 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, transcribed by the Signal Oil Company for New Years to enable the entire production staff of The Whistler to spend New Year's Day at home with their families. Signal the famous Gofather gasoline. Invite you to sit back and enjoy another strange story by The Whistler. For extra driving pleasure, the signal to look for is the yellow and black circle sign that identifies signal service stations from Canada to Mexico. And for Sunday evening listening pleasure, the signal to listen for is this whistle that identifies the Signal Oil Program, The Whistler. From 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. Evening stroll. Gossip. No matter how idly begun may often come to a violent conclusion. Its pernicious content can twist and distort the mildest of deeds until with a deadly force fed and made strong by repetition, its weight can smash lives. The venom of rumor gossip is always around. Defense against it is pitifully inadequate. And no one is immune. Not even Professor Malcolm Dunn on New Year's Eve, strolling across the darkened campus, puffing quietly on his pipe. At the moment he seemed pleased with the way things had turned out. The rather embarrassing session a few days ago with Dean Wilson was forgotten. And his thoughts were only of the future, his future at the university. At the library he paused, debated for a moment if he should turn here and take the shortcut home. Perhaps it was because he wanted more time to be alone. More time to savor the prospects of a bright future. That he decided against the shortcut, even though it was getting late, and continued along the treeline street. Entered the residential district of the university town. Oh, Miss Crandall, Miss. Hi. Mind if I walk along with you? Of course not. Isn't it a wonderful night? Yeah. Cool, Chris. Just think, in another few hours a new year will be with us. On your way to a little celebration? I just left one. Horribly dull, really. I may not even go back. Jerry's in one of those moods again. Uh, Jerry? Jerry Hayes. He's just a friend. He took me to the party. We had words. So you decided to take a walk? That's right. Professor? Yes? I heard Dean Wilson had you in for a long talk the other day. That's right, Midge. About me? About you. I'm sorry, I've caused you so much trouble. But I'm not sorry I ever fell in love with you. Midge, I'm old enough to be your... Oh, please don't say that. But you don't understand. Some things I do, Professor. For instance, this one-sided romance isn't any good. I've caused you nothing but trouble. I realize you can't afford to get mixed up with any of your students. It isn't as though I've given you any encouragement. True, we've seen quite a bit of each other. Oh, you've been very proper about the whole thing all along. It's my fault, all of it. I admit that, but I can't help it. I'm in love with you. It's very flattering, Midge, but... Still, you wish I weren't so obvious about the whole thing. Well... I've never once told anyone that you were in love with me. I believe you, Midge. But don't you see, there are some people who take a thing like this, gossip it around. The rumors begin to spread. First thing, there's a nice scandal. It's already started, hasn't it? I mean, that's why the dean wanted to talk to you. I don't mind telling you. That session with the dean was more than a little embarrassing. I'm terribly sorry. Well, it's all over now. I've explained everything to his satisfaction, I'm sure. All this hasn't ruined everything for you, has it? I mean, you're taking over the history department when Professor Ferris leaves next month. No, thank heavens. This new position is very important to me, Midge. To my wife, too. It means a great deal to both of us. It means a lot to me, too. I... I hope I'm around when it happens. What? What do you mean? I'm leaving the university. Oh, you are? Yes. Going to New York. The call of the theater, you know. The father has a friend who has a friend who's a producer. And, well, it'll be a small part to begin with. I'm sorry you're going to leave us. Are you? Really? Of course. But I'm certain you'll become a very great actress someday. Thank you. People say I'm acting all the time anyway. Here's my apartment house. Oh, I'll see you to the door. Oh, well, how do you like that? No key. I've locked myself out again. Sure it isn't in your purse there? Nope. Now, how am I going to get in? The house manager's at a party. Probably won't be home for hours. Well, you just can't sit out here all night. Isn't there some way we can... There is. My apartment's around back on the ground floor. The screen on the bedroom windows lose. Trouble is, I'm not very good at climbing through windows. If somehow you... Oh, no, I couldn't ask you. Well, when a lady's in distress... Oh, thanks, professor. We'll go in the front way here. The lobby door's always unlocked. You follow Midge into the apartment house, down the long corridor, and out to the back of the building. With little effort, you manage to remove the screen from her bedroom window, climb over the sill, and drop into the darkened apartment. Okay, professor. Right. The light switch is in the alcove. Straight ahead. I'll find it. I guess so. You forgot to warn me about the coffee table. I'm sorry. I'll be right in. You make your way slowly across the room, and finally find the light switch. You open the hall door, return to the