 That whistle is your signal for the signal oil program, the Whistler. I'm 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. Yes, friends, it's time for the Whistler, rated by independent research the most popular West Coast radio program. And remember, let every traffic signal remind you, with new signal gasoline, you do go farther than ever. Look for the familiar big yellow and black circle sign that identifies those popular signal service stations throughout the West from Canada to Mexico. And now the Whistler's strange story, the affair at Stony Ridge. Her mind was numb, and there was a tight, tense feeling in her throat as she gripped the steering wheel of the old car, guiding it up the narrow road to Stony Ridge Farm. She decided it was best not to think that it was better to have the dull, numb feeling than to go back over it again and again to realize that it was true that Jody was gone, that he didn't love her, that Jody loved a tall, slender girl with painted lips and lazy, laughing eyes. It was spring, and a line storm was on the way. Soon she'd be back at Stony Ridge Farm with stubborn ol' Uncle Rance and sharp-tongued Bess, his wife. Soon the rain would come thudding down, drowning out her poor dream of happiness with Jody, and she'd go back to the life she thought she was leaving forever. The road narrowed, and she came over the rise to see Stony Ridge again, narrowing as though to hold imprisoned the farm that rests below. Just one more turn, Myra. Don't forget your bag, Myra. The bag that holds your wedding dress. The stillness of the house as you put down your bag and move into the kitchen. There's something puzzling in the cold ashes of the stove, the chill of the small water tank. It's later in the morning than you thought. Uncle Rance and Bess must be in the fields. Then, as you move to the back door, a man carrying a gun steps from the barn 30 feet away, a tall, wide-shouldered man who walks with a wary stealth of an Indian. Call me, haven't you, Jody? How long you been here? Just came. Just now? Yeah. You did come for me, didn't you, Jody? Yeah. Yeah, I came for you. Jody, I'm so glad. So glad you'll never know. Let's get into the house. Yes, Jody. Yes. Let's sit in the parlor. It's warmer. What'd you come back here for? I had to, Jody. What do you mean, your head? Sit down, Jody. Sit down next to me. You little fool. Do you want to mess everything up? I told you when to meet me tonight. Don't be angry with me, Jody. When I go to look for you, it wasn't there. But I got in town early. And I were early. I searched for you. Then I saw you with her. Her? You were parked in a car with a girl. Had your arms around her. Oh, Jody! Where'd you go then? Where'd you spend the night? With a friend. I got up early this morning and drove home. Spent the night in town, eh? Don't cry. Everything's going to be all right. Look, Mara, I came back for you, didn't I? Didn't Jody come back? Sure, I did. And you said we were going to be married. You said so. Well, who said we were? Always. I see anybody in Tennessee try to stop us. Oh, cut out the cry. What do you say, huh? Jody? Yeah. Who was she? Huh? Oh, she wasn't nobody. Mr. Town Girl. Look, Mara, I just kiddin' around. Every man does that once in a while. Honest, she don't mean a thing. You're my girl. Am I too? We're gettin' married today, ain't we? Today? Oh, Jody. Uncle Rainson ain't best. They must know I come back. Rainson back? I meant to tell you. They were just leaving when I come. Said something about helping somebody with the alfalfa before it rained. Then let's go, Jody. Let's go before they get back. Well, what's the rush? We got plenty of time. They'll be stuck there a long time for the rains. Besides, uh, I want to talk with you. Jody? Yeah. What you doin' with that gun? This? Oh, uh, I thought I'd get me a rabbit on the way up. See, uh, this is my... Is it on the level what they say about old Rainson? I mean about all the cash he's got staged away. Yeah. Uncle Rainson's got some on him. I mean a lot. Jody? I don't know how much he's got. Why? No reason. No reason at all. Just heard he had a lot. Somebody said he kept it here. Didn't believe in pain. Who said they? It is he and the house agent. Yeah? Yeah. Yeah, that's what they said, all right. Jody, let's go. He kept him find me here after I ran out on him. Look, my bag still packed him already. Plenty of time. I like sitting here with you. This is the way it's going to be from now on. Just you and me together. This is so good. We're going to get lost well together. None of this farm work anymore. We'll head for the big city and I'll get me a job. The city? Oh, Jody. Nothing's going to be too good for you. All you're going to do is set home and take it easy. How you like that? Go on, Jody. Talk some more. All the pretty clothes you want. And believe me, I mean it. Only, well, you've got to do things my way. Innocent. I'll do anything you ask. That's my girl talking. Wish you're going to get along swell. You know, I just think. Yeah. About all reins of me. Yes, Jody. Where's he keep all that dough, you know? He's just curious. What? I can't tell you that. You know, don't you? Yeah. You can tell me, Myra. Shock seems like going to be a hug. I can't tell you, Jody. It's their secret. Wouldn't be right. What's wrong about it? Don't you trust me? Please, Jody. That's it. You don't trust me. Me, the man you're going to marry. Well, how do you like that? I trust you, Jody. Of course I do. You sound like it. Yeah, you sound a lot like it. Well, I guess that's it. Where are you going? Where do you think? I'm going to beat it, that's what. I'm going home. And you can stick around in this hole the rest of your life. You going to tell me? What an old rancid of a duke for you. Old bastard. Nothing. Nothing but working 12 hours a day