 Signal gasoline. Let every traffic signal remind you, you do go farther with signal gasoline. Yes, you do go farther with signal. The signal oil company and your neighborhood signal dealer bring you another curious story by the Whistler. Tonight, a pattern for terror. I am the Whistler and I know many things for I walk by night. I know many strange tales hidden in the heart of men and women who have stepped into the shadows. Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. A kaleidoscope is a simple instrument, a toy, made of a tube with a few mirrors and bits of colored glass, nothing more. Yet when you revolve it slowly, an unending series of complicated patterns appear. Always changing, never the same. On this midnight of December 10th, 1944, the mind of Ted Stratton as it struggles for consciousness is like a kaleidoscope. One of the patterns is this. Hello, darling. Norma's party at her house, high on the hill in Marin County looking down on San Rafael and San Francisco Bay, and Larry Craig, handsome, talented Larry playing Chopin waltzes on the piano. A pleasant pattern, Ted. Bright reds and yellows sparkling cheerful and with Norma at your side, complete. But the designs starting to change. The reds and yellows are fading. Deep blues and purples are creeping in. Ted Stratton, you're being entirely ridiculous. Ridiculous, my foot. This is the first time, Norma. I'll get a little tired of it. What are you trying to say? I'm simply suggesting that your relationship with your virtuoso friend in there is slightly more intimate than pupil and teacher. Ted. It's been going on for weeks, hasn't it? You know what you're saying. Sure. Why don't you tell me? Why don't you come right out and spill it? It was all a big mistake getting engaged. That's me strattin' the mistake. No runs, no hits, one error. Ted, you're drunk. So what? What else can I do? Can't play the piano like Mr. Craig gotta do something? You have to shout. Yes. You have to make a bigger fool of yourself by walking in there and telling everybody. Yes. Why don't you do it upright? Make a real party out of it. You know, that's an idea. Pattern Ted, deep blues and purples in the green tinge of jealousy mixed with the sound of party talk and the taste of champagne. The kaleidoscope in your mind slowly turns and the pattern gets still darker. Norma's party for you. There she is again, the Ted side gazing at him like a crooner struck Bobby Soxer as he plays. The pattern turns red. Shut up, Craig. I could kill you, Craig. Can you hear me? I could kill you. Except for the monotonous moan of the fog going down at the point near Saddon Quentin Prison. Cool, peaceful. The fog has turned to a drizzle and it feels good on your head. Clears your mind, takes away the nagging ache. Open your eyes, Ted. Look around. Swirling fog, everything black. It's almost raining. You're wet and cold. Raise your head. A hot knife jabs it. Breathe in that cool air and try again. That string of yellow lights over to the left, wavering like a clothesline in a high wind. Finally settles into... Yes, Ted, you must have stopped here on the way home from Norma's party. Party? Yeah, party. What am... what am I doing here? The car, who's...? Larry's. I'm in Larry's car. Ted, alone in Larry's open convertible. Remember Larry? You could kill him. It's just what you said, wasn't it? You could kill him. Where's Larry? I've got to find Larry. Go back to Norma's. Wait a minute. I have Martin Ellie's Roadhouse. You can call her from there. She'll probably laugh until you Larry is pacing the floor, wondering what happened to his car. What'll you have, mister? Why don't I use your telephone? Yeah, go right ahead. Sorry, around the corner to the right. This is the house phone. Oh, okay. Where's Larry? What do you mean? He left? Tell me exactly what happened, Norma. That's not important now. Norma, will you please tell me what happened? I must have seen him down by the highway. For instance, Signal Oil Company sponsors the Whistler. In addition, for 14 years, the name Signal has stood for the finest petroleum products that money can buy. But most important today, Signal Go Farther Gasoline is helping Western drivers stretch their gas stamps. For it's true, you still go as far as before the war with Signal. And I'll tell you why. You see, modern gasolines are composed of many ingredients, each of which does a specific job. For instance, the very volatile highest octane components such as isopentane give pep and anti-knock. And these are the ingredients reserved for war. That's why Signal Oil Company frankly admits no gasoline today can give you all the brilliant performance you found in pre-war Signal Gasoline and which you'll enjoy again in even further improved Signal Postwar Gasoline. But other ingredients give mileage and these components are still in the famous Signal formula. In fact, additional new hydrocarbons rich in mileage have even