 The anchor-hawking-glass cooperation brings you crime photographer. Ethelbert, why the grin? Well, Casey, tomorrow is Halloween and I keep thinking of old Lamb Peabody. Why him? Old Lamb could think of more tricks for Halloween. Nobody could beat him. He was famous for his tricks. Well, I suppose that's one way to get famous, to do something better than anyone else. Well, you're so right, Casey. And you know when you make something better than anyone else, you become famous, too. And that's why anchor-hawking is the most famous name in glass. Ladies and gentlemen, this is Tony Marvin. Every week at this time, the anchor-hawking-glass cooperation of Lancaster, Ohio, and its more than 10,000 employees, bring you another adventure of Casey crime photographer. Ace Cameraman, who covers the crime news of a great city. Written by Alonzo Dean Cole, our adventure for tonight, great grandfather's wrench receipt. The Blue Note Cafe, the night before Halloween. Hmm, strange, that's tonight. In honor of the event, the long mirror behind the bar has been more or less tastefully decorated, but the decorations used last year, and for a number of Halloween's before that. And Casey, regarding them critically... Uh, Athelbert, why don't you ever get some new decorations in this place? Yes, and those witches look awful tired. I know Casey, I told the boss, but he said the only guys who'd be critical of our old Halloween decorations were a few of our old customers who always owed us money anyway. So? Boy, did I step into that one like a dove. Why, Casey, you know I'd never dream of hinting. But if you got 28 bucks and 40 cents in your pocket... All right, here's 20. I'll let the 840 ride and give me a receipt. A receipt? Since when ain't you trusted me? I always take receipts. You never asked me for one before. You didn't let me finish. I always take receipts for dough paid out just before Halloween. Just before? It's been an old family custom, Athelbert. Ever since my great-grandfather's terrible experience. What was that? Well, maybe I'd better let sleeping ghosts lie. Sleeping ghosts, did you say? Yeah, great-grandfather's experience was with a supernatural. Uh-oh, I think we've stepped into something, Athelbert. Is it scary? It scared my great-grandfather plenty. Would you like to hear about it? You're set to tell it anyway, so go ahead. Yeah, we're listening. Well, to begin with, great-grandfather was a Casey. And the Casey's were Irish. Now he tells us that. My great-grandfather Casey, whose first name was Patrick, by the way, was a young guy when this happened. And by his own admission, he was one of the laziest lugs in County Cork. Oh, so you get it from him? I'd ignore that. But like all of us Casey's, he had a lot of talent and personality. We ignore that. Well, he was a fine fiddle player. And all the girls around were crazy about him, especially Molly McBride, to whom he'd become engaged. Well, one fine October day in Ireland nearly a hundred years ago, the two of them were on their way to pay the rent. Will you get up off that log and stop your fiddling? Ah, no, Molly, darling. How can you delay so when what we have to do is so important for us both? By now, when you promise to pay Sir Timothy the rent, you owe him. Dark night will be upon us before you reach his lordship's door. Ah, the old man won't mind. Sir Tim dotes on me, Molly. Why, when I served under him in the army, pat me by, he used to say, pat me by. Give me that fiddle. Here, here. Now let go, Molly. You'll break it. Patrick, last night when me father, against his better judgement, lent you the farm rent, you owe Sir Timothy, to his faithful you promised him you'd settle down to work and stop idling with your tunes. That is a promise I'm keeping from the day you and me are married, on the day after all Saints' Day. Oh, so you're putting off keeping it. Patrick Casey, unless you make up your mind and turn over and new leaf this very second, there'll be no marriage between you and me. I promise, sure, sure I swear it. Then let's be on our way to his lordship's. We start this very instant after you give me a kiss. No, that's waste in time. Kissing you is never waste in time. Now let me go, Pat. Let me go. Oh, no, darling. Oh, Patrick, it is so much stronger you are than I am. I love you, Alana. You really are going to settle down. You'll no longer be just procrastinating, Pat, the lazy fiddle player, as folks call you. I saw one should have been known as Mr. Patrick Casey, the ambitious businessman. It is that I am right now, Molly. Then let's be on our way to Sir Tim's. It is like the wind I'll