 The Linux show starring Nick Carter, master detective, presented by ACME, America's great producer of fine quality paints. This is the story of a man known the world over as one of the most daring and resourceful characters in the history of detective fiction. A man whose name has become a symbol of the triumph of right injustice over the sinister forces of crime and lawlessness. A man recognized as one of the great masters of deduction. Nick Carter, master detective. Today's exciting case, The Vanishing Postman. Another exciting chapter dramatized from the life story of Nick Carter. In just a moment, we'll hear how Nick Carter investigated a baffling seven-year-old crime and solved a murder through the eyes of a blind man. There's no time of year when a busy homemaker needs cool, leisurely relaxation more than during the summer months. And you can have that kind of relaxation when you do your homemaking the easy Linux way. Just follow the example of wise American homemakers everywhere who have learned the magic shortcut to household care. Those three great Linux home brightness. Linux clear gloss, the modern brush on finish. Linux cream polish for fine furniture. And Linux self-polishing wax, the amazing new quick-drying wax product. Start now to enjoy extra relaxation every day. Enjoy that added leisure in a home that's sparkling with bright new beauty. Just ask your hardware, paint or department store for the three great Linux home brightness and save time the easy Linux way. And now for today's exciting case from the life of Nick Carter. Rain has rolled in across the great city again today. The black skies thunder and crackle with lightning. The streets are glossy and slippery as glass. As Nick and Patsy drive homeward in the detective's powerful car, a torrent of rain beats against the windshield when suddenly... Nick, look out! That car! Oh. You all right, Patsy? I... I guess so. Oh, golly, I was scared. Lucky we went into this alley when we skidded off the street. Yes, and lucky that pile of rubbish cushioned the crash. Might have had a bad crack up. Hey, wait a minute. What is it? When we smacked into that rubbish pile, we uncovered an old leather pouch lying underneath. Hey, you'll get soaked, Nick. It's an old postman's bag, Patsy. Falling to pieces. That's a bin here for ages. Oh, Nick, come on back. And there's mail in this bag. Letters. Hello. It's a name printed on the strap. Our... your draper. Well, probably the name of the postman. Look at these letters, Patsy. The postmark, August 1938. 1938? But... then this bag's been lying here seven years. Hey, look here, Patsy. What, Nick? The buckle from the strap has fallen to the pouch. There's a bit of metal wedged in the buckle. Looks like a lump of lead. Well, it's sure it happens to be a bullet. Well, let's get over to the post office at once. I'm afraid the explanation of this undelivered mail may be murder. Ah, Patsy, mystery. I found that postman Robert Draper vanished seven years ago. And that the police and postal authorities believe him to be guilty of theft because a registered parcel containing $10,000 in securities also vanished at the same time. Oh, Nick, he stole them? Theft can't account for that bullet we found wedged in the buckle and the pouch, Patsy. Oh, no, no, I suppose not. For seven years, Robert Draper stood convicted of theft. Well, I'm going to find out whether he's guilty. But how are you going to dig up evidence in a case that happened seven years ago? I'm going to get special permission from the postmaster to deliver this mail that should have been delivered seven years ago. Well, we've learned nothing so far in the first 47 letters we've delivered. Perhaps we'll have better luck here with the 48s. Yes? Are you Betty Barnes? Yes. I'm Nick Carter. This is my secretary, Patsy Bowen. Nick Carter? Oh, please come in, Mr. Carter. Thank you. I have a letter here for you, Miss Barnes. Oh, sorry. I have a letter that should have been delivered seven years ago. Seven years ago? I'd better explain. You see, seven years ago, the postman who served this district disappeared. His name was Robert Draper. What's going on here, Betty? What's going on here, Betty? Dan, it's about Pop. What? Well, he... Great Scott. Don't tell me that Draper was your father. Yes. Now, look here. We fought that case seven years ago. There's no sense raking it up again and making out Betty's dad was a crook. Pop never stole? Why should he? He'd saved $12,000. He had plenty of insurance, $20,000. Miss Barnes, please. I'm not trying to convict your father all over again. I'm trying to find out what really happened. But you'll have to help me. Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Carter. Now, tell me. What happened on that last day? Well, Pop left in the morning. You see, he lived with us. He always used to drop in at home for lunch. The day he disappeared, he just never showed up for lunch. When Dan came home that night, I sent him out to... Yes, I went out to check up Mr. Carter. They said he never returned to the post office, and that's all we know. We never saw dad again. I see. Mrs. Barnes, you have a picture of your father I might have. I'll get him one, honey. You know, Mr. Carter, it was on my birthday that Pop disappeared. Oh, how awful, Mrs. Barnes. Here's one, Mr. Carter. He's not in uniform, but it's the best we've got taken a week before he disappeared. Thank you. I'll let you know how we make out. Oh, yes. Here's your seven-year delayed letter, Mrs. Barnes. What? Oh, Dan, look. It's a birthday card from Pop. It says... Happy birthday, daughter dear. Best wishes on this day. My heart would always find you near. So I went miles away. Oh, Pop. Pop, darling. But, Nick, we've delivered 17 letters since we left Mrs. Barnes and that one of them knew a thing. It's all right, Betsy. We're not doing badly at all. We've got a picture of Draper and we know we had no motive for stealing those securities. Somebody else in this trailer letters will help us along further. Well, this one's for Ben Kramer, care of Kramer's garage, 118 Land Street. This is it. Let's go in. Mr. Kramer doesn't seem to be wrong. Now, wait a minute. Now, I hear voices back there. Come on. What do you want me to do? You already got back double what you loan me. Now, just give me a break, Shelly, please. That's all I ask. Ben Kramer, will you? I collect what's coming of me. But I can't keep on paying. It's breaking my back. I'll break your back if you try to. Well, Kramer, I give you the place before you took my dough. One for ten a week. I can't do it, Shelly. I don't like you a true gentleman, but I'd like some information. Oh, yeah, wise guy. Nick Carter's the name. Nick Carter. Hey, Kramer. No, no, no, honest. Honest, Shelly. Nick, what's going on? Nothing, lady, nothing. I'll be going, Kramer. I'll see you later. Nick, what's going on here? It's obvious Mr. Kramer's been caught in a loan shark racket, something pretty well known to the police, but something that can't be stopped until the victims are willing to give evidence. What was that one for ten they were talking about? Mr. Kramer pays a dollar a week for every ten he borrowed, right, Mr. Kramer? I... I don't want to talk about it, Mr. Carter. It ain't safe. If I could only just lay my hands on $1,500 and get out from under... Mr. Kramer, we've got a letter for you. It's seven years old. Seven years? That don't make no sense. This letter was mailed to you, but never delivered because something happened to the postman, Robert Draper. Remember him? Dra... Oh, yes, yes, of course. A friendly little fella. Blue eyes he had, bald. He wore a handlebar mustache. A handlebar mustache? Yeah, yeah, I even remember the day he scrammed. A hacky who used to keep his cab in my garage. He saw Draper. He drove him and another guy someplace. Yes, go on. Where was he driven? Who was the man? Oh, no, no, leave me think, Mr. Carter. It was such a long time ago. I can't even... Kramer, I want the name and address of that cab driver. Well, let him... I remember now. It was... Someone's fired from the garage door. Yes, Kramer's been hit. Oh, but Nick, the killer. You've got to get Kramer's evidence. The killer can wait. Patsy, get to a phone. Call an ambulance quick. Right. Me bad. Kramer, listen. Can you hear me? Who drove with Draper in the cab? Oh, no. Where'd they drive? Shelly's pulling, Ali. The thug we just met, huh? Good. Carter, do me a favor. Anything you say, Kramer. That seven-year-old letter. Read it to me. Certainly. Mr. Ben Kramer, dear sir. We are happy to inform you that your contribution is one second prize in our slogan contest. And clothes, please, find money orders totaling $1,500. That's just where Mr. Kramer needs to pay off. Mr. Kramer doesn't need any money anymore, Patsy. Oh. He's dead. Birthday greetings, seven years old. And now murder from a delayed mail delivery. What new and strange developments will arise from Nick's odd mission? We'll see in just a moment. The wisest worker is the one who saves as much work as possible, yet gets the job done. That's efficiency. And the efficient way to take perfect care of your floors and linoleum is to depend upon Linux self-polishing wax. Try it just once and prove to your complete satisfaction that here is the ideal way to new beauty for your floors. It takes only a jiffy to wipe Linux self-polishing wax on any hardwood, linoleum, or rubber tile floor. And it dries without tiresome rubbing to a handsome luster. You'll notice that Linux self-polishing wax gives that satiny beauty only real wax can give. You'll find when you step on that floor that Linux self-polishing wax is the anti-skid finish for your floor will be less slippery than it was to start with. This fact has been proved by the underwriters' laboratories. And you'll be delighted with the way the finish lasts. For Linux self-polishing wax has the highest possible content of genuine carnauba wax. Yes, this new formula, developed by leading research chemists to give you the finest, is well worth trying. And once you've tried it, you'll follow the example of all those wise American women who use it regularly. So ask your