 And now, stay tuned for the mystery program that is unique among all mystery programs. Because even when you know who's guilty, you always receive a startling surprise at the final curtain. In the signal oil program, the Whistler. The famous Go Farther Gasoline invites you to sit back and enjoy another strange story by 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. I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. And now, for the signal oil company, the Whistler's strange story. Man Hunt. For over an hour, the man in the trench coat had been standing at the window of the penthouse atop the Chase Weatherly apartment building, staring down into the rain-swept street below. The panic to fear was gone now, and his mind was functioning smoothly, efficiently. The situation was no longer completely hopeless. Because out of the nightmare, a solution had emerged. A bold, dangerous solution. A fantastic plan, really, but it could work. And for him, there was no choice. He had to take this one chance for survival, his own survival. Finally, the man turned, hurried across the room, stepped out into the corridor, closed the door behind him with a gloved hand, and walked to the elevator. Riding down to the lobby, he scarcely heard the words of the operator. His thoughts were concerned only with the plan he was soon to set into motion. His big gamble was almost underway. Yeah, Mr. Stevens, we sure have been having lousy weather for June. Last month wasn't anything to brag about either. You understand, Mr. Stevens, that don't bother meaning on the weather. Only Mr. Hodgkis, he does. What did you say that name? Mr. Hodgkis, the Genton 403, you know who he is. Oh, yes, yes, yes, sir. Always he keeps nagging me about the weather. So this is California. Every time I see him, he gives it to me. So this is California. So why don't he go back to Florida? Someday I'm going to tell him off. I'm going to tell him good. Good night, that name. Oh, yeah, good night. Good night, Mr. Stevens. You hurry across the lobby. And as you reach the entrance and step out into the street, you turn. See the elevator operator settle down in a chair behind the lobby desk. Spread open the evening newspaper. It's only a matter of time now, isn't it, Mr. Stevens, before he learns your secret? A secret that may cost your life. But it's too late to turn back now. A block away on a quiet side street you slip out of the broad-shouldered padded trench coat. Toss it into the luggage compartment of your car. You remove the heavy horned rim glasses you've been wearing. Then you drive across town to your own apartment. The card beside your door reads, Mr. and Mrs. Clifford Graham. Chan, your houseboy greets you as you step into the hall and close the door behind you. Oh, good evening, Mr. Graham. Hello, Chan. Did I have dinner yet, Mr. Graham? No, it's Mrs. Graham around. Oh, yes, Mrs. Graham waiting. Glad you, Clifford. Yes, dear. Cousins, you are late today. Well, I ran into an old friend, Alma. I had a few drinks. We're due at the Ellison's at nine, you know. The Ellison's? For God, didn't you? It's completely slipped my mind. Look, Alma... You have a headache. At least that's what I'm supposed to tell the Ellison. You don't mind, do you? No, I suppose not. No, I'm not too keen on going over there myself, but really, one of us should go. Yes, I know. I know. I owe it to Eleanor after all. She's been so sweet. Oh, Clifford, have you seen tonight's paper? No, no. It's a sci-fi page, darling. A photograph taken at the Polo Matches Saturday. We're in it. So were the Fallon's. Maj, Eleanor, she called me about it this afternoon. It was such a surprise. I had no idea the photograph had been taken. Had you? No, no, I didn't know, Alma. It's not very flattering of you, really. But not good of me, I thought. Quite a good likeness. The paper's there on the living room table, Clifford. All right, Alma. I really should be getting dressed. You sure you won't change your mind about going to the Ellison? No, no, you run along. You walk into the living room, pick up the newspaper and stare at the photograph again. Alma's right, isn't she, Cliff? It isn't a good likeness of you, but good enough for Danny, the elevator operator, at the Chase Weatherly and Mr. Hutchkes. You're certain they'll see it. Identify you as the man they know as Stevens. You wait until your wife, Alma, is gone. Then you hurry downstairs to your car. And 15 minutes later, you make a key move in the dangerous plan you've evolved. You're at police headquarters telling your story to Lieutenant Powell. You see, Lieutenant, I received a phone call this afternoon at my office. I'm with the Pacific Wholesale Drug Company, a