 The standard of California, on behalf of independent shepherd gas stations and standard stations throughout the West, invites you to let George do it. The perfect specimen. Another adventure of George Valentine. President, I'll notice. Danger is my stock and trade. If it's the kind of trouble you can't handle without confidential help, you've got a job for me, George Valentine. Rightful details. Dear Mr. Valentine, as a doctor, I've had to tell many people that they were doomed to die. Well, today I was told the same thing myself. I was even informed of the time and the method. All the facts were there, except who is going to kill me and why. I suppose I should go to the police, but they would only scare the killer off. Next time he may not be thoughtful enough to warn me. I don't know what you charge for a service like this. I don't know what you charge for a service like this, but whatever it is I'm willing and able to pay. My executioner hasn't allowed me much time. So you can understand I'm anxious that you meet me at my office as quickly as possible. Assigned Dr. Norman Penford. Here, Bruxy, is something that makes no sense at all. Well, how can you say that, George? A man expects to be murdered and the notion doesn't fill him with too much enthusiasm. I think that makes a lot of sense. It's the note within the note I'm talking about, Angel. Yeah, why did the so-called executioner announce the date of the event and apparently supply a blueprint of his intentions? Some kind of a newborn fool? Well, maybe he's so sure of himself he thinks he can't get caught. Now, that's the kind of self-confidence I like to see in people, Bruxy, except in murderers. What was the address of Dr. Penford's office again? Tell me, Dr. Penford, you're a surgeon, aren't you? Not a psychiatrist. That's right, Mr. Valentine. Why do you ask? For a very good reason. Uh, the note Dr. Penford got, uh, read it again, will you, Bruxy? Oh, yeah. Um, notice of execution. Time, Tuesday night. Place, wherever you'll be. Method, one unerring fatal shot. Executioner, someone who hates you very dearly. Guess who? Unsigned and typewriter. Yes, yes, I see what you mean. It does sound mad. Uh, Doctor, can you think of any patient who'd go this length because of, uh, well, some kind of a grudge? No, no, no. That's inconceivable. You know, this could be a crank note. Do you believe that, Miss Brux? No, somehow I don't. Okay, let's start from scratch, Doctor. Yes? Before I can do anything about this note, I've got to know something about you. Well, there's not much to tell. I have my regular hours at the hospital, and I see a few people here at my office, which is just a part of my home. It's really an eventful sort of grind, day in and day out, except... Yeah? Well, my son Eric is home from college for the summer. It makes this house a little brighter than usual. And your wife, Dr. Pen? I'm a widow, I'm Miss Brux. My wife died 21 years ago when Eric was born. Oh, I see. I suppose this picture on your desk is your wife's. What? This picture? Oh, oh, I should have put that away. Wonderful to think that Eric never resented it being there. Why should he? Well, you see, this was my first wife. Oh, we're learning more and more, aren't we, Doctor? I didn't even think of telling you about Jane. Oh, Doctor Penford, in a case like this, when you don't know anything, everything becomes important. What about your first wife? Jane and I were married less than two years. I haven't seen her since the divorce. The only reason I even know that she's still alive is that I send her an alimony check every month. I see. I met Eric's mother about a year later. I had a small practice in Kenton. That's a little mining town not far from here. All of which doesn't conjure up the figure of a crazed egotistical murderer. Yes, yes, I know, but as I said, my life has been rather humdrum. All right, Doctor, let me take it from there. From what I can read into this letter, I say that if the person who wrote it carries out his thread, it would be on Tuesday night as promised. That's right, Valentine. And you're hiring me to see that it doesn't come off as promised. If you can. Oh, Dad, Dad, I... Oh, sorry, I didn't know you had patience. Oh, not at all, Eric. These are two friends. Miss Brooks and Mr. Valentine and my son. Oh, Mr. Brooks was Valentine. I know I'm probably interrupting something, but look, Dad, how about doing the town with me tonight? We'll start with a country club, and then, well, who knows? Hey, Eric, I'm afraid not. Now, what do I have to do to make him come out of his shell? Dad imagines I have a score of debutantes just waiting to make an evening of it with me. The truth is, I... Dad did say Miss Brooks, didn't he? Is very worse. Well, then you might care to join me. Eric, oops, I didn't mean to go plowing through the bouncer for priority, but it seemed like an idea and inspired idea, Miss Brooks. Oh, I'm sure it