 Tired 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. It all started on the bus just outside of Dallas. The sailor would snort beside me since Memphis got off and the big fat guy got on. They overflowed into my half of the seat and for sound effect he ate one apple after another. He must have bought them for the sack. Hey fella, do you mind? My top coat? I'd like to have it pressed but I prefer a tailor to do it. I pulled the coat out from under him. He smashed my carton of cigarettes almost flat. From then on I held the coat in my lap. In my mind he was symbolic of everything connected with this trip and with my life. Second rate, middle class, mediocre. I was on my way to Hollywood. Yeah, I'm an actor. Under personal contract to Henry Slaff to a big director. Oh it sounds impressive but it isn't. It's one of those insignificant stock contracts with short options and shorter dough. I should have turned it down but I was flat broke on my heels. That's why when I found the money I did what I did. Okay folks, you're stopping here for 15 minutes. Another stop, chance to stretch. Now I had a cup of coffee and a spud nut in the depot and I was starting back to the bus when I saw him. My apple-chewing friend. Two men with cop written all over him were leading him out of the bus. It was a pinch. I wondered why they picked him up. I really didn't care why they took him as long as he didn't come back. Now I had the seat to myself. But he'd done me a final courtesy. He'd knocked my top coat onto the floor and walked on it. Then on into El Paso he was the topic of conversation. What the bus driver said, the man's a counter-fitter. One of the smartest ones in the country. The police have been after him for ages. Counter-fitter? How exciting! I must get off our back demand. Won't you be thrilled for me? Counter-fitter. Oh, that's the last thing I would have pegged him for. El Paso. And Hollywood's still 24 long hours away. Well, economy or no economy, I wasn't gonna go on. I was dead tired. Saddlesore from three days and nights on that bus. So I switched my ticket to the following day and I headed up a cheap hotel. The bellhop there was full of helpful ideas on how I could spend the evening. Well, uh, how about Juarez, mister? Juarez, huh? Mexico, just across the international bridge. Oh, yeah. I'd forgotten that this is a border town. No, no thanks. I just want to get some sleep. Sure, mister. It's up to you. I tipped the kid and stretched out on the bed. I dug in my pocket for a cigarette, but I was out. So I reached into my top coat for the carton. That's when I found it. A package of money. A lot of money. All in 50s and 100s. Nice, clean, fresh bills. I counted them fast. $15,000 worth. So that's why I found my coat on the floor of the bus. Fatso had stashed his homemade money in my pocket. Why, the lousy... I'd fix his wagon, planning it on me. Operator, give me the FB. Uh, no. No, never mind. Wait a minute. Why should I? If I turned it in, I might get involved and I couldn't afford to. When I got to Hollywood, I... Hollywood. Boy, what an entrance I could make into that town if all this dough were only real. I could just picture the look on Henry Slap to his face if I flew into Hollywood with a new wardrobe. Stopped at the ambassador, took a sweep, made a big splash. Yeah, if only the dough were real. Well, I couldn't sleep now. I was too stirred up, so I took a shower and changed my clothes and went out. I didn't have anything particular in mind, but since the hotel was near the International Bridge, I went over into Juarez. And I wasn't quite sure why I did it, but in my pocket was one of the $50 bills. I went up and down the cheap main drag, sampling tequila and brushing off vendors of hurracies and leather dolls, just like the rest of the tourists. But all the time that $50 bill was burning a hole in my pocket. It was in a small bar, a crummy place called El Serapi, that I finally took a chance. I'd had a couple of tequila daisies, and each time I'd given the waiter a half a buck. This time I handed him the $50 bill. I held my breath, and suddenly I knew I'd been a fool. He didn't put it in the cash registers, he had the other money, instead he went down to the end of the bar and handed it to a man sitting there, obviously an American. He took it, looked at it, and then had the waiter point me out. I got up out of the booth and started for the street, but the American caught me at the door. I'm Chuck Rice, I'm the manager. Yeah, hiya. You give this $50 bill to the waiter? Oh, yeah, I guess I forgot to wait for my change, huh? You don't want to go around forgetting money like this. Just visiting? Yeah, tourists. You know you're taking a big chance. You're setting yourself up like a pigeon. What are you talking about? What