 From Hollywood, it's time now for... Honey, dollar. Earl, poor man. I think it's in sunny Florida. I think I'll move to California. What? I mean, get away from this gracing insurance business as far as I can. You sound like you have a problem. I sure do. That's a problem? That's insurance on a policy bought in paper. Shin Pact, expense account. America's fabulous freelance insurance. Johnny, dollar. I'm incurred during my investigation of the double trouble matter. Expense account, item one, eighty-three twenty, plain fare and incidentals, Hartford to Tampa to Sarasota, Florida. Item two, a buck seventy-five for a cab to Earl, poor man's office in the Conroy Building. That's right. After waiting twenty years for this sole beneficiary to show up... Twenty years? Like I told you, the insured was Albert Skyler Kingman. Sixty-five grand. Yes, he was a widower, lived up near Elizabeth City, North Carolina. And he had a son named Henry. Henry was his sole heir in beneficiary of his policy. Okay, and you say that Kingman died twenty years ago? Yes, during that big hurricane back in 38, remember it? Did about forty million dollars damage up and down the coast? Earl, I was a mere child at the time. Oh, sure. How old was Henry? Well, he was ten, just a kid. Anyhow, it was several days before the old man's body was found. And the boy? No trace of him disappeared. In due course of time, because of the statute of limitations, the old man's estate was, well, I guess it went to the state. But not his insurance, huh? No, no. We kept the matter of the insurance open, company policy. Requires a lot of legal finagling, but in the company's history, they've turned up beneficiaries as much as fifteen, eighteen years after death. How? By advertising. And that's what accounts for the sudden appearance of two Henry Kingmans, each claiming to be the beneficiary of Albert Kingman's policy, and each having a logical, legitimate story. Each saying he didn't know about the insurance until he saw the ad. Where are these boys, Earl? Right here in Sarasota. They arrived yesterday. They arrived together? No. A couple of hours apart, unknown to each other, they say. I hope you made it perfectly plain that one of them has to be a phony, and that when he's found out, it's gonna go pretty rough with him. Naturally. But, Johnny, I can't find anything wrong with either of their stories. You know, their background, where they've been, and so on. Where they staying, Earl? A couple of dingy little motels on the edge of town. Now, look. Here's the file on them, or rather on the old man. Well, I don't know that that's gonna be much help. There's information about not only Kingman, but his wife, who died before him. There's a lot of miscellaneous information about the boys. I mean, the boy, where he went to school, and Sunday school, who his teachers were. The names of some of his friends. There's a lot of stuff here. Well, then maybe I'd better go through it. Sure. Now, look, it's getting late. You're gonna stay with Gertrude and me as usual. Oh, that isn't necessary, Earl. Well, she'd kill me if I didn't bring you home. So, come on, we'll drive on out to the quay, have cocktails and some dinner. You can spend the evening pouring over that material. Come on. Cocktails and dinner were great. They always are with the poor ones. Only poor man is a misnomer. That Homer there is on St. Armand's quay is not only big and new, but beautiful. They have their own private dock and speedboat on the bio directly back at the house. Here, they own a couple of spanking new fancy air-conditioned cars. I decided that if I ever get enough to retire, this would be the kind of a setup for me. It was nearly 10 o'clock by the time I got around to the folder on Henry Kingham. But by 2 a.m. so help me, I knew more about him than he himself could. Yes, I was all set to expose one of these claimants as a phony, a fraud. Had the whole situation right in the palm of my hand, I thought, but, brother, I had no idea of what was coming. Believe me. Hey, Johnny Dollar, in a moment. And now, for another episode in the life of Sergeant Donald Bellweather. My husband. If I can't find the fountain pen, I've looked all through this desk. Here it is, dear. You must have used it as a marker when you were reading this book. Let's see, this great literary classic, Six-Och. All right, never mind about my reading habits. Just look at the coverage we're going to get with this new auto-accident policy. Let's see. Collision. $150 deductible. Fire, theft, public liability, property damage, medical benefits. In other words, we have complete coverage. That's right. Of course, it's going to cost us money. I'm sending the company a check right now. Gee, it's too bad we don't live in Rhode