and treating you like a dog. You don't know him a thing, honey. Not a thing. Come on now, honey. Well, where is it, huh? Oh, no. I want that money, Myra. Jody. Jody. I'm going to get it. Nobody, nothing is going to stop me. What are you going to do? We'd ride here to ransom best get back. They'll never tell you. Me and stubborn money hungry. They'll tell me. They don't know him. They'd rather die. They're going to die. Jody. You think they can live after I get the money? They'd have me and Jill and I after they got to the phone. Jody. I know you must. I'll tell you. You mustn't harm them. Where? It's in the cellar. Now you're talking. Where, what are we waiting for? The cellar's locked. We'll have to get the key. Okay. You'll find it on the shelf of the whole closet upstairs. Right inside of it. You're not skipping out on me while I'm up there. Think I'm a sucker? I'll be waiting right here, keeping an eye on the road below. All right, Jody. I'll get it. Get going then. And listen, don't go fooling around up there. You just find that key and come down. Right down, you understand? Yes. Yes, I understand. With the prologue of the affair at Stony Ridge, the Signal Oil Company brings you another strange tale by the Whistler. O-I-L. Oil. The stuff drivers put in their motors. Because, well, because they know it's supposed to be there. But does the kind of oil you choose for your car really make any difference in the way your motor runs? If you've ever wondered about that, let me tell you about a test I recently saw. Two identical cars were run for 79,000 miles. One using today's finest straight motor oil, the other using Signal Premium Motor Oil. The new tight lubricant that combines 100% pure paraffin base with five scientific compounds. When these motors were torn down for inspection, the one using new Signal Premium Oil had only one-sixth as much carbon deposit and one-third less cylinder wear. Now, what does this mean to you? Well, less carbon means that your motor runs quieter, smoother. You can forget about fouled spark plugs and sticky valves. And less cylinder wear means more power, more mileage from your gasoline. Yes, those five scientific compounds in Signal Premium Oil really make a difference in the way your motor runs, which explains why your switch from old-fashioned straight motor oil to new Signal Premium is your guarantee of a sweeter running motor. Now, back to the Whistler. Well, Myra, it's hard to believe that this man, this strange, savage creature is Jody. You're a Jody, the man you love. He's waiting for you downstairs now as you start up to the closet to get him the key to the cellar where Uncle Rance has hidden his money. It's all been so bewildering. The sudden breathtaking way you fell in love with Jody. The shock last night when you found him with a laughing-eyed girl. His concern over the money. As you start up the stairs, you try desperately to believe that Jody is playing a game, a weird, crazy joke that soon you'll call to you and say it was all in fun. You'll stop on the stairs for a moment. What are you waiting for, Myra? No, Myra. This is no game. This is real. The closet, Myra. Reach up and get the key for Jody. He's waiting. Stay in as you turn. Uncle Rance's room, Myra. You can see through the half-open door. Dresser draws wide-open clothes scattered crazily about the floor, a chair lying on its back, broken in a dozen places, and on the bed, a crumpled sheet with an ugly red stain. Now you know, Myra, your Jody has killed. All you can think of now is the telephone. You've got to get to the telephone. Down in the kitchen. Quietly, Myra. Quietly. Down the hall slowly, Myra. Carefully. Yes, Jody. What's going on out there? It's dark, Jody. I can't find it right away. I know it's here. I'll come up and get it myself. No, Jody. No, I'll find it. Here's some... The queen is coming down hard now as you move silently down the hall to the back steps leading to the kitchen. Jody had never meant to marry you, had he, Myra. It was a trick to get you away from the farm so he could commit his crime without a witness. The rain, Myra, the blessed rain. It'll cover the sound of the creaking stairs. Slowly you start down. Three more steps and into the kitchen. Now, easy, Myra. Lift the receiver. Hello, Myra. Better hang up the phone, Hendy. Jody. I told you not to fool around up there. You shouldn't have gone into that room, Myra. Room? Yeah. I kind of liked you, too. I really did. Now you can open the cellar door. We're going downstairs, you and me. What you gonna do with me? What can I do? You know too much. Go ahead now, like a good guy. Now, they're right behind me. Jody, don't! Start walking. Jody! Start walking. Who's that? I don't know. Quiet. That's Benson's home. Benson? That's my old friend, Uncle Ryan. What's he want? I don't know. Don't make a sound. The way Jody goes away, your mouth closed again, oh, that's good for me. He's in the back, we are kidding. And I mean, get him. But he will. He always does when nobody's home. Then it's going to be too bad. Let me talk to him. I'll send him away. I won't let him in. That's up to you. Tip him off or let him in, and you know what happens. I promise I won't. Be right next to you behind the door. Hello, Mary. Thought nobody was to home. They're gone. I mean, Uncle Ryan's and Aunt Benson. They're helping the Beatles get in the alfalfa. Ain't here, huh? I'd ask in, but Aunt Benson just washed the kitchen floor. I mean, for last night. I don't know. It's a blame, anyway. I just stopped for a second. What's the matter, girl? You look so depeaked. I'm all right. Look, peaked to me, what you need, a big cup of sulfur and molasses, most like. We'll tell Rince I was around. Oh, well, Mr. Benson. Nothing I can do for you in town? No. No, thank you, Mr. Benson. There's nothing you can