit. And let's see, it's Wednesday evening. That means billiards at your club, promptly at 8.30. Why, yes, that's right. And I dare say you still take your boat, the adventurer, on an afternoon cruise every Sunday. Yes, I do, religiously. You're a wonder, Kath. You really do know me, don't you? Later when you leave her, you go to your club, but only for a while. Then you get in your car, drive around. And the more you think about it, the madder you get. If you marry Katharine, you'll become another of her possessions, her errand boy. You have to think, Elliot. You stop at a bar on the outskirts of town, and you do think and drink for a long time. You ignore the talkative bartender, you ignore everything. Are you really as far away as you look? Huh. No. No, not really. That's good. Come on, let's talk. People call me event. People are lucky. My name is Edward. Edward Duncan. Hello, Ed. Now first we'll talk about you, and then we'll talk about me. I know. You have to start off first. Well, there's nothing much to tell about me. I'm just a small town girl looking for a job and friends. Nice friends. You think you found a nice friend? I think so. Good. You sold on this bar? Not particularly. Well, let's get out of here. There's a lot of other places. We'll do them all. It's not like fun. Fun. Wonderful. Done. And that's all you remember, Elliot, until the bright midday sun awaits you. It's quite a shock to find yourself sprawled on the deck of your cruiser, the adventurer tied to the dock. You shade your eyes from the sun, look about you, and try to remember what happened, how you got here. With effort you get up, stumble to the rail, and squint out at the dock. And then you see her, and suddenly you remember Yvette. Of course. Of course. You don't look so bad. I guess the driver took pretty good care of you after all. Yes. Driver? Taxi driver. He could carry you. I couldn't. Well, sorry I was so much trouble. How about a cruise, a short one this time? Fine. That's all you have time for. The sea air might clear your head, Elliot. You untie the mooring line, start the engine, and guide the adventurer effortlessly out of the harbor toward the sea. No other craft in sight. It's a beautiful day for a crew. But you see very little beauty. Sorry I gave you a bad time last night. I didn't mean to get out of hand. Oh, that's all right. You'll have lots of time to make up for it. Yes. Of course. You don't remember, do you? Taxi driver? No, I'm afraid. No, no. I mean, you don't remember that we got married, do you? Married? Oh, no. Yes, I have the marriage certificate here if you care to look at it, darling. You stare at the marriage certificate Yvette holds out to you. So that's what happened, Elliot. You and Yvette were married last night, and you don't remember, do you? But she proceeds to fill in the details. You were married at three o'clock in the morning, a small town over the border. Then on the way back, the taxi Yvette hailed after she made you park the car because you couldn't drive. The driver who took her back to her hotel brought you to the adventure. Now you really have something to think about. You followed part of your lawyer's advice. You've married quickly, Elliot. But how wisely. Your eyes wander over the marriage certificate again, and suddenly the name Edward Duncan leaps out at you. You married her under an assumed name, didn't you, Elliot? And Yvette doesn't know who you really are. Yvette, you've got yourself a bad deal, I'm afraid. Really? You're married to a man named Edward Duncan. That's the name you used, yes, but you're really Elliot Darby. What? Your wallet fell out of your pocket in the cab last night. This is Elliot Darby. I like that. I like that much better than Mrs. Edward Duncan. But the certificate... The name on the certificate isn't important. I can round up several witnesses, the justice of the peace, the cab driver. They'll identify you as the man I married. That's all that matters, Elliot Darby. Now see here, it can't be Yvette. I'm broke. Well, it just can't be Yvette at all. In the long run, it'd be much better for both of us if we got an annulment. Would it? I know it would, since we both want to keep the whole thing quiet. Who wants to keep the whole thing quiet? I'm not ashamed of anything I did. I've tried to be nice about this, but since you want to brush me off... That's the way to take it. That's the way I'm taking it, Mr. Darby. And don't think the newspapers aren't going to hear about this. And don't think my lawyer isn't going to find out just how broke you are. Now you're in real trouble, Elliot. If this ever hits the papers, you're ruined. And Catherine will