Sherlock Holmes - Thor Bridge

This episode from the lip of Sherlock Holmes will be transmitted to our men and women overseas by shortwave and through the worldwide facilities of the Armed Forces Radio Service.

Petri Wine brings you...

...as a left-bone and Nigel Bruce and the new adventures of Sherlock Holmes.

The Petri family, the family that took time to bring you good wine, invite you to listen to Doc Watson tell us another exciting adventure he shared with his old friend, that master detective, Sherlock Holmes.

And while you're settling back comfortably in your chair, mind if I tell you about something I'd like you to share with me, it's a glass of Petri California's Sherry.

Of course, most people think of Petri California's Sherry is the one wine that's really swell anytime, but personally I like a glass of that Petri Sherry just before dinner.

You know, that's the time you're little on edge, you've just finished your day's work and you're waiting for your dinner and...

Well, that's when you want to lean back and take it easy.

And boy, that's the time a glass of Petri Sherry tastes like something just too good to be true. Try it.

Petri Sherry is the perfect before dinner wine, and incidentally if you like your Sherry dry, you know, not sweet, then you'll find that Petri pale-pry Sherry is just made for you.

The important thing is the Petri label, because when it says Petri, it always means good wine.

And now for our weekly visit with our good friend and host, Dr. Watson. Good evening, Dr..

Good evening, Mr. Bartell. You're a bit late. I've been keeping some dinner hot for you. I have full of pitchern. Join me.

That's very nice of you, thanks, Dr.. Are you all set with the night story?

Yes, my boy. I'm all set, as you call it. As a matter of fact, I was going over my notes on the case just before you arrived.

Last week you hinted that a beautiful girl figured prominently in your adventure. That's quite right, Mr. Bartell. An extremely beautiful girl.

In fact, I often used to say, Sherlock Holmes, if I've been a little younger at the time, I might have...

Oh, well, you haven't come here to listen to my personal reminiscences. You want to hear this story that I called The Problem of Tor Bridge.

That's what your professor's doctor. How does it begin? On a window calling in October, in 1890's, bars.

And I was dressing. I observed how the last remaining leaves were being whirled away from the solitary plain tree which grazed the yard behind our Baker Street house.

I descended to breakfast prepared to find my companion into pressed stood-its for, like, all great artists. He was easily impressed by surroundings.

But, to my surprise, he was in an unusually gay mood. As I entered the room, he looked up at me and was earth. That's smile.

Good morning, my dear fellow. Hope you're set well. Splendidly. Thanks, sir.

I'm so glad. We owe you a very solicitous morning, I think you must have got a new case.

Am I right? The faculty have been pissed up in the contagious. Yes, I have a new case. After month of trivialities and stagnation, the wheels revolve once more.

Good, tell me all about it. Well, yet there is much to tell. Have you ever had a kneeled Gibson?

Kneeled? Who else is there something to do with gold mining, isn't he?

Great deal to do with the video, fellow. In fact, he's considered the greatest mining magnum in the world.

But by the end of the day, he bought a large estate in Hampshire. That's you read of the...

...deaf his wife. Well, of course I remember the case now. She was murdered by a jealous governor who was in her employ, wasn't he?

That point will be decided, and the lady in question, Grace Dunbar, I believe her name is, comes up for trial at the forthcoming winches to decide.

Is, in any case, it's hard for me to see what I can do for my time at this late date.

Look, Khan. Oh, yes. God, I haven't told you. I'm getting into your involved habit of telling a story backwards.

I'm going to read this letter. Ken's morning.

Oh, so, look.

You're Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Mr. Dunbar is innocent. I can't see the finest woman in the world. Go to a death without doing everything possible to save her.

I shall call on you at 10th of the morning to discuss the matter yours faithfully. Kneeled Gibson.

Excuse me. Have it Watson. Here's the gentleman I await.

Do you know anything about his dead wife? Only they know what I've been reading in the papers. Apparently she was passed up prime, which was the more unfortunate as this misdone bar who superintendent the education of the two young children has reputed the very attractive young lady.

