 From Hollywood, California, the Lux Radio Theater presents Errol Flynn and Olivia DeHavilland in Green Light with C. O'Brie Smith. Present Hollywood. For the interest you have taken in our products, Lux Toilet soap and Lux Flakes, for your purchases and for your recommendations to your friends, we send you our sincere appreciation. It is this kind of loyalty that makes the Lux Radio Theater possible. Tonight, we bring you Olivia DeHavilland and Errol Flynn in Green Light with C. O'Brie Smith. Our guests, Alton Cook, radio editor of the New York World Telegram and Dinty Doyle, radio editor of the New York Journal American and columnist for the Hearst Papers. Lois Silvers conducts our orchestra. And now, the producer of the Lux Radio Theater. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Cecil D. DeMille. Greetings from Hollywood, ladies and gentlemen. Dr. Lloyd C. Douglas, author of the exciting last moving novel, Green Light, from which tonight's play is adapted, has something in common with those giants of literature, Jonathan Swift, author of Gulliver's Travels, Lewis Carroll, author of Alice in Wonderland, and Ralph Waldo Emerson, the poet philosopher. For like them, Dr. Douglas is a minister who turned author. And again like them, his writings have a vividly human and appealing quality. From Dr. Douglas last week, I learned how he happened to write Green Light. While on a lecture tour, he addressed audiences harassed by fears and worries. I tried, said he, to sound a philosophy, good for all types of people who will allow comparatively small matters to accumulate and become an almost insurmountable mental barrier. Encouraged by the reactions to his lectures, Dr. Douglas believed the rest of the world might also find some good in his principles. The result was the book Green Light, which sold nearly a quarter of a million copies. Robert Warner Brothers made a great motion picture, whose star, Errol Flynn, repeats for you tonight the role of Dr. Newell Page. And co-star is Miss Olivia de Havilland of the same studios playing the part of Francis Ogilvy. Two weeks ago, Olivia and Errol completed their new film, The Adventures of Robin Hood, and promptly departed for a well-earned rest, Olivia to Palm Springs and Errol to New York, from which points they both returned to Hollywood a few days ago, to be with us now. C. Aubrey Smith, renowned character actor and beloved veteran of countless hits on stage and screen, most recent among them being The Hurricane, is heard as Dean Harcott. Polly Ann Young, sister of Loretta Young, plays Phyllis Dexter and Frank Nelson, Dr. John Stafford. And now it's curtain time. The Lux Radio Theatre presents Olivia de Havilland and Errol Flynn in Green Light with C. Aubrey Smith. Bay Park Hospital on the outskirts of Boston. In his private office, Newell Page, a rising young surgeon, stands near the window examining an X-ray plate. By his side is nurse Frances Ogilvy. She leans close to the surgeon pretending her great interest in the photograph, while he pretends to be unaware of her nearness. See that spot? Mm-hmm. Well, that's it. I don't like the wet. I don't like the wet. Ogilvy, I wish you wouldn't do that. What? Lean so close to me. Why not? Because it prevents me from concentrating. You're very beautiful, you know. Yes? And in addition, you're intelligent and probably the best chief surgical nurse the Bay Park has ever had. Thank you. You're very welcome, Ms. Ogilvy. I hate Ogilvy. Why don't you call me Frances? Frances, eh? That's a nice name. Now, about this X-ray. Do you ever think of anything but your work, Dr. Page? Oh, yes, occasionally. If you met Sylvia, my cocker spaniel, she's the cutest little picker. I never think of anything but your dog and work, Dr. Page. Never, Ms. Ogilvy. Yes, that's what I thought. You know, there was only one time I ever heard you say anything that I felt you really meant. Mm, something unpleasant, probably. It was the day we did the little Morton Boy's operation. It was a tough job. You were worried. You seemed to think I kept up with you pretty well and when it was over, you said, Ogilvy, you're a good egg. Egg, eh? I know it sounds awfully silly, but it meant a great deal to me. Well, I'm glad. You have a great talent for surgery, you know, and... By the way, how's Mrs. Dexter this morning? She's as sunshine as ever. She's been listening to that minister on the radio again. What's his name? Oh, yes, Harcourt, isn't it? That's it, Dean Harcourt. Say, she goes into surgery in less than an hour. Have you got... Oh. What? I'm awfully sorry, but I forgot to tell you, Mrs. Dexter's operation has been put off. Why? The indicates have been delayed. He just telephoned. From where? Milwaukee. He can't get here until tomorrow. But that's dangerous. I'm not certain she can wait until... Has she been told? Not yet. Oh, well, I suppose that's up to me. I'll be back in a few minutes. Dr. Booth, Dr. Booth, calling Dr. Booth. Hey, Newell. Newell, wait up. Hello, John. Oh, what's the big rush? Oh, indicates delayed that Dexter operation until tomorrow. Why? He can't make it. He's delayed or something in Milwaukee. By what? I'd like you to some club where he's stockbroker. You stick to your bugs, John. That's your business, and then he cuts his. Thanks for telling me. Oh, I'm sorry. Let's have dinner tonight. I can't. I've a date with some little bugs from Montana. Real old-fashioned killers from way back. Hmm, that's interesting. What's the name? Domas Center Andersoni. Woodticks to you. Are you messing around with spotted fever again? Ha, ha, ha. Not again. Still, I