 And now, stay tuned for the program that has rated tops in popularity for a longer period of time than any other West Coast program in radio history. The Signal Oil Program, The Whistler. Signal, the famous Go Father gasoline, invites you to sit back and enjoy another strange story by The Whistler. I am The Whistler, and I know many things for I walk by night. I know many strange tales hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadows. Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. And now for the Signal Oil Company, The Whistler's strange story. She never would be missed. Mona had determined that her parting from her husband, Gerald Stanton, was to be gay, and as she put it, civilized. There would be no tears to mar Mona's beauty, no tiresome recriminations. Best of all, Gerald had understood her perfectly. He had seemed to realize at once why she preferred Vincent, why the divorce was so very necessary to her. And now there was nothing more for Mona to do other than wait for train time. Check on the few last-minute details with her maid. Oh, Lucille, did the man come for my luggage? He just left me then. You made it clear that I wanted to arrive in Reno the same time I do? Yes, and I phoned for a cab. It will be right here. You're an angel, Lucille. You've been so good through all this. You don't know what it means to find someone who's charming after so many years of... So many years of what, my dear? Gerald. Gerald, what are you doing here? I thought you'd gone to your club. I came back because I have something to say to you. I'll watch for your cab, madam. Thank you, Lucille. Mona, I want you to give up this foolish idea. Give it up. That's absurd. Everything settled. You agreed. I didn't know until today just whom I was being divorced for. You've always known it was Vincent. We've never made any secret of it. But I knew nothing about him. He's no good, Mona. I can understand your thinking so. It isn't just me. Do you realize he's been thrown out of every decent club in San Francisco? Why, no respectable society will tolerate him. You think you'll be happy married to that? I've never been able to understand your reverence for what you call respectability. He's a bounder, Mona. A cheat. Everything that's rotten. In short, a juicy topic for a club full of old men. It always comes back to that, doesn't it? You're young and I'm old. It's time we faced it, don't you think? Mona, believe me. If it were anyone else, I'd let you go. No protest. But this Carter, for your own sake, I beg you not to give up everything for him. I love Vincent and he loves me. You can protest or not as you like. I could make it very disagreeable, Mona, for both of you. Of course you could. You get into all the papers too. But I don't think you will. Where would your respectability be then? I think I lost it, Mona, when I married you. Your cab is here, Mrs. Stanton. I'll be right down, Lucille. Goodbye, gentlemen. One thing more, Mona. I'm going to revise our little agreement. There will be no property settlement. Now we come to the heart of the interview. If you leave here, you'll get nothing more from me. Vincent has enough for us both. It had better be a lot. You're rather expensive. I expect to be well-picked. If he marries you. Don't worry, Gerald. He will. Well, that's fair enough. Fair enough, Mona. You deserve each other. Car number 32, right here. Thank you. Say goodbye to me now, Vincent. I can't bear these prolonged farewells. Darling, here's something to remember me by. What is it? Open it and see. Vincent would a perfectly stunning ring. You like it? It's been in the family for ages. Oh, Vincent, I do love you, sir. Wire me when it's over and I'll meet you here at the station. Oh, no, darling, not at the station. I want to look my very best when I see you. Can't we make... How far away we always meet. Pietro's for lunch. One o'clock the day you get back. One o'clock. You'd better be wearing that ring. You'll see me flashing blocks away. There it is, darling. I've got to run. Goodbye, Angel. I'll be living for our lunch at Pietro's, darling. The goodbyes are over, aren't they, Mona? And you're on your way, alone on the train. Only the memory of Vincent's flashing smile to comfort you. To help you fight down any doubts, any misgivings that Gerald tried to plant in your mind. It's going to be all right, isn't it, Mona? Yes. You tell yourself that over and over again. But in the weeks you spend at Reno, you get few letters from Vincent. And then none at all. And then at last, you return to San Francisco, hurry to Pietro's, where you wait again. Because Vincent isn't there. You're terribly alone until... Pietro? Pietro? What is it, madame? Oh, Mrs. Stanton, I didn't see you come in. Welcome back. Pietro, for heaven's sakes, where is Vincent? When did you get back? Just this morning. Please, Pietro, where is he? Mr. Carter? I haven't seen him. He was to meet me here at one o'clock. I've called his apartment everywhere. I can't find him. What's happened? I'm afraid I don't know. That nonsense. You