Turn all triangle. Where does the murder take place? On Gibson's estate in Hampshire.

His wife was found in the grounds nearly half a mile from the manor house late at night.

She had in her dinner dress the shoulder of her shoulders and a revolver bullet to her brain.

Any weapon found near her? No, no clue. It was found at the scene of the crime. What made them suspect the governor?

Well, at first place, there was some very incriminating evidence. A revolver with one discharged chamber, the caliber caught a spawning with a bullet in the dead woman's head, was found on the floor in Mr. Dunbar's wardrobe.

What was it? The damaging evidence, sir.

Fill the corner, I thought. And to make the case even blacker against Mr. Dunbar, the dead woman had a note on her, making an appointment at that very spot.

And the note was signed by the governor. She was obvious of the girl's guilt here. The motive's clear. She gives him a great catch for a young girl. Love, fortune, power, all dependent on one life.

I'm possibly a Watson, but circumstantial evidence can be very misleading at times.

Now, as a gentleman in question, there's not very much mistaken, considerably before his time.

I can see him from the window here. Formal looking color. Must be well over a six foot tall.

Judging by the way he's wrenching at that door, Bill, he's a man with a violent temper.

Mrs. Hudson is opening the door to him now.

Well, need him on the stairs, really, what's happened? You'll save Mrs. Hudson the journey.

Mr. Hudson.

Appear, sir. Thank you, Mr. Hudson.

Are you Mr. Schillakho?

No, no, indeed, I'm Mr. Colley. Dr. Watson, come along in, won't you?

Mr. Neil, gibson, I presume. That's right. See all the great Schillakho.

Adjective is your own, Mr. Gibson. He said that, won't you?

Other way you may speak quite freely on kind of Dr. Watson.

Well, I may as well begin by telling you that money means nothing to me in this case. You can burn it if it's any used to enlighten the truth.

Mr. Dunbar is innocent and it's up to you to prove it. Just name your fee.

Mr. Gibson, my professional charges are on a fixed scale.

I don't bear it, I'm except when I omit them altogether.

Very well. I imagine that you will be the newspaper reporter of the coroner's inquest.

Yes, very thoroughly.

I don't see that I can add anything that will help you.

But if there are any questions you'd like to ask, I'll answer them.

Thank you.

First, now what are the exact relations between you and Mr. Dunbar?

I suppose you're within your rights in asking such questions at home?

We will agree to suppose so, shall we?

Then I can assure you that my relations with Mr. Dunbar were always those of an employer or the young lady with whom he never conversed or even saw, except in the company of his children.

Oh.

Well, as a man, Mr. Gibson, I've no time or taste the English conversation. I wish you good morning.

What the hell do you mean by this, Mr. Holmes?

My dear sir, the case is difficult to understand.

Without you, I'm giving a false information.

Then I lie.

I'm trying to express it as delicacy as possible, but if you insist on the word, I won't contradict you.

So why, you confound me?

I don't have been noisy, Mr. Gibson. Please don't be noisy. I find it after breakfast, even the smallest argument is unsettling.

I suggest that a stroll in the morning air and a little quiet thought will be gritted the other day.

I suppose I can't make you take the case, but you've done yourself no good this morning, Mr. Holmes.

I've broken stronger men than you.

No man ever crossed me in the best form.

Good morning, Mr. Gibson. You've a great deal yet to learn.

Well, my soul, you're unusual to be here with him.

I just like liars, what's in you.

And I cannot tolerate arrogance, particularly when it's coupled with great wealth.

Now how did you know about his relations with the government?

I didn't, it was pure bluff.

Bluff?

It certainly worked.

It's become a...

Of course he will.

He needs my help too badly. He'll probably change his plan for his halfway down the stairs.

Come in.

Ah, Mr. Gibson.

Just saying to Dr. Watson that I was certain you'd be back.

I've been thinking of Mr. Holmes and I feel that perhaps I was hasty in taking your remarks and miss.