would have been fun, Eric, but I have a few other ideas myself. Well, good try. Nice to have met you, Mr. Valentine. Now I'd better go out and shower. Six sets of tennis and this son is like a Turkish bath. See you later, Dad. Well, that's quite a hunk of man you've got for a son, Dr. Penfin. Isn't he, though? But we seem to have gotten off the subject. Tomorrow is Tuesday. You may be sure I haven't forgotten. You understand, Doctor. I'll have to go about this any way I see fit. Of course. So I'll be in touch with you then. We'd better get started, Brooks, see? I can't imagine why you're here, Mr. Valentine. I have only one interest in Norman Penford. The alimony check he sends me each month. Well, you're very frank to say the least, Mrs. Penford. Well, we thought if you knew he was in danger, you'd be glad to give us some facts about his past, that it might help him. Oh, I can give you a beautiful fact that will help you to understand Norman perfectly. Yeah. Just after our son was born, Norman left us. We haven't seen him since. But we just met Dr. Penford's son. He told us Eric was a child by his second marriage. Oh. He didn't mention anything about another son. It might have slipped his mind. Now, wait a minute. I want to get this straight. Please, Mr. Valentine, don't raise your voice. My son, Wesley, is working in the next room. He doesn't like to be disturbed while he's writing his book. Mother. Mother, who's there? Oh, no one, Wesley. Just some people. Friends of your father is a matter of fact. Mr. Valentine, don't go in that room. My father? What are you talking about? Certainly you should be interested in your father if he happens to be in danger. Wesley, I try to keep these people from disturbing you. My name is Valentine. This is Miss Brooks. How do you do? Forgive me if I don't get up. Now, about my father... How on? I don't feel I have one. As for his being in danger, Miss Brooks, you can understand my lack of concern. Yes, but... Now, get out, both of you. See? Now, you've upset him. Never mind the pen with me. I'll pick it up. Sorry. My father isn't really worth any such display of emotion on my part. Now, I would appreciate it if you left. Okay. That's the way you want it. I think you can find your own way out. I'm sure we can. That's what I call a beginning with all sorts of possibilities. Angel, I think this calls for some friendly cooperation for Lieutenant Riley. Fine, I'm a public servant. I have a deeper version to note to threaten murder, but why in the name of everything this holy didn'tist doctor come straight to me? Oh, now you're not going to pout, Lieutenant. George had slain all that. I can't take care of this thing myself, Lieutenant. It's a big, brown stone house with plenty of ways of getting in and out. And I only have two eyes. Oh, okay, okay. Oh, for the love of... Yeah, Riley speaking. Yeah, let me have it. Well, how long has this been going on? Nine months. 1,250 in cash every month? Yeah, I see. Okay, thanks a lot. Well, your hunch was right, Valentine. Dr. Penford's been drawing out $1,250 a month regularly for the last nine months and in cash. Wouldn't you say that smells slightly like blackmail? And a high heaven? You'll have those men, Valentine, five of my best men. And once Dr. Penford comes home from dinner tomorrow night, no one will get in or out of that place without us knowing it. Thank you, Lieutenant. Yeah. Oh, I'll shut up. George, you mean all we're going to do now is wait till tomorrow? Oh, no, Booksy, no. You've got a date tonight. Have I? Oh, how nice. With Eric Penford. Well, thank you. Change your mind and call me, Claire. Well, shall we call it a win, Eric? No. Well, shall we say I just wanted to see the country come? No. Shall we say a girl can't always admit how she feels with other people present? Then you wanted to be alone with me, and I didn't, you're Claire. Eric, let's go back inside and die. No. Please, my best. Something like this has ever happened to me before. You must know how beautiful you're looking now. Not unless I'm in prison. You probably think I'm just another college kid home for the summer. Maybe you don't take me seriously. Oh, I didn't say that, Eric. Then what do you have to say? Eric. Don't be afraid to fall in love with me. I can take care of you, Claire. There won't be any question of money. There. There won't. I don't even have to go back to college. I get $1,250 a month come rain and shine. Well, that's a lot of money. Where does it come from? No, that's not important, darling, but it'll always be there. I've taken care of that. What do you say, Claire? I don't know what to say. You've got to give me a few minutes to think it over. No, no, not with you around. That wouldn't be fair. Claire, darling. It won't be long. I have only a minute to talk. Go on. Eric just told me he gets $1,250 every month. The exact amount Dr. Penford takes out in cash from the bank. Yes. Well, that's a new