 Standard of California, on behalf of independent chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the west, invites you to let George do it. The Coward, another adventure of George Valentine. President, I'll notice, dangerous my stock and trade. If you're an early worm who keeps getting the purge, you got a charm for me, George Valentine. Write full details. Dear Mr. Valentine, my name is Douglas French. I'm staying in a rooming house, 317 River Street. Mr. Valentine, we can't lose a second in correcting the most fearful, the most horrible mistake ever made by a mad man. I knew the man, but very briefly, several years ago. Some ways, somehow, in those years between, the pain of his own suffering must have twisted all his remembrance of fact. Because, Mr. Valentine, I hadn't been in the city more than 24 hours when the telegraph office called to read me a wire. It had my name on it. My brand new address. It was from him. Yes, Mr. French, message follows. It says I have got some new facts. It is never too late for you to suffer as you should. Now I know, and soon the world will know, that I hereby accuse you of cold bloodedly committing murder for your own cowardly gain. I hereby accuse you of murdering a total of 37 people. Signed, Amiel Martinez. Amiel Martinez. Repeating, for confirmation, 37. That is all, Mr. French. I'd say we won't attempt to remove it until the X-ray is a developable tenancy. You see, in this quarter, the man's chest... Yeah, yeah, yeah, Doc, I know, I know, but maybe the pictures will help us until you do get the bullet out. Near the breastbone, huh? With the juncture of this rib, you see. Exactly. Nor would I say the difficult part just now is keeping the poor man alive. Well, all right, Doc. Well, why are you so anxious about the bullet, Lieutenant? Do you have a gun to match it with or something? No, not yet. But when I do find one, well, I want to know what I'm looking for. There's nothing concrete to grab onto in this case. Except the telegram. Yeah, that. Amiel Martinez will round up every Amiel Martinez that ever lived. Only I don't know... Only it was a little wild, wasn't it? Thirty-seven people, almost a little crazy. Except that we do have a straight-out attempted murder on our hands. Couldn't you find anything about Mr. French? Oh, he comes from the east. They're investigating. They'll let us know, but it doesn't look like anything. No past record, no enemies, if that's what you mean. I meant friends. Well, none here in town. Least he didn't see anybody we know of. And you found him by the river, huh? Yeah, yeah, the walkway on the bridge. One lady said he had supper, was pretty nervous, went for a walk to kill time until eight o'clock. He got it out there in the dark. The noise of traffic on the bridge to cover the shot. Perfect place. Lonesome, motorist can't see. I guess he'd still be there if one of them hadn't stopped to inspect a flat tire. Lieutenant, I have the X-ray. Oh, yeah, let's see. Careful, careful with it, Lieutenant. Well, Riley, speaking of flat tires... Can you measure any caliber or anything off that picture? For the leather... What is this, a picket fence? Yes, yes, beautifully glazing. I'd say your bullet is this little shadow here under the edge of the rim. Oh, yeah. I always get a seat behind a pole. Yeah, but when will we operate later on? Later on, huh? Now I gotta sit around waiting to see if he regains consciousness or if he dies. Oh, sure, Riley. In the meantime, the game goes on, doesn't it? Well, we're waiting for that pole to be moved. There's somebody running around who's nutty, a wild of crazy. Really, Mr. Valentine, I should be in bed today. Uh, telegraph company keeps quite adequate records, worse than the Army. But I've already told the police... It's you! Excuse me. It's you. Now, look, I know there's a file copy of Wires. Oh, yes. Yes, yes, we sent him a confirming copy after we phoned it. Naturally. Well, George, we didn't find one on Mr. French or in his room. Throw it away or burn it, Booksy. Now, I'm interested in the file copy of the sending points. Uh, for handwriting? Yeah. Well, it was telephoned in by Mr. Martinez to one of the stations here in the city. But when you do that, you have to give your phone number and address for charges, don't you? Oh, I see what you mean. Yes, yes. We've already investigated. I have it right here. Uh, jeez. It was a pay station. Oh, sure. Thank you. Do you think, uh, Penicillin would help? I think maybe we all should have stood in bed when I get... I know, it's discouraging. We handle so much traffic every day. It's very seldom any of them would notice the text. Our girls never react to the millions of words that they... Why? Why? Good heavens. What is it, Miss Johnson? The message continues, I... I hereby accuse you of cold bloodedly committing murder for your own cowardly game. I hereby accuse you of murdering a total of 37 people. Signed Samuel Martinez. Do you have that, Mr. Anzlo? I'll repeat for confirmation. 