may go out to Montana one of these days. Hope you enjoy my funeral. Thanks, I will. I'm striving constantly for the higher and the better life. Morning, Mrs. Dexter. The man's progress in life is not steadily onward. Teen hardcore again? Yes, again. Sometimes man's progress is stopped by something that is bigger and stronger than he. Something over which he has no control. And that's something I like to think of as a red light flashing a halt to the forward surge of his life. And I like to believe there is a power which controls that light, which knows in its infinite wisdom that sometimes man must stop to learn through suffering before going on. For it is as inevitable as time that man progresses to a better future. If not for himself, then through his suffering for his fellow men. When he has learned this, the signal changes and the green light frees him to resume his inexorable march into eternity. You have been listening to Dean Harkoff and talking to you from... What would religion be without music? There was religion long before there was music, Dr. Page. I'm sorry, Mrs. Dexter. Well, I'd say your pulse shares marvelous repose for patient-facing surgery. You can thank Dean Harkoff for that. I'm thankful for anything. It gives a patient courage and confidence. A shorter word for courage and confidence is t. Well, whatever it is, you'll need every bit of it now. More bad news? Well, you see, we... You're trying to tell me my operation has been postponed again. Yes. Dr. Endicott's been unavoidably detained in Milwaukee. Milwaukee? A beautiful city, full of music. Years ago, we used to go there to hear the community singing. You make it work, don't you? No. I simply let it work. Well, you're an amazing patient, Mrs. Dexter. Things would be pretty simple if we all had your faith. Out for a walk, sir? No, it's evening for it. Fog coming across the bay, though. Oh, hello there, Sylvia. Hello. Good evening, sir. Good evening. What's it all about, Sylvia? What are we all doing here? Where are we going? Oh, no, no, no, no. Not home. I'm talking about life. If you could only talk, Sylvia. But I'm glad you can't. There's all the other two much talk anyway. You know... Oh, good evening. I didn't see you sitting there. I hope you don't think I was eavesdropping. Well, the silly business talking to a dog. You haven't anyone else to talk to, have you? Sit down over here. I imagine we came to this spot for the same purpose. To look off across the water, into eternity. Well, I don't think I'm much concerned with eternity. My job's for the present. After all, the patient will feel just as much pain today, even though he thinks that tomorrow he may be sitting on the edge of a cloud strumming a harp. And you're concerned with curing today's pain so the patient won't join the heavenly host. Right. Naturally. As a physician, you believe that. How do you know I'm a physician? Who just told me? As a matter of fact, we're almost in the same business. If I'm more concerned with eternity, it's because my job is with the soul, rather than the body. Oh, I see. Preacher? I much prefer to be known as a teacher. There's so much we can do to help people. It's seven o'clock, Dean Hartford. Oh, thank you, Alan. You can take me to the car, please. Yes, sir. Hartford, then you're... Yes? Well, you do help people, sir. I haven't done that. Thank you. Shall I help you up, sir? No, no, I... I can manage by myself. You didn't know I was a cripple. I had no idea. I... I try not to let it interfere. Good night. Good night, sir. They talk hospital. They talk hospital. Hold the wire, mom. Hello, switchboard? Is Dr. Booth speaking? Is there any word from Dr. Endicott this morning? I see. Well, keep trying, please. I'm in Dr. Page's office. Nothing yet, Page? Well, I guess that means we'll have to postpone the operation again. We can't. Take a look at that x-ray. Hmm. Looks bad. Miss Ogilvy, get Mrs. Dexter ready. We'll operate immediately. Yes, sir. Are you crazy? Not unless these x-rays are. Hello? Hello, surgery, please. I grant you that the infection has spread alarmingly since yesterday. Nevertheless... Surgery, this is Dr. Page. Oh, you can't do that, Page. She's Endicott's patient. We'll operate on Mrs. Dexter immediately. Now listen, Page. If anything happens... Nothing's going to happen. Scrub up, Dr. Lane. You're handling it. You're gone, Dr. Page. Well, please. Everything set? Set. Ready, Mrs. Dexter? Yes. You're the most unusual patient. Etha, Dr. Scalpel. Scalpel. Sponge ready. Sponge ready. It'll be faster. Keep them coming. Clamp. Clamp. Sponge. Sponge. Vestration normal. Outsteady. A little more, Etha. Much longer, Dr. Ten minutes, maybe less. Clamp, please. Clamp. Who opened that door? It's Dr. Endicott. Excuse me, Page. Step aside, please. We're almost finished, Etha. I said, step aside, Page. I was just about to remove the... Thank you. I know this case. Very well, Dr. Forcips? Forcips. Stand by to assist. Outsteady. Unsteady now. More, Etha. I don't think so. Endicott? Through in 20 minutes. 20. Scalpel, please. Scalpel, but... Quickly. Yes, sir. Dr. Endicott, it's not time yet. I know what I'm doing. Stand by to tie the artery. Out slowing. 