one for the book, ain't you? A son blackmailing his own father. We'll return to tonight's adventure of George Valentine in just a moment. Meanwhile, a word about Priff. If upkeep for the family car has been putting too big a strain on your pocketbook, listen to this. It's a money-saving tip from Ben Franklin, a very real Ben Franklin, who's a printer and who lives in San Francisco, California. Here's what Mr. Franklin says about RPM motor oil. Quote, I changed to RPM in 1941 and haven't spent a nickel on engine repair since. Unquote. That's seven years without the need of engine repair. Try RPM motor oil starting tomorrow in your own car. RPM is compounded to keep your engine cleaner, to guard hot spots, to protect every inch of precision-made metal from its worst enemy, internal rust. No wonder this premium oil came out on top in a survey of western motorists, preferred two-to-one over any other motor oil. So for longer car life with more economy, switch to RPM motor oil tomorrow. Get it at standard stations and independent chevron gas stations, where they say and mean, we'll take better care of your car. Now back to tonight's adventure of George Valentine. Well, when a respectable doctor hires you to protect him against a threatened murder summed up in a tight-written note, you'd think after that your client wouldn't be likely to lie to you. But instead of the one-acknowledged son, you'd find there are two, and son number one is apparently blackmailing his own father for a fancy sum. So with time growing short, you make your way to the little mining town of Kenton. Mrs. Vichniowski, you've lived here in Kenton a long time. You remember Dr. Penford, don't you? Oh, good doctor. A very good man. Too bad he not stay here. Well, maybe you remember his wife. Was he happily married? Married? Plenty girls wanted to marry Dr. but he was no married man when he lived here. I don't know what's that, are you sure? Oh, yes, yes, very sure. Of course I remember Dr. Penford, Mr. Valentine. Would you have any idea why he left, Mrs. Hogan? Well, confidentially, it was the morning after Annie Pulaski died, after having her child. Oh? Yes. And the boy died still born too, Dr. Penford said. I'd swear that's what took the heart out of the poor man and made him live town. Oh, thank you, Mrs. Hogan. Never forget that night. Mr. Hogan and I lived next to the Pulaski's at the time. I remember a saying to each other when we heard the little one cry out in the night. Sure ain't it wonderful to hear the sound of new life coming into the world. I thought you said... I know, Mr. Valentine. The next morning Dr. Penford told us the baby didn't even live to breathe. Well, must have been our imagination. Yeah. Yeah, it must have been. Oh, I assure you, Mr. Valentine, no marriage license has ever been issued to Dr. Norman Penford. Not here in Kenton. Our records are very complete. I see. And you're also sure there's never been an adverse certificate for an Eric Penford? Well, if there were, we'd have it here, yes, indeed. Any other information? Yeah. When's the next train back to town? Penford, let's stop kidding each other. What do you mean? You've hired me to keep you from getting killed tonight. There's only a few hours before sundown and you still want to go along with those lies, you're told me. Lies? Such as Eric being your son. You know that's a lot. What? Well, how do you know that? You never even had a second wife, Dr. Valentine. Oh, yes, you gave me nothing to work on, so I had to find out these interesting little details for myself. Those couple of years you spent in Kenton told me a lot. Now, just who is Eric? I... Is he the son of Annie Pulaski? Well, Doctor, you left suddenly the next day. All right, Valentine, I took the child. It was wrong, but think of the things that I gave him. He never wanted for anything. What would he have had in Kenton? Life in an orphanage? And then facing a world that was against him every inch of the way? Oh, no, I saved him from all that. Yes, he has very fine motives, Doctor. He took a boy who wasn't your own, called him your son, gave him every opportunity. Still, you haven't seen a spoken to your real son for more than 20 years. Wesley, what do you know about him? Just something else I found out. Oh, well, the truth is, Valentine, I never thought of Wesley as my son. He belonged to his mother. And I left it that way. And then when I thought I could have a son like Eric, I couldn't resist the temptation. He's repaying you beautifully, isn't he? What's that? He's holding you up, isn't he, Doctor Panford? He knows he's not your son. Oh, there were so many lies to tell, and he kept digging and probing it. It had to come out at last. $1,250 a month. Why don't you go and tell him where to head in? Oh, it's not that easy, Valentine. I boasted that boy all his life. How strong and tall and beautiful he is. You just don't let a truth like this come to life all of