Just to say I can assure you that the relations between Mr. Dunbar and me really don't affect his case.

Surely that is for me to decide, Mr. Gibson.

You see, Mr. Gibson, my friend is like a doctor.

He wants every symptom before he can give his diagnosis.

No, Mr. Holmes.

Far away, Mr. Holmes. What is it you want to know?

The truth.

I can give it to you in very few words.

The thing with I met my wife when I was goldmiding in Brazil.

Your wife was Brazilian by birth, wasn't she, sir?

Yes, Dr. very beautiful.

Well, to make a long story short, I fell in love and married her and brought her to England.

For a few years I realized that we had nothing, absolutely nothing in common.

And then I suppose this young governess, Mr. Dunbar, arrived on the scene.

That's right, Mr. Holmes.

Well, the story should be obvious to you from there.

You will fell in love with his girl.

I suppose her.

Could help it.

Did you suggest marriage to her?

Yes.

So I knew that my wife would never divorce me.

I see.

Then you're made an utterly instant sale proposition to her.

Now look here, Mr. Holmes.

I came to all the question of evidence, not of morals.

I'm not asking for your criticism.

It's only the young ladies say, sir.

Of course, it's me, to touch her case at all.

Now, tell me, sir.

What is your own opinion, Mr. Dunbar's guilt?

It's very black against her.

I can't deny that.

When exploration of the tragedy did come into my head, Mr. Holmes, I give it to you for what it's worth.

Very continuous, Mr. Gibson.

My wife was bitterly jealous.

She was half crazy with her.

She had planned to murder Mr. Dunbar, or we'll say to Threaten the Guru with a revolver and so frighten her into leaving us.

There might have been a struggling which the gun exploded and gone off and shot my wife.

Who was holding it?

Well, that possibility already occurred to me.

It's the only obvious alternative to deliberate murder.

The revolver Holmes was found on the floor of the governor's wardrobe.

And it's a Gibson.

I should like to examine your house in the scene of the murder as soon as possible.

Certainly, Mr. Holmes.

The certain covenry of the local police is still down there.

You'll give you any help you may need.

Excellent.

What's known to all that for the time, J. Boyle, we're catching the next pass trained to win just down.

So if I have to have someone else on the case, I'd rather have you, Mr. Holmes.

The yard gets called in then we local police loses all credit for success.

Generally gets blamed for the failures.

No, I've heard that you play strength.

I know. I appear in an avarital sergeant coming to me.

If I can tear it up, I don't ask to even have my name.

No, I'd say some of your own Sherlock.

I know your friend Dr. Watson can be trusted too.

No, no, no, no. We won't steal any of your thunder.

That's nice and friendly of you, Dr..

Come on, gentlemen. I'll get out of the bridge.

That's where we found Mrs. Gibson's body.

Stuff far from the house here.

Well, I must say, Mr. Gibson has a beautiful state.

Must be 60 or 70 acres.

Oh, nearly twice that, Dr. The Woods back at ours.

There belongs to him too.

Mr. Holmes. Yes, Sergeant?

There's a question I'd like to ask you.

Question I would ask anyone else.

And please ask it.

Don't you think there might be a case against Mr. Gibson himself, sir?

I've been considering that possibility.

Let there, Mr. Dumbass, a bit of all right.

He asked me what it is, wife, out of the way,

and the pistol she was shot with, was this pistol, you know?

Well, was that fact proven?

Yes, Doctor. It was one of a pair that he had.

One of pair. Well, the other.

Well, Mr. Gibson has a lot of far-on's, we've never quite matched that particular pistol.

But the box was made for two.

If it was one of a pair, surely you'd be able to match it.

Well, we have a more laid out at the house if you ought to look and move on.

And we'll do that later.

Ah.

This I presume is poor bridge. That's right, sir.

By Mr. Gibson's body line, right here at the approach to the bridge.

I see. I gathered from the newspaper reports,

the shop was found at Vettico's quarters.

