 John Wund as Johnny Duller. Bill Wesley, Johnny. What do you know about oil wells? Well, I know I wouldn't mind owning one. Why? We've written a floater policy on drilling rigs for the Van Oosterhout Oil Company in Samatra. $60,000 worth of equipment was destroyed last week and route to their new test field. Is there something wrong with this? We're willing to pay off. Oh, so why call me? Well, that's a twist, Johnny. Van Oosterhout doesn't want the money. What does he want? Our best investigator for three weeks. Why? He didn't say. Do you know these oil men probably just rich enough to want to satisfy some idle curiosity? Yeah, well, I'm just broken up to help them do it. We'll return to our program in a moment. But first, I'd like to talk to you about housekeeping. Recently, a woman was interviewing a prospective maid and asked her how she was on white housekeeping. Well, I'm sorry, ma'am, said the young lady. I'd never kept a lighthouse. I admit that's an old joke. But it generally gets a laugh. However, housekeeping is no joke. That's a job from which no one can escape, whether he lives in a house, an igloo, a military barracks, or a governmental building. Yes, housekeeping is a very important job, even in our government. Someone has to see that the plumbing doesn't leak, that electricity, oil, and coal aren't wasted, that the garden is kept in good shape, that the animals are fed, and that the people are the place outdoors in which to enjoy themselves. Actually, all these governmental household tasks are the work of the Department of the Interior, which at one time was called the Home Department. The biggest job of the Department is conservation, the protection of the things that make our country a good place in which to live. The land, water, oil, coal, forests, minerals, fish, and wildlife. These are our natural resources. If it weren't for the conservation work of the Interior Department, before too long, all the farm and grazing lands would be washed or blown away, and all the wildlife would disappear from our fields and forests. Another important job of the Department is the development of new natural resources and the caring for our national parks, where people are free to go sightseeing or set up camp. And during wartime, the Secretary of the Interior has a special job, namely making sure that sufficient oil and other fuels are available to our armed forces and defense industries. Yes, our governmental housekeeper, the Department of the Interior, has a most important and vital job in maintaining the competent welfare of every citizen of the United States. Expense accounts submitted by Special Investigator Johnny Dollar to Home Office Eastern Indemnity and Insurance Company of Hartford, Connecticut. The following is an accounting of expenditures during my investigation of the Carboniferous Dalamite matter. Expense account item one. $1,013.40. Airfare and incidentals between Hartford and Medan, Sumatra. Expense account item two, $1.50, cab fare to the offices of the Van Oost or Heart Oil Company. The roughly timbered shack with corrugated tin roof didn't spell rich oil man to me. Nor did Peter Van Oost or Heart himself. No doubt you are wondering why I propose such a strange agreement with your company, Minier Dollar. My question had occurred to me, yes. So, I will explain then. It's not because I am a rich man, but because I am a gambler. You're gambling $60,000 against what? An oil well, Minier Dollar. And I need your help to keep the game honest. And what kind of a game do you want to deal me in? My rigging equipment was being transported by truck to my test well north of Achin. It was buried beyond recovery by a landslide, one which I believe was caused by a deliberate nitroglycerin explosion. The game sounds rough. It is not the first thing that has happened. Drill heads have been dropped into the bore. Drilling shafts, sword and then welded so they would snap from the pressure. The list is endless. And you think your operations are being deliberately fouled up? It is not the slightest doubt in my mind. Any idea why? No, no Minier Dollar. I have not. What about the local authorities? Have you talked to them? I have. They have sent a man to the well to investigate. Well, then why sent for me? Because I suspect the government man is also working against it. I see. You said you wanted to be here for three weeks. Why the time limitation? My drilling permit from the government expires then. They do not renew. So, you're willing to bet $60,000 on my ability to keep your well going for three weeks, hoping you'll strike oil in that time? I am. Did you work with me, Minier Dollar? Why not? It's your gamble. We made arrangements to fly out to the oil well early the next morning, and Van Oosterhout dropped me off at the Buitensorg Hotel where I checked in. I put a call through to the