 And now, tonight's presentation of radio's outstanding theatre of thrills. Suspense. Tonight, the story of terror in the streets. We call it the whole town sleeping. So now, starring Miss Jeanette Nolan, here is tonight's suspense play written by Ray Bradbury. The whole town sleeping. It was a warm summer night in the middle of Illinois country. The little town was deep far away from everything. Kept to itself by a river and a forest and a ravine. In the town, the sidewalks were still scorched. The stores were closing and the streets were turning dark. Screen doors wind their springs and banged. And there was the sound of grandma Hanlon's swing hammock across the street. On her solitary porch, Levinian nebs, age 37, very straight and slimmed. Sat with a tinkling lemonade in her white fingers. Tapping it to her lips, waiting. Levinia turned. There was Francine at the bottom porch step. She was all in snow white and didn't look 35. I won't be a minute Francine. I'll just lock the door. All right, your dress, dear. Why, thank you, dear. You look so well in that color. I'm afraid I could never wear it. It makes me look sallow. No, it doesn't. I'm sure not. Of course, I've always loved you in white. Good evening, Mrs. Hanlon. Good evening. Where are you ladies going all dressed up so pretty? To the majestic theater, Mrs. Hanlon. Robert Mitchum's playing and not as a stranger. Won't catch me out on a night like this. Not with the lonely one strangling women. Lock myself in with my guns. That's what I'm going to do. I wouldn't worry, Mrs. Hanlon. What about Eliza Ramsell? You think she's not worrying? Lock myself in with my gun. That's what you ladies should do. So silly, silly old woman. Lavinia, you don't believe all that gossip about the lonely one, do you? A lot of silly old women who haven't got anything better to do than talk. Well, just the same. Hattie MacDollars was killed a month ago and Roberta Ferry the month before. And now Eliza Ramsell disappearing. Eliza Ramsell walked off of the traveling man, I bet. But the others strangle over Francine. They reached the edge of the ravine that cut the town in two. Stood there. Behind them were the lighted houses. Ahead, deepness, moistness, fireflies and dark. The ravine had to be crossed to reach the movies. Deep and black as it cut into the hills. Then a creaking bridge to cross over the stream. Then 113 steps up this deep and brambled bank to the other side. The ladies stood there, looking down. It won't be me coming back tonight, Lavinia. It'll be you. Oh, I'd never, never walk there alone at night. Never, Bosch. Well, you can say Bosch. But it'll be you alone on the path, not me. Oh, Lavinia, I do wish you didn't live on this side. Don't you get lonely living by yourself in that house? Old maid loved to live alone. Come on, we'll take the shortcut. I'm afraid. Oh, come on. Don't be so silly. I'll hold your hand. Lavinia, cool as mint ice cream, took the other woman's arm and led her down the dark winding path into cricket warmth and frog sound and mosquito-delicate silence. Oh, let's run, Lavinia, please. No. Why should we? If Lavinia hadn't turned her head just then, she wouldn't have seen it. But she did turn her head. And it was there. Back among a clump of bushes half-hidden, but laid out as if she had put herself there to enjoy the soft stars. Lay Eliza Ramseau, her face moon-freckled, her eyes like white marble. Then Francine saw it too, and the women stood on the path for a frozen second, not believing what they saw. Lavinia held Francine, and the policemen were all around in the ravine grass. Flashlights dotted about, voices mingled, and the night grew on toward 8.30. You, uh, didn't move her, ladies? Of course not. Oh, no, we couldn't touch her. How could we? And there was nobody. You didn't hear anything? Sounds, anything unusual? No, nothing. It's, it's the lonely one, isn't it? He did it, didn't he? Couldn't say, ma'am. We, we knew her, you know. She was a friend of ours. Oh, I'm sorry. Well, I'll have one of my men walk you across the ravine. That won't be necessary. Thank you very much. We'll be all right. Oh, Lavinia. Come along, dear. And they crossed the ravine, each with their own thoughts, fears, and the creek waters under the bridge whispered, I'm the lonely one. I'm the lonely one. I kill people. Then they were at the top of the stairs, and bathed in safe light from the street lamp. I've never seen a dead person before. It's only a little after 8.30. We'll pick up Helen and get on to the show. The show? Oh, Lavinia, you don't mean it. Of course I do. We've got to forget this. It's not good to remember. But Eliza's back there. We need to laugh. We've got to pretend that nothing happened. But she was our friend. We can't help her. There's no good brooding about it. I'm going to get it out of my mind, and you should too. Now if we hurry, we won't miss