 Box 13, with the style of Paramount Pictures, Alan Ladd as Dan Holliday. Box 13, care of star times. I saw your ad in the paper and I wondered if you'd help me. I can't go to the police and I have no money for a private detective. But my father is in trouble, I'm sure, and when you find out who he is, you'll know why I can't go to the police and why I must have help. Mrs. Sheila Corbett, 356 Wearing Avenue. It didn't sound like much this letter, but I did find out who her father was. I found him dead, then learned he was alive. Sure it sounds impossible, but that was it. And now back to The Dead Man Walks, another Box 13 adventure with Alan Ladd as Dan Holliday. Why she can't go to the police? Suzy, if I knew that, I wouldn't have to go to see Mrs. Corbett. Gee, Mr. Holliday, it sure sounds like a wild goose chase. It'll probably turn out to be a dub. Oh, is that the word I wanted? Suzy, only you can get the answer to that question. Well, once in a while I get a word right. Well, don't I? Oh, sure, sure. That's what makes it so interesting. When you do get one right, I don't know what you're talking about. Kind of makes it the slice of life, huh? Two strikes and before you foul-tip the next one I'm leaving for. What was that address? Oh, um, uh, 356 Wearing Avenue. 356 Wearing Avenue. So long, Suzy. It wasn't a very nice neighborhood, 356 Wearing Avenue, but the flat I entered was neat, clean, scrubbed, and polished. And the woman who asked me to sit down was as neat and clean as the room. I waited for her to start things, and she did. I'm Mrs. Sheila Corbett. Yes, I guess that. And I'm Box 13. My name's Dan Holliday. Well, I, I don't know how to start, Mr. Holliday. The beginning's always a good place, Mrs. Corbett. Saves time and trouble. I want you to find my father. You said you couldn't go to the police about it. Why not? Because, uh, because my father's, uh, paroled convict. Do you understand? Are you afraid he's done something? No, I know that's not true. He, he swore he'd go straight when he came home. But you think he hasn't? I didn't say that. But the fact that you're afraid to go to the police says so. Look, Mrs. Corbett, if he's done nothing wrong, there's nothing to be afraid of. Yes, I know. But there'd be questions. I have two children, Mr. Holliday, a husband who's wonderful to me. No one in this neighborhood knows about my father, so, well... All right, Mrs. Corbett, I'll give it a whirl. But first, when did you last see your father? The day after he was released on parole. He came here. Was he all right? I don't know. You don't know. Well, I'll tell you what happened. He'd come home. He was here maybe two hours when the phone rang. Sheila! Sheila! Telephone! Answer it, will you, Dad? All right. Hello? Oh, yeah, it's me. What'd you call up? Look, I said nothing doing. I meant it. I'm straight now. Nothing doing. You won't get him, and I won't say where they are. Let me alone, will you? Just let me alone. Dad, who was it? It... just a man I used to know. Who? Nobody you know, honey. Well, what did he want? Nothing. You were afraid. Why? Why were you afraid? It wasn't anything, Sheila. Dad, if there's something wrong... There ain't. Your own parole. I know it. Don't you think I know it? I'm sorry. No, that's all right. But, Sheila... What, Dad? Yeah. I want you to keep this for me. What is it? Just a piece of paper. What's up with that? Put it in a safe place. Keep it for me. Keep it for you? Dad, why do you say that? There's nothing to worry about, Sheila. Nothing at all. I just forget all about it, and don't worry, because there ain't anything to worry about. He said there wasn't anything to worry about, Mr. Holiday. But I was worried. He didn't come home that night for the next day. And you don't know where he went? No. May I see the piece of paper he gave you? Yes, here it is. Is this all? That's all. 517 Slack Street, S. Thomas, 945. Does this mean anything to you? No. Do you know the address, 517 Slack Street? Not at all. And the name, S. Thomas? I've never heard it before. Do you mind if I take this? No, of course not. Do you think you know what it means? No more than you do, but I'll try to find out. How? By going to 517 Slack Street and seeing if there's a Mr. S. Thomas there. The piece of paper with a message on it seemed like it might be a reminder to meet Mr. S. Thomas at 945 at this address. But when? What day? Why? Was S. Thomas the man who called Mrs. Corbett's father on the phone? You know, a guy can ask himself a lot of questions and get no answers. So I drove to 517 Slack Street. It was a pawn shop, with everything from gold tooth picks to elephant heads, and clocks. Lots of clocks that ticked off little punctuation marks into the silence. Hello? Hello? Anybody here? Holy mackerel. Holy mackerel. Hey, what the? Wake up. Hey, McGuire, look, this guy's out like high-button shoes. You wake up, come on. That's the boy. Come on, sit up. Sit up. Without my head. Look, fella, parking on the side of the road isn't