You are trapped in the native quarter of Mozambique with the police closing in on you, while at your feet lie two dead men and standing beside you is a sultry girl who offers you escape. We offer you escape, designed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure. Tonight we escape to Mozambique in Southeast Africa and a fantastic series of adventures as Percival Gibbon tells it in his story of the second class passenger. That's me, Ronald A. Dawson's second class passenger. Oh, I could have afforded first class by pinching a little here and there, but nobody back at Ralston's department store in Cedar Rapids will ever know. The important thing is they'll say Ronald Dawson in drapery is taking a cruise around the world. And then there's really very little difference in the accommodations and the second class passengers are every bit as interesting as the first class crowd. Hey, Miss Patterson, for instance, you'd look far to find a more charming, likable, and altogether desirable young lady, just the life of the party. We'd gotten to be quite good friends by the time our cruise put in at Mozambique, although the competition was always stiff, I can tell you. There were times when I wished those other two, Jones and Twitchell, had missed the boat somewhere along the line. Well, we still have a good couple of hours before we sail. I'd say how about a ride in one of those native carriages, Miss Patterson, won't you? Oh, do you think they'd be clean? Oh, personally, I doubt it. Oh, really, Mr. Dawson? Well, I don't know as I care too much now. That wozo made me woozy. Great stuff, wozo. It would take a Greek to think of a drink like that. Or a drink, yes. Miss Patterson, you kill me. We might do the fort, you know. The guidebook says it's a main point of interest. Let's see, built by the Portuguese in 1640. Never mind the statistics. I dare say the fort's as dreary as the rest of this place. Mozambique's not at all like what you'd imagine Mozambique to be like. It's a one-horse town, all right. Main street and a couple of alleys. And so jerky. You know, you'd think they'd do something about it in this day and age. Well, it'll be a relief to get back on board ship and have a nice hot bath. And real American food instead of that greasy fried octopus we had for lunch at that Greek place. Oh, yes, weren't they awful? They're part of the broadening experience of travel, aren't they? Yes, I suppose so. Like that cute idol I bought. You know, I just can't wait till I... Mr. Dawson. Yes, Miss Patterson. Where's my idol? Why, I thought Jones had it, or Twitchell. Not me, old man. Oh, no, you insisted on carrying it for Miss Patterson. I don't remember. Oh, dear. Oh, dear. I must have left it back at the Greek restaurant. I'm so sorry. I did so want that idol. Do you think you could go back for it, Mr. Dawson? Well, yes, Miss Patterson, of course. That is, though I wonder if I'll have time before the boat sails. Oh, I'm sure you will, if you hurt. Certainly, old man. You've got more than an hour yet. Well, I rather thought I'd... It would be terribly nice of you. Yes, well, I'll go at once. Oh, you are so kind, my dear Mr. Dawson. Now, mind you don't miss the boat. Oh, goodness, I'll try not to. Chances are I'll catch up with you before you reach the landing stage. All right, and we'll wait for you till the very last minute. I could have throttled that supercilious Jones, insisting I had time. I knew there was time, but I had no desire to run off after a heavy bronze curio and leave Jones and Twitchell alone with Miss Patterson. She was too nice a person, and they were such dreadful boars. Yes, and I suspected them of being phonies, too. But there was no helping it now, so I made my way back up the main street of the Lord Lazarus Restaurant, where we'd had our indigestible Greek lunch. Somehow this main street of Mozambique looked different now in the quick African twilight. The little saloons and the sidewalks were filling with men of every nationality and color, and many of them wore knives thrust through the belts of their thin white suits. Knives that looked as sharp as the glances they threw at me. And I must confess, I felt a little strange and unwanted. And then lounging toward me in the crowd, I saw a large woman clad in a sort of bernouche, but her brown face was unveiled. Her lips were painted scarlet, and from the corner of her mouth dangled a cigarette. Her eyes were heavily mascaraded, and when she looked at me, terror seized me. I was afraid she would speak to me, and I didn't know what I should do or say, but she didn't. Instead... Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha! Ah ha ha ha ha ha! She laughed, and the way the loiterers responded, I was convinced that they were laughing with her at me. I must say I was relieved to reach the entrance of Lazarus Restaurant. He's got his story in a little poly. Hey, g'night, good evening sir. De la mezza. A little dinner for the gentlemen. Well, no, no thank you. You see, as a matter of fact, I just lunched here today. Very good, excellent meal. Paristola. Yes, well I left a curio here, probably under the table. Did you find it? Eh? Curio? Yes, some sort of a bronze god. It was wrapped in newspaper. Ah yes, we got him right here for you. Oh, have you? Well that's good. I'm in a hurry to get back to the boat. Yes, you better hurry. Pretty soon she'll rain. Rain? Why, there's not a cloud in the sky. You see, every night she'll rain in Mozambique. Yes, well you ought to know, but I still doubt it. Yes, well, here, buy yourself a sedan. Ah, paristola, paristola. You hurry quick before she rains. Oh, don't worry about me. I'm not made of sugar, you know. Well, in just the few moments I had been inside the restaurant, night had fallen. That sudden nightfall of the tropics. I looked overhead and clearly saw the stars. Thinking what a bad weather forecaster that Greek was, I tucked Miss Patterson's silly bronze idol under my arm and started off for the waterfront. I hadn't gone two hundred yards when a large warm drop of rain splattered on the back of my neck and then two more on my hat. And before I could take cover under an arch, it was raining like Iowa in April. It didn't look like it would let up soon, and I wondered if there might not be a shorter way to the waterfront than the long walk down the main street and then the long way to the left along the docks. Surely one of these alleys that turned off to the left would lead me directly to the harbor and the landing stage. So I left the protection of the archway and turned into the alley at my left. Four steps from the main street and I was engulfed in darkness, wading through filth and mud over my ankles. But I was certain that I was on the right track, so I walked straight into a blank wall. I turned to retrace my steps, but I could see no lights anywhere. I fell along the wall until it gave into another alley, followed it to another blank wall, and then into another one. Now it began to rain in earnest. I stopped, looked about me. Not a light, not a sound except the rush of rain. And then slowly a sickening fear flowed through me as I realized that I was completely, hopelessly lost. For want of a nail, the shoe was lost. For want of an angle, the job may be lost. Every Friday night, reigning stars and rising stars of show business bring their best acts to CBS and get advice for improvement from three top showmen, Clifton Fadiman, Abe Burroughs, and Broadway playwright director George S. Kaufman. It provides an unparalleled hour of entertainment, plus an unusual look at the inside of show business. The program, This is Broadway. The time, Friday nights. The station, most of these same CBS network stations. Don't miss, This is Broadway. And now, we return to the second act of escape and tonight's story, Second Class Passenger by Percival Gibbon. I stood alone and frightened in the tortuous back alleys of Mozambique. Alone, frightened and lost. If it was dark before, it was now black as a tube. I struggled on through the rain. I don't know how far I walked through those foul and fetid passageways, nor for how long. But at last, feeling my way around a corner, I saw a slit of life, a horizontal flicker beckoning beneath the door. And I heard voices. I moved forward, feeling my way. Hands outstretched before me. I found the door, lifted the bronze idol, and wrapped it against the wet black wood. The voices stopped. What do you want? I lost my way. I'm wet through and I don't know where I am. Would you please let me in? Of course you may come in. You aren't exactly who we expected, but come in. Come in. What is that? I beg your pardon? That parcel you are carrying. Oh, this. It's a curio, an idol of some sort. A friend of mine left it at a restaurant just down the... You are a tourist from the cruise boat? Yes. Yes, that's right. How did you know? What are you doing here so late, so wet? The boat sails soon. Yes, yes, I know. I was trying to take a shortcut to the landing stage and I got lost somehow. You see, I came ashore with some friends from the second class. I left them to come back and fetch this idol. Give the young man a chair, you're going. Oh, thank you. Oh, but I must go on. If you can just direct me to... You could never find your way in this rain. It will not stop for a while yet. You may as well wait here. We may be able to provide some entertainment for our second class tourists, as well as Marlene's friends. Friends? The police are not my friends. You let them to us. You are responsible for the police search, not I. You have been stupid. The killer man for no reason. Stupid am I? You use a knife, you get caught, you go to prison. Why don't you talk with the prefect of police again? If you could just give me directions... One paid for leaving a gun with work, sometimes with jail. I have paid. Now it is your turn. You could help us once more. Only once more. We could be out of this sewer and down the coast to Lorenzo Marquez or Cape Town. Why don't you help us once more? Yes, why? Why don't you say once more, once more? Now there is no more. You are a sheepig, a defiled and debauched