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As our story opens early one morning, we find a kindly old tracer and his assistant, Mike Clancy, pouring over some documents in his office. Mike, uh, ask Susie to step in here for a moment. I want her to attest these signatures. Well, Mr. Keen sir, Susie ain't in yet. This hour? Well, that's odd. You suppose she's ill? I couldn't say, boss. Well, Mike, bring her apartment right away. Yes, sir. I don't understand it. She's always so punctual. Well, you'd think she'd let you know if she was sick or something. Yes, that's right. She's got me worried. Well, they're ringing, boss. I hear them. But I don't get any answer yet. Well, a sovereign cat is Susie now. Well, that's one phone call that hasn't aided the war effort. Oh, I'm sorry to be late, Mr. Keen. What happened, Susie? Just as soon as I get my breath, Mr. Keen, I'll tell you. The family by the name of Nolan lives in the apartment below mine. There's the father, Jim Nolan, and his wife, Mary, and their daughter, Helen. Yes. Well, at 5.30 this morning, I was startled out of a sound sleep by hearing Helen cry out. She was calling, Daddy, don't leave me. Come away from there. I beg you. And then I heard violence sobbing. Well, family row her. Now, Susie, that ain't any reason... Mike, don't interrupt. Go on, Susie. Well, I couldn't imagine what had happened. They're usually such a quiet family. And then this morning, just before I left for the office, Helen came to see me. Mr. Keen, she told me the strangest thing. She'd had a terrible dream about her father last night. A dream? And to cap it all, her mother told her this morning that her father hadn't been home all night. And they're afraid something terrible's happened to him. Well... She was nearly out of her mind. And, well, I brought her to the long-to-the-office with me. And I wonder whether you'd talk to her, Mr. Keen. Well, all right, Susie. Send her in. And I'll take these documents along now that Susie's coming. Yes, please do, Mike. Mr. Keen, this is Helen Nolan. Oh, come in, my dear, and sit down. Thank you, Mr. Keen. Susie has told me briefly what has happened, so suppose you let me ask you a few questions first. When did you last see your father? Yesterday evening, when he got home from work. And what does he do? He's a typesetter at the Daily Advocate. That's down on Santa Street. Yes, go on, my dear. I'm sure he's been murdered, Mr. Keen. Murdered. I dreamed it last night as clear as could be. Oh, try to calm yourself, Helen. A dream is one thing and the facts of life quite another. Has anything happened lately that makes you believe someone wanted to murder your father? Oh, no, Mr. Keen. My father has no enemies. He leads the most regular life in the world. Well, he's never stayed out all night in his life, but my dream was so clear. Well, try to think back. Now tell me, when you last saw your father, what were you doing? Well, last night I was seated at the piano when Dad returned home. You see, Mr. Keen, I love to sing and just as I was beginning a song. Your voice sounds sweeter every day. Well, oh, Dad. That's a beautiful song. It's a dreamy song. It reminds me of you. Me? Dreamy? You hear that, Mother? Well, come to think of it, perhaps you're right. Guess what tomorrow is? Tomorrow I'm celebrating. I've been working 25 years at the newspaper office and I have a big surprise in store for you. Jim, Helen has to be leaving. Oh, that's so nice. Sorry, Dad, I've got a date, a very special one. I'll see you in the morning and you can tell me your surprise then, and maybe I'll have one for you. I returned home quite late, Mr. Keen. Mother and Dad had both gone to bed, I supposed, and then later on I had that terrible dream. A nightmare? My father's been murdered, Mr. Keen, or he's in some awful danger. I know it. Well, tell me, Helen, how does your mother account for your dad's disappearance? Is it possible they had a quarrel? That's just it, Mr. Keen. I don't like to say this. You think she may be holding something back? I don't quite know. Well, suppose I have a talk with your mother. However, first I'll send my clients and my assistant, your dad's newspaper office, for a checkup. And Helen, I'd like you to remain close by where I can reach you very quickly. You're very kind, Mr. Keen. Do you think anything... My dear, try not to worry. I'll get working on this case right away. Well, I talked to Jim Nolan's boss like you asked me, Mr. Keen. What did he say, Mike? Well, sir, Nolan didn't show up at this newspaper office day at all, and he's always very punctual and a reliable worker. The boss didn't know much about him in a personal way, so he suggested we talk to