general manager. My wife owns the firm. See, her father... Go on, Mr. Graham. Well, the call was from a woman. She said her name was Julie Thompson, that she had some information for me. And just what was this information? She said someone was going to blackmail me. Apparently she was supposed to take part in the scheme somehow, but she must have changed her mind, decided she wanted no part of it. I see. And I'm supposed to meet her in the park tomorrow morning, the North entrance. She's to explain everything to me. And naturally, she expects to be paid for the tip, huh? Oh, naturally. All right, Mr. Graham. I'll have a couple of my men there at the park in the morning. We'll pick her up when she contacts you. Thank you, Lieutenant. By the way, did she name your would-be blackmailer? Yes. Yes, she did. The man's name is Stevens. It's done, isn't it, Cliff? You've set your bold plan into motion. It's a big chance you've taken, a long shot, but you've taken it. And now there's nothing to do but wait. Early the following morning is you're getting dressed to keep your appointment at the park. Excuse me, Mr. Graham. Yes, who is it, Chan? Telephone. Police. Lieutenant Paul. Oh. All right, Chan, thanks. Yes, Lieutenant. You won't have to keep that appointment in the park after all, Mr. Graham. What do you mean? We've already found Julie Thompson. I'm calling from her place now. Better come right over. Of course, Lieutenant. Where are you? The Chase Weatherly, penthouse. Julie Thompson's been murdered. Next Sunday we expect to be able to announce on the Whistler winners of the Buick and next 12 prizes in Signals Big $10,000 Contest. Meantime, I have good news for all of you that we're going to be needing new tires in order to enjoy a safer, carefree vacation trip. For only $9.95 plus taxes and your old tire, you can now buy a genuine Lee tire in the popular $600 or $6.40 by $16 size at signal service stations. I don't confuse this $9.95 Lee Staghound tire with ordinary low price tires, in which quality is cut in order to cut costs. All the materials that go into Lee's Staghound tire are exactly the same quality as those in the Lee Deluxe. In fact, the only difference is that the Lee Deluxe tire is somewhat heavier and has a thicker tread. That's why Lee can back this new tire with a double guarantee. Not only against effective materials and workmanship, but also against road hazards. All this quality for $9.95. So remember, if you want to pay less and still be sure of top quality, the tire to get is the Lee Staghound tire and the place to get it at a signal service station. Yes, Cliff. Julie Thompson is dead. You killed her, didn't you? Because she'd seen your photograph in the newspaper. Found out that you were really Clifford Graham, wealthy socialite. That Fred Stevens was just a name you'd used with her. She was going to blackmail you. In a moment of blind rage, you lashed out with your fists. And as she fell, her head struck the edge of the desk. It was all over in an instant, wasn't it? And you realized that you were trapped. The police would soon be looking for the man known as Stevens. And the newspaper photograph, Cliff. The elevator operator would certainly see it. Mr. Hutchkiss, too. And they'd identify you, Clifford Graham, as the mysterious Mr. Stevens. And then suddenly an idea hit you. A big gamble, but you decided to take it. Now your bold plan is in full motion. And you're on your way to the debt woman's penthouse at the Chase Weatherly as the police lieutenant requested. And when you arrive, an officer leads you through the living room crowded with men from homicide and takes you out to the sun deck where Lieutenant Powell is waiting. Last night's newspaper in his hand. Sit down, Mr. Graham. Thank you, Lieutenant. You've seen this, I suppose. Oh, yes, yes. It was taken at the Polo matches. Not a very good likeness, I'm afraid. Sergeant, bring Rizzo in, will you? Right, Lieutenant. Elevator operator here brought this photograph for you to my attention this morning, Mr. Graham. Oh? Mm-hmm. Says it looks a lot like Stevens. Well, that's what he says. You ought to know, Stevens visited Miss Thompson regularly here. You mean that you... Oh, now, really, Lieutenant, that's ridiculous. Is it? Of course, I've never set foot in this building before. Oh, look here, Lieutenant, are you serious? I'm not in the habit of being funny, Mr. Graham. Lieutenant, this is utterly fantastic. Let's see what Rizzo has to say about it. Here's Rizzo, sir. Uh, what can I do for you, Lieutenant? Rizzo, this is Mr. Graham. Oh. Yeah. Stand up, will you, Mr. Graham? Now, uh, take a look at him, Rizzo. Take a very good look. It's come, hasn't it, Cliff? The moment