The Whistler and Escape

This is the Relic Radio Show-Old Time Radio Entertainment still standing the test of

Time from RelicRadio.com

The Signal Oil Program, the Whistler

That Whistle is your signal for the Signal Oil Program, the Whistler.

I am the Whistler and I know many things for I walk by night.

I know many strange tales hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadow.

I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak.

Yes, friends, it's time for the Signal Oil Program, the Whistler.

Rated tops in popularity for a longer period of time than any other West Coast program in radio history.

And Signal Gasoline is tops two tops in quality.

It takes extra quality, you know, to give you extra mileage.

And Signal is the famous Gofather Gasoline.

So look for the Signal Circle sign in yellow and black that identifies friendly dealer-owned signal stations from Canada to Mexico.

And now the Whistler Strange Story, the human catalyst.

In the field of chemistry, there are curious substances known as catalysts.

Curious in that they're mere presence together with other substances causes of violent reaction in which the catalyst themselves don't take part.

In a way they simply stand on the sideline, untouched by the reaction they cause, unaware of what they've done when it's all over.

There are catalysts too among human beings.

And on the night of February 3rd and the terrace of a resort hotel in Miami Beach.

A 17-year-old girl named Arlene Foster was about to become one.

She didn't know it, of course, and like catalysts in chemistry she never would.

There in the terrace, in a simple conversation with her teenage date, Arlene was preparing to step into the role.

Orville?

Yeah.

There's something I better tell you.

I want to be fair, orville.

Look, Arlene.

If it's another confession, I'm just not interested.

I'm crazy about you as your own.

That's just it. That's why I have to tell you no.

Vic's coming back, orville.

It's only a few weeks off.

Vic, who?

Vic Stanzy.

The orchestra leader that was here last year.

He's bringing his band here to the hotel just as his promises.

Whoa.

What's so important about that?

What?

I don't want to deceive you, Orville.

You see, Vic and I love each other so far.

What are you talking about, Wayne?

He's an old man.

He must be 30.

How about you?

Orville.

Sometimes love doesn't pay any attention to it.

You see, the boy left last season.

Vic and I had an understanding.

At that time, Vic Stanfield was many miles to Miami Beach.

Many miles away from the catalyst.

Vic was in Cleveland, Ohio, attending a funeral service.

Moving up when it was over, the console the widow of a dear friend of mine.

I don't appreciate it.

Mrs. Westover, I hope you know how I feel.

Oh, you're Mr. Stanfield, aren't you?

Yes, Vic Stanfield.

I was one of Carol's best friends.

Well, yes, of course, Mr. Stanfield.

Oh, if there's anything I can do, perhaps drive you home?

Well, that's very nice of you, Mr. Stanfield.

My car is right out front.

Here we are.

You all right?

Yes.

How was I?

Wonderful.

Wasn't easy.

You don't think any of them...

No, no.

What do you suspect?

No.

Well, what now?

We married in a month.

We'll go south with a van and spend our honeymoon in land.

Oh, that seems awfully fun.

Look, sweetheart, let's not get into that again.

We could hold a ceremony right in that church ten minutes from now.

Let them talk all they want.

But Vic, you don't do things that clean.

Baby, there's not a trace, not a scrap of evidence.

You're relaxed, baby.

Relax.

You're relaxed.

You left your husband's fatal accident up to me.

Now, do me another favor.

Let me take care of the future too.

With the prologue of the human catalyst,

the signal oil company is bringing you another strange story

by the Whistler.

Well, friends, since this is St. Patrick's Day,

you've no doubt been getting your share of Kilarney with your radio program.

I had thought of describing how your friends would turn green with envy

when you power your car with signal gasoline

because today, signal drives the pings and sluggishness out of a motor

and Patrick drove the snakes out of Ireland.

Or I thought a reminding you that your wallet would feel lucky

is a four-leaf clover because of signals good-miley.

Ah, but sure in Begoro when you buy gasoline, there's really just one thing that matters.

You'll want to be sure that you're getting the tops in quality.

The gasoline that gets top efficiency from your motor.

And that's something your own speedometer can tell you

because when your motor runs more efficiently,

you not only enjoy quicker starting, faster pickup,

and smoother, knock-free power, but also more miley.

Good reason why we're so proud of signal's famous miley

and why we say to be sure of the tops in gasoline quality.

There are just two things to remember.

One, it takes extra quality to go farther.

And two, signal is the famous go-father gasoline.

Begoro?

And now back to the quistula.

Yes, it was clean, Dick.

So clean that you and Thalia could flaunt your love at them.

Throw it in their faces, let them think and talk all they wanted.

Because you're sure that in killing Carl West over big,

you committed the perfect murder.

It's a month almost to the day when you and Thalia

drive up the Lake Shore Highway to the little town of Fairport

to be married by a justice of the peace.

And that night you're on your way to Miami Beach

and a new life that lies ahead for both of you.