a fellow by the name of John Olson, who works with him, and he's right here in this office. All right, Mike, let's go in. Are you John Olson? Yes, that's me. Well, my name is Keen, and this is Mike Clancy. How do you do? How do you do? We're inquiring about Jim Nolan. I understand that you and Jim are friends. Yes, Jim and me are just like that. He's a fine fellow, fine worker too, but why didn't he come today? Well, that's what we want to find out. Maybe you can help us, John. Sure, sure, I'll help, but how? Well, for some unknown reason, Jim Nolan has disappeared. Yes. Did he have any trouble here that you know of? Trouble? No, Jim and me and the rest here are like one big family. Then you'd know if he was worried about anything. Sure, Mr. Keen, but Jim, Jim was always happy. His head was always in the clouds. In the clouds? In what way? Well, one thing, he talked all the time about how he wanted a house in the country with cows and chickens and honeysuckle climbing all over the porch. Yeah, he talked about that all the time. A house in the country, you say? Well, that might explain something. Well, I hope so. Now you find Jim, Mr. Keen, and say his old pals here want him back quick. All right, John, I'll do the best I can. Come along, Mike. We're going now to see Jim's wife, Mary Nolan. But, Mr. Keen, I can't imagine why Jim didn't come home last night and why he didn't show up at work today. Are you sure? I'm going to ask you something, Mrs. Nolan. What was the surprise your husband had in store for Helen? Well, I suppose it might have something to do with his work, with a raise, perhaps. Could it possibly have had anything to do with that cottage in the country? Your husband may be in great danger, Mrs. Nolan. You want him back, don't you? And Helen's heart is breaking. You're right, Mr. Keen. I'd give anything in the world to have Jim home again. Perhaps, perhaps I should tell you everything. I think perhaps you should. You see, it was this way. From the first day we were married, Jim would bring his weekly paycheck home to me. We agreed that out of it I'd lay aside $5 every week to put in the savings bank. And last night, after Helen had left the house, Jim said to me, Well, Mary, I guess you know what my big surprise is. Tomorrow was 20 years to the day when we started our savings account. Tomorrow, Jim, though, I hadn't remembered. I don't wonder, Mary, 20 years. It's been a long time. But now our dream can come true. Together with the interest, there must be over $6,000 in the bank. Enough to buy that cottage in the country in a few acres of land to live off of. Yep, tomorrow I'm quitting my job. Quitting? But Jim, hadn't you better wait just a while longer? No, Mary, I've made up my mind. Tomorrow I'm going down to the office and tell them I'm through. Think of it. No more grinding away at the shop. Just green fields, blue skies, and air a man can breathe. But things aren't too easy now, Jim, with expenses so high, some weeks I've hardly been able to make ends meet. Oh, that's what you're worried about. Well, I understand, Mary. If we're a few hundred dollars short, that's all right. It's more than that, Jim. More? How much? Answer me. How much? Jim, I didn't realize. Is there $6,000 in the bank? Forgive me, Jim. Forgive me, too. Is there $5,000? Three. One. Is there anything? No, nothing. Nothing. I didn't know you cared so much, but Jim, let me tell you... It's all I've lived for. For the past 20 years. Now, no house, no country. All. All gone. Jim, what are you going to do? Where are you going? I don't know, Mary. I don't know. You see, Mr. Keene, I couldn't tell Jim the truth for Helen's sake. The truth? How do you mean, Mrs. Nolan? What happened to the money? Well, a few years ago, our daughter Helen developed a very fine singing voice. I spent the money having her voice trained under one of the best teachers in the country. I see. Last night, she had an audition. If Helen wins, it will mean a contract with a metropolitan opera. So that's it. But Mrs. Nolan, you were wrong in not telling Jim the truth. Oh, I realize that now, Mr. Keene. I was gambling Jim's happiness against Helen's future. And if Helen fails, Jim would never forgive me. Now I'm afraid Jim may have done something terrible. That's the story, Helen, as your mother told it to me. Poor mother. I never knew. And poor dad. Oh, Mr. Keene, we've got to find my father. Yes, Helen, and quickly. But frankly, I don't know where to start. I haven't a single clue to go on. That terrible nightmare I had. In it, I saw someone trying to murder my father. I saw it as clearly as I'm seeing you in this room. But that was a dream, Helen, a dream. Mr. Keene, sir, if I might