never consider marrying you after this. Your order-deficient mind goes to work. And after a time, you reach a decision. A decision you feel is the only one you can reach. Blow the engine to an idle and go forward to Yvette staring out the sea. Yvette. Leave me alone. I've been thinking it over, Yvette. I'm willing to give the marriage a try. If you want to. I bet you are. No, I mean it. I have a hunch it'll work. Come here. Elliot. We're going to have a wonderful life together, Yvette. I hope so. Elliot, don't hold me so tight. You're pushing me over, Elliot. There wasn't a boat in sight when you pushed her overboard. You turned for the shore and set the engine full speed ahead. Over for Yvette. The next few days you nervously search every edition of the newspapers, but there's no mention of her death. You feel better. Even if the body is discovered now, you're certain it will be beyond identification. And you're confident there's no way of tracing the death to you. You'd been married to Yvette in Mexico under an assumed name. Though you're in the clear, Elliot, you're sure of it. Now you can go ahead with your marriage with Catherine. A quick marriage on her terms. And then at the wedding, the shock of seeing Yvette there in the church was more than you could stand, wasn't it, Elliot? And you fainted. Now as you return to consciousness, a doctor bends over you. You sit up with a start and quickly look for Yvette's face. The seat where you saw her is empty. Your head clears and you're sure now it was only a momentary hallucination. You feel better now, Mr. Dally? Yes, I'm all right, doctor. I'm sorry, Catherine. Now don't worry about her, Miss Peabody, just in case of nervous exhaustion. Are you sure that's all it is? Oh, yes, she is. After all, Miss Peabody, you must remember marriage is a nerve-wracking experience for a man. I don't know. How do you feel, Elliot? Are you well enough to go on with the wedding? Of course, darling. I'm ready and eager for the wedding. It's just one week away, friends. Yes, first of May is opening day for the big $10,000 signal gasoline contest with 200 valuable awards. Imagine you behind the wheel of first prize, a Buick Super in the dashing new Riviera model, swank as a convertible, safe as a closed car. Wonderful, wonderful prizes. Six Packard Bell television sets with latest type, black picture tube. Both table models and Packard Bell's unique telecaster consoles that roll at mere fingertip touch to most convenient viewing angle. Then there's O'Keefe and Merritt's finest gas range with vanishing shelf and grill-o-vator broiler. Also, 10 vacuum cleaners and 50 pop-up toasters by Westinghouse. And you can be sure if it's Westinghouse. Yes, there are 200 really worthwhile awards in the big signal contest. Coming May 1st! Best of all, in this signal contest, you don't have to buy anything. There are no box tops to send in, no tickets to save. So be sure to keep tuned to The Whistler for more details about the big, exciting $10,000 signal gasoline contest coming May 1st. After the honeymoon, you find married life rather pleasant, don't you, Elliot? Yes, you learn to accept Catherine's domination. Laugh off the occasional digs about it from your friends at the club. What pleases you most is your new job as manager of the Peabody Department Store. You like to run things with precision and efficiency. Yes. And everything is humming along smoothly until one afternoon, several weeks after your marriage. Your secretary informs you there's a visitor in your outer office. A Mrs. Duncan to see you, sir. Miss Evans, you know I don't accept outside appointments in the afternoon unless I... Who'd you say? Mrs. Duncan. Mrs. Edward Duncan. Come on. Can't be. Miss Evans, I don't want to see anyone. You tell her that I... Wait, you can't go in. Hello, darling. Returned with the spray. How did you get back? There wasn't a ship or a sail in sight. One thing you didn't notice. There was a boy floating 200 yards away. A boy? I hung on to it for two hours before a fishing boat picked me up. I suppose you've got me just where you want me, huh? What do you think? What are you going to do? Besides ruin your name and marriage? Oh, I could have you thrown in jail for bigamy in attempted murder. These matters might be a little more difficult to prove than you imagine, Evans. Not when I know where I can locate a few fishermen, the bartender, and the man who married us. All right. How much do you want? 25,000. 