do you mean? I don't get excited, amigo. This is border town, and so the wrong people might get the idea that you're carrying more bills like this. Well, I'm not. Yeah, sure, sure. But if you were, I could put you in touch with most anything. Maybe a little gambling, we could fix you up with a little game. Anything you want to buy, I can get it for you. No, I don't want to buy anything. But I suppose I wanted to sell something. Sell? That's a little tough. I'd have to see a sample. You got it, mister, right there in your hand. I was taking a crazy chance, but I've kicked around Broadway long enough to know a contact man when I run into one, and Chuck Rice was definitely shady. He stood there scowling, turning the bill over and over in his hand. So that's why you wanted to walk out on your change, huh? Thought I had it spotted. You, uh, you got more like this? Yeah. No, I'm not that much of a pigeon. How much more? Enough. Maybe. With the right kind of a deal. Uh-uh. Here's your 50 back. I don't know for nothing about this kind of commodity. Well, I didn't pay for the drinks. All right, son of house. Your money's no good here. I took the 50 and put it in my pocket. I shrugged and hoped my indifference went over. I was almost to the street when he called after me. Hey, Amigo. I, uh, just wonder, how much you got? Why? You got enough. Maybe Nieves would be interested. Nieves? Who's Nieves? Down here we don't ask questions like that. You go to the cab stand on the corner, as for Miguel. Tell me you want to see Nieves. Tell him Chuck Rice sent you. Only this time, Amigo, if you want to do business, you better have the dough on you. Hey, I'm talking to you. What's the idea? You keep going around in circles. Dan Sabi, my foot. I want to go to Nieves. I'm going. Never mind the sightseeing. Miguel was driving down dark back alleys and dirt roads. I couldn't tell which direction we were going, and I'm sure that was the idea, but we were getting further and further out of town. I was beginning to wish I didn't have the money on me. I hadn't gone back to the hotel for it when Miguel suddenly pulled off the road into a ruddy gopher-hole courtyard of a broken-down Hacienda. It was littered with debris. I stumbled over a peg. His squeals woke a bunch of chickens roosting on a fence, and then I saw her. She was lying in a canvas hammock, one barefoot hanging over the side, deep in the enjoyment of an oversized cigarette. She seemed to sleep, except for the rhythmic pups' smoke. She never opened her eyes all the time I was there. Nieves? Chuck Rice sent me. He thought we might be able to work out a deal. I got some money. What? Chuck Rice said that you might handle it. You hear me? See? I got 15,000 dollars, American, in 50s and 100s. How much you want? Well, what'll you give me? How much? Well, I figure 5,000 would be fair. No touch. What? If that's all you want, I no touch. Why? Because it's hot. Well, if you think it's worth more. No touch. Okay, no touch. Come on, Miguel. Yes, sir. Sir? Yeah. A tool. How is that? A tool, maybe. A tool? Where's a tool? Yes, sir. Come, I will take you. And it did. As the crow flies, so did we. Straight to O'Toole's Dine and Dance. A gaudy tourist trap hypoed on the outside with neon signs advertising the best food and music in Juarez. While inside, five Latin beboppers were making hash out of Embraceable U. Miguel okayed me to a squint-eyed character who reluctantly led me down a hall, up a steep flight of stairs, we stopped in front of a door. There were desks that a handsome Chinese in a dinner jacket smoking a long black cigar. Ah, good evening. What can I do for you? A drink, perhaps? No, no thanks. I came to see O'Toole. Yes, I am O'Toole. You, O'Toole? There's one of those clicks of nature. I wear my mother's face and my father's name. Well, I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything. Well, thank nothing of it, Mr. Smith. Yeah, Smith. Now, you have something you wish to sell? That's right. May I see the money? Money? How did you know? Fifteen thousand dollars, as I understand it. How much do you want for it? Six thousand. You told Nievas. Why? Nievas? Oh, you're surprised I know about that. Chuck Rice always sends them out to the country to see Nievas before they come to meet. Now, let me see the money. All of it. Sure, here. Look, I'll take the five. I'll give you... Oh, no, wait a minute. There's fifteen thousand there. You won't have any trouble passing it in Mexico? I know that. I also know that when this kind of money turns up in this part of the wealth, it means only one thing. I am your last resort. Well, Mr. Smith? Yeah. Give me the four thousand. He went to the safe, got the money and paid me. I got out of his office. Well, maybe I should have held out for more, but he gave me