And in your complete happiness together,

there's certainly no thought that each mile on the train

brings you closer and closer to the catalyst.

He's on his way, Orville.

Fix on his way back to me.

Cut it out, Arlene, you're just being silly.

What's the matter, Vicki?

Huh?

You get to cry at...

Oh.

I don't know.

Oh, tired, I guess.

Uh, I'm tired too.

At the Vicki.

You bet.

You?

You know I am.

You're not worried or anything.

I mean about Carl.

Looks.

We'd hard forget, Carl.

He's gone.

He's off the bus.

And there's Jeff.

You wouldn't.

And that's why it's so perfect.

Because we're the only two people who know.

The only ones we'll ever have to worry about.

And with us forgetting it.

Right, right.

It's all over your life and Cleveland.

Everything just like it never happened, baby.

Baby, we got a lot of living until the long way to go to get it.

First off, Miami Beach.

So there it is, Vic.

The aftermath of a murder you're certain is perfect.

The happily ever after part of the story.

It's like a chemical solution with two ingredients, quiet and lurk.

In a stage of precarious peace awaiting the catalyst.

Naturally, you don't know it, Vic.

You and failure arrive at Miami Beach and check into your hotel suite.

The little human catalyst, Arlene Foster.

Very close to you now.

It's suffering from some very shocking news.

Arlene, what in the world is in that I wish you?

I'm sorry, Molly.

You haven't eaten a decent meal for a week.

You wouldn't understand.

Well, I have a pretty good idea what it is.

The same thing happened last year about this afternoon.

It's never happened before.

Anything like this, Eddie?

I'm glad I've known Ben like this when your father told me he's going to manage this hotel.

I'd have stayed up north.

Who is it this time?

They say it.

It's kind of saxophone.

Or is it Victor Stanfield himself?

Who can you do it?

How can you say it?

Wait a minute, Arlene.

Wonderful.

It's really easier.

Arlene walks slowly down the hall, stops at the telephone.

It begins to think.

Mary.

Victor, Mary.

What?

What he called his lover?

Somebody ought to tell her what she's doing to him.

He has no right to be his wife.

He doesn't love her.

He can't possibly love her.

Somebody ought to call her on the telephone.

Telephone.

Telephone.

Excuse me, Vic, I'll get it.

Sure.

Hello?

Mr. Stanfield?

Yes.

There's something you should know, Mr. Stan.

About your husband.

Who is this?

I'd rather not say.

I'm calling to tell you you made a very serious mistake.

A dangerous one.

Just a minute.

Victor doesn't love you, Mr. Stanfield.

He never did.

He's been in love with someone else for a long time.

You think I'm going to listen to you?

That's all I have to say.

You may not believe it now.

But you'll find out soon enough.

I've told you.

Well, there's something you ought to know, whoever you are, right?

Hello?

Hello?

Hello?

Oh, the...

It's kind of funny.

I like that, Vic.

Sorry.

I had to run right up the minute I got off the plane.

A lot of shots, if you hadn't, Janie.

I ordered for Buddha.

See?

It seems like a year.

Um...

Oh, I'll tell you.

Darling, this is Janie Long.

I've mentioned her to you.

You used to sing with a band.

How do you do?

Yeah.

Janie's back with us for this engagement, darling.

Been a long time, Janie.

You know, I'll tell you.

We two practically started out together.

That's right.

Mm-hmm.

Well, I'd better be getting down to my room.

Got down the pack, and you know how it is.

Take care, Vic.

See you in an hour, so...

Oh, yeah, yeah.

You bet.

He's a lovely girl.

Yeah, as well.

Yeah.

Oh, let me see where it was.

Yeah, yeah.

Here we are.

What's that?

Uh, there's a property assignment.

Darling, I meant to bring it up before this,

but I just didn't get around with it.

Look, I think we'd better put your property.

Or your assets, in fact, in my name.

What?

Oh, no.

Don't look at me like that, darling.

I thought I'd have to earn money.

It's a legal thing, dear.

A way of protecting your share of Carl's estate,

many stray creditors that he hadn't believed kicking around, you know.

I had the papers drawn up yesterday afternoon,

and I...

That's a matter, then.

Vic, give me a cigarette, will you?

Sure.

Thanks.

Now...

tell me how long have you been thinking about it?

Thinking about it.

Why?

I'm just curious.

I think I have a right to believe it.

$180,000, roughly, and property in Cleveland.

I don't like the way you sit there.

And I'm sorry.

But I think you better explain it more carefully.

I was about to, my darling,

when that phone call...

I wonder what it is.

Who was that call from, hey?

It was nothing important.

No.

I think it was.

But who do you know in town?

Who'd be calling you on the telephone, huh?

Worried, Vic?

Maybe.

It's there.

Because I've decided I won't tell you what it was,

and as far as those papers go, I just don't think I'll sign them.

Any particular reason?

I don't know.

Intuition, maybe.

I think it's something else.

There's no point going into that now.

