 Hired of the everyday routine? Ever dream of a life of romantic adventure? Want to get away from it all? We offer you... Escape! Escape! Designed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure. Tonight, we escape to the island of Palota in the South Seas and an exciting tale of the strangest bargain ever made as we bring you Letter from Jason, adapted from George F. Ward's famous story, Sunk. No, John. My mind's made up and all your eloquence won't change it. You'll understand why when you hear this letter I got today. A Letter from Jason. Yes, at last. Listen to this, John. Dearest Ellen, he writes, After the terrible things I did and said to you that last night, there seemed to me to be only one way out. I had failed you as a husband. I had failed the baby as a father. There wasn't anything I hadn't failed at, excepting booze. I was a great success in a saloon, but this is no news to you. You might, however, be interested in what happened after I walked out on you that night. Well, actually, I don't remember much of the night, but the next morning when I woke up in a rooming house south of the slot, I remembered enough. I knew I couldn't go back and I didn't see any point of going on, but I even failed as a suicide. Somebody smelled gas and called the police. When I came to and the receiving hospital, Uncle Jeffrey was there. Well, Jason, you sunk pretty low. Oh, go away and leave me alone. You must have been drunk to find the courage to try suicide. I don't ever really get drunk anymore. I just drink. That's scary news. What about your wife and child? You're suddenly very solicitous. No, I never approved of your marriage, but you're still my brother's son. Why did you try to do this? Money. A couple of other things, but money principally. Your father left you plenty of money too much for your own good. Now, that's gone. Of course it's gone. I'm over my ears and dead. How much do you owe? More than I could pay back in a year and some of them won't wait. There's a bookie in Sacramento Street. How much? More than $3,000. Why didn't you come to me for it? Did you have given it to me? You know I wouldn't. You're getting a big kick out of this, aren't you, Uncle? Get out. Get out. Jason, you misunderstand me. I didn't come here for fun. I came on business. What? Yes, I came to offer you a job. Oh, it's funny. That's a great big laugh. No, no, I'm serious. On the way over here, I did a lot of thinking. Since you're ready to die anyway, perhaps I can arrange it in a way to provide for your wife and child. Yes, and pay your debts. Oh. You know where I spent my youth? Yes. Poaching pearls in the South Seas with my father. Really, Jason? That's an ungrateful conclusion and unkind to the memory of your father. We were traders, honest traders. But there were others not so honest. There were killers down there in those days. There's one in particular who crossed me several times and is still alive. His name is Jake Finch. What the devil are you talking about? A business, dear Jason. I want Jake Finch killed. Since your life doesn't mean anything to you, you might as well take the job. Me? Kill him then? That's right. This morning you tried to kill yourself for nothing. I'm offering you a chance to kill and be paid for it. How much? Your debts. And $25,000 to your wife after Finch is dead. That's a lot of money. It's worth it to me to see Finch dead. Well... And after I've killed him, what then? Ellen is provided for. And me? We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Where is this man? He lives on the island of Palota, three weeks' sale from Tahiti. How romantic. Not at all. He's a dangerous, treacherous killer. You're going to have to meet him face to face. He's lived too long to be caught off guard. What makes you think I'll have the guts to kill him? I'll be along to see that you do. What? Yes. And to see that my name is not connected with the matter. If you kill him, it will be in self-defense. So I've sunk pretty low. Have I, Uncle? What about you? That's neither here nor there. Do you want the job? No. But I'll take it for Ellen's sake. Yes, John, I know it sounds incredible, but don't be so hasty in your judgment. The letter from Jason goes on. I suppose if I hadn't been foggy with booze and gas fumes, I would never have accepted such a dreadful proposition, even though it meant security for you. But once I agreed, Uncle Jeffrey wasted no