the creeps. Besides, any way you look at it, four thousand's a lot of money. I could knock Henry Slap his eyes out with less than that. Downstairs in the club, the floor show was on, when a Dazio team was going through its calisthenics. I was just passing the bar when she bumped into me. Hello, Charlie. Ah, sure you're Charlie. You gotta be Charlie. Go on, beat it. Ah, come on. Don't be a sucker. We're being watched. Well, so what am I supposed to do? Be smart. Buy me a drink. Look, I'm not interested. Interested in getting out of here alive? What kind of a crack is that? You see, squint eyes over there by the entrance? Well, he's not the doorman. Come on, look. What's this all about? Oh, too. He wants back whatever it is he gave you. I'll buy you that drink. Make it scotch. Yeah. Uh, bartender. Two scotch and sodas. All right. Now tell me why you're interested. I'm supposed to knock you out. You're what? Those two drinks you just ordered. Yours will be loaded. And not with Romo coin on to cure your cold. Ever hear a knockout drops, tourist? Yeah, sure. But I don't get it. What are you telling me for? I don't know. Maybe because you're from my side of the border. Maybe because you don't look like the kind of scum that usually comes in this joint. All right. So my drink's going to be loaded. And squint eyes is over to the front door to make sure I don't get away. I don't have much choice, do I? Yeah, you do. I'm going to help you. Help me? After the drink hits you, I'm supposed to get you out the back door into the alley and then road you. Well, now that'll be a big help. But I'm not going to. Quiet. Here come the drinks. All right. What do I do now? When I reach around you for the ash tray, they won't be able to see you. Switch the drinks. You drink mine. Yeah, but how about you? They don't expect me to drink it. Yeah, but you do. Now switch them. Get it down. Drink it. In a minute, pretend you're dizzy. I'll help you get to the alley. And when you get there, you better run, brother, and run fast. Squint eyes had left the door and was coming toward the bar, so I did what she told me. After I'd gulped the drink down, I sat on the stool a couple of minutes, and I pretended to get dizzy. She helped me off the stool, put my arm around her shoulder. We were almost to the door, almost to the alley. It was just perfect, except for one thing. I was dizzy. My stomach turned over and over, and I passed out cold. In just a moment, we will continue with escape. But first, a lot's been said about the Sunday night entertainment on CBS and rightly so. But take a look down the CBS listings during the entire week, and you'll find there's no let-up in the parade of all-star shows. Tomorrow, Wednesday night, and every Wednesday night, Bing Crosby, Groucho Marks, Burns and Allen, and Gene Hirschholt as the beloved Dr. Christian are heard on most of these same CBS stations. Dick Hames and the Andrews sisters, Jack Smith and Dinah Shore are also on hand in their early evening quarter-hour programs. Make a habit of listening to CBS all through the week. And now we return you to the second act of Escape. The smells were the same. Beer, tequila, stale black tobacco. But the sound had changed. There'd been music before. My stomach burned and my head throbbed. Somebody was lying across me. I raised up, tried to focus my eyes, but I couldn't. Gradually, I placed the sound. It was some kind of a car, a bus, no, a truck. I was lying on the floor in the back of a truck and there was a man lying across me. From the stench of him he must have been drunk for a week, but from the inert way lay he could have been dead. I pushed him off and shook him. Hey, hey, hey. Where are we going? What is this? Hey, hey, come on. Wake up, will you? Listen to me. Then I suddenly remembered the money. The $4,000. It was gone. I was clean, broke. I'd been rolled all right and by Adema we'd been told me before she did it. Then I saw the rest of them. The truck was a big van and it was loaded packed with the drags aboard a town, a sodden human cargo. All of them filthy, bleary eyed, but one of them looked awake and reasonably sober. Hey, you, you over there? Yeah. You speak English? I see, senior. Well, what happened? What are we doing here? Oh, we all fall drunk, senior. Oh, it's no good to fall drunk. Oh, you go to Henslers. Henslers? Yes. What are you talking about? Oh, no, it's good. Oh, I have been there before. I should know not to fall drunk. Oh, one whole month I have been there. It's a little guy. It's my fail. You've been where before? Where are they taking us? Tell me. To Henslers? Oh, he's a very bad man. Henslers? Well, who's Hensler? Oh, you go to see, senior. You will see. And so I could get out of him. We were going to Henslers and it wouldn't be good. And it sounded