 Log entry, the catch-scarlet queen, Philip Carney, mastered. Position 120 degrees, 29 minutes east, 14 degrees north. Wind, light, sky overcast. Remarks departed port of Manila 9 a.m. after cancelling shore leave for crew. Reason for unscheduled departure, the barefoot nymph in the mother-hubbard jacket. It was four days out of Swatau, China, that we raised the island of Luzon on the eastern horizon and stood in toward Manila. I swung the scarlet queen a little north of her course, and we passed close under the rocks of Correia door. Every eye on our decks was turned toward the squat fortification for a minute. By this time, they were covered with jungle growth again and were loudly silent in the manner of monuments that hold the stories of men who made the monuments. Beyond the island, we could see the steaming mass of the tan. We swung back into Manila Bay. Manila should have been a friendly, relaxing port for all of us. It meant a break in our voyage under charter to Kangin Sun. To my crewmen, it meant the longest shore leave they'd had since we left San Francisco, and girls who knew what that meant to American seamen. To my chief mate Gallagher, it was like a home state picnic. The harbor was jammed with freighters and tankers from the state. That meant that the Belanga Street bars were jammed with their crews. And that meant that Gallagher was jammed in with them, running into old friends and making new ones. Manila should have been a holiday. And it was for three days and two nights. At 10 o'clock the third night, I was in the cabin alone, summing through the latest hydrographic bulletin I've been able to find in town, when I heard somebody running down the dock toward the queen. What's the matter, her husband's sure? Come on, calm down. What's the automatic play? Yeah, we're just skipping. Come on, give it to me, Red. Get away from me, stupid. You're off your nut. What happened? Who'd you kill, the president? I might if he gets in the way. Gallagher! While I'd made an automatic loosen Manila, there wasn't much time for the hydrographic bulletin. I closed it, locked my desk, and went out after him. And so Mutual continues the voyage of the Scarlet Queen, written by Gildowd and Bob Tolman, and starring Elliot Lewis. Queen, proudest ship to plow the seas, bound for uncharted adventure. Every week a complete entry in the log, and every week a league further in the strange voyage of the Scarlet Queen. When Gallagher is being pushed by temper or is in a hurry, he walks as though he's working up against the incline of a pitching deck in a storm. His body bends forward from a point almost as low as his feet. His shoulders pull up protectively on each side of his head, and his arms barely swing in short arcs. I followed him up to Botanist Street, across the railroad tracks, through the park on Ambil and Dewey Boulevard, and to the left on Belanger. We passed three bars, and I could hear the fourth from the half a block away. The dimly lighted sign that hung outside said Victory Cabaret, but judging from the din of battle that poured out at us as we approached, somebody had been a little premature in naming it. The activity was going on in the center of what was left of a large bar room. But then I found him in the center, and then I saw him heading toward a door at the rear as we stopped at another door, halfway down a long dimly lit hall by the time I caught up with him. He opened it. The room was furnished with a broken window, a woman who looked like Miss America, and a man who should have been in a morgue instead of sprawled on his face where he was. Listen, Lester, what's the beef? It started over Lona here, but it wasn't her fault. She was here with Peterson, and this drunk started pouring in. Peterson poked him. That's why it started. Who was that guy, Lona? You know him? I've met him, yes. His name's Mason Raffer, something like that. I don't know him. I don't know why he picked on me. I don't know why he picked. I'm not sure. Sure, he's the one that killed Peterson, but who else could it have been? He was wearing a gun. He started to pull it after Pete's slugged it. How'd you get mixed up in this, Rhett? Of course he pulled that gun. That's when I slugged him. And that's when he took a shot at me, and that's when I got sore. Yeah, yeah, okay. Now you've collected a shiner and a split lip. You've had a fine night. Now it's time for bed. Come on, let's go. Rhett, please. You promised me you'd help me out of this. Why? I'm afraid to leave here alone. I don't know where that Mason is or anything. The whole thing's so crazy. I'm just scared to death. Oh, how it works. Get back home, will