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, Pep, the sunshine cereal presents the adventures of Superman. The valiant attempt of Boris Archenko to halt the attack on the World Peace Federation has resulted only in a momentary victory, as Clark Kent pleads with the planet's publisher to reveal the whereabouts of editor Perry White. Hello there, gang. This is your pal Dan McCullough. Say, if you want to taste a really smooth dish, just breeze up to a bowl of Kellogg's Pep tomorrow morning. Is it light and golden? Is it cool and crisp? Is it terrific? Why, Pep looks good enough to eat. And believe me, gang, there's good eating ahead when Pep, with cool milk and sugar, heads the breakfast menu. Every single flake is crisp and tender as a breeze. You dip your spoon in, and it comes up rippling with the light sunshine flavor Pep is famous for. So strictly delicious, it's really fun to eat. And say, speaking of more fun, you just take a look in your next package of Pep. You're in for a surprise. I mean a surprise prize. Because, listen, you may find an exciting colored cardboard model of a light plane, easy and fun to assemble. There are seven model planes you can collect. Or you may find one of a great new series of 24 full-color bird pictures, with a description on the reverse side to help you identify each of these birds when you see it. Or, if you don't find a bird picture or a model plane, your Pep prize might be a bright colored comic button, with a famous character straight out of the funnies. One of the 18 swell buttons to wear on your beanie cap or jacket. Why, all three kinds of prizes are super. So, get busy collecting them. Ask mom to get a package of Kellogg's Pep, the sunshine cereal, right quick from the grocers. And now, the adventures of Superman. A gigantic undercover plot against the World Peace Federation by Rufus Pelley, fabulously wealthy munitions magnate, has resulted in the disappearance of Perry White, editor of the Daily Planet. A secret henchman of Pelley's named Homer Smith is now in control of the great newspaper and is about to launch a vicious campaign against the Peace Federation. Certain that John Grayson, publisher of the Planet, held the key to the mystery, Superman traced him out to sea during a hurricane, rescued him from his sinking boat, and carried him to the home of a doctor in a small village on the coast. As we continue now, once more in his guise of reporter Clark Kent, he is questioning the newspaper publisher in the offices of Dr. Agnew, who has been called away by a patient. Listen. You've got to tell me, Mr. Grayson, where is Perry White? I don't know, Kent, I swear. Does Homer Smith know? I... I don't know. Look, you didn't want to make Smith your personal representative on the Daily Planet, did you? Well, I... He forced himself on you, didn't he? Yes. Why? I can't tell you. Why are you terrified of Smith? What's he got on you? Please, Kent, stop it. I can't tell you. I can't tell you anything. You've got to tell me. That's the only way I can find Perry White and stop Smith's campaign to sabotage the World Peace Federation. Now, talk, man, talk. Oh, Kent, you don't know what you're asking. I'm asking you to save the life of Perry White, a fine man and a useful American. I'd do anything to help Perry. And I'm asking you to save the lives of millions of men, women, and children who'll die in the next atomic war, unless the World Peace Federation is on the job to prevent future wars. You don't understand, Kent. You can't understand. I understand. You're thinking of your own selfish interests. You're willing to sacrifice Perry White and the peace of the whole... Stop it, Kent. I can't stand it anymore. You're repeating the words my own conscience has been saying to me. All right, I'm going to keep on repeating them. Oh, no, please. I can't stand it anymore. I'll tell you what I know. Good. I'll tell you everything. If only it isn't too late. Well, maybe it isn't. But talk fast. Well, you see, Kent, during the war, my old college roommate came to see me. He'd just come back from Europe, he said, where he'd set up a relief organization for refugees driven out by the Germans. Yes? He'd come back to raise funds, and he counted on me for a substantial contribution. I didn't let him down. I wouldn't expect you to, Mr. Grayson. Thanks. A little later, he wrote me from England. He painted such frightful pictures of the poor refugees that I not only contributed more money, but I voluntarily tackled my friends for funds, which I sent on to my old roommate. We had quite a bit of correspondence. Then the war was over. But a few months ago... Yes? I read that Bronson, that was my old friend's name, was being tried in England for