Island. Rhode Island? Why? Well, because then our rates would be lower. Rhode Island has less accidents per capita than any other state. Oh. Which state has the highest? Let me see. Here it is, Nevada. Oh, by golly, Nevada's second highest. Alaska has the most. Really? I didn't know that. You know, it's just too bad we can't eliminate traffic accidents completely. Not only would it save life and limb, but it'd be a lot less strain on the pocketbook. Yeah, that's for sure. These automobile accident policies get more expensive every year, just because there's so many costly accidents. Well, I'm glad we've got some good insurance coverage, Donald, but just remember one thing. Oh, what's that? Well, some auto accidents ruin a fender and some ruin a family. Yeah, that's true. Very true. But as far as I'm concerned, I don't want any of your old insurance money. I want you here at home. Safe and sound. You'll always drive carefully, won't you? Yes, I will, dear. That's my Donald. That's my doll. Back to viewers truly, Johnny Dollar and the Double Trouble Matter. Next morning at a cheap little motel on the north edge of Sarasota, I'd spent nearly an hour carefully questioning Henry Kingman, number one. And I was getting nowhere. Oh, the O'Brien? Sure, Mr. Dollar, he was one of the kids I used to play with back in Elizabeth City. He and Bobby Tank. Oh. You see the scar on my arm right here? That's where Obi hit me with a stick one time when we were playing caddy. Yeah, I see. If you know where Obi is these days, you ask him and he'll probably remember. Scared him to death, he thought he'd busted my arm. Now, let's see, how about Miss Albertus? Albertus? Yes. See, I don't remember any Miss Albertus. Your Sunday school teacher, they're in Elizabeth City. Listen, I was only 10 years old then, but I remember my Sunday school teacher real good. Her name was Miss Griswold and she was, uh... Look, are you trying to trick me or something? Yes, I am, because Henry... Why don't you call me Hank? Everybody else does. The fact remains, Hank, that one of you two claimants to the insurance is a phony. Well, believe me, it's not me. Everything you've told me about your childhood checks perfectly with the information I have. Well, of course, Mr. Dollar. Almost too perfectly. Listen, where did you live and go to school after the hurricane? Well, I'll be honest, I didn't have much schooling. Where did you live? Mr. Dollar, I wandered around more than Little Orphan Annie, all over North Carolina, than up north... Did you live anywhere long enough to be, well, really be recognized as Henry Kingman? I'm afraid I was just a bum. And all anybody ever knew me by was Hank. You saw the ad about the unclaimed insurance in New York? Yes, sir, I was working on the dock, Steve Adoring. Saw the ad and the times. And I decided that if I had that much money coming to me and I could get a hold of it, right... Maybe I could amount to something. Get an education, maybe, or... Well, Hank, all the insurance company has to go on is your memory, or what you say is your memory of your childhood. Well, what I've told you is true, sir. But if the other claimant comes up with the same kind of a story... But he can't. Because don't you see, sir, I'm really Henry Kingman. I've told you all about my father and the house and the hurricane and the people I knew about what's happened... Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. It's because I am Henry Kingman. Uh-huh. We'll see. I tried to trip him up in a dozen ways, but with no success. He had a logical, reasonable answer for every question about his past and present. As for not being able to reduce anyone who could identify him as Henry Kingman, thought it was simply because of his rather aimless life spent wandering from city to city, never having any close friends because he chose to go alone. He was a tall, well-built lad with a mop of blonde hair and clear blue eyes. And I must confess, I kind of liked him, his open frankness. But you know something? I could have been awfully wrong. Although most men by nature don't feel in a combat mood much of the time, there are some who just can't get enough of a good fight, particularly if there is good sound reason for it. In July 1900, when American fighting men were protecting the rights and liberty of their fellow countrymen during the Boxer Uprising, the battle was a furiously fought affair. Army Private Robert H. Bonchlik, serving with Company C of the 9th United States Infantry Division, was in the thick of the breakers. Although he had been wounded previously while carrying a wounded comrade to a place of safety, he rejoined his command, which partly occupied an exposed position on a dyke. Private Bonchlik remained there after his company