 The Clyde Beatty Show. The world's greatest wild animal trainer Clyde Beatty with an exciting adventure from his brilliant career. The circus means thrills, excitement, snarling jungle beasts. The circus means fun for young folks and old. But under the big top you see only a part of the story. The real drama comes behind the scenes where 500 people live as one family. Where Clyde Beatty constantly risks death in the most dangerous act on earth. This master of the big cast has journeyed to Africa and India hunting down his beasts in their native jungle. All of this is part of the Clyde Beatty story. This one he calls Tiger Escape. Of all the battles against man-killing wild animals I've fought, the weirdest and worst took place in a crazy tangled, half-lit, scaffolding and raw concrete jungle that looked like an artist's drawing of the surface of the moon. I didn't know it, but that battle and injuring my life, my wife's and the lives of several hundred people was already in the making a week earlier at my training quarters in Peru, Indiana. I was in the training case with Gracie, a 600-pound Tigris I was breaking into the act. Harriet, my wife, was watching from outside the bars with Jim Berkholder who was promoting some of my appearances in the Midwest. And Jake Lacey, a rust about new to the show. All right Gracie, up on the pedestal now. Back, back Gracie, get back there. All right now, up on the pedestal, up, up. Bad ox girl, now hold your place till I signal you to come down. You'll be a show cat, yes Gracie. Jake. Yeah, you want me? Hand me another revolver in through the bars. I've used up all the blanks in this one. Sure, okay Mr. Beatty. Here come you. Thanks Harriet, here you go. Here Jake, here's the gun. Okay Mrs. Beatty. Well, what do you think of Gracie Berkholder? Well does that tiger just stay put up there on that platform now Beatty? Ah, sometimes she does. Well, believe me, why golly if the public could get up this close to the cage and see how doggone dangerous your stunt is. Ah, then we'd get better crowds here in the middle west. Is that it Berkholder? We're not exactly losing money. Well, we're not making as much as we could. Good, in fact of you. Look out. Jake, my revolver! Kill! Come on! Right, what's the matter with you? The revolver Jake handed me was empty. No blanks to fire and break the charge of the Tigris. I pended off Gracie's first lunge with a kitchen chair in my hand but the attack smashed the chair and left me weaponless. My back to the bars of the cage the Tigris crouched in front of me. We return to the story of Tiger Escape in a moment. Here is Clyde Beatty. Gracie, my 600 pound Tigris had cornered me against the bars of the training cage. The unloaded revolver Jake Lacey had handed in through the bars was useless. Jake and Berkholder stood frozen, unable to move. But my wife Harriet came up cautiously in order not to prompt Gracie's charge until she stood just behind me outside the bars. I'm right behind you Clyde. All right Harriet, take the long pole from the equipment rack and stick it in through the bars. Try to drive her off to the left. I've got the pole Clyde. It may give me time to get to the safety cage. Are you sure? It's the best chance. Ready? I'm ready. All right. As Harriet jabbed at the Tigris through the cage bars with the pole I ducked the five or six feet to the safety cage door at the right. The distraction of the pole served its purpose. Gracie whirled and sprang as I moved but she was too late. I crossed the safety cage, went out through the second steel door and I was out of line. I'm glad that was clear. Sure was. Stay outside now, she calms down. Oh boy, was that something to watch. Say Betty, you almost made the headlines. Wild animal trainer Claude by Tiger. Yeah. And it might have helped out at the box office, Bert Colby. Jacob. Yeah, Mr. Beatty. You handed me the empty revolver. The same one I passed out of the cage. Now how did that happen? I guess I must have been well mixed up. It happens certain. But that revolver you have in your hand, it's loaded with blanks, isn't it? Yeah. Yeah, it is. And there's no reason you couldn't have handed me that one. It wasn't Jake's first mistake, but he'd come to the show after being out of work for a long time. He kept to himself and was hardly what you'd call friendly, but he was a hard worker and so I warned him and let him off. Everything went well until a week later when we reached Detroit. Against my better judgment, I quartered my big cat animals in the basement of the Shrine Temple in downtown Detroit. We were to put on the show in the first floor auditorium of the temple the next day. It was when I was making my final rounds with Harry Anders, my night watchman about 10 o'clock of what was to be one of the worst nights of my life that I noticed something. Harry. Yes, Mr. Beatty? Harry, come on over here a minute. Something wrong, Mr. Beatty? Look here. Here along the bottom of Gracie's cage. Why, she's been clawing at the wood. These bars sink into the wooden frame of her shifting cage pretty deep, but they might be loosened if she worked hard enough. But Mr. Beatty, tigers don't usually... They don't usually try to get out, I know. But it looks like Gracie's an exception. I'm glad our hotel is so near the Shrine Temple. And you seem so preoccupied. I'm sorry, honey. Are you tired, dear? I guess I am. I just hadn't thought about it. Oh, maybe we'd better go up to our room and turn in. It'll be a long day tomorrow. Uh, Harriet, wait for me over by the elevators, will you? I'll get the key, and I want to check something before we go. All right, sir. Good evening, Mr. Beatty. You're a room key, sir? Uh, yeah. Clerk, the hotel switchboard's open all night, isn't it? Oh, yes, sir. Here's your key, sir. Thanks. You mind if I use the phone there at the end of the desk? Go right ahead, Mr. Beatty. Thanks. Uh, get me the Shrine Temple, please. Hello, Shrine Operator. This is Clyde Beatty at the Fort Wayne Hotel, Elmwood 64222. That's right. Will you make a note of the number in case you have to reach me? Now, do you have a basement extension there in the Shrine? Would you ring it for me, please? I talked to Harry Anders, my night watchman, and gave him my hotel number. The basement extension at the Shrine was only a few feet from his post, so he'd be able to reach me in a matter of seconds if anything did go wrong. I couldn't really explain the strong sense of uneasiness I felt. Clyde, you know there's really nothing to worry about. I guess there isn't. Come on. I'll ring for the elevator. A good night's sleep is all you need. But hello, Burkholder. I didn't know you were in Detroit. I just got in. Good evening, Mrs. Beatty. Oh, hello. Beatty, I'm doggone glad I found you. This impending blizzard has kept advanced sales way down. Way down. Mr. Burkholder, couldn't you talk about it with Clyde tomorrow? He's got to be up early to set the new act at the Shrine temple. And with two performances scheduled... Sure, sure, I understand. Only I'm worried, frankly, about all I've invested in promotion. It's just darn blizzard. I guess there's nothing we can do about that, is there, Burkholder? Well, as a matter of fact, Beatty, I've got an idea. I'll make it quick, Mrs. Beatty. I know you two want to turn in. Well, all right. What's your idea, Burkholder? It's this. Now don't jump at me, Beatty. I stand to lose money the way the advanced box office sales are lagging. And you know you just can't buck a blizzard. And I'm thinking of my own skin. And yours too. Well, go on. Go on. What's your idea? Well, so far the box office won't even cover the cost of putting on the production. The way the contracts are drawn up, there's a loophole. We could cancel if you got sick. I mean, well, if you were laid up and couldn't go on. Not a chance. Well, think it over, Beatty. There's nothing to think over. Good night, Burkholder. Good night, my dear sleep well. Hello? Mr. Beatty? Yeah? Mr. Beatty, this is a desk clerk. Well, what's the matter? From the Shrine Temple. Sells all your lines, the tigers were loose over there. There was about as much chance all my big cats were loose in the Shrine Temple as that the temple itself had sunk underground. But Harry Anders wouldn't have deserted his post without good reason. I rushed into my clothes, left Harriet still dressing and got down to the lobby of our hotel in about three minutes. Mr. Beatty? All right, Harry. What is it? What's happened? It's Gracie, the big tiger. She's out of her cave. Gracie's out? Yeah. All right, come on then. Let's go. You can tell me what happened on the way over. You see, Mr. Beatty? Just like I said, Gracie's gone. She shoved out between her eyes. Look how they've been. I was sitting right over there on my stool and I heard something. And when I looked over, she was pushing her way out. Why didn't you phone me as I told you to? I couldn't from down here because she was loose. But I ran. When I got upstairs, the operator wasn't on duty. So you ran to my hotel. All right. Harry, get me that stool of yours. Yes, Mr. Beatty. He'll have to do for a weapon. There's no time to look for anything better. Gracie's gone up those stairs over there and there are more than 200 people asleep in the rooms on the floors above us. Harry. Yes, Mr. Beatty? Look here. Look at these marks around the base of Gracie's bar. Where she's clawed the wood, Mr. Beatty? No. Look how smooth and regular the cuts in the wood are. These cuts were made by a knife, Harry, or a chisel. Here is an important message. And now, back to Tiger Escape. With a 600-pound tiger loose somewhere in Detroit Shrine Temple where more than 200 defenseless guests were peacefully asleep, I didn't have much time to think even of the fact that a human hand had cut the wood around the base of Gracie's cage and helped her escape. I asked Harry Anders the night watchman a few questions, but he swore he knew nothing. So I sent him to round up the men. I'd reached the fifth, the top floor of the Shrine Temple when Harry had caught up with me. You haven't found her yet, God? Oh, thank heaven. Thank heaven? What do you mean? That she must be up here, Harry, at above the sleeping rooms. You mean in the dark? In there? This stairway's a fire stairs. I've checked every floor from the basement up here to the fifth. All the other landings have one-way doors. One-way doors? This stairway's insulated against fire. The doors that the landings open into it. But the doors won't open from this stairwell into the temple proper. That stood us in luck. Oh, well, you mean Gracie had to come up here right to the top? As if she'd been in the runway chute to the big performing cage in the show. And in there, Clyde, what is it in there? It seems to be some kind of a big, unfinished room. Look, you can see through the doorway in the light from the landing here. Skaffolding, crates, barrels... Clyde, Clyde, you're not going in there in the dark after Gracie with just that frimsy canvas stool for protection. Just to be absolutely sure she's in there. I don't want to drive her back to the basement yet, not till the men are ready to cage her. I walked in in the dark, leaving Harry it protected behind the door that opened outward into the landing. I didn't have a flashlight. There was just the light from the open doorway in a long oval, my shadow in the middle of it. I saw that I was in the unfinished swimming pool of the club. In the light that spread out from the door there were tumbled concrete blocks, timbers, porcelain objects and beyond the light, blackness in which Gracie the Tigress was hiding. Gracie! Gracie! Gracie! Gracie! Gracie! Then I knew she was in there. All right, Harriet, help me get this 2x4 across the door to barricade it. All right, cut. This will keep her inside in the swimming pool room at least till the men in the basement are organized to cage her when I drive her down. Harry, how many men did you manage to round up? Three, Mr. Beatty. Morgan and Ames are getting the canvas wall from the equipment locker. I want the canvas wall stretched along there from the stair bottom to that utility cage there. Yes, sir. And when I drive Gracie down from the top floor I want you and Ames to handle the canvas wall. Morgan and you said you'd round it up a third man. Jake, Gracie, over there. I bumped into him upstairs in the lobby as soon as I went up. Upstairs in the lobby? Yeah, just a minute, Harry. Jake, what were you doing in the lobby at this hour, 3 o'clock in the morning? I don't sleep well, Mr. Beatty. Is that your answer? It's the truth. All right, go help Morgan and Ames bring in the canvas wall. Okay. Harry? Yes, Mr. Beatty? While you were on duty tonight, somebody cut away the wood around the base of the bars at Gracie's cage. Now, how could that have happened without you seeing it? Well, I didn't tell you, Mr. Beatty, but now I see it's important. Well, go on. The phone rang. The extension here in the basement. It was a shrine temple operator and he said... He? Yeah, it was a man's voice. He said he was the shrine temple operator and that you were upstairs in the lobby and wanted to see me right away. But when I went up, there wasn't anyone there. And right after you got back down here was when Gracie escaped. Yes. When you tried to phone me to tell me she'd escaped, the shrine operator wasn't on duty. Say, Mr. Beatty, I hadn't thought about that. That could mean it wasn't the operator that called me at all. It certainly could, Harry. All right, here come the men. Don't say anything more about it right now. While the men readied the canvas wall and utility cage in the basement, I went back up to the fifth floor. Harriet still guarded the barricaded door behind which Gracie hid, somewhere in the jumbled dark of the unfinished shrine temple swimming pool. Well, at least you have a flashlight in the stronger chair now, Clyde. When I open the door and go in, Harriet, you get behind the door and see that it stays wide open. Yes. All right, Clyde. I checked all the landing doors to the corridors on my way up from the basement and they're all securely closed. So when I get Gracie out here under the top landing, I can drive her right straight down to the basement as if down a tunnel. Clyde, I wish you didn't have to go in there. You and me both, honey. Now come on. Help me get the planks away from this door. I've been looking for the lights. I just found the wire ends. The lights haven't been installed in here yet. Then be careful, Clyde. I have the flashlight. Gracie? Gracie? I heard a slight sound somewhere to my right. The slight movement of the Tigris stirring as she heard her name. I swung my flashlight beam back and forth but all I saw were the piles of materials, the raw pit of the unfinished pool. Gracie? Then she responded and when my light played on the place of the sound, I saw two green answering flashes, her eyes. Gracie? Come out of there. Come on. I ran toward her and then she left her hiding in charge. Her paws flitted the kitchen chair in my left hand and as the forces of low knocked me half around, the flashlight flew from my right hand and smashed on the country. Then the thin light from the doorway I could see the green points of Gracie's eyes ten or twelve feet in front of me. Come on. Come on. We'll follow her down the stairs now. Keep her flight behind. She has to go straight to the basement. All right, Clyde. You're shaky? You just got back behind the door in time. I know. I know this. But I was so scared. You were alone in there with her in the dark. Come on, Harriet. Hurry. Who is that? What? It's Berkholder. He's gotten into the stairs somehow. Gracie's crouched on the landing. Now listen, Berkholder. Don't say anything. Don't make a sound, but just start moving backwards down the stairs slowly. Harriet. We've got to go closer. Keep her attention while Berkholder gets away. She's back in town. She's confused. She broke the door open. She's in the corner. Come on. Where is she? The car is empty. She must have gotten into her room. There are people sleeping in those rooms. My gosh, baby. I never thought she could get through one of those doors. I didn't think she'd get into the room. What do you mean, Berkholder? You didn't think. I mean just now, just a minute ago. What do you mean, Berkholder? Sir, just one... You get into the first room that's open, Berkholder. Can you go with them, Harriet? I want the corridor clear while I round up Gracie. The room in which I found Gracie hiding was luckily unused. After snarling at me for a minute or two, she turned and padded out and back up the corridor to the stairs to the basement. The strangeness and unfamiliarity of her adventure had taken the fight out of her. We caged her without difficulty. Berkholder came down to the basement with Harriet after it was all over. Harriet, wait for me in the lobby, will you? I'll be right up. All right, dear. Berkholder. Yes? Berkholder, you're staying at the Fort Wayne Hotel, not the Shrine Temple. I just wonder how it happens that you're over here at a quarter to four in the morning. Well, the hotel clerk phoned my room. He knew I was connected with a wild animal. Did he? Not connected with the Detroit engagement. No, but Harriet. You want me, Mr. Bailey? Give me a minute. Yes, Mr. Bailey. Harriet, I want you to listen to a voice. What's that, Mr. Bailey? Mr. Berkholder's voice. Say something, Berkholder. Go ahead. Harriet is my night watchman, you see, and you two have never met. But I'm pretty sure Harriet will recognize your voice. It won't sound very different from the way it sounds on the telephone. Well, Berkholder? Well, Berkholder? Berkholder hoped to gain by letting Gracie lose pride. Oh, I guess I gave him the idea myself. Who are you to? Well, he visited training quarters a week ago, remember? When Jake Lacey got mixed up and handed me the empty revolver, Gracie almost got to me. Well, Berkholder said something about my almost-making-the-headlines wild animal trainer clawed by tigers. I said that that might help at the box office. So he got the idea of causing a tiger escape for the publicity. He thought it would stimulate business for our next engagement. Berkholder won't get anything out of it. I'll see to it that he never makes another penny in circus business. Just to think of that opportunist and dangering hundreds of people, he must have been out of his mind. Honey, are you asleep? Oh, what is it now? I don't know. Hello? You wanted to be wick and early to go over to the Shrine Temple and set up your circus, Mr. Beezy. It's 5 p.m., sir. Oh, thanks. What is it, Clyde? Another day, Harriet, that's all. Just another dull day in the life of a wild animal trainer. Who ends our story? Tiger escape. But Clyde Beatty will return in a moment to tell you of his next adventure. In the next episode of the Clyde Beatty Show, we dramatize a strange and unexplainable incident that occurred in Monrovia on the west coast of Africa. This is the story of the juju stones. Very, very good stuff here, Harry. Thank you, Clyde. All right. Not just nothing. Do you think that witch doctor, Hezekiah, is responsible for the juju stones that are flying in people? I don't know. Hezekiah has no arms, so he couldn't throw them himself. I don't know. I thought he was a pretty dignified old guy. Clyde, the leopard. What's up with him? Something's upsetting him. Clyde! A juju stone. Get a flashlight and follow, Harriet. I'm going to see if I can find who threw that. It's a flashlight. Did you see anybody? No. But whoever threw the stone passed by the cages. That must be what upset the leopard. If anybody did pass by the cages, Clyde. Manny, now, don't let this country get you. But you ran out right after the stone broke the window. And you didn't see anyone. Well, somebody with a good wing could have thrown it from a distance and ducked out of sight. Hey, wait a minute. What Clyde? My flashlight being picked up movement over there by the elephant compound. Come on. Careful. Africa is a dark and mysterious country. In our next episode, I'll tell you how Harriet and I found ourselves involved in ancient superstition. All stories are based upon incidents in the career of the world-famous Clyde Beatty and the Clyde Beatty Circus. The Clyde Beatty Show is produced by Shirley Thomas. Tiger Escape was written by Roy Williams. All names used were fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This is a Commodore production.