Presenting the transcription feature, Superman! It's a plane! It's Superman! Yes, it's Superman! Strange visitor from the planet Krypton, who came to Earth with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men. Superman who can leap tall buildings at a single bound, race a speeding bullet to its target, then steal in his bare hands, and who, disguised as Clark Kent, mild-mannered reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper, fights a never-ending battle for truth and justice! And now to our story. The legend of the White Plague, a strange superstition of the frozen North, has been terrorizing the Bartlett logging camp where Clark Kent and young Jimmy Olsen are vacationing. When we last saw Kent, he and Fred Harmon, middle-aged boss of the camp, were alone in the camp office. Suddenly, Kent realized it was getting dark and wondered what had happened to Harmon's daughter Nancy and Jimmy Olsen, both of whom had gone out to look at some young raccoons penned up behind the cabin. Kent investigated, but found no sign of them. However, their footprints were clearly visible in the snow and seemed to point in the direction of a pine forest about a quarter of a mile behind the logging camp. Puzzled and worried, Kent and Harmon followed the footprint until they suddenly and mysteriously stopped halfway between the camp and the forest. For a moment, both men were speechless. Then Kent said, Look, Mr. Harmon, they never got to the woods. These footprints end abruptly right out here in the open. But it's impossible, Kent. They must have gone back or turned off and walked in another direction. Those are the only footprints in the snow besides our own. Kent, it's fantastic. Nancy and Jimmy couldn't just vanish. Where did they go? According to these footprints, there's only one place they could have gone, up in the air. Kent, please, this is no time for jokes. In another ten minutes, it'll be pitch dark. Nancy! Nancy! You'd better go back to camp, Mr. Harmon. Check all the cabins. Jimmy has an insatiable curiosity and he might have talked Nancy into taking him on a tour of inspection. I'll look through the pine woods. Wait a minute. Someone's coming. Oh, it's you, Dawson. Hey, Kent. Something wrong? Plenty, Dawson. Nancy and Kent's boy, Jimmy, have disappeared. What? I think they've just wandered off, Mr. Dawson. Probably find them in one of the loggers' cabins chewing the fat. I wish I was that optimistic. Look at those footprints in the snow, Dawson. They're Nancy's and Jimmy's. See how they stop short? Oh, backtracks? No. They didn't turn back. That's funny. The track's got to lead somewhere. That's what frightens me. They don't. Now, look, Mr. Harmon, you mustn't let go. I'm just as concerned as you are, but we'll find them. You and Dawson check the cabins. I'll search the woods. No man in his right mind goes into them woods alone after dark, Mr. Kent. Not with the wolves, hungry as they are. Wolves don't bother me. You check the cabins. And if you locate them, give me a shout. Hold up, Kent! Don't go in there alone! I'd better go with them, Mr. Harmon. You route the men out and have them search the east woods in pairs. I'll go along with Kent. All right. All right. Hold up, Kent! I'm coming with you! Don't worry too much about me, Dawson. You don't know the north woods during a bad winter, Mr. Kent. Even a hungry fox will charge a man. Come on! What do you make of all this, Dawson? I don't know. Don't seem human. Oh, it's human, all right. I didn't tell you, but Jimmy and I came close to losing our lives when we drove that sled back to camp today. What? Someone fired at us from the woods. That was human, all right. That much you can count on. Legends, even important ones like the white plague, can't pull the trigger of a high-powered rifle. You mean someone actually shot at you and the boy trying to hit you? That's just what I mean. And the rifle he used was the same one your logging crew took along on the job today. Now, just a minute, Kent. If you're insinuating that one of my men... I'm not insinuating anything, Mr. Dawson. I'm stating cold facts. Well, since you know what rifle was used, maybe you know who used it. No, I don't. At least at the moment. But I'll find out, Dawson, if I have to stay here until the snow melts. Well, here we are at the edge of the woods. You see any tracks? I don't want. They're not in the woods, Kent. If Nancy knew better than to go into that thick pine at night... Jimmy! Jimmy! That can be heard for over a mile. If there's no answer... Wait a minute. I thought I heard something moving through the brush. Woodchuck, likely. That pine's full of them. Jimmy! Miss Harmon! What was that? Sounded like shots. Rifle from the camp. Come on, let's beat it back. Who do you think's shooting? I don't know. Cut back to the office, Kent. All right. There's a deep snow drip on the other side. Follow me. Right. Wait a minute! He's standing near the raccoon's hand. He's carrying a rifle. Hold it! It's me! Fred Harmon! Oh, I missed it. I'm sure I missed it. You missed what, Mr. Harmon? I heard its wings