 Box 13, with the style of Paramount Pictures, Alan Ladd as Dan Holiday. Hello, Susie. Come for Box 13, male? Uh-huh. Is there any, Connie? Sure, a lot of it. But here's one that's different. Different? How? Well, look at the paper. And it didn't come by male. It was just put on the counter here. That's funny. I wonder why. Yeah, it was funny, all right. That was the letter that said Box 13. I've been watching your ad appear in the Star Times day after day. You want adventure? Very well, I think I can offer that. I'm going to find out who you are. And when I do, I'm going to kill you within four days. That gives you four days to find out who I am. If you learn that, you may stop me from killing you. But if you don't, at least you will have four days of different adventure. Now back to Box 13 and Dan Holiday's newest adventure, Find Me, Find That. At least you will have had four days of different adventure. Oh gee, maybe you better go to Lieutenant Kling, Mr. Holiday. Why, Susie? Well, you don't want to be killed, do you? I'll try my best to avoid that ugly possibility. You think it's just a gag, don't you? Well, it could be. And then again, oh, Susie. What, Mr. Holiday? Know why this letter was delivered to the Star Times by hand rather than through the regular mail? No. So whoever wrote it could see who picked up the mail there. And find out who you are. And you. You worry? I am now. Gee, it could be a psychic killer who wrote it. Psychopathic, Susie. Anyway, I don't think we should take it too seriously. Yeah, that's what I said. Don't take it too seriously. I didn't. At first. I'd almost forgotten about the letter until that night when I went home. I walked into my apartment building and was passing the desk when the clerk called out to me. Mr. Holiday. Oh, Mr. Holiday. Oh, hello there. How are you? Fine. So you certainly were deep in thought when you came in. Yes, I guess I was. Here's a letter for you. Oh, thank you. You're welcome. Is anything wrong, Mr. Holiday? I don't know. Who gave you this? No one. No one? What do you mean? Well, it was on the floor just inside the lobby door. I thought maybe you dropped it. No, I didn't. You didn't see anyone who might have thrown it on the floor? I'm sorry. I didn't, Mr. Holiday. I've been at the switchboard all evening and I can't see the entrance from there. I see. Is anything wrong? I mean, bad news, anything like that? Here, read this. I'm ready, Mr. Holiday. What are you? That's a funny kind of note. Very funny. Has there been anyone here asking for me? Not a soul, at least not since I've been on duty since seven this evening. Any calls? None. You sure no one came in? Well, not that I saw. You look worried, Mr. Holiday. Do I? Okay, forget it. Good night. Good night, Mr. Holiday. Oh, if there are any calls, do you want them? Yes, ring me in my apartment. Sure will, sir. Good night. Maybe it was a joke. A little gruesome, but nevertheless a joke. I went up to my apartment. I don't know why I did it, but I tried the door softly and carefully before I put the key in and unlocked it. I stood there for a moment in the dark. Then I switched on the lights. I told myself I was being a little silly that this was a joke. I walked to the window and opened it. I stood there, looking out and down the street below. The pavement in front of the apartment building was empty. No one there. Then I went to the phone, and I made a dozen calls and got a great reputation among my friends for being, well, a little off the rails. But no one admitted the joke. Maybe just maybe because it wasn't a joke. Good morning, Mr. Holiday. Gee, you look as though you haven't slept. You look tired. I slept but badly. Did you have insa... Couldn't you sleep? Where's the mail, Susie? Right here. Oh, thank you. What's the matter, Mr. Holiday? Nothing, Susie. I'm just getting a little angry. At me? No, no, Susie. Not at you. What is it? Same paper, same handwriting. What is? This letter. But this time it was sent through the mail. Mr. Holiday, what's wrong? Here, read it. Oh, sure. Dear Mr. Holiday, now I know who you are. You must know it because you got my message last night. But what I didn't tell you in my last letter was that if you go to the police, you won't get four days. I'll kill you as soon as you make a move to contact them. Play the game fairly, Mr. Holiday, and you'll have four days. Good luck. Let me have that letter, Susie. What are you going to do? Pay a visit. To the police? Oh, but Mr. Holiday... No, no, not to the police. I'm just going to satisfy myself about something. Will you come in, Mr. Holiday? Oh, thank you, Doctor. Please sit down. Thanks. Now, the nurse said that you seemed rather anxious about something. I don't usually see people without a point. I know, and I appreciate this. Oh, here are three letters, Doctor. I'd like you to read them, and, well, as a psychiatrist, tell me what you think about them. Letters? Let me see. Can you read while I talk? Certainly. Go right ahead. Well, here's my advertisement in the Star Times, the one mentioned in the first letter you're reading now. I'll explain about the letter later. But first, would any person be liable to write such letters as those? No. No normal person, Mr. Holiday. But an abnormal person might. Have you thought of the possibility of a prank or a joke? No, I have. No one admits it. Well, no one