like I was about to find out. Come on, the party's over. Make no bunch of daisies, but we'll make you a bloome, won't we, Miller? He was a brute of a man and he carried a 45 and a holster. He and the driver, Miller, heard of this out of the truck like so many cattle. It was some sort of a road gang. I saw a sign blocking the road that read under construction, Hensler Construction Company. Well, I had no idea where we were, how far away from the border the landscape was dry, dusty barren. Well, Gonzalez, you with us again? Didn't we learn you not to get drunk, huh? Come on, you guys, step on it. All right, quit shoving. Come on, come on. What are you doing here? Yeah, that's what I'd like to know. Tell you to be careful or you'll pick up. Now, wait a minute, Jake. Don't get served if I tell you. Don't you know we can get in plenty of trouble picking up the wrong guys? I didn't pick him up or tool through him in. Or tool. Shut up, you. Or tool will wish him on us for. Well, Hensler has already talked with Hensler. He says this fellow will not give us any trouble. He is an embezzler. The police are looking for him. Yeah, crazy. He came across the board at the sales of money he had stolen from a bank or something. He must be plenty hot. He was willing to drop 15,000 real though for 4,000 cash. Real dough? What are you talking about? That was counterfeit, I sold O'Toole. Listen, buddy, I don't know what your racket is, but nobody fools O'Toole about money. But it can't be real money. It was counterfeit, but I want to see Hensler. You talk to me or you talk to nobody. But I got to see Hensler. I got to get back to Juarez. Huh? Did you hear that, Miller? He's got to get back to Juarez. All right, look, you can't push me around. I'm an American. Oh, he's an American. Well, send this to your congressman. Okay, American, get on your feet. Get a pick and stop working. Hensler Construction Company, just another name for a chain game. I never saw Hensler. He wasn't there. But in the next week, I got to know Jake all right. I got to hate him. He drove us from dawn to dark, digging a road bed by hand, pick and shovel, in the hot sun, in the dust, without rest. But worse than the physical torture was the thought that gave me no rest. I'd sold O'Toole real money. For now, I realized I'd never really had any proof that the fat man was a counterfeiter. I just jumped to that conclusion. The bus driver... No, not the bus driver. A woman on the bus said that the bus driver said it, and it drove me crazy just thinking about it. Real money. $15,000. I'd had it in my hand and I'd thrown it away. I had to escape. I had to. There'd been a man in the truck who said he'd been here before, so he must have gotten away somehow. He could help me. You're the man that was here before. I am Gonzalez. All right, you got away the other time, didn't you? I see. But I am back. And this time I don't try to go. Well, how did you go? How'd you get out? There is a highway. There is where? Four miles, five miles. Many cars passed there. Just four or five miles. That's nothing. Oh. Maybe it sounds nothing to you, senor. But those are bad miles to go. Ooh, go right. Only four or five miles. Over that way, you told me. Through the ravine. Well, I thought about it all that day, and I planned that I'd try it that night. But when we got back to camp, I was too dog-tired even to eat, so I just flopped on the hard earth and fell asleep, seeing that I just closed my eyes when I was shaking awake. Hey. Huh? Hey. Get up, American. Get on your feet. Huh? And I got a little job for you. Oh, leave me alone, Jake. I'm tired. Get up! You're on overtime. It was murderously drunk. He had a bottle of whiskey in one hand and his 45 in the other, so I got up off the ground. All around me, the men were sleeping. If they heard him, they didn't pay any attention. He marched me down to the road and threw a pick at me. There. I'll start digging. But it's the middle of the night. Look, I'm dead. I've got to finish the road. Start digging, I said. What are you picking on me for, Jake? Why me? You're gonna start digging? Well, I start shooting. So I dug. I dug till my hands were bleeding and my lungs were scalded with the effort of breathing. He sat alongside the road knocking off that fifth of whiskey and writing me every time I faltered. He was just mean drunk enough to kill me if I stopped. So I dug and I dug. Finally, I couldn't go out anymore. I was too tired to care. I dropped the pick and fell onto the road. My face was in the dirt. I lay there panting, waiting for the bullet. When it didn't come, I turned my head in what I saw gave me new life. Jake was sprawled out dead drunk and the 45 had slipped from his hand onto the ground. It was my chance. I hardly had enough strength left to move