I'm few downstairs in ten minutes.

Good night.

The reactions well underway now, Vic.

Something's wrong. You know it.

You can feel it knowing away inside you the rest of the evening.

But you get all of yourself from the jobs over.

Yes, it's ridiculous letting your imagination run away like that.

Failure is all right.

She's got to be all right.

She has your life in her hand.

It's almost two in the morning when you let yourself into the dark apartment on the tenth floor.

Hoping she's thought it over too.

At the strange way she turned on you when you mentioned the assignment papers

didn't mean what you were afraid of meant.

Glad you are.

No, no, skip the light.

Look, Betty, there's a few things we've got to get straight.

You are.

You sound very determined.

I am.

We can't afford to have any secrets between us, Betty.

Have we?

I think we have.

That phone call, for instance.

Why won't you talk about it?

What are you doing?

Maybe I should ask you the same question.

What are you doing to me?

Is it something necessary to sound like?

What are you doing to me?

Is it something necessary to sound everything over to you?

That's what he's mind.

I can't believe it that way.

Well, that's it. That's what he did.

That's the end of it.

But you never really understood me.

I can be practical, too.

Of course, you don't want to overlook a couple of other little considerations like marriage, like love.

Love?

Yeah, I love.

Sound like it's out there.

Then maybe you ought to add things up again.

I plan the whole thing, I lie.

I commit murder for you.

I see it straight through, then suddenly it isn't enough.

You're not satisfied, isn't it?

I understand you.

It is quite clearly.

Then it's worse.

Well, how can you talk this way when I'm out on a limb alone?

Not a chance to tie you into any part of it.

You try to tell me nothing is changed.

But you're just being practical.

What kind of understanding is that, Betty?

Is it any good for me, is it?

It's a good thing.

It's a good thing that you can see.

I'll do it all.

I can hear only one thing.

The money I want.

But there's a very good reason, Betty.

Yes, so I'll discover.

Good night.

Good night.

Good night.

Good night.

Good night.

Good night.

Good night.

Mark, Mr. Winnier, hire a private detective.

You at least have to tell him what the job's all about.

Look, I've told you all you need an old Mr. Schinnig.

It's wrong what you're wise.

Are you afraid she's thinking of suicide or something?

I don't know.

Look, if you want the job, simply do as I ask.

Follow her.

Wherever she goes, follow her and keep me informed.

Okay, Mr. Schinnig.

I'll never leave that hotel without me tagging right along.

It's a stalemate now.

Both of you quiet.

Feeling the tenseness in the air.

Waiting for something to happen.

Fan about a week later on a downtown street.

Jambs get killed.

What do you want?

Why are you following me?

Don't try to deny it.

I saw you yesterday too.

And the day before that.

I don't know what you're talking about.

You're doing it for here, aren't you?

My husband.

Listen, lady, you're talking crazy.

Why would your husband have someone following you?

There's a good reason.

Like what?

Money makes people do things like this.

Money?

My money.

It was here, Steve.

If what?

If anything happens.

Kill me.

Why didn't you do it now?

Why are you waiting for it?

It was me, lady.

I'd better go see her, guy.

Look, the reasonable chance.

Why didn't you level with me?

Where do you get off dragging me in on a dirty day like this?

But what's wrong?

Everything, the whole setup.

I like money as much as the next guy.

See, and I need jobs.

But I'm stepping out of this one.

Mr. Right now.

I'm getting out of here.

Don't even have to pay me.

Look, I don't get you, Shan.

You heard me.

I'm getting out.

It's almost out in the open now.

It's this day.

But not quite.

Because you're not even sure what's happening.

Not able to talk it all out with a one person you should go to with a problem.

Because right now,

she is that problem.

And you're alone.

That's what's so terrifying, isn't it, Sis?

You're complete helpless.

And you have no way of knowing, of course.

But now, tonight, the band assembles on the platform

as you check quickly through the evening dance program.

Failure is facing Jeannie Long in her dressing room.

It's a very strange question, Daniel.

Under the circumstances, I don't think it is.

In any case, how I feel about Vic is my own business.

You can't expect me to believe you've never been in love with him.

I think it's pretty silly.

Because I think so.

I think you're still in love with him, maybe.

But why do this the hardware, Daniel?

Why not ask Vic how he feels?

I know how he feels.

Well, you need me speechless, darling.

I'm not surprised you need a Vic, Mikey.

I'm going to settle a few things for him tonight.

Vic, could I talk to you a minute?

Not right now, it's only these.

Okay, boys. Let's take it.

One. Two.

It's a struggle, isn't it, Vic?

You're a good job, begin.

As you try to concentrate on the music,

I'll do it.

I'll do it.

I'll do it.

I'll do it.

I'll do it.

I'll do it.

I'll do it.

I'll do it.

I'll do it.

I'll do it.

I'll do it.

As you try to concentrate on the music and the piano in front of me.

While your mind is on other side.

The money, the property is mine, I intend to leave it that way.

