 Yes, it's another case for that most famous of all man hunters. The detective whose ability at solving crime is unequaled in the history of detective fiction. Nick Carter, master detective. Presented by the three great Linux home brightness. Linux clear glass varnish. Linux cream polish. And Linux self-polishing wax. Created by ACME. America's great producer of fine ACME quality paints. Today's curious adventure. Death goes to the post. For Nick Carter and the mystery of the Unlucky Jockey. In just a moment, we'll hear how Nick Carter was able to solve the mystery of what happened to the Unlucky Jockey and why he failed to win the big race. But now, here's a suggestion for you. It doesn't take folks long to learn what's worthwhile. That's why millions of wise American homemakers have discovered Chemtone, the miracle wall finish. That's why they're now discovering the new magic for woodwork floors and furniture. The three great Linux home brightness. Linux clear glass varnish to give lustrous longer lasting protection to every wood and linoleum surface. Linux cream polish to renew the sleek gleaming beauty of fine furniture. And Linux self-polishing wax to lend rich satiny loveliness to any floor. Wood, linoleum, or tile. Take the modern shortcut to new home beauty with the three great Linux home brightness. You'll find them all at your hardware, paint, or department store. Your headquarters also for Chemtone, the miracle wall finish. And now for today's mysterious adventure with Nick Carter. As today's story opens, it's near the end of the last racing season in World City. Nick and Patsy are walking back to Nick's office when Nick suddenly sees his Patsy's arm and says, Hold it, Patsy. What's about a Nick? That woman coming out of the pawn shop. Looks familiar, but I can't place her. She's a good-looking woman. Although if that blonde hair of hers is natural, I'm a Chinese grandmother. She doesn't seem to be connected to the crime in any way, yet. And look who's trailing her. Benny Retzel. I know him right enough. He's a private cop for the Mutual Protective Agency, isn't he? Yes, and they're a choice outfit not to get mixed up with. Their slogan is, you marry them and we trail them. Well, I'll let them go. How do we care who's getting married or divorced? You can just mind our own business and go on. Wait a minute, I'm going in the pawn shop. I want to ask a few questions. But why? What's it to us? Probably nothing. Just curious to know who that woman was. Go ahead, make a fool of yourself. She's probably nobody. Well, Mr. Carter, yes. Oh, so it's you, Al. Yeah, I swear to you, though, I ain't guilty. What's this you're not guilty of? Whatever you say I don't, I ain't. You probably have that, but that's not why I'm here. Who was that good-looking blonde that just went out of here? Uh-oh. I shouldn't know her, but I don't. Eh, such a one she is. The wife of Colonel Pembert, no less. Colonel Pembert? The big horse race man? Yeah, that's the one. And you know, if I was a betting man, Carter, which I ain't, I'd see if the Colonel had a horse running at the track this afternoon, and I'd put a bet down on him. On the Colonel or the horse? Such a question. The Colonel, he could have been a horse race, maybe? Go on, Al, what's the story? It's just a hunch, that's all. But when a dame asks me to give her $3,000 on a string of pearls worth maybe $10,000, and swear she'll redeem them in 24 hours, and if she's married to a string of fast horses, well, you can make your own guess. And it would still be a guess. Take me to the races, Nick. Why should I? I want to win some money by betting on the Colonel's horse. You know the Colonel, don't you? Oh, yes, I know him slightly, but I hardly think that's... Oh, come on, Nick, it'll be fun out there anyway. I love horses. All right, but don't expect me to pay your betting losses. You're strictly on your own out there. Oh, it's always a thrill to me to be in the paddock, where you can see the horses close to. Gosh, there's such beautiful things. You certainly are. Oh, there's the Colonel in his party. Let's stroll over there. Oh, there's his wife, too. Yeah, she looks more interested in the young man beside her than she does in the Colonel. Maybe she is. He's much better looking, not so old either. Hello, Colonel Pembert, how are you? Oh, hello, Carter. Fine, thanks. I believe you know my