Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap tall buildings at a single bound. Look, up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane, it's Superman! Kellogg's Pep! P-E-P Pep! Kellogg's Pep, the sunshine cereal presents The Adventures of Superman! Today, as Clark Kent and Perry White keep anxious vigil at the Daily Planet, all Jimmy Olsen's hope for escape from his sinister captor, Frank Hill, seems lost. And with it, the hope of winning the battle he has fought with such unwavering courage. Say, gang, just ask Grandpa what he used to say when he was young about something he liked. Bet you he'll say, hotsy-totsy. Well, today, you say it's on the beam. And if it's Kellogg's Pep you're talking about, you say it's on the sunbeam. You know, Pep is called the sunshine cereal. It's so golden and toasty and sunny-flavored, it brightens up breakfast any day. How those crisp flakes of whole wheat do needle your appetite. Every tender spoonful teases for another. Yes, sir, Pep's sunshine flavor is so smooth, that tender crispness is so keen that, well, it's practically irresistible. And anyway, who wants to resist the solid sort of breakfast that helps start your day in high? Kellogg's Pep gives you hearty whole wheat nourishment plus. So, pitch right in, gang, get set to polish off every last spoonful in your bowl. That's the smart thing to do, you know, because nowadays, the cereal grains are being sent to give that swell grain nourishment to fellas and girls overseas. Remember, when Mom brings Kellogg's Pep home from the grocers, don't waste it. If you pour your own Pep, pour it carefully, and eat up every bit you pour out. And, say, kind of keep watch on your younger brothers and sisters, too. Get the right habit, gang. Eat all your Pep. Don't waste it. Now, the adventures of Superman. Caught in a trap set for him by Frank Hill, the vicious leader of a hate-mongering organization calling itself the Guardians of America, young Jimmy Olsen, cub reporter for the Daily Planet, has been literally sentenced to death. Hill has instructed two of his henchmen, once darkness falls, to bind and gag Jimmy, drive him to the Metropolis Bridge, and drop him into the river. At the moment, however, Jimmy has been locked in a vacant room of the organization's penthouse headquarters, where, in a final desperate attempt to communicate with Clark Kent, he wrote a message, wrapped it around a coin, and dropped it to an Italian organ grinder on the street 15 stories below. As we continue now, Jimmy is leaning out the open window, anxiously watching the organ grinder as he seemingly studies the handwriting on the scrap of paper. For a moment, a ray of hope seems to shine through the gathering dusk. But only for a moment. The horrible truth dawns on Jimmy as the organ grinder shrugs, adjusts the strap of his instrument, and strolls down the street playing a tune. He cannot read English. Jimmy's heart sinks to the pit of his stomach, and he gulps. Then suddenly, he hears a key grate in the lock. He pulls the window down, turns as the door opens, and Frank Hill enters the room. You weren't thinking of jumping out that window, were you, Olsen? Oh, what window? There happens to be only one window in the room. You're standing in front of it. We heard it slam shut just as we unlocked the door. I, I wanted some air. Oh, and you suddenly decided when the key turned in the lock that you'd had enough air, is that it? Yeah. Well, we're going to give you a little more, Errolton. It occurred to me that since you were here once before, that you undoubtedly gave this address to Mr. Kent and the police. Since it might be somewhat embarrassing if the police suddenly arrived and found you here, we've decided to move you until it's dark enough to get rid of you permanently as planned. Well, you'll go along with Eric and Carl. That's what you think. Don't come near me or I'll kill you. Wait, Carl. He's got a knife. A silly little pen knife. It won't look silly. Jam between your ribs. Now, you're just making things more difficult for yourself, Olsen. You can't get out of this room. That suits me. I'm willing to wait till the police come. Oh, so you did give them the address. What do you think? Carl. Yes? In the closet in my office on the top shelf, you'll find a small tear gas spray gun. Bring it to me. Yes. And in just a moment, we'll see how long you'll stand there brandishing that ridiculous knife. I'm all too standing. Look out, Eric. Did he get you, Eric? Ah, he just cut my sleeve. Oh, the dirty little rat. I guess he