make a suggestion, it is just possible... Oh, I know what you're thinking of, Mike. For a fact, boss, the great grandmother Gilhooly had second sight. Why, once she had a dream... Yes, yes, Mike, I've heard such things do happen, but to look for a lost person on such a basis, why, it's fantastic. Dreams are too vague and uncertain. I wouldn't attempt it. Mr. Keene, it wouldn't do her no harm to have the young lady describe it. No, I suppose not. It was so vivid, Mr. Keene. Please let me tell you. All right. Go ahead, Helen. Well, I suddenly found myself running along what seemed to be a broad wooden platform. I could faintly see a peer in the distance, and I could hear water lapping up against it. Then as I got closer, I noticed my father standing uncertainly on the edge, and someone was beside him. Railroad tracks and a watchman's shack were between me and the peer. I wanted desperately to get to my father, but as I started to cross the tracks, I heard a train approaching rapidly. Then the watchman came out of his shack and said, You'd better hurry, Miss, if you're going to make it. Come along, I'll help you. He flashed the train down with its brakes grinding out. I leaped across the rails crying out, Daddy, don't leave me. Come away from there, I beg of you. Suddenly, my father was gone, and the other person ran away. And I woke up sobbing wildly. You're very close to your father, aren't you, my dear? Terribly close. Oh, Mr. Keene, doesn't that dream mean anything to you? Don't you believe it shows danger that something dreadful has happened to my father? Well, boss, what do you say? Well, Helen, there's just a bare possibility you've been through one of those rare psychic experiences when occasionally reads about it. It's a thousand-to-one chance. And while I've never attempted such a thing before, I propose to look into this dream of yours. Mike? Yes, sir. There's a railroad line running the length of the west side riverfront. That's the logical place to begin. Inquire of every shackman's booth along there for any trace of the missing man. In just a moment, we'll hear the outcome of Mr. Keene's search for Jim Nolan. Meanwhile, cold sufferers, at the first sign of a sneeze or other common cold symptoms, take something to help reduce fever of present, something to ease the headache, and something to relieve the pains and aches of a cold. Hill's cold tablets are especially prepared to go after all these symptoms at once. You can rely on Hill's cold tablets because each ingredient in this scientifically compounded cold tablet is of the highest possible quality, a proven formula, famous for more than 50 years. Take only as directed. Ask for Hill's cold tablets at your druggist tonight. Now back to Mr. Keene and the nightmare murder case. It's a few hours later and the tracer is in his office, waiting to hear the results of Mike Clancy's search of the riverfront. His telephone rings. Hello? Is that you, Mr. Keene? Yes, Mike. What's the news? Well, boss, I think I've got a lead and it looks like a good one. Fine. Where are you? At the corner of Twelth and West Street. Very well, Mike. I'll be there right away. And this shackman I told you about, Mr. Keene, he says to me, well, he says, well, here we are at his hut now. I let Tom, that's his name, tell you the story himself. Very well. Suppose you wait outside, Mike, while I go on in. Right, boss. Hello, Tom. I'm Mr. Keene. Yes, Mr. Keene. Come on in, sit down. Thank you. I ain't got much style here, but it's a mite warmer and outside. Mike Clancy was telling me what you's after. Yes, I understand you noticed someone early this morning who answered the description of the man we're looking for. That's right. I spied him first about five o'clock. He was hanging around the pier there. The pier, eh? Hmm. Yes. Well, the early mill train comes by here at 5.30. As he was coming down the stretch, I see this here fella easing towards the tracks. That's funny, thinks I. So I called him to get back, but he took no notice. He acted like a man in a daze. So I flagged the train down with my red lantern and pulled him away from the rails, and just in time, too. And then what happened, Tom? Well, I took him into my shack here, Mr. Keene. He didn't look like the usual waterfront hobo, so I asked him what his name is. And what did he say? Well, he says, what's that to you? Jim Jones is good enough. I talked to him for half an hour, kind of quiet like, but didn't seem to make no kind of impression. He acted real beat down. He did, eh? Yeah. He just couldn't seem to get hold of himself. kept saying he had no interest in life. Finally, I persuaded him to go and get some sleep. Told him he'd feel better