 AutoLite and its 96,000 dealers bring you Mr. J. Carol Nash in tonight's presentation of Suspense Tonight AutoLite presents a story about buried treasure a real buried treasure and a curse a tale We call the treasure chest of Don Jose starring Mr. J. Carol Nash Hey, Hap, what are you doing? Getting a fair start with my AutoLite StayFull battery, Harlow. Ah, you bet. Fast and dependable. And best of all, that AutoLite StayFull needs water only three times a year in normal car use. And I know why, Harlow. Sure you do, Hap. It's because the AutoLite StayFull has over three times the liquid reserve of batteries without StayFull features. Right, Harlow. So friends, visit your nearby AutoLite Battery Dealer soon. He services all makes of batteries and has an AutoLite StayFull for your car if a replacement is needed. To quickly learn his location, just phone Western Union by number. And ask me, Operator 25, and I'll gladly tell you the location of your nearest AutoLite Battery Dealer. And remember, from bumper to tail light, you're always right with AutoLite. And now with the treasure chest of Don Jose and the performance of Mr. J. Carol Nash, AutoLite hopes once again to keep you in... ...South Spence. This is not a pretty story. There is blood in it, the blood of men and women. There is a curse in it and gold. But it is a funny story. It is a joke. A great joke I cannot laugh at. It is a joke on me. In matters of this sort, secrecy is of the most importance. In matters of this sort, no man is your friend. Once, I had a friend. We lived together in my little house on Black K, down in the Gulf of Mexico. But then the hurricane struck and everything was different. The wind blew for two nights and a day and when the waves piled up on the K and swept away the house, it was my friend Pedro who dragged me away unconscious and lashed me to a ring bolt on our little duck and saved my life. The next day the sun was shining again, but there was nothing left on my little island. The splintered planks that once had been the house of my father were scattered among the stripped palm trees and even the big chimney that was built by my great-grandfather was a pile of broken bricks. There was nothing but blue sea and a bright sun and heaviness in my heart. Even the chimney. What would you expect from such a wind? I am, my friend. So now at last the curse of the Gasparías has fallen on you? Curse? You speak foolishness. It was a hurricane. So it was, but a hurricane sent especially to destroy you? You cannot believe that silly tale. Did not your father perish from a bolt of lightning that struck him from a cloudless sky? The doctor said it was a heart attack. And your grandfather pulled into the sea by a giant octopus? He was washed overboard during a squall. And all because of his father Don José, the king of the pirates and the curse put upon him and all the Gasparías by the beautiful Donu Magrita who preferred death? Oh, you practically like a schoolboy you who have never been one day to school. Come, come, we will clear up this mess and build the house over again. You should know that I endured a certain local notoriety since I bore the same name and was the great-great-grandson Don José Gasparías one of the last and one of the fiercest of the pirates of the Spanish Maine. This was much less interest and concern to me than it was to my friends and acquaintances among the Florida Keys. Neither my father nor his father before him had ever profited by a single doubloon from the legendary treasure of our pirate forebears. As to the curse pronounced on Don José by the proud and virtuous Donu Magrita I gave it as little credence as I did the recurrent tales of Gasparías' buried treasure. But that was before Pedro and I set about clearing up the hurricane's mess. We were stacking rick from the demolished chimney when Pedro made a discovery. José, look at this. What is it? It seems to be a box, little iron box the size and shape of a brick. Well, let me see it. There was a lot there but it's rusted away. Hand me that pinch bar. There's a paper inside. Yes, it's very old. What does it say, José? Oh, nothing, nothing. It's just an old paper. Looks like... Looks like a poem. Yes, yes. Oh, I remember now. It is an old story rhyme from my father and then he copied it for me when I was a little boy. But what's it doing in this old iron box? Oh, I must have hidden it away once when I was playing. Well, let me go come. We shall get back to work. It was a lucky thing Pedro could not read. Nursery rhyme. That rotting piece of parchment said on Dogbodies Island you could fare worse if dare you will, Don José's curse. For there, three and thirty yards