allowed. Who are you? State trooper, who are you? I'm Dan Holliday. Welcome to Hamilton County. Hamilton? What did you say? Look, are you drunk? Did you say Hamilton County? That's it. When you saw your car, looked like there wasn't anybody in it. Stopped to take a look. And found me. You're no Easter egg, but brother, all that lump on your head needs is a shell. How far is it to the city? About 70 miles. Thanks. I'll be going now. Oh, no. Maybe you better come with us. All right. Get in touch with Lieutenant Kling. I'll identify myself and tell him a nice story. You won't believe it, but I've got a lump on my head to back me up. That's happened from the beginning. You don't believe me, do you? You saw a dead man on that porch. Then somebody teed off on me for a hole in one. When I woke up, I was out in the country, out in the next county. In your own car? In my own car. What time did you go to the pawnshop? It was 2.15. That's five now. That's better than three hours. And no dead bodies have been reported. I keep in touch with them. I tell you, I saw one. Whose? I didn't ask. What'd he look like? Medium height, gray hair, blue suit. That's about all I can tell you. Gray. Nothing else? I didn't get to count his teeth because a roof fell in. Look, I've got a knot on my head. Doesn't that prove anything? I guess it does. But you're sure you didn't recognize the man you saw lying dead? No, I never saw any for. And you went there looking for... I'll be dug gone. What's the matter? I didn't ask her his name. Her? Who? Mrs. Sheila Corbett. What? Does that flint strike a spark in your iron head? You ever hear of a man named Winslow? Albert Winslow? No. X convict, parole, set up for counterfeiting. It might be. We got a picture of him? Yeah, wait a minute. Sergeant, file an Albert Winslow. Bring it in. Albert Winslow has a daughter named Mrs. Sheila Corbett. Is that it? What deduction? By the way, Winslow answers the description of your dead man, roughly. And let's get going. Hold your horses. Bring it here, Sergeant. Yes, sir. Nice. Let's see it. There you are. Well, that's all, Sergeant. Okay. Cling, look. This is Albert Winslow, and Albert Winslow is the man I saw dead in that pawn shop. You're sure? Look, could I make this up? I guess not. Okay, Dan, let's go to your pawn shop and see what we can redeem. This is it. 517 Slack Street. Come on. Is this the same place? Sure it is. Yes, sir. Can I do something for you? Maybe. This your shop? Oh, yes. Uh-huh. Were you in here at 2.15 this afternoon? 2.15? Well, yes, yes, why? You're sure? Well, of course. How long have you been here? Well, about 15 years. I mean today. Holiday. Would you like my badge? Badge? Yeah, police. Homicide. Oh, my goodness. Yeah, what's the matter, Dan? You take a look behind this counter. Huh? Well, I'm looking. What am I supposed to see? Albert Winslow dead. Where? Look, Winslow is behind this counter at 2.15 this afternoon. Excuse me, but I don't understand this. Neither do I. What's your name? Holiday. Shut up. Yours? Barrow. Michael Barrow. Do you know a man named Albert Winslow? I never heard of him. No, I'm sure I didn't. Mind if we look over your place? Oh, certainly not, but I still don't understand. I'll draw it for you, Mr. Barrow. At 2.15 this afternoon, I walked into this shop. This one? This one. There was no one here except a dead man behind the counter. Then I was slugged. In here? That's right. But that's impossible. Well, I mean, I've been here all day. Come on, we'll take a look around. Wait a minute, what now? This place looks a little different from what it did earlier. It looks as though it's been changed around. That's impossible too. Dan, are you sure this is the place? Of course I am. Okay, we'll give it a fine tooth comb job. Certainly help yourselves. I'd be only too glad to do anything I can, although this is certainly very peculiar. Thus we have the understatement of the week. Well, let's get it. That's my phone. May I answer it? Yeah, go ahead. Thank you. Well, be a minute. You know, who? Oh, yes, yes, just a minute. Lieutenant Kling. Yeah? It's for you. Thanks. Be right with you. Hello? Yeah, go ahead, Sergeant. What? Say that again. Okay, thank you. We won't have to go over your place, Barrow. You won't. What are you talking about, Kling? Holiday is a sergeant garden. It's very efficient. So, what has that got to do with this? Lots. I left word where I could be reached. He reached me. What are you building up to? I don't know, but it's not good for you. Yeah, what's on your mind? More to the point, what's on yours? Oh, look, I don't get this. What was that call about? About Albert Winslow. Go on. You saw him dead at 2.15. I said I did. You want to change your story? Now, look, why should I? Because Albert Winslow reported to his parole officer no later and no earlier than 4.20 this afternoon. And now, back to Box 13 and Dan Holiday's latest adventure, the dead man walks. Yeah, that was it. The man I saw dead at 2.15 was alive again at 4.20. That's