ya? Why me? I didn't ask you to tag along, did I? But now that you're here, do something. I want to stick with Pete till I can get word to his ship. I hope somebody's around to do the same thing for me sometime. At this rate, it won't be long. Well, thanks, Skipper. Well, you want to fight your way out through the bar or with a nice broken back window in the quiet alley, do you? It was easier getting out than it had been coming in. I slipped out first. I crunched onto the glass, the window glass, on the ground. I waited quietly for a minute to see if the noise had raised anybody. I gave the alley a quick once over. There was nobody in sight. But just as I started to turn back to the building, I caught a glitter of metal in the light from the window. It was a small nickel-plated revolver lying on the other side of the alley. Now, if the gunman had tossed it there, it was all right with me. I left it for the cops. Lona followed me out. In five minutes, we were in one of Manila's cries, two-wheeled horse-drawn rigs. And we were headed for her address. I wonder what's going to happen. The law is going to show up, and they're going to start scattering the bones. What usually happens with murder. I'm so scared I don't know what to do. Oh, come on, calm down. You're a beautiful dam, and a couple of guys started fighting over you. In fact, the whole joint finally was. You're just living in the wrong century, that's all. Women thrived on that kind of stuff a few hundred years ago. I suppose the police will get my name, won't they? You'll be lucky if they don't. Oh, dear. That'll mean my job. They all started out to be an evening of just fun. Look, Lona, I don't feel quite as sorry for you as you do. I'll tell you why, maybe it'll help you. It started out to be an evening of just fun for Peterson, too, didn't it? I'm sorry, Scott. All right. Now, is there something else you'd like to talk about? No, I guess you said everything. The trip was not comfortable, but it was silent. We clapped across the Pasig River and turned down a wide thoroughfare that led in the general direction of the exclusive residential district under Tagate Bridge. The direction surprised me only a little, but her address when we finally reached it was as far removed as Manhattan's Beekman Place from the Victory Cabaret in class, if not in miles. It was a graceful mansion set behind a well-tended lawn that was made precisely irregular by a few neat garden plots made primally informal by a number of mango and papaya trees that threw cautious shadows in the faint moonlight. Well, aren't you going to let me out? Yeah, you're sure this is the right address. Do you want to come in? No, thanks. I'm confused enough out here. You're a refreshing guy, Skipper. The helpless dame, and there are no passes or anything. Nothing but a brotherly remark about my being beautiful. Yeah. I'm always shy with women I take away from dead men. You kicked me all the way up from Belanger Street. I guess you just had to kick me into the house, didn't you? Good night, Skipper. Thanks. Good night, Lona. Hey, Kachero. Back to the Victory Cabaret, Belanger Street. I paid my Kachero off and headed into the Victory Cabaret. The only person in sight was a hefty, barrel-wasted bartender who was pushing a broom at the litter on the floor. Keep your pain in your pocket, mate. I ain't open for business. Yeah, so I see. What happened? What happened? Well, I'll tell you. There was no more than a friendly little scuffle. Yeah, looks like. If you're the handsome, if you're the ship, it's going to show off for a good time. The cops get here? And it cost me a few thousand dollars. And somebody's got to keep up the morale in the Merchant Marine. A nice bunch of boys. The cops. Couldn't they help you? That's a good question. Anybody kill? So I hear, one outright and a half or dozen, they wasn't quite sure of. You missing any friends? Yeah, one big red-headed guy wearing a jumper with the sleeves rolled up tattooing on his arms. With a name like Gallagher. He's a friend of yours, you say? Yeah, why? You better be careful who you admit it to. They got him booked for murder. They're nuts. Oh, I don't know. The fella was shot in one of my rooms back there. And they sneaked up on this Gallagher. He was outside the window with a gun that then the shooting's still in his hand. They're nuts. I saw that gun lying out there in the alley myself. I can prove Gallagher didn't kill him. That's the story. You better find another port. And while we're on the subject of moving, get out of here, will you? I lost enough friends in the forest tonight. I walked out of the door 10 steps up