42. You'll have to work fast. Tie the artery, Dr. Well, tie it. Tie it. I can't. What? You've cut it too short. I can't make the tie. It's a hemorrhage. Quick. Watch it. Sponge. Give me a sponge. Back that artery. You can't clamp. Clamp? Wait. I'm afraid it's too late, Doctor. What? She's dead. Dead? What is it, Ogreby? She shouldn't have died. You were doing perfect work. If Endicott had kept out of it... Oh, I'd rather not talk about it. Ogreby, Mrs. Dexter has a daughter, Phyllis, I think. She's traveling in England. You'll see that she's notified with her. Pretty tough on her, isn't it? Yes, thanks to Endicott. I know exactly what happened, and I'm going to tell what I know. Don't you think it's Endicott's privilege to make his own statement first? Well? You're right. That's a good day, Ogreby. Yes? Good evening, Paige. Good evening, Endicott. I'm glad you came. Nasty business, this Dexter death. She was too well-known. People loved her too much. What's that got to do with it? I'm simply trying to tell you that Mrs. Dexter gave most of her fortune to this hospital. That's why there's so much feeling about her death. I didn't know. No one knew, except the board of directors. I've been trying to convince them it was an unavoidable accident. One of those things that sometimes happened. It was unavoidable, wasn't it? No, it wasn't. For some reason, you cut the pedicle too short for safety. It should never have happened. You're right. You're right. My place was with my patient, not in a broker's office watching my life savings being swept away. Interesting how greed and medicine don't mix. I have a little money, if it... Not enough. But you have youth. Your whole life is still ahead of you. I'm old. My life's all behind me. Even the money I've saved is gone. But you can always earn more. Not if I'm dismissed for this Dexter case. A split second, a woman dies, and a whole career dies with her. A split second, as against 40 years I've given to medicine. As chairman of the board, Dr. Pades, I regret to inform you that we hold you responsible for Mrs. Dexter's death. May I add that your refusal to defend yourself has not benefited your position? Rather than submit you to the embarrassment of a dismissal, we're giving you this opportunity to resign. Is that all? That's all. Thank you. Good evening, Miss Ogilvy. Praise Dr. Pades, Mrs. Howell. He's still in his room. I've been trying to make him eat something. Excuse me. Excuse me. Dr. Pades, you... Huh? Oh. Hello, Francis. What's the time? You've been drinking. Have I? Listen to me. You're going to pull yourself together. Go down to that hospital and tell Anakin the board where to head in. You're not going to let them make you the goat. You know, Francis, you're a very beautiful girl. Oh, stop it, please. All right. What is it you want me to tell the board, Francis? That Anakin killed a woman? That'll be nice, wouldn't it? He's a human being, just as liable to make mistakes as anyone. That's no concern of yours. If you resign, you admit you were responsible for her death. Uh-huh, exactly. Why, you sound as if you were going to resign. I have already. You're a fool. Thank you. A sentimental fool. I suppose you think you're being noble. I've been trying not to think at all. I don't see why you should. Because I hate to see a man throw his life away for nothing. That's what you're doing. You're giving up your whole career for a man whose outlived is usefulness. Well, you won't if I can help it. I'll see the board myself and I'll tell them the truth. I don't care if they fire me tonight. Sure, go ahead. And now who's being noble? I ought to slap you for that. But I won't. You're all mixed up with whiskey and heroics. You don't know what you're talking about. Good night. Whiskey and heroics. A split second. A woman dies. And a whole career dies with her. A green light. In just a few moments, our stars, Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland, will return in act two of our play. But during our intermission, we raise a question. Is truth stranger than fiction? We think that often it is more exciting than fiction. And to prove this, we're going to present to you a regular Cinderella story which actually happened. The heroine of this real life story, with the modern Cinderella, is Miss Ann McDermott of 229 Chicago Avenue, Oak Park, Illinois. She keeps house for her aunt and uncle. Her exciting experience started when her friend Marjorie dashed into the house early one morning. Gracious Marjorie, what are you doing here this time of the morning? Oh, Ann, I have to tell you right away. Tell me what? Why, down at the store, they're having a beautiful hands contest, and you must enter. Me? You're crazy. I'm not. Your hands are lovely. Oh, nonsense. All the young girls in town will enter. I'm 37 and I've done housework for years. I wash dishes three times a day too. But your hands don't show it, Ann. Oh, please do. It's this afternoon. Come on, just as a favor to me. Well, all right. But just as a favor to you, mind. And so Miss McDermott goes with her friend to the beautiful hands contest. There are many women in the contest, most of them young. We listen in as they wait to hear the awards. Oh, I just know you're winning. Oh, nonsense. I think we'd better go home. And now, and now we're ready to announce the prize winners, Miss Ann McDermott of 229 Chicago Avenue. It's you, Ann. It's you. Miss McDermott, please come forward. I can't believe it. There's some mistake. Miss McDermott, congratulations. Miss McDermott, ladies and gentlemen, keeps house. She's done all her own work for many years, and yet her hands are lovelier than those of many young girls. I'm happy to give her this prize. Yes, this actually happened. Here are Miss McDermott's own words. Lux was the reason I won the biggest thrill of my life and a grand prize. I do dishes three times a day, but Lux Flakes keep my hands beautiful. Thank you, Miss McDermott, for this convincing proof of how Lux Flakes for washing dishes keeps