do for me in town. Well, I... I think you'd better get out of the rain. Bye, Mary. Bye. He's gone. It's getting late, Myra. Jody, isn't there anything? There ain't nothing else to do. Sell a dog. Unlock it. Jody. Get going. Start walking down. I'm right behind you. Keep moving. There it is. Up there on the top shale. Roll out the trunk. Get it. I can't reach it. It's up much too high. Get a chair. Now get up there and pull it down. I said pull it down. I'm trying to, Jody. I can't move it. You ain't half trying. Get off of that chair. Go on. I'll get off. Now hold it steady while I get up there. I said hold it steady. It is heavy there. I'm getting it, though. It's coming. Hang on to that chair, Myra. Free, Myra. He's locked in the cellar and you're safe. Quick now. Start your car. You fumble for the ignition switch. The key is, Myra. The ignition key is in your purse and the purse is in the house. You'll have to go back. In the kitchen. I'm sure. He's pounding on that door, Myra. He'll break through in a minute. The door's giving way. Nothing to do now but hide behind the sofa. He's outside in the rain looking for you. Quietly you slip up to your room and lock the door. You'd never believe your dare hide there. You can see him through a crack in the window or for the car. It's quiet now. Nothing but the rain and the balling of the cattle outside. Then he turns and comes back in the house. You stand there tense. Waiting for the nightmare to begin again. I know you're in there, Myra. Open the door. I want to talk to you. I won't hurt you, honest. I know you're thinking about Rance and Bess but ain't you better off without them? They was mean and stingy. Stop acting like a little fool, Myra. I know you're in there. I'm gonna bust the door down in a minute. You look out the window. 20 feet to the wet ground sloping steeply away from the house. Then you remember the window of the next room on your left. By leaning far out you can just reach it. You hear what I said, Myra? I'm gonna bust this door down. You get your finger under the seal and push. And slowly the sash rises. Quietly you let yourself out, hanging onto the seal letting your body swing into space. You get hold of the seal and pull yourself up and into the room. You're a clever kid, Myra. No, you don't. Kill you if you open your trap once more, understand? Okay. Now where is that money? In the suitcase. It ain't in the suitcase. Where'd they put it? Don't lie to me. Where'd they put it? I don't know. I cannot. Where did they put it? Answer me. Did you hear what I said? You're gonna tell me where old man Reigns hid that money when I have to beat it out of your skull. Listen to me, Myra. Where did he put it? I'll kill you so help me. Where did he put it? Where? Where did he put it? The whistler will return in just a moment with a strange ending of tonight's story. Meantime I'd like to clear up just one more point about that new signal premium motor oil we were talking about before. Where to get it? Throughout the west, from Canada to Mexico, you'll find signal premium motor oil at those friendly dealer-owned signal stations identified by the big signal circle sign in yellow and black. The same stations featuring that super-powered new signal gasoline that now helps you go farther than ever. The same stations that are famous for their more conscientious service. Yes, I said more conscientious because every signal dealer is in business for himself and has a personal reason for keeping your car and you happy. Man with a combination like that of quality products and finer service, it's no wonder that these days when overage cars have to keep on going, more and more drivers are switching to signal. It's another mighty good reason, I'd say, for making your next oil change a change to new signal premium motor oil. Your guarantee of a sweeter running motor. Now, back to the whistler. The last you remember, Myra, is Jody leaning over you, shrieking that he'd kill you if you didn't tell him where the money was. And you didn't know. There was nothing you could do, you were helpless. You knew he was going to kill you, Myra, and you were helpless. The room started whirling. You came closer. Then everything went black. When you opened your eyes to look around, you discovered you were in bed in your room. Everything was quiet. What happened? Hey, good easy girl. Everything's all right. Oh, Mr. Peace, you came back. You came back. Yep, just about the time I got to town, I figured there's something mighty wrong out here. Wrong? Hear them, cattle? Rance wasn't the sort of man to leave his critters beller and to be milked. Too good a farmer for that. Nobody was something fishy going on, so I come back with a share. But Uncle Rance is money. Jody. Funny in a way. I guess, of course, I've been advising Rance for years on his money matters. I'm the only one he ever told where he kept that money. Never told nobody else, not even Bessie. Know where it was? Sewed up in the lining of his old overcoat. The coat Jody buried him in. Monday at nine o'clock, the Whistler will bring you another strange tale. The Whistler is broadcast for your entertainment by the marketers of signal gasoline and motor oil, and fine quality automotive accessories, and by your neighborhood signal dealer. Featured in tonight's cast were Peggy Weber and Edmund MacDonald. This program produced by George W. Allen, with tonight's story by Lewis Estee, music by Wilbur Hatch, is transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. That whistle is your signal for the signal oil program, the Whistler. This is Marvin Miller speaking, reminding you to look for those familiar yellow and black circle signs and verify those popular signal oil stations throughout the West from Canada to Mexico. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.