wife. I don't, but I'm happy to. Thanks to Mr. Carter. This is Miss Bowen. How do you know? Oh, what a beautiful horse. Is that yours, Colonel? Yes, Miss Bowen. That's Speed Queen, the winner of the next race. How do you know that, Colonel? Because she's ready. She'll run the legs off every other horse in the race. Better put something down on her. I'll believe a horse is really going to win when I see her trainer putting up some of his own money. Well, you'd see that right now, except that I'd never allow my employees to bid on any race in which we have an entry. That right, dear son? That's right. It's only that rule of yours that's keeping me from picking up a fortune on this race. Well, I still say I'll believe it when I see it. The end of the race is the time to tell how good Speed Queen really is. Shall we go, Betsy? Right to the bedding window. I want to put $2 down on Speed Queen. She's too beautiful to lose a race. Far back on the bunch, if I can see straight from here. That doesn't mean a thing, Nick. You know it. Nothing, except that you're probably out $2. I am not. I'm going to vote. Say, she is a that. But now things seem to be changing. Speed... He's certainly showing her heels. Do you suppose he happened to Speed Queen's jacket? We may never know, Betsy. He wasn't dead when he fell off his horse. The horse is coming up behind him, trampled him to death. Do you suppose he had heart failure? Maybe. And maybe not. When a horse that isn't a favorite suddenly comes up from behind to take the lead away from the favorite, and then something happens that's the favorite win after all. I'm just naturally a little suspicious. Oh, hiya, Nick. Oh, hiya, Tim. You having anything on this race? Oh, Betsy had $2 on Speed Queen, but she saw what happened. She must have gotten the same tip I did. Speed Queen was all set to win, but the big money didn't know it. I was so sure the tip was good that I put $100 on her nose. Well, here's one ticket I'll never cash in on. Oh, wait a minute. Wait a minute. Don't tear up that ticket. If you don't want it, give it to me, will you? Oh, you want a souvenir? Sure. You're welcome to it and anything you can collect on it. Thanks. You know, Speed Queen had one that would be worth $1,300. Now it's just waste paper. Perhaps you're right, Tim, but I have a hunch. Come on, Betsy. Let's stroll down to the payoff window. Look who's at the $100 window, Pinky Deems. Never had over $5 on a race in his life. Nick, would you look at the handful of tickets he has? If those are all winners, there must be five or $6,000 there. Easily that much. No question about it, Betsy. Somebody knew something was going to happen and he was going to make Sunny Boy the winner. And for the sake of the poor dead jockey and Speed Queen, I'm going to find out what it was that did happen. Wait a minute. I'll be right back. Okay, Nick. Pinky, Pinky Deems. Oh, you got it. You give a guy the jumps grabbing at him that way. I didn't think you touts ever believed in your own tips, Pinky. Not enough to bet all that money on him. You got me wrong, Connor. I didn't have nothing on this race. It was just hanging around. I only got bus fare back to town. Pinky, I hold a $100 ticket on Speed Queen. I hate to be a sucker. Sucker? Oh, yeah, yeah. Jill was tough about the jackpaw and dead just when he was winning like that, yeah. But lucky for those betting on Sunny Boy. Yeah, yeah. Look, Connor, I gotta go see a guy. At 13 to 1, the ticket I have is worth $1,300. I'm keeping that ticket. Might be a smart idea for somebody to buy it for me. Huh? I'll be in my office until four o'clock. After four, we'll be too late. Hey, I don't know what you're talking about. Just pass the word along. That's all. All right, Patsy. That's enough racing for one day. Let's get back to the office. I really think you're going to hear from somebody before four o'clock, Nick. It's almost that now. We have callers, Patsy. I'll get it. Yeah? OK, thanks very much. It's not a call, Nick. It's a package. Package? What did I tell you? What is it, Nick? Look. Somebody's here. Oh, Nick, how horrible. There's a note. It says, Pinky, listen too hard. He won't hear you the next time you talk too much, if you do. So I was right. Was murder. You mean C. Queen's jockey? Exactly. Give me the phone. Nick, I don't understand. You will. Put Tim Rourke on. Just a minute. What