government offices, but the man in charge of the Van Oosterhout matter, and Inspector Pajak, wasn't in. I left words that I'd called and hide myself to the hotel restaurant. I was having a little trouble with the native menu when I received some unexpected assistance. You won't forgive me, Mr. Dollar. Might I suggest you try the sambal going? I'd be happy to. What is it? The non-ingredients are right, fish and peppers. The unknown are the chef's secrets, and the sum total of them all is sheer gastronomical ecstasy. Well, the only thing that could tough that recommendation is for you to join me. I would be delighted, not to die, Mr. Dollar, merely to talk. By the way, I am Friedrich Van Oosterhout. Peter's wife? His daughter. Well, I would have guessed that, except for the third finger left hand. No, of course, my wedding band. Yes, I am Mrs. Don Reynolds now, but I wish to talk with you at Friedrich Van Oosterhout. Oh, why is that? Because I want you to persuade my father to change his mind and accept insurance money. You don't approve of his gamble? There is no gamble, Mr. Dollar. You're bound to lose everything. There's no oil there. What makes you so sure? My husband is an oil engineer. He's gone over my father's leases in every possible way. Geological survey, magnetometer, seismographic exploration. In every instance, the results have been negative. And what is your father's basis opinion on? Wishes, hunches, gambles, Mr. Dollar. He's like a madman about these things. All reason, all logic has been passed to the wind. Then why is somebody trying to sabotage the world? There are always accidents attended on any orderly project, Mr. Dollar. My father's has been brought about perhaps by the old equipment he's using. But they are accidents, nevertheless. There's not one shred of proof of anything else. You make out a pretty strong case for yourself. Then you will do as I ask. Try to persuade him. No, I'm afraid not. Your father's got a stronger case. Yes, of course. The $60,000 your company will save if he relinquishes his claim. Well, can you think of a better one? To me, a man's life is worth more than $60,000. Now you've lost me. My father has a weak heart. If I am right and the well-proofed dry, I'm afraid the shock will kill him. And what if he's right? Accidents can happen to more than machinery. A life could still be lost. Like mine, maybe? That was your thought, Mr. Dollar. Not a very happy one, was it? Just for the record, I did take Fred Rieker's advice on one thing, the sambal garang. And she was right about that, at least. It was delicious. With the arrangements to leave for the oil field at dawn, well in mind, I hit the sack early, hoping to get a good night's sleep. But somebody had different ideas. Mr. Dollar, are you in there, Mr. Dollar? Huh? Who's that? Inspector Parchart, Mr. Dollar. Open up, please. Okay, okay. Just a minute. Now, what's all this about, Inspector? I'm sorry to disturb your rest this way, Mr. Dollar. It was necessary, however, that I ask you a few questions. At two in the morning, you'll possess a firearm, Mr. Dollar. Oh, you should know. I registered when I came into the country. May I see it, please? Yeah, sure. Here it is. Thank you. Satisfied? That the magazine is full, that the gun is clean. I am satisfied with that. Yes. Well, that's something. Now, suppose you tell me what this is all about. You pay to visit to the offices of Peter van Oosterhout earlier this evening, Mr. Dollar. That's right. You also call my office to inquire about the van Oosterhout oil company in the test well that is being drilled north of Archie. Yeah. What was the caliber of the gun that killed van Oosterhout, Inspector? We believe it to be a 38 caliber, Mr. Dollar. The same as yours. But how did you know he was dead? Well, out of respect to those present, let's call it intuition. Shall we? Inspector Pajak maintained a discreet, if not very informative, silence during our ride out to the van Oosterhout oil company, Shuck. We all bought our way through a babble in the crowd of curious onlookers held back by Indonesian police and moved inside. You see, Mr. Dollar? Yeah. Any idea of when it happened? I thought perhaps you could give us that information. How did I become number one on your suspect list? It was Mrs. Reynolds' idea. Rodriguez? Yes. When informed of her father's death, she said that you were responsible, that you were the one who accused him. Well, it's just possible, Inspector, I didn't mean that literally. But only because van Oosterhout wanted me down here to check into possible sabotage. I'm willing to accept your reasoning for the time being. That's mighty nice of you. Mr. Dollar, I would like to know if there is anything disturbed in the office. Anything different from the way you saw it last? Well, only those metal canisters on the floor over there. We know