time. He paid my debt and sent you that $1,000 check as an advance on my murder fee. And in less than 24 hours, we were slipping through the Golden Gate bound for Tahiti. It wasn't any different aboard ship. They have Bars 2 and wonderful brandy, French cognac. I was really enjoying life. A cruise to the South Seas, all expenses paid. And then the fourth day out, Uncle Jeffrey came into my cabin as I was breakfasting on a brandy milk. Good morning, Uncle. Everything ship-shaped topside? Jason, it's time we got down to business. Oh, sure. Sure, anything you say. Do you understand what I'm saying? Sure, go ahead, Uncle. Here, you better get used to the feel of this. A gun? Is it loaded? Naturally. Pick it up. It's heavy. Yes, it's a .45. Tear a hole in a man the size of a silver dollar. Never held a gun in my hand before. Aim it there at your reflection in the mirror. What's the matter, Jason? Your hand's shaking. You're perspiring. I can't. I can't. You must. Remember, if you want your wife to get that money, you'll have to kill Jake Finch, not just try to kill him. I, uh, I need a drink. I need a drink bad. Poor mixed up, Jason. That was his solution for every problem, his answer to every challenge. I need a drink. He goes on to say, we arrived in Papiati, in Tahiti, on a Wednesday afternoon, but Uncle Jeffrey was in a hurry. He had chartered an island schooner, the Lorelei, and she was to sail at dawn the next morning for Palota and Jake Finch. But at least I would have one evening ashore and I intended to have it alone. Well, uh, see you later, Uncle Jeffrey. Where you going? Sightseeing, one enchanted evening, that sort of thing. Now you wait till I get this luggage transferred to the schooner and I'll go with you. That's the matter. You afraid I'm gonna get drunk? I know you are. That's why you're wrong. I gotta stop some time. I made up my mind I couldn't. We got to Tahiti, so I quit. I don't believe you. You're drunk right now. That's what you think. I'm not drunk, Uncle Jeffrey. I'm sick. I'm sick of the sight of you. We still have a long way to go together. I know. Let's understand each other right now. I hate your guts. It's perfectly clear that you hate mine. I made a bargain with you. I'll go through with it for Ellen's sake. What for her? I'd use that gun on you instead of Jake Finch. Good. I'm glad that we understand each other so clearly. I'll see you later. Be aboard the Laura Lie at Midnight. Don't worry. I'll be there. I'm sure you will, Jason. Poppy 80, the letter goes on, is not the South Sea paradise we dream of back home. Unpaved streets, miserable natives, provincial French colonists, but plenty of bars. I avoided them. I headed for the big hotel and a table on the terrace. Take away the palm trees and the French accent, and it was about as exotic as the commercial house in Sioux City. Monsieur Desir, quelque chose à boire? What did you say? Oh, je m'excuse. Would Monsieur like something to drink, an aperitif, perhaps? Ces anneaux? Du bonnet? Oh, no. No, thank you. Just tea. Garçon! Oui, Monsieur. My check, please. Tout de suite, Monsieur. You know, that tea, that's pretty vile stuff. Was there something wrong, Monsieur? It is the very best oolong. Oh, no. I guess it was all right for tea. Oui, Monsieur. Voilà, Monsieur. Here you are. I keep the change. Oh, merci beaucoup. Oh, say, tell me, what's a good place for dinner? Oh, ici, Monsieur. The hotel has the best cuisine in papier-tê. But it's a little quiet, don't you think? Peut-être. Then I should commend Monsieur to chez Tante Marguerite or the Southern Cross. At the Southern Cross, there are the girls. Ah. Then I'll go to Marguerite. And with the dinner, Monsieur desires to drink? Water. Water? Just water. But, if Monsieur will permit, we have a proverb in my native Normandy. Repasse en vin, et comme un jour sans soleil. I'm sorry. I don't understand French that well. A meal without wine is like a day without sun. Oh, and surely with the cuisine of Tante Marguerite, one must not drink just water. Besides, the water in papier-tê is not safe. I myself have lived here more than 20 years and never have I tasted the papier-tê water. Oh, no, no, no. I would recommend wine, Monsieur. I urge it. With the langoust, a dry sauter, Monsieur. Oh, well. Well, very well. A small bottle, then. Monsieur has eaten well. Oh, yes. Thank you. And now perhaps liquor? No. No. I really don't. Oh, permit me to