hands soft and white. Lux for dishes is such inexpensive beauty care. Every woman should guard the loveliness of her hands this way. Get the economical big box of Lux tomorrow. I return you now to Mr. DeMille. Errol Flynn, Olivia DeHavilland, and C. Aubrey Smith continue in green light. A few days have passed, and Frances Ogilvey still has not told the true facts of Mrs. Dexter's death. In despair, she turns to advice, her advice to the dead woman's friend, Dean Harcott. In the minister's study, she tells her story. The crippled old man listens quietly. And when I tried to make him tell that to the board, he refused. I could save him. I could save his career. But for some reason, he doesn't want it saved. Miss Ogilvey, no man makes sacrifices without reason. Whatever that reason may be, it is in itself compensation for his suffering. And whether you agree with that reason or not, you have no right to destroy it by exposing the sacrifice. I don't believe in sacrifices, Dean Harcott. I don't believe in eventual justice. I believe that one gets what one fights for, and that only the fitters survive. Yes. And yet, you'd give up anything, everything, for him. You have a remarkable talent for love. He said I had a remarkable talent for surgery. I know it's complex. But sometimes a view point simplifies things. I like to think of civilization as a great parade made up of all those who have lived, all those who are alive, and all those who will live. Many stumble, fall by the wayside. Many are lost. But whatever the individual problems, the individual destinies, the great parade of civilization must continue to march on to its own and much greater destiny. Maybe. But I've got my own little parade to push over some pretty rough roads. And I don't hear any bands playing either. I don't ask you to believe, my dear. I can only tell you that we, as individuals, are less important than our contributions. And we don't always know what form those contributions take. And in this case, my contribution may be silence? Yes. Well, I've taken a lot of your time. Is there something I can do to repay you? Yes. I want you to go into the anteroom. There'll be somebody there to see me. Ask her whatever questions you wish, and come back and tell me what she says. Very well, Dean Harcourt. Good morning. Is Dean Harcourt in his study? Yes, he is. I, uh, what is your name, please? Just tell him it's Phyllis Dexter. Phyllis, one moment, please. Dean Harcourt. Yes? Mrs. Dexter's daughter is waiting to see you. Phyllis, poor child. Will you do one more thing for me? If I can. That other door will lead you into the nave of the cathedral. Go there. Sit down. Face the altar. Think about what we've said to each other. Very well. Phyllis, come in, my dear. Oh, Dean Harcourt, I... My dear, my dear, those tears aren't at all becoming... Oh, I know, but I can't seem to stop. Mother was everything to me. She still is everything. Don't you remember how unafraid she was? Yes, and what happened to her? I went to the hospital this morning, right after the boat landed. I asked to see Dr. Page. Page? Endicott's assistant. He started the operation before Dr. Endicott arrived. Did you see him? No. They told me he resigned. Well, they tried to hide it from me, but they couldn't. It was too plain. Dr. Page killed my mother carelessly, viciously. Phyllis, go into the cathedral. Look up into his face on the cross. Think of him and of what hate did to him and what it is still doing to the world. Go now, while the hate is still in your... Mr. Dexter, please don't. Oh, she... Oh, my mother, I know. I know all about it, my dear. Come with me, please. We both have troubles. Perhaps we can comfort each other. Yes? Hello, Fran. Oh, excuse me. I thought this was Ms. Ogilvie's apartment. It is. Come in, please. Well, thank you, but... Oh, I'm a friend of hers. Well, that is. Well, we only met this morning. She brought me here to tea. Oh. Who shall I say is calling? Why, I'm... Hello. Oh, hello, Frances. Sorry if I'm intruding. I should have telephoned. No, it's all right. May I take your coat? Well, nothing. Oh, please, don't go on my account. Well, thanks. Pardon me for staring, but your face seems familiar. This is Phyllis Dexter. Dexter? She's the daughter of the Mrs. Dexter I was telling you about. Just arrived from England. Phyllis, may I introduce Mr. Walker? How do you do? If you're as nice as Ms. Ogilvie, you'll be well worth knowing. I hope you'll always think that. Oh, I... I think I hear the kettle boiling. Sit down, Mr. Walker. Thanks. So you... You met Frances yesterday, eh? Yes, at Dean Harcourt. Oh, what made you think you knew me? Why, you're... You resemble a photograph I often admired, the daughter of a friend of mine. The daughter must be very beautiful. Oh, I feel flattered. I think she'd feel flattered, too. Thank you. You just came from England, Frances said. Yes, my... Oh, my mother died. It was very sudden. I'm sorry. I lost my mother, too, a long time ago. I know how it is. You... You must try not to let it hurt you too much. Death is...well, it's a part of living, I guess. In a split second, a woman dies. So many things can happen... in a split second. Yes, yes, and sometimes it seemed to happen with deliberate cruelty. What? You'll excuse me, won't you? I haven't time for tea. Please tell Miss Ogilvie I had to go. What was that? Did he go? Yeah. What a strange man. He's one of the finest. He seems to be. Do you think you'll call again soon? I don't know. There's no telling what Mr. Walker will do... Come in, Doctor. I'm very glad to see you. Our first meeting was