Standard of California, on behalf of independent Chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the West, invites you to let George do it. Another adventure of George Valentine. Personal notice, danger is my stock and trade. If it's way over your head and you need discreet, confidential help, call on me, George Valentine. I'll write full details. My dear Valentine, as a newspaper man and dramatic critic, I've seldom been wrong. When I have been, the public has preferred my polished civilized verdict on a play to the clumsy mouthings of my colleagues. But be that as it may, I've discovered a man of the theater who's cutting on a fabulous masquerade and must be exposed. I need facts and you can get them for me. I suggest you get in touch with me at my office so we can arrange an appointment. Signed Jonathan Thorpe. Jonathan Thorpe, huh? Yeah. Just a minute, Brooksie. Where's this morning's paper? Where it always is after you read the sports page, in the wastebasket. Huh? Now here's the great man's column. Today's theater by Jonathan Thorpe. Oh, the last time he had a kind word for a play or an actor, he used the rest of the column to apologize. It will burn the incense, Angel. I'm about to read some of Thorpe's deathless prose, I quote. Since its opening two weeks ago, I have been repeatedly warning the unsuspecting public against that dramatic abomination now holding forth the majestic theater. A Wind from the Prairie by Luke Eberhardt could be more aptly titled A Breeze from the Stockyard. Them's harsh words, partner. What this play lacks in dramatic instruction it makes up for in sheer illiteracy. For the sweet charity's sake, I say nothing about the inane high school performance of Mark Guilford, the alleged leading man. In more than 20 years, I've seen some pretty bad play. Oh, all right, all right. I get the general idea. Hey, you know, Brooksie, it might be very interesting to meet this poor man's George Bernard Shaw. So how about making that appointment? I'll ring Mr. Thorpe and tell him you're here, Mr. Valentine. That's OK. We're expected. Oh, but he likes to be warned. He never can tell whether to expect an actor. He's roasted in his column or just a blind man he tripped on the street. I'm his first line of defense. Oh, the perfect receptionist. I see you're a member of the Down with Thorpe Society. What have you got against Jonathan? Oh, nothing. He just won't stop breathing. Right down the hall here on the main floor, the last office. Come on, Brooksie. OK. Mr. Thorpe, there's a Mr. Valentine on his way to see you. Oh, I bet he's just a little runt with a Napoleon complex. Please, Angel, please. You're talking about a client. Ah, Valentine, come in. Ah, this is my assistant, Miss Brooks. How do you do? It's a pleasure. Sit down, sit down. Thank you. Well, Valentine, I suppose you're just corroded with curiosity about this character I mentioned in my letter. Well, I'd like to know more about him, if that's what you mean. I am not a malicious man. I live for the theater. I regard it as a sacred temple. It's bad enough to see it desecrated by mediocre talents. I won't have a criminal take refuge in it. What is this monster done, Mr. Thorpe? So many years ago, he was the key figure in a rather daring robbery. A robbery which, by the way, has never been solved. Yeah, go on. This worthy young man donned a bank messenger's uniform, hypnotized a dim-witted lady cashier with his charm, and walked out with ten thousand dollars. Well, tell me, how did you get this information, Thorpe? I came up from the ranks as a reporter. Valentine, I have a great many, shall we say, unorthodox contacts. Well, let's have the name of your man. Mark Guilford. What? You mean the star of Luke Eberhardt's play? The one you've been panning for the last two weeks? That wasn't the reason that I panned it, Valentine. But that is the man. When you decided to take this fling of crime, you were just another unemployed actor. Mark Guilford? Oh, that's hard to believe. Oh, Miss Brooks, you're just like my wife, Evelyn. Here, look at the picture. Very young and beautiful, but equally naive. You see, things like this do happen. Excuse me. Yes, Peggy? Who? Oh, tell him I'm... I want to talk to you, Thorpe. Never mind, Peggy. The wind from the prairie just blew in. What can I do for you, Eberhardt? I don't remember your making an appointment. Why don't you lay off me, Thorpe? You got something else to write about besides my play. What have you got against me? Nothing personal, my dear fellow, except that I find your brainchild particularly offensive. Now, please, I have business with Mr. Valentine here. Oh, don't mind that. The other critics didn't think it was so bad. You're deliberately murdering