dealer now for Linux self-polishing wax for all three great Linux home brightness, the modern shortcuts to household beauty. And now back to our story. Investigating the strange disappearance of Robert Draper, postman, accused of absconding with registered securities he was carrying, Nick and Patsy pick up the trail of the old mystery by delivering mail found in the postman's abandoned pouch. Now we find them in the street after the sudden murder of one of their witnesses. After the homicide squad to arrive? Oh, no. Sergeant Matherson will only hold us up, call us material witnesses and all that. Now I want to get on with the case. At the Shelly Bowling Alley? No, not yet, Patsy. We haven't enough evidence for a direct frontal attack on Mr. Shelly. Let's get on with the mail delivery. There are more clues waiting for us to pick them up. Who's next? A postcard address to Mr. Parker Flint, Homeward House. Homeward House, huh? That's the exclusive apartment house in the corner facing the river. Come on, let's see what Mr. Flint can tell us. Good afternoon, Mr. Flint. Your butler said we'd find you here in your aviary. Oh, uh, good afternoon. You've got a charming place here, Mr. Flint. Yes, sir. I'd like it. I suppose I look silly, pottered around the glass house filled with a lot of birds, but, well, I like it. Let's step into my living room. We can talk better there. We won't keep you from your hobby long, Mr. Flint. Let me introduce myself. I'm Nick Carter. This is my secretary, Patsy Boone. Get out of here. Pardon? Get out of my house. Mr. Flint, you... Now, let's get this straight. I hate police. I'll have nothing to do with police anywhere, anytime. Now, get out! Nick, what on earth is... Wait, Patsy. Parker Flint. Thought that name sounded familiar? Yes. I remember Parker Flint III. Tried and convicted of second-degree murder seven years ago. Oh, you remember, eh? You're so happy to remember that Parker Flint III by grandson is serving a life sentence in state prison right now. I do. And will your capable memory recollect that he was innocent? That he was convicted on clumsy circumstantial evidence that would have made an idiot laugh? What do you mean? Young Flint claimed he was on a walking tour across the country. The murder of an enemy of Parker's was committed August 30th, 1938, in this city. And on that day, he was 50 miles outside town in the village named Samson. The defense couldn't prove it, Mr. Flint. So they convicted him. Not because he was guilty, but because they hadn't anyone else. Make an example, they scream. Show their son the same justice for rich and poor alike. Eh, they made an example, all right. Then you'll be interested in the case I'm working on, Mr. Flint. Another man runs the risk of unjust convictions. I'll have nothing to do with the police. Go on, get out. But Nick's not a police. Mr. Flint, justice sometimes miscarries. Men are wrongfully convicted in sentence. There's a human factor in law that can't be avoided. I've made it my job to prevent that factor of human error as far as possible. I'll help you with your case, Mr. Flint, but you've got to help me with mine. Eh, well, what is your case? It's your old postman, Robert Draper. Draper, oh, I remember him well. Knew him well, in fact. Supposed to have disappeared about seven years ago. Supposed? Yes, he did disappear, though. I saw him around this neighborhood seven weeks afterwards. Actuses suspicious, though he was hiding, had his head wrapped up in a turban. A turban? Ah. Yeah, what's more, he seemed to be afraid of someone called Gray. Seemed to see this Gray everywhere. Gray, huh? It's interesting. Very interesting. Anything else that might help? No, no, no, no, that's all. And now, Mr. Carter, about my case, I'm sorry I lost my temper, but you'll understand, don't you? Do you think you could offer any hope or anything? Yes, Mr. Flint. I can give you more than hope. I'll give you back your grandson. Oh. In the form of this postcard that should have been delivered seven years ago. A postcard? From your grandson. Sent from the village of Samson, New York. Postmarked August 30th, 1938. Oh, thank you. Which proved he was very claimedy-wise. Congratulations, Mr. Flint. This is the one piece of evidence. That'll free him. Yeah. Well, Nick, how do we stand? Any closer to the vanishing postman? Yes, indeed, Patsy. Mr. Flint brought us a good deal closer. How so? That turban for one thing. It's very significant. And rapers fear of someone called Gray even more so. But we haven't come across anyone named Gray so far. Hold everything, Patsy. Here's our next up. Residents of Miss Jennifer West. Miss West's got a seven-year-old package coming to her. Let's hope we can trade it for information. Information, Mr. Carter, about our missing postman? Yes, Miss West. Well, I really don't know it. Oh, excuse me. Hello? Oh, hello, darling. No, no, you're wrong. It's the orphan benefit. No, no, the AT. I put you down for a box. No, certainly you can't get out of a tear. It's a worthy cause. Yes, yes, all right, bye. Now, let's see. Where were