Tired of the everyday grind? Ever dream of a life of romantic adventure? Want to 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 drifting along the muddy reaches of a South American river. You're diving gear in readiness. The air pump going. Yet you know that in the murky depths below you, waiting in the slime there for you, is a mortal enemy from whom there may be no escape. Listen now as Escape brings you Tony Barrett's story, Blood Waters. They take you up slowly, always slowly, even in a nothing job like this one. A harbor bottom dive that a beginner would laugh at. I kicked away from the heavy pilings harder than I had to. And I knew I was trying to dull my mind again not to think about it. Trying to sell myself the same old story. That a diver shouldn't care where he works because the job's always the same. There's something down there, they want it, you get it, period. But it didn't work too well. The story was wearing thin. There you are, senor. You want the suit off or you want to rest first, huh? Rest from what? A 50 foot dive? Get me out of the suit. Si, si. Perhaps the man knows best, Trent. Murdock. A 50 foot dive can be dangerous. But then danger never bothered you, did it? What are you doing here, Murdock? What do you want? Does an old friend have to want something? I'm not interested in any of your deals. Really? With this job finished and nothing else in sight? I'm busy, Murdock. Beat it. No curiosity, Trent? Not so much as what are you doing in a forsaken hole in Argentina. You never were much at small talk, were you? Goodbye, Murdock. Wait a minute. Take your hand off me. Why the rush? Where are you going? You know it all. You tell me. All right. I will. What you do between now and tonight does not matter. But at nine o'clock I shall expect you at the Cafe de Rondo. Promptly. And if I don't come? Can you afford not to come, Trent? It still takes money to live even down here. I'll see you at nine o'clock. You've been talking for an hour now, Murdock, and you haven't said anything. Get to it. You have no social graces. Pity. Trent, how would you like never to have to get into diving gear again? To be rich, really rich. To have everything you ever wanted. I had everything I wanted once. You remember that, don't you, Murdock? How long have you been away from the States, Trent? What's that got to do with it? How long? Three years. Three stinking years. And don't you want to go back? No. I like working jungle holes like this. I like 50-foot dockside dives with native boys that fall asleep on the pumps while you're down there. What are you building? A fortune for both of us. What do you want this time? My right eye? Can't you forget what happened? Can you? You're being stupid. Get out of your territory down here, Murdock, so talk nice to me. Look, Trent, in two months we can both walk out of here with more money than you ever dreamed of. I don't dream anymore. Go, Trent. If I told you how much, you would think me mad. And you want to give me half? You will learn it. By diving? Yes. Did I say something humorous? So you fell for the national industry. Don't you know there's a peddler on every corner down here selling maps of sunken treasure? I love that. The smooth Vincent Murdock is a tourist. And now do you want to hear what I have to say? Say your piece. Did you ever hear of the Gran Chacos Rebellion? I'm sorry I'm late, senor. Ah, Maria, my dear. May I present, senor Trent Hall, this is Maria Sandoval. Senorita. Senor. Sit down, Maria. Something to drink? No, gracias. You said something about a rebellion. Fourteen years ago, to be exact. Bolivia and Paraguay were at each other's throats. It's in the history books. I didn't know you were a reader, Murdock. The Paraguayans were getting the worst of it. So they loaded a small boat, the Santa Rosa, with millions in gold for shipping up the Paraguay River. It was to go to Brazil for safekeeping. Well? After the boat left Puerto Pinasco, it was never seen again. Nor was the gold. Is true, senor. Storm? They never even found survivors. Besides, where would they look? Have you had the idea of the length of the Paraguay River? Two governments can't find the gold, but you can. That is correct. I can. What do you got? Charts? Better than that. What then? I said before that they never found survivors. I did. The only one. Interested, Trent? I don't want any part of you, Murdock. Now or anytime. So get off my back. Don't you realize what I'm offering you? I understand this. It's over. I'm through with you and your schemes. And I'm not running anymore. Get that through your head, you fat slut. Now you listen to me. Three years ago I listened to you. Three years down in this sinkhole is what I got for it. Three years, you foul, filthy pig. Why you... Now I'm going to cut you a new throat. That's enough. I don't know how long it lasted. How many times I hit him trying to pay him back for the lonely years. But finally it was over. Finished. And I was all alone. Over. Finished. And I was back at the waterfront again. Tasting the