Those are the raw materials I'm saving.

Something for a man's mind to work on.

Particularly a mind like yours.

With murder lying underneath everything else.

Yes, you can close your eyes there at the piano and hear things like this.

I love you, don't be ridiculous, Mickey.

I wanted someone to do a job for me and you came along.

Also, you let me go ahead and money down like the property that I wanted.

And I will have to pay for it with my sleeping.

No, no, she won't get away with it.

You're trembling, aren't you being?

Sitting there terrified by your own thoughts.

Almost afraid to think of what you might have to do to escape.

Intermission date.

Oh, oh, yeah.

Yeah, sure.

And now you're going to listen to me.

Tell you.

What about tell you?

Well, she said the artist sings.

Something about settling things for you tonight.

I knew it.

What?

That little...

Big what is it?

Settle things, huh?

You know now you've got to kill her.

And it has to happen fast.

In the lobby outside the ballroom, you stop.

Remember something that driver detects you said about suicide?

You can make it look like suicide, Mickey.

Just by taking the time to set it up, getting yourself a witness.

Yeah.

The telephone girl will do.

Edel.

Oh, what is it?

My wife, she in a room.

I think she went up just a little while ago.

Oh, yeah.

Is she all right?

Did she say anything about not disturbing her?

I don't know.

I don't know.

She's been very upset lately.

I don't know what it is, but the way she's acting, I'm afraid she might do something to herself.

I better get up there right away.

Edel.

Edel.

You step back.

Remembering somehow that you have your own.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know what it is.

But the way she's acting, I'm afraid she might do something to herself.

I better get up there right away.

Edel.

Edel.

You step back.

Remembering somehow that you have your own key.

Fumble nervously opening the door.

Edel.

You cross swiftly to the bedroom.

Glancing in.

Wonder where she could be.

Edel.

Turning.

You catch sight of the door to the terrace.

They're both standing open.

A slight breeze rustling the draper.

Edel, I just want to talk.

What's the matter, Edel?

What are you doing out there on the terrace?

I don't think I'm near me.

Can't do this.

What we're going to talk, Fed, you don't back away from me.

I don't believe me.

Fed, you look out.

Not the radio.

Come over.

The whistler will return in just a moment with a strange ending to tonight's story.

Meantime, another word about those Oscars, which the movie industry is going to award next Saturday.

On last week's whistler, I mentioned that if they gave Oscars for gasoline, signal would no doubt win the honors for outstanding performance.

Well, by the same token, the Oscar for Best Supporting Roll would surely go to signal oil dealers for the many valuable safety services which they offer free.

For instance, this month, all signal service stations throughout the west from Canada to Mexico will check your fan belt and radiator hose without charge.

The chances are it's been a long time since your radiator hose and fan belt were checked because most drivers and most service station operators too never give a thought to these two little items until they break down completely and leave you in real trouble.

Moreover, if the inspection shows your fan belt or radiator hose to be in dangerous condition, signal dealers can in most cases replace them while you wait.

So for your own piece of mind and carefree miles during the month ahead, drop into a signal station this week for this free signal safety service.

Your friendly signal dealer will enjoy this opportunity to demonstrate to you the more thorough, more conscientious service cars get at dealer-owned signal service station.

And I'll back to the whistler.

It's all over, Vic. In one terrible moment, Australia falls back over the terrace rail and your mind worlds with a thought that here is the end product of your perfect murder.

You don't know it, of course, but the human catalyst has done her work well.

And all that's left is you draw back from the rail with a shutter.

This is the realization that your own life is at stake if you don't get out of these rooms before anyone comes up.

You're sure there's time, but you cross swiftly toward the door, thankful that you left the idea of suicide with a switchboard girl.

She's got to vacuum up this. It's the only hope you have now.

That's a sand field. That I ran into you. I'm Lieutenant Harris and my ammo police.

I don't understand.

Why don't you understand, feel, your wife inside?

I don't know. I just stepped in the door myself.

Oh, well, have a look. Well, you see, she called us today.

She called us. She was quite upset.

Oh, oh, I know. She's connecting with strange people.

Why don't you have to say with quite strange sand field, but maybe I better step in.

Yeah, sure, but I...

Well, Lieutenant, what's so all about? I can't understand what you're doing.

Yeah, great.

Yes? What?

Huh? That must have just happened.

No, it's all right. I'm with her husband long.

Well, sand field, maybe you already know this.

Just for the record, that call was to let us know that your wife's body is out on her pavement.

And floor is down.

Oh, no.

That's the terrace over there, huh?

Pushed you right over the rail.

Oh, well, please, it was an accident. I can't problem with an accident.

Maybe a chance, sand field, I don't know.

You'll have your chance, of course.

But once you called us just 20 minutes ago,

she said she was certain you were going to kill her.

Hey, Arlene, I can't get over it.

Why do I move?

The papers today about big sand field being convicted of murder.