know everything, Pietro. There's something you're not telling me. I'm sorry, Mrs. Stanton. Uh, no, if you excuse me. No, I won't excuse you. Pietro, come back here. I want to talk to you. You're getting a little shrill, darling. You better take it easy. Oh, Blanche Frontaine, thank goodness for a friendly face. Maybe you'll tell me what this is all about. I won't pretend I don't know what you mean, because I do. What is it? What happened to Vincent? Not here. Everybody's watching us. Come on. Where are we going? To my apartment. We can talk there. Now, Blanche, please. I said we'd talk in my apartment. Now, come on. I know how you feel, Mona, but a lot can happen in six weeks, and... Well, it has. I can't believe it, Blanche. Who is this other woman? Alice Phyllis. Alice. Do you mean Vincent has thrown me over for that washed-out society, bud? I'll admit she is a pale one, but her family, my dear. Mainline, old God, and, oh, so respectable. Respectable. Oh, this is too much. I shouldn't surprise you. Vincent's always been a perfect sucker for that sort of thing. But he can't. He's going to marry me. I have his ring. Darling, what's a ring when he can marry a Phillips? This is the top for him. Big stop. He'll never let that go. I think you're cruel to say things like that. I face fats, Mona, and so must you. Now, forget it. Go away for a while. Pull yourself together. Exit gracefully, you mean? You can go up to my lodge, if you like. You'll be alone there, miles from everywhere. It'll give you time to get hold of yourself. Vincent loves me. I've given up everything for him. Husband, money, everything. I'll find him and talk to him. He'll say it isn't true. All right, darling. Have it your way. I will. You'll see. It can't be said that you didn't try. Can it, Mona? Your efforts during the next few days to find Vincent may well become legendary in the lush circles you inhabit. You phone his apartment, his friends, all the possible nightclubs. But he's never there. You write him notes and long, pleading letters, but they remain unanswered. And still, you refuse to accept the obvious. Finally, one afternoon at the cocktail hour, you catch him at Pietro's. He's as handsome as ever, but you're forced to see that things aren't the same now. Vincent has changed. Yes, I heard you were trying to reach me, Mona, but I really wish you wouldn't. It's rather awkward under the circumstances. Vincent, what are the circumstances? Oh, we know each other too well to pretend ignorance. Then it is true. Alice Phillips. Vincent, you can't do this to me. Well, nobody's done anything, Mona. It simply happened. And so I'm to be brushed off just like that. We should be grateful we found out before it was too late. Late? Do you realize what I've lost on your account? Well, that was your doing, Mona, not mine. Oh, you're contemptible. Just honest. Vincent, you don't love her. You couldn't. You love me. And it's all right, darling. I know these things happen sometimes, and I'm willing to forget it. Perhaps you haven't understood me, Mona. This isn't just a temporary romance. I'm going to marry Alice. Vincent. Which reminds me, darling, I'd like to have my ring back if you don't mind. It's a rather good one, you know, sort of heirloom. And I think Alice... Your ring, indeed. Oh, you! Just try and get it. All right, Mona. But you can get out of my life and stay out. Mrs. Stanton, please, I'll have to ask you... Oh, get away, Pietro. Would you like me to call you again? Get away, I said! Take a hand off of me! Mona, for heaven's sake, control yourself. You're making a spank. Control yourself, he says. Oh, that's good. That's very good. And quit hounding me, or you'll force me to do something unpleasant. Come, come, Mrs. Stanton. Let go of me! Please, wait, please. You'll never marry her, Vincent Carter! Not while I live! I'll kill you first! I swear to not kill you! Next weekend, before you start off on your Labor Day trip, wouldn't it add a lot to your peace of mind to know that no matter how hard you may drive, no matter how high the thermometer may soar, your motor is protected by an oil that won't break down under heat, an oil that won't let unnecessary wear rob your car of its pep and power and turn it into an oil eater. Then this week is the time to change to new signal premium, the wonderful new signal motor oil that reduces engine wear due to lubrication, 50%. In addition to providing the finest of lubrication, new signal premium protects your motor in four important extra ways. One controls harmful engine deposits such as carbon, gum and varnish. Two keeps oil rings clean and free. Three keeps hydraulic valve lifters from sticking. Four stops acid corrosion and rust. Yet all this extra protection of heavy duty type signal premium is yours at no increase in price at signal stations. So if you want to save money and your car too, get your motor oil change to new signal premium before your Labor Day trip. Get it changed at a signal service station. Well, Mona, you sensed it for weeks that something was wrong. That Vincent