about those. They contain test boardings taken from the van Oosterhout well. They were taken this evening by Mr. Don Reynolds. Van Oosterhout's son-in-law? Yes. He brought them here to the office. That is how he discovered the body. It must have been pretty important for him to fly a man at this hour of the night. According to Mr. Reynolds, they indicate that the well is almost certain to prove Jai. But where is Van Oosterhout? He is really his wife, of course. He had broken down completely at the news of her father's death. Uh-huh. So, that will be all then for now, Mr. Dollar. You've had your long journey to the waterfall, nothing, eh? What makes you think so? Those test boardings prove that Van Oosterhout was possessed of a delusion. With his death, any reason for pursuing it is obviously over. Well, there's something else that's not quite as obvious, Inspector. And what is that, Mr. Dollar? Why, he was murdered. One of Inspector Pajak's men drove me back to the Buitensorg Hotel, where the night clerk put an end to the hopes I had for more sleep that night. He had a message for me to call Don Reynolds the minute I got in. I put in the call. Hello? This is Johnny Dollar. Oh, yes, Dollar. Glad you called. You going to be at your hotel for a little while? Well, that depends. On what? On what you want to come over here to talk to me about. Suppose it's a tell you who killed Van Oosterhout. Why? I'll be here. And now with our star, John Lund, we bring you the second act of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. He took Don Reynolds exactly seven minutes by the clock to get up to my hotel room after his phone call. He wasted his little time getting directly to the point. I'm pretty sure I know who killed Van Oosterhout, Dollar. And why? But it's going to take a lot of doing to prove it. Why come to me instead of Inspector Pajak? Well, I'm not interested in having an official whitewash of murder. That doesn't sound as though you have a very high opinion of our friendly Inspector. Let's just say I don't want to take any chances on possible official collusion. Uh-huh. Well, what have you got? Ever hear of Sunga Tabaran? No. Should I have? He's a wildcatter like Van Oosterhout was. Two years ago, they tangled over some oil leases. When the courts decided in Van Oosterhout's favor, Tabaran swore he'd been cheated. That he'd get eaten. Well, if he meant it, he waited a long time to make good. He went to Java on business about then, came back here just about the time Van Oosterhout began to suspect someone was trying to sabotage as well. That's pretty circumstantial, Mr. Reynolds. There's nothing circumstantial about the fact that Tabaran's the oil expert in Inspector Pajak sent out to the well to check on Van Oosterhout's story. Oh, so that's the reason for your official collusion crack. Yes, it is. And there's nothing circumstantial about the fistfight that two of them had a couple of days ago when Van Oosterhout openly accused Tabaran and told him you were coming out to check up on things. Oh, that sounds interesting. I can top it for you, darling. With what? Tabaran's here in Medan. He flew in from the well late yesterday afternoon. I'd say he arrived approximately two hours before Van Oosterhout was killed. What do you think now? Might pay to have a little talk with him. At this point in our program, I'd like to give you something to think about. Probably one of the most quoted Americans in our nation's history is Benjamin Franklin. It was Franklin who said, early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. And never leave that till tomorrow, which you can do today. And, of course, the Lord helps them that help themselves. But probably one of his most familiar quotations is, there are only two things in life of which we may be certain, death and taxes. Of course, what bothers most of our taxpayers is that death and taxes don't come in that order. But seriously, one of the biggest jobs handled by the Secretary of the Treasury is the collection of taxes, our government's main source of income. The government raises money through the Bureau of Internal Revenue, which collects income taxes, excise taxes, amusement taxes, and other federal taxes. The Bureau also checks to see that you haven't paid too little, and, believe it or not, that you haven't paid too much. Another way the government raises money is through the Bureau of Customs, which levies taxes on imports which are sent here from foreign countries. But although the Treasury Department collects the money, it is Congress, the men we send to Washington, who actually says who will pay taxes and how much. And that's one thing from which none of us can escape. Spencer County, I'm $3.65. Cab fare to the residents of Sunga, Tabaran. It was a small modern bungalow nestled in some gently rolling hills at the edge of town. The