had been withdrawn, and in spite of the hail of bullets around him, single-handedly continued to fire into the enemy ranks. Oblivious to the fact that he was a conspicuous target, he refused to leave the fight until he was literally shot off his position by the enemy. Private Robert Bonchlik earned the Medal of Honor for Valiant's devotion to duty and added heroic background to the code of conduct of American fighting men. Now act three of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. I got into the car that Earl Porman had loaned me and drove to the motel east of town to see Henry Kingman number two. Tall, dark, and well-dressed, he was terse and to the point. And he answered all my questions with the same ease and conviction as the other boy. It only one major respect that his story differ. Oh, so I can't name you a single person who can identify me as who I really am, Henry Kingman. And for a very simple reason. What's that, Henry? It's Henry, Mr. Dollar. And the reason is that right after the hurricane, I was adopted by a family that just moved into nearby Bridgeston. The name was McGovern, so I took their name. Come up to Bridgeston, ask them. Show them my picture, anything you like. I'll tell you I'm Henry McGovern. Only my foster parents knew that I was really Henry Kingman. New? They both died about seven years ago. And they told nobody else who you really were? No, not even the preacher. They'd wanted a son for years, now they had a son. And they didn't want anyone to come along and take me away from them. Then how did you find out that you're Henry Kingman? If you are. I'll ignore that last part of your question, Mr. Dollar. They didn't tell me until my 21st birthday. Bridgeston, isn't that the little town up near Currituck that was completely destroyed by fire a couple of years ago? Oh, yes, of course, I, uh, forgotten. There isn't a living soul up there anymore. Oh, but I'm sure a man like you could track down some of the people who lived there. When were you last in Bridgeston? I went up north rather than my parents, my foster parents died. As I told you, I've been living and working in New York. Now look here, Mr. Dollar. Well, hasn't everything I've told you checked perfectly with what you know about my father, my childhood, everything? Hasn't everything I've told you proved to be true? Isn't it proof that I'm Henry Kingman? There's only one trouble. What's that? You're not the only one who has that kind of proof. Here, Johnny, have some more of this baked seat draft. No, no thanks, sir. Johnny, you've hardly touched a thing. Yeah, I know, Gertrude. I'm sorry. I will have another cup of coffee, though. Sure. So you haven't gotten very far in your investigation? No, I'm afraid not. I told you, Johnny, the stories of those two boys check out perfectly. Unless the information the company's been collecting for the last 20 years is all wrong. But both of them can't be Henry Kingman. So one of them must be lying. But which one? Well, suppose, just for example, that the blonde is Henry. Yeah? Then how would the other have got hold of all that information? Unless... Well? Do you suppose they've known each other some time in the past? They certainly don't like each other. I mean each other's being here. I asked them, Earl, and they both deny having ever seen each other until they came here within a few hours of each other. I didn't see the blonde boy, but the other came here to the house. I just didn't like him. The dark-haired one, I mean. Hey, wait a minute. What is it, Johnny? The description of the father in that folder. Excuse me. Can I help you? No, no, thanks. I got it right here. Hey, listen, does Dr. Crutchess still live up the street? Sure. Do you want me to drive you over? Johnny, what'd you find in that folder? I'll see you later. Walking out that street and there was no moon turned out to be a big fat mistake. In the first place, I almost bumped into a palm tree in front of the house. In the second place, I didn't see what stepped out from behind the next palm tree until it was too late. Huh? What do you want? Let's go! Times have changed, and so has the man. Through the ages, man has advanced both physically and mentally. Prehistoric man's concept of war and living was like that of an animal. His implements were crude, his knowledge simple. It was survival of the fittest. From his club and stones to bows and arrows and spears, from muskets and sabers to atomic rifles and missiles, man has progressed in the art of attack and defense. With each new phase, man's knowledge has developed. Today, the warrior, if he can be called such, is not a stone thrower, a bowman or a swordsman. He's a technician who needs knowledge of all that science has developed. He's a sonar