south-southeast of the Rocky Guards will find a pleasantly fulsome measure of Gasparia's earthly treasure. There could be no question about it. Here was at last a tangible clue to the hidden goal of my ancestor. It was mine if I could find it. And why should I share it with anyone, even Pedro? I was the rightful heir and I would claim it all. So that night I took our only boat and rode to the mainland. I spent two days in the public library in Key West searching the old charts before I found Dogbodies Island. A tiny sand spit near the tip of Cape Cod. I withdrew all of my money from the bank what a suit of city clothes and an airplane ticket north. And the next day I was standing on a cold, windy Massachusetts beach talking to a suspicious real estate agent. No, sir. I ain't heard this called Dogbodies Island since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. Where'd you hear it called Dogbodies Island? Well, I really don't know some friend of mine down south, maybe. Well, it's called Sprague Spit now. Ever since old Captain Sprague bought her up. Of course, she always was connected with the mainland at low tide. You can see the sandbar over yonder. Yes, yes, I see her. Now, about the house. Well, there she is. Just above that point of rocks. Just a summer cottage. Too dang-dun comfortable this time of the year. Well, it looks all right to me. I can find you something heapsight better in town. Got a nice little house just back of a gas station. Well, I'm looking for solitude. You'll find plenty of that out here. Ain't a neighbor more than a mile and a half. Is that the point of rocks? Is that the only one on the island? Yeah. Pirate's Point, folks call it hereabouts. Fellow says the buccaneers used to put in here for water in the old days. Me, I don't put much stock in them stories myself. Are you sure you want to rent this place? It is just what I'm looking for. I wish you wouldn't. It said there's a curse on it. I wish you wouldn't. It was perfect. My little rented cottage on the beach. Quiet, secluded, and yet within view of that rocky point which must be the same one then was they called the Rocky Guards. There was a stack of firewood beside the kitchen door and in a shed back of the house there was even a long-handled shovel in most fortunate circumstance since I did not want to create any suspicion in town by purchasing one. I can tell you I scarcely slept that first night so great was my eagerness to be up in the morning pace the three and thirty yards south southeast of the Rocky Guards and begin digging for my treasure. Twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two. Morning. Oh, oh, good morning. Looks like it's going to be a nice day. Yes, yes it does. Going to do some digging? I beg your pardon. I see you've got a shovel. Looks like you're going to do some digging. Oh yes, yes, clams. I'm going to dig for clams. No clams in the surf. Oh, there aren't? No, find them on the bay side. Oh, then I'll look over there. Don't dig them with a shovel. Got to use a rake. Oh, is that so? Yeah. It's too late now anyway. Tide's coming in. Another load tied at five this afternoon. No, I didn't know. I'm a stranger here. Yeah, I know. Heard you'd rented the Davis place. I'm chief of police of Quique Casset. Oh, anything wrong? No. Town limits come all the way out here, though. Eh, going to stay here long? I don't know. A few weeks. Maybe all winter. Oh, you write and follow? No. Paint and follow? No. Just taking a vacation? Yes, yes, you might call it that. Beats me. Well, nice to have this talk with you. Anything you need in the way of police protection, just let me know. He couldn't know. How could he know? Nobody knew about the treasure clue but me. Yet he seemed so suspicious. And he asked me so many questions. Well, I went back to the house set by the window until he was out of sight up the beach. But by that time the tide had come in and the treasure was buried by the ocean. So I waited until five o'clock when the tide was low. And then carrying a gasoline lantern, I paced off the 33-yard southeast of the Rocky Guards and set to work. Although the evening was chilled with a brisk breeze blowing in from the sea, I soon had shed my coat and was dripping with perspiration. I lost all track of time and place in my own identity. I was a machine attacking the wet sliding sand with huge bites of my shovel, widening the hole as it grew deeper until my lantern threw long shadows across the opening that had now become large enough for a coffin. Then my shovel hit something solid. I reached for my lantern and there, under its lifeless green glare, was a section of rotting wood. I shoveled wet sand to one