treason. In England? Yes. Seems that at some time after leaving college, he became a British citizen. And now he was being tried for treason, accused of spying for the Nazis. Oh, I remember the case now. He was convicted, wasn't he? Convicted and hanged. Yes. Then, a week or two afterwards, Homer Smith came to see me. Oh, I think I'm beginning to get the drift of this. Now, wait till you hear. Smith had most of the letters I'd written to Bronson. Photostatic copies of the checks I'd sent his relief organization. The organization was phony, I suppose, with money going to the Germans. That's right. But besides the letters and checks I'd sent Bronson, Smith had a lot of other letters written on my letterhead, but for which I was not responsible. Forgeries? Exactly. Excellent forgeries, by the way. I see. But what effect could they possibly... Those letters, presumably written by me, implicated me as a confederate of Bronsons. They made me appear a Nazi sympathizer who raised money for the German war machine. Uh-oh, blackmail. Yes. Smith said he would turn all this evidence over to the FBI and to the opposition newspapers, unless I appointed him as my personal representative on the daily planet, with full authority to dictate its editorial policy. which meant to switch the planet from its strong support of the World Peace Federation and make us knife it in the back. Yes. Although I didn't know that until later. Heaven knows I didn't want to play ball with Smith, but that forged evidence together with my legitimate letters and checks made a perfect frame-up that would have convicted me. You can see I didn't have a leg to stand on. But, Mr. Grayson, can't you see how... Oh, I realize now I shouldn't have done it. I was being selfish, but it came so suddenly... Never mind that now. We've got to work fast if we're to find Perry White and stop Smith and his crowd from cutting the Peace Federation's throat. Try to remember. Did Smith ever mention any of the men behind him? No, but he admitted there were people behind him. Powerful men who intend to ruin the Federation. And who stop at nothing. Blackmail, abduction, even murder in order to do it. Yes. Well, we'll see about that. Look, Mr. Grayson. Are you willing to cooperate with me from here on in? I'll do anything I can to atone for what I did, Kent. Anything. Good. Here. Here's a fountain pen. I want you to write what I dictate. Swiftly, Kent dictates a short note which John Grayson writes and signs. Then, leaving the newspaper publisher in the village doctor's house with careful instructions, he steps outside, resumes his true identity of Superman, and streaks back to Metropolis. A few moments later, once more in the guise and garb of Clark Kent, he enters Lois Lane's office in the Daily Planet. Ever have you been? Did you find out anything about the chief? No, not yet, Lois, but I'm... Oh, dear. Clark, the most terrible thing happened. What? We, or rather Boris Archenko, managed to stop the first edition from coming out with Homer Smith's editorial against the World Peace Federation. Good for Boris. Good nothing. It only delayed the inevitable. Mr. Smith fired poor Boris. Uh-oh. And our three o'clock edition, which goes to press in exactly five minutes, will carry the editorial. Oh, no, it won't. I tell you, it will, and so will our late edition. And Smith has a new and even worse editorial for tomorrow, and did over the day after, and... Take it easy now. Wait a minute. Wait a minute, Lois. Those rotten, lying editorials will not appear in the Daily Planet if my plan works. What plan? I'll explain later. Right now, I've got to see Smith. Where is he? Well, how do you like that? He's taken over the chief's office. You knew that before. Now, stop acting as if you can see through doors and walls like Superman or somebody. It's going to be a pleasure to boot him out of that office. When and if... When and if what? Clark, I wish you'd tell me. Later, Lois, later. Just sit tight and keep your fingers crossed. The next few hours will tell the story. Right now, I've got to powwow with Mr. Homer Smith. Can't you read, Mr. Smith? It's a signed order from John Grayson, publisher of the Daily Planet. Stopping all further printing of the paper until further notice. Oh, nonsense. Ridiculous. Grayson doesn't dare do that. He doesn't dare? I... I mean, he wouldn't do it. This letter is a forgery. I believe you're pretty familiar with Mr. Grayson's signature. I don't care what you believe. Mr. Darrow, our cashier, is also familiar with it. Shall I call in Darrow to verify it? No. This is a forgery, I tell you, and that's all there is to it. Oh, no, it isn't. And as for you, Kent, I hadn't liked your attitude in the beginning. You're