Yes, so Vettico's close.

You know, the right temple, wasn't it?

Just behind it, sir.

How did the body lie, Sergeant?

Oh, I respect, Doctor.

No trace of a struggle, no marks, no weapon.

The load from Mr. Dunbar was clustered and left-end.

Clutch, you say?

Yes, sir. We could hardly open the fingers to get at it.

Ah, that's the...

Greatest importance. It excludes the idea that anyone could have placed the note there after death in order to furnish a false clue.

What is the nut, sir?

What a little of the doctor.

It just said, I will be at Tor Bridge at 9 o'clock and it will assign Grace Dunbar.

Mr. Dunbar, admit writing...

Oh, yes, sir. What was her explanation?

She was saying nothing, said she was saying her defense for the trial.

Yes, it seems odd that Mrs. Gibson was still touching that note.

Seems perfect in that, so to me.

Oh, come now, I'll tell her. I'll give her a thing out logically.

The letter is genuine. It was certainly received some time before the tragedy, say an hour.

Why then was the dead woman still clasping it in her left hand?

Why should she carry it so carefully?

If she's certain, it'd need to refer to the note at all, the interview.

Doesn't strike you as rather strange.

Well, are you put it that way? It does seem a little peculiar.

Hello.

Have you noticed this, Arjun?

Oh, you mean that chip out of that stone on the underside of the parapet of the bridge, sir?

Yes, I noticed that it didn't think nothing of it, though.

It's a very large chip, but it's been done recently.

That is not what's going to work. It's quite just, yeah.

It took some balance to know that.

Amiakling, what's the mill?

Here, over, thanks.

Yes.

The hard knock.

And an curious place, too, for its 15 feet from where we found the body, Mr. Dow.

Yes, from the, I don't see how I could have any connection with Mrs. Gibson.

No matter.

It hasn't.

At its point, where's noting?

There were no footprints, you say, Arjun?

I'm Mr. O.

The groundlessers are, to Zion.

We've been about to dry some, and we have nothing to worry about.

Yeah, to be fair.

You should hear.

No, Arjun.

How much of a bledge doon now, I think we'll get back to the house.

All right.

Say, Zion, I'll share with the far arms, I say.

Oh, who he says are?

Well, funny kind of a bloke, Brazilian.

Brazilian, eh?

Like Mrs. Gibson.

Yes, Mr. O.

It's from the same tablet she does as a matter of fact.

Something very fishy about him, if you ask me.

Not if you'll excuse me, gentlemen.

I'm going to take a little stroll around the grounds.

You started me on a new train of thought in this case, Mr. O.

No, no, no.

I'm delighted, Sergeant.

I'll get back to the house.

I see.

And these are all the far arms and Mr. Gibson's possession.

May I say so?

Except for the revolver that is missing from the case.

Yes, so I say I see him.

May I never see such a collection of guns and revolvers in my life.

Mr. Gibson had many enemies in your.

He always sleep with a loaded pistol beside his bed.

She's a man of great violence.

There have been times when all of us were afraid of him.

Did you have any physical violence towards Mrs. Gibson?

No, Saint-Mar.

I cannot say that I have.

But I have heard him say many terrible things to her.

She would taunt her in front of we servants.

I have heard him do it many times.

Thank you, Sergeant. That will be all.

I'm going to arrange, Saint-Mar.

You know, Holmes, I still think the case against Mr. Dunbar looks very black.

I should agree with you.

If it were not for one fact, the finding of the revolver and her wardrobe on the show.

So, Holmes, that seems to me the strongest evidence of all.

I think not, O. Chef.

We must look for consistency.

Where there is a want of it, we must suspect deception.

I know quite well.

Suppose from up to we visualize you,

in the character of a woman,

a woman cold premeditated fashion is about to murder a rival.

You've planned it.

And it has been written that it must come.

You have a weapon.

The crime is well done.

It has been workmen like and complete.

