 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. Signal, the famous go farther 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. I am 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 the Whistler's strange story, Trigger Man. Martin Lange was young, brilliant and confident. He had everything it took to make him one of Seattle's most successful lawyers. But law school graduates were a dime a dozen, regardless of how confident and brilliant they were. And Stella and the baby had to eat. So that was why Martin Lange took his first case from Branch Malone, a notorious gambler and got an acquittal for him. The first of a long line of acquittals. Yes. And Martin Lange's classmate threw up their hands, said he was betraying his profession. But Martin needed money and he kept telling himself he had to get a start somewhere. So he kept right on getting acquittals for Branch Malone and the money kept rolling in. But it had to end sometime. There had to be a payoff eventually. Gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict? We have, Your Honor. How do you find? We find the defendant not guilty. Very well. The clerk will record the verdict of the jury. The defendant is discharged from custody. The jury is dismissed. Court stands adjourned. Oh, Mr. Lange. You wanted to see me, Your Honor? Yes, Mr. Lange. I suppose I should compliment you on the way you handled the case for Mr. Malone. Well, I did my best, Your Honor. It was more than enough. Is that all, sir? Mr. Lange, I don't like to see a clean-cut young fellow like you get mixed up with an out-and-out criminal like Branch Malone. I thought the jury found him innocent. They found insufficient evidence to convict him. Mr. Lange, that does not necessarily imply his innocence. You pleaded his case well. Doubtless you will be able to do the same for him again if you're willing to pay the price. The price? The price is your conscience, your peace of mind. Well, I... I appreciate your interest in me, Your Honor, but I'm afraid that I, um... not impressed. That it? Well, that be all, Your Honor? Yes, Lange, that's all. Very well. Good day, sir. Good day. Hello, Lange. Oh, hello, Lieutenant. Congratulations. Oh, thanks. You know, sometimes I'm sorry I'm on the force fussing around with small stuff like murders. And I could be doing a great work like you are. Upholding the rights and defending poor, innocent little guys like Branch Malone. Well, this seems to be lecture day. You'll excuse me, Radigan, I have an appointment. Yeah, sure. I saw him. Malone the Mighty. He's waiting outside with your payoff. Now look, Radigan, I don't... I got a tip for you, consular. It's about cops. Don't give us the brush off. Because one of these days you're gonna need us. Guys who play bang-bang with the big racket boys usually do. You know, I like you. You're a good kid. You got a nice family. Haven't you got any worries of your own, Radigan? Okay, Martin. Sorry. You're on your way, aren't you, Martin? Another acquittal, another $500 in your pocket. It doesn't matter where it comes from, does it? Malone's money is as good as anybody. And you keep telling yourself there's nothing wrong with what you're doing. That night as you sit in your living room reading the paper, you try to reason it through, file it away, but it keeps coming back. Uh, Stella. Yes, Martin? Is anything wrong? Wrong? No. I thought something might be bothering you. No. There's nothing, Martin. I thought you'd be happy about the case and everything. We can buy that dining room set now. Yes. Yes, we can. The case was a cinch. $500 for an afternoon's work. That's not bad. No. It's not bad. There's nothing to it. State's evidence was insufficient. One of their witnesses didn't show up. Same as the time before. Yeah. And they found the witness at the bottom of the river three days later. Well, I didn't have anything to do with that. No. No, of course you didn't. Well, Stella, you're not suggesting I drop Malone, are you? I mean, I know he's no angel, but if I wasn't getting his business, some other attorney would. Our lawyer isn't a criminal just because he defends one, is he? You're defending yourself now, aren't you? Oh, no, wait a minute. I'm not going through that again. I've told you a hundred times, Stella. I'll get it. Hello? Oh, yes, Branch. What? Oh. Oh, that's too bad. Yeah. Sure. Are they glad to? Uh-huh. Yeah. Yeah, I'll do it right away. What does he want now? He wants me to meet a friend of his and rush him home. His boy was just run over. Oh, terrible. Branch isn't good at this sort of thing. He wants me to tell a fellow and then take him home. Of course, Martin. Just a little favor for Branch Malone, Martin. It's the least you can do, isn't it? The tavern is only a few blocks away. And when you arrive, you'll find Mr. Williams in a back boot, just where Malone said he'd be. Are you Fred Williams? Oh, yeah. Yeah. What do you want? I'm afraid I have some bad news. Bad news? It's about your son, Lenny. Yeah, he's had an accident. An accident? Lenny? He was run over. No. No. Where is he? I've got to go to him. He's home. Come on, my car's outside. Thanks. Thanks a lot. My car's right here. How did it happen? Tell me. If you'll tell me where you live. I'll... Hello, Counseling. Branch. What