it. If I am, it's a mercy killing. I don't know why you're doing this, but I'm warning you. Lay off. If you don't... Bravo! You should be playing Mark Guilford's part. It would be an improvement. Good day, Mr. Eberhardt. Why, you... Oh. His first play. One is tempted to be kind, but that would only encourage him to write another one. Now, where were we, Valentine? Tell me, Mr. Thorpe, this business about Mark Guilford. Why don't you go to the police with it? Maybe that's so simple you didn't think of. I'm a newspaper man, Miss Brooks. When I'm sure of the story, all the facts, I'll write it up. Then the police can take it from there. And now, Valentine? Yeah? This list. Unsavory individuals, to be sure, but they'll give you the information you'll need about Guilford. And this check. It'll do as a retainer, I'm sure. Okay, thanks. Now, how about a couple of passes for the majestic tonight? I wasn't wrong when I called you in, Valentine. You're a brave man. I just want to see if a wind from the prairie could possibly be as bad as you say it is. Besides, I'd like very much to get a load of Mark Guilford in action. I know it's lonely here, Alice, but we belong in this house. You and I are complete, and our love will be as timeless as those mountains, and always as clean and fresh as a wind from the prairie. George, you haven't even been listening. What's that, Angela? That girl in the front row, you haven't taken your eyes off her. Wait a minute. Let her go up the aisle ahead of us. Okay. Hey, George, I recognize her now. The picture Thorpe showed us. His wife. Uh-huh. Now, let's stay right behind her. Right. But, Mrs. Thorpe, there was only one person on that stage tonight, Mark Guilford. Oh, I thought he was quite good. And it really wasn't a bad play. I can't blame Everheart for wanting to see Thorpe roasted on both sides. But Jonathan's campaign worked, all right? The house was half empty. Taxi! Where'd you park the car, George? Oh, wait a minute, Brooks. Excuse me. Oh, I see what you mean. Yeah. Mrs. Thorpe is heading down the alley, straight for the stage door. And Mark Guilford. Oh, Angel, I think I want out of this deal. Why? It's the old triangle. But with Jonathan Thorpe in one corner, it promises to be nastier than usual. All these talk about the theater, a sacred temple. Oh, no. I'm not digging into anybody's pants for Thorpe and whatever game he's playing. And, Brooks, I'm going to tell her tomorrow that it's strictly out of my line. Oh, it's you again. I'll ring Mr. Thorpe. It's okay, Peggy. I found a message at my apartment last night. His Highness wants to see me at 11 o'clock, and I sure want to see him. Is he free, Peggy? If he left a message for you, he knows you'll be here. He usually gets what he wants from everybody. You know, I ought to learn to keep my mouth shut. Look out. You might talk yourself into that yet. Wait a minute. I don't have you down on a talk list of a point. Forget it, beautiful. We'll skip protocol this morning. Now, look, Thorpe, I don't know why you wanted to see me, but I need to call it quits. You... Oh, now listen. You're not that busy. You can at least turn around when I... What's the matter with him, George? Hey, just a minute, Brooksy. Oh, if he could turn around with a knife stuck in his chest, it'd be the neatest trick of the week. The... the letter opener? Yeah. Oh, and he... he just seemed to sit there as though... Hey, Peggy, get me Lieutenant Riley at police headquarters, quick. You okay, Brooksy? Oh, fine. But wait till Riley hears about this. Yeah, I know. He'll probably... Oh, Lieutenant, this is Valentine. I want... You've been asking for this. Jonathan, turn around. Mr. Thorpe, put that gun down! Oh, George! Hang on, Riley. Stay on the line. I... I killed him. You certainly did your best. But he didn't suffer as much as he made other people suffer. I don't care. I don't care what happens now. Brooksy, take her over there. Yeah, yeah. No matter what they do to me, couldn't be worse than what I've been through. All right, all right, now, Mrs. Thorpe. Okay, Riley, you can stop your yelling. Yes, those were shots you heard. Jonathan Thorpe, the dramatic critic. Oh, yes, I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. Jonathan Thorpe, the dramatic critic, fine arts building. Better get over here right away. Now, look, try to get a hold of yourself, Mrs. Thorpe. What? Who are you? What are you doing here? Her name's Valentine. Your late husband hired me to investigate Mark Guilford. I know all about that. He made sure I did. He taunted me with it. That's why I killed him. But, Mrs. Thorpe, I think you ought to know that... Go ahead, Brooksy, let it go on. I wasn't going to let him wreck Mark's life. I asked him for