rather brief. I came here to argue with you, Dean Harcourt. Really? Sit down. I came to argue with you about your concept of everlasting life. I want to know how you can reconcile needless death, greed, the destruction of a career with... with your irresistible onward drive. Why? I'm the Doctor Page, who operated on Mrs. Dexter. Page? I see. You have a fine religion, Doctor Page. I have many, as far as I know. Religion has many definitions, at least in my dictionary. Such as loyalty, devotion, honor. Perhaps. Well, my dictionary defines it as a kind of opiate, used by people with hurt sensibilities to dull them into drowsiness. Would you say that of Mrs. Dexter? No. No, I guess not. But what of her daughter? Can she be like her mother? Eventually. And so will you. But will it really matter then? One has to wait too long. You've got to give up too much for moral victories. How do you know? There's hardly a man who hasn't been stopped by circumstances. I had ambitions, too. And then I became... as I am. I felt death would be better than wasting my life as an impotent cripple. I even sought death. Then suddenly, I discovered my course was upward. In spite of everything, I got the signal to go forward. At times I'm still delayed, no telling how long, but eventually I get the green light. And I know that once again, I commenced that irresistible onward drive. Who is it? Oh, who is it? Dean Harcourt, I hope... Oh, why, Mr. Walker? Walker? I hoped we'd meet again. Thank you. Yes, I see, Mr. Walker. I'm glad you've met. I think you two should know each other. Well, if you'll excuse me. Oh, wait, I... Goodness, it's lunchtime, isn't it? Is it? You must be frightfully hungry, Phyllis. Not particularly. I'm sorry, I can't offer you lunch. You eat, don't you, Mr. Walker? Eat. Oh, usually, yes. Uh, Miss Dexter will... Will you have lunch with me? Oh, I'd like to, very much. Good. You two run along now. I've got to make a telephone call. And by the way, if you know other plans, have dinner with me tonight. Both of you. Yes, of course. Goodbye, sir. Hello? Hello, Miss Ogilve? This is Dean Harcourt speaking, Miss Ogilve. Could you have dinner with me tonight? Spend it. Goodbye. I don't know when I've had a nicer day, Mr. Walker. Really? Well, that goes for me, too. Dean Harcourt's a remarkable man, isn't he? Yes. Well, you seem to think we ought to be together. Tell me, was he in the church before he got this attack of polyamolitis? What? I mean infantile paralysis. You know, I've been around doctors so long, I almost talk like one. Anyhow, was the Dean always in the church? Yes, why? That's because I've always had the idea that people turn to religion only when they're in trouble. Well, you would never have had that idea had you known my mother. Ah, but your mother was unusual. You did know her? No, no, no. But I've heard a great deal about her. Here, Sylvia. Sit down back there. She always barks at the cows. Stop it. Sylvia. Sylvia. I remember another dog called Sylvia. Mother wrote me about it. And that Dr. Page had it. Oh, you're Dr. Page, you? Yes. Wait, Phyllis, listen to me. You had to know some time. And you killed my mother. It was an accident. Oh, you might at least be man enough to accept the blame. Let me out, please. Phyllis, you've got to listen to me. Phyllis, Phyllis, if he doesn't come soon, I'm afraid we'll have to eat without him. Phyllis, have you any idea why he's so late? No, Dean Harcourt. A friend of yours, Mr. Walker. Walker? Yes, he came to see me this morning. And Phyllis happened to meet him. Did you have a nice luncheon? Phyllis, what happened? You lied to me, didn't you? Why didn't you tell me who he was? I see. Well, why didn't you? Because I saw no reason to upset you. I wanted to make it easier for you. And for him, too. I do anything I could to make things easier for him. Why should he have things made easier for him? Why he have all people? Because he's clean and decent and good. Because he's the finest man I've ever met in all my life. You think you have reason to hate him, don't you? Well, I tell you, you haven't. Phyllis, your mother... Oh, don't say it, please. I'm sick of philosophies, thermons, parables. I'm a human being. I have the right to hate her love. I was born with it. I feel it. It wasn't taught me. You love him. You love him, don't you? I love my mother. I give him his chance to explain. And did he blame someone else? No. How could he? That's right. How could he? He's too honest. Too honest to break the rules he plays by. What do you mean? Tell her, Frances. No. I'll play according to Paige's rules, too. He didn't have to listen to sermons to become good. He was born that way. And he'll always be that way no matter what happens to him. Well, I... I don't understand. You will, eventually. You don't really love. Frances? Yes? I've learned a great deal from you today. Thank you. Where are you going, Phyllis? I... I'm going to him. Do you know where he lives? I'll find out. Wait for me outside. I'll take you to him. Frances, you do that. Bring them together. Knowing that she loves him. He loves her, too. Did he say that? No one has to say it. It's in a woman's eyes when she's loved. I know. Well, good night, Dean Harcourt. Good night, Frances. Hello. Oh, good evening, Miss Ogilvy. We'd like to see Dr. Page, please. Why? He's not here, Miss. Not here? Where did he go? I don't know. It's the same. He left early tonight, and I'm to close the apartment myself. I see. Thank you, Mrs. Howell. He's gone. Yes. Well... he's joined the parade anyway. Station identification. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. We return shortly to Olivia de Havilland, Errol Flynn, C. Aubrey Smith, and to the third act of Greenlight. At now, during our short intermission, we want to devote the next few moments to an event unique in the history of the Lux Radio Theatre. We bring you two of the country's outstanding radio critics, Mr. Alton Cook of the New York World Telegram, who will speak to us from New York City, and Mr. Dinty Doyle, radio editor of the New York Journal American, who is here on our Hollywood stage. Both gentlemen have just concluded the tabulating of national polls conducted to determine the outstanding radio programs of the past year. Mr. Doyle's poll represents the opinion of all radio editors of Hearst newspapers. The World Telegram poll reveals the opinions of 211 radio editors. And the two polls represent newspapers whose combined circulation is over 36 million. Thus, you see the tremendous coverage represented by these two critics. Together, their checkups blanket the country. Criticism is a stimulant to the arts, to entertainment, and to all who strive to create. Whether their endeavor is music or literature, motion pictures, painting, public affairs, or radio. And certainly the interest of radio editors has helped broadcasting to come of age as a recognized medium of culture. Through our two guests separated by 3,000 miles, the Lux Radio Theatre extends its gratitude to the hundreds of newspapers and radio editors all over the United States and Canada, who are making sure radio criticism of equal importance to that of the stage and screen. And now from New York City, Mr. Alton Cook of the New York World Telegram. Thank you, Mr. DeMille. But tonight I'd rather pay my tribute to your program instead of a radio criticism. This is the fourth year your radio theater has led all the dramatic programs in the annual World Telegram poll. For a program in its fourth year, that's not at all bad. People have been having a lot of fun in theaters for a long time. They're having more now than ever before thanks to your radio theater, which gets into corners of the world the theater used to have trouble finding. This past month your program has brought one of the stage's great characterizations, George Arles and Disraeli. This same month, the program included the amusing and audacious idea of making an actor. And the program included the idea of making an actor out of good old Bob Burns and casting him in a Booth-Tarkington play. A theater as lively as that is a good addition to our equipment for enjoying life. Your radio theater Ritzley deserves the tributes voted to it by 211 American and Canadian radio editors in the World Telegram poll. My congratulations, Mr. DeMille, to you and to your sponsors. And for them, as well as myself, Mr. Cook, our sincere thanks. Two weeks ago, Mr. Dinty Doyle sat with my good friend Major Bose and myself when we spoke to the Lux Radio theater audience from New York. Tonight he's here in Hollywood, only this time he's doing the talking. Mr. Dinty Doyle. You said, Mr. DeMille, that this is a unique event of the Lux Radio Theater. Well, it's just as unique for Alton Cook and me because for once we're in complete accord. The poll which I was privileged to conduct voices the attitude of the radio editors of Mr. Hearst's newspapers, who also award to this program first place among all dramatic shows heard on the air in 1937. There's a familiar phrase to be found in front of most railroad crossings which seems to cover my activities tonight. I've stopped and I've looked and I've listened and I find the experience well worth the 3,000 mile flight I made to be here. I'm sure that many are perhaps a little curious as to the scene from which this program emanates. Let me describe it to you very briefly. Picture a large stage such as you might find on Broadway, any Broadway, and in the center front of the stage is the microphone for the capable performers who are bringing you green light. In command of the operations at stage right is Mr. DeMille speaking to you over another microphone. Across the middle of the stage is hunger curtain, hiding from view all the musicians except the conductor, Louis Silvers. It's not because we don't like to look at musicians, but simply because the curtain makes their music better over the air. In a balcony above and behind Mr. DeMille are the sound effects and across the stage in another balcony is Columbia's engineer and the broadcasting apparatus that starts this program on its way to your living room. I hope I haven't shattered any illusions other than the one that Mrs. Doyle may have entertained and believing her husband is a radio performer as well as a radio editor. Good luck, Mr. DeMille. I hope you try just as hard to get this award in 1938 as you did in the past year. After all, awards such as this are not given. They are won. Thank you, Dendy Dyer. Green light, starring Arrow Flynn and Olivia DeHavilland with C. Aubrey Smith. Two months have gone by and nothing has been heard of Newell Page. That last word comes from Dr. Stafford word from the fever-ridden hills of Montana where death lurks in the sting of an insect bearing the innocent name Woodtick. As Dean Harcourt and Phyllis listen Francis reads the letter aloud. You know, Francis, that research requires unbreakable nerves, endless patience. Newell is too sensitive for it. The fever's been raging round here for weeks and the things he's seen have gotten under his skin. He's working with me now on a new vaccine and he's doing great work but too much of it. I can't get him to rest. Do you know of any way