folk dawn was just starting to light up the eastern sky when I got there. Are you Sunga, Tabaran? That is correct. My name is Daller. I'm an insurance investigator. I'd like to talk with you. I'd like to talk with you about the hour at which one makes either social or business calls, Mr. Daller. Well, murder isn't very particular about the hours at Keith's. If you would please come in. Thanks. I noticed you're up and dressed, Mr. Tabaran, in spite of the early hour. You said you had come here to speak about murder, Mr. Daller. I understand that you and Van Oosterhout had some pretty violent disagreements in the past. Unfortunately, that happens to be true. Does Inspector Project know about that? I have no secrets from my superior. Does he also know that you flew into Medan yesterday afternoon? My dear Mr. Daller, you realize as well as I that these questions are quite pointless. Even if I did possess any guilty knowledge concerning Van Oosterhout's death, you could not hope to learn it this way. Well, maybe I'm just not right. I'm afraid I cannot accept that. Thank you. I came here to talk with me. To look around, to try to judge, to measure. Hoping perhaps I would make some slip unconsciously reveal some information which might be useful to you. Yeah, that sounds like a reasonable supposition. It is regrettable then that I must disappoint you. There will be no slips, no unconscious revelations. I'm sorry. Oh, that's okay, Mr. Tabaran. You haven't heard my feelings. Oh, by the way, extend my condolences to Frederica, would you? And tell her I'm glad she's getting over her bereavement so well. I'm afraid I do not know what you are referring, Mr. Daller. I said nothing about Mrs. Reynolds. You didn't have to. You just forgot to remove her handbag from that table. The question of what Frederica was doing in Sunger Tabaran's bungalow at that hour of the morning was an interesting one. But there were a few others bothering me even more. Expensive on item four, seventy-five cents. Precarious transportation aboard a bicycle rickshaw to the deserted offices of Venus to Houtoil Company. Expensive on item five, one dollar, similar transportation back to my hotel where a visitor was waiting for me in the otherwise empty lobby. One moment, please, Mr. Daller. Oh, hi, Inspector. Something on your mind? I wish you to stop interfering in affairs that are no concern of yours but only of the police. Well, it didn't take Tabaran long to call you after I left. Sunger Tabaran is one of my most trusted men. Looks like Frederica Reynolds feels the same way about him. Mr. Daller, you are in a strange country. One whose habits, customs, ways of life are entirely foreign to you. It would be most easy to fall into error concerning the guilt or innocence of some of its inhabitants. Well, I'd agree with you except for one thing, Inspector. So, they're still people. A tempered shower and a similar breakfast occupied my time until the town of Medan awoke to the new day. Then I walked down the street to the shop I'd noticed the night before belonging to one hair-de-grute, oil geologist. It took the grute all of thirty seconds to look at the specimens I'd pilfered from Venus to Houtoil's office the night before, rubbed them between his fingers, and come up with a pronouncement. Yeah, yeah, there's no question. These test borings, they are from the Venus to Houtoil's number one well. And you've seen specimens like these before? But, of course, I have, young man, many times. They are composed in increasing density of a carbonate of calcium and magnesium formed during the carboniferous era of the Earth. In other words, what we have here are specimens of carboniferous dolomite. Cobb, I'll take your word for that. Just tell me what it has to do with oil. But it has everything to do with it, young man. Under just such a rock strata, these lie some of the greatest oil fields in the world. So the chances of the Venus to Houtoil hitting such a pool should be pretty good, huh? I would say it would be virtually impossible for it not to hit oil from 100 to 500 feet in depth below the strata. Any idea why Venus to Houtoil wasn't informed of this? Not informed, but it must have been. Why is that? These tests forings have been brought in regularly by Venus to Houtoil's son-in-law, Manuel Ernst. Why should he not have told him? The group added another good question to my list. So I called Reynolds to find out, but there wasn't any answer. I got the same result with a call to Shinga Tabaran. Well, I had better luck with the dispatcher's office at the airport. That seems quite right, Mr. Dala. Mr. Tabaran filed a flight plan for the Fun Ooster Houtoil and took off approximately an hour ago. What about passengers? Oh, one passenger is listed. Hey, Mrs. Frederica Reynolds. No, Mr. Reynolds? Well, he took off for the world property