37. Repeat. Hey. Hey, George. What'd you say? I am just a botanist, you understand? Mr. Valentine is student. Playing Mr. Botany B. I'm not concerned with the world of men. I...I, uh... Well, I... Mr. Anzlo, you were going to say that that wire was... a mistake, weren't you? Yes. I suppose a horrible mistake. That's what Mr. French said about his wire. I'm a botanist. In the world of botany... I guess you've seen about Mr. French in the newspapers, haven't you? Yeah, sure. At least from the looks of your study here. All the newspapers. Yes, Mr. Valentine, I know what happened. But that doesn't mean... Okay, then why did it happen? Why the wires? Who is Emil Martinez? What's he talking about? I won't tell you. I'll never as long as I live. You will, Buster. George, wait a minute. Mr. Anzlo, do you always tear up your magazines like that? Huh? What do you mean? Well, here in the wastebasket. It's a current copy, too. I've never heard of anyone tearing up a newspaper. Look out, Buster. Put it down. Don't touch it. I'm sorry, Professor. George... Now, you'll be okay, Buster. Now, what do we have to do? Go through the magazine page by page? Or are you going to tell us what it is? The world is botany. The world is botany. George, look here. Look where it's folded. Thirty-seven. Yeah? The number is here in the article. Freelance writer J.J. Farrell. Farrell? Yeah, why? Never mind. What is it? What to say? He's talking about the war. About being in Japan. Yeah? In reference to the above, it is of interest to note that Colonel Suyamoto's dying remarks to me concerned the wiping out of a party of thirty-seven, who, with the assistance of native guerrillas, were trying to escape the holocaust of Singapore. George... Oh, come on, Angel, come on. In this case, the efficiency of fifth column informants was belied. Colonel Suyamoto stated that the party, which included soldiers as well as civilians, never would have been located had it not been that four members of the party itself were foraging for food at night and that the application of threats finally made one of the four confess secretly the exact location of the other thirty-seven, who regrettably had to be destroyed. Other examples of fifth column and so on and so on. I guess the words in the telegram aren't so crazy after all, are they? No, Mr. Valentine. Were you one of the four, Mr. Anzlo? Yes. Was...Amel Martinez? I wouldn't remember any names. Was Douglas French? Oh, yes, yes, his picture is in the newspaper. It was the same man, I'm sure. Who else? I wouldn't remember any names. We were all strangers until then. Just a random group of us in a big party with a few British Army men and guerrilla leaders. The others I went foraging with at night, businessmen perhaps, Americans, I know that. I was teaching high school buttony in Singapore, Mr. Valentine. Buttony. Look, look, afterwards you went through so much together you were threatened, maybe tortured, weren't you? We were separated later on, sent to different prison camps, the four of us. Though I never knew just why they stopped torturing us, Mr. Valentine. Why they didn't go ahead and kill us. I just can't somehow believe that you wouldn't remember. Things so simply told in that article. And things so unimportant to the rest of the world. To whom the numbers 37 or 4 don't have such awful meaning. And who would guess that we were still alive, any of us? Perhaps many such events took place during the war. You don't remember, huh? It is not a thing. Simply remembered, Mr. Valentine. Not with sanity. Among that 37 were friends, war, families. But I have another family now in my work. I am a buttonist. I don't remember anything. I am a buttonist. Okay, okay, Mr. I lost. I'll talk to you later. Peaceful man. Oh, George. Well, Angel, there's a guy giving election tomorrow at the downtown club on the Orient. What? Just ordinary stuff, but the speaker's name is J.J. Ferrell. The what? Oh, so that's why you... Yes, Angel. Everybody seems to be in town at once, and I wonder why. And if this whole case has turned out to be a chase after a betrayer, an informer, a coward, then I wonder if the writer told all he knew, all the dying chap told him about which one of the four was the coward. I tell you, I ain't seen Mr. Ferrell. Now look, there's a suitcase. That's his, isn't it? The stick is on it. What if it is? I ain't noticed him come in. I clean up and dust and bring in the linen once a week. That's all I do. I'm not a snooper like some people a body has to put up with. Oh, now please take it easy, won't you? We told you how important it was that we... Here's his notebook, too. Oh. Yeah, guess what's on the back page. What? I have some new facts. If I accuse