soft breeze coming in from the sea. Hey, Doc. Hello, Trent. What do you want? Oh. Maria, isn't it? Si. Maria. I'm sorry if I messed up your friend Murdock. No. Besides, I have seen men fight before. Yeah, I'm sure you have. You always follow the winner? Anger forces words the tongue does not want to say. My name is Trent, not Murdock, plain enough. I know your name, senor. Oh, there is a scratch on your cheek, senor. A little blood. Let me... A woman knows how to... Senor. Senor. Is that the way you kiss Murdock? Your eyes, Paulito. The anger is still there. And it shouldn't be. Not after that. Who are you really kissing, Maria? Me or him? What do you want? The gold? Murdock? Everybody wants something more. It's yours. I want you to come with me, senor. No more Paulito, huh? Please. Come with me, please. I'll show you what I want. She turned and moved away without ever once looking back, as though she was sure I'd follow her. And she was right. The shack she led me to was less than a half mile away, no different than any of the others around it. She turned to look at me once as she opened the door. And her eyes were a thousand years old. She lit a lamp, and I looked where she was pointing. He lay on a bed in the corner, a little Portuguese, maybe 50, cackling softly to himself, as though he knew a joke that nobody else would ever know. His hair was pure white, the kind that comes from too much terror, too much shock. And then I saw his hands. From fingertips to elbows, they were a mass of little scars, ugly needle-like scars that spoke of some past moment of horror. We moved closer, but he never looked up. Just sat crooning softly to a bottle of whiskey cradled in his arms. Maria? Who... who is he? Have you never seen a man who has lost his mind to fear? Look well, for he is such a one. Pobrecitos. Estoy aquí todo el duelo. Estoy aquí todo el duelo. Have you seen enough, senor? Is he a... a... My father. What is left of him? How did it happen, Maria? You have already been told. What? Murdoch spoke truth tonight when he told the survivor from the Santa Rosa. There she is. Later, as we sat staring out at the water, she told me all of it. And it wasn't hard to follow. An old man, driven insane by terror, who clung to Murdoch because Murdoch kept him in whiskey, the one thing that pushed the terror away for a while. Very neat and tidy, the Murdoch touch. You understand now, Paulito? Yeah. What do you want me to do, Maria? Make the trip with Murdoch as his diver? Is that what you want? My father is a child now. Murdoch will use him and... then... That's all you wanted from the beginning, isn't it? For me to be a watchdog. He is my father, Paulito. Yeah. I never asked. You going alone? Sí, I go. All right, Maria. I'll dive for Murdoch. Oh, gracias. Muchísimas gracias. It's all right. Paulito, kiss me, please. Gratitude for your father? No, not this time, querido. This time, for me. Murdoch was all sweetness and light next morning when I told him he had a diver. You'd have sworn we were old buddies. He balked at only one thing, my wanting to take along José, the kid who'd handled pumps for me on the harbor job. But I wasn't about to do any diving without somebody I trusted handling lines. Murdoch didn't like it, but he couldn't afford to argue. José turned out to be a real good investment before we ever got started. That night, as a matter of fact... Is anyone home? Oh, you finished up, José? Sí, sí. All finished, senor. Did you watch him crate the gear? I did it myself. I should have known. Thanks. Senor, how well you know the senor Murdoch? Too well. Why? Well, come on, José, what is it? While I was taking care of the gear, he was getting the permissos. The permits? Government permits for the interior? Sí, sí. You're supposed to name all the people that go. I know that. What about it? I saw the papers, senor. Well? Is every name there except yours? I see. But why? Why does he do a thing like that, senor? What reason? To save explaining later. ¿Qué? Murdoch's got it all figured out, José. I still do not understand. Why are you not on that list? It's real simple. Anyone who doesn't make a trip can't be expected to come back from it. You are listening to Blood Waters, tonight's presentation of Escape. Millions in Asia living on inadequate diets and additional millions in free Europe fighting for post-war recovery are the beneficiaries when you give to CARE, C-A-R-E. Send a $10 CARE package or the $6.95 budget package. For further details, write CARE New York. That's CARE New York. And now, Escape, and the second act of Blood Waters. It's a thing you've got to see to believe. A thing that exists every foot of the length of Argentina. You get a couple of hours inland from the coast and you've gone back a thousand years. Nothing but jungle, jungle so thick and green you can travel a full day without ever once getting a glimpse of sunlight. It's bad enough anyway you try it, but doing it Murdoch's way was the worst. Murdoch, a gold-hungry, penny-pinching man who hadn't hired enough bearers, who