 ADVENTURES BY MORSE Carton E. Morse presents It's Dismu to Die featuring Captain Friday. If you like high adventure, come with me. If you like the stealth of intrigue, come with me. If you like blood and thunder, come with me. When Captain Friday and Skip Turner arrived in New Orleans on the return home from the Chilean jungles, a telegram was waiting for them. It read, Implore your health. Impossible to contact police. Can you meet me, Lake Drummond, South Carolina, on the edge of Dismu Swamp immediately? You decided to go to Lake Drummond, South Carolina, Captain Friday? No, it was Skip. He made up our minds in about two shakes of a lamb's tail. You don't go on right, I did. You forgot the important part of that telegram. What's that? It was signed Julie Lane. The damsel in distress. This little female ring in her hands in the middle of the Dismu Swamp in South Carolina, can you? Anyhow, not a pretty little one like Julie. How'd you know what she was like? You never heard of her before. Brother, when it comes to female women, I got second sight. I was as pretty a hunk of gallows as ever I set eyes on, too. Black hair and blue eyes and skin like wild honey right out of the cold. And married, Skip, don't forget that. No, I ain't forgetting to look on her face when she told us her husband was lost in the swamp. Lost? Yes, that's the word she used. She said her husband had been lost in the Dismu Swamp for more than a month. It's all she told us until we were deep in the swamp. They reached Lake Drummond just after sunrise on a brilliant October morning when a dawn wind ruffled the water, stained by juniper and cypress, to the color of Old Madeira. There they met Julie Lane. He was waiting for them with a flat bottom boat, waiting to pull them into the heart of the swamp, waiting fearfully and begging them to hurry, hurry. In five minutes, they'd left the wide reaches of the lake behind them. Giant cedars and cypress, older than the memory of man, blotted out the sun. Her husband was lost, and there was no time to talk. That's all she would say. They pushed their way through networks to tangled grapevine and honeysuckle overhanging the stream. Captain Friday and Skip alternately polling and fending the boat from snags of fallen timber. The girl Julie hung over the bow, scanning the water for cypress' knees, waiting just below the surface to rake the bottom of the boat. Snag Skip, watch it. Oh, man, old man. The fella sure picked the right name for this place. Dismal. And dark and damp and crawling. The bottom of a well would be cozy by comparison. At least well water looks like water. This stuff looks like all Custer's army got the sales massacred in it. How you coming, Julie? All right. Stop polling now, Captain Friday. Oh? Cypress' knees under water, a whole forest of them. I'll have to pull us through. Hey, let me up front. I'll do it. No, no, you just waste time. I know how to do it. I know the channel. Okay, but I feel awful foolish squatting here like a blamed engine while a little old scrapper squaw no bigger than my arm does a hard work. Just sit quietly. Skip. Yeah? You smell something funny. Yeah, this whole stinking swamp. No, I mean about the girl's story. Her fish factory couldn't reach no higher. Her husband lost him in the swamp but she don't call her cops. Doesn't call in anybody for more than a month after he's gone. Nobody knows about it except us and the boy's father. What I want to know is why ain't Julie's father here instead of her? You think if one of them had to go traipsing around in this swamp, it would be him? If he's able-bodied. He was able-bodied enough to come camping on Lake Drummond with Julie and his son back when Julie's husband disappeared. Yeah, that's right. The whole story's a phony. You guess ain't no husband. Oh, I imagine there's a husband all right but nobody but a darn fool or a dinosaur would wander off alone and risk losing himself in this primeval wilderness. There's got to be more to it than that. Yeah. Well, as soon as we get us a chance to talk, little Miss Julie's going to have a raft to question stance. There. It puts us in clear water again. Hey, the creek's widening out. Use yours, Captain Prody. We'll make better time. You're the boss. Nothing but a few sapers to watch for. Man, I'm just a fella to do the watching, too. Come on back here, Julie, and give yourself a rest. I don't want a rest. I'm perfectly all right. Sugar, you're a real smart addition out, orders. Now let's see how good you've been taking. Give me your hand. Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Oh, you're just plain chucked it out, that's all. Come on. Easy now. There. Now sit yourself. But you'll have to keep a sharp look out. It's so hard to see in this twilight. Yeah. The moss-hung trees has closed down on them till you think we was rowing around in midnight. That never gets light in the swamp. Well, don't you worry. I got eyes like a hoodie out. Well, get up there in the bow and keep those hoot all eyes peeled. Those snags won't move out of our way. Somebody's always taking the joy out of life. Okay, Cap. Hold it to the set of the creek. Now, Mrs. Lane, let's have it. What? The story. The real one this time. I've told you the story, Captain Friday. Except for one thing. Oh, don't you see, I couldn't stop to explain. We had to hurry to get here first. Please. Oh, let's skip one thing at a time. You told me that you, your husband and his father made a camping trip to Lake Drummond. Your husband wandered off one day and burned. I take it he wasn't lost after all. No. Captain Friday, he was kidnapped. Oh, now we've got some. Why didn't you go to the police? Look around you. What good do you think the police were doing here? I've always lived close to the swamp. I love it. I know it as well as anybody. But there are miles of it I've never seen. Nobody has. Except maybe a descendant who, on occasions, are a queer mixture of the back country people, live to themselves. They've had these swamps to themselves for ages. Of course, they had to fight snakes and bears and quicksand. Is that stuff in here too? Plenty of it. That's another reason I couldn't ask the police for help. A note from the kidnappers warned me. They said they'd put Johnny in quicksand alive. Oh, great. They promised to return him safe if he paid up. They said they'd bring him back with what they said. But they didn't want money. What? Oh, whoever heard tell a kidnapper's not interested in dough. These aren't. Well, then what do they want? I can't tell you. Now wait, Mrs. Lane. How do you expect us to help you if you won't say what's behind all this? But I don't know what's behind it. Honestly, I don't. Oh, Captain Friday, what does it matter what they want just so we save Johnny? He's been with him a month. He must know something about them. They wouldn't dare let him go. Well, maybe you've got something there, Sister. Easy, Cap. The crease getting narrow again. Oh, you can still use the oars for a while. Well, we're almost there. Well, pardon me if I sound curious, but just where is that? The police where. I lost the dummy. The dummy? What's a dummy got to do with it? Not a dummy. The dummy. The big shaggy cajun who lives in the edge of the swamp and can't talk. I followed him. As far as they'll bend up ahead. And lost. Losing folk seems to be awful bad habit of yours. Well, you just try tracking somebody through this country. You think this dummy had something to do with your husband's disappearance? I know he did. Once a week he goes into the swamp and each time I lose him. This is his day to go in again. I thought if we could get here first we could hide and watch him. Oh, so that's the reason for the hurry. There. Reach me the pole. Will you skip? Bye, short. It's pretty narrow here for Roland. We only had a few minutes start as it was. The dummy always leaves, right? Hold it. What's up? Listen, hear that? It's the dummy. Yeah, right behind us. Skip, grab those vines. See if you can haul us into the bank. You bet your life. Captain Friday, it's only a few yards to the bend. Can't we get around it so we can watch? No, not a prayer. I've only chances to take cover. Let's work right under the vines. Yeah, okay, but it takes some do-it. The stuff's been here since the year... Yeah, there. Yeah, that ought to do it. We're out of sight now. Mrs. Lane. Yes? Answer my questions, but keep your voice down. All right. How did you know the dummy was mixed up in this? After the first kidnap note was delivered, I watched. The dummy brought others. Did you question him? No. He can't speak or write, and he pretends to be more feeble-minded than he is. But he's not crazy, Captain. Does he know you spotted him? I'm sure he