a divorce, but he couldn't stand the thought of my finding any happiness. Oh, it was all right for him to humiliate me whenever his ego needed some woman to fawn over him. And that girl Peggy outside was one of them. I... I suppose I should feel horrified at what I've done. But I don't. George, you've got to tell her. Tell me what? You didn't kill your husband, Mrs. Thorpe. What are you saying? Just that. Somebody beat you to it. Valentine, you never come up with a nice, simple murder. Oh, no, no. The guy's got to be killed twice just to make things twice as complicated for me. Oh, why do you do this to me? You flatter me, Lieutenant. I didn't arrange all this just to keep you from getting bored. What about Mrs. Thorpe? I still feel as though I killed Jonathan. I meant to. I had murder in my heart. Well, you'll have to work that out with your own conscience, Mrs. Thorpe. The simple legal fact is that he was already dead when you shot him. Well, then there can't be any charges against Mr. Thorpe. Oh, Lieutenant. Ah, yes, Valentine. Now, if I promise on a bright not to complicate things, how about me playing along? Well, okay, but just stay out of my way. Oh, that'll be easy, Lieutenant. I'm pretty sure what I have in mind would be much too weird for your tastes. We'll return to tonight's adventure of George Valentine in just a moment. Meanwhile, a word about your vacation inventory. When there's a family vacation coming up, usually it's the lady of the house who keeps a checklist of things to get ready. But there's a man in your neighborhood who keeps a checklist for your vacation, too. You'll find him at an independent Chevron gas station and at the standard station. His checklist is designed to get your car in shape for the toughest trip. So before you start out, better ask him to inspect your car's battery, headlights, tires, spark plugs, and oil. He'll see that everything's in order, that your car's ready to take on all the carefree vacation miles you want to cover. And by the way, while you're at his service station, ask about Polaroid sunglasses. They'll spare you a lot of eyestrain in glaring sunlight. On on the highways and byways, keep your vacation carefree by stopping in at standard stations and independent Chevron gas stations where they say and mean, we'll take better care of your car. And now back to tonight's adventure of George Valentine. Well, if you were in George's shoes, here's the situation in which you'd find yourself. A caustic, well-hated, dramatic critic hires you to clear up an unsolved crime. But before you can even get started, you find said critic with a letter opener in his chest. And then before you can even say, well, what do you know, the critic's wife rushes in and pumps her already dead spouse full of lead. At headquarters, George and Lieutenant Riley are trying to bring a little order out of chaos. All right now, Piggy, take a good look at Mr. Guilford. Look, Riley, you don't have to drag this out. You'd better let the lieutenant do this his own way, Guilford. It'll save a lot of time. Well, I'm looking, Lieutenant. All right. When was the last time you saw him? Ten o'clock this morning. He breezed past my desk and headed straight for Thorpe's office. And words began to fly. Not being a lady, I'd be glad to go into detail. I've already told you, Thorpe and I had a quarrel. He knew the trouble I was mixed up in three years ago and was holding it over Evelyn so she wouldn't divorce him. I told him to go to the police with it, get it over with. And what did Thorpe have to say? What did he ever have to say? He just sat there and made with epigrams. He was on the spot, Guilford. You were in love with his wife and he was digging into your past. That's an awful lot of motive. Now, Peggy. Yes, Mr. Valentine? After Mr. Guilford left, are you sure Thorpe had no other visitors till I showed up with Miss Brooks at 11? I ought to be sure. All I have to do at that desk is to watch people go in and out. We had a fight. Lord knows I felt like killing him, but I didn't. The coroner's report says Thorpe was stabbed to death sometime between 10 and 11. I didn't kill him. If you ask my opinion, Lieutenant, Mr. Guilford did the world a favor. Young lady, we're dealing with murder. Just the same, exterminators are paid for getting rid of things like Thorpe. That's a personal character reference, Lieutenant. You know, I ought to keep my mouth shut. You know, that's a good idea. Oh, Mrs. Thorpe, can you come in now, please? Mark, Mark. Oh, easy darling, easy. Let's get away from here anyway. Mrs. Thorpe, Peggy tells us that only one person saw your husband this morning. That is, before I showed up. Then why have you been questioning Mark in here all this