beating. What? I rushed in for a rifle and by the time I came out again, I could barely see it. What are you talking about, Mr. Harmon? It was like an eagle, Kent. Only bigger. A white eagle. I think you'd better go inside, Mr. Harmon. No. No way. If I come back. I shot at it twice, but I'm sure I missed it. Take his other arm, Kent. Let go of me! You think I'm mad, don't you? Well, I'm not. I saw it as clearly as I see you. And I heard its wings. It was big enough to lift a man from the ground. Do you hear? Big enough to lift a man. Please, Mr. Harmon. I know it sounds mad, but believe me, it's the truth. Look. What's that sticking up on the snowbank? No. Over there. It's a feather. A large, white feather. Oh, you'll see. Now, do you believe me? Let me see it, Kent. Here. It's a feather, all right. And look at the size of it. Look at it. Too big for an eagle feather, and even a tail quilt. I told you, it had a ten-foot wing spread. It was big enough to carry a man off. Kent, do you know what that means? He's got a crank any minute now, Dawson. Take him into his cabin. I'll be right back. It means, Kent, that Nancy and Jimmy were carried off. I know what it means. That Superman has to step in. I'm sure Harmon must be mistaken, but I can't take any chances. If there is a bird that big up in the sky, I'll find it. Up! Up! And away! Mr. Harmon will make you feel better. No, I don't want it. Where did Kent go, Dawson? I don't know. He said he'd be back. Dawson, those footprints in the snow, Nancy's and Jimmy's. Remember how they ended abruptly. Remember? Yeah, I remember. Yeah. Now, take this behind him, Mr. Harmon. Dawson, send a man into town. I want to wire Mr. Bartlett. We're closing the camp, Dawson. I can't stand it any longer. All right, I'll send a man in. Here, break this. That'll make you feel better. What time is it, Dawson? I don't know, Mr. Harmon. I haven't gotten a watch. There's a clock in the back room. Bring it in here. Okay. All right, put it on the table. What time is it? 8.15. It's dark out, isn't it? It's pitch dark. Yeah. Well, Nancy and the boy are out there in the darkness. We may never see them again, Dawson. Never. No sign of any giant bird yet. I know this is all a waste of precious time, but I've got to satisfy myself that Harmon was just mad with anxiety. And yet his story of the bird and those footprints in the snow matched perfectly. Wait. What's that down below me, in the forest clearing? Smoke pouring out of a chimney. That's strange. Dawson told me there wasn't a human being within five miles of the camp. I think I'll drop down and investigate. Down. Down. It's a log cabin. No light inside, but there must be a fire burning. Might as well look into it as Clark Kent. It doesn't look like there's anyone home. I wonder whether the door's locked. No, it's open. Hello, is anyone in? Guess not. Wait. Someone stretched out on a cot. What? Why, it's Nancy Harmon. And there's Jimmy on another cot. See now. And they're both breathing evenly. And they're not hurt. They seem to be asleep. Jimmy. Jimmy, wake up. They're nothing doing. I know what's the matter. They've been drugged. I'd better get them back to camp as soon as possible. I'll have to fly with Superman. All right. There we are. One under each arm. Out the door. Up. Up. And away. What time is it, Dawson? You just asked me, Mr. Harmon. 925. Kent hasn't come back yet? No. You send a man into town to get that wire off, Dawson? Not yet. Well, why not? What are you waiting for? I think we'd better wait until Mr. Kent gets back. Why? Well, I don't know, but... What was that wind? Is there a storm coming up? I don't think so. Take a look outside. Okay. Hold the door open, Dawson. Here. Found him, Kent. Nancy! Nancy! Take it easy, Mr. Harmon. Here. Give me a hand, will you, Dawson? Yeah, sure. Put Nancy on the couch. That's it. And this settee here is big enough for Jimmy. There you go, young fella. Ah, that's fine. Kent. They're dead. No, no, they're not. No, sir. Where's the nearest doctor, Dawson? At Hart's Landing. That's 50 miles. What? What's the matter with them, Kent? Were they hurt? No, no, they won't hurt. They're all right. They seem to have been drugged. No doctor nearer than Hart's Landing? No, but Father Malone at Montville knows a lot about treating the sick. He does it all the time. Send someone for him at once. We may be able to bring Nancy and Jimmy around without help, but let's not take any chances. Okay, I'll get a sled off right away. Good. Kent, will they live? Of course they will. I'll get you some warm water and get some milk. All the milk you have. We've got to work fast, Mr. Harmon. Every minute, how? How serious is the condition of Nancy and Jimmy? Were they drugged, as Kent seems to think, or is there another explanation for their mysterious disappearance? And who left them in the log cabin deep in the woods? Don't miss the next episode of Superman if you want the answers. Don't forget, tune in again for the next thrilling episode with Superman. It's a plane. It's Superman. Superman is a copyrighted feature appearing in Action Comics magazine.