The Miami police and that private detective,

both telling the jury Mrs. Sandfield said she was afraid he was going to kill her.

Oh, yes. I wonder why he did such a thing, Arlene?

I don't know.

Only my gosh.

The whole thing must have hit you pretty hard, Arlene.

I mean, the way you felt about Sandfield.

Well, when you know Arlene, it was terrible.

As far as anything personal between big and me,

I guess I was just silly.

See, Arlene? There's something you should know.

You mean about our going steady again?

No. Rodney Maynard and his men of musical coming here next week.

Yeah, I know that.

Yes, but, Arlene, there's something I've never told you about me and Rodney.

Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program of Whistler.

Each Wednesday night at the same time,

brought to you by the signal oil company,

marketers of signal gasoline and motor oil,

and fine quality automotive accessory.

The signal has asked me to remind you to get the most driving pleasure

at ride at sensible speed, be courteous,

and obey traffic regulations.

It may save a life. Possibly your own.

Featured in tonight's story were Betty Lou Gerson and Tony Barrett.

The whistle was produced by George W. Allen,

with story by Joel Malone and Harold Swanton,

and music by Wilbur Heck,

and was transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service.

Next Wednesday for a full hour of mystery over most of these stations,

tune in a half hour earlier and enjoy the same as well as the Whistler.

It was Marvin Miller speaking.

It's a CVS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.

Tired of the everyday grind,

ever dream of a life of romantic adventure,

what I 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.

You are kneeling in the church of a Caribbean village,

seeking the sanctuary it might offer.

While slowly walking down the aisle,

carefully studying each bowed head,

is the brute of a man who has come to kill you.

Listen now, as escape brings you less crutchfield story, violent night.

I came awake suddenly, wide awake.

It's a trick you learn around the back countries of the Caribbean.

If you want to stay alive, I didn't move.

I didn't make a sound.

Just stared into the darkness.

And listen.

Then I came again.

Somebody was on the veranda.

I slid off the cut, reached for my pistol on the table,

and stood up.

Barefooted, I moved quietly across the room,

and stopped by the shutters.

Then you are a gravy.

Who is it?

The pizza.

It is the pizza.

The pizza.

I am come to warn you is terrible danger.

Are you alone?

See.

All right, wait a second.

Quickly.

What's wrong?

What's the matter?

Look, toward the village.

Good morning again.

What?

What?

Fire.

What's burning?

It is the station of the police,

the Federalist Army barrack, other places.

It is the revolution, isn't it?

Revolution.

Who is it?

Who is behind it?

I can't.

What?

He has come out of the jungle again.

One thousand men are following him,

and now more from the village.

He has guns, trucks, cars, radios.

He is called himself governor of the district.

Governor.

He won't last 48 hours.

Everyone say it is revolution all over the country.

You must leave your plantation and go quickly.

What, Peter?

You...

You think he's still remembers?

I look around.

We'll never forget.

Not ever.

Not before one of you is dead.

Maybe you're right.

All right, thanks, Peter. Thanks for everything.

Ten minutes later, I lay hidden in the clump of bamboo

by the irrigation ditch,

thirty yards from my house,

watching a convoy of army trucks swing in from the highway,

and roar up the road to the plantation.

I could have struck up then, run away,

but I had to know the yards.

No, but their other crown was making it personal,

whether he's still remembered.

The trucks get into a stop.

Men with rifles piled up,

circled the house,

spotlights cut through the night,

lit up my bungalow, probing at the shutters.

But I didn't see him until he stepped into the circle of lights

and called out.

Mr. Rady?

Mr. Valy, or gravy?

A lacron.

Your westerners time is through gravy.

Your mayors will come out.

As you're catered in the states,

but as cunning and cruel as the wildest Indian in the bush.

Are you afraid of me, Mr. Rady?

Are you afraid to come out and greet that old friend

who has not forgotten you for a minute?

A lacron, leader of a revolution,

self-styled governor of the district,

had he taken time out to lead this raid personally.

Yes, but Peter was right.

He hadn't forgotten.

He blasted the boat off my door with a Tommy gun

and then with a half a dozen of his men,

he plunged into the house.

It was time to get out.

I'd wanted to know the odds

and now I knew them.

I didn't have a chance.

I ran for nearly two miles

through my coffee groves along the banks of the ditches

through the patches of bush before I finally played off.

I was beside an arrow road leading back into the hills.

I dropped down by the edge of it,

tried to get my wind back.

A lacron.

But two years he'd waited.

And now he was coming after me.

He'd been trying to start a revolt then.

I dragged him away from my workman,

taking his gun away from him,

and beaten him to a pulp.

And now he was back in control of the whole district

with a wolf packet of his heels.

And then suddenly I noticed the headlights of a car

coming down the road from the hills.

The lights were too close together and too low to the ground

for an army truck.

There were ranches up in the hills,

resorts it might be a private car.

It was worth a chance.

I worked feverishly.

The car was close now and moving fast.