25,000. I don't have that kind of money. You married millions, darling. Or did you forget I was at your wedding? Unfortunately, Catherine makes a careful distinction between her husband and her banker. With you around, I don't blame her. But you'll get it for me, won't you, Elliot? How? That, I'm afraid, is your problem. I get the money or the satisfaction of seeing you thrown into jail. I'm sure we can work something out. Make it good, darling. I'll give you a position here at the store. It'll be money coming in just like an annuity. A job? The best in the store. I'll make you a buyer. Women's ready to wear. Oh, a buyer. Oh, you know, I think I'd like that. How much does it pay? A hundred a week. Make it two. All right. Fifty. Now, look, you bet you can. Two fifty a week. All right. Then it's settled. You're on the payroll as of right now. Hubby, dear. It was a way out, wasn't it, Elliot? A way to buy off Evette. The girl you thought you'd murdered after your marriage tour in Mexico. Now you're going to be very careful to conceal your new employee from your wife, Catherine. Catherine is always rather finicky about checking into new people at the store, particularly those in important positions. And so you bury Evette's name in the company book that no one pays any attention to it. And then one afternoon, Catherine decides to make a routine inspection of the store. You're doing a very good job, Elliot, those new window displays are in excellent state. Well, thank you, my dear. By the way, Elliot, I was speaking with Mrs. Cunningham on the second floor a while ago. Mrs. Cunningham. Oh, women's ready to wear. Yes, she tells me that one of our new buyers sent us fifty suits that are just not saleable, not to our clientele. A new buyer? Yes, Mrs. Edward Duncan. Who is she? What's her background? And why didn't you tell me you'd hired her? Well, I'm sure I mentioned it, Catherine. I'm sure you did not. Well, I must have slipped my mind then. Come along, dear. We'd better step lively if we're going to get to that color television demonstration. Mrs. Dobby. Mrs. Dobby. What? Oh, Mrs. Evans. Yes, what is it? Mrs. Cunningham wanted me to tell you. She's waiting for you in the office. Mrs. Duncan is with her. Thank you. Catherine, what's this all about? Well, I've arranged a little meeting, Elliot. You run along to the demonstration. I want to have a little talk with this Mrs. Duncan. I finally met your other wife. That was quite a session we had in Mrs. Cunningham's office. Yes, yes. Talk about third degree. That wife of yours is an expert. Well, that's that. She fired you. That's right. What are you going to do about it? What can I do? Nothing. I want $25,000, Elliot. How do you expect me to get it? I told you I haven't got it. I don't care. You can tell your wife the truth. Maybe she thinks you're worth your way can go. But if I don't hear from you by tomorrow, I'm going to the police. You spend a nervous, sleepless night, don't you, Elliot? Eliminating plan after plan. Until one key idea keeps repeating itself to you. Accidental death. Yes. It has to be something the police will consider a cut and dried case of accidental death. Not worth any serious investigation. Finally, you work out a detailed and foolproof plan. And the next day, Saturday, you phony vet from your office. You'll have the money? Yes. You meet me at the Beach Cafe tomorrow night at 8 o'clock. It's about 15 miles out of town on the coast highway. Left-hand side of the road, and you can't miss. All right, Ellie, but I don't see why you can't bring the money here to my apartment. Oh, please, Evette, I don't want to take any chance of Catherine's money. Oh, you ever, aren't you? All right. Tomorrow night, Beach Cafe, 8 o'clock. Sunday. It's a beautiful day for a cruise, isn't it, Elliot? And that afternoon, you board the adventurer and set out to sea. You carefully follow the coast for 15 miles. Anchor and row a shore in the dinghy. A few minutes before 8, you're standing in the shadows, not far from the Beach Cafe, waiting patiently for Evette to drive up. The money you borrowed from the office safe is tucked away in your inside coat pocket. Time is important, isn't it, Elliot, and you're worried. And finally, you see your car drive up. And as the headlights pick you up out of the shadows, you wave to her. Well, what are you hiding out here for? Well, I'd rather not be seen if you don't mind. All right, get in. You brought the money? Yes, here it is. You can count it. I don't have to. I know where I can always find you. Of course. Well, what do you plan to do with yourself now that you've made a small fortune? Oh, take a nice vacation. Then I think I'll shed my past. Divorce one Edward Duncan. You won't mind that, will you, Edward? No. Ah, right on time. What is? A train. So what? So this? Your fist catches around the point of