then, and I directed him to a hotel around the corner. A hotel, you say? Yes, sir. Last I saw him, he was headed that way. Well, thank you, Tom. You've been a real Samaritan. God bless you. This must be the hotel Tom spoke of, Mike. Well, I guess we're at the end of the trail, Mr. Keene, and that's fine. Oh, yes. Well, here's the lobby door. Go ahead, boss. Mike, you see what I see? Oh, police and plenty. Well, it looks like trouble, sir. There's Inspector Hopkins. Come on. Hello, Inspector Hopkins. What are you doing here, Mr. Keene? I might ask the same of you. Well, I'll tell you. It's a little matter of murder. Murder? Yeah. The night clerk was slugged over the head this morning and the safe robbed. Any idea who did it? Oh, sure. This is one murder we don't have to worry about. We just got a confession out of the gunman. Well, good for you, Inspector. Yeah, Mr. Keene, it's an open and shut case, all right. This gunman was the last one to sign the register before the murder was committed. And he signed it under the name of Jim Jones. Oh. But we broke him down, though. That name is a phony. His real name is Nolan. Nolan? Oh, my, oh, my. Oh, you know him, Mr. Keene? Well, as a matter of fact, we were looking for him for another matter, a little domestic trouble. Oh, well, that sows it up, then. You say that he confessed to this murder? Got it down in black and white. Oh, you're that terrible, Mr. Keene. Inspector, what time did the murder take place? The medical examiner has just finished his examination and handed me his report. He said the hotel clerk must have been dead approximately 12 hours. It's now 5.30 in the afternoon, so the murder must have been committed about 5.30 this morning. Yeah. Between 5 and 5.30, the doc says, not later than 6. In 5 and 5.30? Inspector, with your permission, I'd like to check on you. Inspector, with your permission, I'd like to check on some of the details of this murder. And then I'd like to talk to Jim Nolan. Sure thing, Mr. Keene. This way. Come along, Mike. Boy, if that nightmare ain't coming through, boss, with murder in all the trimmings. Hush, Mike. All right, Mr. Keene, you've seen the desk clerks, buddy. Now, do you want to have a talk with Nolan? Yes, Inspector. I'd like to see what I can get out of him. He's right in here, Mr. Keene. Oh, Nolan, if someone wants to talk to you. Hello, Jim. I'm glad to see you. My name is Keene. Keene, you say? What do you want? I've been sent by your wife and daughter to look for you. I haven't any wife and daughter. No. The Inspector tells me you've confessed to killing the hotel clerk. Sure, I confessed. Why don't you fellas let me alone? I've told you I did it, so let's get it over with. And sooner the better. Do you want to die, Jim? Is there any reason why I should want to live? I can think of two reasons. Mary and Helen. I don't know what you're talking about. Inspector. Yes, Mr. Keene? I have an idea. Have you had this man view the body of the victim? Well, no, it wasn't necessary, Mr. Keene. All right. Jim, there's one question I want to ask you, and then I won't bother you anymore. Can you give me a description of the hotel clerk who was on duty when you registered this morning? The man you say you killed. Haven't you enough evidence against me? Yes, but this will clinch it. Well, he was stocky, had black hair, a pug nose, and the little finger on his right hand was missing. I noticed the finger, especially. You're sure of that? Positive. Oh, Mr. Keene, just a minute. That ain't what the dead man looks like at all. Of course not. That's a perfect description of Bugs Morelle, the safecracker. Well, he's sure. That mug we've been outgunning for for some time, eh, Mr. Keene? Right. Morelle is your man, Inspector. Jim Nolan never committed this crime. Yeah, but how, uh... Let me suggest what happened. Bugs held up the hotel desk clerk and then blackjacked him. While he was in the act of breaking open the safe, Nolan entered the hotel. To allay suspicion, Bugs then posed as the real clerk and assigned him to a room. But then why did Nolan here confess he murdered the clerk? Well, that's another story. Jim Nolan has had a great shock. At the moment, he is desperate. He just doesn't want to live. And having failed in an attempt to kill himself, he thought he saw in this another way out. Well, it...it sounds crazy, Mr. Keene, but it looks as if you might be right. I'm sure of it, Inspector. With your permission, I'll take Jim Nolan along home. Right ahead, Mr. Keene. That is. If you'll promise to have him on hand if I need him as a witness. I'll give you my word on it. Mr. Keene, don't you see I can't go back. Jim, don't talk that way. Of course you're going