man, a radar man, a rifle man or a torpedo man, a missile man, or a pilot. But whatever his job, he needs the skill and the technical know-how to do the job and do it well. Yes, times have changed, and so has the man. Now, act four of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Out there by the palm tree. Well, it's lucky you did, Earl, but I think these smelling sauce will bring them around. Can you come in? Holy, what the... It's okay, Johnny. Yeah, and once Doc Crutcher... who socked me? You don't know, Johnny? I sure don't. But, brother, I have a suspicion. A couple of them. Here, Earl, I brought him a cup of good hot tea. Tea? Sure, get him a slug of brandy. Oh, well, sure. Only make it scotch. Good man, Doc. You feel okay now? Yeah, Earl, listen. Yeah? Get on the phone. Call the motels where those boys are staying. Tell them to get over here immediately. Better still, I'll drive over and get them. Meantime, Doc. Yeah? Here's your scotch, Johnny. Thanks. And if you want some more... Just a minute, woman, where's mine? Oh, of course, Doc, I'm sorry. You like me, huh? Hey, listen, Doc, I want to ask you a couple of questions. What about heredity? Heredity? Yes. Okay, shoot. Just to keep things straight, I'll call you Hank. Sure, Mr. Donner. And you I'll call Henry. Well, it does happen to be my name. Now, Earl tells me he found you both in Hank's motel just now. That's right, sir. Comparing notes. I went over here to tell him that he's a phony. But if he doesn't get out of town... Oh, sure, sure. Hank, let me see your hands. Huh? Oh, sure. Here, sir. What about them? Look, Doc. Are you all right? Right about what, sir? How did you bruise these knuckles? Well, it was kind of clumsy, but my hand slipped trying to open one of the windows in that cheap motel. Don't you believe it, Johnny? He's the one who slid... Wait a minute. This one has a bruised knuckle, too. Oh. Now, what's your excuse, Henry? Well, you can believe it or not suit yourself, but exactly the same thing happened to me. What? You asked me, Johnny, they both attacked you. On the other hand, Earl, they may both be telling the truth about this. I thought it said the truth, sir. Oh, sir. What did you mean? About this. I mean that at least one of you was lying about being the son of Albert Skyler Kingman. Well, it doesn't... I mean, I just piped down for a minute. I suddenly realized that the laws of heredity could solve this case a lot quicker than detective work. What do you mean, Doc? So I checked with Dr. Crutcher to make sure I was right. Then I checked descriptions of Henry Kingman's father and mother. Did you, sir? Both of them had brown hair and brown eyes. So what? Where both parents have identical color hair and eyes, any offspring will have the same. Hank, your hair is so blond, it's almost white, and your eyes are blue. Now, Mr. John... Henry, your hair is almost black. Your eyes are also blue. Henry, you're crazy fool. I told you this wouldn't work. Crazy fool, huh? If you'd let me come here alone... Yeah? ...then you'd never have cut me in. Of course, I got suspicious. Oh, I... If you'd get out of the way, I got here first, didn't I? Oh, I was... I didn't know you were coming. Why didn't you get out of the way? All right. Put that thing down. You make one move and I'll kill you. Go ahead and kill him. If you... Take a look at what happened to Hank. Huh? Is everything all right? Gertrude, what did you hit him with? Well, I never did like that old base, anyhow. Yeah, my heredity gag was just that. A gag. But it certainly brought things to a head in a hurry. How did they know so much about the real Henry Kingman? Well, listen. As soon as we locked them up, I called the National Press Services, had them put the story of this attempted fraud in the headlines all over the country. Result? A phone call from the head of an orphanage where the real Henry had been taken in as a child where he still lived. And, yeah, the phonies were a couple of kids who'd run away from that orphanage after he'd paled around with them, told them all about himself. As for why they both appeared to make the claim, sure, each of them saw the company's ad and tried to get in ahead of the other. Well, they're in all right for a long time. Expense account total including incidentals and fare back to Hartford, 17870. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. News and directed by Jack Johnstone. Heard in our cast were Virginia Greg, Vic Perrin, Sam Edwards, James McCallion, and Parley Bear. Be sure to join us next week. Save time and station for another exciting story of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Johnny Dollar has been a presentation of the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service. Thank you.