skimped on food, and who hated every minute wasted on rest. Maria took it well, quiet for the most part. Her eyes never far from Sandoval. The old man was pathetic, shambling along, falling off and uncaring and never hearing. There was only one sound that mattered in his world, the cork coming out of the bottle. And Murdoch was master of the bottle. Four days of it, four stinking, crawling days. And on the morning of the fifth we came out of it. Stood there looking out at the Paraguay River. The gold was showing in Murdoch's eyes again. Look at it, Trent. Beautiful, isn't it? It's a river, that's all it is. It's been a long walk. Where to now? Three days upriver. Do you have any objections? You're footing the bill. You should remember that. You check our supplies while I make arrangements for the boat. Don't you want me to take a look at the boat before you make a deal, make sure you get a good winch? You have a short memory, Trent. I'd say I'm fairly capable of making deals, wouldn't you? Si. You just make sure the bearers don't steal anything when they leave. Oh, fat. I'd take care of that for you, senor. Thanks, Jose. Oh, and keep an eye on the old man, eh? Si, senor. Paulito. Maria, you all right? Si. Oh, I'm so grateful to you, querido. For what? For everything. Everything. Paulito, you take care with Murdock. He's a dangerous man. Yeah, yeah. Now listen to me. From here on, it's going to be different. Different? We'll all be on a small boat for days, maybe weeks. I won't always be around because of the diving. Here, take the gun. Just take it. And hope you don't have to use it. A couple of hours later, Murdock came back and waved us down to the river. Instead of being alone, now he had a native with him. A big man he called Batu. A lot of man. Even through the paint on his face, you could see the combination of Mayan and Inca. The thousand-year-old dignity as he stood looking at us. Trent, this is Batu. I've just arranged for the boat and he's going upriver with us. Go help with the loading, Batu. Batu, help. What are we taking him for, Murdock? He wants to go upriver to his people and he will work for his passage. We can use him. You keep adding, people. Somebody's going to have to swim alongside. Not much of a boat. Now, now, Trent, this is no time to be at each other's throats. I know we are on the right track. Sandoval started getting excited the moment he saw this part of the river. For a guy in his condition, you're doing a lot of depending on him. You let me worry about that. All you have to do is handle your end of things and that won't begin until we start diving. You're wrong, Murdock. I started worrying three years ago, remember? Two days on the river, two long days with Murdock never once taking his eyes off Sandoval, watching each slightest reaction, the bottle always ready. The old man needed that bottle now, his terror growing by the minute, and Murdock loving it because it told him we were getting closer. That night, I was laying out my gear back in the stern when Batu, the big native, came toward me. He wasn't the calm giant anymore, just a man, a terrified man with words tumbling out of his mouth. You tell Batu, you tell. Tell you what? About crazy man. Sandoval, or what about him? Hands. The scars, you mean how did he get them? Yes. I don't know what happened to his hands, but what about him? Why did you come here? To dive, to bring something up from the water, why? No, not go in water, no. Why not, what's wrong? Not go, devil water, devil water, you not go in devil water. And that's all I could get out of him, just that. It took a long time before I got to sleep that night. Late on the third day, we dropped anchor just outside a small cove. Murdock was out of his mind with excitement, but it was too dark for diving. We'd start in the morning. Batu wanted to go ashore to see his people, swore he'd be back before sunup. Murdock didn't like it, but he had no choice. We needed the big man on pumps. In the morning, we were up at dawn, and Batu was back aboard. He didn't say much. He was never more than a couple of feet away from me, and his eyes never left me. But I didn't have time to think about it, I had my own troubles. What's taking you so long, Trent? Oh, you and your penny-pinching, you've been had, Murdock. Well, what's wrong? Well, not a thing, except this winch is on its last leg. Oh, well, let's not argue. Repair it the best you can. Talk's cheap, but I'm the guy who goes down there. Listen to me, Trent, we're close, really close. Sandoval swears it's right beneath us. He has to be right. He's pointed out landmarks all the way. Wait a minute. What's that? It's native drums, you know. Probably a welcome. Get that chute closed, Trent, we're losing time. You'll remember what I say about clear lines down there, you know, huh? I'll remember. And don't you forget... Look, you know, look on the shore. Natives, six or seven of them. It's part of Batu's tribe. What's that they're carrying? Looks like a pig or a goat. And they throw the scut. What is