you've been expecting. Brought face-to-face with Danny, the elevator operator, then you're certain he'll identify you as Stevens. For a full minute, he stands there, staring at you. And then a strange expression spreads slowly over his face. Well, Rizzo? No. No, Lieutenant, this isn't Mr. Stevens. You're sure? I'm sure. What about this picture in the newspaper? Well, it's a resemblance all right, but this man here... Mr. Graham? Yeah. Mr. Graham. He's not Mr. Stevens. You're shocked, aren't you, Cliff? You were certain Danny would positively identify you as Mr. Stevens. And you were prepared to fight the situation from there. But now Danny Rizzo has said no. Definitely no. That you are not Stevens. Puzzled you, doesn't it, Cliff? You wonder if you've really fooled Danny, or if he's up to something. After he's gone, there are more questions by the Lieutenant. And then finally, someone else is brought to the Sunday. Sit down, Mr. Hutchkiss. Well, thank you. Thank you, Lieutenant. Mr. Hutchkiss, this is Mr. Graham. Oh, well, how do you do, Mr. Graham? Something wrong? Well, did you see Mr. Graham? Yeah. But he... He looks like Stevens? Well, yes, yes he does. Something like Stevens. Just something? Well, let me look at him more closely. Yes, there is a resemblance, all right, but I don't know. I remember Stevens as different somehow. Of course, I only saw Stevens a couple of times. Ever speak to him? No, no, I never did. I see. Did Miss Thompson ever mention Stevens to you? Yes, yes she did. Let me see, several months ago, she had a few friends in one night for cocktails. She'd been kind enough to invite me. What'd she have to say about him? Well, it was rather strange. I don't know why she picked on me, told me what she did. I suppose it was on her mind, she had to tell somebody. Well, anyway, we were standing out here, and all of a sudden she just started talking about him. They, she and Stevens, had been married. Married? Uh-huh, New Orleans, 1940. That's where she met him. Oh, it only lasted a few months. He took what money she had and walked out on her. She hadn't seen him again in all those years. Go on. Well, then let me see now. I suppose it was a week or later. That would be about two months ago. I ran into Miss Thompson downstairs in the lobby. She told me she'd just bumped into Stevens on the street that afternoon. And she seemed, well, she seemed very happy. And you say she met him again about two months ago? Yes, that's right, Lieutenant. And after that, this Stevens started coming around, huh? Yes, I saw him several times in the elevator, once or twice with Miss Thompson. But I'd say that Stevens was bigger, heavier than Mr. Graham here. Oh, and Stevens wore glasses to the heavy horned rim kind. I see. Lieutenant. Yes, Sergeant. DA on the phone. All right. Well, I guess that's all for now, Mr. Hodgekiss. Thanks. Yes, of course, Lieutenant. Of course. And Mr. Graham, if you don't mind, I'd like to have you stick around here for a while. All right, Lieutenant. Be right back. The relief pours over you, Cliff. Surges through your mind and body. Even though you know as you walk out of there a half hour later that you're far from in the clear, you've apparently convinced Mr. Hodgekiss that there's still the puzzling attitude of Danny Rizzle, the elevator operator. Why did he say you were not Stevens? You come closer to the answer where he's concerned a few days later. It's while you and Alma and the plant manager at the drug firm are making an inspection tour. The three of you are walking through the new warehouse. It is a fine warehouse, Clifford. This was Father's dream, you know. Expansion, improvement. Oh, he'd be so proud of you, Clifford. I hope so, dear. Of course, I'd much rather you were proud of me, you know. You know very well I am, even a wonderful manager. Oh, forgive us, Martin. We'll save our personal conversation for later. Oh, not at all, Mrs. Graham. I don't blame you for being proud. We all are. I'm getting quite a kick out of this new warehouse myself. You're putting it to use right away, aren't you, Martin? Yes, we are, Mrs. Graham. Of course, we had to hire some new help, but this new arrangement will... Is there something wrong, Mr. Graham? Uh, no. No, Martin, no. That new man over there moving crates. Oh, that young fellow. Fine worker, replace Sullivan. I practically had to hire him. He told me you'd send him to see me. I sent him? Oh, yes, yes. I'd say this for him. He is a hustler. Is anything wrong, Clifford? No, no, dear, no, of course not. I remember now, it's just that... Excuse me, I'll catch up with you. I just want to say hello to the young man. Hello, Danny. Oh, Mr. Graham. Hi. I just found out that