a sudden. All right, all right, we got that all straight. Now, how does it tie up with that note? It doesn't. It has nothing to do with it. That could be another lie, Doctor. But it isn't, Valentine. This thing between Eric and me is entirely personal. I'll never admit to another living soul that he's been blackmailing me. And about tonight, all I know is what I told you, and I need your help. You wouldn't walk out on me now, would you? No, no, tonight you're going to get every protection a man can expect. But tomorrow morning, get yourself another boy or talk it out with the police. Thanks, Valentine. I'm just worried about tonight. Not still working, Dad. You ought to take a little time off. Oh, hello, Valentine. I swell swimming at the pool today. I couldn't find anybody to give me any real competition. You never can. I understand, Eric, that you're also on the boxing team of the college. Oh, it's nothing. I just happen to have a left jab that seems to hit in the right place, the right time. You mean something like this? What are you trying to do? Maybe a right cross, like this jab. Mr. Valentine! Dad, what are you trying to do? What's happening here? That, Eric, was to make up for all the times your dad didn't take you across his knees. Don't worry about tonight, Doctor. I'll be around. How are you doing, Valentine? Ah, the good Lieutenant Riley. This makes this quite an occasion. Oh, I just wanted to make sure you were happy with our service. If you were displeased, you know, you might decide not to put your confidence in the police department again. The subtlery of your sarcasm, Lieutenant, is a beautiful thing. By kidding aside, the way you've got your men planted, I can't see how anybody can get in that house without being seen. Oh, it's nothing. It's just a little trick I learned after more than twenty years on the force. I even have Hennessy trailing Penford to his restaurant. Oh, I didn't miss that either. Thanks. I told the doctor to accept no calls and hold up for the night. Once he's inside, he's as good as sealed up. Nobody will be able to get at him. Well, if you want me, I'll be hanging around for a while in the patrol car down the street. Here you are, George. Here's a sample of all the letters on Dr. Penford's typewriter. Good, good. Let's get over here under the street lamp. Oh, hey, wait a minute, George. Isn't that the doctor coming home now? Is that you, Valentine? Yes, we met before, remember, Doctor? Oh, I guess my mind was wondering. Good work. You don't know what a difference it makes to know that you're on the job. Good night. George, Dr. Penford didn't seem himself at all. He's always so careful and precise in his manner. Well, in his place, how would you feel on a night like this, Angel? Come on, let's get back under that street lamp. That's the threatening note Dr. Penford received. I thought that's why you wanted me to use his typewriter. I like this proxy. The E's are all the same. And the broken corner on the W's and the O's slightly higher than the rest of the line. Eric, he would have had access to the typewriter. No time for guessing games. I've got to get to the lieutenant. Yes. Sorry to disturb you, Lieutenant. Something new has been added. What, sir? The note Dr. Penford received was written on his own typewriter. What are you talking about? Stay parked right here where you are, Miller. I'll be right back. Yes, sir. Come on, Lieutenant. We'd better talk to Penford. And fast. There's a light in his office. Let's have a look at him. I can still feel his pulse. His books get on the phone. Call an ambulance. Okay. I don't see any gun around, Lieutenant, but he was shot. Oh, that's impossible, Valentine. Nobody could have come in this house without a scene. And I know he was all right a few minutes ago when we talked to him. I don't like repeating myself, but this is impossible. Still it happened. I'm all right now, Lieutenant. Doctor, for the love of heaven, what made you do a thing like that to yourself? You guessed it. Didn't you, Valentine? How? Well, Lieutenant here kept saying impossible. No one could have gotten in to shoot you. So I accepted that simple fact. It was impossible. And that only left you, Doctor. And I thought there couldn't possibly be a flaw. You were shot before you arrived at the house. That's why you were so vague about things, so anxious to get inside. Doctor, how did you know you weren't just going to drop dead in the street? Well, I was pretty sure. If a doctor thinks about it long enough, he can find a way of shooting himself and still have a reprieve from death for an hour or so. Why? I shot myself just under the ribs, upward, toward the liver. Then I got rid of the gun. The bleeding, you see, would be internal. And I knew with enough effort I could make my way home. And the verdict would be murder, Doctor. Isn't that why you hired me in the first place? Yes. Look, Doctor, I know this isn't the time for