but I knew if I didn't go then it would be too late. I'd never get away. I crawled over to him and I got the gun and somehow I got down the road and threw that ravine, stumbled and crawled those hideous miles of the highway. And then I heard it, way down the road. It was a car. I ran out like a madman and flagged it down. Monday instead? Give me a ride, will ya? Oh, you're an American, huh? Going back to the States? Yeah. Well hop in. I leaned back against the seat, shut my eyes and slept all the way into Juarez. Well, here you are. You said O'Toole's dying in dance. Sure I can't wait for ya? No, no, thanks just the same but I got some business to take care of. Okay. Good luck. $15,000 worth of business and Jake's 45 in my pocket to guarantee the deal. I went around to that back door and slipped in quietly and then crept down the hall and up the stairs that squint eyes had led me before. This time I entered O'Toole's office without knocking. Hello, O'Toole. Oh. I didn't expect you back so soon. Sit down. Can I get you something? Yeah, you can. $15,000. I'm afraid I don't understand. We made a deal... Why didn't you tell me the money was real, not counterfeit, huh? Well, you seem to know what you were doing and remember, you placed the value on the money. I did not. Yeah, well I've just revalued it. I wanted back all of it. We made a deal and I paid you and I'm through with you. And you rolled me. How you lost the money I paid you is no concern to me. All right, then look, then maybe this'll be some concern to you. I took enough punishment to get this gun not to hesitate to use it. I'm going to get the money while you're still alive. Huh. That won't be necessary. How about, uh, $10,000? Look, don't stall. $15,000. But I should be allowed to realize some profit. Hurry up, O'Toole. I haven't got all day. I'll have to open this. Then open it. Will you take it in tens and 20s? Now look, you, I don't care how you give it to me so long as it's American money. Now quit stalling and get it. I didn't trust him. I expected any minute he'd pull something fast, but he didn't. I never realized before the power of a gun. It makes short men tall and tall men strong. Here you are. Thanks. Now I could fly to Hollywood and have that suite at the ambassador and throw a cocktail party, a big party. I'd show him. First, I stopped at the best men shop in Juarez and got myself outfitted. An important English tweed suit, cashmere top coat, couple of dozen shirts, and I threw away my old clothes. There will be something else, sir. I'll take that alligator suitcase, too. Yes, sir. But you must remember when you go through customs you must declare the clothes you are wearing. I have to report this. Oh, sure, sure. Don't worry. And these neckties... Yes, sir. I paid him. It was more than I'd spent on clothes in ten years. I put $500 in my wallet and stashed the rest of the money away in my suitcase. Then I went to the American club for a good dinner. Now I was all set to make my entrance. All I needed was a plane reservation for Hollywood. I was just going through customs when he ran up. That is the man. He was the clerk from the men's shop gesturing wildly. The customs official listened and then he came back to me. I'm sorry, sir, but I have to detain you. What? Your wallet, if you please. Wait. I didn't buy the wallet from him. If you please, sir, give it to me. Okay, but it's just an American Hickok wallet, I tell you. I'm not interested in the wallet itself, sir. Now I shall say. There. You see? Did I not tell you? Look. Look, all of it. What are you guys doing with my money? But why? Because, mister, all the money in your wallet is counterfeit. Escape is produced and directed by William N. Robeson. Tonight we have presented Bordertown by John and Gwen Bagney. Featured in the cast were Jack Webb as Evan, Bill Conrad as Jake, Ben Wright as O'Toole, Tony Barrett as Rice, and Jeanette Nolan as Nieves. Also heard were Ted Dacorsia, Paul Fries, B. Benadaret, Jerry Hausner, and Harry Bartell. Special music was arranged and conducted by Del Castillo. Next week. You're on a train from Rajahore to Calcutta. With you is a fabulous jewel, the most sought after emerald in the world in whose depths are mirror terror and violence. And for you, there is no escape. It's a proven surefire formula for better living. If we all work together to produce more per man, per machine, per hour, we all move together toward the benefits in living that are possible only under the American economic system. The better we produce, the better we live. For your free copy of the booklet, Miracle of America, write box 10 Times Square Station, New York. Stay tuned now for Hit the Jackpot, which follows immediately over most of these stations. This is CBS, The Columbia Broadcasting System.