home. I can't face them, Mr. Keene. Why not? You haven't been guilty of any crime. You've acted a little foolishly, I think. But then, so has Mary, your wife. With our dreams, they've all gone sour. And our cottages turned out to be just a house of cards. What have I to live for? Jim, you're like a little boy who has lost his ice cream cone and thinks the world has come to an end. All of us have our dreams of one kind or another. Many are feathery and golden ones, just like yours. Why, we couldn't exist without them. But sometimes we have to sacrifice our hopes to help others attain theirs. And that's what's happened in your case. What do you mean, Mr. Keene? Mary didn't spend your savings as you thought for selfish reasons. She spent them on Helen. Helen? Yes. Your daughter has a fine singing voice. Something you didn't realize, Jim. And Mary wanted to give her the best musical education that money could buy. But if she'd only told me... Well, that's where she was wrong. She was afraid. Afraid you might not understand. And afraid if Helen knew the circumstances, she'd refuse to continue her studies. So that's the way it was. Yes. Jim, I... I believe you're going to have reason to be very proud of Helen. Well, here we are. Home. Yes. Home. That has a wonderful sound, hasn't it? Yes, Mr. Keene. It has. Mary! Oh, Jim, thank God you're home again. Helen, he's back. Dad is back. Oh, Dad, I'm so happy. If you only knew how we've worried about you... Come down there there, Helen. It's all right. Oh, Jim, it was all my fault. Can you ever forgive me? Don't worry, Mary. Mr. Keene explained everything. I guess I was a little foolish, too. You did exactly right about Helen. How can we ever thank you, Mr. Keene? Oh, yes. How can we? Don't try, my dears. My reward isn't seeing you all so happily reunited. But, Mr. Keene, I still don't understand. How did you manage to trace me? Well, it's a strange story. Strange and incomprehensible. Helen had a vivid dream about you last night. She dreamed you were in great danger. And from the mystic gropings of her mind, she saw almost an exact duplicate of the spot where you were standing. By following this lead, I was able to pick up your trail. That's amazing, Mr. Keene. And I've never been one to put any stock in dreams at all. No, I never did either. But it is an amazing coincidence. Suppose we call it just that. And now I must be going. Oh, wait, Mr. Keene. Helen has something to tell you. I won that audition, Mr. Keene. You won that audition? Good for you. And a contract to sing at the Metropolitan next year. Helen! Oh, Daddy, I'm so happy. Helen, darling, it all seems so wonderful. I can hardly realize what it means. I think it means, Jim, that you're going to have that cottage in the country after all. It's always a shock to meet someone whose nice appearance is suddenly shattered by a smile that reveals dull, dingy-looking teeth, or whose breath is unwelcome. And because many people are hampered by both of these handicaps without even knowing they have them, it pays to know about colonel's toothpaste. To help correct these conditions, when caused by improper cleansing, just brush your teeth with colonels, as you would with any other toothpaste, with this one exception. When you finish brushing, swish its rich, active foam thoroughly through your mouth. For colonels is one toothpaste with a mouthwash effect built right in. Thus it fosters a double result. First, colonels helps your brush remove ugly surface stains from your teeth. Then, at the same time, it freshens your breath while you're brushing your teeth. For a high-polishing, high-forming toothpaste with a mouthwash effect built right in, ask for colonels. It has been approved by thousands of dentists. If powder is your preference, try colonel's tooth powder. It offers the same double result as a wonderful wintergreen flavor. Get K-O-L-Y-N-O-S. Toothpaste or Tooth Powder. Tomorrow, buy colonels. You've been listening to Mr. Keen, Tracer of Lost Persons. On the air every Thursday at this time. Don't miss Mr. Keen next Thursday when the kindly old Tracer brings us another thrilling missing persons case. Gleaming floors in record time. Yes, no rubbing arrowax goes on quickly, dries in minutes, lasts for weeks. It polishes floors to a sparkling luster that makes rooms lovelier and saves frequent scrubbing. Only 25 cents a pint at any leading store. Get arrowax A-E-R-O-W-A-X tomorrow. Mr. Keen, Tracer of Lost Persons, will be on the air next Thursday at this same time. This is Larry Elliott saying goodbye for Mr. Keen and the Whitehall Pharmacal Company, makers of colonel's toothpaste and tooth powder. This is CBS The Columbia Broadcasting System.