been added. That's why more and more wise drivers who keep track of their mileage are finding it's as true today as before the war. You do go farther with Signal Gasoline. Back to the whistler. Ted Stratton stands in the telephone booth of the Road House for over a minute, receiver in hand. Staring Dully at the phone dial, trying to think. Trying to remember what happened after he left Norma's party. Nothing, no dice. Just the red rage at Larry before he walked out, then blackness of blank. Until he opened his eyes and Larry's car parked at the edge of the highway. Norma says, I left Larry left right after me. Just after in front of everybody I said I wanted to kill him. Possible I couldn't have. But that's not what you told everybody, is it Ted? That's the one thing you do remember. You could kill him. That's only your reflection in the big mirror on the wall. The one that they jumped when you walked into the bar. Clothes torn to shreds and ugly gas over your right eye. Larry must have been tougher than you figured. Look at your right hand, Ted, swollen up like a bunch of bananas. Better get out of here. I know. I don't know what he looks like, but... Call you back. Get your call through, okay, brother? Yeah, thanks. Uh, just a minute. You look like you could use a drink. Thanks, no, I... Hello? That's Rose. Things with the band weekends. Maybe I can set you both up, huh? Oh, that would be a swell idea, miss. Sorry, I'm in a hurry. Oh, don't be that way. He's just playing hard to get. Come on, pal, I feel generous. This one's on the house. He doesn't do that for everyone. How about... I got to go, I tell you. Oh, just one. Get out of my way, let me go. You better push me. What are you doing? Let the air out of the tire. Trying to stall me. No time to fix it later. I gotta go. Already, you're sure of it. You can see tomorrow morning's headlines. Barney found on highway attacked by unknown assailant. Police searching Marin County for murderer. That's why the bartender was wise, tried to stall you. Lucky you caught part of that phone call he was making. Thought that flat tire would stop you, did they? Can't go much farther, though. It's in shreds already. Look, the service station down at the junction. Got to take a chance. You're lucky. No customers. Got a flat tire. I got to change it in a hurry, could you help? Sure. Got the dolly right here. I'll help you. I'll get the tire. Good. Let me see where it is. There it is on the floor under steering wheel. Must have been using it tonight, huh? Yeah. I guess so. They get up there familiar, isn't it? Part of that hazy pattern in your mind. You have used it tonight, positive. You can feel it in your right arm, swinging the iron bar hard through the air, landing with a sickening thud on someone's head. There's no doubt anymore. You must have been crazy to run on a tire like that. Good one, too. Bloody a tread left. Ain't fit for the junk heap now, though. I was alone on the highway. I didn't have a jacket. Yeah, alone? Couldn't have waited long. Every cop in the county's on the road tonight. They'll give you a hand, you know. What did you say? My cops. Must be a thousand of them tonight, passing by the station. Won't say nothing about what's up, but I can tell they're looking for someone. They're looking for someone, huh? Yeah, a lot of like tonight to escape over San Quentin a few years back. Yeah, maybe so. Can you hurry a little? Yeah, sure. Hey, where you going? San Francisco. Good. I'll ride across the bridge with you. Hello. I'm sure you're just fixing up the man's tire. Be ready to shake. It doesn't mean to scare you, buddy. McGregor, State Patrol. Left my partner around the corner in the car. I've got to pick up another one in San Francisco. Okay? Well, I don't know. Well, you said you were going to San Francisco, didn't you? I meant that I... Okay. I'm going to San Francisco. For ducks. Yeah, kind of wet. You would have bused loose with some real rain any minute. Say, you ever thought of putting that top up? Huh? Oh, yeah, the top. This is one of them fancy automatic ones, isn't it? Yeah, automatic. Well, how about putting it up? Well, it doesn't work. It's broken. Oh. Hey, pull out of that tow plaza for a second, will you? I want to check with the boys. Yeah, sure. Guys, give me a ride into town. Left Charlie with a patrol car. I'm going to pick up another one at headquarters. I see. Come into the toll room a second, will you? Something I'd like you to look at. Sure. I'll be right with you, buddy. You can see them in the glass and closed toll room looking at a paper, then at you arguing about something. Maybe you can run for it. That motorcycle cop up in front. He's looking at you, too. And there must be five of them behind you all waiting. Well, don't sit there and shake. Do something. Wipe the seat off anything. Or to be a rag in the glove compartment. Oh, here's your coal. Get that blanket out of the back