 In just a moment, suspense with William Powell. Oh, Hap, here comes Harlow Wilcox. Oh, Betty forgets I already have two sets of auto-light-resistant spark plugs and tries to high-pressure me into buying another one. Well, hello there, friends. Hello, Mr. Wilcox. Hey, Hap, you look a little worried. Car not running right, maybe? Why? Spark plug trouble? Not at all. Ah, listen, pal, what you need is a set of those sensational new ignition engineer at auto-light-resistant spark plugs. But Harlow... Get up and go. A spark weary engine gets from auto-light-resistant spark plugs will turn your gloom to glee. Look, Harlow, I already have. Why? When you replace your old narrow-gap spark plugs with wide-gap auto-light-resistant spark plugs, by Cornelius, you can actually tell the difference in your car. Your engine idle smoother. Harlow, Harlow, wait a minute. I'll listen to you and my engine later, but... Yes, but right now, let's listen to suspense. Suspends and 60,000 dealers and service stations bring you radio's outstanding theater of thrills. Starring tonight, William Powell, in Anton Leader's production of Give Me Liberty. The tale well-calculated to keep you in suspense. I embezzled a quarter of a million dollars. I want you to know that needed brains. Planning. Patience. I devoted three years of my life to the trick, and I got away with it. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Of course, they caught me very easily, but they couldn't find the money. So they handcuffed me, brought me back to stand trial. The judge was as big a fool as the others. Seven years is a long time, Mr. French. The insurance company will agree to a much lighter sentence if you will reveal where you've hidden that money. But I only smiled. So my right wrist was handcuffed to the left wrist of a detective, and they put me aboard a train bound for the penitentiary. I could see that the detective had instructions to soften me up. He was much, much too kind. You're comfortable, Mr. French? You want a magazine? Anything? Well, I like to be able to lift my hand without raising yours into the air. Can't you guard me without being quite so attached to me? Sure, I guess we can work that out. Tell you what, you sit next to the window. I'll kind of box you in, and that way you can wear the cuffs all by yourself, and nobody loses. Thank you. Let me get my keys. There. Off for me. How do you? Wonder if I've made a good change. Feels clumsy. Oh, you get the hang of it in no time at all. The biggest trouble is when you read a paper. Five inches of chain don't give you much room to turn a page. And I'd better leave the newspaper for a less constricting occasion. I'll have seven years for reading. Seven years? In a quarter of a million. Say, how smart does a guy have to be to get his hooks on so much lettuce? Would you like some of it? Are you kidding? Well, let's make a deal. You drop the key to those things on the floor, and go ahead yourself a nice lunch. Sure. And when do I see Mr. French again? Well, I meet you to pay off. Uh-huh. I wouldn't be taking kind of a chance there, would I? It was a stupid conversation, and I was only making words. I looked out at the fields and brooks and houses rushing fast. I wouldn't see these things for seven years. Not counting time off or good behavior. But then I'd be free again. And I'd have my quarter of a million. Not a bad salary, huh? I'd use my brains for myself this time. Suddenly, a car lay on its side and flames. And those passengers who could move, scramble through the broken windows, say no attention to the helpless man and handcuffs. That was the detective. His legs pinned for the wreckage. You move, will you? You want to see me rusted? What can I do with my hands like this? What do you carry the key? What do you want with a key? You can pull me out by an arm, can't you? You can grab me by the head. Get the kid at full will both die here if I can't use my hands. You can use them good enough. Where's the key? I can't find it. French. It ain't in my pocket. Look on the floor. You're a liar. French. My shoes are on fire. Please. The only weapon was a suitcase. I kicked him in the face. I flashed a suitcase on his head. And he didn't have the key. I emptied his pockets down to the last kilometer buckle. But a fire kept closer. He hadn't the key to the handcuffs. And I wanted it. Because this wouldn't be an escape. This would be a disappearance. What a chance. What a chance. I'd have my liberty. And I'd have my money. I'd throw away his pistol. I wouldn't need a gun. I'd use my head. I'd squeeze my collage ring on his finger. I'd switch wallets. Is there anybody in that car? Pete, this way. Over here. There was a conductor out there. A crowd of passengers. I got to the opposite side of the car. No one. Not a soul. And there wasn't a splinter of glass left in the window. I slid down the side of the car. I cleared the wheels. I struck the ground running. A few moments, a few hundred steps. And I was safe in the darkness. I was free. They'd think I was dead. And I had a quarter of a million dollars. For suspense, auto light is bringing you William Powell. In radio's outstanding theater of thrills, suspense. App, my friend, have you ever heard a conversation between two cars? Two cars? Hello, Wilcox. Are you crazy? Crazy like a fox. Listen, a