daughter of a... I beg your pardon, sir. What? That's no way to speak to a lady. What? I'm serious. I don't like to hear such language used to a lady. I must ask you to apologize. What have you got to do with all this? You just came in out of the rain from the second class. Don't fight with him. There is trouble enough already. With what right does he get to come in here? Yesterday you stabbed the Egyptians. Ah, what of it? Don't stab this one. You want the police to find you here with a corpse? A corpse? What does it matter how the police find us? We wait for them. Because we have no choice. You put them on us. We should do away with you. Why do you lie, even to yourself? Why must you hide your own blame behind my skirts? You are not man or beast. You are just... Don't go on. Don't you dare say. Stay here. You are just a co-champ. No one says that to me. I'll leave you tonight. Pig, pig, pig. No, you don't. Why, you madly American fool. You have killed him. Stand back. Stand back or I'll brain you with this idol. With my own hands I'll... He forgot I carry a knife. I've killed a man with this little curio. And you've killed another with your knife. Two men murdered. I must get back to the ship. The ship we can worry about later. First we must get out of here. The police will arrive any minute. The police? Yes. Come. It is not raining so hard now. Yes, sir. Oh. Quiet. The police. They have come for these two. They will be on both sides of us here. Hold my hand. Stand perfectly still. I will tell you when it's safe to move. Now. They are all around us so they won't hear us. Come now. Where are we going? We are escaping. But if you know from what we are escaping you would not care where. Hurry. Hang on to my hand and hurry. They found the bodies. Now they are after us. What will we do? There is a door nearby. We must find it. Feel along the wall here. Farther. Farther. It must be here. Here it is. Push. Push it in. It won't budge. It's bolted from inside. You must push it in. It's the only way. All right. Not yet. It's again. Give it here. Once more. Good. My friend. My great strong friend. Up these stairs now quickly. Where are we going now? To the roof. Wait. The rain has stopped. Yes. The stars are coming out. Look. Across the rooftops. There is your ship out in the harbor. I must get to it. My friends, they are here. Instead of taking photos, hurry. Go ahead. You hear them. We are not safe yet. Over the walls of the next roof. Hurry. Now. Over the next parapet. Up you go. Are you all right? Yes. Come up. Quietly. What's that over there? A tent? You are not where the people sleep on the roofs. You must walk like a rat. Who are they? Who knows? If they see us, they will think you have come for the women. But we could say that they are... There would be nothing to say. Someone is crawling out of the tent. A man with a sheet wrapped around him. He is coming this way. Yes. Why doesn't he see us? His eyes are clouded with sleep, perhaps. If he sees us... It will be too late. Well, then he won't. There. That took the fight out of him. Take this, my little knife. Just a prick and he is quite sick. No, no, no. He is still enough now. He can't harm us. It was splendid. With only the bare hands to make an armed man. Armed? I didn't know he was armed. Of course. That you may always be sure. Look there in his belt. A dagger? Yes. You are truly magnificent, my friend. You are a man. And you... Yes. You are a wonderful woman. I was wondering when you would kiss me. When you took offense at what the Russians said to me, I knew you would. But I wondered though soon. Yes. Yes, I suppose I knew too. In a way. At least I thought how much I'd like to. But I wouldn't have had the courage before all this. Courage? Your courage is of the lion. Your strength is of the great... My boat. My boat. I mustn't miss it. You want to go back to the second clap? Well, that's what I was trying to do when I knocked on your door. I've missed my dinner as it is. Missed your dinner. Yes, that is so. But haven't you gained something else? What? Me. Look. Now, look at me. Is it nothing, friend, that you have saved me for yourself? If... You conquer men as though you were bread on the roofs of Mozambique. You fight like a hero, a rush, a blow, a tumble, and you have them lying at your feet. I'd fight. I'd fight for you as long as... As long as there was anyone to fight. You would. I know you would. You lead on. Where? Wherever you will. Come. You know, I don't expect anyone to believe this. Looking back, I'm still unsure that it really happened to me. It's as though I dreamed it. I don't know how many roofs we crossed after that. A dozen, perhaps, maybe twenty. I don't even remember how many we crossed. I don't even remember how many we crossed. I don't remember how many we crossed. I don't remember how many we crossed. A dozen, perhaps, maybe twenty. I don't even remember the great ship lying out in the harbor, her lights blinking with the comforts of civilization. All my senses were focused on this slim, breathtaking figure leading me across the