Carter had changed his mind about you after you've divorced your husband to marry him. And now meeting him face to face, you've heard from his own lips that he intended to marry someone else, Alice Phillips. And your own words, angry, excited words run through your mind to mock and torture you. Your threat to kill him. Yet you've been able to do nothing, nothing at all, except run to your friend, Blanche Fontaine, and pour out your heart. Oh, Blanche, it was so humiliating. And on top of that to be thrown out, what am I going to do? I've told you, Mona, go away somewhere by yourself and get over it. Go up to my lodge, darling. I'm running over to London for a few weeks. I shan't be using it. I've lost everything because of him. How could he do this to me? Why not? He's done it to every woman he's ever known. I wish I could hurt him as he's hurt me. You can't. It doesn't work that way with Vincent. When he's through, he's through. And like the old song, they never would be missed. They never would be missed. Here now. In case you decide to be sensible, here are my keys to the lodge. You'll be alone there. It's miles from everywhere. Nobody has to know anything about it. You're very kind, Blanche. No foe, nothing. It'll be good for you. The lodge is well-stopped. You'll make out. I'll make out better, right here. I'm leaving tomorrow, so if you decide to use the lodge, go on up. Just stay as long as you like. Blanche, if you think I'm just going to leave town quietly and sneak up to your lodge and let Vincent come to get... That's the sensible thing to do. You should begin to use your head. I'll use my head. But I won't use your lodge. Suit yourself. But in case you change your mind, I'll leave you the keys. Goodbye, darling. I'll call you as soon as I'm back. Have a nice trip, Blanche. Oh, Vincent, you... Oh. Here's one who's going to be... missed. It's a vicious plan, isn't it, Mona? But you've decided, yes, to disappear suddenly and without explanation. You'll do it in such a way that Vincent Carter will be blamed for your disappearance. You're certain that the publicity, the suspicions in his direction will cause the ultra-respectable Alice Phillips to break off her engagement to him. And once that happens, you're certain you can win him back and you're certain your plan will work, aren't you? Only Blanche knows that you know of the existence of the lodge and you've told her you weren't going to use it. You're sure she'll be on the high seas bound for London and will learn nothing until her return. The next day, a phone called of Vincent is your first move in working him into your little scheme. I don't know what possessed me, Vincent. I was dreadful and I'm terribly sorry. It's all right, Mona. Alice is a lovely girl and I think she ought to have the ring. Of course. Come over and have a drink with me. Show me there are no hard feelings. I'll give it to you then. I'll come by. Just for a minute. Done and done, darling. See you. Lucille? Yes, madame? I'll be dining out, Lucille. Fetch me something to wear and hurry. Mr. Carter's coming right away. Mr. Carter? Yes, he just called. Asked me to have dinner. But you think you should. Why not? If he wants me back, I'm quite willing. But Mrs. Stanton, how do you know that's what he wants? How do you know it isn't? What do you mean, Lucille? Well, he called here yesterday when you were out and he said dreadful things. He said that if you didn't quit bothering him he would do something drastic. I didn't tell you that because I... But that was yesterday, Lucille. Oh, don't worry, I can handle him. Oh, I hope so, madame. But, Lucille, please don't tell anyone who I'm with. I promised Vincent he doesn't want it known yet. I don't like it, madame. I don't like it at all. Nonsense! Come on, help me get ready. He'll be here. You've been very decent, Mona. Thanks awfully. Well, after all, darling, when I have a ring I want a man to go with it. Have another drink? No thanks. I'd better run along. Must you. I was rather hoping you'd let me take you to dinner sort of farewell. Oh, I'm afraid... It's a divine little place just out of town. Very quiet. Nobody'd know. You're very persuasive. For old time's sake. We can take my car. What do you say? All right, I'd rather like to. It's all so easy, isn't it, Mona? You go downstairs with him. Make sure the doorman sees you drive off together in your car. The dinner at the obscure country inn goes pleasantly, with Vincent obviously relieved at your show of goodwill. By the time you drop him off at his apartment he's forgotten the past unpleasantness between you. Here you are, darling, right to your door. Go straight to bed now. Oh, I will. I will. I'm tired. Au revoir. It's been fun, Mona. Fun's just beginning, darling, for both of us. And now, Mona, the easy four-hour drive to the lodge, where you run your car out of sight behind some trees, then settle down amid the comforting simplicity of oil lamps and wood fires, certain that the mechanics of your scheme are going successfully. Yes, your last scene with Vincent