I gathered an arm full of brush through it

and the road struck a match and set fire to it.

And then I dropped down in the ditch and waited.

All right, easy now.

Don't move.

Who are you?

What do you want?

I want your car.

No, it is impossible.

Let me go.

Oh no, you don't.

Let go of that.

Stop it.

You're hurting me.

Take your hands off.

Well, that's a lot of gun for a lady.

I will take care of that.

You fool.

Do you know who I am?

No.

I am the daughter of the governor of this district.

You're what?

It's true.

I am the daughter.

I dirty had a daughter,

but who'd ever expect that fat pig to have one that looks like you?

I promise you saying you are.

If you go on with this,

I will see that you are shot against the wall.

You're too late.

Your father already has that idea.

More likely a worse one.

You know, I think you're going to come in awfully handy before morning.

You think so?

What do I call you?

What's your name?

Maria.

All right, Maria, let's get this straight.

I got one chance in the thousand of staying alive.

And if I can help that chance, I'll do anything.

You understand?

No, please.

No, we're going to get out of here.

We're going to get out together.

Whatever happens.

Your father gets me and I get you.

All right, now get the car started.

We came off the side road two miles from Monte Miguel,

across the main highway and took the old road towards San Vicente.

It was 110 miles to the capital,

but the sports car was fast.

It could outrun any army vehicle.

Alcatraz men might have.

And there was a good chance he hadn't yet blockaded the San Vicente highway.

Now it was a good dream.

At last it for two miles.

Then it popped like a soap bubble.

In the road ahead to nowhere.

Like trucks, men moving.

What do you want me to do?

Break, set the brakes.

Come on.

And get this thing turned around and make a blast.

Get it?

Get it?

Get it?

Are Migos.

Bring it here.

Bring it for Alcatraz.

For Alcatraz.

Z.

Z.

All right, come on.

Step on it.

Let's get out of here.

Come on.

Faster.

When I was close, plenty close.

Well, we're still like you.

We could have barred straight into it.

But they blocked us, but at least they didn't get us.

And we still got a chance of circling back.

But what's wrong?

What is it?

I don't know.

I'm not doing anything to them.

Yeah, wait a minute.

Yeah.

Yeah, I can smell it.

A bullet must have smashed up in the gas tank.

Wait, we're out of petrol?

Yeah.

Get it open to the side.

All right.

No farther, clear over to the canal bank.

The irrigation that's gone.

All right.

Come on, get out.

Come on, hurry.

What are we going to do?

Here.

Give me a hand.

We're going to get it rolling.

Come on.

Into the ditch.

All right, come on, let's go.

Here.

What do you mean?

There'll be a long hair on a second fine where we sank the car.

Come after us.

We don't have much time.

Now, come on, let's get across that ditch.

In the water?

No.

I will not do it.

I will not go into the water.

Oh, you won't.

All right.

Hold your breath.

Hold your breath.

Now, just take it easy.

Quit fighting and relax, will you?

I'll get you across.

It's only 20 feet wide.

All right, easy now.

All right, here we go.

Now, grab the bank.

You know.

Oh, it doesn't take me.

Oh, my life.

I'm going to kill you.

Maybe not.

I might have to kill you first.

Now, come on.

I am not going into that jungle with you.

No matter what you do to me, I am not going.

Come on, move.

Alachran had outmaneuvered me, outflanked me.

There was no use trying to break south

toward the capital.

He had the whole area sold up.

So I decided on a gamble.

I turned back.

Headed for the last place on earth he'd looked for me.

The village of Mothamy-Gallitz.

It was nearly midnight when we entered the village.

I kept a tight grip on Maria's arm,

and hurried her through the back streets and alleys,

heading toward the Peter's room on the other side of town.

Though we didn't make it.

Of the troll of rebels came around the corner

and moved tortoise.

We couldn't turn and run.

We couldn't go on.

We were trapped.

But we'd stopped in front of a house

though flush against the street.

The door was only a few feet away.

I stepped over and tried it.

It was unlocked.

I drew my gun and pushed the door open.

All right, come on.

There's no one in.

Insight, quick.

What are you going to do?

I'm going to kill you.

I'm going to kill you.

I'm going to kill you.

I'm going to kill you.

I'm going to kill you.

I'm going to kill you.

I'm going to kill you.

What are you going to do?

Wait for the patrol to pass.

I'll be quiet.

Here they come.

Not a sound, Maria.

Shh, quiet.

Oh, that was lucky.

Well...

Double-lucky, in fact.

The head man here has gone out and left some clothes already for me.

And aloneis, camisa, salafi, some bravo.

I don't know if we can find something for you.

What do you mean?

Or dress like we are, we don't have a chance.

Up here.

Here.

This ought to do it.

Catch it.

Here's a shore for you.

You can throw it over your head and keep it around your face.

If you think I am going to change my clothes...

Get behind that curtain and do it anywhere you want,

but get into that dress and do it fast.