are you going to do? Oh, Tim Rourke speaking. Tim, this is Nick Carter. Oh, hello, Nick. What's on your mind? You got a hot special for your final edition. Yeah, what is it? Quote me this way. The death of Speed Queen's jockey in the third race this afternoon was not accidental. What? It was murder. Now, wait a minute, Nick. He is sure you're right. Run it just that way and quote me. Then you'll be in the clear. Well, I can't. Yes, you can. I've never given you a bum steer yet, have I? No, but I... Thanks, Tim. So long. That ought to start something. Maybe somebody was about to buy that $100 ticket for me yet. Nick, you can't mean you're trying to blackmail somebody into paying you $1,500 for not invetigating. Oh, you know me better than that, that's it. I hope somebody will try to pay me the money so I can get a lead on where to look for the jockey's murderer because it was murder and no mistake. We've never known Nick to be wrong when he finally makes up his mind, but this looks like pretty slim evidence on which to make a charge of murder. Is Nick on the right track or is he sticking his neck out looking for trouble? Can he prove the charge that he's just made and how will he go about it? We'll see in just a moment. If you're a homemaker, you have every reason to take pride in a home that fairly gleams with the evidence of careful attention. And every wood and linoleum surface in your home will gleam when you use Linux Clear Gloss Varnish because Linux Clear Gloss lends a lustrous finish that keeps its beauty a long, long time. It lessens your housework amazingly too for it's so easy to keep clean. Dirt stays on the surface where you can wipe it away in a jiffy and Linux Clear Gloss is so simple to apply. You just brush it on and it dries without brush marks to an elastic transparent finish that wears and wears a finish which protects every surface to which it's applied. 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One of the bodies was the Jockey in the third race this afternoon. What's your report on him? Unavoidable accident it was. Doc says it was a heart attack and the other horses was bunched so close they couldn't get out of his way when he fell off. Better change that to lead poisoning, Riley. Lead poisoning? You're nuts. Can you prove it? No, not yet. But the Doc didn't mention any bullet wounds. Naturally not. How could he with the Jockey's head all smashed up? Another thing, a small-time tout by the name of Pinky Deems won't be doing any more touting from now on. Why not? He's dead, murdered. If you don't believe me, put out a pickup order on him and see if any of your boys can find him. Do you know anything, Nick, or is this all guesswork? Two murders in the last couple of hours, Riley, and I may be the third. Yeah, come in. Lieutenant Riley, I'm mad and I want you... Hi, hello, Colonel Pembo. Is something bothering you? Oh, it's you. Yes, you're bothering me. Why do you have to shoot off your big mouth with the papers the way you did? You approve of murder, Colonel? No, I don't. I don't approve of rumors of murder, either. I demand that you retract your accusations or produce some concrete proof to back them up. I didn't accuse you of anything, Colonel. I didn't say you did. With the reflection on my stable and on the glorious sport of her red racing. That's really all your fault, you know. My fault? Yes. You recommended Speed Queen so highly that I watched the race much more closely than usual. And what I saw led me to make the statement you see there in the paper. You say the death of my Jockey was murder? I do. Maybe. But I'm going to keep on saying it's murder until someone does something about it. But, Nicky, you must have something to back up this claim of yours. I have, but none of it's evidence yet. For one thing, don't forget that with Speed Queen out of the way, Sunny Boy won that race at very attractive odds. John Gainley, Sunny Boy's owner, made a sweet out of money in the deal. John Gainley's a crafty old bird, but he wouldn't murder my Jockey. Colonel Pembo, before I go any further with this, I'd like to talk to your trainer. Deerson, is it? Deerson is no longer my trainer. I fired him a couple of hours ago. Fired him? Why? Well, you saw the race, you saw the way Speed Queen's Jockey pulled wide on the turn, failed to take the fence. Probably just Mr. Skewer, that's all. My trainers