figures he's got nothing to lose. Is the tear gas forced? What's up? He pulled a knife on us, forced us out of the room. Now, reach out and open the door, Carl, and then step aside. If I can shoot some of this stuff in his face, it'll take all the fight out of him. He's... Careful now. He's leaning against the door. Check it open. Now, wait a minute. Wait a minute. That's no good. You'll have to hit the door with your shoulder. You said he's got a knife? Well, what of it? He'll take a swipe at me. Well, you don't have to hit the door hard. Now, push it. He's only a kid. He can't hold it shut very long. We've got to get him out of here. I don't like this too much. Well, neither do I, but we can't help ourselves. Now, go ahead. I'll cover you with the tear gas. If he shows himself, he'll get a face full. Okay. That's it, Carl. You're getting it. He's weakening. He's pushing. He lets out the door. Carl fell into the room. He's going to knife him. All right, grab him, Eric. He can't see. All right, let him go. I'm blind. I can't see. Where you're going, Olsen, there's nothing to look at. Take him away. Early blinded, his eyes burning like live coals. Jimmy is led from the room by Frank Hill's henchman. Meanwhile, in editor Perry White's office at the Daily Planet, where White and Clark Kent have been waiting for a telephone call from Jimmy, Kent is beginning to worry. I don't understand why he hasn't called. Because he's Olsen, that's why. Because he has a brain in his head. Chief, that's not true. Does he think I can hold the final edition at 10 o'clock tomorrow morning? What time is it? 7.30. We're an hour late with it now. I can't hold it any longer, Kent, story or no story. Chief, he's bound to call. When? Next Tuesday? I'm sorry. I've got to get that paper out. Perry White, put page one back into the form and let her roll. Chief, can't you wait another five minutes? Not a minute. Let her roll, Becker. That's that. I should have done it an hour ago. No, I knew that kid wouldn't come through. Something must have happened to him. If anything did, it's your fault. I told you right from the beginning not to let him get mixed up with those hoodlums. You'd better call Henderson. No, I can take care of it. You can take care of what? I know where he went. I wanted to steer clear of the place till Jimmy got the evidence we need, but now maybe I better look it over. Oh, don't you be a fool too, Kent. Call the police. It's a job for them. No, it's a job for... For whom? For me. I'll be back as soon as possible, Chief. Now, wait a minute. Where are you going? To look for Jimmy. This store room is empty. If you ever decide to use it as an office, I'm in trouble. Off with these clothes. I don't understand why Jimmy hasn't called. Something must have happened. With what? Well, I'll find out soon enough. As Superman. Up with this window. And away! Leaping out into the gathering dusk, Superman trickles high above the Daily Planet building, hovers for a moment in curious flight as he determines direction, and then red cape streaming in the wind rockets across the city, faster almost than the speed of light. In a matter of seconds, he is again hovering motionless in midair, this time above the apartment building on Willow Drive. Jim said they occupied the penthouse apartment. There it is, directly below me. But there's no one there. It's empty. That's strange. I wonder where Jim could be. By a curious twist of fate, even as Superman voices his thoughts, a black sedan is speeding away from the apartment building on Willow Drive. And in it is Jimmy Olsen taking what Hill, the hate monger, called his last ride. Stand by for the tense, exciting climax of today's episode in just a moment. Say now, I'll bet you never realized how much those golden crisp flakes of Kellogg's Pep can do for a plump, juicy strawberry. But if you'll have a Pep strawberry flip for breakfast, you'll find out. Sure, that's this week's Pep dish of the week, you know. And it's a humdinger. Why, it's practically out of this world the way that famous sunshine flavor and that tender Christmas seem to rise and shine. Just try it. Here's how easy it is to make a Pep strawberry flip. You pour out your regular serving of Kellogg's Pep, the sunshine cereal. And then you put some fine, ripe strawberries on top. Then take your spoon and very carefully give the whole thing a neat flip so the berries are scattered all through the delicate, tender whole wheat flakes. Good? Why, it's a smooth dish, gang. Fact is, no matter how you serve it, Kellogg's Pep always