Personal notice, danger is my stock and trade. If the job is too tough for you to handle, you got a job for me, George Valentine. Write full details. Standard of California on behalf of Independent Chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the West invites you to let George do it. No riders, another adventure of George Valentine. Mr. Valentine, there's a boy who needs your help terribly. His name is Floyd Branson and he's in terrible trouble. He hasn't got any friends and they won't let me see him. He'll still be here, I think, until the fire's over. It's a terrible fire. Please, please drive fast and get here. It's on Highway 41 just a few miles east of Paso Robles. You can find me because I'm a waitress at the Stop and Tip Cafe. Respectfully, Wanda Murphy. Mudface, where's the coffee? I'm fixing it as fast as I can. Go, Mr. Valentine. Hey, hey, hey, what's this? I'm so tired. Everybody's tired. Will Wanda count you to sit down? Oh, I've been on a loan since six last night. That's when he was here eating supper. Tommy Tucker, I mean, the one that died. The what? He's a truck driver for a San Francisco fur company. Hey, Mudface, what's this about Tommy? Oh, ask one of the men down the counter, Mr. Evans. They know more than I do. Salesman, that's all. So I could, Mabel's not here. She's good-looking. Yeah, well, skip it. Now look, Wanda, I know you're groggy, but in words of one syllable, what's it all about? Well, you said something about a fire. We saw carloads of men on the highway. Well, that's what I've been doing, feeding all those men. You've seen, Mr. Valentine, last night a truck went over the gray 11 or 12 miles east of here towards Bakersfield. It went out of control and the driver was killed. Uh-huh. That's Tommy Tucker. And the fire was from the wreck, is that it? Truck caught the grass on fire? Brash and scrubbed timber, yes. But they were afraid it would spread. Only just now getting it out. Not that far, only... Hey, boy, what do you think of that old timid Tommy, huh, mud-face? Say, how long's he been on this run anyway? Oh, George, give me a nickel. Yeah, yeah. You hear me, Wanda? I said, how long's he been on this run anyway? Thanks, I don't know as much as I do. All right, Wanda, there was a wreck and a fire. But you wanted to see it for something else, didn't you? Something like a boy in terrible trouble? Floyd Bronson. Okay, let's hear it. He... Well, I don't know what it is exactly, but I just met Floyd yesterday, Mr. Valentine. Yeah, go on. Well, he was just going through, but I had the afternoon off and I was sitting here playing records when he stopped by. He sort of talked and I talked and I guess we talked nearly all afternoon. Salesmen and truck drivers don't pay much attention to him except a kid about the food. He was... Well, he was different. He liked you and you liked him. Oh, yes, yes, very mutual. I mean, well, he said he'd write to me. He hasn't got a family like I don't either. But he's expecting a very good job down in Bakersfield and... Anyway... Floyd isn't working now, huh? No, but he's really expecting... I meant yesterday he was going through hitchhiking, right? Yes. He left here late in the afternoon with a farmer who said he'd taken the first few miles. Hitchhiking on 41, going east, right? Yes, sir. The same way as the truck that was wrecked later on. What happened, Wanda? Oh, I don't know. But the first we saw of anything was a highway patrol car coming back here. And inside was Floyd. And they locked him up in that auto-cord across the highway by the woods. But if Floyd's under arrest, what's it for? Well, he hasn't got any friends or anybody to help. I told you I don't know him. All right, all right, Wanda. I'll find out for myself. But in the meantime, do something, will you? Sir, what is it, sir? Well, I was going to say pour yourself a cup of your own coffee, but... Hey, look, after this, call me George, huh? So, Wanda asked you to help me, huh? Yeah, yeah, the kid's upset. Worried silly about you. Well, you know how it is. No, I don't. Well, she's a nice enough kid, I guess, but, you know, a guy travels around like I do. Oh, I see. A traveler, huh? Okay, what happened on the highway? Well, nothing. I mean, all I got a hitch from a farmer, five or six miles, and, boy, nothing had picked me up. Not many cars on 41 at night, anyway. Guess I walked for hours until, well, there it was. The wreck? Sure, burning like a house on fire in a brush, too. I was just wondering where I could get help when... Yeah, when a cop's car came along and you ran. Oh, but just to get out of the way, it was coming fast and, well... Huh? Well, really, Mr. Valentine, that's what happened. That's what happened. Well, Wanda was sure right about one thing, Floyd. If ever a guy needs help, you're it. And you're the man who owned the truck, huh, Mr. Jesse? Yeah, yeah, lots of them. Look at this here. Silver Fox says he was going to deliver to a store in Bakersfield. Couldn't tell him from Parchman now. Stuff's insured, isn't it? Oh, yeah, but it's a headache. Know what happens to wholesale furriers like me? They get bald. Sure not much left at the back of that truck. And this crate of Persian lamb, shish kebab. And the box of chinchilla looks like burned cigar butts. Okay, okay, so you've had bad luck with Mr. Jesse. Oh, Valentine, I'm not complaining just for fun. It's because I've been up all night driving to get her and to see what could be saved. Well, the driver, Mr. Valentine, Tommy Tucker, nicest boy I ever had working for me. I liked him. Yeah, I understand. So, if there's anything funny about this, if it's not just a case of Tommy's clutch or brakes giving out on the grade, well, what about that kid they picked up? You know, as much as I do, or the police so far. Mr. Justin, has anyone ever tried to rob one of your trucks? I mean, on such an out-of-the-way road, it could be. No, no, this is not a movie, Miss Brooks. Cargo's all boxed and locked and bolted to the floor. Besides, it's all still here. What's left of it? Still was curious about that kid, that's all. So am I. He was running away from the wreck. And maybe he was in the wreck. He doesn't want to admit it. You mean maybe Tommy had picked him up? Sure, why not? Little company, late at night. No, no, no, that doesn't make sense. Why not? Well, you see the sign, no riders. That's the one rule we're really temp about. And Tommy wasn't the boy to break rules. Yeah, I heard a salesman call him Timmy Tommy. Oh, conscientious that's all. Reliable. I told you, the best man I ever had. Best driver, too. That's what bothers me. Say, what did they find up here in the cab of the truck? Ashes, mostly, you see. Flashlight was here in the seat. Huh? Truck's out of gear, huh? Yeah. I got a mechanic coming to take a look. Little iron ring. What's that, William? Two little iron rings about an inch in diameter. On the shelf up here, back of the seat, see? Yeah, I saw those, Miss Corxin, but I can't... Fire's pretty well under control now, but I sent Tucker's body off to Paso Robles. Oh, thanks, McGee. Two things bother me, Valentine. Yeah? Number one, we couldn't find any jacket any place for the driver, Tucker. Not even a zipper. But in the fire, it might have burned. And anyway, maybe he didn't have one. The cab of a truck is heated, isn't it? Well, I know, it doesn't mean much. But finding a wallet does. A wallet? That's right. A firefighter just phoned from several miles down the road. Says, come take a look at something he picked up there. Tucker's wallet. I said you're a liar, Floyd. No, I'm not. I already told you. It'll only take Mr. McGee a few minutes to get back here, Floyd. So if you expect us to help you, you better... This is just an ordinary leather jacket, isn't it? You can buy them like this by the minions at Army Navy stores. You can steal them off bodies, too. No, I didn't. I told you I didn't. I said steal them off bodies. No, no, it wasn't even on him. It wasn't... Oh, is that so? Well, anyway, I didn't steal it. It was lying there on the ground, phoned from the cab like he was. I was cold, and I knew I'd have a long way to go for help, and so I took it. This was when you just happened by the scene of an accident. Sure. Now, when you looked to see if the driver was dead, you looked in his pocket for his wallet. It was in the jacket, Mr. Valentine. Honest, it was. I didn't realize it until after the cops had picked me up. And I knew I'd be in worse trouble, so when they weren't looking, I threw it out the window of their car. That would explain how it was found down on the road. Floyd, when you hitchhike, do you carry a rucksack? What? I know you haven't got one now, but you see these little iron rings? Well, they're what hold the straps of a rucksack. The rest of it was burned, I suppose, inside the cab of the truck. Well, Mr. Valentine... Now, for the last time, will you tell me the truth? Well, what really happened... Never mind that phony preamble. Well, all right. I was walking down the road, see? Nobody picked me up, and I was worn out, so finally I stood in the middle of the road. Then a sedan came along, didn't even see me. I had to die for the ditch. It hurt my ankle, and I was still lying there when the fur truck came along. And it stopped? Sure. The driver thought I'd been hurt in an accident. He helped tape up my ankle. He did, here. See it? And he was such a conscientious jerk, he wouldn't let me ride. He said if anybody was seen in his cab, he'd be fired. It was the rules. So I pretended I was sicker than I was, and he finally opened the back of the truck where I couldn't be seen. He said he'd dump me out before he got to Bakersfield. Then what happened? Well, I was so tired, I fell asleep, and next thing I knew, there'd been this accident. It broke the whole rear end. You saw how. Well, I was off a freight for a second, and the fire was burning around me, and... Well, you know all the rest. Yeah. Now, even forgetting it's a wild story, what bothers me is, why didn't you say all this in the first place? It's like pulling teeth, isn't it? Maybe we'll have to pull out a mower of Valentine. Mr. McKinney? Yes, yes, I've been out there listening. Some story, son. Well, it's what really happened. Is it? I just got a phone call, Valentine. Coroner in Paso Robles says Tommy Tucker was murdered. What? He hit over the head with a heavy instrument, sometime before the accident. Instrument appears to be that flashlight we found. Your fingerprints are on it, Floyd. Music We'll return to tonight's adventure of George Valentine in just a moment. Maybe you're counting on your favorite football team to do its very best this coming weekend. If you're driving to the game, I can tell you how to make sure your car does its very best. What the team does is up to the coach. What your car does depends on your choice of gasoline. Make it Chevron Supreme gasoline, for here's a premium quality gasoline that's climate tailored. Tailored to the season and to each different altitude and temperature zone in the west. That means peak performance whenever you drive and wherever. Try a tank full of Chevron Supreme tomorrow. Right away, you'll notice the difference. Faster start, smoother pick up in traffic, ping-free power on hills. In fact, you can't buy a better gasoline for today's high compression engines. Get Chevron Supreme at standard stations and at independent Chevron gas stations where they say, and mean, we take better care of your car. Music Now back to tonight's adventure of George Valentine. You go to a little roadside cafe on Highway 41, east of Paso Robles. You go to help a girl who wants you to help a boy. The girl is plain and lonely, but the boy is a little harder figure. Floyd Bronson was in the wreck of a truck last night, but it's like pulling teeth to get him to tell you about it. And if you're anything like George Valentine, you're never very satisfied with the teeth you extract. Which ones are real and which ones are false? Well, just now Mr. McGee of the sheriff's office has said something which may shed a little light on the subject. Good Samaritan stops to pick up a hitchhiker, then gets brained and robbed for his kindness. Afterwards, it's a good idea to wreck the vehicle, cover up the evidence. I didn't do it. Well, how about your fingerprints on that flashlight? Well, I've been thinking about that. I guess I held the flashlight while he put the tape on my ankle, you know, like I told you. You always seem to have explanations after we tell you what we want explained. Well, sometimes it's hard to remember, that's all. Oh, kid, kid, you watch the world like a card player expecting a crooked deal. Well, don't you know how that makes you look? A Sharpie holding aces in his pocket. Oh, everything I told you is the truth. You can't prove anything is a lie, can you? No, Floyd, I'll say that for you. You don't trip yourself, but then neither does a lizard. Come on, Valentine, let's go into town and see what else the coroner has. Wait a minute, wait a minute, Mr. McGee. Why, I'll send a patrol car back for you. But I just thought of something. I did. You know, well, it is hard to remember. I mean, what really happened. Yes, it better be good. Well, like I told you, I was asleep in the back of the truck, remember? Well, I think I heard voices. Voices? Where? Well, we'd gone over a bumper, maybe we'd stopped. Yeah, yeah, that's it. And then riding along, I heard the driver talking to somebody with him in the cab. Wait a minute, how did you know it was the driver talking? Well, I didn't exactly. I mean, the whole thing was kind of a memory, that's all. Two voices up there. But he must have stopped to pick up another hitchhiker, don't you think? Sure, sure, that must have been it. That must have been it. It won't work, son. Who was it told as Tommy Tucker wouldn't carry rioters up front? Said he was so conscientious about the rules, he wouldn't take a hitchhiker up there. Oh, well, I did, but, well, I might have been wrong about that. Maybe he just didn't want me to ride up there, you know. He did. Don't make it any worse. Well, Mr. Valentine, I suppose Tucker might have picked somebody up, but I can't believe it. What about a man riding in the back of the truck, Mr. Justin? Oh, he thought the boy was hurt and there's no way the load could be bothered. I wouldn't blame a driver for that. He wouldn't have given his mother-in-law a ride to her own funeral. What's that? No, it's fact. Evans is my name, wholesale plumbing. Just been waiting for a chance to help you guys. Yeah, well, look, salesman. Emmett Tommy Tucker, that was my name for him. Oh, a real sweet boy, don't misunderstand me, but he swallowed the rule book. You know what I mean? Afraid of the powers that be. Now look, friend. Wait a minute, George. Go on, Mr. Evans. My pleasure, Miss. I saw the King City about a month ago. I ran out of gas and tried to flag a hitch. Along came Tommy, but do you think he'd pick me up? No, not on your 10-type. And that's me, mind you. Travel the same route all the time. A friend, frankly. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I think we get the idea. Another funny thing that happened was... Thanks, Mr. Thanks. Now, I doubt if Tommy did pick up a second hitchhiker or that he was carrying anyone in front, Mr. Valentine, or maybe even in the back. Well, at least some of Floyd Bronson's story isn't true. How do you know? How do you know a person's guilty until they've been proven so? How do you? Oh, Wanda, Wanda, come over here, will you? Excuse us. All right, sir. But how do you... Now, you listen to me. I don't get mad at a case just because I don't like the way somebody parts his hair. But that boyfriend of yours can't even look me in the eye. But it's only a habit, Mr. Valentine. Is it? You've been standing around watching everything, scared to death, Floyd, to get himself in deeper and deeper. It's just that... Oh, well, I knew he'd act that way, not really stand up for himself right. How did you know, Wanda? Well, even yesterday he... he told me things that weren't true. What things? Oh, just little things. About jobs he'd had and was going to get, important people he knew, places he'd been. Sure, sure, a little boy with a big line. Now, kid, what you see in a guy like that is beyond me. Mr. Valentine, he doesn't mean to tell things. And gosh, nobody can be perfect. Only... Only I don't even think Floyd Bronson's his name. You... Holy sister, why didn't you say? Oh, I'm so tired. Now, I'm not sure, but... Well, he gave me an address I could write to him later on. He wrote it on an old envelope. Only... Well, there was a place where he'd scratched a name out, and it was sort of like his. It was Mickey Floyd. Mickey Floyd, huh? Here, give me some change for the phone. Long distance. The phone's across the highway at the motel. But Mr. Valentine... Oh, now relax, relax. Come on, come on, get some change. MUSIC Yeah. So that's the story, huh? Okay, Lieutenant Riley, thanks. Sure, I got it. Well, George, what'd they say in the city? Same thing they'll say in the country as soon as McGee's fingerprint report comes through. George, what are you talking about? Mickey Floyd, alias Floyd Bronson, escaped from a reform school up in Idaho last week. Oh, no. Yeah, that's our boy, Angel. Oh, what are you going to tell Wanda? The truth? She'll just have to get over it. Well, George, at least it explains the way Floyd's been acting. He was just trying to hide who he is. Uh-uh, think again. Which would you rather have happen, be caught and sent back to reform school or let yourself be thrown in jail for murder? No, Brooksie, there's something else we... Hey, come on. What the... Hey, Evans, Evans, what's happened? Oh, brother, I don't know. Somebody said the kid broke up. What? A patrol car came to pick him up, but they found the cabin open and the guard knocked off. Sure, listen to that. He must have headed up through the woods. Come on. No, no, well, mate, you go ahead. MUSIC Brooksie, if he's running up there, there's nothing we can do. But if Floyd's really got a bad ankle, then he'd more likely head down the other way, wouldn't he, and make a getaway? What do you mean, George? I mean, I ought to have my head examined. I left the keys in my car back in the highway. So long, angel. MUSIC MUSIC MUSIC MUSIC MUSIC Get away from me, Mr. Valentine. Look out. Oh, no, you don't. Move over, will you? No, no, I said move over. I'm driving this buggy. MUSIC I wasn't going to steal your car. No, no, just borrow it. Say, whose car is that? That sedan. How should I know? Well, what are you doing? I just wanted time to tell you how crazy you are, Buster. Out of the frying pan, into the fire. Run, run, run. That's all you think of. OK, well, for my money, you're guilty. But I'm not. I didn't kill anybody. Yeah, you said that. Now, come on, describe the inside of that fur truck for me again. Come on, come on, the back end of the truck. Oh, well, well, it was pretty dark and I was sleepy, but well, there was a big box that had silver flocks on it and I laid down next to a big bolted crate that chinchilla, the bolts kept banging me. You're going to stick with that hogwash? Hogwash? But it's true. It's what happened. Why did you slug that guard? Listen, they're coming after us. I said why did you slug that guard just now to get away? What guard? Oh, cut it out. The guy that was standing there. But he wasn't there. I mean, I didn't see him. I just found the door was open. I knew I had to get away before they put me in jail where I could. I closed my eyes. It's all malarkey. You're not slugging the guard. But I didn't. You're going to stick with that stuff? Mr. Valentine. With all of it? Are you? Would you like to start shooting? Faster, faster. Now, you listen to me. Are you going to stand on your feet for once, look a cop in the eye and say that stuff and make him believe it because you believe it? Mr. Valentine, I'm a little guy. I'm all alone. There's nobody that I can... Look out! They're right behind you. What are you doing? Just take it easy, kid. We're not going to be hurt. But, yeah, that's right. I said we. Because I'm right here with you, Floyd. And I believe you. Everything you've said. Valentine, what in the name of blue blazes? I'm obstructing justice here. I know. But now, wait a minute, McGee. You just heard the boy here describe the inside of the truck, didn't you? I'll say this, McGee. It was quite an accurate description. Thanks, Justin. And how could he have known what it looked like unless the driver did let him in there? He wouldn't have known how to work the lock on the outside. And if Floyd was riding it back, how could he have got up front again to attack the driver? Well, I know we haven't got all the answers yet. But in the meantime, I can hold him for his breakaway, slugging the guard. McGee, McGee, the kid says he didn't do it. Oh, now Lord... The thing that's been bothering me and probably you too is that there's no other handy extra. Well, maybe I can come up with one. Don't count on it. You see, I think instead of it all being true, it's all false. Like the boy riding in back. We've turned up a witness who passed the truck on the road and who swears there were two people in front. Oh, great. But look at the kid can describe what was in back. