 And now, stay tuned for the mystery program that is unique among all mystery programs. Because even when you know who is guilty, you always receive a startling surprise at the final curtain. In the Signo Oil program, the Whistler. Signo, the famous Go Father gasoline, invites you to sit back and enjoy another strange story. By the Whistler. I'm 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. Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. And now, for the Signo Oil Company, the Whistler's strange story. Saturday night. To the staff on duty at the small hospital in an inland town 100 miles east of Los Angeles. Sunday night was much like any other night, except that Sunday was to follow, and most of the staff had 24 hours of leisure to look forward to. The attractive girl at the reception desk looked long at her wrist watch, and then glanced up as the sound of descending footsteps focused her attention on the stairway, crossed the lobby. A moment later, Dr. Neil Layton, one of the interns, scrolled casually to the desk. I thought I'd come down for a little breather. It's kind of slow tonight, Penny. Was that bad for Saturday night? No. It's okay by me. Oh, it did me fine. I got two hours of sleep today. Eight hours in front of me here at this desk. Well, that's too bad, Pat, when you're on the night shift. You'll never see your grandchildren if you keep that up. Oh, I couldn't sleep today. I had so many things to do. You know how Saturday is. Good night, Patty. Hope you'll have a pleasant Sunday. Oh, thank you, Dr. Peter. Same to you. Good night, Doc. Good night, Neil. Yeah, Pat, see, it's like I said, a girl like you needs eight hours of sleep a day. You get eight hours of sleep today, doctor? Ten. You would. You know, you're an odd man, Dr. Layton. Odd? How do you mean? I mean, I don't know. You act like there's something bothering you. Like there's something on your mind all the time. Maybe there is. Well, everybody has things on their mind, but you could still go out, dance, and have fun, like the other doctors do. The single ones I mean. You're too busy. I'm still an intern, you know. Oh, you make being an intern sound like a sentence. Yes. Our sidelines? Yes, sir. Oh, here, I almost forgot, Dr. Layton. Maybe this pretty pink envelope will change your viewpoint. Oh, a letter. When did this come? I don't know. I just came on duty ten minutes ago. Why don't you open it? Dr. Layton, your hands are trembling. I believe your viewpoint has changed already. Hasn't changed at all. It'll never change. Yes, Neil, your hands are trembling as you recognize the handwriting. Read the return address on the envelope. The address of lovely Cynthia Walker. She's out of your life now, isn't she, Neil? No, she'll never be out of your life, will she? You're just out of hers. You walk across the lobby. Choose a chair near a light. Stare into space for a moment. The memory of that last moment with Cynthia crowding every other thought from your mind. It isn't pleasant to recall, is it, Neil? It's the unfortunate accident that cost you your reputation, your position, and the love of Cynthia Walker. At the very beginning of your career is an intern in an important metropolitan hospital. You remember Cynthia's angry words that followed. Yes, looking back to that day more than a year ago, it's hard to believe now that a few hours could have made so much difference in your future. And as you try to read Cynthia's letter, the words blur in front of your eyes. You can think only of the man responsible for it all. Charles Arthur Bennett. The man who lied when the truth would have cleared you. Charles Arthur Bennett. The man who called himself your best friend. Every time you think of Charles Arthur Bennett, you literally see red. Don't you, Neil? The sound of an ambulance wheeling into the receiving yard below shatters your train of thoughts. Across the room, the yellow light flashes on the switchboard. You put Cynthia's letter in your pocket. Across to the switchboard. Yes, I'll make out the registration card right away. Well, Miss Wilson is busy. 412 has had a relapse. They're taking the emergency to the third floor. Dr. Graham wants you to go to the third floor drug room. What was the accident? Car crash. Hematrastic shock. Patient very weak. Dr. Graham wants you to prepare injections and soirette to mine in sacraline. Take them to the operating room, third floor. All right. I was afraid we might have one of these before the night was over. Get any details? No. Only that it was an automobile accident. The man is unconscious. But the ambulance driver says his name is Charles Bennett, a salesman. Who did you say? Bennett. Charles Arthur Bennett, Los Angeles. Father. Father. Just mention those two words, go farther to motorists anywhere around these specific host states and what do they think of? Why signal a famous go farther gasoline, of course. Now it goes without saying, in order to be known as the go farther gasoline, signal has to give mighty good mileage. But sometimes a product becomes so celebrated for one feature, people forget it has other advantages too. I'm referring to the satisfying performance, which naturally goes hand in hand with signals good mileage. As you've heard me explain before, signal gives that good mileage by helping your engine run so efficiently that you save gasoline. And when your engine runs that efficiently, naturally you also enjoy quicker starting. Peppier pick up, smoother power. That's why signal hopes you'll remember. The best yardstick of a gasoline's performance is its mileage. To be sure of both, next time fill up with signal, the gasoline that helps you go farther. Go farther. Go farther. Yes, Neil, it's a shock, isn't it? To realize what's happened. For more than a year you've hated Charles Bennett. And now the girl at the switchboard tells you he's here in the hospital where you are now interning. The victim of an automobile accident. That you have to prepare the drugs that might save his life. That might save his life. The thought grips you. Hurry up the stairs along the hallway to the laboratory. The thoughts go back to that night more than a year ago. The circumstances were quite different then, weren't they, Neil? Because although you didn't realize it, that night you were at the mercy of Charles Bennett. The night that brought you disgrace and cost you the love of Cynthia Walker. The night which began with a birthday party for Charles Bennett at the home of a mutual friend. But as far as you were concerned, there were just the three of you. Charlie, your best friend, and Cynthia. Yes, Neil, things were much different then. It's a wonderful party. I wish I didn't have to leave right in the middle of it. I do too, Cynthia. But if you must, you must. I'll drive you home. Oh no, Neil, I've already fallen for a taxi. This is the first time you've been off-beauty waiting in the hospital and quite a while. You stay here and relax, have fun. Okay, but I might get into trouble. Oh, I trust you. You're a big boy now. Or I wouldn't have told you I'd marry you. Have you told Charlie Bennett? Not yet. I'll tell him tomorrow. I don't want to seem conceited, but telling him tonight I'm going to marry you. Might spoil his birthday party. It would. By the way, where is Charlie? Oh, he's around. Over there in the corner, I think. That island completely surrounded by an ocean of blonde. Well, I wouldn't think of invading that territory just to tell him goodnight. Don't tell him for me, won't you, Neil? Sure. You really have to go. I'm afraid so. Jane's only in town for the night, and I don't get to see my sister very often. My taxi ought to be here by now. If you're a night off, have fun. See you in turns. Don't get out of that hospital often enough. And the champagne is wonderful. Anything you say, darling. Reluctantly, you'll see Cynthia to a cab and come back to the party. You'll take Cynthia's advice, too. Enjoy a little champagne. Make party talk with other friends. And you do have a good time, don't you, Neil? You'll relax for the first time in a week. Oh, don't be so stubborn, Neil! Don't doctors ever have any fun? Come on, Neil. Get out of a little fun. Come on, Martha. This one's really got to be fun. You're getting old, Doc. That gorgeous blonde over there by the one who's been eyeing you all evening. Go on over. Ask her to dance. Oh, you do it, Charlie. I'm not in the mood. Maybe a little later on. Anything you say, kid. It's your night out. Do you want to cogitate about hypocrisy? It's okay by me. Have a little more champagne to color your dreams. All right, Charlie. Maybe you're right. For another hour or two, you enjoy yourself. Let yourself go. Stay until most of the crowd is left. Finally, you even convince your friend Charlie that it's time for him to go home, too. And in the lobby, going out. Why don't you leave your car here, Charlie, and go home in style, like I am? What do you mean in style? Take a taxi. Well, Shanty, I can drive, Neil. Don't tell me they're good doctors and there's cups from a little champagne. No. But I never drive when I've had anything to drink. Well, you don't have to drive. A little bit of champagne won't bother me, any. Look, I'll tell you what. We look close to each other. If you don't want me to drive my car, we'll use yours. You know, I'll be careful with your car. I can pick mine up tomorrow. Well, I'd sure rather take a taxi. Aren't any taxis around anyway? There's a stand about three blocks away. Not at night. Besides, you'll need your car to get to the hospital in the morning. Oh, come on, Neil. I'm okay. I'll be careful. All right, if you're sure, let's go. But take it easy now. Once in the car, before Charlie starts the motor, you make one more effort to talk him out of driving, but to no avail. You're getting a little weary of the slight argument, so you let him drive the car. And after the first few blocks, you decide you have nothing to worry about. Charlie seems to be driving satisfactorily, slightly over the speed limit, it's true, but he seems to have everything under control until he suddenly turns a corner, shot. Take it easy, Charlie. That's the last you remember for a little while. When you open your eyes, you feel a dizziness, a dull pain at your temple, and someone's talking. Come on. Are you hurt? I'm hurt. Oh, no, no, Charlie. Yeah, not much, I guess. There's a bump on the head. That lamppost may quite an impression on your car, though. What's the idea of driving like that? Why, I wasn't driving. Charlie was. Oh, Charlie was driving, huh? Yeah, where is he? I wouldn't know. Say, you're a little on the woozy side, friend. But Charlie, where is he? Come on, Chum, that's enough about Charlie. How much have you had to drink, anyway? Oh, not much. Look here, officer, Charlie was here. He was driving. No one was here, Chum. I heard the crash around the corner came straight here. No, Charlie, no, nobody, just you. Not even the little man who wasn't here. But he couldn't have gone. Maybe he's hurt and fell out of the car. Nobody fell out of the car. Nobody's around here but you. But, Charlie, that's all, Chum. Come on. We got a swell place downtown where you can sleep on it. It's like a nightmare, isn't it, Neil? You're bewildered, confused by what's happened. It's all a mistake, a horrible mistake. And you're sure Charlie will show up soon and explain everything. Then you're booked at police headquarters. Then the rest of the night pacing back and forth in the city jail. But finally next morning someone comes and puts up bail for you. Outside, Cynthia is waiting. Hello, Cynthia. Good morning, Neil. I came as quickly as I could. Thanks. Thanks for springing me. Come along, Neil. I'll drive you home. How'd you find out I was here? The whole story's in the morning papers. You mentioned your connection with the hospital, too. I suppose so. Dr. Rogers called me about it. He was quite concerned. Well, he needed a bin. We'll get this whole thing cleared up in no time. No time at all. I hope so, Neil. Sure. As soon as I see Charlie Bennett. Charlie? He'll tell him what really happened. He was driving the car. It was all his fault. I was just... What's the matter, Cynthia? Why are you looking at me like that? I... I've already talked with Charlie. Well, he told you then how it really happened. How could he? Charlie said he took a cab home from the party last night. Alone. Tried to get you to do the same thing. It leaves you stunned, doesn't it, Neil? You're certainly must be some mistake. But once Charlie understands how much it means to you, he'll realize what's happened and tell the truth. It's too late to prevent the unfavorable publicity for the hospital. But at least you could be cleared in Dr. Rogers' eyes and in Cynthia's. You see Cynthia safely home and then take a taxi directly to Charlie's apartment. He isn't there. But the desk clerk recognizes you as a friend and lets you in. You settle down to wait and to think. Nearly two hours later, a key sounds in the door. Neil, boy. Why don't you tell me you weren't coming. I would have left the key for you. I didn't plan on it. Anyway, the desk clerk let me in. You talked to Cynthia on the phone this morning, didn't you, Charlie? Cynthia? Yes. Naturally, she was worried about you. Naturally. And what did you tell her? Oh, that's a twerkie. Well, I didn't mean to do it, Neil, but I had to. You understand? You want a drink? No. Don't mind if I do. Look, Charlie. I'm trying to give you a chance to explain. Okay, okay. There's no reason to get sore. You're lying to Cynthia. Why? I told you, I had to. You know, it's a salesman. I have to drive a car to make a living, Neil. What's that got to do with it? Only everything, that's all. Look, Neil. I didn't bother to mention it to anyone, I was in a scrape three weeks ago. I got a hold up for hitting another car while I was... well, a little tight. I got off with a fine and a warning, bad time. Wait a minute. You mean you deliberately let me take the rap for your accident last night? I tell you, I couldn't help it. You don't want to spot this as put me in? Hospital has a reputation they're pretty jealous of. Sure, and I've got a job. And so have I. I think you better put on that drink and get your coat on, Charlie. Why? Because you're coming with me to explain to Dr. Rogers. Then we're going together to see Cynthia. Well, good with that, too. It's all over now. You mean you won't? I mean, I went home in a taxi last night alone. I told my story once, Neil. I don't see anything to gain by changing it now. You're going to regret this, Charlie. Plenty. After you leave, it suddenly occurs to you that Charlie has a more important reason for life. His job is only part of it. He's always been in love with Cynthia, too. And despite your long friendship, apparently believes that anything's fair in love and war. It's as simple as that, isn't it, Neil? And with you out of the way, he's sure he'll have a clear field. And, Cynthia, after all this, what about Cynthia, Neil? You have to be sure of Cynthia, don't you? Half an hour later... Neil, I just can't understand. You don't believe me, do you? And you do believe Charlie. Why would he lie about a thing like this? Because he didn't want to lose his job. And because of me, out of the way, he thinks he could marry you. Oh, that's fantastic. I'd known Charlie for years. He wouldn't do a thing like that, Neil. Besides, you're his best friend. Yeah, he's proved that, hasn't he? Neil, aren't you forgetting that Charlie wasn't found in the wreck? That you were, you, all alone. Your story is too far-fetched. The police don't believe it. Charlie says it couldn't have been that way. And you, Cynthia, what do you say? Oh, Neil, what can I say? Do you think I want to believe this? And Dr. Rogers and the Foundation, what do they say? Naturally, I resigned from the hospital this morning. I couldn't do anything else. I don't blame them for what they think, any of them. But you, Cynthia, I thought... Oh, never mind. I guess there's no use in going over it all again. Neil, you... you're not going. Why not? I don't see you be getting anywhere. What's been happening to Korea, Neil? Do you think you'll be able to intern anywhere? I think so. I'm just as qualified as I ever was. My previous record was good, and I've learned a great deal about human nature. I'm sorry this has been too much for you, Cynthia. You wouldn't consider marrying a man you didn't believe, would you? I want to believe you more than I ever wanted to believe anything. Well, maybe you will someday. Or maybe you'll learn the truth. When you do, let me know. You'll be able to find me. It all happened more than a year ago, didn't it, Neil? Then you cut off all contacts with your friends in Los Angeles. You've often wondered if Cynthia ever married Charlie, and every time you've wandered your hatred toward him has grown deeper. You've even thought of killing him, haven't you? And now, tonight, more than a year later, in a small, out-of-the-way hospital, fate places the life of Charles Bennett squarely in your hand. The switchboard operator has told you he's in the operating room unconscious, seriously injured in an auto accident. You've been assigned to prepare the medication, which will spell life or death for him. Just a little too much, or not quite enough. It's almost too easy, isn't it? You're sure that if anything goes wrong, not the slightest suspicion will be attached to you. You smile as you enter the drug room and find another intern there. What's the emergency, Layton? Correct. You assisting? No, no. Just preparing the syreptomine and saccharine shots. Must have been a pretty bad accident. Hmm, afraid so. Did you ever stop to think of the power in these drugs, Phil? Just the right amount means almost certain recovery. A little too much, or too little? Oblivion. Do you always give this philosophical when you come to the drug room? No. I guess this case made me think about it more than usual. I know the guy. Friend? You said it. What a friend. Kind of an unusual situation, isn't it? Isn't it now? Almost ironic. Did you know that in 1925, the average car was scrapped when it was only six and a half years old and had gone less than 28,000 miles? Whereas today, the average car lasts 14 years and is driven over 120,000 miles. Much of the credit for this longer life naturally goes to automotive engineers for improved construction. But much credit also must go to lubrication experts for more scientific, more conscientious lubrication, such as cars now receive at signal service stations. I call signal lubrication scientific because there's never any guesswork involved in locating the many hidden lubrication points on your car or in deciding the proper lubricant to use. Instead, signal dealers follow signals lubrication guide, in which the maker of your car clearly shows every lubrication point and clearly specifies which of signals scientifically engineered oils and greases each point should have for longest trouble-free service. And I call signal lubrication conscientious because signal dealers check each vital point a second time just to make double sure not a single part is ever missed. Not only does this make your car run better and last longer, but you feel a lot better too knowing every part is protected by lubrication you can really depend on. A signal double-check loop job from a signal service station. Well, Neil, the die is cast, isn't it? You've donned your sterile mask and gown, prepared the injections, carried them to the operating room, where you place them on the instrument tray without even a glance at the mask sheet-covered patient. You know Dr. Graham's nod of dismissal and quietly leave the operating room where the patient's chance for life depends on the drugs you've prepared. You never dreamed you'd have such a perfect opportunity with Charlie Bennett, did you, Neil? After removing your mask and gown, you return to the hallway, light a cigarette, stand staring out a window. You remember the disgrace Charlie brought upon you when your shattered hopes, the happiness you might have had with Cynthia, his utter selfishness. You decide to finish reading Cynthia's letter. Now, after a year, I realize how hasty I was in my judgment. Suddenly your heart beats faster as you realize she still missed Cynthia Walker. You can almost hear the words as the melody of her voice haunts your memory. But you were more so in your action. You're sudden, abrupt leaving, not letting me know where you were. I know now how wrong I was to doubt you, but even when my doubts were deepest, I loved you. You told me once a woman loves in spite of man's weakness, not because of his strength. Remember, Neil? Well, so it was, and is with me. I haven't changed, and I can't believe that you have. You turn away, stare out the window. Suddenly you're horrified that you, a doctor, have allowed your hatred for Charles Bennett to bring you to the point it did. Finally, the door to the operating room opens. It still forms as wheels silently pass you. You continue to stare out the window, and you toss away your cigarette, light another. Wait for Dr. Graham to emerge from the operating room. As he leaves the operating room and enters the hallway, you walk slowly toward it. How's the patient, doctor? Patient's going to be all right. Glad you were around. Sereptomins are godsend. May I have a cigarette, ladies? Sure, doctor. I wish these new drugs had been available when I first started practice. Matter of fact, I wish I were young like you, just beginning. Yeah, you'll be a great doctor one day, Neil. Will I? Yeah. You're honest, sincere. You could no more evade your duty than commit murder. No. I guess I couldn't. I almost made a terrible mistake a little while ago, though. The mistake that could have been fatal to your patient. But you didn't, did you? No, I didn't. You won't make many mistakes, Neil, of any kind. Medicine was, well, it's in your heart. Yes, I guess it is. I'd like to talk to Charles Bennett a few minutes, doctor. Go ahead. He's lying down on the couch in my office. Bennett wasn't seriously injured. He just knocked out temporarily. He was driving the car. But you just operated. Well, that wasn't Mr. Bennett. I operated on the young lady who was with him. It seems they were on their way to see someone here at the hospital. She'll be okay, too, as fit as ever in a week or so. A young lady? Yes, her name's Walker, uh, Cynthia Walker. That whistle will be your signal for the signal oil program, The Whistler, each Sunday night at the same time. Meantime, signal oil company and the friendly independent dealers who help you go farther with signal gasoline hope you'll remember. Regardless of what gasoline you use, you'll enjoy more miles of happy driving. If you drive at sensible speeds, obey traffic regulations, and avoid taking chances, you may even save a life. Possibly your own. Featured in tonight's story were Bill Foreman as The Whistler, Les Tremaine, Virginia Gregg, Margaret Brayton, Paul Freese, Ted Von Els, and Guy Billsbury. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen, with story by Ed Bloodworth, music by Wilbur Hatch, and was transmitted overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. The Whistler was 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 to tune in at the same time next Sunday when The Signal Oil Company will bring you another strange story by The Whistler. Marvin Miller speaking for The Signal Oil Company states you now for Armist Brooks starring Eve Arden, which follows immediately over most of these stations. This is the CVS Radio Network.