You need to tell me that after carrying out a craftier crime,

you would be so stupid as to forget the thing,

the incriminating revolver to the bottom of the stream.

Or perhaps in the dense reed, the bordered.

Would you carefully carry it home?

I'm put it in the first place that would be searched.

Your wardrobe?

Well, perhaps in the excitement of the moment one.

Oh, my dear, Chef.

You won't admit that's even possible.

When a crime is cool, it premeditated.

And the means of covering it are cool, it premeditated.

Oh, and if Mr. Dunbar didn't shoot Mrs. Gibson, who the devil did?

I hope I can give the answer to that question once in a while.

When we've made one further visit.

Oh, no.

Who are we going to?

To prison, O. Chef.

Prison?

And to winters to prison to call on Mr. Dunbar, I'm certain.

But the key to this strange mystery lies in her hands.

You'll hear the rest of Dr. Watson's story in just a few seconds.

Just time enough for me to remind you that the easiest way to make good food taste better

is to serve that good food with a good, pet-free wine.

If you like a red wine, well, you want a pet-free California burgundy.

If you'd rather have a white wine, then you want a pet-free California so turn.

But red or white, pet-free burgundy or pet-free so turn,

you're choosing a dinner wine that's sure to turn a simple meal into a feast.

Your whole family and all your friends will love pet-free.

The wine that makes good food tastes better.

And now back to Dr. Watson and tonight Sherlock Holmes adventure,

a problem of tour branch.

Well, uh, Dachy, did you go to winters to prison and see Mr. Dunbar?

We did, Mr. Bato, and now later I found the two of us sitting in a dank and gloomy cell,

talking to one of the most beautiful girls that I've ever seen.

Her bright, flashing eyes and her air of quiet confidence seems to be a little bit more

present, seems sadly out of place in such a setting.

Holmes spoke to her quietly, holding her in the tub bar.

But tell us if you're at full relation with the dead woman.

She hated me, Mr. Holmes. She hated me with all the passion of her distorted mind.

She is still as exactly what happened on the evening of Mrs. Gibson's death.

Well, I received a note from her in the morning.

A note in plowing me to meet her at the bridge after dinner that night.

She said she had something important to say to me.

Did you keep that note, Mr. Dunbar?

No, Dr. She asked me to destroy the note, so I'd been in the school room great.

I saw reasons for such secrecy, but when I did, she asked.

And yet she kept your blind, but it can't be fair. It's interesting.

I mean, what happened when you met her that night?

When I reached the bridge, she was waiting for me.

I won't tell you what she said, but she caught out her whole wild fury and burning horrible words.

I didn't know. I couldn't. It was dreadful even to look at her.

She was like an insane woman, standing there, screaming, disgusting insults at me.

I put my hands to my ears and rushed away.

The world would see a stony when you left her.

Within a few yards of a spot where her body was found later.

And yet presuming she met her death shortly after you left her, you heard no shots.

No, no, I heard nothing. But I was so upset, Mr. Holmes, that I rushed straight back to my room.

Did you leave it again that night?

Yes. When the alarm came that Mr. Gibson was dead, I ran out with the others.

Did you see Mr. Gibson?

Yes, doctor. He had just returned from the bridge when I saw him.

He had sent for the doctor and the police.

This pistol that you found in your room. You've ever seen it before?

Never, Mr. Holmes, I swear.

When was it found in the summer?

Next morning, on a piece of his search.

It was on the floor of my wardrobe where I keep my shoes.

Hmm, you had no idea how long it had been there.

Well, it hadn't been there the morning before.

How do you know?

Because I had tied it up the wardrobe that day.

I see. Then someone must have come into your room and placed the pistol there in order to incriminate you.

I'm certain of anything.

Well, then, how could they have done that?

Well, it could have been at neild time.

Or when I was in the school with the children.

Yes. This done by Onigene is spending season since Gibson's death.

The thing that I noticed that a piece of stone work on me,

on the underside of the parapet of the bridge, it broke in a way.

Could you suggest any possible explanation for that?