go there, but first let's have another kiss. No. Ah, just one, Molly. No, I tell you, Patrick, no. Oh, Patrick, it is so much stronger you are than I am. That's the kind of a guy my great-grandfather was when he was young. And that's the kind of a gal Molly McBride was. Well, I hope she finally bent that fiddle over his head, Casey. She didn't, Danny. Great-grandfather got what was coming to him another way. Go on and tell us. Well, Ethelbert, the two of them got to the landlord's house about five or six hours late. This landlord was a tough old character. The rent owed him was long overdue. Outside his door, Pat had an attack of cold feet. Molly, Molly, I've been thinking, poor Sir Timothy's a very sick man. And we shouldn't disturb him so late in the evening. Now, let's come back in the morning. Patrick, no. It's not a second longer. I'll let you procrastinate. Here, now, don't pull that bell cord, Molly. Aye. If you're going to take me as your bride on the day after all Saints Day, Pat Casey, it's a house you've got to have for me to live in. And there'll be no house unless your rent is paid. Have you still the money that my father lent you? Aye. It's safe inside my pocket. Now, when you pay it to Sir Timothy, mind you get a receipt for it. A receipt? Well, it is a businessman. I'm making of you, Pat. You get a receipt. Oh, darling, you don't understand. No, I don't. Someone's on locking up the door. There'll be all Michael Feely, his lordship's body servant, and another hard, rough man. He was once a sergeant over. Oh, so it is you, Pat Casey. You're late. Get you inside here. Yes, sir. Come on, Molly. Here is your lordship. Who? At last you stand before me. Good evening, your lordship. Good evening, you bid me. When at noon you said you'd be here. Come close to this chair. I'm chanted with me sickness. When I twist your lion's throat. Stay where you are, Pat. I will, Molly. Lord and borns, he's brought a woman with him for protection. He did know such thing as a responsible tenon of your lordships. He brought me here to introduce me. Do it, Pat. Sir Timothy O'Hare, this is Molly McBride, my future wife. You are the future wife of procrastinating, Pat. I am going to marry Mr. Patrick Casey on the day past all Saints Day, your lordship. Mr. Patrick Casey. Oh, me fat size. Me condolences young woman in me heartfelt pity. But future wife or no wife, Pat, I want the money your own for a full-term rent. And since you can't pay it, I know you couldn't. I'm going to ring your neck. Your lordship, I have the money for you. Here, look, it's in this bag. Oh, oh, make a feeling. Bring me Brandy quick. For the full term, your lordship. I borrowed it to pay you with. Oh, borrowed it here. That explains everything. For the moment I thought you'd gone to work and earned it. Give me the money, Pat, and may the lord help its lender. My father lent this money, sir. Your father? And sure, you mustn't take a word I've said in my earnest. See, I told you this man dotes on me. Molly, we'd best be going now. Not till you get your rent receipt. Molly, I beg you. It is a matter of business. The man might die and we'd have not to show. Ah, sir, Tim will never die because heaven won't have his likes and the devil will be fair to take him in. What are you two whispering to yourselves about? Please, your lordship, for the rent Patrick's paid you, we want a receipt. A receipt? No, no, your lordship. Yes, your lordship, I... And you scuddies, they're going to mistrust you no hell. No, sir. But just the same. We want a receipt. You... Oh, brains and pawns. Ah, all right young woman. She'll have it. You've picked the card in for yourself who knows what she wants and gets it. A receipt she wants for procrastination, Pat. And she's going to marry the nanny. The master has a poor weak heart, Pat. You should take shame for yourself making him laugh like that. Michael, it's really... Your lordship, what's the matter? Pat, he slumped over in his chair. Michael, Michael Feely, the middle master, Sir Timothy, he's dead. Dead? Ah, I was mistaken about the devil. He wasn't afraid to take his lordship. Pat, we didn't get our receipt. Ah, well, it's all right, Molly. The silver we paid is here to prove our claim. Where is the silver? He laid it beside him on the table. Well, it's not there now. Molly! The money's gone! And it was a great mystery where the money had gone to. My great-grandfather and his fiancee searched everywhere. Did they search that servant, Kate? No, no, no. But there was to be later proof that Michael Feely didn't take the bag of silver. Well, tell us what happened