 And now, tonight's presentation of Radio's outstanding Theatre of Thrills, Suspense. Tonight, the story of how perhaps the smallest of items can be the cause of unbelievable terror and hardship. In this case, the lack of a little loose change. So now, with Harry Bartell as Clark, here is tonight's suspense play, Chicken Feed. All right, it was a silly thing to fight over, I admit it. A nickel, a measly worthless nickel. Chicken Feed. Junior asked for a nickel and I flipped it over to him and Mary said I shouldn't spoil the kid. It was time he learned the value of money and I said, great, Scott, if I couldn't give my own child a nickel without her jumping down my throat, well, you know how those things get going. You keep saying things you shouldn't and she lashes out with an answer. And before you know it, you've stormed out of the house and you're taking it out on the car. Fifty miles cooled me down a little, but nothing much. I automatically slowed up when I came to the sign you're now entering Lansing, California. Go slow and see our town, go fast and see our jail. Driving through the quiet Sunday street gave me time to think of something besides the biting words Mary and I had slugged at each other. I pulled up a little cafe next to the police station. It had a whitewash sign on the window. Best cup of coffee in town for five cents. I went in. Mr. Brady? Too over easy, Sam, heavy on the pride. What's yours, mister? Coffee, please. Coming up. What's your starboard? Well, Phillip, they're coming for him in the morning. Think you'll be able to hold until then? You got out of that Bennington jail like a paper bag. Don't worry, mister. Phillip won't get out of it. I listened to them with half an ear while I sip my coffee. There was a stack of the local papers nearby and I pulled one over to look at. This Phillips was on the front page. Bank robber killed a teller. He had a face I wouldn't want to run into, close. After a while, the hot coffee made me feel better. Maybe I'd been at fault as much as Mary. She wasn't the only one who had a bad temper. On a sudden impulse, I left my coffee and went over the phone on the far wall. I heard the dial tone, then I fished in my pocket for change. It was empty. Say, Miss, could you change a dollar for me? I want to use a phone. Yes, sir. What's the matter, mister? My wallet. I seem to... Look, I'll be back in a minute. I wasn't the only one with a temper. I'd stormed out of the house without changing the contents of my pockets to the suit I was wearing. I didn't have a dime on me, not a nickel. I rummaged in the glove compartment. Mary sometimes left the coin purse, but this time, naturally, it wasn't there. What seems to be the trouble, mister? Oh, officer, I seem to have come off without my money. Embarrassing. Yeah. I didn't realize it until I tried to phone. Where's your driver's license? It's in my wallet in San Francisco. Got any other identification? Well, the registration slip on the car. That's the car. What about you? Look, officer, I'm Ralph Clark, Clark and Jacobs in the Hatfield building. We're attorneys. And afar from home to be without any dough, aren't you? Well, I came out of the house without changing the stuff into this suit. You know how that happens. How do you happen to have the keys to the car? I don't take them out when it's in the garage. Say, you don't think... What were you headed for? Well, I know it sounds funny, but nowhere, really. You see, I had a fight with my wife and I just batted out of the house to cool off. I'll tell you what, Mr. Clark, suppose we just mosey over to the station. Station? Say, what is it? Nothing. Nothing at all. Just next door and you can call your wife from there. Well, I don't see why that's necessary. If you just lend me the money, I could call here and reverse the charges. We'll go. You can leave the car here. I'll take that key. Now, look here, officer. I don't get that. Move. Come on, move. Tell you better after he makes a call. Give me the phone, will you, Rod? That's out of order. When did that happen, Argo? I reported it. They said they can't have a man here before tomorrow. Well, did you tell them this is a police station for Pete's sake? Sure, I told them. Not bad, though. We get incoming calls. We've still got the nickel snatcher over there. Here's the pay form, Mr. Clark. You can make your call from there. I don't have any money, remember? Okay, here's the nickel. A nickel? That's all it takes in this town. Let me get your water, please. Let me speak to your wife when you get it. This is going to sound fine. Just fine. She'll think I've really tied one on. Operator. Operator, I want to call San Francisco. Fillmore 60098. And reverse the charges, please. Thank you. Your number, please. This is 460. Collect calls from Lansing, California for Fillmore 60098. Will you accept it? Lansing? Well, I don't know where... It's me, Mary. Take the call. Oh, it's you, isn't it? What do you think you're doing, 55? Will you accept the call, madam? I should say not. Very high, dear. Mary, wait. Hey! I'm sorry. The party will not accept the call. Look, Operator, get her back with you. This is important. I'll ring them again. Well, that's a sweet heart. She's there, the little... Why didn't she pick up that phone? Your party doesn't answer. Oh, soap, huh? Hey, they kept our nickel. Let me have another one, will you? I'll get hold of my partner. He'll identify. Look, we've wasted enough time. Come on in here. You're locking me up, right? What's a big idea? I'm holding you on suspicion. Suspicion of what? Defrauding the cafe for one thing. Then I want to check that car. You think I stole it? It's been done. Oh, now wait. If you let me phone... You're entitled to one call you've had. Now, look here, Officer. Inside. Jail. Jail, all on account of a measly nickel. It allows a stinking nickel. You see, a jig. That's too bad, ain't it, Pete? We could help you out. Maybe we can. Have you got a nickel? Sure. I got three of them. Will you lend me one? Just one. What's it worth to get some? I'll send you $10. From pie in the sky. Hey, my wrist watch. What's the matter with it? Nothing's a matter with it. It's worth $50. Here, you fool, look at it. It's yours for five cents for one measly nickel. What can you lose? Is it hot? You mean stolen? Of course not. What are you offering it for a nickel for? I want to get out of this felting place. Oh, so you don't like our company, is that it? No, ain't that just too bad? What do you think of that, Mr. Phillips? You don't like it. Have you got any nickels, Mr. Phillips? I followed his glance. The first time I saw deep in the gloom of the locked cubicle the face that I'd seen on the front page of the newspaper. The face I'd said I wouldn't want to run into. Close. Well, it was close, and I was glad there were bars between us. Mr. Phillips here, he's a big shot. Robbed four banks and broke out of two jails. Killed a man, too. Sure, we're just vags. But, Mr. Phillips, he's going to the hot seat. They're coming to get him and take him back to Utah and burn him. Ain't that right, Mr. Phillips? Mr. Phillips don't want to talk about it. Mr. Phillips don't want to talk about nothing. Mr. Phillips ain't very sociable. Just like this. Now, look, fellas, I want to get out of this jail. Here, take the watch and give me that nickel, huh? Tell you what, I'll match you for it. Match me? Yeah, nickel against the watch. Well, take it or leave it. All right. Leave Pete hold the watch. I'll flip the nickel on the floor. You call. Head. Tails. I win. Hey, wait a minute. Get your foot off it. How do you know it's tails? It's tails, ain't it, Pete? Sure it's tails. Here's the watch, then. Hey, what is this? Watch it, brother. Well, you're not going to get away with this. Get it. Ow! Officer, it ain't nothing. There's no guy as acting up as all. Quiet down in there. You're trying to get us in trouble, huh? No. No. Look, fellas, for heaven's sake. Shut up. Okay. Hang a room. I'll be the judge and you'll be the prosecutor, huh? Yeah. Maybe Mr. Phillips will be defense attorney. You want him, Mr. Phillips? He don't want him. Prisoner at the bar, stand up. I said stand up. Now cut it out. I... Counselor, what's the prisoner charged with? Your Honor, this man is a desperate criminal. He's charged with breaking into jail, insulting his fellow boarders, forced sportsmanship, and fights. A very dangerous character, Your Honor. Yeah, guilty on all counts. Prisoner, have you anything to say before I pronounce sentence? No? Okay. I find you five cents. Hand it over. You know I haven't got it. Can't pay, huh? Well, then you can work it out. Raider, one cent a day. Your first job will be to shine the court's shoes. Shine your own shoes. Oh, so he's going to be like that, huh? Hold them slim. Officer! Officer! Oh! The price down in there. I'll get on them shoes. It was unbelievable the filthy and human jobs they could think up for me to do. And with every move I made, I could feel the glittering steely eyes of Phillips, the silent man in the locked cage next to me, following me, weighing me. And then he winked at me and nodded his head as over a signal. And then his two huge arms came through the bars and thrust me reeling across the cell and I fell and hit my head. And that's all I remember. The show's outstanding theater of thrills, suspense. Thursday night on Night Watch, a CBS radio police recorder goes right along in the prowl car with actual police. There's nothing added to the truth, nothing subtracted from it when Night Watch tells its stories. Don't miss it later tonight on most of these stations. And now we bring back to our Hollywood soundstage Harry Bartel as Clark in tonight's production of Chicken Feed, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. When I felt the stealthy touch on my shoulder, I opened my eyes. I was still on the stone floor and Phillips was bending over me, holding a revolver. You fool. You wanna wake them punks? Get up quick. I glanced quickly at Phillips' cell. It was open and so was the door to mine. We walked to the front desk. They're bound and gagged securely, Sergeant Ross Clare. Here. Which is the key to your car? This one. Okay. Take it and let's move. Where's the car? Over there. You drive. The guy could spring that crock with a hairpin. You nearly done a fine job of louching things up. What happened to you getting thrown in the can in the middle of the day? They picked me up on suspicion. Well, I wasn't supposed to be able midnight tonight. What? And all that phony kid stuff about the nickel. Yeah. All you had to do was slip me the word that Jerry Nichols sent you. Served you right to wear them luscious treatages. I thought I was an accomplice. Sent by a partner to help him break jail. And all my screams about a nickel had been nothing but a signal to him. A signal that I came from Jerry Nichols. Jerry, got the hideout set up? Uh, yeah. What? The hideout? The hideout. We're going to Jerry's place first, right? Then what? Well, I'll take you to Jerry's. And then he'll take over from there. How far is it to Jerry's? Well, hey, look behind you. What's the matter? There's a car following us without lights. Where? I don't see... What the... Say, what's a big idea? You trying to cross me? Go ahead, get it started. It's flooded. I'm getting that lit car passes. You make to the other side are no tricks. Just to make sure I'll take this key. Remember... I had made myself a chance and I took it. I slipped out of the car on the other side and ran across the fields until I could run no more. After an interminable two miles I found a road and after a while a dark shape loomed up before me a gas station. And through the glass I could make out the outline of a telephone. I tried the door. It was locked, of course, but I found a tire iron and sprang the latch. I ran to the phone and almost threw myself on it before I saw it was a pay phone. In a rage I shook the black box. There must be some money in this room. My eyes focused on a battered desk. There was some change in it. I took a nickel. It kept me San Francisco. Sutter 15994. Thank you. It'll be a slight delay, sir. I'll hold on. But hurry, operator, it's important. One moment, please. Far down the road the headlights of a car jockled over the rise and aimed toward me. I hung up the receiver, closed the cash drawer, snapped the lock on the door. Then I crouched beneath the desk. The cops running out of gas in the middle of the night. Hey, come on in. It's chilly with the door open. But don't tell me. How'd you do that? Well, it was two of them. He had an accomplice. So he was a lawyer. We found their car abandoned on the road back at Ferris's Hopfield. Ran out of gas. It can't be far away. Hmm. Big reward for Philip's after he broke jail at Bennington, wasn't it? Yeah. Thousand dollars. Hey, you know him, don't you? You were in the Bennington poke when he did that break. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, we used roommates for a night. I was pretty scared. How'd he do it? The break? Well, I don't know. I was sleeping it off. It's a thousand-dollar reward, huh? Don't you go getting any ideas now. That Philip is a killer, and so does his partner, most likely. Well, I ain't exactly helpless myself. Got me a nice little feller in my side ear. You take my advice, Chumman. Put the gun away. And show up here. You talk soft and let us do the capture. Sure, sure. I'll play safe. Well, we'll be gone. Just wanted to alert you, Jerry. Yeah, well, thanks. So long, boys. Look, Mr. I... I'll do the talking. Who are you? You've got to believe me. I'm not a criminal. I'm a lawyer. Oh, yeah. You must be that other one. Hey, keep them hands up. Now, where's Phillips? I left him in the car. Now, that's another thing. You can get the reward. I know who he's going to meet, and they're going to a hideout. Who's she going to meet? Somebody named Jerry Nichols. There. Now, if you let me get to that phone, I can clear everything up. No, you don't. You stay right where you are. I have a partner, my law partner in San Francisco. I only broke in here so I could phone him and he'll identify me. You don't believe me? Yeah, I believe you all right. Then what? Answer it yourself. You'll see. Yeah, not on your life, Mr. where you think I'm out of my mind. But you've got to answer it. Jerry, you don't know what I went through to place that call. You can't just stand there. You're Jerry Nichols. Yeah, that's right. So you see it. Jerry! Jerry! You stand over there where you can't see it. Jerry! Yeah, come on in, Phillips. That just made me $1,000. You're worse than he is. Shut up. Maybe I can get a reward for you, too. A small one. I landed my side just below the belt in the avenues of pain spread out like the cracks in a hammered window. But somehow, strangely, it didn't stop me. I kept moving toward him. He backed away surprised. He was aiming for another shot when we got him. He got the gun and he got my throat. He fell backwards over the chair and I was on top of him. As we thrashed around on the floor, I brought his hand up suddenly and smashed his own g- I got up gasping for breath and then I realized that that I was all right. Yet he'd shot me, hit me. I should be lying there on the plank floor instead of that grotesque heap in the shapeless flannel nightgown. I felt my side where the bullet had struck. Brought my hand away. There was no blood on it. There should be blood. I touched the spot again, fingered the contour of something small and round. I pulled it out of my watch pocket, battered where the slug had struck it. That almost doubled. Nickel. Nickel. I'm the 20th part of a doc. All a man needed to buy a cup of coffee to make a phone call to pay a fine in the kangaroo corn. To save his life. And I'd had it all the time. I'd had it all the time. Francisco, shall I connect you, sir? Yeah, honey. But first, get the Lansing police station will you operate. Lansing police. Yeah. Shut up, Jerry. You're gonna live. I'm gonna be in court with you. Yeah, I wouldn't give a plug nickel for your chance. Fine photographer has now heard Friday nights on CBS Radio. Tomorrow, marking his move to the new night and time, Casey tackled a tough assignment confronting a corrupt political boss, a beautiful red head and the wayward son of a respected cop in his efforts to crack a protection racket rooted in the city. Don't miss crime photographer in action tomorrow night against crime and criminals. Next week, the simple tale of a woman who finds herself accused of murder and yet has no remembrance of either the act itself or the person she is said to have killed. We call it lost. That's next week on Suspense. Music composed by Lucian Marlowic and conducted by Lud Bluskin. Chicken feed was specially written for Suspense by Lawrence Goldman. Featured in the cast were Clayton Post, Jack Krushen, James Nusser, Vic Perrin, Edgar Barrier, Michael Ann Barrett, Larry Thor and Eleanor Tannen. Thursday nights on the CBS Radio Network.