window, and replace the screen as Midge steps into the apartment and closes the door behind it. You're a lifesaver, professor. Hurt yourself on the coffee table? Fractured a few bones, that's all. I'm sorry. Oh, and look, you've got dust all over your coat. No harm done. I wouldn't be too sure. Looks like a stain of some sort. Why don't you take your coat off, professor? I'll get some cleaning fluid. Oh, don't bother, Midge. No bother, really. It'll only take a minute. Well, all right. There we are. Just drop it on the chair there. Okay. Excuse me a moment, professor. Hello, Midge. Oh, Jerry. I'm sorry. I acted the way I did, Midge. I guess he had every right to walk out on me. Oh, I see you have company. Yes. Now, can't we discuss what happened at the party some other time, Jerry? Sure. Sure we can. I guess maybe I wasn't so wrong after all, huh? Maybe those rumors... Jerry, please. Okay. Good night. Night, Midge. Good night, professor Dunn. I'm sorry, professor, but Jerry, he's such a child. Midge, that quarrel you had with Jerry at the party tonight. Have anything to do with me? Well, yes, in a way. Look, he seems like a nice sort of chap. Why don't you call him back? No, no. I'll see him tomorrow. And now, do sit down, professor. Midge. Yes? Mind telling me something? Uh-uh. Did you really lock yourself out tonight? What do you think, professor? I think I'd better be running long. Good morning, Mrs. Dunn. We'll be ready in a moment. Fine. Say, I must have been asleep when you came in last night, Claire. How was the party? Oh, very nice. The Donaldson's was so disappointed you didn't come, but I explained you just couldn't. Good. You go to bed early? Uh, no. No, I work for a few hours. Then I went out for a walk. A long walk. By the way, Mrs. Dunn, how about a kiss for a happy new year for your husband, huh? A happy new year to you, professor. Now you sit down, read your paper. Oh, uh, Malcolm. Yes? Isn't Midge Crandall one of your students? Why, yes. She is. Her picture's there on the front page. What? Why, so it is. Someone shot her last night at her apartment. Shot her? Yes, they've taken her to the hospital. They don't know if she'll live or not. Now as this is New Year's Day, Signal Oil Company has asked me to skip the regular message about Signal Gasoline in order to bring you a few extra chuckles with these limericks. Mrs. Don Bonacquista of Phoenix, Arizona will start her new year with a $20 Signal Gasoline book for this limerick. Like the man on the flying trapeze, you can drive with the greatest of ease. If you'll only be smart and right from the start, say, fill it with Signal Gas, please. Signal, Signal, Signal Gasoline. Your car will go far with no further gasoline. Tonight's second $20 Signal Gasoline book goes to Mrs. Rod Duby of Kirtelaine, Idaho for this limerick. A man with a love for smooth driving found his car needed reviving. He tried Signal Gas, and now he can pass all road tests without even striving. Signal, Signal, Signal Gasoline. Your car will go far with no further gasoline. We regret that we couldn't start the new year for all of you with a $20 Signal Gasoline book, but we do hope that happy safe driving will fill your new year with miles of smiles. It's a shock, isn't it, Professor? Your hands tremble as you hold the morning newspaper. Stare down at the photograph of Mitch Crandall on the front page. The story is all there, the shooting at her apartment, and as you read through the first few paragraphs, you realize it must have happened only a short time after you left the girl's apartment. Your first impulse is to pick up the phone and call the police. Tell them you were with Mitch Crandall last night at her apartment, but suddenly you realize it won't help the police find the guilty person. It would only involve you as well as other innocent people needlessly. And after your conversation with Dean Wilson a few days ago concerning Mitch, the gossip about the two of you, you know you can't afford to become involved in the shooting. Somehow you manage to get through breakfast and then afterward you leave the house and go for a long walk. You need time to think, don't you? Perhaps in some way you can assist the police and help them find out who shot Mitch. Then as you're strolling along the walk in front of the science building, one of the students joins you. Say, Professor, you hear about the shooting last night? Uh, yes, yes, I heard about it, Bill. Oh, sure not me for a loop. I know Mitch pretty well. He's a nice kid. Tough. It's a real tough break. Yes, yes it is. Too bad that Simpson guy didn't get a better look at the man who was with Mitch. The Simpson? The witness. He was sitting in a parked car right across the street from Mitch's apartment, waiting for somebody. He told police he remembered seeing a man going into the building with Mitch. I... I see. I didn't give much of a description of the guy. Medium Bill, slender, well-dressed. Said he might recognize him if he saw him again, though. Well, here's where I turn off, Professor. See ya. Yes. Yes, of course, Bill. Happy New Year, Professor. Hey, Jerry! Wait up, fella! Jerry. The sound of that name spins you around, doesn't it, Professor? You watch Bill join another youngster. See them hurry across the campus toward the village. But he isn't the Jerry you're thinking of, is he? Suddenly you remember the young man who was at the door of Mitch's apartment last night. Jerry Hayes. The