side. There was a rusted iron strap. I had found it. An iron-bound chest. The treasure chest of Dan Jose Gasparri. It was almost too much to bear. Suddenly my dampened shirt chilled me and I was seized with a fit of shivering. Then I had begun crying like a frightened child. How long I crouched there in this agony of relief and joy, I cannot tell, but suddenly above the sound of my own sobs and the pounding surf and the sighing wind, I heard voices. The terrace sees me. Who came now to violate my supreme moment? Who now threatened to deprive me of what was rightfully mine? I turned the lantern out, scrambled from the hole. A few yards away I could see the beam of a flashlight slowly approaching. I ran, hid behind a ledge of rocks, my heart drumming in my ears, my held breath screaming in my tightened throat, trying to listen, trying to see. What were they doing? At last it was quiet. I watched their light as they made their way across the island toward the bay, and then after a long time I heard the cough of a motorboat. Still I waited until the sound of the receding motor was lost in the sighing wind and the hiss of the nearby surf. Then I let my lantern and went back to my digging. The hole, the hole it was half filled and suddenly my terror turned to rage. What, what had they done? I began digging savagely, but almost at once my shovel hit something, something that was softer than the chest and yielded to the pressure. I seized my lantern crouched over for a closer examination and found myself looking into the still open and vacantly staring eyes of a corpse. Is bringing you Mr. J. Carol Nash in the treasure chest of Don Jose. Tonight's production in Radio's Outstanding Theatre of Grills Sows Spends. J. Harlow, wait a minute. Do you mean everyone? Everyone, Hap. Positive? Positive, Hap. Every positive plate in the auto light stay full battery is protected by fiberglass retaining mats to reduce shedding and flaking and give longer life as proved by tests conducted according to accepted life cycle standards. All that plus, eh, Harlow? Plus the fact that the famous auto light stay full needs water only three times a year in normal car use. Yes, the auto light stay full needs water only three times a year in normal car use. So friends, visit your nearest auto light battery dealer and ask him about an auto light stay full battery for your car if a replacement is needed. He services all makes of batteries and he's conveniently located. To quickly learn his address just call Western Union by number. And ask for me operator 25. I'll gladly tell you the name and location of your nearest auto light battery dealer. Where you can get your auto light stay full battery, the battery that needs water only three times a year in normal car use. And remember from bumper to tail light you're always right with auto light. And now, auto light brings back to our Hollywood sound stage Mr. J Carol Nash in Elliott Lewis' production of The Treasure Chest of Don Jose a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. For a moment as I stared into the open eyes of the corpse I had a strange feeling that he was one of Don Jose Gasparillo's men buried with the treasure chest to guard it through eternity. But this was ridiculous. The man was only recently dead no 100 year old skeleton. He was young and well dressed yet he stood between me and my treasure. Was this then, was this then the curse laid upon Don Jose come to rest at my feet with the greatest effort I cover the grizzly garden of my fortune but then it must have been close to midnight the tide was coming in had dragged myself back to the house tormented by a thousand anxieties. Sometime toward dawn I must have fallen asleep for the next thing I knew it was past noon and someone was pounding on my door just just a minute I'm coming oh it's it's you chief good morning afternoon now what I'm sorry I was sleeping thought you was dead dead took long enough to awaken you excuse me I had insomnia most of the night somnia mean you was awake yes most of the night you say why yes you're anything peculiar out here why no no no what do you mean prowlers are such why should anyone be prowling out here didn't say there was asked if you heard anyone no no no I didn't got a check it's being in the town limit why is anything the matter yeah kidnapping murder maybe yeah didn't you heard it on the radio I haven't got a radio sure dread consolation for a man living alone what what what what happened tell me young Harvard fella sinful rich his father paid the ransom twenty thousand dollars the kidnappers didn't deliver the boy got a three-state alarm out for him think they're on the cape somewhere I'm