a lot of questions, but I still want to know why you did it. Insurance, Lieutenant. They wouldn't pay off on suicide. They would on murder. It was very important that somebody get that money to make up for, oh, so many, many things. It may have seemed as simple as that to you, Doctor Panford, but it was all wrong. The only way you could have made it up to your son was to be alive. My son, he probably wishes me dead. You can't blame him. I don't think any of us can understand what really is going on in Westie's mind. I'm just a simple cop, Doctor, but if you loved your son so much, why did you ever leave him? Why all this business with Eric, who isn't even your own flesh and blood? Let's just say it's a way a man thinks sometimes when he doesn't know any better. Oh, George, you're here. Is it all right to come in? Yeah, come on in, Proceed. Maybe now you can understand how your son feels, Doctor Panford. Westie. Yes, Father? You... you cared enough to come. I wanted you to know I'm glad it didn't work out the way you planned. I... I left you and your mother when you needed me most. How can you forgive me? How can you ever understand that? Isn't as difficult as you think, Father. It's just like when I sit down to write, I want things I say to come out beautiful. Wait, don't I feel ashamed and want to run away? You must have felt like that when I was born. Oh, uh... What is it, Westie? Would it be all right if I could be alone with my father? Huh? Well, of course you'd mind sure. Thank you. Mr. Valentine, would you wheel me over to his bed? Hey, you know, Bruxy, it's strange the things you don't think of when you're on a case. What do you mean, darling? Well, when we first saw Wesley, for instance, remember how he pardoned himself for not getting up on the desk when we came in? Then when he dropped his pen, how his mother rushed to pick it up for him so he wouldn't have to move? Strange the things you can't possibly think of, or even imagine. I mean, a father feeling that way about a crippled child. Well, it's not an easy thing to justify, Angela. I suppose it's as Dr. Penford himself put it. It's the way a man thinks sometimes when he doesn't know any better. Yes, and when you pin all your faith on a perfect physical specimen like Eric and it turns out to be a gold-plated heel, you begin to wonder what you've done with your life. Then you dream up a last desperate scheme to undo a terrible wrong. I wonder if it's possible for the Penfords to find any real happiness after all these years. Well, it looks that way, Bruxy, if you can believe this note I just got. It winds up, thanks for everything, signed Norman, Jane and Wesley. It's the second day of your vacation, and you're all set for some more happy motoring miles. But your car isn't feeble battery, or maybe just a plain dead battery. To avoid such a bleak moment, better get preventive service before you start out at your independent chevron gas station or standard station. They'll be glad to test the battery's water level terminal cables. If it's a new battery you need to assure instant starts wherever you motor, they have a quality Atlas that's made exactly for your make and model of car. On Atlas batteries you'll find certified power capacity embossed where you can read it. Certified power that exceeds the requirements of the Society of Automotive Engineers. Atlas batteries for passenger cars are warranted for 21 months or more. So don't wait for your car's battery to let you down flat and unexpectedly. Get superior battery service tomorrow at a standard station or independent chevron gas station where they say and mean we'll take better care of your car. Next week when you tune our way for another adventure of George Valentine you'll hear or if against a remarkably agile ghost brooksy, I get tapped on the head twice before I could even turn on a light. But where did this thing go? It couldn't get out. All I know is somebody tried to give me the same kind of scalp massage that late Mr. Mitchell got. Oh what goes on here? I don't know brooksy, I don't know. But we're not leaving this haunted Victorian nest until we find the answer to that very pertinent question. Tonight's adventure of George Valentine has been brought to you by Standard of California on behalf of independent chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the west. Let George do it stars Robert Bailey as George with Francis Robinson as player. Wally Mayer appears as Lieutenant Riley. Tonight's story was written by David Victor and Herbert Little Jr. and directed by Don Clark. Also heard in the cast were Herbert Rawlinson as Dr. Pemford, Hi-Apoback as Eric, Noreen Gamill as Mrs. Pemford, Don Diamond as Wesley, and Martha Wentworth as Mrs. Hogan. The music is composed and conducted by Eddie Dunstead. Your announcer, John Easton. Listen again next week same time, same station to let George do it. This is the Mutual Don Lee Broadcasting System.