 And the producer of radio's outstanding theatre of thrills, the master of mystery and adventure, William M. Robeson. There's a lot of truth in the old saw about the loss of a horseshoe nail resulting in the loss of a kingdom. The tiniest detail can often lead to quite extraordinary results, particularly if the detail is observed by a clever con man with sufficient larceny in his soul. A man like the amazing Dr. Alcazar, who parlayed a piece of string into a small fortune. Listen, listen then, as Mr. Vincent Price stars in the green and gold string, which begins exactly one minute from now. It is a mile, mile, cigarette, it's got the freshest, cleanest, hey, yes, it is a mile, it is a mile, it is a mile, cigarette, it's got the freshest, cleanest, hey, yes, it is the mile, it is a mile, cigarette, it is a mile, it is a mile, cigarette, it is a mile, Mr. Vincent Price in The Green and Gold Spring, a tale well-calculated to keep you in suspense. Hey-ya, hey-ya, step this way, ladies and gentlemen, learn what the future holds for you. As Dr. Alcazar caravoy and expo- That don't-said voice belongs to Abbey, my good and devoted assistant who stands outside my studio here in Coney Island and drums up business. Of course, I wrote his field, and did it pay off one evening last fall. Thank you, kindly. Good evening, sir. Are you Dr. Alcazar? Alcazar, indeed I am, madam, at your service. I'd like a reading if you don't mind. Age 35 to 40, cheaper, expensive suit. Too tight and too short, not hers. A hand-me-down accent, British cockney. Nervous. Something on her mind, possibly a housekeeper or a lady's name. I showed it to the chair reserved for customers. It's under the mirror. Ah, they're handy mirrors. Spooky in here, I did with all these black curtains. Black velvet, madam, to minimize all distractions. Yet your crystal ball? Yes, madam, the mysterious orb in which I see revealed the future as well as the past. But in your case, I think it won't be needed. Your psychic projection is extremely strong. Even now, I can clearly sense that- That what? That you're deeply troubled. Well, in a way, I am all upset, Lois. But, you see, sir, it's a private matter, and- Of course, of course. May I suggest that you relax as much as possible? Any undue tension disturbs and obfuscates your aura. And in order to obtain closer contact with your psyche, I'd like to hold some personal possession. Oh, no, no, no, not your brooch. No personal jewelry. Its intrinsically counteractive density tends to abdumbrate the necessary metacytic radiation. It does? Oh, yes, yes. Perhaps something in your purse, hm? Oh, please. That's another gambit in the little game I play. By leaning back and half-closing my eyes, I can watch the mirror and see the contents of an open purse. In hers, I saw a roll of stamps, a shabby wallet, a half-eaten candy bar, a postmarked envelope addressed to Miss Lily, Lily, something or other, a folded, neatly folded sheet of tissue paper, violet-colored, wrapped around the lengths of gift-wrapping cord into woven strands of green and gold, hairpin, a compact- Well, did you? Your compact. Excellent, excellent. Now, to sense the vibrations. Your name. Your name. You are named for a flower. Yes, Lily. Well, I never... You have a fondness for candy, a sweet tooth. Oh, fucking no, I did awful... Your present life is bound up with a person of great wealth. I think a woman. It's the truth, everywhere. You have a highly sensitive, Anima, and are therefore a most sympathetic subject. You are an excellent seamstress and... And that, madam, concludes the general reading. Oh, he's detailed. Well, I could go deeper, much deeper, with a special delineation for an additional 50 cents. Shall I continue? All right, I... I guess you might as well... Excellent, excellent. Now, if you'll state your problem briefly. Oh, do I have to? I should take you to already know. I see, madam, finds it necessary to test me further. Very well. Oh, now, I seem to see paper, tissue paper, what strange color. Almost orchid. Orchid colored paper and something else. Two colors interwoven, green and gold, green and gold. Have I mentioned something which frightens you? Oh, yes. Oh, well, now you should have sufficient proof of my powers. And since my time is limited, I suggest you tell me the rest of the details. Well, it's about my miss... my sister. My sister and her husband. You see, sir, I've just found out that he's deceiving her life, and I'm the only one that knows. Uh, the eternal time. Oh, no, it's nothing like that. Oh? That's why I don't