offer it, Monsieur, as you say, on the house. Well, no, that isn't... Poitreau, chartreuse, cognac. Ah, cognac. Oh, it's an excellent dinner, Madame. An excellent liqueur and the world begins to look all right again. Of course it does, Monsieur. Of course it does. Oh, now, Madame, tell me. You know of a place here in papier-tê called the Southern Cross? And who does not, Monsieur? Tell me how to get there, will you? Yes, Monsieur. You like maybe something, huh? Oh, yeah. Another cognac. Oh, yes, sir. You like cognac, Monsieur. Help yourself. Oh, sure. I like it. That's the best thing the French do, is make cognac. Oh, look out. You spilling it. I'm trying, I do. Can't you see I'm trying to hold it steady? Why can't I hold it steady? Yeah, it's like the gun. I can't hold the gun steady either. How can I shoot straight if I don't hold it steady? Well, let's say whiskey, gun. You can't go steady with both. You go steady with me. Hmm? Oh, hmm. Well, hello, baby. You are alone, huh? Yeah, I'm alone. It is not good to be alone too much. No, I don't mind. You like me to keep you company. I don't mind. You have cigarettes for me. Yeah, sure. Hey, mate, what's the big idea of knowing this lady? I know it. What do you mean, this little... Watch your language. Ah, look, care, I'm sitting here minding my own business. Now your mind and mine are scram. Well, I got as much right as... Are you looking for trouble? Well, no. But it seems to me you are... Hey, you little jerk. Okay, boys, carry him out. Nice work, sister. Here's your hundred francs. Thank you, Captain Steve. You want me to make... change? Eh, not now. Some other time. I got work to do now. I know, John. It's the same old pattern. How well I know it. The promises and the failures. Anything could start him slipping. A glass of wine. The brandy sauce on the mince pie. Yes, or the sniff of the cork, if you like. But listen to Jason's letter. He goes on... The next thing I knew, I was in a narrow bed in a creaking, rocking room and I didn't feel well, darling. Not well at all. I had the world's worst hangover. Good morning, Jason. Oh, Uncle Jeffrey, where am I? Bored the loyal eye. Five hours out of peppy eat take. Oh. Bad night? Yeah, I guess so. Looks like you were in a fight. I was. I don't remember anything afterward. How'd I get on board? You were delivered at my instruction. What do you mean? My captain brought you aboard. I want you to meet him. Captain? Yes, Mr. Sheldon? Come in. I want you to meet my nephew, Jason Torrance. How do you do, sir? Why, you... I've already met Uncle Issaman who knocked me out. I know, according to my instructions. That'll be all, Captain. Yes, sir. Well, you're a... Save your breath, Jason. You're the dirtiest. Your head will only ache more if you get excited. I'm not trying to hide anything from you. Captain Steve was a tough guy, but not nearly as tough. Not half as quick or strong or hard to kill as Jake Finch. And he tells me you never even hit back. Object lesson, huh? That's right. It already cost me a lot of money, and I want my money's worth. You're no good to me, drunk. Or to yourself. Or to your wife and child. I suppose you'd have gotten in a real brawl in that saloon last night. Well, you could have been killed. And where would your wife and kid be? But believe me, I won't pay off until you kill Jake Finch. I do believe you. I believe you'd let Ellen and the kids starve before you'd help them. I would, Jason. You can be sure of that. Unless you kill Jake Finch. All right, Uncle. I'm on the wagon from now on. It's easy to say. When you're still going on last night's booze. I may not have taken my last drink. I wonder, Jason. I wonder. After he had left the cabin with that sneer on his face, Jason writes, I lay there hopeless and nearly helpless. For I knew now if I was to be helped at all I would have to help myself. So I pulled my aching frame out of the bunk and head throbbing and tongue thick. I climbed up onto the deck and faced the captain. Well, Mr. Torrance, you had a nice long nap, huh? Yeah, thanks to you. You got any work for me? Work? Yeah. You know, something to do. I want to get busy. Well, now, there's always work aboard a sailing vessel. Know how to wholly stone a deck? Does it take a college degree? No. But you'll need something else. Muscles and guts. Who said it gets easier day by day? Jason writes, it didn't for me. I was stiff and sore from using