to get him out of here for a while? Maybe there is something in his private life you know of that can be used. Will Phyllis? I'll take the next train. My dear. Will you be coming too, Francis? I? No. You'd better go alone. How's it going, John? Any results? Just about the same. Where were you last night? You look all in. I went through the valley on some calls. Well, eight more deaths. Eight? God, it's horrible. A little Woodtick bites a man. Three days later he's dead. If we only knew about that new vaccine. If, if, if, how are we going to know? All we know now is that it doesn't kill the guinea pigs. We still don't know if it makes them immune to fever. And if it does, what proof is it that it'll work on a human being? Ah, it's like shooting in the dark. John, suppose a man took a shot of that stuff, the new vaccine. A man? Yeah. And then suppose he let a Woodtick bite him. That'd prove something, wouldn't it? If he died it wouldn't. But if he lived. Then we'd know that the vaccine works. Unfortunately, we can't make that little experiment. Human beings aren't guinea pigs. Well, here's one who is. What? I did it last night. Did what? Gave myself a vaccine. Two CC. Then I let a Woodtick have a bite of my arm. Are you crazy? I haven't your patience, John. We'll know all about that vaccine now anyhow. Another man tried that up here. He lasted about three days. You're a fool, man. What do you think we have animals for? Oh, they don't need to justify their lives, John. I do. Answer that, wouldn't it? Hello? Yes. Who? Just a moment. It's, uh... It's for you, little. Me? Hello? Yes. Yes, it's Kate. Who's this? Phyllis. Where are you? Oh, yes, of course. Yes, I'll be right down. It's Phyllis Dexter. She's at the station. I'll saddle the bag. Oh, wait. I wish you'd take it easy. The more you exert yourself, the harder it's going to be for the fever if it hits you. Yes, I know. I know. John, listen. Something may happen that'll make me lose my nerve. If I do, you've got to promise me that you'll keep yours. If I get the fever, the vaccine alone has got to lick it. Then we'll know. No other treatments. Promise? No other treatments, no. Good boy. I won't be long. Take it easy, will you? Darling, I never thought I'd see you again. It had to happen. There wasn't any other way. I killed your mother, Phyllis. You didn't. She would have been the first to forgive you. As you forgive me? As I hope you'll forgive me. Oh, darling. Phyllis, you've got to leave here right away. Why? Because there's death on every bush, hiding in every flower. I don't want it to find you. Well, I'm going to stay. Phyllis, please. You must understand. There's no way of protecting you yet. Maybe in a couple of months. You never know. Sometimes it takes days. Sometimes it... Sometimes it hits suddenly. But we'll lick it. We've got to lick it. There mustn't be any more... any more... Always. What's the matter? Nothing. Then I'm afraid I'll have to drag him out of retirement. Where is he? Good evening. Good evening, Dr. Endicott. And I said I was going to bring you out of retirement. I might have added or forced you permanently into it. Well, what do you mean? Have you ever wondered what's become of Newell Page? I have never stopped wondering. But you did nothing about it, did you? He's with John Stafford in Montana. On Boone Mountain? Yes. I won't have him in that pest hole. He'll die like the rest of them. He may be dying now. He's down with spotted fever. He gave it to himself to test a vaccine. He won't accept treatment. Why is it your fault? Yours, do you understand? He won't die. He can't die. I'll go to him now. There's a pain in an hour. We'll go together. What is history, Dr. Endicott? Fever readings up to an hour ago. He's been like this all the time? Semicomas since Tuesday night. But what have you been doing? Waiting. Waiting for what? Waiting for him to die? All to live was his wish, Francis. Oh, it's inhuman! You can't do it! You can't! Don't do this. He's coming around again. John. Yes? Fever. How much? 103 an hour ago. How do you feel? Groggy. There's a pain in the right lower quadrant. The abdomen. Make a note of it. I want to see how long it lasts. Right. Did you take a glutenation test? Yes. Result? Positive wild-pulix reaction. Protein 619 and a dilution of 1 and 320. Oh, stop it! Stop it! Phyllis. You must understand that all this is being done for purpose. As time passes, I become weaker and weaker until either the fever breaks or I break. Please help me conserve my strength. Oh, I'll help you. Thank you, darling. He's unconscious. Not yet. Keep in her, Francis. You're an old-handed... Yes. Yes, Nual. Oh. Don't, my dear. Take her outside, Dr. Stafford. I'll take care of him. Fever. What is it? 103.6. Keep taking it. Every hour. It's a little higher. Tell me. 14.2. You should break before... 105. 