too much. If someone found Eliza Ramzell dead in the ravine. Found her? We don't know. Oh, how awful. Did you see her? Was it terrible? Let's not talk about it. Oh, I really think I should lock myself in my house. I don't think we better go tonight. Of course we will. It's the last showing today. Besides, the lonely one can't kill three ladies. There's safety in numbers. Anyway, it's too soon. The murders come a month separated. Come along, Helen. Well, I'll get a sweater. Why didn't you tell her about us finding Eliza? Why upset her? Time enough tomorrow. I told you, tonight we've got to forget. We're going to the show and let's not talk about it anymore. Enough's enough. The ladies walked downtown and stopped at the drugstore, which was a few doors from the theater. LaVenia bought a quarter's worth of green mint chews. And the drug has dropped the mints into a sack with a silver shovel. You look mighty cool this noon, Miss LaVenia, when you was in so cool and nice, someone asked after you. Oh? Yeah, a man sitting at the counter. He watched you walk out and he says to me, who's that? Just like that, he said. Why, that's LaVenia Nebb's prettiest maiden lady in town, I says. Beautiful, he says. Beautiful. Where she lives. You didn't, you didn't give him her address, I hope. You didn't. Well, maybe I shouldn't have. Oh, I didn't give him the exact address. I said over on Park Street, you know, near the ravine. Kind of casual. I'm sorry. What did he look like? Oh, not much, I guess, wore a dark suit, pale, kind of thin. Probably nothing but a stranger passing through. I'm sorry, Miss LaVenia. There's no charge for the peppermint. Don't be silly, Mr. Briggs. Well, I know what we're going to do right now. We're going straight home. That man asking after you, you're next, LaVenia. You want to be dead in that ravine? It was just a man. That's all. It doesn't mean a thing. That's what I figure. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about? I'm not going to miss the movie. You two can do what you want. I'm going. Well, I think we should all go home. So do I. She's right, LaVenia. No, she's not. Yes, she's not. Yes, she's not. They argued for five minutes, then the three of them went to the theater. Francine and Helen reluctantly. LaVenia head high, self-possessed, cool. In the auditorium, they sat in the order of ancient brass polish, waiting for the second show to begin. And the lights began to fade. As we came in, a man in the dark suit followed us. He was thin, and I think he had a pale face. He just came in, and he's sitting behind us. What? What? Oh, Helen. What man? A man behind us. It's the one Mr. Briggs said was in the drugstore behind us now. Oh, I'm calling the manager. It's him. Oh, stop the movie. Stop it. Put on your lights. The drugstore clocks at 11.25. They'd come out of the theater feeling new. And now they were laughing at Francine. And Francine was laughing at herself. You see how silly it was. All that riot for nothing. When you went running up the aisle, screaming lights, honestly, I thought I'd die. Oh, that poor man. The theater manager. He did apologize now. You see what a panic can do, and all for nothing. We shouldn't have stopped for sodas, though. Wasn't that a wonderful picture? Will you ever forget? The streets were clean and empty. Not a car or a truck or a person was in sight. The ladies walked under a flickering neon sign, buzzing like a dying insect. The sounds of their heels sharp on the big pavement. First we'll walk you home, Francine. Oh, no, I'll walk you home. If you walked me home, you'd have to come back across the ravine alone. I know you. If a leaf even fell on you, you'd dropped in. Well, I could stay the night at your house. No, it's all settled. First I'll take you home, and then Helen. Helen, stay here with me tonight. It's late, and Mrs. Murdock has an extra room. No, thanks. I don't sleep well away from my own bed. Oh, please, LaBritia, please. I don't want you dead. Now, you've got to stop this. I mean it. I promise I'll call you the very minute I get home. Now, will you? Will you really? I promise. And Helen, you make her promise you to call. I will. Well, good night. Be careful. Now, I'll walk you home. The courthouse clock struck the hour. The sounds went across a town that was emptier, emptier than it had ever been before. Over empty streets, and empty locks, and empty lawns the sound went. Don't suppose it's any use asking you to stay, LaVinia? There's no reason for me to. You've acted so strangely tonight. I'm just not afraid, that's all. And I'm curious, I suppose. Of course, I'm using my head. I mean, logically, the lonely one can't be around. Not now, the police and all. Did you ever think that maybe your subconscious doesn't want you to live anymore? You? Honestly, Helen! Well, I feel so guilty. I'll be drinking a cup of coffee just about the time you