you, murder a total of... What's this? What's this? Uh, Andy, suppose you go into that bedroom and get rid of that laundry or whatever it is you do. I told you a body had to put up with things. Yes, Angel, it's the words from the telegram. The same identical telegram. Signed, Emil Martini. Oh, what's that? Come on, stay with her. Book, stay here. Okay. Oh. Is that your tenant, Andy? Is that the writer? JJ Ferrell? I... Yeah, but I didn't see him come in. I've been here all day. I ain't seen him all day. No. No, I guess you haven't. He looks like he's been dead since yesterday. We'll return to tonight's adventure of George Valentine in just a moment. I guess you know it was Mark Twain who said everyone complains about the weather, but no one does anything about it. But Standard of California keeps a careful watch on the weather and does something about it. So you can get peak performance from your car the year round and wherever you drive, they see to it that Chevron Supreme gasoline is carefully climate tailored. Whatever altitude and temperature zone you drive in, Chevron Supreme has been blended to meet the requirements of that zone. And it's further tailored for each different season of the year. So depend on Chevron Supreme gasoline to get the best out of your car. Try a tank full and you'll notice right away how your car responds. Faster starts, faster pickup and traffic, and smoother, ping-free power on hills. In fact, you can't buy a better gasoline for today's high compression engines. Ask for premium quality Chevron Supreme at independent Chevron gas stations and Standard stations where they say and mean, we take better care of your car. Now back to tonight's adventure of George Valentine. You learn the tragic wartime story of one man out of four who betrayed the location of 37 refugees fleeing from fall in Singapore. Well, if you're anything like George Valentine, you'd like to meet the writer who wrote that story particularly when you see that his notebook contains the words of that same telegram. The only trouble is the writer's dead. What are the medical examiners say, Riley? Well, same as you, dead 24 hours maybe. When his head's bashed in crime of passion, there was a fight, a struggle. That's a mouthful of understatement, brother. What about him? What kind of a guy was he? Well, I checked with a couple of editors, his reputation's good. Now the chance of his being mixed up with anybody from the Singapore business. And if he had any idea those four were still alive, he's the kind of guy who probably would have kept his mouth shut. Let sleeping dogs lie. Yeah, but look, Riley, maybe he didn't write all he did know. He couldn't have it. This doesn't make any sense. Ah, sense yet. A guy gets a bullet from whom? A guy gets bashed in by whom it's a killer I want, not a lot of... I'm reading Farrell's notebook, Lieutenant. His notes and things for stories. And it seems to me you're both counting wrong. What do you mean, Angel? Well, I mean, look, here it says, Amiel Martinez, question mark. What? Give me that. Now just wait a minute, wait a minute. And then there's a name Douglas French and his address back east, and Mr. Onslow. Well, that's only three, isn't it? But if I turn the page, I can count to four. Nick Atkins with a street number here in town. Here, here, this is the number. Yeah, and this is one time I'm going to do the talking. One time. Well, there's down the alley there. Down the alley there. Come on, you take it around the left. Okay. Oh, there's another policeman. Yeah, a guy running. Those shots were in the alley here, but there's nobody. George, look, at the house, a side window. Yeah, broken. The guy was standing out here shooting in it. Come on, side door, Brooksy. Nick Atkins. Who else? What? Hey, you miss me, didn't you? Couldn't hit fish in the rain by that way, the way he shot at me. Who couldn't? The minute we get out of this light of doorway, do you know? Yeah, yeah, but do you mind telling me who? How should I know? Now look, Buster, my name's Valentino. Yeah, sure. The paper's Valentine. Hi, cutie. Miss Brooks, isn't it? Oh, pretty smart, aren't you? I get around. I watch what's going on. Did you get a telegram? You don't think I'd be left out, do you? Sure, sure. Same stuff, same words. I checked it with French yesterday. You saw Douglas French yesterday? Oh, he gave me a ring to save some town from back east. That's all. Have you seen Hans Low lately? No. Teenage? No. That's all. It sure wasn't a laugh about that wire, though. Yeah, poor guy. It all strikes you pretty funny, doesn't it, Buster? You got a better suggestion? Or else you're going to get this... take this whirl unless you laugh at it, huh? Okay, I can't be a smart guy. Get something straight, mister. There was 37 people. I was boss Steve at all at the American Docks in Singapore. And I was so