seat. Cold, then, races like a trip hammer. There, under the blanket in back, huddle on the floor, is a body, a foot with the gray suede black leather shoes sticking out from under the blanket. OK, seen in an hour or so. Come on, buddy, let's get going. Yeah, yeah, OK. Sorry about that last. Eddie's a new man. Eddie? What do you mean? Well, the guy at the plaza. New guy. Got the jitters, you know. Oh, yeah. Seems like everybody's got the jitters tonight. You, uh, you stopped at Martinelli's about a half hour ago, didn't you? Yeah, I had to make a phone call. Martinelli's got the jitters, too. Called headquarters about you. Me? I'll come. Well, he happened to know we were after a big duck tonight. Thought you were it. So, Eddie, just like I've been telling the chief, you only ask for trouble when you tip off the amateurs. Here, say you're after someone? Yeah. Who? Well, just saying that don't pay to tip off the amateurs. Now, pick it up a little, will you? I'm getting wet. Eh, maybe there's blanket in the back. Wait a minute, no. What was that? Nothing. The other blanket on top of the seat, remember? And he didn't look down. It can't last much longer, Ted. You're ready to drive the car off the road anything, but you haven't a chance on the Golden Gate Bridge. Cups at both ends and 200 feet down to the water on either side. That crazy idiot, follow him. Huh? Hurry up, that car he must have been doing 70. We can catch him at the toll station. That's good for 30 days. He's got a swap for the toll station. He's going right through. Follow him. We might catch him at the signal. You'll get him out of the car anyway while he's writing out the ticket. Your luck's holding out. Look up there. He's tangled with a truck at the intersection. Slow down. I'm going to teach that guy a lesson. I better get out your side. Up against the pole. Here. Stick around. Who's the driver of this car? Mingle with the crowd for a minute, two minutes, three. He's busy now taking names and numbers, writing out citations. And don't argue with me. When you passed us on the bridge, you were doing 70. You're plenty lucky nobody was killed. Why, just as soon, hang 20 years for manslaughter on your next flight of flight. I don't give you any more backtalk. You can save it for the judge. He's forgotten about you, Ted. He's back toward the car now. He can't see you with people crowding around him. There, you get everything ready. Once you step on that starter, you'll have to move fast. Okay, the switch. The keys. Where are the keys? I had them. They're gone somewhere, buddy. No way. Shut up. Jerry. Yeah, man. Take over, will ya? I gotta get down to the station. Okay. All right, get going. Here's the keys. I don't play hunches very often, but when I do, I'm usually right. Start the car. Listen, I'm late now. It'll be funny late tonight, brother. You know, there could be a million reasons why you got an egg on your noggin, black eye, torn clothes. It might even be a reason why you ain't got a registration on the steering wheel. Maybe it ain't back from Sacramento. Maybe you just bought the car. Maybe you lost it. Okay, so I pass them up. Listen, officer, you're right. It isn't my car. It belongs to a friend of mine. Girl in San Rafael, Norma Schaefer. I bought it. Shut up. I ain't finished. And I ain't saying I'm right. Listen, you can phone her. I said shut up. All right. So I pass up the black eye and the torn clothes and no registration. Figuring you got good reasons. But there just ain't a good reason for a guy riding around in a rainy night with a top down. I said it didn't work. Maybe it doesn't. I can be wrong. Give it a try. Well, where? I don't know. You don't know how, huh? She didn't tell me. It's very simple, pal. All you gotta do is this. And up she comes. I was right, wasn't I? Listen, I can explain. You don't have a chance to explain. Don't worry. Only it looks to me like maybe you didn't want to seem too strange to the car where the copper's sitting next to you. Maybe you bartered without bothering to tell the guy who owns it, huh? You seem to know all about it. I'm still guessing. Like I told you, we're after a big duck tonight. But I ain't above hauling in the car snitcher on the side. You may as well give up. Spill the works. You were out of your head and maybe you complete insanity. You're in a locked room at the station now and the car is safe in the garage downstairs. It's only a matter of time until someone looks under the blanket on the floor in the back. Or since you woke up with the raid in your face parked on the highway, you're too tired to care now. Your head feels full of broken bottles. You wish they'd call Norma and get it over with. Find out from her that it's Larry's car. The same Larry Craig they found on the highway. Huh? We finally reached her. Norma? Yeah. Okay. Tell me, Stratton, why did you give me the bum steer? Why? Why did you tell me it was her car? She told us who