young man who saw you there with Mitch. And you wonder why he hasn't been to the police to tell them about it. May I speak with Jerry Hayes, please? Yeah, just a sec. Is Jerry Hayes there? Oh, yeah. Yeah, sure. Hold on. Jerry, this is Professor Dunn. I'd like to talk to you, Jerry. Where could we meet? The path at the far end of the athletic field in 10 minutes. Is that all right? It's a good question, Professor. Why didn't I go to the cops, huh? Suppose I ask you the same. Listen, Jerry. Sort of an embarrassing question, isn't it? Why haven't you told them that I was there in the apartment? Why haven't you? Something holding you back? Sure. And I know just what it is. Do you? Look, Professor, I don't want to get mixed up in this any more than you do. Why not forget about it? Suppose Mitch dies. That wouldn't be good. It wouldn't be good at all. But we'd keep our mouths shut. I didn't see you. You didn't see me. I don't know, Jerry. I... I don't think that'd be right. I don't think there's anything for you to worry about, Professor. According to the newspapers, the police haven't found any clear prints on the gun. Yes, Claire. That was quite a walk you took. I'm glad you're back home, Malcolm. There was a call for you. Oh? Dean Wilson's housekeeper called. Said to tell you he wanted you to come over. Uh, now? Well, she sounded like it was rather important. I... I see. Come in, Professor Dunn. Come in. Thank you, Mrs. Shaw. The dean is in his study. I'm sure he'll see you in a few minutes. The lieutenant shouldn't be with him much longer. The... lieutenant? Yes, Lieutenant Franklin. Police department. They're in there with Mr. Simpson. Simpson? He's the man who... The witness. Police think the man Mr. Simpson saw last night might be the one who tried to kill Midge Crandall. Oh, isn't it terrible, Professor? That poor girl. I understand. She's still in a coma. And, uh, thank you very much, Dean Wilson. You had to take up so much of your time. Quite all right, Lieutenant. Can't overlook anything, you know. Don't have very much to go on. Simpson here and I'll sort of roam around, if you don't mind. Oh, of course not. With luck, we might spot her. Quickly, you turn your back to them, Professor. Stare out the wind. You want to run, don't you? But your legs refuse to act. And you pray that Simpson doesn't notice you. Well, thanks again, sir. I mean, goodbye, Lieutenant. Now, let's go, Simpson. Afternoon, sir. Sorry to keep you waiting. I just got here a moment ago. Come in. Come in. Terrible business, that. Terrible. You heard Malcolm? I think the man who shot Miss Crandall is here on our campus. Yes, I heard. Any definite leads? No. Unfortunately, the witness Simpson hasn't been able to give a good description of the man he saw go into the apartment building with the girl. Does, uh, does Mr. Simpson think he can identify the man if he sees him again? He seems to think so. Yes. I, for one, certainly hope he's right. This thing must be solved, Malcolm. They've got to find that man. Yes. Yes, of course. Well, let's get on with it. I want to discuss several matters with you, Malcolm, about your new position. Hope you don't mind my calling you over today. Oh, of course not. And Professor Ferris will be leaving earlier than we expected. So it's important we get to these things as soon as possible. Yes, sir. For the remainder of the afternoon, you sit with Dean Wilson in his study. He's talking about your new position with the university, but your mind is none of it, Professor. You'll keep thinking about the police lieutenants and the witness Simpson. They're on the campus now, looking for the man who was with Mitch Crandall last night. And you wonder how long you'll be able to stay out of their way. Finally, when you leave the dean, your mind is made up. You've reached a decision, haven't you? Yes. And there's only one thing you can do. Hello, Professor. Come on in. No, no, thanks. I just stopped by to see if Jerry Hayes was in. Oh, no, no. He's down in the village. He'll be back soon. I see. Will you tell him I must see him immediately? It's very important. Oh, sure, sure, Professor. Have him come to my house. 423 Oak Road. Okay, I'll tell him. You've made up your mind, haven't you, Professor? Hiding from the police isn't going to solve anything. Instead of helping them, you're wasting valuable time throwing them off the track while a guilty person remains at large. At your home, as you wait for Jerry to arrive, the nervousness has gradually left you, hasn't it? You're strangely calm, ready to face whatever happens. Then as a battered convertible stops in front of your house, and Jerry steps out, you dial police headquarters and ask for Lieutenant Franklin. Lieutenant, I have some information. It's about the Midge Crandall shooting. Oh? Would you come to my house right away? 423 Oak Road. Malcolm. Oh, yes, Claire. What is it? Did I hear you just call the police? That's right. You said something about Midge Crandall. Excuse me. That's Jerry Hayes. I'll let him in. Malcolm, what's this all about? I'll explain in a moment, Claire. How are you, Professor? Come in, Jerry. Well, Mrs. Dunn. How are you, Jerry? How's Janet? I haven't seen her in ages. Oh, she's fine. Janet? Jerry's aunt is an old-school charm of mine, Malcolm. Never would have gotten into the university here if it hadn't been for the two of them, Professor. Guess I owe Janet and Mrs. Dunn a lot. I see. Now, Malcolm, what's