smart. I thought my wife would be safer within 37. Oh, I see. Nick, you're not going to help us very much, are you? Have it your own way. Okay, well, there's one thing I'd like to know, though. Did you have any idea back there in 1942 that one of the four of you had turned in former, that when they questioned you separately, one of you would have been a coward? What do you think? None of you ever guessed how that tragedy came about until you read Farrell's article in the magazine. Otherwise, a certain one of you never would have lasted as long as this. Stand still, will you? Now, take it easy. Take it easy. I know who it is. Come on in, Riley. There are three cops I'm going to demote, and then I'm going to demote myself. Why, what happened? Did he get away? Ah, don't even ask me. But what's the matter with you? Relax, Riley. This is Atkins. He's telling us nothing, Riley. Nobody is. Everybody's being so cooperative in this case. Oh, you can't blame him, Riley. Of course the coward isn't going to talk. Oh, yeah? We'll see, we'll see. I'm expecting a phone call any minute. Oh, did they operate on Mr. French for the bullet? Well, you could compare it with the ones that were fired at Nick Atkins. No, no, no, not that. It's Amiel Martinez. The right Amiel Martinez. What are you talking about, Riley? Ah, there, that's the report on him now. Hey, you see? People won't tell us, but we find out. Hello, Riley speaking. What? What? Oh, no, no, Sergeant, you're wrong. You can't be right. The, uh, Amiel Martinez who was in Singapore, who was captured and sent alone to a Jap prison camp. A couple of years later in that same camp died of sickness. What? But, but the telegrams... Well, that's why the question mark after his name, so that's where this is. A dead man sends telegrams. Today, yesterday, a dead man phones a telegram office. Now, listen to me, Riley. Somebody signed his name. That's all. Somebody wanted to make everybody sweat. Somebody who found out in the article they'd been a coward, but didn't know who it was but that's not important, don't you get me? What I want to do is stop another murder. Another murder? Well, who's left out of the four? Who fired those shots at Atkins? Who else could it be? Get away from me, both of you. Oh, you came right back to your house, didn't you, Mr. Onslow? You can't have my gun. You can't have it. But you've already shot at Atkins, Mr. Onslow. Well, I've missed him. I know I missed him. But you won't get another chance. We're here now and you're not going to shoot us. Stop talking as though I were crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill him. I'm going to... Yes, there you are. Well, that's better, Professor. I'm going to kill him no matter what it does to me. No matter what it does to anybody. Yeah, yeah, I know, Mr. Onslow. I talk about botany. I try to think about botany because I know what a terrible thing killing is. I can't close my mind. I am going to kill him. I am going to... Mr. Onslow, be quiet, will you? Why, let him spill it. I told you I wanted to stop a murder, didn't I? Huh? Hey, George. Yeah, hey, George. He's here. I heard the door turn. Shh, no, wait a minute. Here he comes. Come on, Riley, get it. Take it easy. Okay, get these. Get off me. I'm not going anywhere. Come on, first, Riley. I haven't got it gone. I don't need it. No, take it easy. No, no, he's... Okay, all right then. I'm sorry we were so rough. But now sit still. Don't move. Why? You know why. Hello, Onslow. Hello, Mr. Atkins. Well, I guess we can do without the formalities. Just take them both down to headquarters. And we can check on that gun of yours, Onslow, against the bullet in Douglas French. No, no! And you don't have to laugh, Atkins. We'll find the gun of yours someplace. Take it easy, Riley. I think I'll find the other gun for you. Where? French got his bullet on the walkway of a bridge, right by the railing. Okay, get some boys dragging that river fast. Killer tossed it over, huh? All right, all right, it's worth a chance. Worth a lot more than that. Yeah, well, I'll say it is, because one of these two guys did it. They're the only ones left. One of these two bashed in that rider, and then later on went out and took a pot shot at French. I guess because French and Farrell and everybody else knew he was the coward, that's why. Riley, would you please... Yeah, it is funny, isn't it, Atkins? Because you came up here to kill Onslow, didn't you? He's the coward. I don't need a gun. I've got no idea what it feels like to know what he did, Mr. Bountine. He's the coward. Oh, no, you don't. Take it easy now. Now, listen, mister, I want to talk about telegrams. Amy and Martinez didn't send them. That's a cinch. And Mr. Onslow, you didn't even receive your wire until long after Farrell was dead and French had been shot. Well, what difference does... Therefore, the