rooftops to a shadowy destination in which only one thing was certain. She would be there. I suppose in that moment, armed only with the blood-stained bronze idol, I was invincible. At last she led me down a creaking wooden stair that hung precariously on the sheer side of a house, and once more we were in the mud of a gloomy alley. We made our way down the alley and out into a little square where a night breeze rustled in the palms and smelled of the sea, and across the way a dim light showed through a big open door. The little church of San Sebastian. Oh. Espera, on the way. No, please. After all this. Don't go away. What do you want to eat? I have a commission to bring, miss. Why have I done nothing? Perhaps we should. Let's go. Oh, Captain, oh, Pepe, it's impossible. The pain, sir, has come in. Not this time, Miss, I'm going with the police. What does he want? He says he won't let me go. The devil he wants? What does he want you for? Oh, my friend, these little policemen, they always arrest me. Won't they get a chance at this? Piers. Enough. Shut up. No! Take your hands off her, leave her alone. Another word, sir, and hurry up for you too. Please. Run, run before he can get to Miss Piers. No, no, not that way. Into the church to sanctify your area. I couldn't. My mad leaf isn't one. You fear no one when you fight for me, as long as there is anyone to fight. Yes. Now there will always be someone to fight. They will never leave us alone. Will they follow us in here? These police might do anything. I'll blow one door, they will not dare follow us through. What is that? Come on, this way. Here, this door. First I must wrap my skirts close. Now, come cleanly through the middle. Do not, please, do not rub the walls as you come. No. Dear, we are safe for a while. They will not follow us through that door. Why not? It was the door of the unclean, the door of the lepers. The door of the... It is all right. We didn't touch the portal. No. See, at the far end of the alley are the lights of the waterfront. Yes. Where do we go now? We have a little time now to breathe the clean air of the harbour. Then I know a little cafe will wait. Someone is coming. Step back in the shadow until they pass. You know, I've never seen such a rainstorm. It certainly was something right over by our house. Listen. What is it? I wonder what's happened to good old Dawson. The dents, no doubt, Ross. I do hope he's found my idol. The idol? I must return the idol. No, don't. My friend, this is the greatest danger of all. We can't stand here and wait any longer for him. Of course not. We will miss dinner as it is. Goodbye. Don't go. Don't go. Don't go. In there he comes. I'm getting a little nervous. Hello there. Why, here's Mr. Dawson. Well, I got here before you, it appears. Did you find the idol? Yes, but for a moment there I was afraid I should miss the boat. I say, old boy, you're a bit disheveled, aren't you? Yes, I got caught in the rain. My idol. Oh, Mr. Dawson, you've got it all dirty. Yes, it is a bit must. I dropped it once or twice, I fear. That was clumsy of you. Nothing that a little soap and water won't put to right, I dare say. Well, we'd better hurry along. I'd hate to spend any more time in this dreadful place. Yes, so should I. There's the whistle. That's the last warning note out. Come on, everybody. Yes, yes, yes. Are you coming, Dawson? Don't stand there mooning. We'll miss the boat. Yes, yes, yes, in just a moment. I say, is there someone standing over there in the shadow of that alley? I'm not sure. I thought for a moment... I could have sworn that I saw you wave goodbye to someone. Well, perhaps I did, to Mozambique, to adventure and romance. What? Oh, I say that's good. That's very good. Adventure. Romance? What, in this pest hole? Churchill, what would you say if I told you I had just killed a man, fled over the rooftops of the city, made love to a beautiful woman, fought the police, escaped through the lepers' gate, and... Please, heavens, Dawson, I'd said that you had the wildest imagination I'd ever had in my imagination I'd ever heard of. Nothing like that ever happens to a second-class passenger. What? What? No, I suppose you're right. Nothing like that ever happens to a second-class passenger. HORN BLOWS Come on, Dawson, we'll miss the boat. Escape is produced and directed by Norman MacDonald. Tonight we have presented Second Class Passenger by Percival Gibbon and adapted for radio by William M. Robeson. Featured in the cast were Parley Bear as Mr. Dawson and Georgia Ellis as Marlene with Paul Dubov, Ben Wright, Vivi Janis, John Danaer, Edgar Barrier, and Nestor Paiva. Special music arranged and conducted by Wilbur Hatch. HONKING Next week, you are located on a remote plantation in the crawling Amazon jungle and an immense army of ravenous ants is closing in on you, swarming in to eat you alive. A deadly black army from which there is no escape. Next week, we escape with Carl Stephenson's terrifying story, Line Engine versus the Ants. Be with us next week at the same time when once again we offer you Escape.