we? You were going to tell us what you remember about Mr. Draper's disappearance. Oh, but I don't know anything. I don't even remember him. Well, here's a photograph of him. Hmm. I'm sorry. It isn't a bit familiar. But I have such a miserable memory for faces. And in my worth these days, I see so many. Day in and day out, child welfare association, the canteen, the city hospital, city hospital. Oh, I met the most interesting man there yesterday. He was in the psychiatric wing room 325. Oh, but Ms. West, we're the strangest disease. Monochromatism, they call it. And he's so cheerful about it. Monochromatism. Oh, it's a technical name for blindness of some kind. Such a nice man. His name was, his name was, it was Gray. Gray? Oh, Nick. I heard, Patsy, thanks a million for your help, Ms. West. And here's your reward. This long overdue package. Seven years overdue. Why? Why, that's Gary Horton's handwriting. Oh. Went upon a time, Ms. Byrne. I thought Gary and I might... Oh, well, you understand. Yes, Ms. West. But he's so very shy. And I... Oh. Oh, look, my dear. It's flowers. Artificial flowers. No, they're not artificial. That's a bouquet of live-forever flowers. And they're from Gary. Oh, here's a card. Dearest Jen, I've been wanting to ask you this for a long time. Never had the courage. Now I have. Will you... Oh, Ms. West, it's a proposal. Seven years ago. And he never knew I hadn't received. He thought my silence meant... Oh. Oh, excuse me, please. Uh, let's get out of here, Betsy. I have an idea that for the first time today, Ms. West's phone is going to hear her say yes. So now we're headed for Shelley's bowling alley, huh, Nick? Right. But why now? Why don't we hustle up and see that man gray? The one Draper was afraid of. You'll see. Here's where we stop. Let's go. Nick, what happened to the postman? Was he murdered by Shelley? Did Shelley murder Kramer, too? Come on, come on, come on. Golly, what a busy place. And there's our old friend, Mr. Shelley. Mm-hmm. Hello, Shelley. Mind if we have a chat? Now, look, don't come pussy-footin' around my place. She got nothing on me, Carter. Oh, that's what you think. Bluffin' ain't gonna do no good. Don't try and tell me Kramer thought. He knows better. Kramer can't talk. He was murdered. He was what? Murdered. Shot to death. You're lying. He was murdered in an attempt to keep me from uncovering the secret to Robert Draper's disappearance. Draper, the postman? This is a frame up, Carter. Still innocent, uh, Shelley? Well, suppose you come over to the city hospital with us. Oh, city hospital, eh? Now, I know it's a frame. I heard one of your plain clothesmen calling city hospital this afternoon, finding out the visitor now, getting a beautiful frame up all worked out, and from my own joint, too. What's that? I ain't taking courts on this, deal, Carter. I'm getting out of here. Nicky, he's running out. Aren't you gonna go after him? Patsy, what time is it? Uh-uh, five o' eight. And we've got five minutes. Visiting hour starts at eight at the hospital. Nick, what are you talking about? Never thought he'd go that far, Patsy. Come on. We've got to stop a visitor at the hospital tonight. Who? His name is Death. So fast, Nick. You can stop and rest. I've got to keep going. Well, off you go. Where are we headed? To the east wing of the hospital. It's a coyote. What time is it? Uh, two minutes after eight. We may have enough time, then. We're going to see that man, Gray, aren't we? Yes. Miss West said he was in room 325. Well, this is 315. 317. 319. Here we are, 325. Yes. It says on the card, monochromatic blindness. You can read the card later, Patsy. Inside, hurry. It's dark in here. Careful, Patsy. Ow! I just bumped into one of those rolling tables. Where's the light, Nick? Patsy, it's a killer. Get out of the way. Where's that rolling table? Here it goes, Patsy. I just got a neck. I heard the gun drop. Don't do the beginning, Patsy. But the beginning of the end for a... I found you, huh? Oh, Nick, careful. Oh, no. At least not without a gun. Oh, Nick, it's... There. Now. I doubt why still. Patsy. Yes, Nick? Try and find the light. Probably alongside the door. I've got it. Nick. You're sitting on Dan Barnes. Right, Patsy. Dan Barnes. Robert Draper's son-in-law. Barnes is a thief who robbed Robert Draper's mailbag of $10,000 worth of security seven years ago. It was Barnes who took for himself the $12,000 which Draper had saved up before he disappeared. And it was Barnes who hoped to collect 20,000 more in life insurance if Draper stayed lost seven full years so he could be declared legally dead. But... But that man in the bed... That's not to say man is in our picture. Nevertheless, Patsy, that unconscious gentleman, a near victim of suffocation at the hands of Dan Barnes, is our long lost postman, Mr. Robert Draper. In just a moment, Nick will be back to give you the final details of today's story and tell you how he was able to locate the vanishing postman. You know, fine furniture doesn't keep its good looks without help. Not when dust and finger marks and polish accumulation