you were working for me. Yeah. I'm sure it beats the ups and downs in the elevator at the Chase Weatherly. You decided to quit your job over there, did you? Uh-huh. I decided to quit over there. You like your work here? Sure. Oh, I know this is heavy stuff I'm doing right now, but I've got a feeling working for you, Mr. Graham. A feeling that I'll go places fast. I see. You see, Mr. Graham, I'm a fellow with lots of ambition. At the Chase Weatherly, I could only go up as far as a penthouse. Then I'd have to come down again. Yes, well, I... Ambition's a good thing, don't you think? Yes, Danny. Usually a very good thing. But, um, hadn't you better get back to work? Oh, sure. Sure, Mr. Graham. Right away. And there you have it, Cliff. Danny Rizzo's reasons for telling the police lieutenant that you were not Stevens. Talking with Danny just now, you begin to get his idea. Unless he goes places working for you. You're certain he'll identify you as Mr. Stevens. Link you to the murder of Julie Thompson in that penthouse apartment. You wonder when something is going to break. Only nothing does. And then one day the police lieutenant drops by your office. Just figured you'd like to know how it was going, Mr. Graham. And it isn't. The case just isn't going anyplace. Only standing still. You say that you, um, you've had no news of Stevens, can't even get a clue to his whereabouts? I say more than that, Mr. Graham. The district attorney, he's got a pet theory. Oh, he could be right. I don't know. He says that there isn't any, Mr. Stevens. Never has been. What could he possibly be insinuating with a statement like that? I don't know. Just his theory. Who can say, at least, right now? You sent for me, Mr. Graham? Yes, sit down, Danny. Oh, sure, sure. There, cigars. You can help yourself there. Oh, yeah, I will. Danny, I'll get right to it. You, you know me as... As Mr. Stevens? Sure, Mr. Graham. You're going to ask me why I didn't tell the cops you were Mr. Stevens, at it? No, I can assume. Like you said, you can go places with me, fast. Check. Good cigars, Mr. St... Mr. Graham. I'm going to play ball with you. No bluffing, tricks. Swallow. You've got to help me some more. There's nothing difficult. But there's a situation that can spoil things for both of us. After all, if anything happens to me... I'm way ahead of you, Mr. Graham. Just tell me what to do. You mean that? Sure. Say, these are nice cigars. Very nice. I like them very much. Danny, Stevens must be brought back to life. I mean, he must be seen somewhere again. Preferably by that, uh, that Mr. Hodge kill. I know a place we can find him anytime. Hodge kiss? Uh-huh. A bar. A place where he takes out a nightcap every night. Good. Very good. Now, listen to me, Danny. Listen close. You set it all up swiftly, simply, don't you, Cliff? Danny seems to be perfectly cooperative. And if your plan goes smoothly, there'll be no more theories about Mr. Stevens. You and Danny are going to bring him to life just once more. The following evening at your apartment with your wife, Alma, out visiting friends, you begin to set the plan in motion. First, some seemingly casual but firm instructions to your faithful, unsuspecting house boy, Chan. Chan, I'm going to bed early. I'll have a very bad headache. Oh, sorry, Mr. Graham. Chan, help? Yes, yes, you can. Chan, I don't want to be disturbed by anyone. Oh, yes, yes, Mr. Graham. No disturbed headache. I fix. Nobody disturb you. Thank you, Chan. Good night. Night, Mr. Graham. That's the first step, isn't it, Cliff? Establishing your presence in the apartment, making certain no one will enter your room. Because the second step is to lock your door, slip outside to the fire escape and make your way unobserved to the alley where you've left your car. The trench coat and glasses you wore when posing as Mr. Stevens are in the back seat. And you put them on before you drive downtown. 15 minutes later, you're having a drink in the cocktail bar Danny told you about. Drink okay, mister? Oh, fine, yes, it's just right. Uh, say, could you tell me, is there a good hotel near here? Mm, the olden's good as any. Small but clean, fair prices. Sounds like just what I want. Excuse me, an old customer. You almost smile at the timing, don't you, Cliff? Yes. Where does the old customer who's come in seating himself at the far end of the bar is Mr. Hodgkis. And you're not at all surprised when he stares at you, gets up from his stool quickly and hurries out without ordering. How do you like that guy? Something wrong? First time he's ever acted like then. Walked out without speaking. Didn't even look at me. And he's been coming in here ever since. Something's on his mind, perhaps. Uh, that