Oh, surely. It must have been a mere coincidence this time.

Possibly.

But why should it appear at the very time of the page of the end of the very place?

Could it possibly be that?

Why, yes, of course. Idiot!

Why do you think I think it before? Come around Watson.

Where are we going, Holmes? Back to Fort Bridge, Othella.

As far as we can get there.

How did you find out, Mr. Holmes?

The answer to this mystery, I hope my dear young lady.

You will get news before the day is out.

And meanwhile, take my assurance that the cow's illiterate and the life proof is breaking through.

Well, Mr. Holmes, you're still back here.

Want to be a foul, sir?

I'll send you down a few moments.

May you go by, Mr. Othella.

Yes, sir.

Well, all of twilight, what you wanted for a carolation.

And you, since he's urgent, Watson and I have some recollection that you usually go armed on these excursions, perhaps.

Yes, I'm carrying my roller-wire.

I give it to you, chap.

No, thanks, you're welcome.

I believe your revolver may have a very intimate connection with the mystery we're investigating.

This is joking.

I want my very serious, I want a test to make.

The test to successful, Ms. Dundar, will be free before nightfall,

and the test will depend on the conduct of this revolver of yours.

Yeah, I'll take the precaution of unloading it.

There we are.

Now, a thousand bullet-tine, please.

We'll show you what you was up to, sir.

I'd tie it under the twine like this to the handle of the revolver.

So, Sergeant, see if you can find me a heavy stone with your own little rocker, sir.

Oh, what are you doing?

Trying to reconstruct the community, Mrs. Gibson.

That you've seen me miss the mark before, Watson.

I have an instinct for such things, and yet it's sometimes played me false.

It seemed a certainty when first classed course my mind was done by a cell.

But one drawback of an active mind is that one can always conceive alternative explanations,

which would make us sent a false woman yet.

Oh, well, we can't but try.

Isn't I still a drill?

Thank you, Sergeant.

Now, I tie the other end of the twine to the stone.

What do I mean?

Like that.

Spend it.

Sergeant, will you please take the stone and stretch the twine across the carpet of the bridge there,

so that the stone will swing just here of the water on the other side of the bridge?

Right, sir.

I'll stand up for what, where Mrs. Gibson's body was found.

Add to the sergeant over the carpet.

Oh, is that Mr. Rose?

The stone swing about Jake's feet above the water.

Splendid.

Now, Watson, watch closely.

I raise it up over to my head.

Careful, Holmes, careful.

Nobody out yet has not loaded.

Now, let us imagine I have the lateness of Gibson.

I raise it up over to my head and fire it.

Instant, if you think it's released, I grip it.

There's your answer, Watson, great.

Scott, the revolver fasts back under your hand.

Stuck the carpet as bridge and then the weight of the stone flipped over into the water.

Whilst there ever are more exact demonstration, come on, old fellow.

You're the fool, Mr. Holmes.

That's what you were.

Pull him in my chest.

Get it out.

The second ship on the stonework, the carpet here.

Same size as the foot and the murder.

Mrs. Passant murder at all, it was suicide.

But we can follow the various steps quite clearly.

A note was extracted very cleverly from Mr. Dunbar.

A note which made it appear that she had chosen the scene of the crime.

Mrs. Gibson, in how anxiety that the note should be discovered,

somewhat overdid by holding it in her hand, the last.

That alone should have excited my suspicions earlier than it did.

So she stole one of her husband's revolvers and spotted the other one who was Mr. Dunbar's wardrobe.

Exactly.

After discharging one of the cartridges, which you could easily do in the words

without affecting suspicion, she then went down to the bridge.

But she contrived this exceedingly ingenious method of getting rid of her weapon.

When Mr. Dunbar appeared, she used her last breath and pouring out her hatred.

And then when the girl had left,

carried out her terrible purpose.

And the misreported.

You'll find it with the aid of a grappling hook at the bottom of the stream and also the stone of the string,

with which this vindictive woman addicted to this guy's her own crime

and fought the charge of murder on an innocent victim.