wires must have been sent by one of you two. Sure, sure. And whichever one it was, you sent one to yourself to cover up. So what have I did? What does that make me? Thanks, Atkins. But I don't even care if it was you. The point is the guy who sent those wires did it because he didn't know who the coward was. What, mister? So he couldn't have been the coward himself, could he? And on the other hand, Mr. Onslow, if you were the coward, why would you be so anxious to kill a newspaper man you didn't even know? Huh? Now, wait a minute, Valentine. This case is all upside down, Riley, because for once, the innocent have a tragic motive for wanting to kill. You two guys are at each other's throats because you're the last ones left. Because you jump to the same conclusions the good lieutenant did. Mr. Valentine, I don't... That's pretty easy, Mr. Onslow. I guess there were two guys who knew about the coward, Mr. Farrell and the coward himself who must have found that Farrell knew the truth and killed him. The same man who walked down on the bridge by the railing and tried to commit suicide. Mr. Douglas French. Where's Valentine, Miss Brooks? Oh, he'll be right back, Lieutenant. Well, there it is. There's the bullet. The doctor said it was right next to his heart. Yeah, and I guess it'll match up with the gun from the river, all right? The gun we already traced to French. He must have stood by the railing concentrated on making his dying movements to heal the gun overboard. Then pulled the trigger and did it. Douglas French. Only why? Why did he go to all the trouble? Why did he call Valentine into it? Think how close to his heart it's always been, Lieutenant. Ever since 1942. Something even more deadly than a bullet. The guilt of knowing what he did. Of being the only one who knew. I guess so. And when the article came out, when he killed Mr. Farrell, he must have known it was hopeless. The others would get him sooner or later. Yes, but why call you people into it? Oh, don't you understand? He wanted to make everyone think accusing him would be a mistake. It was like the way he tried to commit suicide. Trying to make it someone else's fault. Making everything someone else's fault. Oh, sure. Sure, I get it. Douglas French was a coward all the way to the bitter end, that's all. George? What are you thinking about, George? Oh, I don't know, Angel. The things people do to forget things. To laugh at the world like Nick Atkins or concentrate on work. Like Bartony, maybe? Hey, you know, we're pretty lucky, Angel, you and I. Oh, I know it. Not having anything big to worry about. Well, we want to forget. What we want to do is... Yes, George? Go out and get something to eat. You've very likely read and heard that RPM motor oil is first choice in the West. And have you ever wondered why this is true? One of the reasons is because compounded RPM stops 80% of wear in your car's engine. This high cost wear starts the moment you cut the ignition. It's caused by acid-laden moisture forming on cylinder walls and other vital parts building in rust. But not so when you rely on that good premium quality RPM. For special compounds in RPM, keep a moisture-proof film on all vital parts in your engine. Even though your car stands idle for days or weeks, corrosive rust can't get started. So, to prevent 80% of the wear in your car's engine, depend on RPM, and you'll find the first choice in the West when it comes to motor oils is your choice, too. Ask for RPM motor oil at standard stations and independent chevron gas stations, where they say and mean we take better care of your car. Next week, when we pick up George Valentine in Bruxy in a small college town, we'll hear George sing. Now, Doctor, listen carefully. Someone was trying to make you fall, have an accident, kill you. Like someone deliberately took down that beach umbrella this morning. Remember? It might rain today. Registration week, it often rains in the afternoon. Doctor Adams, look, please, I need your help. You know something. You've got to tell me. You saw something out under the elm trees. Come on, Doctor. What did you see? Tonight's adventure of George Valentine has been brought to you by Standard of California on behalf of independent chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the West. Robert Bailey is starred as George with Francis Robinson as Bruxy. Wally Mayer appears as Lieutenant Riley. Let George do it is written by David Victor and Jackson Gillis and directed by Don Clark. Also heard in the cast were Joe Forte as French, Bob Griffin as Arnslow, Mark Lawrence as Atkins, Betty Moran as The Telegraph Girl and Martha Wentworth as The Landlady. The music is composed and presented by Eddie Dunstether, your announcer, John Heaston. Listen again next week, same time, same station, to Let George do it. This is the Mutual Don Lee Broadcasting System.