doesn't. If he didn't... Oh, there. He's close. Glory, hallelujah. Do you see what I see? I do. That ain't a man. It's a gorilla. I told you he was big. You didn't exaggerate, nun. Six feet, six if he's an inch, and built like a tar barrel. Lady, if that guy had caught onto you and wrapped a hand around your soul for the night... I know, I've been terrified, but I had to find Johnny. Listen, that dad. Sounds like a gorilla, too. It's the way it talks to himself. Now he's around the bend. Shove us out, Skip. I'll help, Captain. You've got the pole ready. That ain't necessary. Here goes. Like a rabbit out of a hole. A couple of good thrusts ought to do it. Okay, now. Harder port. Well, hold on. Hey. What is it? Look for yourself. He ain't here. But he's gotta be. We were right behind him. He couldn't just vanish. He has. Are there any cross-dreams here he might have turned on? Not as far as the next bend, but he didn't have time to get that far. Well, then he's taken to a trail. Mrs. Lane, you stay here. Skip and I are going to search the banks. Right where they can. Here I go. Look out. The quicksand. It's all right. This stuff will hold. It's like balancing on top of wet jelly, though. We won't go far. If anything frightens you, sing out. Oh, just hurry, please. You'll lose him. On my way. Yeah, get going, Skip. I'll keep in your tracks. You're all going right. I knew somebody handy if this ground starts grabbing me. Nothing to do but slam straight through these vines. They as close to the bank as you can. There's got to be a trail here somewhere. Well, if there is, it'll show up like a lighthouse in a fog. And I can show you some light, too. It's dark on the inside of a cow. Yeah. Funny to think it must still be daylight up above this jungle. Yeah. Maybe we've made better time searching the stream for the dummy's boat. Oh, sure. He had to hide it somewhere. And at least we could tell our elbow from third base. If you want to go back. Yeah, I might try this a little further. Can't get brought in. Skip. That's Julie. Yeah. Stay with me, Skip. Yeah. Hey, can you see where you're going? Yeah, a little light from the creek along the trail we broke. Now there it is straight ahead. Lucky we didn't get far. Yeah, we're here. We're here, Mrs. Lane. What? Well, we're here, but she's gone. Yeah, boat's gone, too. They both vanished. Just like that dummy guy. But you couldn't be out of shot range. Hey, Julie. Mrs. Lane. Can you hear me? Oh, yes. He can't hear you. This child will be Mrs. Lane. But I don't think she will answer. Hey, who's that? I can't see anybody. No, Senoras. You cannot see me. I don't think you ever will. I don't think you will live so long. Captain Friday and Skip Turner have gone with Julie Lane in search of the girl's kidnapped husband. They are deep in the heart of dismal swamp South Carolina, a fearful region of ancient moss-hung trees, swarming vines, rotten earth and quicksand, so buried in vegetation that not even a bird can live there. They were trailing the dummy, a huge gorilla-like descendant of a Cajun swamp family. But around a bend in the creek, the dummy vanished. When Captain Friday and Skip left Julie to search for him, she vanished, too, and their boat disappeared with her. They shouted for her, but their only answer came in the mocking voice of an unseen man. No, Senoras. You cannot see me. I don't think you ever will. I don't think you will live so long. Oh, you don't, huh? You just step out and show yourself. We'll see who lives the longest. Hold it, Skip. You, whoever you are, is Mrs. Lane with you? See, Senor, she is here. Morales has told you. Ah, so that's your name, Morales. I won't forget that. Listen, if Julie's there with you, why don't she answer us? Have you heard that girl? But she is not hurt. It is because she does not wish to be hurt that she will remain quiet. What are you talking about? Have you forgotten the dummy? Me. I am not so big, but he is much man. I do not think he'll like it that the Senora Lane lead you here. She make one song. The great hand of the dummy will reach out and like chicken for the bud. Goodbye, Senorys. Oh, that low down. Listen, Morales, maybe we can make a deal. So? And what have you to offer? Safety for you and your gang. We'll get out of here and keep our mouths shut. You can go right ahead with your dirty work. And from me, you want