also, Mr. Dala, in a company plane. He was given runway clearance not five minutes ago. Now, one more thing. Do you happen to know what time Reynolds came in last night? Which of Mr. Reynolds' flights do you mean, Mr. Dala? There was more than one? Oh, yes, two. This is the first time your wife here is surely at the dock. I can look up the exact time for you if you wish. No, that won't be necessary. Granting your information is correct, Mr. Dala. What is it you wish me to do about it? Oh, look, Inspector, it's about time you stop being coy. You must have some or all of this information. And if I have? Then you know it adds up to one murder and maybe two more. I do not understand, Mr. Dala. I knew from those secret test-boring that Van Oosterhardt was going to hit oil. That would seem most logical, yes. So if he could stop the well for three more weeks, the drilling permit would run out. Van Oosterhardt would be through and Reynolds could file for one of his own and bring in the well himself. Then you are accusing Mr. Reynolds of deliberately withholding information from his father-in-law of sabotaging his drilling operation. And of killing Van Oosterhardt. But why should he have done that? Somehow the old man must have learned the truth from those test-boring we found in the office. If what you say is true, Mr. Dala, we shall secure the proof we need in good time. Why did Tabaran and Frederica leave for the well? The death of her father brought some suspicions to Mrs. Reynolds' mind. She went to discuss them with Tabaran. Perhaps there is some proof out there at the well and they intend to bring it back. Reynolds took off for the well ten minutes ago, Inspector. What happens if there's another accident and Frederica and Tabaran never get back? A plane will be ready at the airport by the time we get there, Mr. Dala. The Van Oosterhardt well was approximately 100 miles northwest of Medan. When we sat down, both the company plane and Tabaran's were on the landing strip. The drilling rig was motionless, surrounded by high mounds of pumped-out mud. The entire area looked deserted. It is impossible they could not have heard us arrive. Where is the rigging? Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds and Tabaran. Well, there are not many places there could be. Punk house, construction shack, powder house. Perhaps we had better try the office first. You know, it is quite possible that... Hey, there's Reynolds coming out of the powder house. We've got a nitro tube in his hand. Nitro? But what would he be doing with nitroglycerin? Maybe we'd better find out. Reynolds? Thank you, project. Just in time to see the fireworks. Are you going to shoot the well? Yeah, that's right. Drill struck a layer of igneous granite, broke off in the shaft. I'll drop this down and try to blast it loose. Where's the rigging crew? Back in the jungle. Had to get them out of the possible blast area. Never can tell about these things. What about Mrs. Reynolds and Tabaran? They went along with them. There are two of you better get back there, too. What sample of protectors? Well, maybe so, but sometimes these things crack an awful wall. This one's not going to Reynolds. What do you mean? Put down that nitro and come over here with your hands up. Are you crazy, darling? I'm going to blow that well. Mr. Dollar, why have you drawn your gun? You make a break for that well, Reynolds, and I'll shoot. Better do something about him, Inspector. He must have lost his mind. Put away that gun, darling. I'm telling you for the last time. Put the nitro down and come over here. Okay, darling. But I can't figure it. If you think I'm going... He's running towards the wave. Don't try it, Reynolds. Back of the mud, Inspector. Get back. What are you going to... Dollar, your shot, he exploded the nitro. I guess it did at that, Inspector. But, Reynolds, it was the same as committing murder. Now, let's say I prevented a couple, Inspector. Revented? If Reynolds had blown the well with that charge, he'd have destroyed the rigging. And that tool shack under it. And what if it had? Neither Mr. Reynolds, nor Tab around, is anywhere around. You better take a look at the door sill of that shack. The door sill of the... Mr. Dollar. Yeah, that blonde head lying inside there isn't carboniferous, dolemite. Expense account item 6, $23.15, hotel bill and miscellaneous. Expense account item 7, $1,032.60, airfare and incidentals back to Hartford. Account total $2,074.05. Remarks? The trip home didn't seem half as long as the walk we made to the tool shack to see if Frederica and Tab around were still alive. As it turned out, they were. If they hadn't been. Well, I guess I just wasn't cut out to be a gambling man. Here's truly, Johnny Dollar. This comes to you through the worldwide facilities of the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service.