would if it is a joke. Doctor, what kind of a person would write letters like those? Leaving out the gag angle, I mean. Mr. Holiday, if I try to, well, go into motives thoroughly, you'd be here all day listening to me. However, there are people who, to all appearances, the external appearances seem perfectly normal. Yet those same persons, once the stimulus is applied, the motivation furnished will do terrible things. Even commit murder? Yeah. Our records are full of such case histories. Why, Mr. Holiday? What little we know about such things tells us that these persons need even actually crave the bolster to their egos. Now, if the person who wrote these letters really kills you, as he says, then he'd feel superior to you and the rest of the world. That's oversimplifying it, of course, but basically that's it. Now, why pick on me? Well, look at your advertisement, Mr. Holiday. Box 13, adventure wanted, will go anyplace, do anything. You mean that ad is a challenge to the person who wrote the letter? Exactly. You supplied the stimulus, the motivation to this person. In other words, barring a joke, I'm in trouble. Why don't you go to the police? You read the third letter. If I go to the police, I'll be killed before the four days are up. I think you've got to take that chance. Maybe. Look, Doctor, can this be kept confidential? Well, if you wanted that way, yeah. For a while, anyway. Now, thanks very much. Or would you send your bill to my office? Oh, no charge. On one condition. Condition? What's that? Come to see me after four days. Doctor, I'll be very happy to see anyone after four days. That night I tried to sleep, but I couldn't. I told myself a million times that it was stupid and silly to let this get me. It was a joke. It had to be. But I heard Susie reading that letter. I'll kill you. Those same persons, once the stimulus is applied, the motivation for an issue will do terrible things. I'm going to find out who you are. And when I do, I'll kill you within four days. Look at your advertisement, Mr. Holliday. That adds a challenge to the first neuropeller. Kill you within four days. You terrible thing. Don't go to the police. Why don't you go to the police? I jumped out of bed as though I'd been shot. I thought I had. But it was a car backfiring in the street below. Well, that made up my mind for me. I was going to the police. I got dressed and went downstairs. Going out, Mr. Holliday? Yeah, for a little while. Can't sleep? It's a little tough. Yes, sir. Pretty noisy outside. That car backfiring woke me up. You weren't sleeping? Well, just dozing, that's all. You're supposed to stay awake. Anyone could get in or out. I'm sorry, Mr. Holliday. I just... No, I'm sorry. I'm jumpy, I guess. Forget it. Oh, if there are any calls, I'll be back in an hour. Yes, sir, Mr. Holliday. Good night, sir. Good night. I walked out of my apartment building. There were a lot of people in the streets. Coming home from shows. Maybe going out for a bite to eat. Or to the store for a package of cigarettes. I looked at their faces. They were the same kind of faces I saw every other day. Except now, now they were different in a subtle way. I wondered which one might be... Hey, bud. What? You got the time? I scared you, eh? You looked like he was a million miles away. No, I wish I were, Mr. I wish I were. Oh, here you are. Hey, hey, I asked for the time, not a handout. It's all right, you're welcome. Hey, cab. Cab. Take me to the nearest police station. Make it fast. Here I keep the change. The street in front of the police station was empty. The tail light of the cab I just left receded in the distance and disappeared. The headlights of a car coming down the street were yellow and misty. I started toward the stairs, but stopped to watch the car coming down the street. It slowed up a little, and then an envelope hit the pavement. I picked it up. The car from which it had been tossed disappeared down the street and around a corner. I tore open the envelope. The note was in the same handwriting. It was short and sweet. Mr. Holiday, if you try to go into that police station, a bullet will kill you before you can get inside. And now back to Find Me, Find Death, another Box 13 adventure with Alan Ladd as Dan Holiday. I didn't go into the station. Somehow, I believed that note. Then the next day at the office, Susie and I talked it over. Please, you'll be careful, won't you, Mr. Holiday? Careful. Yeah, sure. But how? Look, Susie knows where I live. He knows every move I make. But I haven't got the slightest clue as to who he or she is. You've got to find out. Yes, I know, but how? I'm no Superman, Susie. And I've only got two more days. Maybe if you left town, Mr. Holiday. I wouldn't do any good. He'd be sure to follow. What's the matter? Did you think of something? No. No, you did. I did? Yes, you. Susie, leave town. That's the answer. But you just said he'd follow you. If it's not a joke, he will. Now, wait. Let's think this out. By train? No. Too many people to check on the train. I'd never be able to narrow the choice down. Go by bus, Mr. Holiday. Bus. That's it, Susie. Bus. Not a big one. Those small lines that make only about a 300 or 400 mile run. How many people can get on one of those? Maybe 20 or 30 at one time. Sure. 20 or 30. And I've got an idea. Come on to the station with me, Susie. Me? What