muscles that had never been used before. And the only thing I wanted was a drink. Just one drink to ease the pain. But I knew I'd never stop with one. It got tighter and tighter inside me and there had to be a breaking point. And then on the 10th day out, the captain sent me up to secure a block on the main mast. The sea was kicking up a little and when I was 15 feet above the deck, the schooner lurched suddenly. I lost my grip and fell. I grabbed at the shroud and bit into the skin of my palms and I hit the deck and lay there for a moment shaking with fear, knowing that this was the end of my fight. And I got to my feet, ran down to the galley where I knew the captain kept his brandy. Ah, having a little nip, Jason. Yes! I'm through. With your rotten bargain, your Jake Finch and your... Through with Ellen and the baby. Through with keeping your word. Back where you started from. A gas-filled room trying to commit suicide. Well, go ahead. What are you waiting for? You've got the bottle in your hand. Go ahead. Take your drink. Shut up. Just remember, Jason, one drink will finish you. Jake Finch will kill you and Ellen won't get the money. I'm a businessman, Jason. I made a bargain. Don't think I'm going to renege. I didn't want you to marry Ellen in the first place. Remember, she won't get a penny for me when you die. Remember that. Be careful, Jason. You're trembling so you might drop the bottle. Maybe you do need a drink, Jason. Take it over. It's an easy way out. And I won't embarrass you by staying and watching. Murderer! You dirty... I won't touch it, Rick. I won't touch it. I'll show you. I'll show you. And then suddenly it grew a little easier. Not taking that drink was the turning point, I guess. The crying out inside. The need for liquor grew slowly quieter. My muscles began to toughen. My whole body began to feel better, more alive. And the first time in years, I enjoyed eating. And I was learning to be a pretty good sailor. I began to get a kick out of the neat way the schooner handled the clean feeling of the sea air, the wonder of just feeling good. And with this change, I slowly began to realize what kind of a bargain I had made. I didn't want to kill anyone. No, not for any reason. Not now, when I felt sure I could start my life over again. You've made a bargain and you'll stick to it. I'm not the same now. I'm in good health. I'm strong. I can get a job and really take care of Ellen and the baby. You should have thought of that before. Well, I'm thinking about it now. I can't just deliberately go out and kill a man. I'm not going to go through with it. All right, we anchor at Palota tomorrow. If you refuse to carry out your end of our bargain, I'll put you off the schooner and leave you there. You won't see a ship for more than six months. And when it does come, you'll have sunk lower than you've ever been. You won't have passage money back to San Francisco. You'll die in Palota, and Ellen won't see a penny of that $25,000. You'll do that in a second. But I'll pay you back the money you lent me. I'm not interested in that. I want Finch killed. Believe me, he has it coming to him. I don't care what he's done to you. I'm not going to go through with it. Not only what he's done to me, Jason. I didn't want to tell you before. I never told you how your father died. No, you never did. Jake Finch killed him, Jason. Jake Finch killed your father. Jason's letter continues. So you see, Ellen, what a diabolically clever scoundrel Uncle Jeffrey is. The last straw was that stuff about my father. I don't know whether he's lying or not, but it just might be true. And so this man who is playing God with my life has added the final motive for murder, vengeance. We're approaching the island of Palota now, Ellen, and I have no other course but to find Jake Finch and kill him or be killed by him. What a crying shame that I couldn't have found myself before this, for I know now what a wonderful life we might have had together. I hope you will find it with someone else, for you deserve better than I ever gave you. We're dropping anchor now, and I must go. Well, there she is, Jason, Palota, one of the loveliest islands in the Pacific. A perfect setting for a murder. Yes, isn't it? Feel up to it? Don't worry about me. What do I find Finch? Everybody on the island knows him. Anyone can tell you where to find him, try the traitors or the bar. Good luck. Aren't you