 That's the crackin' Johnny, the rest of the Justice Bureau. Wow, hiya, Pat. One, two, three in a row. Now what's that supposed to mean? A policy by the name of Jonathan Doe. Yeah, so what happened? He turned out to be a man who never existed. Only his disappearance was rigged by himself to get away from his wife. Not very cleverly done, however. Well, if you know what was a fake, what do you want me to do about it? Find him. What kind of charges? What if he hasn't collected? I'm afraid I don't get it. You will. Come on down here to the office. I'll tell you about it. Uh, is policy a big one? Very. Then you won't quibble over the size of my expense account. I didn't say that. So of course that's what you meant. Johnny. Okay, Pat. I'll be over in a few minutes. And now act one of your truly Johnny Dollar. Expense accounts submitted by Special Investigator Johnny Dollar to the Universal Adjustment Bureau Home Office, Hartford, Connecticut. Following his account of expenses incurred during my investigation of the little man who was there, matter. Bring mysterious disafferences in a row. I almost wished somebody'd set a fire, rob a bank for a change. But, expense account out of $1.20 for a cab to the Office of Universal Adjustment Bureau. As usual, Pat McCracken got straight to the point. Plain as day, Johnny. Howard L. Edwards insured his life for $50,000 double indemnity. So, beneficiary, his wife, Mary Louie. In other words, if he was accidentally killed, his wife would collect a cool $100,000. But he wasn't. He wasn't. You're sure? All the police down there incurred sorry thought otherwise at first. You know, when they discovered the way his car had toppled over into the Hudson River just above town. Is that the way he stayed? Uh-huh. But when they found out that Edwards and his wife were stony broke and had been for months, that if it wasn't for the finance company that had starred by now, that's what wised them up. But Pat, if they haven't found him or his body... Him. Johnny, him. According to the police, his wife finally broke down and confessed that they had planned to disappearing acts for quite some time. Ah. Oh, sure. They figured when his car was found is they'd think his body had washed down the Hudson, threw the narrows into the ocean, and the company would pay off. Yes. Then once she got the money, pack up and leave and meet him wherever it was they'd planned to meet. Would the company have paid off without a body, without absolute proof of death? Depend on the court. How smart a lawyer she got hold of. But what if they didn't have to wait for seven years for the statute of limitations to run out? Ah, that's what you think. Oh, this kind of fraud has been tried before, Johnny. And sometimes, I'm afraid, probably it's been got away with. So, with a hundred thousand dollars... So, if I find him, I get that nice fat fee we were talking about. That's right, that's the... No! Yet, look, and you take it easy with that free willing expense account, will you, for once? Well, Pat, I never do that. Or you find him for us, aren't you, Johnny? Just bring him in so we can throw the book at him. Okay. Give me his address, home to contact in Curse Ferry, and I'll see what I can do. Expense account item two, four eighty-five for a thankful guest. I decided to use my own car, not to save money for the company, but to save time for myself. My first contact down in Curse Ferry was police sergeant Ben Ringler, who had been in charge of the case right from the beginning. Headquarters was the back room of a small brick building that served the city hall. All right. You know how the highway skirts the edges of the river just about town? Well, it was rainy and wet that night. He missed the curb, hit it over the edge and rolled down to the river. At least that's what he tried to make it look like. You mean he deliberately ran that car into the river? Sure he did. There wasn't a sign of a skid mark. Uh, sergeant, how long after it happened did you find the car? Why, said he left home after dinner the night before. But after midnight, she called us, said to please go out and look for him. Like we got nothing to do but go out and look for some guy who was away from home a couple of hours. And you found the car? I'm telling you, I'm telling you. Some kid who was fishing down there, seen the wheel to the car sticking out of the water early the next morning after the rain. In other words, it's possible that if there had been skid marks, the rain might have obliterated. Oh, stop kidding yourself. Him and his wife were so broke they... What did Howard Edwards do for a living? Called himself an inventor. And listen, him and his wife even already had the house up for sale. So? Well, don't you see? As soon as she collected the insurance money, she could leave town and nobody think nothing of it. Mrs. Edwards, admit all this to you? Oh, are you kidding? Well? Of course not. But when she let slip about that planning of disappearances, well, Donald, no matter how you look at it, two and two makes four. Don't worry, she'll admit it before I'm through with her. I'm quite hard on her in my time. Maybe I'd better see and talk to her. Sure, go ahead. Make a break down and tell you where he's gone. If you can. Well, just what do you mean by that? Ah, you young kids think you're pretty smart. But, mister, you just try to get anything out of her. Oh, I can try. Yeah? Good luck, dollar. You're going to need it. Two of yours truly, Johnny Dollar, in a moment. Great scientific achievements usually are made through the combined efforts of many men. Such is the story of the Atlantic Cable, one of the outstanding milestones of the 19th century. But today the name of one man remains to remind us of that venture. The organizer and director, Cyrus W. Field, a retired paper merchant who risked his fortune, sanity, and integrity in an awesome adventure that lasted 12 long years. Field first was approached in regard to a short underwater cable to Newfoundland in 1854. After a huge investment of both money and energy, the cable was completed the following summer. Field then went to England to tackle the much larger problem of laying the Atlantic cable. Many futile attempts were made. Cable was broken, splices were made, cable was lost, tempers flew, and ship captains resigned and discussed. Still, Field wouldn't give up. Finally, on August 8th, 1858, it appeared that the project had been successfully completed. Cyrus Field went ashore and walked 15 miles to the nearest telegraph station. There he wired his wife, the Associated Press, and President Buchanan. He informed the President that Queen Victoria would telegraph her congratulations over the new cable. But before the Queen's message was completed, the line went dead. The much-hailed project was again a failure. Faulty insulation was blamed. In 1865, the largest steam boat afloat, the Great Eastern, made another attempt. Just 660 miles from Newfoundland, the cable parted. The inadequate hoisting tackle prevented its recovery. Field broke down on the web like a child. And yet, the very next year, he sailed with the Great Eastern for one more try. This time, every failure had been studied. Every provision made. On July 27th, 1866, Cyrus Field landed at Hart's Content. After personally cabling the unbelievable news, he immediately boarded the Great Eastern, retrieved the broken cable of the year before, spliced it, and laid the second Atlantic cable. Cyrus W. Field, another American who's driving energy, insisted that, somehow, there must be a way. Let's find it. And now, act two of yours truly, Johnny Dollar, and the little man who was there met her. Mrs. Edwards. I want to talk to you, Mrs. Edwards, about your husband. Why don't you policemen, leave me alone. I'm not the police, ma'am. Oh, yes you are. You're trying to fool me again, like the man who came yesterday. Like the one who kept calling me on the telephone. My name is Johnny Dollar, from the insurance company. You put your foot in the door like that, Peter Baskin yesterday. No, no, no, here. Here are my credentials, Mrs. Edwards. Johnny Dollar, insurance and... Oh, please, cut me in, Mr. Dollar. I'm so glad you've come. Maybe you can help to find Howard. Oh, I just can't believe he's dead. Well, that seems to agree with the police theory, Mrs. Edwards. Not the police. They've been terrible. They've been trying to drive me out of my mind, make me see a lot of things that aren't so. Day and night, they've been driving me crazy. Then Wrangler and that no-good son-in-law, he had them put on the force, coming here, questioning me, calling on the phone in the middle of the night. Well, it's terrible. And if losing Howard wasn't enough, it's... You've been, uh... You've been pretty much broken up over his death or disappearance, whichever it is. Well... No, Mr. Dollar. What? Please, sit down, sir. Thanks. The past few years, Howard has been so occupied with his invention. What kind of invention? A machine. A device of some kind for molding plastics. I'm afraid I don't know much about it. He wouldn't tell me. He kept to himself all the time. Well, he must have at least... There's like an obsession with him. He was so wrapped up in it that I'm afraid I haven't been much more than a... than a housekeeper for in these past few years. What have you been living on, Mrs. Edwards? The money I had ran out. We had to borrow, but now that's all gone. You, uh... You have your home up a sale. I noticed a sign out front. All that I... All that we have left. Unless, of course, you could collect the insurance on your husband. Yes, the insurance. Then I wouldn't have to worry anymore. I'd make up for all the years of struggling along and almost nothing and giving in. Now, wait a minute, Mrs. Edwards. Yes? You sound as though you'd like to have your husband proven dead. At least it would provide a decent living for me. After all, it sounds terrible, doesn't it? Yeah, it sure does. I didn't mean that I wish him dead. I only meant that... Well, if he is... When I first got here, you said you hoped I could find him. Yes. Yes, Mr. Dollar. Sure, sure. So that you and he could continue this sad life of poverty and not really getting along together? Oh, no, don't you see? We'd have money. Oh. Because of his invention. He'd finally found someone who would buy it for a lot of money and a lot of royalty when it's used. But now even that is gone. Gone? What do you mean gone? All the plans and drawings. He took them with him that night. And just where was he taking them? To the man, the company, whatever it was. He was selling it too. At least I think he was. In the middle of the night? No, they're all gone somewhere in Hudson River. You told the police about this? Yes, I told Ben Ringler. He found no sign of them in the car? No. That son-in-law, that Peter Moskini, that I was lying about those papers. All right, Mrs. Edwards, listen to me. Yes. Considering the relationship of you and your husband, wouldn't it be logical for him to leave you, sell his invention for whatever he could get and live happily on the money all by himself? And just leave me with nothing? Yeah. No. No, in spite of... Oh, no, Mr. Golly, he wouldn't do that. I didn't say leave you with nothing. All he had to do was make it look as though he'd been killed. Make it look? That's right, in a car accident. Oh, no. That's the way you planned it, isn't it? Then you'd both be taken care of. Free of each other and with plenty of money. No, Mr. Dahler. Didn't you admit to the police that you two planned his disappearance? Oh, no. Hold him. Ben Ringler and that son-in-law... Told him what? That before Howard knew his invention would work, that he could sell it. Howard did talk of going away, so he could work on it undisturbed without... without me under his feet. That's all I said. Ben told your insurance company. Ben made it sound like... Oh, don't you believe me, Mr. Dahler? I... I'll see you later. Item three, a dollar even for a bite to eat at the local lunch wagon. Then I went back to headquarters where I found not only Sergeant Ben Ringler, but his son-in-law, patrolman Peter Baskin. I found him very busy playing checkers. Come on, Pete. Crown me. Yes, sir. There you are. And now you can give up. Like dollars is on this case of his. I'll set him up again. Didn't get a thing out of him, Mr. Edwards, did you? Maybe I did. Just like I told you it... Huh? You mean you did get something out of a dollar? Where's the chief of this police department? Been away a couple of weeks. I'm in charge. Well, if he had any sense of duty, he'd be back here. Hey, what do you mean by that? Pete, I mean that you and your father-in-law have considered only two possibilities. Have we? The first was accidental death. Listen, I told you... Yeah, you told me. You eliminated that. Sure did. The other was deliberate disappearance. And that's what it was. But there's another Ben, the one I'm going to work on. Yeah, what's that? Johnny? Murder. Three of yours truly, Johnny Dollar, in a moment. Our Constitution is a flexible document. It has changed with the changing years to meet changed conditions. An example is the way in which we elect our United States senators. When the Constitution was ratified and for 125 years thereafter, the people could not elect their own senators. Instead, the senators were chosen by the state legislatures. The founding fathers believed in democracy, but they did not want their new republic to be wrecked by irresponsible mob rule. Democracy was a new form of government. Most of the voters had little knowledge and less experience in governing themselves. And so the Constitution provided that while the people could elect their representatives to Congress, they could not elect their senators directly. A century and a quarter of experience in self-government made such a safeguard against mob rule obsolete. And by 1912, the people were ready to demand the right to elect their senators by popular vote. They received this right in the 17th Amendment to our Constitution. This amendment illustrates how our Constitution lives and grows in our changing world to the end that this country of yours and mine shall be our country on the God. And now act three of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. I learned from Sergeant Ringler and his sporty pants son-in-law that Mr. Edwards' car had been left untouched where they'd hauled it out of the river north of Curse Ferry. It was late in the afternoon, but item four there in police headquarters, $1.30 for a phone call to another headquarters, the 18th precinct down in New York. This lieutenant's singer. Hey, Johnny Dollar, Randy, I want you to do something for me. Johnny, long time no see. Yeah, listen, will you? Have you got somebody in the crew who can come up here to Curse Ferry and give me a hand? Somebody who knows something about fingerprints? So what? Top man like Marty Levitt. How soon can he get here? What's it all about? How soon? It's getting late. It's getting dark. Okay, Randy, thanks. Now, look, Dollar, you think we can't handle these things good enough ourselves? Yeah, Dollar. Yeah, that's exactly what I think. It was dark by the time Marty Levitt arrived, but he had a flashlight in his kit and I brought along my own. So I drove him on to where the car sat up between the highway and the river. His examination was quick and efficient. Now, when he'd finished... What? What did you say? Holy... How to wonder a lot of cars and trucks. Don't miss that curve. Oh, this one, Johnny. I don't get it. What do you mean, Marty? Johnny, I haven't uncovered a single fingerprint, except for some old ones on the gas cap, under the hood, that sort of thing. And except for Mr. Edward's own prints on the steering wheel and gear shift lever. No. Huh? Steering wheel, gear shift, light switch, door handles, everything. White screen. Well, of course, this wreck was in the river a few hours. I don't care if it was in there a week. They'd still be on it. There aren't even any prints from whoever hauled it out of the river. Marty, sure, Johnny. Somebody carefully wiped him off. And people don't do that without a reason. So, where do you go from here? I, uh... Yeah. I drove Marty into his train for New York. Then, purely on a hunch, drove over to the Edward's house. Every light in the place was on, and through the windows I could see, Mrs. Edward's apparently aimlessly but frantically rushing from one room to another, then back again. Mrs. Edward, this is Johnny Dollar. Oh, Mrs. I was only down to the drug store for a few minutes, not more than 15 minutes. And look what he did to my house. He ransacked it. Oh! I don't know. It's so dark out. He ran out the back way when I came in. Have you found anything, Mr....? I don't know. I haven't... Is this your husband's desk? Yes, yes, it is. It's to me like this with the target. It's the rest of the house, and the closet's the bureau. Oh, sure. To keep you from realizing this was what he was after. Wait! How it kept that locked? Yeah, it has been broken open. I was never allowed to look in his desk. Did you call the police? The police. Now what would they do after the way they've treated me? Fortina Plastic Company. Marino Plastic Molding Corporation. General Easton. They were the ones that turned him down, I think. Oh, wait a minute, wait a minute. He is part of a lot of that. Another scrap caught in this crack here. Apparently overlooked him. Something town plastics incorporated. Yes, Bridgetown. I think... I think that was the name of the company that was going to... Wait now, wait now. Through your local authority. Read to represent us these negotiations. They are encouraged to suggest you contact Mr... No wonder, Mrs. Edwards. What? Mr. Dalla? The man your husband went to meet that night to make a deal on his invention. What? Recommended by some of the local authorities, huh? I don't understand. Oh, believe me, he's hanged himself Oh, Mr. Dalla, who? When he realized how much the invention was worth, instead of negotiating with your husband, he decided to kill him. Yeah, ran his car into the river with him in it. And you know who he is? You'll never tell, Dalla. Peter Baskin. You or anybody else. You know something, Pete. This isn't gun smoke. What? But if you think you can outdraw me, Pete... Oh, Mr. Dalla! Pete, I didn't know it was you until you came in here waving this gun. Johnny Dalla, as acting chief of police for the town of Curse-Ferry, I arrest you for the... Oh, put that thing down, Banna. Do you want some of the same? I don't know, Dalla. Cross it over on the floor. And I not only suspect that Curse-Ferry is going to have a new police force, but who knows? You and Pete might even share the same electric chair. Sure, it's up to the court. But when the state police came in and found the papers on the invention hidden away in Pete's house, the plan invention, by the way, now belongs to Mrs. Edward, to say nothing of the insurance money, 50 pounds. So Pat, I'll let you off the hook real easy. Expensive out total, including some more gas for my car to give you back to Hartford. $12.34. Yours truly, $20. He originates in Hollywood and is written, produced and directed by Jack Johnstone. Heard in our cast for Virginia Gregg, Larry Dovekin, Ralph Moody, Gil Stratten, Herb Beigren, This is Jim Matthews speaking. Herb has come to you through the worldwide facilities of the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service.