are responsible for all such things. I will not tolerate such blunders. That's a little thin, Colonel. Are you sure you didn't use that as an excuse to get rid of Deerson? I'll see you here, Carter. I don't have... Come in, come in. Lieutenant Riding, I demand that you... Oh, hello, Pembert. Are you responsible for this? This stuff in the paper? I am not what makes you think I'd do a thing like that. It sounds like one of your tricks. It's entirely my idea, Mr. Gainley. Oh, well, what's your gripe? Do you have two butts on Speed Queen's nose? My gripe, Mr. Gainley, is that a jockey who was supporting his mother and a little sister who was killed so somebody could make money. And I don't like things like that. Also, I have a $100 ticket on Speed Queen's nose. That isn't worth anything now. Oh, blackmail, I get it. Just because my horse was a better horse than Pembert's, you kick when he wins. Your horse was beaten to a standstill when a rifle bullet gave him his chance to win. If you think you're scaring me... Mr. Gainley, I'm only trying to do one thing. I want to know who killed Speed Queen's jockey and why. I was there this afternoon. I saw nothing to indicate murder. Few men have ever seen a rifle bullet, actually, at worst. But the medical report caught it. A steel-jacketed bullet won't leave much evidence of his passage in a skull that smashed a few seconds later by a dozen iron-shard hoops. Well, Raleigh, you got enough to start on. Dressnika, I don't see where to begin. There's no evidence. Okay. Don't blame me if the commissioner gets on the phone and starts asking questions. But, Nick, I... Coming, Colonel Pembert. Just a minute. I want to talk to Lieutenant Racky a moment. Come on, Colonel. I want to talk to you anyway, privately. Why, of course, Mr. Gainley. I'll be seeing you, Raleigh. So long, Nick. So long, Colonel. Now, if you'll step in my car with me for a minute, we can talk quietly. All right. But I don't see what you and I have to talk about. It won't take but a minute. Now, all right, Carter. Watch your game. I told you that upstairs. I don't believe you. You're sore because you failed to win your bet on Speed Queen. You don't really care for the jockey who was killed. You're welcome to think anything you like, Mr. Gainley. You think if you talk long enough and loudly enough, somebody's going to pay you to shut up. Go on. Unfortunately for me, your accusation points directly at me. As the owner of the winning horse, I profited by the jockey's death. But I certainly didn't murder him. No one has accused you of murder yet? But they will. There'll be fingers pointed at me. There'll be investigations by the Racing Commission. How much was the ticket you have on that race? $100. A $13.01 that's, uh, $1300. Here you are. I trust we understand each other now. I understand that you've just given me $1300. And I also understand that a jockey was killed in cold blood. But Carter, you! I said we had nothing to talk about, Mr. Gainley, and I was right. So long. You are, Nick. Mrs. Pembert's been waiting over an hour to see you. Hello, Mrs. Pembert. What's on your mind? Could I speak to you alone? Whatever you can tell me, you can tell Patsy. We work together. Well, all right. Mr. Carter, I know everything. My husband told me this afternoon that you've been spying on me. Yes? Colonel Pembert was in a dreadful temper. He fired Dick, Mr. Deason. And then told me about having you follow me. So that's why he fired Deason? Yes. Oh, I don't know what came over me. I really love the Colonel, but Dick, Mr. Deason, swept me off my feet. I guess I'm just weak. Why have you come here now? I must know, Mr. Carter. Have you told the Colonel that I pawned my necklace this morning? Why is that important? If the Colonel knew that I pawned my pearls and gave the money to Dick to bet on Speed Queen, then he must be the one behind the jockey's murder. He wanted to be sure that Dick would lose, because if he won, I was planning to run away with him on the winnings we'd make. Are you saying that your husband killed the jockey so you and Deason couldn't run away together? But it must be that. Must love me very much. I thought he didn't care. Did the Colonel tell you I'd been following you, spying on you? We said he'd hired a private detective to report everything I did. Mrs. Pembert, I'm a private detective, but I wouldn't touch