tastes so good you want to eat up every last spoonful in your bowl. And, you know, nothing could be smarter nowadays when we shouldn't waste cereal. Because whole wheat is one of the cereal grains picked out to go to fellas and girls around the world. So, gang, when Mom brings Kellogg's Pep home from the grocers, make sure it's not wasted. Handle with care is the idea if you pour your own Pep and eat up every bit you pour out. Just remember, eat all your Pep. Don't waste it. Darkness has fallen over the city of Metropolis like a black shroud. Darting through the starless sky like some giant bird, Superman has checked every possible place that Jimmy Olsen might be. The pool room hangout of Muggs and his gang, Jimmy's house in the suburbs, his own apartment that he occupies as Clark Kent, even police headquarters. But the boy reporter is nowhere to be found. Now, once again in his guise of the mild-mannered reporter, we find him with Editor Perry White in the latter's office. What time is it, Chief? It's five minutes later than it was when I told you five minutes ago. This is no time for jokes. It's 20 after 8. Why don't you call the police, Kent, instead of mooning around here like an idiot? I can't. If I call them, Henderson will raid the pool room and throw a monkey wrench into the works. The whole idea of this plan was to get the evidence on whoever was behind the hate campaign before we pounced. So, what have you got? No evidence and Olsen's missing. For all we know, he may be dead. We won't have any trouble with him, Eric. He's half dead now. Get that rear door open. Maybe you have tied the gag too tight. Maybe he cannot breathe. So what? He won't be breathing anyway five minutes after he hits the water. Open the door. Yeah. Grab his feet. Yeah, yeah. All right? Swing him in. Yeah. Good enough. Who's driving? I will take it. You're sure it is dark enough. Plenty. By the time we hit the bridge, it'll be pitch black. Let's go. What is the setup again, Carl? Simple. We drive to the middle of the bridge, stall like we had a flat until there's no traffic, then drag him out and heave him over. It's a 200-foot drop to the water and the tide's going out. We can't miss. We're going away from in front of the nondescript frame house where Jimmy had been held prisoner for the past hour. The black sedan heads for the bridge with the boy reporter bound and gagged in the rear seat. Meanwhile, miles away in the poorly furnished flat of a tenement house deep in the metropolis slums, a strange scene is taking place. A scene that by a queer trick of fate may mean life or death for Jimmy Olsen. Maria, daughter of the Italian organ grinder, is about to sew up a tear in the pocket of her father's coat and as she turns the pocket inside out, a scrap of paper flutters to the floor. She picks it up, notices the penciled writing on it, smooths it out and reads it. For a moment, she is puzzled. She reads the strange note again and is about to call out and ask her father who wrote it when she notices he is fast asleep on the couch. Smiling sheepishly, she crumples the scrap of paper and drops it into an ashtray, returning to her sewing. And in that tense moment, Jimmy's life hangs on a thread as slender as the one trailing from the eye of the girl's needle. What will happen? Can anyone, even Superman, save Jimmy now? Or has his life been discarded like the crumpled scrap of paper in the ashtray? Gang, whatever you do, don't miss tomorrow's super exciting episode entitled Race Against Death. Tomorrow, same time, same station. And remember, for breakfast, it's Kellogg's Pep. For excitement, the adventures of Superman. Superman is a copyrighted feature appearing in Superman DC comic magazine and is brought to you Monday through Friday at the same time by Kellogg's Pep, the sunshine cereal. Say, gang, you know what fun it is to make your dog sit up and beg for something good to eat? Well, if you want to make sure your dog gets a good dinner that'll help him keep him strong and husky, ask your mother to give him Kellogg's Grow Pup dog food. If you feed Grow Pup to your dog along with his scraps of meat and fat, he ought to get along just fine. That kind of eating will help give him strong bones and teeth and muscles. There's Grow Pup ribbon, Grow Pup meal, and Grow Pup pellets. Just see which your dog likes best and ask mother to feed it to him regularly. Remember, that's Kellogg's Grow Pup. And be sure to be with us tomorrow for the thrilling adventures of Superman. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System.