it belonged to. I thought she would. What next? Just a little friendly advice. Next time tell the truth and you'll save yourself a lot of trouble. What do you mean next time? Next time you pick up a carp in a borrowed car. Okay, you can go. You mean I can leave? Sure. Unless you want to spend the night here. Come on. Hey, what's the matter with you? Oh, I... On the stairway here to the garage. Here's your car. Say, Mac, would you hold it a minute? I didn't get this baby lugged. I thought you were going to be here longer. Yes, so did I. I got the motor number and description. I got to check the luggage compartment. Just a second. Pretty silly, but these things are important sometimes. Now the back seat. There's nothing there. Just checking. Blanket. No, not the... What about with him? He passed out. What's under that blanket? Nothing. Whistler will return in just a moment with a strange ending of tonight's story. Meantime, a word about a way you can add actually thousands of miles to the life of your aging tires through a service offered by signal gasoline dealers. I'm talking about scientific tire switching. You see, tests prove that the right rear tire gets almost three times as much wear as the left front, and the left rear gets 50% more wear than the right front. That's why tires should be switched at least every 4,000 miles, or often if you drive on bad roads. Your signal dealer knows the proper method of crisscrossing tires to get maximum wear from each one, including the spare. And while the tires are being switched, it's an ideal time to have them thoroughly examined so any small injuries can be found and repaired before they spread and perhaps ruin the tire. Here again, your signal dealer is completely equipped to give you the finest in modern tire repair, whether it's a small patch or a full recap. You see, those friendly dealers displaying signals, yellow and black circle signs, are much more than just a place to get signal go farther gasoline and find signal lubrication. Each signal dealer has a complete line of automotive services and fine accessories to help your car run better, look better, and last longer. And now, back to the whistler. There's too much, Ted, too much to take right from the start. You were hanging by a thread from the moment you opened your eyes at midnight on the highway. You welcomed the sea of blackness that engulfed you when Wilbur lifted the edge of the blanket in the police garage. It was rest at last and peace. You finally opened your eyes in a white hospital room with a white hospital smell in the air. The first thing you see is a pair of shoes underneath the bed next to you, the black and gray suede shoes. Remember? Sure, he just needs a good rest. Norma? Ted? Norma. Oh, Ted. Oh, I'm so sorry about everything. It was my fault. Norma, those shoes. They're keeping them in the next room. There's an officer with them all the time. Your brother, when you slug them, they stay slugged. He's got a fractured skull. Oh, Larry, come on in. He's awake. Hello, hero. How do you feel? Larry, I was just checking our victim. Oh, what? Okay, so he's your victim. I softened him up for you. You must have done the trick with that tire, Anna. I don't know what you're talking about. The convict, dear. Don't you remember? No, convict. Hey, he doesn't remember. Maybe that's why you were playing games with me. Well, in case you don't know it, Ted, he would have killed me if it weren't for you. He had me on the ropes down at the car when you came up from behind. The last thing I remember is you shoving me into the bushes and taking him on gun and all with that tire iron. Oh. And maybe you don't think you made a monkey out of me riding into San Francisco with a guy tucked away in the back seat all the time. He must have come to and crawled out when we stopped at the accident, I guess. But Jerry nailed him before he'd gone a hundred yards. But, Ted, dear, why in the world did you have to try to take him in by yourself? Why didn't you come back to the house and telephone? Wait a minute. I remember. I stuck him in the back seat and took off. I started to pass out, pulled over on the shoulder. But, darling... Don't ask him why, Norman. You may as well get used to the fact that the guy just likes to do it the hard way. Monday at 9 o'clock, the Whistler will bring you another strange tale. The Whistler is broadcast for your entertainment by the marketers of Signal, gasoline and motor oil and fine-quality automotive accessories and by your neighborhood signal dealer. This program, directed by George W. Allen with tonight's story by Harold Swanton, music by Wilbur Hatch, is transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. This is Marvin Miller speaking and suggesting that you let every traffic signal remind you that you do go farther with Signal, gasoline. Yes, you do go farther with Signal, CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.