one of those divorce investigations if I starved to death. Then these things I've told you, you didn't know them? Not positively. If you'd give me some valuable information, thank you. I'd guessed at most of it that had no confirmation. Nicholas Carter's all this. Mr. Carter's busy just now. May I take a message for him? Very well, I'll tell him. Goodbye. Well, that was short and sweet. What was it? It was Colonel Pembert. Colonel Pembert? Yes, he said to tell you, Nick, that he was sending you $1,300 by messenger. He said you'd know what he meant. So the Colonel's decided that he can't ignore my charges, and he wants me to drop them. Doesn't that prove what I just said, Mr. Carter? I don't know. Does it? He must be behind it. Oh, the poor man. I must go to him at once. You better not tell him you were here when his message came. Oh, I won't. Goodbye, Mr. Carter. Fancy, get me the mutual protective agency. Joe Brown. OK. Maybe it's not blackmail, Nick, but it's certainly producing results. Originally, I'd let it be known that I had lost $100 on Speed Queen just to see what reaction I'd stir up. I wanted to get a lead on the killer. And now the money comes in by itself. Well, we'll give it to the Red Cross. There's no better use for any money than that. Hello? Mr. Joe Brown, please. Wish I had more to give them. Just a minute. Nick Carter calling. Thanks, Betsy. Hello, Joe. Have you finished that job for Colonel Pembert yet? What job? On his wife, his wife and Dick Derson. Oh, yeah. Just delivered the final report. Why? If you're finished with it, you won't mind giving me Derson's address, will you? You moved from his old place recently, I find, and left no forwarding address. Just a minute. 47 East Willow Road. You know, the Colonel bounced it just a little while ago. Yes, I know. 47 East Willow Road. Thanks, Joe. Do as much for you someday. So long. What makes you think Colonel Pembert's train has Nick's stuff in his neck? How could he get in on it? He has some information I want. That's all, for now. So you better drive me out to 47 East Willow Road, and fast. Mr. Derson, he's left already. Any idea where he's gone? No, he packed his stuff and went out. Expressman's coming for his stuff in a few minutes now. He's meeting him at the station. This is stuff here? Yes, and three bags and a trunk. Mind if I look at them? Suit yourself. It's a new trunk, Nick. Yes. The bags look quite new, too. I wonder if there are any tags. Here's a tag on the trunk. William Stewart, 711 Fourth Street, Evansville, Indiana. Yes. A new trunk. And yet... Well, what is it, Nick? Come on, Fancy. Let's meet Derson at the station. See this headline, Derson? Huh? Well, it's you. I said, have you seen the headlines? It says, Speed Queen's Jockey was murdered. Who said so? I do. What do you know about it? Practically everything. How come you know so much? I get around. And I keep my eyes and ears open. For instance, I know that there's some connection between you and a certain William Stewart of Evansville, Indiana. Well, what are you talking about? The tag on your trunk. Your nice new trunk. The trunk? With the blood stains on it. I... I don't give your hands in sight, Derson. If you don't, I'll shoot first. That's better. Now, suppose we forget about taking the train and calling Lieutenant Riley instead. He thinks I'm nuts. But when you tell him what you know, he'll find out I was right all along. Ma'am, you didn't ask us here just to talk about the weather? Very well, now that Mr. Gainley's here, let's get on with it. You've each paid me $1,300 to hush up the investigation into the death of Speed Queen's jockey. You thought I was blackmailing you. But if you'd known me better, you'd have known I can't be bribed. I took the money and I'm turning it over to the Red Cross. But I kept on looking around, and now I have the whole story. Well, if you've got the answer to this business, you can turn my money over to the Red Cross and welcome, and I'll put as much more with it. And that goes for me, Carter, now. Now, what is the story? Briefly, it's this. Mrs. Pembert pawned her necklace and gave the $3,000 to Derson, to bet on Speed Queen. He thought Derson was in love with her, but he wasn't. He just wanted her money. So he bet the money on Sunny Boy to win, and arranged for having Speed Queen's jockey shot at the turn if Speed Queen took the lead. Pinky