hotel again, the... The Alton, you say? That's right, mister. One block down the street. Thanks. Good night. Night, mister. You leave the bar in time to see Mr. Hodgkis hurrying into a drugstore across the street. You know exactly what he'll do, don't you, Cliff? Yes. Head for a phone booth and call the police. Tell them he's seen Mr. Stevens again. At the Alton Hotel, a block down the street. You sign the register as Mr. Stevens. Go upstairs to a room. That makes it complete, doesn't it? All but the final step. The call from Danny Rizzo. Danny, who's stationed in the drugstore, watching. And he calls right on schedule. Yes? The cops just left the bar. Better get out of that room. Check. Out the back way, huh? I'll have your car waiting in the alley. Good, good. It's worked perfectly, hasn't it, Danny? Yes. Couldn't have been better. Where shall we eat? Where shall we spend the night? Those are two questions you'll be asking again and again if you do any traveling this summer. Well, to help you find happy answers to these questions, signal oil dealers are offering free a 20-page booklet of selected eating and lodging places in the West called Lane's Guide. This handy booklet is packed with useful information. It tells, for instance, whether the lodging place has facilities for swimming. In the case of motels, it states whether kitchens are available. And so that you can keep within your budget, it states whether the prices are low, medium, or high. Naturally, no pocket-sized publication could possibly contain every good eating and lodging place. But Lane's Guide, which is prepared by an independent travel organization, includes a representative selection in 350 cities and towns throughout 16 western states. We hope you'll enjoy this latest step in signal oil companies continuing efforts to make your motoring miles more pleasant. Remember, a copy of Lane's Guide is yours free while the supply lasts. At any signal service station. Yes, Cliff, it's working perfectly. You know you've managed to convince Mr. Hodgkis that there is a man named Stevens. You know he's called the police and hotel room. But they won't find you here in this room of the Alton Hotel where you registered as Stevens. No. By the time the police arrive, you'll be out and on your way home to resume life as Cliff Graham, only on a much safer plane. There'll be no more doubts that a Mr. Stevens does exist even if he has eluded the police. And you'll go free of any suspicion for your murder of Julie Thompson. But you must move swiftly, Cliff, out the door of the hotel into the corridor and toward a window that will lead to the fire escape. And then... Hold it, Stevens! Hodgkis! Yes. That's right, Stevens. I came over here ahead of the police. The bartender told me you'd probably be here. What? What are you going to do? What do people usually do with guns, Stevens? They shoot things, don't they? Well, I'm going to shoot the thing that murdered Julie Thompson. Julie? Yes. I love Julie Thompson. And she loved me before you took her away from me. Look, Mr. Hodgkis, you're making a mistake. I'm not Stevens. I saw the register downstairs, Stevens. No! No, my name is Graham. Cliff Graham, please. Please, you must believe me. No! I wanted to make certain I got the right man. And so I called Mr. Graham at home just now to talk to his house boy. He said Mr. Graham is in his room this minute. Has a sycetic. Left word not to be disturbed. So you see, Stevens, I know those horn rim glasses and trench coat anywhere. But I swore I'd get the man that killed Julie. I've been carrying this gun ever since you killed her. Hoping to run into you, Stevens. You'll never get away with this. The police are on their way here now. And you forget I called the police. I wanted to take me. I loved Julie. And you killed her. I don't care anymore you see her. About anything. Except this. Stop it! Hodgkis, you're... Goodbye, Mr. Stevens. Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program The Whistler each Sunday night at this same time. Brought to you by the Signal Oil Company marketers of signal gasoline and motor oil and fine quality automotive accessories. And don't forget a free 20 page travel guide suggesting where to eat and sleep as well as free roadmaps are yours for the asking at any signal service station. Featured in tonight's story were Bill Foreman, John Daener, Mary Lansing and Howard McNair. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen with story by Steve Hampton 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 this same time next Sunday another strange tale by the Whistler Marvin Miller speaking for the Signal Oil Company This is CBS The Columbia Broadcasting System.