are you doing here? Little business deal, Martin. All right, Williams, get in. No. No, Branch, please. I said get in. Branch, I won't talk. I won't say a thing. I'll leave Thomas Squirt. Put the gun away, Branch. Sorry, Williams. All right, Martin, get in. Let's get out of here. Branch, you shot him. I said get in, Martin. You're kind of quiet for a lawyer, Martin. I... I lured him to his death. You didn't expect me to go into that crowded bar, did you? Be seen with Williams? That story about his son being run over. It wasn't true. Ah, come on. Forget it, Martin. You did a good job. You got nothing to worry about. As long as we're friends. Williams, who was he, Branch? Oh, I thought I told you, Martin. He's the state's witness who didn't show up this afternoon. Audrey Newcomer of Los Angeles is the whistler fan to whom we are sending a $20 signal gasoline book this week as a token of our appreciation for writing this limerick. There once was a horse from Bombay who preferred signal effle to hay. He was easy to ride. You just cling to his hide and step on the gas all the way. Signal, signal, signal gasoline North Carolina go far, but go further gasoline A smart horse, that one from Bombay. For it's no secret that signal effle is packed with horsepower that puts new zing into older cars and gets the most brilliant performance from new cars. Do you like flashing pickup that makes other drivers sit up and take notice? Try signal effle. Do you like smooth, responsive power that lets you streak down the straightaway or float effortlessly over the highest hills with nary a complaining thing? Then it's signal effle for you. When you step on the gas, you'll know you're enjoying the most thrilling performance your car is capable of delivering. If you fill your gas tank next time with signal effle. Well, Martin, you've discovered something, haven't you? The judge in Radigan. Even your wife Stella tried to tell you but you couldn't understand until now. It happened so suddenly that it's dungeon. The witness Williams is dead and you unknowingly lured him to his death right to Branch Malone and stood by like one of his gunmen while Branch pulled the trigger. You're trapped, aren't you, Martin? Because you're the only witness living who could put a rope around his neck. And you know exactly how Branch Malone feels about that kind of a witness. There's nothing to do but keep your mouth shut and hope for the best. The next morning you arrive late at your office and find your secretary waiting. I've been trying to get you, Mr. Lang. I'm sorry. I wasn't feeling well. I went for a walk. Some things come up that I thought... Well, they can wait until tomorrow. I'm going home. I'm afraid they can't wait. Mr. Jarrett called about the watch this week. That can wait. Then there was a call from Mr. Malone. Uh, what? When? About an hour ago. He wants to see you. Oh. All right. Um, is he at his club? At the city jail. He was booked this morning on suspicion of murder. Hey, I'm Mr. Lang. Make yourself cozy. Ten minutes. What's happened, Branch? I thought you might know, Consulman. Cops were tipped off to that Williams' killing last night. What? Yeah. What? No, wait a minute. Don't look at me. You don't think I... I didn't say nothing. Listen, I'd be crazy to do anything like that, Branch. Sure. Here you would. That's what I told Spike Robertson. Spike Robertson? Who's he? He's the man the newspapers referred to as my trigger man, Martin. Don't believe you ever met him. Nice guy to have on your side when you're in a spot. We've... Well, we've been trying to figure out if any witnesses might have been around last night. That is any besides you, I mean. Branch, believe me, I didn't talk, and I'm not going to. That's what I told Spike. Spike said, don't worry, boss, if they pick you up, when there's no witness, there's no case. You can figure that one out for yourself, can't you, Consulman? Oh, sure, Branch. There won't be any prosecution witnesses, Martin, because you're the only one, and you ain't going to be on the witness stand. You're going to defend me. You know, just like before, only this time, Spike's going to be real interested in how you're doing. You get it? Lang. Oh. Oh, it's you, Lieutenant Radigan. A little jumpy, aren't you? What do you want? Got it all settled with Branch Malone? I heard you just had a chat with him down in cell block nine. I'm sorry, Radigan, I haven't got time to stand around and... I know, I know, you're a very busy man. But you're playing with dynamite this time, Sonny. Your friend knows that all his blue chips are on the table. Because whoever put the finger on Williams in that bar is the guy who's going to hang him. And this time, so help me, the witness isn't going to disappear. What are you getting at, Radigan? You've got to take your choice this time, Martin. Oh, I still think you're a good guy. I still think you're on the right side. Maybe you don't know it yet, but you are. And I think you know enough about this case to hang Malone. And I think you'll come through for us. But when you do, it's going to be dangerous. Why are you telling me all this? I wanted you to know why I'm putting a tail on you. What? Mm-hmm. He's going to watch over you day and night. And if you know what's