and your disappearance is complete. The news breaks even sooner than you expected, and you walk down behind the clump of trees to listen to your car radio and the news reports. San Francisco police were still continuing their questioning today concerning the sudden and unusual disappearance of Mrs. Mona Stanton. The maid stated emphatically that her employer had no intention of taking a trip and expressed the possibility of foul play. The police are dissatisfied with the explanations of one Vincent Carter, former fiance of the missing woman. It's perfect, isn't it, Mona? And the following day, the reports are even more exciting, until finally the one thing you most wanted to hear. In the case of Mrs. Mona Stanton missing for the past five days, socialite Alice Phillips flew to Santa Barbara tonight, accompanied by her mother. Sources close to Ms. Phillips indicate that she has broken her engagement of Vincent Carter and principal suspect in the mysterious Stanton disappearance. And now for some other close news. It's as if he wouldn't stick by you, Vincent there. Too respectable. You've won, haven't you, Mona? You tell yourself over and over again you've won. Vincent has been humbled, Alice driven away. You can return to him now, take him back on your own terms. And then as you finish packing for the trip back to the city and close your suitcase, you hear a car approaching the lodge. Only one person knows you're here, Mona, just one. Blanche! It has to be Blanche. She's bringing the police. I've got to get out of here. It's all clear to you, isn't it, Mona? Blanche must have heard of your disappearance before she embarked for London. Changed her plans and hurried back to San Francisco to investigate. You've got to hurry and get away. You race for the rear door to the cabin and the lamp crashes to the floor as you swing the door wide open, Mona. You're not stopping for anything like that now. No, you race to the clump of trees in your car. Your only chance to get away without being seen is the old river road. You noticed it while walking one day. Now it's got to provide your escape. Your heart pounds as you release the brake. Let your car coast silently down this back road. A mile from the lodge you risk starting the engine. It's all right, isn't it, Mona? And exactly four hours later, you're walking in on Vincent at his apartment. Mona! Had enough, Vincent, darling? I could disappear again, you know. Come in. Come in, Mona. Ready to listen to reason, I take it. It's close in here, darling. Untidy, too. But you don't look too dapper yourself. What do you mean, Mona? What do I mean? You asked me up, didn't you? You've had your fun. Why bother to come back at all? I want a husband, darling, in security. I want you. Security? You don't have to lock the door. I shan't run away so long as you're reasonable. That's right, Mona. You won't run away. Ever. Vincent, what are you doing? You had your little joke. Now I'll have mine. Oh, come now, darling, put it down. You don't deserve to live. I said put the gun down, Vincent. Keep away. Come on, give it to me. Let go, Mona. Let go, I say. Boy, you little... High heels can be rather painful, can't they, Vincent? Now our places are reversed. You're the one who doesn't deserve to live. I was only trying to scare you, Mona. I wouldn't have killed you. Then you shouldn't have let go of the gun when I kicked you because I am going to kill you. No, no, please, Mona. Wait a minute. Why should I? After wrecking my life and tossing me aside as if I were a casual pickup, you were going to kill me. I'm just turning the tables on you, that's all. You stand there, Mona, terrified at what you've done. The revolver you rested from Vincent still smoking your hand. Then as the paralysis of shocks subsides, you begin to realize your own danger. You've killed a man, Mona, and your feelings about him are well known. It comes back to you in your own words, shouted publicly that day at Pietro's. You'll never marry her, Vincent Carver. I'll kill you first. And now you have killed him, haven't you, Mona? And who's going to believe that you didn't intend to? Suddenly you lean down, quickly press the gun into Vincent's hand, smooth over the evidence of the struggle and slip out of the apartment. Within a half hour you're at police headquarters telling a plausible story to the lieutenant in charge. You see, Lieutenant, I'd gone up to the lodge for a complete rest, so I hadn't even heard a radio until a few hours ago. I happened to turn on the six o'clock news and there was an appearance, but naturally I came back at once. I see. I'm afraid it's been a pretty serious mistake all around. It's dreadful. Well, let Vincent know immediately. I'm afraid it's too late in the system. What? The report just came in. Vincent Carter shot himself not more than half an hour ago. He... Oh, no. Steady. Steady. It's all my fault. I hadn't gone away. I wouldn't say that. You didn't know. Oh, what shall I do if only I hadn't... Best thing is to go home and try to get some rest. Oh, I couldn't. Not now, not when... Try, though, will you? It's too bad, but you're not to blame. Oh, no, but in that... I'll try. Next weekend, when you start off on your Labor Day trip, it'll be mighty handy to have a good map in your car. And there's no map handier than the three ones you'll find at Signal Service Station. No need to squint to find where you're going on a Signal map. They're jumbo size for quick, easy reading. And no need to wrestle with them, getting them open or folded again. Signal maps have the latest accordion fold for more convenient handling. But that's only the beginning. In addition, Signal maps contain a guide to interesting places to visit, plus a traveler's radio guide so you can follow your favorite programs as you travel, plus and large sections of metropolitan areas. And if you happen to need a street map to guide you in the larger cities of the Pacific Coast states, Signal stations have them free, too. In fact, whether you need a free map, some helpful advice, or just a tank full of the famous go farther gasoline, you'll find that friendly, independently operated Signal stations have just about everything it takes to make your driving over Labor Day or any day more pleasant. It's a shock, isn't it, Mona? Your disappearing act had unexpected results. Vincent is dead now, dead the police believe by his own hands. It appears that you had nothing to do with it because of your story that you were in your car at the time, driving back from the lodge to save Vincent from the suspicion that he had done away with you. And they can only think of you as an innocent figure in a comedy of misinterpretation. The next day, the police lieutenant comes to your apartment. Confidently, you answer his questions with your usual inventive. I told you all I can, Lieutenant. I left the lodge right after the 6 o'clock news broadcast. When I heard on the newscast that Vincent was being blamed for my disappearance, I went back to Captain. But what difference does it make now? Because, Mrs. Stanton, Vincent Carter's death wasn't suicide. Wasn't suicide? You mean Vincent was... Murdered, Mrs. Stanton. The angle of the bullet through the shot couldn't have been fired by Mr. Carter. Let's see. But surely you don't suspect me. Yes, I'm afraid I do. You have the strongest motive in the world. I've learned a great deal about you since I last saw you, Mrs. Stanton. Mr. Carter broke up your marriage, then tossed you aside for another woman. But that was some time ago since then. At least two different people heard you threatened to kill him. But I told you that was... We've got a pretty strong case against you, Mrs. Stanton. A woman answering your description was seen leaving Carter's apartment building about the time of the murder. Possibly so, but it couldn't have been I. I was driving into town. Let's see. Now, as I understand it, it's an easy four-hour drive from the lodge into town, right? Yes. Now, you say you left there right after the six o'clock news guest. You didn't arrive at the precinct station until nearly 12. That's almost six hours. That leaves two hours to account for. That's plenty of time for you to kill Carter. Oh, well, I can explain that. You see, I went to the village first, had a little lunch before driving in, and since I didn't realize there was any rush, I ate rather leisurely. Then I decided to phone or wire or something, but changed my mind and drove on in. Well, I see. Don't you have to pass the lodge? Well, yes. Then I'm afraid I'm going to have to arrest you in the charge of murder, Mrs. Stanton. But that's absurd. Why need you? Because you're lying. You couldn't have passed that lodge. The road was blocked. The lodge was burning to the ground. Somebody was in a big hurry to get out of that lodge. In the rush, they knocked over an oil lamp. Oh, it's only Blanche Fontaine hadn't driven up. Miss Fontaine's still in London. That car you heard was a couple of forest rangers. Thank you. Lucky thing they were in that neighborhood. We might have had a bad forest fight. Come along, Mrs. Stanton. Let's go down the head for it. Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program the Whistler each Sunday night at the same time. Signal Oil Company has asked me to remind you that starting next Friday, a heavy holiday-bound Labor Day traffic will make it even more important to drive at sensible speeds, be courteous, and obey traffic regulations. It may save a life, possibly your own. Featured in tonight's story were Bill Foreman, Alice Reinhardt, Les Premaine, Joe Gilbert, Ted Von Els, and Bill Boucher. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen, with story by William Engvich and Cleo Davis, music by Wilbur Hatch, and was transmitted overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. The Whistler is entirely fictional, and all characters portrayed on the Whistler are also fictional. The polarity 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. Stay tuned now for the Horace Height Show, which follows immediately over most of these stations. This is the CBS Radio Network.