coming? Oh, no. Remember? I don't want to be connected with Jake Finch's death in any way. It's your affair now, not mine. Yellow all the way through, aren't you, Uncle? Yellow and rich enough to hire thugs and murderers to do your dirty work. I ought to kill you instead of Finch. Dang it right in, Mr. Tower. I'm coming, Captain. Kill Finch first, Jason, then you have my permission to kill me. Good day to you, sir. Good day. Put in for supplies, haven't you? No, no. Well, we've got everything a trim little schooner like yours would be needing. Look, can you tell me where I can find Jake Finch? Jake Finch? What do you want with him? Well, that's my business. Where is he? I couldn't say exactly. He might be down on the beach this time of day. Thank you. Our friend. Who, me? Yeah, you. Well, I wasn't sure. He ain't been called friend in 20 years. What can I do for you, stranger? I'm looking for Jake Finch. Well, don't look at me. I ain't him. Where can I find him? Look here, mister. If this is your idea of a joke, it ain't funny to me. I'm sorry. I'm simply looking for Jake Finch. Well, look somewhere else. Look for him in a bar. That's the likeliest place to find Jake Finch. Yes, sir. What'll it be? I got the finest brandy on the island. Four years old, it is. No, thank you. I'm looking for someone, but the place seems to be empty. Who are you looking for? Jake Finch. Jake Finch? What do you want with him? I've got business with him. What kind of business? He inherited a million dollars or something? No. But I want to settle a debt with him. Okay, mister. He's in the back room. This way. There he is. That old bum? Yeah. Sleeping it off. Been there since I closed up last night. Jake Finch? This can't be Jake Finch. Yes, one of them. There's more down on the beach. Kicking around town. What are you talking about? There's at least a dozen Jake Finches here on Palota. A dozen? Hey, look, somebody's been kidding you, mister. Don't you know? Jake Finch is the name we give any rumbum here on Palota. They spend their last penny here in the bar and sleep it off on the beach. Drink, mister. All the Jake Finches drink themselves to death. Jake Finch. Me. All along, the Jake Finch he wanted to kill was in me. Hey, where are you going? I, uh... I've got an apology to make. You look like you need a drink. How about one for the road, huh? No thanks. I, uh... I don't drink. There it is, John. That's my letter from Jason. You understand now, don't you? Why, I'm asking you as my attorney to stop my divorce action immediately. I cabled Jason this morning that I'm waiting for him to come home. Escape is produced and directed by William N. Robeson. Tonight we have presented Letter from Jason, adapted by Celie Glester, Mervyn Gerard, and Mr. Robeson, from Sunk by George F. Wartz. Featured in the cast were Frank Lovejoy as Jason, Will Gehr as Jeff, and K. Brinker as Ellen. Special music was arranged and conducted by Del Castillo. Next week... You are lying on a small knoll in the prairie west of the Platte River. In a few moments, dawn will herald the attack of the encircling Apaches, an attack of such fury that for you there can be no escape. Next week we escape with an exciting tale of the Old West, as James Warner Bella tells it in his thrilling story, Command. Pardon me, Mr. LeMond. I'd like some information. It's Gracie Allen. Can you tell me who that young man was with a wonderful deep voice? Well, yes, that's Paul Freese. Well, I'd love to meet him. That'll be easy. Paul, this is Gracie Allen. Gracie, this is Paul Freese. Hello, Gracie. Or should I call you Mrs. George Burns? Well, yes, you should. You see, I've been Mrs. Burns ever since that day when a certain tall handsome man came along and pronounced George and me man and wife. I see. That's George I've come to talk to you about. You have such a beautiful voice yourself, so I thought if you let him sing on this program, our sponsor will hear him and realize how great he is. Then he'll let him sing on our program Wednesday nights. Well, Gracie, this is not a musical program. This is escape. Well, George can make your program more popular. When he sings, everybody will be looking for escape. I'm sorry, Gracie. I'll have to turn you down. Oh, well, goodbye, Mr. Freese. You are a cold man. Goodbye, Gracie. Be sure to listen next week, same time when once again we offer you escape. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.