rightly know what to do. The furnishing is that what he's doing to deceive her is making her happy. Now, my problem is, should I tell my sister, or should I let well enough alone? I see, I see, I see. You are entangled, madam, in the most unusual psychic web. Now, one moment, one moment. There are widely differentiated comments here. Two pairs lie before you. I see you taking one and then the other, but it makes no difference which you follow. For whatever you do, the result will be the same. And there now, I trust your mind has been set at rest, huh? You mean that all, sir? Apparently all that fate intends you to know, at least for the present. Well, if you cite that... That will be one dollar and a half. I'd forgotten all about the Marcy little woman until three days later. Abby and I were having breakfast in the diner near the subway station. I was scanning the morning paper while I half-listened to Abby's cheerful and rather witless chatter. This time last year, we was already on Miami Beach. Remember, boys, we traveled in style by playing it. And this year, it looks like we won't even scrape up enough scratch for bus fare. It sure would be a laugh if we were stuck here all winter. Oh, we made more than that. I thought her last name began with an impure wench, that thing. What you talking about? Abby, old friend, spare not. We may winter in the sun after all. How come? Look at this picture. Recall that face? Huh? No, why? Three nights ago on Friday, you ushered her into the studio. Oh, one of the sharpest, huh? So what, she's only got a paper? She got herself murdered, poor soul, that same night. Yeah? It seems she worked as a maid up in Rockland County. She took a late bus back there from New York and walking from the bus to the house where she went, where she encountered someone who strangled her. Parched off. But how does that make us any dull? Listen to this. Gloria Drews, former luminary of the New York stage, now Mrs. Clinton DeVries, today expressed great sorrow of the brutal murder of her personal maid, Lily Morton, declaring that she wanted to do everything possible to help bring the murderer to justice. Ms. Drews said she was posting a reward of $5,000. $5,000? And you know who done it? No, no, but I have a hunch. And I have an idea how, uh, and, you know, I need proper clothes, cutaways, dried trousers, for you as chauffeurs. Cap should suffice. And we need a car, limousine. A watch. How much money do you have? Four. Working capital to make money, you have to spend money. I've got about 28 bucks and some chicken feet. And I have less than five. I have it. My $250 gold pieces with them will have a fewer... Hope I ain't gonna spend them. You always said they was for good luck. Oh, so I did, Abby. And here is the good luck I've been waiting for. That afternoon, we arranged to rent a limousine, a 1938 Rolls, which I felt exactly suit as my persona. We also rented the necessary clothes, and the next day, we set out to visit Mrs. Clinton Debris's name, Gloria Drews. Uh, what's the name of the place? Leonard's Cove. You'll see the sign. Oh, gotcha. You know, I never even heard of this same Gloria Drews. Never heard of her, the greatest Juliet of our century, the fairest ornament for more than a generation? I noticed you had a look around. I'm merely to refresh my recollection. After all, she's been in retirement for more than ten years. Oh, then she couldn't be any spring chicken. A woman like Gloria Drews is ageless. But it's my guess she's on the dark side of 50. Now, look, Abby, while I'm talking to her, I wish you somehow managed to get inside the house, get acquainted with the servants. I'm sure it'll be a cinch. And what should I find out? Anything and everything. But to our main assignment is Mr. Clinton Debris. Dr. Alcazar? Is Mrs. Debris expecting you? No, unfortunately, I was only... Where is Edward? Dr. Alcazar, madam. Alcazar? I don't believe I've known... Madam, forgive me for taking this liberty, but he says it's about Miss Lily. Lily? Oh, come to the library, doctor. Thank you, thank you. I want a charming room, a perfect setting for you, Miss Drew. I beg your pardon, Mrs. Debris. Oh, don't apologize. I like it when people remember. Oh, now, what is this about Lily? If you have any information, shouldn't you have gone to the police? Oh, but I've come here seeking information from you. Perhaps you'll let me explain. Oh, please do. Won't you sit down? Thank you. Now then, you see, Mrs. Debris, I'm a metaphysician, a sort of professor of the occult. Oh. But understand, madam, I have