good for you, you won't try to give him the slip. Is this for my protection? Or is it to... Like I said, Martin. This time, the guy we think is an eyewitness isn't going to disappear. That puts it up to you, doesn't it, Martin? You can take your choice. Go along with Branch Malone and toss the rest of your life into the ash can. Or tell what you know and face Spike Robertson, Branch Malone's so-called trigger man. And you won't have a chance because you don't know what Spike looks like. You've never seen him. All you know is that he's never missed yet. That when Branch gives him the order, the witness disappears. You can't eat, you can't sleep, and worst of all, you can't explain to Stella. Martin. Yeah? What are you going to do? Oh, will you forget it, Stella? Branch Malone is my client. I've got to defend him. Do you? Of course I do. Why, Martin? You know he's guilty. Why must you involve yourself in it any further? You've got a right to turn him down. He doesn't owe you. Stella, please. If you defend him, you're as guilty as he is. Where are you going? Out. Come on, friend. We may as well be sociable. Sorry, mister. I don't... Oh, I know you're the tale Lieutenant Radigan put on me. He told me himself. Radigan told you then? Hmm. Wonder why he doesn't tell me these things. Did he tell you my name, too? No. Well, you know everything else. You might as well know that. It's Ed Morris. Okay. I saw you following me all afternoon. I thought you did. Thought I'd walk around the block if you don't mind. Why not? Radigan would get a bang out of this, I suppose. Walking around together this way. The boss just said to keep an eye on you. He didn't care how. Is that all he said? That's all. Say there's a bar down the street here. I don't want to go on any bars. Maybe it's just this bar. Maybe because it's the one where Williams... I said I don't want to go on any bars. All right, Martin. Anything you say. Just as long as you're a good boy. I've changed my mind about taking a walk in. I think I'll go home. Yes, Martin. You're on a one-way street. A blind alley. There's no way to turn now, and there's a blank wall at the end. You've got to take the case. It's more than a matter of right and wrong. Yes, Martin. At this point, it's life or death. So you go to work on it. Visit Branch Malone every day in his cell. Spend nights at the office preparing the case. Plugging loopholes. Anticipating points the prosecution is sure to bring out. Making in another sure thing for Branch. You have two weeks until the arraignment, and Branch Malone wants bail. Two weeks without sleep, forgetting to eat until you're almost ready to crack. And worst of all, you can't tell Stella. There's no way to make her understand. And then suddenly on the night before the arraignment, you can't hold out on her any longer. Martin. Martin, darling, you're worried sick. Why don't you tell me about it? You can't go on this way. Oh, please, Stella, there's nothing. Are you afraid to tell me? No, no, I... Why did you lie to me, Martin? Why did you tell me you had nothing to do with the murder? Williams was the man you met that night. Listen, Stella, you've got to forget it. Please, don't even think... Who are you afraid of? I... All right, I'll tell you. I'm the witness. I'm the only one who can hang Branch. Lieutenant Radigan knows that they all do, but they have no proof. Well, that's why that guy's always waiting for me across the street, Stella. He's a plain clothes man, one of higher Radigan's boys, protecting me. Protecting you? Yeah, his name's Ed Morris. Radigan knows if I open my mouth, I'm dead. But if that's all there was to it, I wouldn't worry. It's you, too, and Susan, don't you see? The loan won't stop at anything. His gunman, Spike Robertson, is waiting for me somewhere. Waiting for me to open my mouth. And if I do, the guard won't make any difference. Spike won't stop until he gets us all. Martin, I... Well, now you know it. You were right, all of you, but it's too late now. So you're going to defend him? And let it happen again and again? Yes. Martin, I want you to stand up at the arraignment tomorrow and tell them everything. Don't be ridiculous. We'll take our chances, Martin, Susan, and you and I. It has to be that way, dear. If we don't, there's nothing left, don't you see? No, I'm afraid I don't. Please, Martin. You just don't know, Stella. You have no idea. I do. I'd rather be dead. Don't even say it. I don't want to hear it. No, you better go on the bed, dear. I've got to do some thinking. Pacing the floor for Martin. I'm the one who ought to be worrying. What time is it, Branch? It's 12.30. Raymond's set for one, ain't it? Yeah. Man, have a smoke. We've got a half hour. Oh, thanks. You're still sure of yourself, ain't you? I'll get bail for you. That's a good thing to know. You and me are going to do big things together, Martin, you're a smut boy. Branch. Yeah? Branch, what if I told you this was going to be the last time? Yeah. But if I get you out of this one, we're all washed up. What do you mean, if, Martin? All right, when I get you out of this one? How long have you been thinking this over? I don't know. I just don't... I don't like it, Martin. You just don't run out on this kind of a partnership, not when a guy