next. I'm going to win. You know, a hundred years ago, you couldn't just pick up a telephone and call in help when death occurred. They laid the old man out decently in his bed, and Pat was putting off going for a priest and the undertaker. While Molly worried, Michael Feely sat grief-stricken at a chair. A receipt to show you ever paid that money, Pat? When Sir Tim's son, John, takes over the estate, he can hold you for the whole term's rent again. Why, he can do no such thing, Molly. Not when there's Michael Feely to testify that he saw us pay it. I'll testify if I'm able, Pat. If he's able, he says, Pat. Mind you, you don't start him laughing himself to death. I can't realise me the year old master's gone. Pat, do you really think the devil took him, as you said a while ago? Well, as one who knew Sir Tim's character, Michael, in both war and peace, I hardly think the blessed sands would want the man. Ah, wherever he's gone, he's all alone. I'm all alone after being his friend in 740 years. Where do you suppose our rent money went to? To my mind, the solution of that is very simple, Molly. And knowing how his lordship loved money, I think he took the silver with him. Sure, and it'll be entirely melted by now. But you shouldn't be talking to the dead this way. Whatever else you may see of him, Sir Tim was a man. And now I shall hear him not call me Michael Peely no more. Michael Peely. Patrick! Molly! It is the voice of me master. I'm coming, Sir Tim. All Michael has come to join you. Stop him, Pat. He's our only witness. Sir Michael, wait. Come back. I'm here, your lordship. Again, we together again. Here, Michael. Michael. Here now stand up, ma'am, and speak to me. Ah, Ramali. He's not... Yes. The man's dead. Oh, nothing to show for the rent. What are we going to do? The story will continue in just a moment. America is literally a land of milk and honey. And thousands of American beekeepers are producing just about the best honey on earth. Straining it and bringing it to your table in convenient crystal clear glass jars. These jars of liquid sunshine range from a pale, pale gold to a deep rich amber. And each is packed with energy, quick energy, safe energy. Keep a jar of honey on your breakfast table always and serve honey with hot breads of all kinds. You'll find that honey adds an exciting note to the most everyday menu. And there are dozens of uses for honey. Honey is wonderful to sweeten cakes and cookies. 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And the old man had despised him. Naturally, he demanded the past you rent on Pat's farm. And when he was told... I swear I paid the rent Sir John just like we've said. But you have no receipt. We had a witness. And like my honoured father, that witness is dead. Enough of this fuss. Patrick, Casey, our terms will rent you owe. If you do not pay, I turn you off your farm. Pawn, we meant to be married on the day after all Saints' Day. Better for you, Molly McBride, that such misfortune be averted. Casey, tomorrow is all Saints' Day and I want me money then or out you go. I can't borrow the money twice, Sir. I care not how often you borrow it. I ask only that you pay it once. You'd reduce me father's holy memory when you say you gave him that of which he left no trace behind. Well, how could he leave a trace, Sir, when his master took a master's sudden? What do you mean by his master? The devil, of course, Sir, who took both man and silver. To dare insult the sacred memory of me parent. Holy pious man who was now with the heavens angels. Patrick, Casey, I gave you till all Saints' Day to pay the money that you're owe in. Now I won't accept the money. Instead, you must bring proof of the vicious scandal you've just mowed. And when you don't, I'll not only turn you from your farm, I'll have you jailed for slander. Oh, Patrick. Oh, Molly. It seemed a great grandfather to have a possible out after that one. He took Molly to her home, and that night on Halloween, the two of them sat on her doorstep while he played the hopeless thoughts of his thing. Don't play any more sad tunes, Pat. Put your fiddle down. All right, Molly. This is a fine mess of things I've made. Is there nothing that we can do? Well, you heard the young lord. Tomorrow I must produce proof. That you paid his father money. And that his father took it with him where I think he went. It is a difficult assignment. It is a tremendous assignment. You'd have to die yourself to get such proof. Molly, do you insinuate that if I died, I'd be thrown into association with the likes of Sir Tim? Oh, no, the lord forbid. If I could only meet the