it, Batu? What are they doing? Make sacrifice to river guards. But why now? Save you. From what? What's down there? A native superstition, Trent, where's your intelligence? Are you ready? Batu. You not stay in water long. Cut the air! On the beach, they heard his command and the pig was thrown into the river. A moment later, Jose had bolted my helmet in place and I was being lowered over the side of the boat. Everything was forgotten now. The work is staying alive. That's how it is with diving. You can do it a thousand times, but it's always new. Jose knew it. Through the phone, I could hear him worrying with me. You're right, Sinem. Yeah. Read me. See, he living fathoms. Stay with me. I'm going to have a little rock around. I checked my lines and started toward a large mass of shadow. Distances underwater fool you. I was on it almost before I started. It was a ship or what was left of one. Her back had been broken in two and her stern was right in front of me. I read it aloud. Santa Rosa. What's that, Sinem? I found it. Start a line down. He's found it. You hear? He's found it. I went in carefully, slowly, making sure of my lines. It didn't take me 20 minutes to find it, a tremendous iron bound chest. I scratched the slime off with my knife and there it was. The official seal of Paraguay. There wasn't any doubt now what was inside. I got a line around it, told them which way to swing the winch, and managed to get it out in the clear for the trip up. I just about finished when I felt a signal on my lines. What is it? Batu Cesto, get up here quick. You've been down too long. Why? Trench, this is Murdock. Let's get the gold up first. Another moment won't hurt you. Let's not take chances on a foul line. Let's not take chances on me. Tell Jose to take me up. He tries it, I shall shoot him. The gold comes up first. Stand clear, Trench. Murdock, listen. My knife is across the coast. You turn that winch and I'll cut the line. You hear me? You're insane. I could cut your air holes. Go on, cut it. I'm tired of living with you on my back anyway. All right, Trench, all right. Don't get excited. We're taking you up. Slowly they began taking me up. And then I realized why. Murdock knew once I started up I couldn't possibly get up. I was too scared to do it. I knew once I started up I couldn't possibly cut the line that held the chest. He took me up just far enough to get my hands on the bottom rung of the Jacob's ladder and hang there helplessly. Then, through the phones I could hear the creak of the winch as he started hauling up the chest. Looking up through the water I could see Murdock leaning over the rail as he waited for the chest to break water. And then it happened. A sudden sharp sting on my hand. And when I looked I saw blood. Blood and a six inch fish racing in for another bite. In a second there were more of them. Little needle toothed devils plunging at the canvas suit. Even trying to bite through the steel of the helmet to get at the flesh inside. And at last I understood everything. Why Batuu called it devil water. Why Sandoval had gone insane. And what happened to the crew of the Santa Rosa. That six inch fish was the South American piranha. A cannibal so deadly it strips a man to the bone in 30 seconds. Then I heard something else. The winch. Murdock had been driving it too fast even for a good winch. It started to crumple just as the chest broke water. Murdock saw the chest inches from his hand start slipping back. And the thought of losing the gold drove him crazy. He grabbed for it. Not again. Not again. No. No. No. No. Even as the chest pulled him down past me he was still holding on to it. Even as the piranha left me to strip easier pickings than steel and canvas. He held on to it. And I knew he'd never let go. How could he? Hadn't the gold pulled him halfway around the world. And then climbed out of the water to get him. Under the direction of Norman McDonald escape has brought you Bloodwaters by Tony Barrett starring Vic Perrin. Featured in the cast were Jack Crouchon, Lillian Byoff, Tony Barrett and Barney Phillips. Your announcer George Walsh. The special music for Escape is composed and conducted by Leith Stevens. Next week. You are one of four people trapped in an isolated trading post somewhere in the Yukon territory. The blizzard outside making escape impossible. And you know that before the spring thaws release you. Before you can leave this cabin behind you. One of your companions by consent of the others will be killed. So listen next week when Escape brings you less Crutchfield story. Judgment Day at Crippledeer. Every weekday for 90 solid minutes Arthur Godfrey time presents that redhead himself coming up with one surprise after another. And every Friday night on most of these same CBS radio stations we take the top surprises the biggest laughs out of the daytime shows and grew them together into a big once a week treat. Tomorrow night don't miss the Arthur Godfrey digest at the stars address. Daytime is a gay time with Arthur Godfrey time on the CBS radio network.