never used my powers or knowledge for personal financial gain only in the interest of science. What has all this to do with Lily? Well, recently, about 10 days ago, I was engaged in a simple experiment with my crystal ball, in the course of which I encountered a very unusual interruption of the comic stream, a total picture of a woman in distress, a woman in dire danger, a seeking help. At the time, I made a full notation of the occurrence and then put the matter from my mind until yesterday. Yes. At the home of friends in Baltimore, I had a chance to look at a New York newspaper. Lily Morton's photograph caught my eye. And you think it was Lily you saw in the crystal? That is the question, Miss Truth, which has brought me all these miles to see you. Why, this is fascinating. Please, if you will permit me, I'd like to describe the face I saw. Yes, please go ahead. I saw a woman, part of her form, but dimly. But I saw her features very clearly. A rather plain, almost homely face. Welch, perhaps English. Colorless hair, plainly dressed. Close-set gray eyes, no makeup. A mole, here near the right ear. One gold-capped tooth, upper left incisor. Yes, it is Lily. You're quite sure? Oh, yes, there can't be any doubt. Well, Miss Truth, you have set my mind at rest. I can't thank you. Oh, you're not leaving. I mean, aren't you going to try to find out more? I don't think I understand. Well, Doctor, in these few minutes, you have convinced me completely. I'm greatly honored. And I was thinking, suppose you'll try to get in touch with Lily wherever she is, or isn't that possible? Well, of course, I have often received messages from the beyond... Then you could find out who killed her. Oh, but Madam, don't you think the police? The police, they haven't found a single clue. Oh, won't you please try? Well, it's a challenge. Though I must warn you, it's not likely to succeed. There's nothing, nothing. The crystal is entirely blank. I'm wasting your time, dear lady. Oh, please, don't give up yet. Well, as you wish. Ah, here is something. It's, it's clouding. Now the mists are clearing. A woman's figure? No. No, it's gone. All I see is a serpent. No? No, apparently it's a rope, but oddly colored. Interwoven strands of green and gold. The colors of the rope are vivid against the background of violet. It's a peculiar shade of violet. Oh, it looks... But the lights fading, the mists are closing in. Ah, sorry. The image is gone. I'm truly sorry. I think we're being misled. You mean, because what you saw hadn't anything to do with Lily. Exactly. No, it wasn't about Lily. It was about me. You? Yes, just a minute. Is this the same shade of violet? Yes. This is what I saw, the same violet tissue paper and this interwoven green and gold string. But why? It was such a powerful image. Has this any emotional meaning, Mr. DeVries? Well, yes it has. It has to do with George. So that's your husband's name. Oh, no, no. George is an old admirer of mine. Of Gloria DeVries. Enough Gloria DeVries. I've never seen him. I don't know his real name. I just call him George. And this paper and string is what he always wraps his present in. An old admirer who sends you presents is most romantic. Isn't it? There's no note with his gift. No address, nothing. Except in the very first one. That was nearly two years ago. He enclosed an old theatre program from the green and the gold. Ah, the green and the gold. Oh, remember. Oh, yes, I saw you in that. I'll never forget it. Well, that's how I know he's an admirer. You don't know what it means to an old actress doctor. To be remembered. Ah, yes, yes. What sort of gifts does he send? Oh, books. Perfume. Ardler and McNag. No candy? Oh, yes. Every third of force package. Heavenly liqueur chocolate. Ah, yes. I'm sure they're delicious. But all this is keeping us from poor Lily. Won't you try again? No, not just now. I'm afraid it would be useless now, Mrs. DeVries. If you like, I'll resume my efforts tonight. Alone. In a moment, we continue with... Suspense. Do you like surprises? Do you like fun? And do you like to meet famous personalities? Then you're sure to like the Amos and Andy Music Hall. The Amos and Andy Music Hall, located in the grand ballroom of the lodge of the Mystic Knights of the Sea, is presided over by three of your favorites. The Kingfish, Amos and Andy. Every weekday evening, Monday through Friday, over most of the same CBS radio stations, they play host to you and to one or more of the top stars in show business who's a featured surprise guest. People like Jack