devil here in a personal, friendly way. Patrick Casey. Molly. It is me father calling from inside. Molly, leave that good for nothing and come into the house. Your father don't like me since I lost the money that he lent. Molly! I must go in. I love you, Pat. And I love you. Good night, darling. Good night, Pat. Sure. And a cold doorstep is soon the only place I'd have to rest. Well, come, fiddle. After tomorrow it'll be you and me wandering in the cold hard world alone. Tomorrow, come all saints' day. Molly will be lost to me forever. Could I have another chance, I'd mend my ways? I'd even go to hell for another chance. Would you, darling? What? The fascinating Pat. His lordship's voice. His law. Michael Veely. Michael Veely. Yes, my lord. It's both of them speaking from the dead. Michael Veely. That's that lady's countenance down here. That I will search in. Where are you? I can't see you. No, I see you now, Michael Veely. You're ghostly far. Come, Pat, to his lordship. No, no, no. Now go away. If you feel, stay where you are. If you dare for the chance you wish, but now, then come. He mean for Molly? Aye. Sure, and it's dreaming I am, but lead on. You have not far to go. The door lies here. Door? There's but a hole in the ground. It will close like a door once you enter. You dare for Molly? Aye, so Tim waits below with your entry seat. Lead on, man. I follow. First lay down your fiddle. It must be left here. My fiddle? It is wood and very dry. Oh. I get your implication. Stay here and scorch, fiddle. Now lead on quick, Michael, before I change my mind. Come. I come. Ghost above me here. Let me out. Thanks, Patrick. Now you stay oiled. Well, you have the silver I paid you, and my entry seat. Now you're going to give me one or the other, so I can wed Molly on the day after all same. Stop. Excuse me, sir, for my social error. Here I know one should not mention the same. Don't! Oh, sure. I'm completely mortified at my own bad manners. Now, sir Tim, will you please hand me that silver or my rent receipt, and I prefer the last name. Not yet, Pat. Nothing for nothing is the road we live by here. If something you want, then something you must do to earn it. For what you hold, I'll do anything at all. You're the fiddle, little boy. Will you play us a tune? That would be a pleasure of the finest. But above, sir, Michael Feely, had me leave the fiddle. Yeah, because here we have a special one for you to play. Here it is, Pat. One of metal that glows with quite hot heat. You can leave this place as you came in, a worthless bag born, or you can leave with self-respect and win the carly in the jello. Which fiddle will you play? The one you left outside? Or this one here? For Molly, you'll give me that rent receipt? Or the silver to prove your tale to the fool who is my son. I advise that the seat is asbestos. The silver has been here over long to ever cool. I'll play your white-hot fiddle, sir. Yeah, Michael Feely. Place it in his hand. Aye, sir. Now play a jig-tune, Pat. And do not skimp it. Play every note, and dot, and bar. Play from beginning to the finish and earn your right to live and love. For the details of what happened right after that. But next morning, on all Saints' Day, the sexton found him lying in the churchyard in a peculiar place and in a peculiar condition. He ran to tell Molly McBride, and she lost no time in coming back with him. Speak to me, Patrick. It is me, your Molly. His eyelid fluttered open then. The man's coming too. Oh, thank heaven. He lives. Oh, how come he to be lying on all Sir Timo Hare's grave? Oh, look at his poor hands. They're burned to the bone. Yet he's clutching something in them something like. Second chance. Hey, speaking. Tell me you're all right, Pat. Tell me. Molly. Molly, darling. Oh, Pat. I'm a cushioner, Lionel. Oh, even now, Pat, you're so much stronger than me. Why are you lying here? And what happened to your poor hands? Oh, my hands. Molly, what day is it? All Saints' Day, Pat. Tomorrow's our wedding day that was to be. This is to be, you mean. Lead me to Sir John. What do you mean, Pat? Ah, soon you'll know for young Sir John right. Run, Patrick. This is your last day of grace. Run and hide before he has you jailed. Sure, and I'll not run from that man. There's the thing of what we want. Whoa! Barney, column. Seems that worth for a scab for me. No, no. Touch me not. I warn you all. Here, Sir John, is your parents' rent receipt. Pat. What stuff is this? What do you go at morning? You said you had none from his hair. That was a day ago at morning. Do you know your father's writing? Holy Saints, his very scrawl. But yesterday it stated... It was made last night, to be exact. Eve of all Saints' Day. When came you by this? Perhaps, Sir John, for your family's honour, it is a matter we should discuss in private. Yes, yes, yes. Everybody's step aside. Not I. You'll have no discussions, Patrick, that I don't know about it. Now, Your Lordship, that we're all alone, the three of us together, you'll know that this receipt is written on unburnable material. That is in my favour, sir. They did since his death. I see that you've drawn your own conclusions. Patrick, where on earth did you get that writing? Nowhere on earth, my darling. Well, Your Lordship, is this the proof you demand? Patrick, my friend. If you'll just give me that receipt, we'll let the matter drop. To preserve the reputation of your sainted father, I'd be glad to let you have it, sir. But this receipt is all I have to show that I paid in your rent. I'll give you another gladly. Well, now, I have a fancy for this one. I'll give you a receipt for two years, Pat. No, now I'm thinking of the signature of a dead man on Asbestos. It'll be worth much more than that to Autograph Collector. We'll say five years free rent and the money you borrowed I'll pay back myself. Pat, take it quick. Sergeant Horace's money. I am thinking, Sir John, that the bride I take tomorrow should have a fine wedding to do so. That too I'll give. And a wedding trip the two of us at like across the seas to America. It's yours. And I'll throw in a personal gift to boot Pat. I'll buy you a fine fiddle. Ah, that you won't. From the feel of my hands I never want to see a fiddle more. But all else is a bargain, Your Lordship. Bring that asbest... that paper to the manor and we'll put it all in writing. Good-bye to you now and blessings on your way. Oh, Pat, five years free renter. A bridal trusso and a trip to America. Kiss me, Medarlin. Would you have me waste time before I get the deal in writing? I am now Mr. Patrick Casey, the ambitious businessman. Oh, Patrick, I don't like you this way. Oh, and don't you now? Come to me, Molly, Medarlin. You know, your way. It is much stronger you are than I am. Join the crowd of the Blue Note in just a moment. Our government asks us to save food to help relieve starvation abroad. Now, there are more ways than one to save food. You can use less or you can use food to better advantage. So here's a suggestion. Serve more oven baked dishes. Delicious nourishing baked dishes can be prepared from the less expensive cuts of meat or from leftovers. You will enjoy these big steaming casserole dishes, particularly when they come to the table warm, fragrant, and appetizing in beautiful pale blue Fire King oven glass. Fire King oven glass is amazingly easy to clean, amazingly sturdy. Now, you'll find Fire King oven glass at five and 10 cent stores, department stores, and other stores selling household glass. Fire King prices are amazingly low and every piece is guaranteed for two years against oven breakage. Fire King oven glass is a product of anchor hocking. The most famous name in glass. And father married Molly McBride on the day after all Saints Day, huh? Yes, Ethelburton. When they came to America on their wedding trip, they liked the place so well they stayed there. Eventually contributing one press photographer to their adopted country. And a very good press photographer, Annie, if I may say so myself. You can't win with this guy, Miss Williams. Mr. Casey. There's a gorgeous moon tonight. It's a real harvest moon, Annie. Uh... You like to drive one the long way? If I didn't. I'm sure it's much stronger you are than I am. Starring Stotz Cotsworth as Casey is brought to you each Thursday by the Anchor Hocking Glass Corporation. Makers of Fire King oven glass. Anchor glass containers. Anchor caps and closures. All products of Anchor Hocking. The most famous name in glass. Original music is by Archie Blyer and the program features Miss Jan Minor as Anne and John Gibson as Ethelburton. Pat was played by Carl Swenson and Molly by Kathy McGregor. Herman Chittison is the blue note pianist. This is Girl Scout Week. The Girl Scouts believe and rightly so that better citizens build a better world. Tonight Anchor Hocking gladly salutes all the 1 million girls from 7 to 17 and their leaders who are part of this splendid movement making a real contribution to peace through understanding and friendship. This is Tony Marvin saying good night for the Anchor Hocking Glass Corporation of Lancaster, Ohio with offices in all principal cities of the United States and Canada. This is CBS The Columbia Broadcasting System.