time? Well, why? He wasn't there? Tell them, Mark, tell them. No, Evelyn, we must... What about Luke Eberhardt? Jonathan had an appointment with him at 10.30. He mentioned it at breakfast. He never kept it. I still don't know what that has to do with Mark. I was there, darling. What? Well, you promised you wouldn't. Sorry, Mrs. Thorpe, but there's no question about his being there. Evelyn, you've got to believe me. I didn't kill him. I had to talk to him about us once and for all. I'm afraid I'm booking you on suspicion of murder. Come on with me. And if you have any more talking to do, you'd better wait till you see your lawyer. Wait, you can't lock him up. I'll raise bail for him. This is a murder charge, Mrs. Thorpe. That'll be all for now, Peggy. You can go. And thanks. Hmm. And I think he once said he might make me the second Mrs. Thorpe. Boy, was I lucky. When will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut? Oh, I can't believe it. I won't believe it, Mr. Valentine. Mark couldn't have done anything like this. Well, unfortunately, Mrs. Thorpe, the faith that moves mountains doesn't move the police. They're sticklers for evidence. Mr. Valentine. Yeah? You were willing to work for Jonathan. Well, as a matter of fact... All he wanted to do was hurt people. Won't you help me now prove that Mark is innocent? You mean you're putting me on the payroll, Mrs. Thorpe? Yes. Oh, please. Okay. Okay, we'll call your husband's retainer check, the down payment. Now, you understand, of course, I may only come up with the kind of evidence that'll build the case for the police. No, you won't. I'll take that chance. Mark is innocent. All right, Mrs. Thorpe, all right. I'll do my best. And I think I'll start by having a chat with Luke Eberhart, the man who didn't keep his appointment. I thought you'd be dropping around, Valentine. Hi, Eberhart. This is my assistant, Miss Brooks. How do you do? She was rather charmed with the way you blew your top at Thorpe's office yesterday. You know, if I wanted to read things into it, I might even say you were threatening Mr. Thorpe. I should have pushed that guy's face to the back of his head. Now, get out of here, both of you. Oh, now, look, friend, put a lid on that temper of yours. Here, have a cigarette. I'll roll my own. Sure, George, like they do on the rolling prairies. But I don't understand how with all that wind you can talk... Now, cease, stooge, boy, you like this all the time. Anywhere the routine leaves me cold. Go on, get out, Valentine. Don't crowd me, prairie boy. I'm here on business. Now, what about that appointment you had with Thorpe this morning at 10.30? Who made you a cop? Show him your Dick Tracy badge, darling. Come on, answer the question now. You will be telling it to the cops. I don't know anything about an appointment. Get going. Thorpe was a prissy, methodical man. He kept an appointment book. And he also gave a list of expected visitors to Peggy the receptionist. You were on that list, Everhud. Okay, I didn't keep the appointment. I was afraid I'd lose my temper and kill him. Can you prove you weren't there? Can anybody prove I was? Look, I read the papers. They got Guilford and they don't want me. Now, out you go. I know, but you're gonna straight on me. He wants to offer. Look out, George. Not do more than that. I'll... And stay out. Well, I'd say Shakespeare Jr. has a tough guy complex. Well, next time, Brooks, he'll remind me it needs psychiatric treatment. Yeah, something therapeutic, like a haymaker. Oh, well, now where? Thorpe's office. There must be something there we've overlooked. Anyway, that's the way I've got to play it. Wow, Mrs. Thorpe. I see you're doing a little private snooping. I was just going through Jonathan's correspondence. So many people hated him enough to kill him, I thought I might find a letter or a note that would help us. Thought of Mark in jail's... Tell me, Mrs. Thorpe, how did you get into your husband's office? They've got a police sergeant stationed outside at Peggy's desk. I know. Came in by the fire exit on the second floor and down the stairs on the rear. Why, you don't say. You know, it might be a good idea for you to stay on the sidelines and let me take care of this. Now, Brooksie, let's be just as methodical about this as the late Jonathan Thorpe would be. First, we'll... Mr. Valentine. Well? In this ashtray. Cigarette butts. Five ordinary cigarette butts. So what? This one. It isn't like the ones Jonathan has specially made for him. I've roamed. Remember George? Eberhardt. When he was here yesterday, he wasn't smoking. So he must have been here this morning. I'll take this, Mrs. Thorpe. He could have known about that fire exit on the second floor and that's why Peggy didn't