combine to lessen its beauty. But Linux Cream Polish disposes of all those bug bears in short order. For Linux Cream Polish actually cleans as it polishes, renewing your furniture's original handsome appearance in one quick process. Yes, Linux Cream Polish cut your job in two. Saves one whole step in your cleaning day routine. It even acts as insurance against future work. For Linux Cream Polish dries hard, leaving no oily film to attract more dust. So begin now. Get Linux Cream Polish and learn for yourself the modern way to caring for fine furniture. You'll find all three great Linux Home Brightoners, Linux Cream Polish, Linux Self Polishing Wax, and Linux Clear Gloss, the longer-lasting brush-on finish at hardware, paint, and department stores everywhere. And remember that your dealer is headquarters also for ChemTone, the miracle wall finish that lightens and brightens your home at an average cost of just $2.98 a room. ChemTone covers in one coat, dries in one hour. And now let's hear from Nick Carter himself. Nick, I still don't understand. What happened to Draper seven years ago? As I see it, here's the story, Betsy. Seven years ago, Draper met his son-in-law, Barnes, as usual, to go home and have lunch with him. Probably confided in Barnes that he was carrying both securities and a registered letter. Barnes is the only man Draper would have told, since the postman's job is highly confidential. Well, that's right. They don't go around telling strangers what they carry. All right. On some pre-texture, rather, Barnes lured Draper to the alley behind Shelley's place and shot him. And he took the securities from the bag and left. He thought he'd killed Draper, but the bullet only creased Draper's head, rendering him unconscious. Oh, then what happened? Draper recovered consciousness, struck with a wound, produced amnesia, and the wound itself produced a brain condition called monochromatism. That's day blindness. The victim can only see at night. By day, he's frantically blind and can only see vague shades of gray. So that's what Mr. Flint meant. That's it. And that's what the turban meant. Oh. It was Draper's bewildered attempt to bandage his head. For a few days, he wandered about days without memory, mumbling that he could only see gray. Finally, he was picked up and taken to the hospital. Barnes, who must have seen him wandering around in a day's condition, realized he was safe so long as Draper's mind was gone and Draper was lost to the public. So he decided to let matters ride and wait. And then we came into the case. Only, I can't understand one thing. Why didn't anybody identify the picture of Draper when you showed it to them? Because it wasn't Draper's picture. What? I realized that when Kramer told me Draper had a moustache, remember? Mm-hmm. He was alarmed when he learned we were on the trail. And cleverly handed us a photo of another person, hoping it would throw us off the scent. Oh. Then he followed us as we delivered the mail, waiting to see what would happen. And it was he who shot Kramer just as Kramer was about to give us the information we wanted. And when it became evident we were tracking Draper down, his hand was forced. And then he went to the hospital to try to murder him a second time. Right, Patty. Unfortunately, Barnes didn't realize that murder is bad medicine. It never cures anything. Not when you're around, Nick. Well, Nick, what's the story for next week? You remember the case of the frightened social director, Patsy, the man who scattered torn newspaper in preparation for a paper chase, and found... Oh, yes, I remember. The next morning when the paper chase started, they found that one of the trails was made of torn $10 bills. What are you going to call a case, Nick? The Factory of Death. And now a final word from Nick Cotter. And a very important word, too, Ken. Friends, right now there is no better thing you can do for the protection of America's future and your own than to buy United States victory bonds. And by all means, hold your United States war bonds. Help to keep America secure. Help to prevent inflation. Help in the transition from war time to peace time by buying and keeping your war bonds until they mature. And by buying those all-important victory bonds now. Nick Cotter, Master Detective, which is produced and directed by Jock McGregor, is copyrighted by Street and Smith Publications Incorporated. Lawn Clark is starred as Nick. Charlotte Manson plays Patsy. Original music is played by George Wright. Script is by Alfred Bester and any resemblance in these programs to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Nick Cotter, Master Detective, is presented at this time and over these same stations each week by the three great Linux home brightness. Linux self-polishing wax, Linux cream polish and Linux clear gloss created by ACME, America's great producer of ACME fine quality paints. This is Ken Powell speaking for the thousands of Linux dealers all over America and saying so long until next week. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System.