sorrowful-looking sedan came up to me on the street the other day and said, pardon me, pal, but have you got a potent pill for a spot-buttering engine that keeps popping along on poor-firing spark plugs? Well, this car sure come to the right, man, old ALRSP, Wilcox. ALRSP? ALRSP for auto light, resistor, spark plugs, of course. Oh. Well, before I could answer this fumbling four-door, up glides a cute coupé with a mellow murmur and says, say, chum, if you want to hum and hustle on the highway, if you want to idle smooth as a satin slipper, if you want better luck with lean gas mixtures, actually save gas, why switch your narrow gap plugs for a set of those wonderful, sensational, wide-gap auto light, resistor, spark plugs. What's more, continues this chatty convertible, auto light, resistor, spark plugs, and spark plug interference with radio and television reception. Really, the spark plug of the future. Well, I was talking to a delighted television set yesterday. Wait a minute, wait a minute, Harlow. Now you've got a car talking to a television set. By Cornelia's app, television sets, cars, and everybody are talking about auto light, resistor, spark plugs. And no wonder because new auto light, resistor, spark plugs have a 10,000 ohm resistor, ignition engineered right into the spark plug and a wider spark gap setting that means smoother idling and gas dollars saved. Auto light, resistor, spark plugs fit any make in size of car, and don't forget, auto light, resistor, spark plugs are backed by the reputation of auto light and the over 400 automotive, marine, and aviation parts made by the auto light people. Pipe that. Okay, okay, but right now let's pipe suspense. And now, auto light brings back to our Hollywood sound stage William Powell as Earl French in Give Me Liberty, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. My first job after escaping was to break out of those manacles. I sat on a wheat field, holding my hands overhead so the blood would run through my hands and wrists and leave them slim. It didn't work. I tried that until my shoulders run agony, and it didn't work. I couldn't snap the chain. I twisted it. I pulled at it. I tried to flame my hands apart and it wouldn't break. I rubbed it against stones until my skin was torn and bleeding and it wouldn't break. By this time it was morning and I was pretty desperate. I found a match in my pocket. I went into the woods that boarded the field and built a fire. First the chain grew hot and then my wrists thought I held them over the fire until I couldn't keep up the screaming. And not until I believed that I needed help. I pushed through the wheat and the corn beyond it and I stumbled on a slope in Wubarniard. Down Jack, down! A woman was standing here one of the hen houses, a pan of chicken feet in her hand. What do you want? There was nothing to say. She'd seen the handcuffs. Come on, speak up. Look, I... What do you want? I'm innocent. I swear to you, I'm innocent. Where are you from? How'd you get away? Well, I... we were going up to the prison and there was an accident. Well, what do you want from me? Could you lend me a file? And... and if you could spare some food, I'll be glad to pay for... You don't have to pay me for anything. Wait here, Jack. You'll watch it. The fool went into the house and the dog sat down in its belly and placed its nose between its paws and its eyes never left my face for an instant. And then through the stillness I heard the cranking of an old-fashioned wall telephone and I knew what she was doing. I ran. I ran like a whirlwind. I couldn't get the handcuffs off. I couldn't get anything to eat. I couldn't show myself. Do you know what it means to see food all about you and not be able to buy it? Don't tell me I could have eaten corn and fruit and roots. I can tell you the nature of every dog in that area and the feel of every barbed wire fence and the spang and roar of every rifle and shotgun. I crept into a village one night and forced up the window of a hardware store. I wanted a file, just a file. Do you know what they carry in hardware stores these days? Glassware, kitchen gadgets, garden tools, seeds, ovens, rat poison, dresses. And then I moved behind a counter. A hardware store has to have filed somewhere and my foot struck a wire, stretched across the floor. How tired have you been? Have you ever been so tired that your eyes felt like stones in your head so weary that your jaw hung slack and your tongue seemed thick and heavy in your mouth? Ah, there were times when I thought I'd die. The fourth day of my liberty I crawled quietly to the garbage cans back of a roadside diner and began to paw about for something I could eat. There was a step behind me, a world about. It was a boy. We looked at each other for a long moment. He was waiting for me to speak. I said, hello, Sonny. Hello. You live in this neighborhood? Yeah. I don't. I'm traveling. With handcuffs, son? Oh, these? Yeah, a friend put them on me for a joke. Say, that gives me an idea, Sonny. Would you do me a big favor? Depends upon how big. Well, big to me, anyway. Sonny, it's worth $10 to be able to have these handcuffs all before my friend shows up. Look, can you get me a file or chop them off of an axe or something like that so I can have a laugh on him? No. I'll let you keep them. They're