fired. Easy, Mr. Smith. You get out of here. Sorry, but Mr. Grayson delegated me to deliver this letter to you and to see that no further edition of the planet is printed today. And that's exactly what I... Oh, yes? Now, look, Kent. You're asking for trouble. Take my advice. Clean out your desk and leave the building as fast as you can. Thanks for the advice. But I'm not having any. I'm warning you. Thanks again. For nothing. I intend to see that no further edition of the planet is published today. All right. You've had your say. Now I'll have mine. It's exactly one minute before two o'clock. In one minute, our presses will begin turning out the first evening edition. And not you nor anyone else can stop them. That's what you think. I know. And I know something else which you don't, Mr. Kent. Yes? What's that? I'm going down to the press room now. You care to? Come along and you'll find out. Good. But I strongly advise you not to come. I'll take my chances. Let's go. Very well. It's your funeral, Kent. While playing on his thin lips, Homer Smith leaves Perry White's office, closely followed by Clark Kent. What will happen in the press room? We'll return in a moment to find out. So stand by. Say, you want to go prospecting for gold these summery vacation days? Well, then, just breeze up to your breakfast bowl of Kellogg's Pep, the sunshine cereal, and see how your spoon comes up rippling with golden, catchy flavor. Believe me, Pep's as good as gold when it comes to sharpening the edge of your morning appetite. Makes you want to hitch up your chair and settle down to the soup sort of breakfast that wins by a cool mile. Is this whole wheat flake cereal crisp? Is it tender? Is it delicate and light? Does breakfast get the glad eye when Kellogg's Pep heads the menu? And do you get a swell surprise when you see the nifty prize in each Pep package? A real surprise of a prize. Could be you'll find a model allied fighting plane in colored cardboard, one of seven great Pep planes you can collect. Or could be you'll find one of 24 new full-color bird pictures with a full description on the reverse side so you can identify these birds in the air. Or could be your next Pep prize is one of 18 bright-colored comic buttons sporting a famous funnies character like Orphan Annie or Moon Mullins or Superman himself. So start collecting all three kinds of these keen Pep prizes. Today, ask Mom to bring Kellogg's Pep from the grocer first thing. Clark Kent and Homer Smith have just arrived in the Daily Planet press room, where the great printing machines tended by over-auled pressmen have begun rolling out the huge first evening edition. As Smith enters a step ahead of Kent, he raises a hand. At once, several hard-faced men step away from the walls and surround Kent. Each of them holds a submachine gun in his hands. A snare on his face, Smith says, These men are working for me, Kent. They'll do exactly as I say. Meaning? I have just fired you. Since you are no longer employed by us, you are trespassing on these premises. You take one more step into the press room or even raise your voice to the men of the machines. My men will shoot you. You understand, boys? Yeah, we're there, Carol. Well, Kent, what have we got to say now? Do you still think you can stop me from printing the next edition of the Daily Planet? A ring of armed, hard-faced men around him. Then with the faces of the planet pressmen who have looked up from their machines. If Kent ignores Smith's gunman, he will reveal his true identity of Superman. If he doesn't, Smith's campaign against peace continues. What can Kent do to prevent Homer Smith from printing his vicious attack on the World Peace Federation and still not reveal his double identity? And what is the rest of Kent's plan to find Perry White and the ruthless men behind Homer Smith? Tomorrow's episode tells the story, gang, so don't miss it. Be sure to tune in 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 D.C. comic magazines and is brought to you Monday through Friday at this same time by Kellogg's Pep, the sunshine cereal. You know, gang, famous names are often family names, like the Kellogg's family of cereals. And here's a famous member that makes breakfast mighty swell. It's Kellogg's shredded wheat. Full, ripe whole wheat made into tender, plump biscuits that fit your bowl. Toasted just right, too, for crispness and natural nut-sweet flavor. As for nutrition, well, Kellogg's shredded wheat is made of finest whole wheat. Mom likes that, and the economy of 15, 15 biscuits in every package. Remind Mom to get Kellogg's shredded wheat. And be sure to be with us tomorrow for the thrilling adventures of Superman. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System.