see him. Brooksie, take Mrs. Thorpe over to Lieutenant Riley's. Right. Looks like I may have to use that psychiatric treatment on Eberhardt sooner than I thought. So come on, Mr. Eberhardt. You and I are going visiting. What are you talking about? We're going to have a little coffee clutch down at headquarters. And you may turn out to be the guest of honor. See, I'm going to have to throw you out again. Oh brother, if you do, I'll bounce right back in your face. Let's see how you bounce. You're a wide open sucker. Chin up. You were lying through your teeth before, Eberhardt. You were in Thorpe's office this morning. We found a butt of one of your hand-rolled cigarettes. Oh, you're out of your mind. That's right, that's right. Come on now, get up and be sociable. Now you made a natural mistake. Most times people pinch out a cigarette and don't even realize they're doing it. You're not pinning anything on me. Hey, what do I have to do to soften you up there? Now come on. Okay, okay. Yes, Lieutenant Riley. I was there, just like Valentine says. Then why did you lie about it when we first questioned you? Well, I was playing it safe. A lot of people knew how I felt about Thorpe, the way he was kneeling in my place. Yeah, you were pretty specific about what you'd like to do to Thorpe when I was there yesterday. Lieutenant, why don't you ask him why he used the fire stage and stairs in the first place? Oh, Miss Brooks, Miss Brooks, what would I do without you? And why don't you give me a chance to find out? Touchy. Yeah. Well, what about that, Eberhardt, huh? Well, Thorpe really wanted to town on me in this morning's newspaper. I didn't want that receptionist to come barging in, not before I was through taking him apart. With the help of a letter opener? No, no, he was alive when I left him. In fact, I didn't even touch him. Why the change of heart? I suppose he begged your pardon pretty please, huh? He said he was going to stop writing about my play. Didn't fit in his plans anymore, whatever he meant by that. I think we know what he meant by that, Lieutenant. All Thorpe was ever interested in was giving Mark Guilford the works. With me on the job, he thought that was in the bag. Eberhardt, you know what your story's done for you, don't you? What? How do you mean? If Thorpe was alive when you left, that lets Mark Guilford out. Peggy saw him leave the building at a quarter after ten. Wait a minute, you can't... Now you're the last known person to be in Thorpe's office before Valentine got there, and just a few minutes before that at that. I don't care how it sounds, I told you the truth. I'm afraid I'm going to have to hold you. Do what you want, but it won't get you anywhere. It would be all right if I went outside and told Mr. Thorpe you're releasing Mark Guilford. Hold it, Bruxy. Lieutenant. Yes? How about keeping this dentist crow for about a half hour, huh? Well, forgive my curiosity, but why? And would you mind getting Peggy the receptionist over here? I still say why. And would you call the boys in the photo lab and ask them to extend me the courtesy of the profession? I won't ask why. One of these days I'm going to say no to you, even if I have to eat crow for it. Thanks, Lieutenant. Well, I told you I had something in mind that was on the weird side. Well, uh, that was understatement. This is all very cozy, Lieutenant, but what do you want with me? I told you all I knew. Oh, this is Mr. Valentine's party, Peggy. Let him go on. Thank you, Lieutenant. Why can't Mark leave this place now that you know he didn't kill Jonathan? Well, for one thing, Mrs. Thorpe, there's still the little matter of that robbery. Oh, for heaven's sake, George, get to the point. All right. Here, Lieutenant, take a look at this cigarette stuff. Yeah? It's hand-rolled. Sure. That's what put the finger on Everhart. What of it? Just this, Lieutenant. When you open it, you see a slight smear of lipstick on the inside of the cigarette paper. This was rolled by a woman. A woman? You know, Mrs. Thorpe, a police chemist can always analyze this lipstick and prove it's yours. Yes, but... It won't do any good to lie, Mrs. Thorpe. So let's have it. Looks like everybody gets to play in this game. No, I'm not going to lie. I did plant that cigarette in Jonathan's ashtray. I knew about Everhart and his cigarette. And it didn't matter at all to you that you might be framing an innocent man? But he is innocent. I knew he kept that appointment. I had to find a way to make him admit it, and I did. Yes, you certainly did. Can't you see I had to do it, Lieutenant? When everything looked so black for Mark, I put that cigarette in the ashtray and pointed it out to Mr. Valentine. I had to fight for our happiness. I had