the sidewalk. And then five steps back. I watched the bartender pick up the telephone. This time, I took a cab to Lona's address. I wondered what she'd say now about involving her name when it was the clear red. I had a few answers for that. And I was working on a few things to say to Gallagher for standing there in that alley with a murder weapon in his hand when we pulled up in front of the house. By the time I reached the door, I knew it was no good. It was 1 AM, but I had a hunch that for Lona the day hadn't ended. Oh, shipper. I hope it isn't too late. It never is at my house. Come on in. She had a sort of breathless expression when she talked to me. The corners of her mouth were drawn up slightly into a bare trace of a smile. Her lips were always separated, just a little. Her eyes were warm and brown. She led me through a short haul and down three steps into a large, carelessly furnished room. She was dressed in a hostess gown of some light-clinging material. Her hair went with her eyes, and it hung just short of shoulder length, and her feet were bare. We crossed the room, went into a den that had a tile floor, low-wide bamboo furniture, wide-screened windows that looked out onto a side garden. This is my favorite room. Do you like it? Yeah, great. I don't think you really like rooms. Some men don't. Ta-da. No, no, no, there. You'll see my injections. I paint a little. Over here on the chair, here. You've been drinking, or shall I mix one for you? I haven't been drinking, and I'd like one. All right. How'd you know I'd be back? Because I asked you. I didn't hear you. I didn't ask you with words. I asked you with me. Oh, you're an amazing little creature. Why are you looking at me like that? You've changed so many times tonight, that I can't stay abreast of you. I change all the time, so I won't become monotonous. That's the only way I can stand myself. Which one of me do you like the best? This one, bare-footed, with your hair down. I was brushing my hair when you rang the bell. I don't think many women do, but I love my hair. So soft. Feel it. Where do you come from? Every place. Do that with my hair some more. What's your other name besides Skipper, I mean? Phil. What's the matter? Nothing. Nothing, darling. Glass just rolled off and broke. A minute, I didn't know what it was. That sound will be this night, even when I'm old. Your nice, tanned face, and your blue eyes, and your strong hands. You think I'm beautiful, don't you? I think you're beautiful. Good to be with someone who thinks you're beautiful. Yes, I know. Darling, Phil, I'm so happy. It's so good to be beautiful with you. Maybe it would have been different if I hadn't been afraid of her, or if I hadn't been convinced that everything she said or did had purpose, or if I hadn't known that each of us was waiting for the other to bring up the subject of Gallagher's arrest. But there was no doubt about one thing. And it was hard to keep it from overshadowing anything else. As she repeatedly stated, as she loved to state, as she loved to hear me repeatedly state, that she was beautiful from any measurement or any comparison. But even she dropped the subject after a while. Make mine weaker than yours, will you, Phil? Let's put it the other way. I'll make mine stronger than yours. It makes you happier that way, I'm willing. Oh, better get this glass off the deck unless you expect me to carry you around the rest of the night. How long are you going to be in Manila's skippers? No, I don't know. I wish it was going to be for a long time. Yeah, it might be. Phil, listen to me. I've got to say this. You've got to know I mean it. Happens, but it never happened to me. And now I think it could. I could fall in love. Don't laugh at me. Don't joke. I'm not joking. For the first time in my life, I think it could happen. I'm sure you mean that as a great compliment. Somehow it doesn't hit me. Oh, Phil, why are you acting like this? Because I don't believe you. I've never had any reason to believe you because I've gotten nothing but lies from you ever since I met you. But I'm not lying. Why are you treating me like this? What other way is there? You're a great little animal to have around the house, but you're only safe when you're out in front where somebody can watch you. All right, Phil. Maybe you know what you're trying to say. So do you. Well, one thing, you killed Peterson. I did not. You were lying, man. You said he was shot from outside the window, and he wasn't. He was shot by somebody inside the room. You were the only one there. I didn't kill him. Now, don't think I haven't enjoyed your so-illuring hospitality. But the smiling, spontaneous welcome I got at the door doesn't hold water. Because I'll bet you my ship that you knew I was on the prowl and probably heading this way 40 minutes before I got here, and you heard it from the bartender at the Victory Cabaret. I saw him go to the phone. What are you supposed to do? Hold me here. And for why? What do you want, Phil? I want my chief mate. I'll trade you or anybody else in on him. Oh, Phil, why did you wait? If you suspected these things, why did you go through with the sham of life? All I want is my chief mate. If you don't start doing something about it, I will. All right, Phil. I have to make a couple of calls or phones in the other room. You carry me. Hm? Oh, yeah. It was the deal, wasn't it? I wonder why it had to be this way, Phil. I don't know. I don't know what your game is, and I don't care. But you will run it before I will. Phil, Red was only a coincidence, really, he was. He just happened to know Cliff Peterson and sit down with us. And then the stupid Redhead, he had to go out the window and find that gun and be standing there when the police showed up. So then Delky had the brainstorm and twist the story. Who's Delky, the bartender? Yes, he told the cops that Gallagher instead of Mason had made the pass. I mean, that started the whole thing. And he went after Peter. Yeah, yeah. All right, here's your phone. Do you believe me? How in the devil should I know when to believe in when not to? I told you, I don't care. All I want is my chief mate. When I get him, I'll believe anything. Gallagher was just supposed to stall things until Mason could get back to the States. He was leaving in the morning. I was supposed to hold you until his ship arrived. All right, fine. Let him find somebody else for a stall. Well, you're going to start with the chief of police? Well, the police think even less of me than you do. We have to settle this between Ralph Mason and Delky and myself. You're going to bring them out here? Where else? Looks like I'm going to be outnumbered, doesn't it? I stood by her when she made her calls. And as far as I could figure, they were straight. Just strong invitations to get to the house as quickly as possible. Then she made a typical exit into another part of the house, and I went back to the den. I thought the least I could do was to get rid of the jagged edges of our brief and hypocritical romance. So I got a bar towel and pushed the broken glass under the couch. When she came in, she'd gone through another complete change. She was dressed like her front lawn, primly, informal, and beige slacks, topped by an overmodest jacket, buttoned high around her throat, and hanging loosely like a mother hubbard to her waist. It shouldn't be long, Phil. Maybe we could have a neat one while we wait. Yeah, sure, Senor. Incidentally, I don't like your new character. It's all right for the time of night, isn't it? I guess so. I think I ought to warn you, Phil. Mason is dangerous. He'll try to buy you off first. Find me off of what? He'll try to talk you into sep... Do you want to go to the door with me? Or do you trust me enough to let me meet him? You can't think of anybody I ever trusted less. Go ahead. MUSIC Mr. Carney, this is Ralph Mason, and I believe you said that you'd met Mr. Delky. Yeah. Yeah. What's on your mind, Connie? My chief make. I want him out of jail. I got enough on that mess in the victory cab ready to tell a pretty good story. It's a pretty good story the way it stands. Cops like it. They won't by the time I get through with it. Just one thing. The glass from that window that was supposed to have been broken from the outside. None of it's inside the room where it should be. You think that's enough? Since they arrested Gallagher standing on the outside looking in, it might be. Even Manila cops should change their mind on that one. The story could wait, couldn't it? Not the way I see it. No. Here's your head, mate. Don't be rude. What's your price, Connie? To leave your mate in a jug until we're clear of this. Well, the truth, you can get him out anytime. It's pretty high. I'm leaving tomorrow. I'll start with $15,000. I don't think you can go high enough, Mason. You might as well quit. All I need is a patsy, and I don't care who it is. May I say something, Ralph? I don't quite see why we have to bargain with Captain Connie. You didn't hesitate about Peterson after his double cross, Ralph. Now Captain Connie is in the way. When you hate, you hate real good, don't you? It's business, Captain. I use such bad judgment when I offer to let you join our little organization. You what? What are you talking about? Captain Connie has a ship that would fit into our inter-island work. I'm so afraid I made a mistake. I explained the type of contraband that was coming in from the states, the prices we were getting for it, and how there were opportunities for a man like him. I'm so sorry. He led me to believe that he was interested. You're a sucker for men, Lorna. You found Peterson, too. That cost us $30,000 worth of stateside liquor and frame once to get it over here. Peterson sold it on his own. Not quite on his own, Ralph. He didn't have any contacts here. Who was in with him? Well, I was his very best friend in Manila. Why are you dirty? Mason shoved his chair out of the way behind him as he got up and started reaching inside his coat for a shoulder hold. That's when the mother-hubbered jacket lifted a little on the right side, and Lorna's manicured hand pulled a belly gun from the waistband of her slacks. He spoke twice quickly and effectively, and Mason stiffened, and his right hand stopped an inch away from his gun butt, and he toppled slowly backward across his overturned chair. Now, if you don't ask one question, I have this all worked out. But Lorna, you can solve the murder in your cabaret. You take Mason down to the police. Tell them the story of how the glass is on the wrong side of the window. You tell them you captured Mason single-handed, and you'll gain a whole lot of new customers. Well, they believe me, Lorna. It's the truth, isn't it? And here's the gun you captured him with to prove it. Now get him out of here. Good heavens, look at that floor. I wonder what this all meant, Phil. Hm? Oh, what, Lorna? This thing we live through, it's been important, hasn't it? Yeah, slightly. Two guys didn't make it. Isn't what I mean. We did move everything and make this little room the center of the world, didn't we? I wish I knew what you meant. You wonder if I'm still in love with you, don't you? Handedly, by this time, I don't know what I wonder. I could be, Phil. I'm afraid it's impractical. If you just hold me just once more, tell me once more. You're a beautiful woman. And I'll always remember the glasses, Phil. It's getting late. You'll have to go. Well, couldn't we have one more drink? Oh, no, I wouldn't dare. I've got to put my hair in braid and straighten the house up. My husband is coming home in the morning. Don't worry so about me. I have to have everything just so. Your husband? Where is he? Oh, he has gold mines in Mindoro. He's much older than I am. But he's rich. He allows me to stay here in Manila with my hobbies. Goodbye, Captain Corning. By 9 that morning, Gallagher had been released. I'd rounded up the rest of my men and we slipped away from our birth and headed out through Manila Bay. We picked up a moist hot wind at the mouth. Through stumble to their stations, every man bared to the waist and glistening wet. Even the mantle looked tired as it struggled up the main mist and reached hopefully out for a pulling breeze. From smart leave as the gyps crawled out, then the mizzen boom swung sullenly over my head. And the queen rolled slowly down toward Verde Island Passage, the Sabuyin Sea beyond. Well, I had a good rest last night, but it looks like I'm the only one aboard to this. Oh, lay off, Bray. Look at that crew. It's a disgrace. I'm half a mind to turn them all to holy stone in the deck from barter's turn. Take over, will you, Red? Not on your life. This is your watch, and I'm going to take my exercise. That Manila jail air is invigorating. Now lay off, will you, Red? Don't forget, I was sitting in the cabin with a hydrographic bulletin' when you busted in. Take it easy, Kipper. Go on below. I'll take your trick. Ah, the devil you will. Just wait until you crawl aboard the next time. And don't think you haven't done it before. I'll hand you some sympathy. What are my chances in the next four? Bear, and I'll be waiting for you. It's mustbate. Mustbate? What do you know about that jail? Nothing. And before I take a nap, what is your outstanding recollection of the capital of the Philippines? Some broken glass I pushed under a bamboo couch. And I wonder what her husband's going to say. That's funny you mentioned that, Kipper. I met her husband in jail. He was in for murder. Would he kill the wife? No. The smooth talking stranger. Drink, Kipper. He killed the wrong one. F.E.U. made F.E.U. Log entry, the Ketch Scarlet Queen, 5.30 p.m. Miles Cavill from San Francisco, 9,450. Wind, light, sky overcast, sea leadening, carrying full sail, ship secure for night, signed Philip Carney, master. I've come to you through the worldwide facilities of the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service.