knows as much as you do. Oh, I'm not going to talk if that's what's worrying you. You're wrong, Martin. I'm not worried. Okay, it's the last time if you want it that way. Of course, you won't be taking cases from anyone else, either. But if you say it's the last time, there's nothing I can do. What do you mean, Branch? Well, I'm not in charge of ending partnership, Spartan. I leave that to my partnership-ender, Spike Robertson. So you go into the courtroom, Martin, and half listen to the statement of evidence from the prosecution as you think about the one-way street with Spike waiting at the end. Stella is there watching her face white and tense. Branch, confident, half-smiling, wondering what you'll say when the time comes, and then finally it comes. And you'll find yourself on your feet going into your act. And I remind the court that the so-called evidence presented by the prosecution is neither circumstantial evidence nor is it direct evidence. It's nothing, gentlemen. Nothing but suspicion based simply on the fact that it is alleged that my client had ample and sufficient motive to... Stella is not looking at you now, Martin. She's bent over her face in her hands. Radigan is turning away. The judge is looking down at the bench. William's connection has yet to be demonstrated to the satisfaction of either the state or... Or I can't go on, Your Honor. I ask that the court disqualify me as counsel for the defense, and I offer myself as principal witness for the prosecution. It's a new world, isn't it, Martin? There's a different feel to the sidewalk under your feet as you start home late that night. After filing your sworn statement of the killing with the district attorney's office, the streets are bare and deserted. Just you and Ed Morris, the guard Lieutenant Radigan appointed to protect you. I missed you when I left the courthouse, Ed. I was there. Don't worry. Looks like you've got a job on your hands now. I'm ready. That was quite a thing you pulled. I thought Malone was going to pass out in his chair. You know, it's funny, Ed. Now that it's over, I'm not scared at all. They sent two men along with your wife. Steak out of your house, you know. Oh, this is the car. Yeah. Up in. Bye. Something new has been added this week to Signal Service Stations. That sign out front showing a little wooden soldier standing crisply erect under the broiling summer sun has been put there to remind you that Signal Premium Compounded Motor Oil stands up under heat. That's especially important at this time of year because high temperatures tend to break down many motor oils and cause harmful carbon, gum, and varnish. But no matter how hot it gets, Signal Premium can take it. That's because its 100% pure paraffin base is fortified with scientific compounds that do important things for your motor, which oil alone cannot do. One of these compounds, for instance, specifically prevents the formation of gum and varnish. Another compound actually removes carbon and still another compound in Signal Premium Motor Oil protects costly bearings from corrosion. So if you want your valuable motor to have the hot weather protection it needs to keep performance up and wear down, now's the time to change to this improved type signal oil that does so much more than just lubricate. Drive into a signal service station and change to Signal Premium Compounded Motor Oil. Well, Martin, it seems Branch Malone didn't waste any time, does it? Two shots and Ed Morris the guard lies dead at your feet. You look at the killer standing in front of you and the gun still smoking in his hand. There's nothing you can do, no way to turn. 10, perhaps 15 minutes left to live. Long enough for him to take you to a lonely spot on the highway and make another witness disappear. And then strangely, you find yourself thinking of the sworn statement safe in the district attorney's office. And strangers still you discover you still aren't afraid. There's no use checking him, he's dead. Yeah, I don't miss very often. Well, what do we do now? Maybe we better call the coroner. What are you talking about? What do we usually do with stiff slang? I don't get it, Spike. Spike? You're Branch Malone's man, aren't you? You're a little confused, brother. That's Spike Robertson on the ground there. He's been telling you since the Williams killed him. But he didn't know Lieutenant Radigan had me telling him. My name's Stanley, DA's office. Let that whistle 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, indicators of signal gasoline and motor oil, and fine quality 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 descended is Signal Oil Company, Los Angeles, California. All limericks become the property of 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. Of course, they must be your own composition. Featured in tonight's story were Jack Edwards Jr., Monty Margetts, and Charles McGraw. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen, with story by Robert and Beatrice Gruskin, 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 to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Remember, at the same time next Sunday, another strange tale by the Whistler. Your announcer has been Marvin Miller. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.