just checking what makes you think they come out here no hunch partly partly because somebody borrowed one of Jen Chantry's boats last night found a blood stain in the cockpit this morning didn't see him no no I told you I didn't yeah so you did well we'll catch him of course if they're on the cape sooner or later we'll catch him ransom money's in small bills all marked they'll get hungry sooner or later and spend some besides we've got a pretty good description of them let me know if you see you here yes yes of course I'll be glad to yeah just checking now there was no time to lose I had already missed one low tide I had to get my gold and get it away from this island of suspicion and debt I waited until five o'clock and returned to my diggings the low scurrying clouds parked the sand with sudden gusts of icy rain there was little likelihood that I would have one welcome visitors on such a forbidding evening I quickly disinterred the body from my treasure hole unquestionably he was the kidnapped victim a young man dressed in flannel slacks and saddle shoes of a college boy I dragged him to one side out of sight behind some rocks where I couldn't see his empty death stare then I went back to my digging by seven o'clock I had uncovered the chest and was prepared to lift it out of its grave the curse? no no no curse for for here was the treasure and it was mine yeah and with that what? he wants an old do you need a hand with that? who are you? what are you doing here? how did you get here? low tide walk get out of the hole Pop answer me help Pop out of the hole come on Pop alright where is it? what? it's gone he got rid of it get him out of there okay Pop come on no no let me go please let me go where is it Pop? what did you do with him? do? where's the kid? there I put him there Steve yeah he's here what are you trying to do Pop? why'd you move him? what's he trying to do? he he was was? was what? look in the hole yeah no no don't box in here that's why you moved him Pop you get to the box give me a hand with this leave it alone it's mine don't touch it shut up yeah sit what do you got Pop? treasure? buried treasure? don't laugh maybe that's what it is let's get it out of there leave it alone leave it alone I told you to shut up alright Steve let's get it out of there there it was my treasure in the sand covered iron bound box only it wasn't mine not why these two hoodlums stood over me with clenched fists and poised boots had guns point they made me grasp one of the rusty handles and one of them lifted the other and they forced me to help carry it toward the house my treasure it was mine and nobody could take it from me now I must find a way to rescue it when we got inside the house they yanked open the chest unemptied one of the canvas sacks it's contents cascading onto the table in a golden stream of doubloons where? what do you know? gold it's mine it belongs to me it's it's my inheritance yeah I know Pop only you're gonna pay a high inheritance tax 100% okay now Pop I'll tell you what we're gonna do my friend and me are in a little trouble and you're gonna give us a hand aren't you Pop what are you talking about go away leave me alone that's just what we're gonna do we're leaving and we're taking that bright shiny stuff with us that treasure is mine but we're gonna be fair more than fair we're gonna give you $20,000 a nice up-to-date American money how do we know maybe that junk of yours ain't worth half that much your money's marked it's ransom money that's beside the point this dough of yours won't work in a cigarette machine you know gonna have to go to a lot of trouble to cash it what was that when the blow opens rain like the devil outside let it get started no no no I won't let you let's take it easy old man you got no complaints you're 20 grand ahead of the game look at this Jeff wind blow a piece of driftwood through the wind come on we gotta get out of here all right let's go grab one under that chair wait a minute you forgetting something what sack full on the table oh yeah here Pop here's one for you as a souvenir come on come on Jeff we gotta get this thing across the sand spit full of tycoons yeah we're all finished here so long Pop my pleasure my pleasure thanks Pop thanks a million and they were gone walking slowly across the dunes with their heavy burden I watched them unaware of the sheets of rain driving through the open door of the cottage unaware that the house itself was shattering from the impact of the storm unaware that the wind had shifted from northeast to southeast and suddenly I became I became conscious of my great danger the game frame cottage was creaking and shaking it was shaking