Here, Sergeant, don't forget while your record that my revolver's down there too.

Oh, don't worry, Doctor. I'll get some grappling hooks right away.

I must say, Holmes, you saw this case simply quite a brilliant bit.

I disagree, old chef.

And I feel that you will not improve my reputation by adding the case of the Tor Bridge mystery to your animals.

Oh, nonsense. Was that ridiculous?

Oh, no, it is no, boy.

I've been sluggish in the mind and wanting in that mixture of imagination and reality,

which is the very pieces of my art.

I confess that the chip in the stone work was a sufficient clue to the yes to fool solution and die blame myself.

I'm not having a change at soon.

Well, personally, I agree with the sergeant's opinion of you.

Oh, what was that, old boy?

You're a blooming magician, Mr. Holmes. That's what you are, a blooming magician.

Well, Doctor Holmes really was a magician.

That is, if you did find Mrs. Gibson's revolver and your own instinct.

Well, hopefully you find him all right.

You don't think I'd tell you the story otherwise, do you?

Why do you take me to the war anyway?

Well, now that you ask, I'll tell you.

Hey, thank you for a very charming gentleman, a wonderful storyteller and a fine host.

Oh, that's really nice.

Well, you're welcome.

I'm glad you're here.

I'm glad you're here.

I'm glad you're here.

I'm glad you're here.

I'm glad you're here.

I'm glad you're here.

I'm glad you're here.

I'm glad you're here.

I'm glad you're here.

Well, you are a gentleman of the old school.

What?

You're a good woman.

You're a good woman.

You're a good woman.

You're a good woman.

And you are a perfect host.

Oh, I'm glad you're here.

And you were here tonight was wonderful.

Oh, it was, eh?

And that wine, what kind was it?

It was perfectly fine.

And you know it.

It's a nice idea to know that you were leading up to something, Mr. Bartil.

You should be ashamed yourself.

You will do anything to get a job.

Oh, a perfectly fine.

Oh, I can't hear that, Blamey.

Well, honestly, Dr. I'm at everything I said.

But you don't really want me to stop talking about Petri wine, do you?

After all, it's worth talking about, isn't it?

What other wine is made with a loving care that goes into Petri wine?

Don't forget, Petri wine is made by the Petri family.

Wine making is their business.

Why they've been making wine for generations,

handing down from father to son, from father to son,

all their skill and knowledge and experience.

You can be sure, Petri family really knows plenty about the fine art of turning luscious grapes into delicious wine.

That's why, whether you want a wine for a before dinner, with dinner, or for any time,

you can't go wrong with a Petri wine, because Petri took time to bring you good wine.

And now, Dr. Watson, what new story are you planning to tell us next week?

Well, next week is about tell.

I'm good at telling an adventure, but Holmes and I had him in the oriental magnificence.

The Maharashtra just passed in India.

India? Sounds intriguing.

What were you and Sherlock Holmes doing out there, Dr. Watson?

We were going to have to wait until next week to answer that question.

We were.

But I can tell you that it was one of the weirdest problems that we ever have to solve.

I call the story the vanishing elephant.

Tonight Sherlock Holmes' adventure is written by Dennis Green and Anthony Boucher,

and is adapted from the South-Earthaconian Doyle's story, The Problem of Tour Bridge.

Mr. Rap von appears through the courtesy of Metro Goen Mayor,

and Mr. Bruce through the courtesy of Universal Pictures, where they are now starring in the Sherlock Holmes series.

The Petri wine company of San Francisco, California, invites you to tune in again next week,

same time, same station.

Oh, the Petri family took the time to bring your such good wine.

Oh, when you eat and when you cook, remember Petri wine.

To make good food tastes better.

Remember.

Pet.

Pet.

Pet.

Petri.

Waaah.

This is Harry Bartel's egg tonight for the Petri family.

Sherlock Holmes comes to you from our Hollywood studios.

This is the neutral of broadcasting.