impossible. Kling said it was, and better than Kling, my own common sense said it was. So, later that night, I went back to see Mrs. Corbett. But you went to the police. You promised you wouldn't. I'm sorry, but I had to. I saw your father. Dead. Dead, you said. I know that's a brutal way to put it, Mrs. Corbett, but with the only way. And the police? There's nothing they can do or want to do. Your father reported to his parole officer. He has to do that once a month. Please, please find him. I think I did find him. Oh, no. No, it can't be. Mrs. Corbett, I've got to ask some questions. You've got to answer them. I'll try. Good. Now, look, your father talked to someone on the phone. He didn't mention any names. No. Not even the name Thomas? I'm sure of it. One dead and after another. Do you know the names of any of your father's role? Accomplices? Yes. I don't remember any names, but I could tell you the place where they used to meet, where he was arrested. Where was it? A house in Brennan Square. 618, I think. Now, you said your father spoke to someone on the phone and said he wouldn't, well, wouldn't give them something. But I don't know what he was talking about. And you haven't heard from him at all? No. You're sure you'd get in touch with him? Oh, I know it. Okay, Mrs. Corbett. I'll try the lead you gave me. 618 Brennan Square. 618 Brennan Square was an old frame house that looked as though its last tenants had moved out to go to George Washington's inaugural. Its windows were boarded up and the rusty iron fence and front barred politely to the houses across the street. I walked up the stairs and knocked on the front door, never expecting an answer. I was about to turn away and chalk this off to exercise when... Yeah. What do you want? I'm looking for someone. Ain't nobody here. Mr. S. Thomas, perhaps? Nobody. I'll beat it. Just a minute. Maybe you've got an Albert Winslow living here. What was that name again? Albert Winslow, as in Homer. I don't get it. You wouldn't. But do you know anyone by that name? Maybe you better come in. Maybe I should. Come on. Do you live here? Caretaker, that's all. I see. What are you stopping for? I don't like haunted houses. This looks like one. You're nuts. Look, before we go any farther, maybe you'd like to tell me why you let me in when I mention the name of Albert Winslow. Maybe he was a friend of mine. I think I'd like a breath of fresh air. Maybe you'll be lucky to get any breath at all, Chum. Oh, it's that way, huh? This way. What's the idea? It was yours, Chum. Now come on. Now come on. Get in front of me. Come on. Company, Eddie. Looking for Al. Getting crowded in here. Come in. I've seen you before, something. Oh, yeah. You came in Barlow's shop this afternoon. You didn't stay long, did you? I took a sleeping tablet over the head. And you prescribed it, huh? Yeah. I thought maybe you were just a guy, but now you come nudging in here. Charlie. Hey. Yes, for Al, huh? That's right. Sit on. Charlie, see if Barlow's come to. Okay. Barlow? The pawn shop owner? That's right. We couldn't get anything out of him, so we'll try you. What do you mean? Guess. Take a look at Barlow. You gave plenty to remember you by, didn't you? Uh-huh. Now you keep looking at him and keep thinking how you look if you don't talk. About what? That's a starter. Not talk. Sure. I still say about what? I'll give you five minutes to tell us where the plates are. Plates? Yeah. Plates. Oh. Barlow's stubborn. You gonna be that way, too? Come on. Let him alone. Sure. But him and Winslow were pals. Winslow, tell him. Maybe you know, too. Look, I'm trying to find Winslow. That's all. That's all, huh? Why you? Sit still. And take it. Now come on. Where are the plates? What did Winslow do with them? He hit them before he took the wrap and we want them. Out of it plates? Where are they? I don't know. All right, Charlie. Go ahead. Go ahead and make him talk. That's no use, Eddie. He won't spill. Get rid of him, then. No. Either here or Barlow knows where Winslow's plates are. Barlow. Barlow doesn't know anything, do I? I think he's telling the truth, Eddie. Go throw his pockets. Okay. Identification cards named Dan Holiday. Do you read them some other time? What else is it? Look, Eddie, look. 517 Slack Street. That's Thomas 945. That's the pawn shop. Barlow's place. Yeah. What's the rest of it mean? I don't know. You. What's this mean? And if I tell you I don't know, I'll get battered around like a cue ball again. Why you? Cut it out, Eddie. Well, I know. Look, he went to Barlow's place this afternoon. If he knew where the plates were, he wouldn't be here, would he? So? They've got to be at Barlow's shop. Yeah, maybe you're right. Okay, tie them up, both of them. And Mr. Holiday, if we come back without the plates, you'll walk out without your head. They did a good job of tying Barlow and me to the chairs. Then when they were gone, I talked with Barlow. Barlow. Barlow, are you all right? Yeah, I think so. What happened? Who were those men? They knew