Benny, Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy, Frank Sinatra, Doris Day, Judy Garland, Tony Martin, and lots of other exciting big name stars drop in to join the fun, the variety and the music at the Amos and Andy Music Hall. Why don't you drop in too? Remember the Amos and Andy Music Hall comes to you every weekday evening, Monday through Friday, over most of the same CBS radio stations. It's a treat for all the family. Now we continue with the green and gold string starring Mr. Vincent Price. A tale well calculated to keep you in. Suspense. It was nearly six when Abby and I left the debris house and headed for a little restaurant in Nyack where the shadow used to be excellent. It still is. And now that you've satisfied the inner man, Abby, could I have a report? Well, I found out a lot about this debris's guy from the servants, but I don't know if it helps. He's around 40 to 45. considerably younger than his wife. Yeah, he's been married to her about five years. They rub along okay, but no hard drugs, at least not with him. But he likes polo ponies and sailboats, and she's got the both. Very good, Abby. Now one or two questions. Oh, that ain't funny. One shot. Now, as the set point was wasted whereabouts, he's got his boat moored somewhere out on Long Island Sound. It seems he's got a beach house out there, and that's where he went morning of the day that slowly was killed. And he's still there? Yeah, but he's due home tomorrow. Time for dinner. Now, make with your questions. Abby, I haven't won. You've really covered the ground. I'm proud of you. Well, that's your time, brother. Seeing as we've spent nearly our last dime hoping to horn in on that five grand reward, I think you ought to fill me in. My pleasure, Abby. First, I know who killed Lily. So much for the corruption, Collette. Not so fast. I found out something else. The same killer is planning to kill again, I think soon. Lily was murdered only because of something she found out. Yeah, what? This man, this killer has been sending presents to Mrs. DeVries. Books, perfume, candy. Well, it's my guess that someday soon the candy will be the death of her. And Lily watched his found out who he is. Indubitably. And since the pain you're talking about is the DeVries' pain, then I suppose you think... Right. The guy is the DeVries' guy. Well, it dark it couldn't be he was out on long hours. Well, Abby, he was hiding, waiting for Lily Morton. Look, it was easy. He started out in the morning ostensibly for Long Island, but instead he hid his car and lay low the whole day. He knew the shortcut Lily always took from the bus stop through the back of the estate. And that's where he killed her. Then he drove off to the beach house where he was supposed to have been all day. And I suppose you got all that from your crystal ball. No, no, from Lily Morton a few hours before she was killed. No way, you're raged and done. I told you I knew one thing the police don't know. Yeah, but with this Clint, you said yourself you got no proof and though he ain't doing no talking now. Dear Abby, to the point, you're getting better and better. So what do we do? Becker's a park base, sit around getting corns, waiting for Mr. Clint George to send his frow of popsicle full of strict time. I don't think we'd have very long to wait. I think it's about ready to strike, but since our funds will only see it through another day at the most. You said a mouthful there. It's up to us to smoke him out. And I have an idea just how to do it. Oh, good afternoon, Dr. Alcazar. Forgive me for bothering you at this time, dear lady, just when your husband's returned. Why, that's wrong. Well, I have, shall we say, certain sources of information. You found out something? Yes, something startling, almost unbelievable, but I must check it further before... Oh, but I... I'd rather not. Not on the telephone. Oh, then you come to dinner, please. Oh, no, no, no, that would be imposing. Nonsense, I've chosen. Indeed. I warn you. Sure, for a conure, doctor? Well, yes, yes. Thank you, Mr. DeVries. Oh, now, Doctor, do tell me what's happened. I told Clinton about your seeing Lily in the crystal and about the paper and strings. Ah, that string, that green and gold string. Curious, you must admit, Mr. DeVries. Very curious. Indeed, yes. And if I sounded excited when I phoned, I was. You see, Mr. DeVries, I've been at work on our problem and suddenly I saw, or rather I sensed, that the tissue paper and the green and gold string were not part of your psychic stream. Who then? Lily Morton. Lily? But why? What