fun. No? Oh. Well, then, would you do something else for me? Depends. I'm a little embarrassed about going to the lunch wagon like this. Look, would you step in there and buy a few hamburgers for me? How much? Same $10. For a couple of hamburgers? Why not? Then maybe you'd change your mind about the file. Let's see the money. I'll get it right here in my pocket, ready to jump into your hand. Hey, there are lots of things that a boy can buy with $10. Ah, there we are. How do I know it's good? Don't you trust me? Drop it on the ground. Drop it? Why? You drop it and back away. Then I'll pick it up. Oh, hey, that's very smart. How's that? Far enough? I guess. When I was a kid, I used to walk around the diner. But when he was out of reach, he broke into a run. He had $250,000 buried away, and it was worthless to me. Do you know what can be bought with a quarter of a million? Why, an iron soul can be bought with less than a quarter of a million dollars. And I couldn't buy a 10-cent file. I spent that night in a nest of cast-off railway ties. That's the siding. Well, I opened my eyes in the morning. There was a hobo sitting on the top of my fortress-like bedroom. A very unusual-looking hobo. And blue jeans and a navy coat. She was counting my money, smoothing each bill with loving care. She grinned when she saw I was awake. Good morning, chum. You sleep like an honest man. What's the matter, chum? Do you want to speak to Lay bring your orange juice? Listen, I'm in trouble. I want you to help me. To get the bracelet off? Yeah. Ah, chum, wouldn't that be kind of silly? I might lose all this hard-earned dough. Look, there's more where that came from. A lot more. I'll make you rich. Yeah, I heard that one before. So long, chum. Listen, listen to me. I got a quarter of a million dollars. Come back, will you? It's true. Ladies, I'm Earl French. I never heard of you, and where would you get that much dough? Look, go into town and buy one of the newspapers six days ago. That'll tell you. Tell me what? Don't people read anymore? Earl French, the embezzler. I stole $250,000. And you're wearing those things so you won't pick your own pocket. Don't try to be clever. I died in the train wreck near Scottsville. You're so sure about that, chum. You croaked only a few days ago. No, you fool. They only think I did. Now, you get those newspapers. You come back here with a file and some food. No, no, no. Don't order me around, chum. If you're a corpse, I won't take it from you. And if you're not a corpse, I'll poke you in the eye. Just play it easy, huh? Yeah, maybe I'll be back. Good happen. I waited for her all through that long blistering day. Crouching within those four walls of railway ties. I lay there like a trapped animal. And yet I knew she'd be back. She couldn't resist it. Cheap little thing like that. I knew she'd be back. Chum, it seems you were a very important guy in your time. You saw the papers. Yeah, and I got good news for you. Mr. French, you're now burnt to a crisp. That's the way they found you in the train. Recognize me by the ring on my finger? Yeah. Well, you're dead all right. You and $250,000. Well, we'll come to that later. You get to work with the file. No, no, no, no. You're given orders again, and I told you I don't like it. Give me that file. It's right here in my jeans. And that's where it stays until you lead me to my share of that dough. Oh, you'll get it. You'll get it. Chum, listen to mama. I can pick up 500 fish by turning in an escaped prisoner, or you can dig up that treasure chest and buy this file for half the plunder. That's 400 miles away. That's a fair distance. But I can't ride a train or a bus with these on my wrists. It's okay, Chum. We'll walk. 400 miles? A sense. I've done it before. We'll be seen. Not at night. How do I eat? Where will I sleep? You'll sleep in the woods, and I'll bring the grub to you. Me, I'll sleep in town, where I'll be snug and safe. Yeah, don't take this file from me, Chum. Not till I see my half of that dough. And that's how it was. That same evening, we started a walk. At first, it wasn't so bad. It gave me time to think. And I knew I'd think of something. You know, there's kind of a sneaky look about you. What? You figure that in 400 miles, a lot of things can happen. Oh, no, no. After all, I want to do what's fair. Let's split. If we don't, I'll split your skull and don't kid yourself that I won't, little Chum. I've been waiting a long time for a break like this. We walked. But the handcuffs digging so deep into my flesh that I began to believe they were a part of me. Yeah, she brought me food. But she wouldn't come close enough to hand it to me. And every time I reached for anything, it was torture. My hands and wrists were a mass of misery. And as though her pet animal were on a leash, my friend always walked six paces behind me. She was too smart. And I realized that I had to get away from her. And soon, in the morning I decided to do it, she found me a shack to hold up in. I could hardly wait for her to leave and go back into town. Yeah, this shack looks good. I'll meet you back here tonight. All right. See you tonight. That's the way I like it, Chum. Nice and agreeable. Why not? Why shouldn't I be? See you tonight, as usual. There isn't anything special you'd like me to bring you to eat? No, nothing