get to the ravine. Oh, that awful bridge in the dark. You will call it the minute you get home, won't you? I won't sleep a wink if you don't. I'll call. Now, good night. LaVinia Nebs walked down the midnight street, down the late summer silence. She saw the houses with her dark windows, and far away, she heard a dog barking. She thought to herself, in five minutes, I'll be safe at home. In five minutes, I'll be phoning Francine and Helen. They're so silly. Like old hens. Old. I'm older than either of them. I'm... She heard a man's voice singing away among the trees, and she walked a little faster. And then coming down the street, tore her in the dimming moonlight. Was a man. Look who it is. What a time and night for you to be out, Miss Nebs. Officer Kennedy. Oh, I'm so glad it's you. Is something wrong, Miss Nebs? No, nothing at all. I'm just glad it's you. You know you shouldn't be out now. I know. I've been to the movies. It is late. Yeah, come on. I better see you home. Oh, no. I can make it fine. Moon's going behind the trees. Be pretty dark. I'm not afraid of the dark, Mr. Kennedy. You sure you'll be all right? Quite sure. All right, I'll tell you what. I'll wait here till you cross. If you need help, just give me L and I'll come running. I'll check by your house later on my way back. Thank you. Good night. As she walked away, she thought... I won't walk in the ravine with any man. How do I know who the lonely one is? No, thank you. Then the ravine. She stood on top of the 113 steps. Down the steep bramble bank that led across the creaking bridge a hundred yards and up through the black hills to Park Street. Three minutes from now, I'll be putting my key in the house door. Nothing can happen. Nothing. She started down the dark green steps into the deep ravine night. Five, six, seven, eight, nine... The ravine was deep. Eleven. And the world was gone. Ten. The world of safe people in bed. The locked doors. The town. The drugstore. Theater. Lights. Everything was gone. Only the ravine existed. And lived. Black and huge around her. Nine. Is there... Remember that old ghost story you told each other when you were children? About the dark man coming into your house and you upstairs in bed. Now he's at the... coming up to your room. Now he's at the scene to the story. Now the hard man is at the 12th step. Opening your door. Now he's standing by your bed. There at the bottom of the steps. The man under the... He was waiting there. It's nothing. It's empty. It's nothing. Nothing on the bridge. Fool. Like long Mr. Kennedy. Did he hear me scream? Or did I scream? Maybe I only thought I did. Then he didn't hear me at all. I'll go back up. Go to Helen's and sleep there tonight. No. It's nearer home now. Be silly. Someone's... Following me. Someone's... On the steps behind me. I don't dare turn around. Every time... I take a step. He takes one officer. Kennedy. Is that you? Is it? The crickets were suddenly still. The crickets were listening. The night was listening to her. Then there was a sound. Only a woodchuck surely. Beating a hollow log. But it was Lavinia nebs. It was most surely the heart of Lavinia nebs. She went down the steps faster. Faster. Run. She heard music. In a mad way, a silly way. She heard the search of music that pounded at her. Rushed, punching her faster and faster. Down, down into the pit of the ravine. Only a little way. Cross the bridge. Run. Don't turn. Don't look. If you see him, you'll not be able to move. Cross the bridge of the path between the hills. The top of the path. The street. And even with the light, the fears swirled about her. Closing in. Pressing. If I get home safe, I'll never go out alone. I was a fool. I'll never again. If you let me get home for this, I'll never go again alone. I promise. Please try to get inside and lock the door. And I'll be safe. Oh, safe at home. Safe. Safe at home. Listen, not the sound. Nobody. There was no one following me at all. Nobody running after me. Silly. If a man had been following me, he'd have caught me. I can't run as fast as a man. I wasn't running from anything except me. The ravine was safer than sitting nice to be home now. Home's the really good, warm, safe place. The only place. She had just put her hand out to the light switch when she heard it behind her in the blackness. Just a movement. What? Paula Winslow, Eve McVay, and Bill Conrad in tonight's presentation of Ray Bradbury's The Whole Town Sleeping, adapted by Anthony Ellis. Next week, the story of a fishing cruise and bait that was a life insurance policy. We call it Over the Bounding Mane. That's next week on Suspense. Suspense is produced and directed by Anthony Ellis. The music was composed by Lucian Marowak and conducted by Wilbur Hatch, featured in the cast for Tom McKee, Florence Walcott, Tom Brown, and Will Wright. Tonight's The Whistler brings mystery on the CBS radio network.