the jaw and she slumps down on the seat. Quickly, you shove her out of the way and slide in behind the wheel. You turn off the highway into a side road and drive until you come to an unguarded railroad crossing and stop the car on the tracks. You push Yvette back into the driver's seat and then grab the envelope with the $25,000 in it and start running down the road. When you're sure you won't be seen, you stop and turn and watch the train round the curve and bear down on the stall car. Goodbye, Yvette. This time, you won't be coming back. Prices, prices, prices. So many prices. I could use this whole program just to describe the wonderful things you can win in Signals Thrilling $10,000 Contest. Coming May 1st. Second prize, for instance, is an Apex Complete Automatic Laundry with three work-saving units. Apex Automatic Washer, Apex Automatic Dryer, Apex Sit-Down Ironer. Then there's a Frigidaire Deluxe Refrigerator with new humid air cold wall cooling. Frigidaire Home Freezer. Frigidaire Electric Range with the biggest oven of any household range. Five solid gold case wristwatches by Hellbrose with 17-dual movement. Five makeup cases from Halliburton's famous line of featherweight aluminum luggage filled with exquisite cosmetics by Anatole Robbins of Hollywood. Ten Packard Bell radios. And three O'Keefe and Merritt gas ranges. These and dozens of other valuable awards mean you simply can't afford to miss the Signal Gasoline Contest Coming May 1st. So be sure to listen to the Whistler next Sunday for complete details and suggestions to help you win one of the 200 valuable prizes in Signal's big $10,000 contest. Coming May 1st. It's over isn't it, Elliot? Evet is out of the way now for good and you're safe. You row back to the adventurer, take a leisurely cruise and the following morning as you always do on Monday mornings you dock at precisely 8 o'clock. Now you've only to drive back to the store replace the $25,000 in the safe and no one will ever know. You hurry off the boat and head for the parking lot and as you do you see a police car parked nearby. A police captain steps out of it as he sees you and he walks forward. Mr. Darby? Oh yes. I'm Captain Cannon. Your wife told us you'd be out here. What's the matter? One of your employees was killed in a train crossing accident last night, a woman named Evet Duncan. Oh, terrible. Your wife told us you would hire Mrs. Duncan might be able to give us some information on it. Well, I'll help in any way I can of course. We'd like to check the personnel records at the store too. Records? Yes. Her application blank for one thing we have to notify her husband or her parents. Oh. Well, I think you'll have better luck reaching her parents. She told me her husband had deserted her some time ago. He seems to have disappeared. Oh, really? Well, thanks. That'll save us some trouble. Captain, this accident, where did it happen? About a mile out of Crescent Cove. Her car was stalled in the train tracks. Killed instantly, I suppose. Yeah. Oh, is this your car? Yes. Do you mind if I drive to the store with you, Mr. Darby? You can tell me what you know about Mrs. Duncan on my way. Oh, of course I don't mind. That's the moment I'll unlock it. Never. Can't seem to open the door. Oh, these aren't my keys. Aren't they? My wife's probably in the mine here somewhere. Mind if I see those keys, Mr. Darby? I know, but... Oh, thanks. The identification tag here shows license number 8Y5361. So what? That's the license number of the car a vet Duncan was killed in. We've been looking for these keys, Darby. Ever since we discovered that the ignition was turned off and the keys were missing from a vet Duncan's wrecked car... No. No. I guess it's almost second nature to turn the motor off and slip the keys in your pocket when you stop the car. Oh, thank you. Can you get the keys in your pocket when you stop a car? Isn't it, Mr. Darby? It'll be your signal for the signal oil program, the Whistler. And don't forget, if you'd like to win a new Buick, Apex Automatic Laundry, Packard Bell Television Set, Frigidaire Refrigerator, Electric Range, or Home Freezer, be sure to listen to the Whistler next Sunday for complete details about the big $10,000 signal gasoline contest coming May 1st. Coming May 1st. Featured in tonight's story were Bill Foreman, Hans Conreed, Mary Jane Croft, and Mary Lansing. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen, with story by Meyer Dolinsky, 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 this same time next Sunday another strange tale by the Whistler. Marvin Miller speaking for the Signal Oil Company, this is CBS The Columbia Broadcasting System.