In a few minutes, we were back into the marketplace...

walking rapidly.

And then as we pass the great doors of the church...

I've frozen my tracks.

Alicron.

He was lounging in the back of a touring car.

Bat and evil.

Here.

This way.

Into the church.

If he sees me, we're finished.

Slow and solemnly.

All right, up the steps.

And keep your head down.

Ord have scared the way the vimages go in.

All right.

Up toward the front.

All right.

All right, in here.

All right, this is far enough.

Now kneel down.

Well, we're safe for the moment, but...

Alicron.

Alicron.

Alicron.

Don't move, Maria. Don't cry out the guns.

Press against your side.

Keep your head down and pretend you're praying.

Better yet, who really pray?

You are listening to Vile of Night, tonight's presentation on Escape.

Next Monday night on CBS Radio, Ronald Reagan stars in the Lux Radio Theatre adaptation of Carbeen Williams...

...with Wendell Corey and Gene Hagen in their original screen roles.

Next Monday night, when you will also want to hear Tyrone Power in Suspense's production, the guilty always run.

And now, Escape and the second act of Vile of Night.

The Padre, white haired and old, melted the order and went on with his prayer.

Not hearing the summons from the back of the church.

Some of the kneeling villagers turned a look and then turned back quickly.

Beneath my Sorapia, kept the gun pressed tight against Maria's side.

Vile of Night.

Alicron was walking up the aisle to the door.

Padre!

Alicron was walking up the aisle to the front of the church, moving slowly and deliberately,

stopping the glance along each row and studying the kneeling worshipers.

You cannot come here with out of my sun. This is a place of peace.

And I am a very peaceful man, Padre.

As long as I am not denied the things I want.

What is it to want?

Man, I am told they are so woven with him.

They may have come in here.

I will only need a moment more to finish checking your followers.

No, I cannot permit that.

Padre, you know who I am.

Now, we can be friends or we can be enemies as you choose.

Of course, learning that dirty is not to my liking.

Go!

Wait outside, if you wish.

I am on the point of dismissing the congregation.

You may watch them as they be.

You are clever at compromising, Padre.

I am sure we will learn to understand each other.

Amos!

Nami says, that did me an hour.

That is all my children, by and from you.

My son, what is it, Padre?

This way, follow me, both of you.

Come quickly.

Come on, Maria.

Yes.

In here.

If you are taking a big chance, Padre, if he finds out, you are in trouble.

You have heard of Sanctuary, my son, the Sanctuary of the church.

Yes, of course.

Unfortunately, I cannot assure you that Sanctuary.

But perhaps I can help you in some small way to find your own Sanctuary.

Thank you, Padre.

In a few minutes, when everyone has gone, you will be certain.

Who is it?

One moment.

I am informed that you are hiding a man and woman from the congregation.

Open this door.

Have patience.

Now.

Here, behind the desk, there is a way out.

Go now, both of you, quickly.

The passage opens on an alleyway behind the church.

Open now.

Very much, children.

Thank you, Padre.

Thank you, Maria.

When we came into the open alleyway, we were on the very edge of the village on a crooked path

that ran between the walls and backs of the buildings on one side,

and the dark dense mass of the via Diablo jungle on the other.

But for a moment, we were safe.

Maria.

What?

Padre.

In the church.

Would you really have killed me?

Look, I'd hate to do anything that hurt you.

But if I have to, I will.

Why do you hate me so much?

Hate you, I don't hate you.

Why should I hate you?

You're my ace in the hole.

I've got nothing against you personally.

You just picked a wrong man for a father, that's all.

You're good enough.

Wait, hold it.

Barry, don't shoot it to a late child.

Yes, it's only a child, but he knows who we are.

And you'll have a whole town up here in two minutes.

There's no choice left now.

Barry, what are you doing?

Where are we going?

Into the jungle.

Into the via Diablo.

Barry.

Yes.

I've got to rest.

I can't go on much further.

All right.

All right, Maria.

We'll slow down.

Take it easy.

I don't think we've got to find us now.

I think, maybe.

We've got a chance.

Can't we stop, Barry?

No.

No, in ten minutes, we wouldn't be able to move again.

Well, the sky's beginning to lighten.

It'll be dawn and less than an hour.

But you can't chase us forever.

You've got a revolution on his hands.

Barry.

It's all been so strange.

I could nightmare.

All mixed up.

I hated you at first.

Oh, forget it.

I didn't know who you were, what you were doing to me.

And finally, I began to understand.

I...

I don't hate you when I'm over here.

Good, Maria.

It works out better that way.

In fact, I'm afraid of...

I like you very much.

Why?

Afraid?

Yes.

Maria, we'll be out of this before long.

What is it?

What is it, Barry?

There's a dog.

What?

Yeah, they're trailing us with dogs.

No, but where we go now?

They'll find us.

Oh, Barry!

Come on, Maria.

And we ran again down the twisting jungle trail.

On and on.