105. I can't take 105. Nual. It will break. It has to. Nual, can you hear me? You've got to live, Nual. You can't die like this. It's not for me now. It's for her. She loves you. You've got to live. You can't die. You can't. That's about the same art action week. This next reading ought to tell. Paige. Listen to me. I... I've told the truth about... about Mrs. Dexter. But don't try to speak now. I should have told it long ago. I... I just wanted you to know. Thermometer, Miss Alderley. Here. Well? Get out of my light, please. Well, what is it? 103. Down. He's licked it. Quiet, dear. Nual, Nual, do you hear me? You've licked it, Nual. You're down to 103. And you've licked spotted fever. We'll shoot that vaccine into every man, woman, and child in the valley. You've done it, Nual. You, do you understand? Yes. Of course, men. The green light. Irresistible onward drive. Goodbye, Nual, and good luck. You all right, Walter? Of course we will. My regards to everyone at the hospital, Paige. You're going to stay here? I think so. There's work here for me. Goodbye. Goodbye. Francis. You better hurry. So you're really not coming? You've made up your mind? Yes, Nual. You see, I've had a green light, too. I was stopped for... for a long time, but... but I'm going forward again now. I'm going to try to tell you. No, don't. Just... just be happy. And make her happy. You're a good egg, Aguvi. Thanks. You are, too. For our curtain on green light. There's a word from Melville Roick, and then Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland return to our microphone. Mr. Roick. Here's an amazing fact, ladies and gentlemen. Amazing to a man at any rate. Last year's stocking bill for women of America totalled over $330 million. That's a lot of money. But every woman likes the flattery of lovely stockings. And they certainly do add to her beauty. However, if your stocking bill seems to be getting out of hand, here's a suggestion. Try washing your stockings in luxe flakes after each wearing. Luxe preserves the elasticity of the threads. They give instead of breaking so easily your knee or stoop down or strain them in any way. Harsh soaps or rubbing with a cake of soap weakens the elasticity. Then runs are apt to pop. To cut down these expensive runs to save on stocking bills, always use luxe flakes. Here's Mr. DeMille. A few years ago, when Errol Flynn was knocking about Australia, he and some friends bought a schooner and made a memorable 3,000 mile voyage to New Guinea. A set forth in his widely sold book, Beemans. So naturally, I was interested to learn when I was in Boston a couple of weeks ago that he'd just been in town looking for another boat. Does that mean, Errol, that you are planning to lift anchor again for those lazy South Sea islands? Well, I did by a boat, Mr. DeMille. 75 foot catch, which I've named after that old schooner of mine, the Sorocco. And I'm planning a trip too. But instead of the South Seas, I'll go to the West Indies. And when are you leaving, Errol? Just as soon as the next picture's finished, Livia, sometime in March. Errol, is this another costume piece like the Adventures of Robin Hood? I understand you're quite a dashing lad in your doublet and buskin and beard. Well, I hope the public agrees when they see the picture. But in this new one, I'll be back in modern clothes for a change. And when that's finished and when I return from my trip, I also hope we'll meet again with a great deal of pleasure listening to this program. And it's still more enjoyable to be able to take part. Many thanks, sir. I see, Olivia, that your schedule also calls for a little trip. Yes, for the premiere of another picture. Gold is where you find it. A number of the scenes were shot in a little town in Northwest California, one of the old gold mining towns called Weaverville. So we're holding the premiere there next Saturday. Well, I don't know much about Weaverville. But I believe it's the only town in the United States whose real estate had to be imported. Well, perhaps I better explain why. They did so much hydraulic gold mining there that the water washed away all the fertile earth. Grain fields were needed in the picture, so we had to transport growing grain and soil, two and a half acres in fact, all the way to Weaverville, where I suppose it's still growing. We just heard that everything is all set for the premiere, but the head of the Business Members Association says that they're a bit puzzled. They're not quite sure what we'd like to have after the premiere, chocolate or vanilla ice cream. But it's a fascinating little town, and I'm so anxious to see it once again. And now my thanks to you all. Let me wish you a most successful premiere of Olivia and chocolate ice cream. And you, Errol, clear seas and strong winds. Thanks, sir. Good night, Mr. DeMille. Good night. Good night, you both. Ladies and gentlemen, this is your announcer, Mel Boeruik. Before Mr. DeMille returns with some most welcome news about our show next week, may I say that our stars were assisted tonight by Janet Young as Mrs. Dexter, Roy Gordon as Dr. Endicott, John Lake as Dr. Lane, Lee Millar as Dr. Booth, Lou Merrill as Chairman, Ethel Wales as Mrs. Howell, Ross Forrester as Shopper, Henry Anthony as Police Officer, Coral Colbrook as Telephone Operator, Ingeborg Tillich as Nurse, and James Eagles as a Telegraph Operator. Lewis Silvers, another book by Dr. Douglas, White Banners, is being made now by Warner Brothers. Lewis Silvers was in charge of music for Happy Landing at 20th Century Fox Studios, where C. Aubrey Smith is now making kidnap. And now, our producer, Mr. DeMille. Next Monday night, the Lux Radio Theatre is privileged to present one of the greatest plays of that distinguished American dramatist, John DeMille. I refer to his Pulitzer Prize play, that dramatic and powerful love story of the waterfront, which met with such tremendous success on Broadway and in pictures, Anna Christie. And our stars, two of the finest, most popular performers the screen has ever known, Joan Crawford and Spencer Tracy. Our sponsors, the makers of Lux Flakes, join me in inviting you to be with us again next Monday night when the Lux Radio Theatre presents Spencer Tracy and Joan Crawford in Anna Christie with George Marion Sr. This is Cecil B. DeMille saying goodnight to you from Hollywood, Columbia Broadcasting System.