for? You'll see. Hand me that small bag. You gonna pack? No, the bag will be just a prop. Now, come on, let's go. Now, look, Susie, I'm going to buy a ticket on that bus, the one marked on the schedule, leaving in five minutes. I'm going to buy a ticket all the way through to the end of the line. Then what? Then I'm going to get off that bus before the end of the line and come right back here. Gee, it sounds all right, but I don't get it. Don't you see, Susie, if he's following me, he'll buy a ticket all the way through, and he'll have to get off before the end of the line to keep track of me. Well, so long, Susie. I took a good look at my fellow passengers on the bus. It wasn't crowded, there were only ten beside me. I wondered which of the ten, if any, was the person who was after me then. Excuse me. Oh, excuse me. Oh, yes. Would you do me a favor, please? Oh, I can, sure. What is it? This is my little boy, Harold. All the seats next to the windows are taken. He likes to look out. I wondered if you'd mind to be just... Oh, certainly not. Here you are, sonny. Climb in. Oh, thank you. Harold, be careful of your lollipop now. Don't get it all over the nice man. Like to ride, sonny? Hey, it's pretty out there, isn't it? Kid, don't talk much, does he? Oh, no, not much. Going all the way? Yes, all the way. And you? Mm-hmm, all the way. You want one of these books to read? Help pass the time. Oh, thank you. No, it's nothing. Here's a good murder mystery. You like murders? Hmm, nothing like them. Most of the murderers in them books are sure dumb. Now, if I was going to kill somebody, nobody would even know I was going to do it. I bet I could kill somebody and get away with it. That is, if I wanted to kill somebody. And do you? Sometimes I do, mister. Sometimes I do. Well, I'll let you to your reading. Harold, you can come with me now. Thanks for your kindness, mister. There's a seat next to the window up front now. Harold, where's your lollipop? Oh, here you are. This is it. Oh, thank you. Where was it? Oh, I just ran my fingers through my hair, and there it was. Oh, thank you. Come on, Harold. The rest of the passengers sat silently and quietly in their seats. Some reading, some just staring out of the window. Then I saw one man who was just looking at me with a little smile on his face. A smile widened, and I smiled back. He came over to me. Mind if I sit down? No, not at all. Thanks. You mean all kinds of people on a bus? That's why I like to ride on them. You make a habit of it? Well, I guess you could say I do. How about you? Well, I don't ride buses as a rule. I see. You on a business trip? Well, I guess you could say I am. Salesman? No, I'm a rider. What? Rider? Oh, is that funny? Oh, sorry. Oh, so am I a rider. I mean... Is that so? My name's Trevor, William Trevor. Mine's Holiday, Dan Holiday. Well, I'll be. A mystery fiction writer, aren't you? Yes, that's right. Well, my stuff runs more to the scientific, but I get a lot of material on these buses. You do? For example? Well, a couple of years ago I rode on the same bus with a man who killed three men. I talked to him, I had a cup of coffee with him at a stop. I never would have thought of him as a killer. I mean, he was no different from you or me, or that fellow who gave you the book a few minutes ago. I suppose lots of people who appear normal aren't really as normal as they seem. I guess so. You going far, Dan? Yes, all the way. Well, I'll leave you to your reading. Oh, murder mystery. You like them? Sometimes I do. It all depends on how I feel. How much do you mean? Well, I think I'll try a little nap for a few minutes. I'll see you later. He went back to his seat. I sat, pretended to read, but no one else spoke to me or paid any attention to me. The bus went on, on, and on. The bus made its first stop after an hour's ride. I got off as did the rest of the passengers. Everyone took a stretch and then... What? All aboard, please? All aboard? I looked behind the post and waited. Waited until the bus pulled out. I looked around. I was just going to board a return bus. Hey, Dan, I thought you were going all the way. I changed my mind, Mr. Trever. Oh. I thought you were going all the way. Did I say that? I don't think so. I may have imagined it. That could be. I know I didn't say it. Look, this is a stub of my ticket. It's punched as far as this stopped. He was right. This ticket was punched only as far as it stopped. I looked at him. He must have seen the expression on my face because... Hey, don't you feel well? Yes, I... I'm all right. Why? You got a kind of funny look on your face as though you expected... Well, expected something to happen that didn't. Or maybe I'm imagining things now. You going back to the city? Yeah, sure. Come on, this is a return bus. Looks like we'll be able to get a seat. Hey, Trevor. Trevor. Hmm? Oh, we're back, huh? Well, short trip in a merry one. A merry one? That could be. See, I wonder if you come to my place some evening for a chit chat. My wife would love to meet somebody who's successful in his writing. What's the matter with you? Oh, I'm afraid I'm not the picture of the successful writer. I've had a lot of disappointment. Oh, I see. Well, I'll be glad to. Could you make it tonight? Well, I don't... Look, we're having some people over. My wife would get a big kick out of having a real live writer. A