from the relentless wind and the sound of the storms had a familiar tone a tone I had heard once before and then I realized the wind had shifted I realized this was no ordinary storm this was a hurricane outside the waves were piling up coming closer and closer to the cottage over my head there was an ominous crunching ripping in the caves I could see the great daylight to the east the roof would blow loose at any moment I threw myself against the kitchen door and the crunching load ran away from the sea down behind the shelter of a high dune I stumbled against the cranberry bush and fell flat spread eagles on the sand and suddenly suddenly the wind stopped the rain stopped and there was the calm of death it was the center of the hurricane the eye the moment of respite before the final fury of the storm and I remembered the curse and wished aloud for its fulfillment and there was no sound but the booming of the furious scythe and then there seemed to be a distant human cry I looked toward the rocky guards far in the distance for an instant I could see the tiny struggling figures of my tormentors and then a giant wave crashed down on them and they and the spit disappeared and boiling angry water and the wet heavens descended again hurled upon me by the tail of the hurricane with a light in my eyes a light brighter and bigger and closer than the sun and I heard a voice You all right, Mr. Gasper? Who? It's me, Trish Weatherby got out here as soon as I could we were worried about you out here with no radio you couldn't get the storm warnings to come up so fast wasn't time to get you off Oh, thanks that's very kind of you Lucky you got out of the house Why? Ain't there no more Ocean came plumb through carried the house right out into the bay made two islands out of sprayed spit The house is gone? Not a stick of it left ten foot channel where it stood Storms play funny tricks that kidnapper and I told you about Yes, what about it? Found three bodies out near those rocks the kidnappers and their victim What do you know about that? Nothing Nothing at all It is a very funny story, you know but I cannot laugh the joke is on me You don't believe me but look here is the gold doubloon all that is left of the treasure chest of Danoze yet I know this to be true there is a treasure I saw it held it and that treasure still exists only now there is no map but I can tell you in the rocky surf near the two islands called Sprigspit if you will dare the curse is the treasure chest of Danoze South Spence the story of a true buried treasure presented by Auto Light tonight's star Mr. J. Carol Nash this is Harlow Wilcox speaking for Auto Light world's largest independent manufacturer of automotive electrical equipment Auto Light is proud to serve the greatest names in the industry that's why during the early months of 1952 the Auto Light family is saluting the leading car manufacturers who use Auto Light products as original equipment our Auto Light family is a big family and it's made up of nearly 30,000 men and women in Auto Light plants from coast to coast and in many foreign countries our family is also made up of more than 18,000 people who have invested a portion of their savings in Auto Light as well as 96,000 Auto Light distributors and dealers in the United States and thousands more in Canada and throughout the world our Auto Light family will salute the Chrysler Division of Chrysler Corporation on the next Auto Light suspense television program if you live in a television area check the day and time of suspense on television so that you will be sure to see this show and remember be with us next week for another thrilling Auto Light suspense program on radio next week on suspense our star will be Mr. James Mason in the story of the terrifying escape of a dying man an adaptation of Odd Man Out in weeks to come we shall also present Miss Barbara Stanwick, Mr. Richard Whitmark and Mr. Herbert Marshall on Suspense Suspense is produced and directed by Elliot Lewis with music composed by Lucian Morrowick and conducted by Lud Bluskin The treasure chest of Don Jose was written for suspense by Christopher Anthony featured in the cast were Anthony Barrett Charles Seal Joseph Kearns and Clayton Post Jay Carol Nash has just completed Clash by Night and is called Norman Krasner for RKO and remember next week on suspense Mr. James Mason in an adaptation of Odd Man Out this is Harlow Wilcox again to ask if you have time to send a dime your contribution to the march of dimes will help a polio victim to walk again send your dimes or dollars to your local march of dimes headquarters won't you join the march of dimes tonight this is the CBS radio network