to. Okay, okay. Take it easy, Mrs. Thorpe. All right, Valentine, so she framed the evidence. But it still leaves Everhart just where he was. This is just like a movie, Mr. Valentine, but where do I fit in? Oh, you play a very important part, Peggy. Oh? If Mr. Thorpe was so scrupulous about giving you a list of the visitors he expected, now why do you suppose my appointment for 11 o'clock wasn't there? How would I know? It was just a message left at your apartment, George. Somebody else could have made the appointment. Ah, you're so right, Brooks. Come on, get to the point, will you, Valentine? Here is the picture. Police photographers took of Thorpe's desk as soon as they arrived on scene. There are five cigarette stubs in the ashtray, see? Yeah, that's right. Five stubs, huh? Mrs. Thorpe, you couldn't have planted another one at the time you said you did. That would have made it six, and there were never more than five. In fact, here it is right in the picture. Gee, that's right, George. It happened just the way I told you. Oh, no. You left it when you stabbed your husband after Eberhard left. No! It was the added touch to make sure Eberhard was connected with the crime. Yes, and you made that appointment for me. You needed a witness to say that you shot Thorpe after he was already dead, almost automatically, and then eliminating you as a suspect. Now wait, Valentine. The second time doesn't count, Mrs. Thorpe, but the first time calls for the works. Golly, George. Jonathan Thorpe must be turning over in his grave. Well, if he is, Angel, it's with an appropriate effort. Here in the paper, after the panning he gave a win from the prairie. All the publicity is making it a box office smash. Now, the little ironies of life. This case was full of them. What do you mean, darling? Well, Mrs. Thorpe, with all her well-laid plans, never dreamt Mark Guilford would plunder in that morning and make himself the number one suspect. And the cigarette she planted. Instead of clearing, Mark just placed the guilt on her. One final bit of irony. The biggest slip she made was the most obvious, but one we overlooked at the time. Oh, what was that? Well, look, Angel, when you come in and send three bullets in the general direction of a man's back, you're bound to wonder whether he's still alive. Yeah, that's right. Well, Evelyn Thorpe didn't. Now, she went right into hysterics. You see, Brooksy, she already knew he was dead. MUSIC Some folks claim that one motor oil is just like another until a mechanic tells them they need a new set of piston rings. But folks who use RPM motor oil find piston ring troubles are few and far between. This premium quality motor oil is compounded to keep a cooling lubricant on upper cylinder walls at all times. Whether your car is standing cold for hours at a time or running hot, RPM clings to vertical engine parts left bare exposed to wear by ordinary oils. And because RPM is always on the job, your chances of engine trouble caused by rust are reduced to about zero. That's mighty important when you remember that hidden rust causes as much as 80 percent of engine wear in the average car. No wonder RPM motor oil is the choice of Western motorists two to one over any other motor oil. For trouble-free operation and longer car life, get RPM tomorrow at independent Chevron gas stations and standard stations where they say, and mean, we'll take better care of your car. MUSIC Next week when you tune our way for another adventure of George Valentine, you'll hear... I am cornered, and this is a desperate plea. Could you be at my apartment tomorrow morning and sign Joyce Dunning? Husband, wife, best friend, the time-worn triangle, Brooksie. Yeah, but something new's been added, darling. The third member of the triangle doesn't usually get such consideration from the rival female in the cave. Yeah, but Brooksie, I wonder if Miss Dunning's reference to death could be a refined way of hinting at murder. MUSIC Tonight's adventure of George Valentine has been brought to you by Standard of California on behalf of independent Chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the West. Let George Do It stars Robert Bailey as George with Francis Robin as Claire. Wally Mayer appears as Lieutenant Riley. Tonight's story was written by David Victor and Herbert Little, Jr. and directed by Don Clark. Also heard in the cast were Ramsey Hill as Jonathan Thorpe, Virginia Gregg as Evelyn Thorpe, Betty Moran as Peggy, Peter Leeds as Mark Guilford, and Jeff Chandler as Eberhardt. The music is composed and conducted by Eddie Dunstetter. Your announcer, John Heston. Listen again next week, same time, same station, to Let George Do It. MUSIC This is the Mutual Don Lee Broadcasting System. MUSIC