Deems put the bets down for him and collected his winnings. But I saw Pinky do it, and I spoke to him. I told him I should expect some action by four o'clock. Instead of what I expected, I got Pinky's ear as a warning to lay off. And I suppose that when I paid you that $1,300, you thought I was behind it. No, Gainly, I knew that you paid me to keep the scandal out of the papers if possible. You didn't want racing to get a black eye. Yes, and it was it. And you, Colonel Pembert, you paid me $1,300 to keep your wife from learning what a fool she'd been, didn't you? Yes, I knew she'd made a fool of herself over Derson, and I wanted to protect her. I love her. And she loves you, Colonel. I know that. Can you prove any of this, Carter? Not much of it, unless Derson confesses, which I feel sure he'll do. So why should he confess, Nick? If you can't prove anything on him. Because there's one thing we can hang on him, fairly and squarely. What's that? Pinky's death. If you were to look in the trunk which Derson just bought, you'd find Pinky's body minus one ear being shipped to what is undoubtedly a fake address. They were my new traces of blood in the trunk when I examined it. That alone will take care of our Mr. Derson, who seems to have double-crossed everyone he came in contact with except himself. Looks to me as if Faye had double-crossed him the way it turns out. Quite right, Betsy. Faye is a way of double-crossing those who don't obey the laws of right and wrong. In just a moment, Nick and Patsy will bring you a preview of next week's exciting case. You know that the more home-like the place you live in, the more fun you have inviting folks to share your hospitality. And these days, every home can look at shining best with very little effort when you depend on the three great Linux home brightness. Take Linux Cream Polish, for instance. One quick easy application reveals your fine furniture and all its original gleaming beauty. Renews the appearance of the wood, frees it from the dull cloudiness of dust, old polish, and finger marks. You see, Linux Cream Polish actually cleans as it polishes, cutting your job in half, saving one whole step. And when you're through, you'll find that Linux Cream Polish has left no oiliness on the surface of your furniture. It dries hard, bright, and dustless. Yes, in every way, Linux Cream Polish for fine furniture is the modern shortcut to furniture loveliness. Be sure to ask your dealer for it by name, Linux Cream Polish for fine furniture, which cleans as it polishes. You'll find all three great Linux home brightness, Linux self-polishing wax, Linux clear-glass varnish, and Linux Cream Polish at your nearest hardware, paint or department store. And now let's hear from Nick Carter himself. Well, Nick, would you care to give us a peek at the next week's story? He'd be delighted to. He's been waiting for just that very question. Thanks for the build-up, Betsy. And it's a story of an actor, an actor who for some strange reason seemed to be followed by a constant procession of almost fatal accidents. He was hurt several times, but always escaped death. What was it all about? Well, the manager of the theater, a friend of mine, called me in to find the answer to that same question. Which Nick found, of course, and just in the nick of time. Well, what do you call it, Nick? Death behind the scenes. Or the mystery of the persecuted actor. Complete details next week. So long. So long, everybody. And so long to you both, Betsy and Nick. We'll see you next week, same as usual. Next week, the same time, listen to another curious experience of Nick Carter, master detective, entitled, Death Behind the Scenes. Or Nick Carter, and the mystery of the persecuted actor. Nick Carter, master detective, is featured in Street and Smith magazines. Lawn Clark is starred as Nick with Helen Schult as Patsy. Original music is played by Lou White and the programs are written and directed by Jock McGregor. Nick Carter, master detective, is presented at this time and over these same stations each week by the three great Linux home brightners. Linux Clear Gloss Varnish, Linux Cream Polish, and Linux Self Polishing Wax, created by ACME, America's great producer of ACME fine quality paints. This is Ken Powell speaking for the thousands of Linux dealers all over America and saying, so long until next week, this is mutual.