Knowing while we ran that there was no way out.

No way of escape.

And then suddenly we burst out into a clearing and stopped on our tracks.

For ahead of us, dark and ancient,

its stones worn by traffic rains,

grown over with lichen and moss,

was a Mayan pyramid,

built by men dead for centuries,

lost and forgotten in the via Teoblo.

We broke into a run across the clearing.

We are going inside, Barry.

Oh, why not?

What have we got to lose?

Nothing at all with a baby.

Public rot.

All right, inside, quick, Maria.

Excellent.

Right into the trap, just as I thought.

It's behind us somewhere.

At the edge of the clearing.

Be here for some time, you know.

Waiting for my Peter to drive you out of the broad.

Always predictable, Mr. Algrés.

What knows precisely what you're going to do before you do.

I like, Brian.

Listen to me.

I've got Maria with me.

I recognize her in one.

Then listen.

Before I let you take me,

I'll kill her.

Do you understand?

You're not entirely up to you, Mr. Algrés.

First you fired at my voice,

at me.

Then it's gone.

Embarrassing in the Mr. Algrés.

Now my fun begins.

Come on, Maria, back inside.

Quick.

Well, I'm other cartridges.

All we can do now is run.

Run as far and as long as we can.

And then what, Barry?

You killed me.

As you told him you would.

You know better.

I thought the threat would hold him off, but it didn't.

Are you hurting?

Yes.

I heard him.

He's not a surprise, Barry.

My father has hated me for years.

I did not come in handy like you hoped.

Where are you, Mr. Algrés?

Are you scared now?

Run me?

Maria, keep moving as quiet as possible.

Maybe you need something to help you run, Mr. Algrés.

He's got a machine pistol hurry.

I cannot go so quick.

How are you afraid, old Mr. Algrés?

You're not afraid that they are the plantation.

Is this your father?

Barry, it's not you.

Maria, wait.

There's a ledge right above us here.

I can feel it when I reach up.

Broken boulders.

Now there's a chance.

Now listen to me, Maria.

You go on alone.

Make a noise.

Talk so that you'll think that we're still together.

Do you understand?

I'm going to wait for him here.

Right up on that ledge.

All right, now go on.

All right, go on.

Little hope, be careful.

Be very careful.

I scrambled up on the ledge and got set.

I felt around in the dark and found a rock

as big as a man's head.

And then I waited.

You're firing yourself for nothing, Mr. Algrés.

There's only one way out, you know.

This way.

I raised the rock and waited.

He was close now, very close.

I listened to his steps,

trying to judge his position by the sound.

You're not being very friendly, Mr. Algrés.

I feel very warm for you.

He was right below me.

I raised the rock and smashed it down on his head.

Maria!

It's all right, Maria.

It's all over.

I'm sorry.

Maria.

Maria!

Two weeks in that stinking jail

and now you drag me out and bring me down here to the harbor.

Why, Captain?

This way, Mr. Algrés.

All right, so you won the revolution.

Now you are the new government.

All right, fine.

I got nothing against you.

My fight with Ali Kron was personal.

You know that.

I have an Ali Kron who was one of our leaders.

You killed him.

The usual sentence is dead by a firing squad.

I know that, Captain.

Instead, we are permitting you to lead the country.

The launch is waiting to take you out to the ship.

You should consider yourself very fortunate,

and you are a greatie.

Captain.

Look.

There was a girl.

Maria.

Ali Kron's daughter.

Where is Maria?

I believe you are speaking of my wife, Senor.

Your wife?

You are escaping a death sentence, Senor.

But I must warn you that if you ever return to the Republic,

that sentence will be carried out.

Your wife?

Maria and I were married yesterday at the church of Santa Isabel,

as a wedding gift to Maria.

I gave her your life.

Your ship is waiting, Senor.

Are you?

Under the direction of Norman McDonnell,

escape has brought you violent night by less crutchfield.

Saring William Conrad and Joyce McCluskey.

Featured in the cast were Don Diamond,

Ben Wright and Edgar Barrier,

with Michael Ann Barrett, Byron Kane, and Richard Beals.

You are an answered George Walsh.

The special music for escape is composed and conducted by Leith Stevens.

Next week.

You are standing in a lonely forest clearing.

The dawn turned grey by the creeping fog.

While standing only yards from you,

his eyes filled with his hate for you.

His a man who has come to take your life.

Unless you first take his.

So listen next week.

When escape brings you Alexander Dumas classic story,

the second shot.

Rich in comedy, rich in human interest, rich in novelty.

That's rich.

Starring Stan Freiberg, Friday nights on CBS Radio.

It's the lively refreshing stars-addressed situation comedy called

That's Rich, which it certainly is,

every Friday night on most of these stations.

Just you make a date, tie a little string around your favorite chair,

so you'll remember to listen, and laugh with That's Rich.

Friday nights, too, enjoy a full hour Arthur Gottfried digest

on the CBS Radio Network.

Thank you.