special. Uh-huh. See, Chum, I think you better turn around. Why? Big... Hey! With a dull ache filling my head, I found myself neatly trust up. I could move a little, but not enough to get free. Talk about female intuition. She had guessed that I was going to try to get away from her, and she beat me to it. But I didn't give up, though. She'd have to make one mistake. Now, the next night, we'd stop for a rest. Hey, uh, French. Yeah? How can you be sure that dough is still there? It's safe. How do you know what kind of a place you hide it in? You'll see. Hey, don't you trust me? Of course. As much as you trust me. And it's time we stopped playing this little game. Now, get out that fire. When I see the dough, little chum. Take them off, will you? How long do you think I... Shut up! Don't wake up the neighbors. On move. No. I said move. No. That money's mine. And you'll never see it unless I want you to. And we'll go to it the way I say. Chum, you're making me mad. You get out that fire and take these off. Go on, get it out. I can give orders, too. What do you think you are, an animal trainer? That's not a bad idea. Is it? But it happens and I'm not an animal. And it happens that... What's that for? You can't frighten me with a knife. I wouldn't try. You use that on me and we both lose out. Whenever my own land used to beat one of us kids, he always said the same thing. He said never use a switch thicker in your thumb, breaks the skin, but no bones. The kid can go on working. A switch? Yeah, like this one. Nice and green and limber. That's all the knife is for. I wouldn't use a knife on a buddy. You won't use that either. Put it down. You know, this is something I wanted to do ever since I found you sleeping in those railroad ties. You gonna get up? No. This'll hurt. I'll kill you someday. I swear, I'll kill you. I once had a husband like you, brave enough outside, but once anybody put on the pressure... Don't talk too much. Come on, I'm calling your bluff. I'm sick of hearing you talk. All right. Well, she was sure she'd beat me down all together because she didn't even bother now to taunt me anymore. She was very quiet after that. And a little careless. I stopped now and then she bumped into me in the darkness. But she'd always stopped dreaming before I could get my hands on her. Look, all things must end. Our pilgrim agendaed one morning when I said... Here it is. What? The money. Where? We're standing over it. You up to some sneaky trek again. We're standing in the middle of a highway. You didn't do any digging here, chum. Look, there's a culvert running under the road here. A 24-inch pipe. Come into the ditch. I'll show you. You didn't stick that dough into the pipe. Must have washed away. It's not in the pipe. It's in a deep crevice between the pipe and the concrete. Pull out some of those stones. You pull them out. What, with these hands? I can't touch anything without screaming. Pull them out. French, sir, help me if this is a gay. She believed me. She had to. She saw the truth in my eyes. The money was there, my quarter of a million. She bent over to tug at the stones. She turned her back to me for the first time. And that was it. That was the mistake I was waiting for. I sprang forward and I crushed her hand. Down on her head. The back of her neck. My hands. Covered with blood. Her blood. Mine. But I couldn't move. My hands. My poor hands. I had to wait until the shot drained out of them. Finally, I reached into her pockets for the file. I must be in this one. No. No. No, I... That's the way I found him, Chief, sitting in the ditch beside a dead girl and babbling like an idiot. Cue William Powell for a splendid performance. Mr. Powell returns in just a moment. Well, Hap, my friend, now that you... Oh, Harlow, I've been trying to tell you, I already have two complete sets of auto-light resistor spark plugs. Congratulations. One should have a complete set of auto-light resistor spark plugs. Those modern miracles of auto-light ignition engineers, those monuments to tireless auto-light research. So, friends, why not drive down to your nearest auto-light dealer tomorrow, early tomorrow, and get your car a set of auto-light resistor spark plugs. They're sensational. And not because I said so either, but because they really are. Auto-light means spark plugs. Ignition engineered resistor spark plugs. Auto-light means batteries. Stay full battery. Auto-light means ignition system. The lifeline of your car. Here again is William Powell. My thanks to the fine cast, the suspense actors who helped to make my appearance here so pleasant an experience. I'm a regular listener to radio's outstanding theater thrills, and I'll be tuned in next time to hear John Garfield in death sentence. Another gripping study in... Suspense. William Powell appeared by arrangement with Metro Baldwin Mayor Studios, producers of the Technicolor production The Three Musketeers, starring Lana Turner, Jean Kelly, June Allison and Van Heflin. Tonight's suspense play was written by Herb Meadow with music composed by Lucian Morawake and conducted by Lud Bluskin. And Morrison played the part of the hobo. The entire production was under the direction of Anton M. Leder. This is the Auto-light Suspense Show. Subscribe to your local community chest. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.