good one that is. Come over to the house. All right. If I find I'm free. I'll be there. Well, hey, here. Here's my name and address. Gee, my wife would get a kick out of this. Here. Oh, please, try to make it, will you? Sure, sure. I'll try. Okay. I'll see you later then. Thanks. He got off of the bus ahead of me and walked away. I wondered. I wondered about a lot of things. Traver had been the only one of the original passengers who had taken the return bus with me. Yet, his ticket was punched for the first stop. If he'd wanted to keep track of me, he would have bought a ticket all the way through because he couldn't have known I'd get off. I decided to accept his invitation because, well, I had to find out sooner or later. And so that night I stood on the doorstep outside Traver's home. Inside a radio was playing. I could hear people laughing, talking. I rang the doorbell and waited. Holiday, you did come. Oh, are you surprised? Oh, sure I am. You know, all those invitations usually work out and nobody goes anyplace. Come on in and meet the gang. Oh, they glad to. Look, old man, if those goons in there start chewing your head off of questions and get bored, you just give me the high sign and we'll break it off, OK? Mr. Traver, you have no idea how glad I am to be among people. What do you mean? Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. I just like people, that's all. I see. In here, Holiday. Surprised, Holiday? Your wife. And some guests, huh? I'll turn it off. That's an excellent record. It's used for sound effects and radio, I believe. Open that door. No, not yet. Sit down, Holiday. Traver, listen to me. You're all fool even to try to get away with this. Oh, I've gotten away with it before. Five times to be exact. I don't force me to shoot you yet. Sit down. Five times? Yes. But this one is the most exciting. Sit down, Holiday. That's better. Now, I must say that that bus trick of yours was very clever, Holiday. But my trick was a little more so. You actually bought a ticket as far as the first stop. Of course. If you'd gone on, it would have been a simple matter for me to pay the difference in fare. But you are clever. Traver, listen to me. You're not well. Now, let's stop this nonsense right now. Not well! I'm well all right. The rest of the world is made up of fools and idiots. But I like you, Holiday. So much so that I'm going to give you a chance. Chance? What kind of a chance? You sit at one end of that long table. I'll sit at the other. Go ahead. Now what? Now, neither of us can reach the other. I have two guns here. One for you and one for me. You're going to give me a gun? Exactly. Do you ever hear of Russian roulette? I see you have. I'll put one bullet in each gun. One and only one. I'll spin the cylinders on each revolver so that neither of us knows in which chamber the bullet is. Now, the bullet in your gun may be in the chamber under the hammer. Or it may not. The same for mine. Here, catch. Trevor, for the last time, let me out of here. No! You play the game. Point the gun at me, Holiday, as I point mine at you. So, if your bullet is under the hammer, you kill me. If mine is under the hammer... Ready? Squeeze the trigger, Holiday. Because I'm going to... Trevor, stop it. I'm rather tired, Holiday. This may be the end. When I count three. One. Two. Three. They're both lucky. All right. One small. There was one long chance. To my right was the only light in the room, a student lamp on a small table. I waited until Trevor counted to three, then died for the lamp. It was dark. I heard Trevor moving then. Holiday! Stay where you are, Trevor. Don't try to get out the door, Holiday. I know exactly where it is now. I've got a bullet, too. Have you? Do you think I'm a fool? You've got a fake in your gun. You try it. This is more exciting than I ever imagined it would be. Holiday, you may as well take it now, because you'll never get out alive. Go ahead, fire at me. When do you think you'll get the loaded chamber, Trevor? I'm going to kill you. I must kill you. The next chamber is the one, Trevor, and you'd better hit me. I'll wait. I'll wait until I can see you. Will you? Then you'll have to wait until morning. By that time I'll be missed, and my secretary knows where I've gone. Then they'll come here, Trevor. They'll come here and take you away. They'll put you where you'll get better, because you're sick, Trevor. Very sick. Think of it, Trevor. Long nights and days where you can't get out. Long nights and days. They'll come for you, Trevor. They'll come for you in the morning. You poor devil. You poor... I'm sorry. And you were locked up in that dark room with him. Yeah, Susie. It wasn't nice. But now he's locked up, or he can't harm anyone or himself. You know what, Mr. Holiday? You need a nice long rest. Oh, say it again, Susie. Say it again. You sure do. Why don't you take a nice bus ride someplace? But... good night, Susie. Next week, same time through the courtesy of Paramount Pictures, Alan Ladd stars as Dan Holiday in Box 13. Box 13 is directed by Richard Sanville, with this week's original story by Russell Hughes. Original music is composed and conducted by Rudy Schrager. Part of Susie is played by Sylvia Picker, and production is supervised by Vern Carstensen. Box 13 is a Mayfair production from Hollywood. Watch for Alan Ladd in his latest Paramount Picture.