this all about? Yeah, what's up, Professor? Jerry, I've called the police. They may not be leaving. I had nothing to do with the shooting, but... The police? Wait a minute. I thought we... It's no use, Jerry. I want you to tell them all you know about this Midge Crandall affair. Even that I saw your wife there? What? That's... That's right, dear. You mean you want me to tell the police I saw Mrs. Dunn come running out of Midge's apartment house last night? Claire. I admitted Malcolm. I was there. I was there. I was the one. New Year's Day is an appropriate day to take stock of one's blessings. So we of the Signal Oil Organization would like to take this opportunity to express our appreciation to all of you who have given us so much for which to be thankful. To you loyal Whistler fans, whose continued preference for Signal products has helped us grow from a small start in one state into an organization serving six western states, we are genuinely grateful. To independent Signal dealers, whose conscientious service has helped so much to keep customers and their cars happy, we are mighty appreciative. So that all of us in the Signal Oil family may continue to merit your friendship and your business, you can count on us to pursue our policy of making every Signal product and Signal service always finer and more complete. Throughout the new year, as for the past 19 years, we shall do everything in our power to make your stops at Signal stations, as well as your miles behind the wheel. Happy ones. It came as a staggering blow, didn't it, Professor? Your wife's admission that she had shot Mitch Crandall. Yes, you'd been afraid to get in touch with the police because it meant admitting that you had been there in the apartment yourself. And you knew it would start the gossip again and involve other innocent people. Yet finally, you decided to face the consequences. Tell the police that you were the man the witness Simpson had seen. So you would call Lieutenant Franklin, ask him to come to your house. Then too late, you learned that your wife, Claire, had shot Mitch. You've got to believe me, Malcolm. I swear, I didn't mean to do it. Claire, why did you go over there? I'd heard talk about you and Mitch. I just had to see her. But she admitted it was all wrong, her fault that she had been very foolish. Yes, but... she had shot you, and yet she couldn't have you. And then... then she picked up the gun. Malcolm, I didn't know what to do with the way she acted. I suddenly got the crazy idea she was going to kill herself. Oh, Claire, you don't know, Mitch. She was putting on an act. I had to stop her. And when I tried to take the gun away, it went off. Oh, Malcolm, I didn't mean for her to get shot. I wouldn't have harmed that girl for the world. But you ran. You left her. I got outside the door of the apartment before I realized she might die if I didn't do something. Then I heard someone running down the hall. I knew the shot had attracted attention, but she'd be found immediately. Malcolm, and the police. Look, Mrs. Dunn, they don't know you were there. You didn't mean to shoot, Mitch. We don't have to tell them a thing. Wait a minute. Jerry, suppose Mitch dies. No, you'd better let the police in, Malcolm. Good morning, Professor. Good morning, Lieutenant. Lieutenant, my wife, Jerry Hayes. How do you do, Lieutenant? Now, Professor, you said over the phone something about the... Yes, yes. Jerry here saw a woman hurry out of Miss Crandall's apartment house last night. A woman? Yes. So he saw a woman, and Simpson saw a man. But, but, Lieutenant... A lot of people went in and out of that building last night, but it doesn't mean a thing. What? Miss Crandall came out of her coma a few minutes ago. Oh, she's going to be all right. Oh, that's great. She's a wonderful girl. Yeah, and she was worried for fear we'd think whenever her boyfriends had done it. Actually, it was just another one of those... I didn't know the gun was loaded cases. Miss Crandall told us she shot herself by accident. That whistle will be your signal for the signal oil program, the Whistler. Each Sunday night at the same time, brought to you by the Signal Oil Company, marketers of signal gasoline and motor oil, and fine automotive accessories. Remember, if you would like the fun of having your friends hear a limerick of yours on the Whistler, the address to which to send it is the Signal Oil Company, Los Angeles 55, California. All limericks become the property of the Signal Oil Company. Those selected for use on the Whistler will be chosen by our advertising representatives on the basis of humor, suitability, and originality. So, of course, they must be your own composition. Featured in tonight's transcribed story were Donald Woods, Barbara Eiler, Mary Lansing, and Gil Stratton Jr. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen, with story by Steve Hampton, 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 living or dead is purely coincidental. Remember, at the same time next Sunday, another strange tale by the Whistler. On behalf of Signal Oil Company and the independent dealers who serve you, I want to express the hope that you have enjoyed your holidays and that your new year will be filled with peace, prosperity, and the good health with which to enjoy the many blessings in the good old USA. Marvin Miller speaking for the Signal Oil Company. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.