Albert Winslow years ago. He engraved counterfeit plates. What happened in your shop? I was in my shop early this afternoon. I hadn't seen Albert since he was released. Then he came into my shop. First, I didn't recognize him. Then he spoke to me. You remember me, don't you, Barlow? Well, I, uh, I seem to. Take a good look. Al. Al Winslow. How are you? Fine, fine, but do you? Perol. Oh, I see. It's all right, Barlow. I'm going straight. Of course, of course. Here, here, sit down. Back in the shop. Wait a minute. I want to take a look around. You know what are you looking for, Al? Things didn't change much around here, did they? Well, what do you mean? Nothing. Look, Barlow, I want to go straight so there's something I got to tell you. I... What's the matter? Oh, customers. I'll be back in a minute. No, not customers. But I... Hello, Al. Eddie. Ah, this is Charlie. You remember Charlie? Sure. Sit down, Barlow. Take it easy. Hey, what is this? Sit down, Barlow. Do what he says. That's right. Okay, Al. Where are they? I told you on the phone you can't have them. I'm going straight. I'm going to turn them over to the government. Sure. Beautiful place like ours. Not much, you. And where are they? No, I won't tell you. Don't be a sap. We'll take them and get out. And I'll be picked up again to fetch them all my work. I'll have a great chance. I'm on parole. Please, let me alone. Just let me alone. Sure, sure. When we get the plates, they in here? No. Barlow, what do you say? You don't know anything. Come on, Al. Where are they? Look, I got a report to my parole officer this afternoon. If I don't, they'll come after me. And you? I'll cut it out. I... Hey, Charlie, stop it. Al. Eddie. Why, you idiot, you muttonhead, you killed him. Call the police. Get Winslow behind the counter. Now, come on. Eddie, there's somebody coming in. Barlow, get out of sight. Charlie, get Winslow behind the counter. Now, duck back to that screen. Come on. Anybody here? That was you, Mr. Haronday. Eddie hit you and you saw Winslow's body. That's where I came in. But later, when I went back with Lieutenant Kling, what about that? Well, I had to do what I did. They were upstairs. My wife was there. They threatened to... I see. But Winslow reported to his parole officer that afternoon after he was dead. It was a telephone call. They made for my shop. Charlie pretended to be Winslow. He told the officer he'd report in person in an hour. Then he hid Winslow's body in the basement. It's there now. Oh, nice, clever people. Now, what about those plates? Do you know where they are? No. But Winslow frequently came to see me here. He was often in the shop alone and... Barlow, I've got it. I know where those plates are. Where? Come on, let's get out of here first. Yeah, but how? Look, there's a drinking glass on that table. I'll squirm my chair over there and knock the glass on the floor to break it. But I... Hold it. Here I go. Okay, Barlow. Skate over. Overturn your chair and get a piece of glass. Cut these ropes on my hand. I've got a date with a boy named Eddie and he who slaps last slaps best. Better wait outside the shop holiday. Oh, no, Kling, I'm too fond of Eddie. I'll lump on my head in a well across my face. Please don't shoot him. Take it easy. Kelly, Michael, take the bag. Go ahead. You ready, Danny? Yeah, let's go. Kling, there they go. Why you... You! Hello, Eddie. Now, just pick him up and stare in my direction. That's enough, boys. I'll clean it up. Eddie disappointed me. Yeah, me too. He didn't hit you once. All right, out you go. Kelly, take pretty boy here and slap some jewelry on him. And what are you looking at, Holiday? Me? Why, I'm looking at Mr. S. Thomas. Huh? I thought his name was Eddie. I'm not looking at him, Kling. I told you I was looking at Mr. S. Thomas and 9.45. Well, go on, Mr. Holiday. What then? Who was Mr. S. Thomas and what did 9.45 mean? Mr. S. Thomas Suzy was a clock. One of the famous old Seth Thomas clocks. He was the only one in the shop whose hand stood at 9.45. Yeah, and? Well, Winswood put his counterfeit plates on the pendulum arm. And that's where they were when we got them. You mean they looked like a pendulum weight? Exactly. It was very clever. But gee, what if somebody had bought the clock? Well, that was a chance he took. No one did. And that's that. There's one more thing that puzzles me. One? Yeah. The post Eddie and Charlie got the plates and made counterfeit money from them. So? Would they have to declare per income tax? Income? Oh, good night, Suzy. Next week, same time, through the courtesy of Paramount Pictures, Alan Ladd stars as Dan Holiday in Box 13. Box 13 is directed by Richard Sanville, with this week's original story by Russell Hughes. Original music is composed and conducted by Rudy Schrager. Part of Suzy is played by Sylvia Picker and that of Lieutenant Kling by Edmund MacDonald. Production is supervised by Vern Carstensen. Box 13 is a Mayfair production from Hollywood. Watch for Alan Ladd in his latest Paramount Picture.