why? The girl. Only the girl? Not the young husband, too? He'll have to take his chances. Just give us Mrs. Lane. No! You do it to Julie. Enough dummy, enough. You see, Senor, I do not wish to hurt you. Not yet. Such a beautiful lady. Come on, Morales. What about my offer? Your offer? I spit on your offer. I am safe now, Senor Capitan. You will never escape from these woods. I wouldn't count on that, brother. And how will you go? You are many miles from Lake. You have no boat, the beds of the creeks. They are full of quicksand. And the woods, have you not seen? To go even a few yards requires many hours. No, Senoris. You will stay here till you rot. Bring me a woman, dummy. Wait, Morales. There is nothing to wait for. I go to show the doctor our so pretty prize. She was not invited here, but she will be most welcome. The doctor also appreciates the beauty. Farewell, my friends. And pleasant dying. Doggone it, Cap. Are we going to let that cheap gangster get away with this? Did you hear what he said about a doctor? How does a doctor fit into this picture? Never mind, no doctor. What are we waiting for? For our pal, Morales, to get out of your shot. Yeah, but all that truck you was feeding him about, trading Julie for safety. You must have known he wouldn't go for it. Oh, but he did. Huh? I wanted to keep him talking. Not hard to do. Boys like Morales like to run off at the mouth. Talking? Skip, when Morales first spoke, did you tell where he was? Oh, I gotcha. No, I couldn't. Sounded like it was all around. That's it. All this water pressed down by the jungle makes a cave effect. But I knew where he was before he left. Well, I sure. Right across the creek, behind that wall of fallen timber. Well, come on. What are we waiting for? Yeah, better test the creek bottom first. Here, I'll get a branch off this tree. Yeah. Lots of easier desks and smothering and good. How's she feel? Okay. No suction. No mud to your knees, though. Come on, let's go. Oh boy, you ain't kidding. I'd sooner wade through a tub of glue. Yeah, good the creek's narrow here. Yeah. But what are we gonna do now? There ain't no bank over here to climb out on. Water goes clean up to a mess of fallen stuff. You reckon we can clamble over it? Well, the boat's didn't. Got to be a way through it somehow. Yeah, I'd give a pretty to find it. This stuff they call water feels like snakes tugging at my legs. Uh-huh. Nasty. Tugging. Skip, you've got it. Who, me? Yeah, the water. Take a look. It's sluggish, but it's flowing. Hey, seems to be going under the barrier. Exactly. And that's no pile of lumber we're looking at. It's just what you said. A gate, a barrier across the mouth of the branch creek. Now we know what we're looking for. You're doggone, too. A rope or hinge to heist that wall up, or swing a rope. Right. Now, how about a vine? Here's one. Good stock grape. Hear that? Oh, music to the easiest. Give her another yank. Here she comes. And another creek behind her. Wow. They'll keep it quiet. You see anybody? Marius? I guess Morales was the only guard. Let's get a move on before he comes back. Trail along the creek edge, and just see it in the twilight. Well, that'll be leads to the hideout. Oh, boy. Feels good to get my toes out of this much. Yeah. We can make time on a dry trail, too. Poor little old Julie. You know, the way I feel a real thorough killing wouldn't do Morales a speck of harm. Yeah, we haven't played a too smart skip. And the dummy let out that yell we ought to have known we were close to home. Yeah, but Julius said he was just talking to himself. Not that time he wasn't. He was signaling Morales. Hey, look. There's our boat. Yeah. And the dummies. Skip, see what I see? The tarpaulin up in the bar was been jerked back. Well, what do you know? Can goods. Enough for an army. Enough to keep the gang living in high for a few days anyway. So that's what the gorilla man was up to, running in supplies. Yeah, they had to have a pipeline to make it snappy, Skip. We've got to get off this trail where dummies do back to unload. Sure wouldn't be no healthy place to get trapped, would it? They look ahead. The path's just a black tunnel chopped through the wood. I wish we had a flashlight. Yeah, we might take to the woods, but we'd make a noise like a herd of elephants. Now come on, and keep it quiet. Yeah. Can't be I sure wish I know what this is all about. Personally, I'm up to my armpits and pure ignorance. I could ask a few questions myself. For instance, why Julius' father-in-law sent her into danger instead of coming himself? Right on the nose. And why she clammed up on us back on the boat. Oh, that's easy. She's scared. You mean her husband's old man? He might be out on a limb? Yeah, or the husband himself. For all we know, the kidnappings are blind. He could be up to his neck in this dirty work. It could be for a fact. Hey. Huh? Something's wrong with my ears. What's that? Well, I keep thinking I hear birds. There ain't no birds. Well, sure it's birds. But there ain't no birds. Birds don't come in here. Well, not in the jungle itself. It's too dark and tangled. Yeah, there must be a clearing ahead. Hey, then, we're there. Yeah, just about. There seems to be a sharp turn in that tunnel just ahead. And here we go. Skip. Sunlight. Well, for crying out loud. Man, that's the prettiest sight I've... Oh, doggone it. Now, I can't see a thing. My eyes are crying like babies. Yeah, I'm blind too. Coming out of the swamp dark into bright light. Yeah, they're clear in a second. Hey, I thought she was in front of me. I am. Well, who's behind you? Hey, look out! Grab it! Let go of Skip. Let go and tell your eyes. What the blue places? No, no, Captain. Do not move. Oh, another one, eh? Who are you? Your friend is in no immediate danger. A little uncomfortable, perhaps, with his head bent so across the dummy's arm. An interesting physical specimen, the dummy. Magnificent development. A little more pressure upon your friend's head. Tell him to release, Skip. Ah. You are prepared to be amenable. Very excellent. What do you want? No. But impatient. A regrettable characteristic of Americans. To the scientific mind, patience is essential. I want only a little cooperation. A revolver in your hand. If you will drop it on the ground. All right. No false move. You will recall that I placed two rifle shots at your feet. Your eyes are clearing. Yes. You can see now. Yeah. Then you will observe how the bullets kicked loose dirt over your boots. For a physician like me, it would be a simple matter to choose for a target that exact portion of the anatomy. You can save the lecture. There's the gun. Not tell your ape to lay off Skip. An ape? Mm-hmm. You are observing. I myself have compared him to the anthropoids. Dummy, release the man. Remove his weapon. All right, fella. All right, console. Do not be alarmed. This sensation will pass now that the breathing passages are no longer obstructed. That's real kind of you, mister. Doctor, my friend. Doctor Eckhart. Why not make it hair doctor? Exactly so. That would be more correct. An uninvited guest in our country. That is due to the stupidity of your people. But I'm here and I have been of service. Perhaps later, I shall be still of greater service. But enough of this. You will step forward out of the trail. Oh, that dummy. He never could have tucked me in a fair fight. An interesting speculation. Perhaps we may arrange a little contest between you and him. We have so few amusements here. Gentlemen, how do you like our little home? It ain't so little. As you say. You observed a large living cabin. The one over there, the small cabin, is for, shall we say, storage. The wide protecting strip of marsh. Protecting. I should not advise you to cross it without a guard. You got Julie across there. You are concerned for her? But you need not be. She's safe with Morales. Safe with that guy? No, perhaps he is a little nervous at the moment. We have been long in the woods. But I command here. He has his orders. I shall save Mrs. Lane for a higher destiny. You're talking about yourself? Exactly. Listen, you out here, you limb from limb. You're ready to do nothing. Dummy. Why, you ugly knock and skip out from behind? And you captain. Oh. Very good. Excellent teamwork, Dummy. As I say, I am a cautious man. Our guests will not now observe our passage across the barge. Search them, Dummy. Take them to the storage cabin and tie them tight. They will make excellent specimens for my table. Tied hand and foot in a cabin in the inaccessible heart of dismal swamp, Captain Friday and Skip are powerless to save the girl Julie. The second episode of It's Dismal to Die comes to you next week at the same time. You are listening to Adventures by Morse.