could George mean to Lily? I believe he killed her. George? Why, that is the most preposterous idea. Ah, are you sure? To be frank, no, but I'm convinced that one more evocation of the psych-mantic waves will bring confirmation or the reverse. Oh, Doctor, then couldn't you do it here tonight? Well, I could try, unless Mr. DeVries rejects. No, go ahead. Matter of fact, I'd like to sit in. Excellent. I was helping you would. Is the room dark enough? Quite, thank you. What nonsense. Clinton, don't fidget. Ah, here is something. It's clouding. Yes. I can see the green and gold serpent on the violet background, and now I see a man. Is it George? I don't know. I can only see his back, his shoulders shake, and he is laughing and evil and level and glass. George has done nothing evil. He's only... The picture is changing. Now I see this room. It is morning, and there is a package on the desk, wrapped in violet paper. A woman enters. It's you, Gloria. You see the package, and you're delighted. Be careful, Gloria. You think this is a gift sent with love, but it is sent only to lull you into a false sense of security. Why? Why? Because one day, some day, a package will come that will spell your death. Clinton, it's another room now, and Lily Morton is there. She is staring in amazement at something she has found, a ball of green and gold string, and a roll of violet tissue paper, and finding them has shown her the identity of George. She knew and never told me. Lily is troubled by her knowledge. She doesn't know what to do. She takes a sheet of the paper, a little coil of the string, and she is gone. And now the image of George again. I cannot see his face, but he is staring after Lily. He knows she has discovered it. And he knows she might tell her. Perhaps. But now we are in a place of shadow. George is lurking there, waiting. He hears Lily's footsteps. He tenses. He leaps that her and seizes her by the throat. Oh! Now she is motionless, lifeless. Takes something from it with his gloved hand. The paper and the string. He is feeling away. If only, only I could see his face. Try. You must try. Wait. At last. At last he is turning. We are going to see his face. That's enough. Say where you are, both of you. Don't move. Clinton. You killed Lily. And you too, if you're not quiet. Your plan with the candy might have worked, Mr. DeVries. With a gun you don't have a chance. Shut up. Gloria, open the safe and take out the money you put there this morning. Come on. Move. Oh! All right. Okay, DeVries. That'll do. Drop the gun. What? Oh! Oh! I'm sorry, lady, but it was him or me. Him or all of it. That was very terrifying. Completely to the point. You've really got a grasp for this kind of work. Evie! Evie! Yeah, boss? Look what just arrived in the mail. The roast. Oh, the same. Gloria's roast. Has she sent us the five Gs? Take a look. Ten. Ten Gs. Doc, what are we going to do? Well, what do you suggest? Well, I don't know. We could let it and quit each of us do what we want. Evie, you'd let money break up our winning combination. Not me, Doc. Good. Then let's use our hard-gotten gains to set you and me up in business. Business? What kind of business? Alcazar Associates, private investigators. With you doing the legwork and me reading the crystal ball, we're as pinched to make a million. In which Vincent Price starred in The Green and Gold Spring, adapted by Sylvia Richards from a story by Philip McDonald and produced and directed by William Enrobson. Listen. Listen again next week, when we return with Miss Nancy Kelly in Trial by Jury, another tale well-calculated to keep you in sus. Suspense. Supporting Mr. Price and The Green and Gold String were Jeanette Nolan, Irene Tedril, Luke Krugman, Byron Kane, and Ben White. Ever hear of The Vandals? That group of savages who bucketed around over most of Europe destroying everything that was beautiful? According to history, they lived and did their damage over 1,400 years ago. But sometimes, one wonders if The Vandals really died out. Certainly, there's a group roaming America, especially during the Outdoor Month, that acts like The Vandals of Olds. You've seen their work. They're the ones who make sure our picnic spots and roadsides are littered with sandwich wrappings, pop bottles, and beer cans. It's carelessness, not viciousness, that prompts their destructive behavior. Could be that you yourself have been careless in that fashion once or twice. Now, make a vow against it. Do your part to help keep America beautiful. You hear America's favorite shows on the CBS Radio Network.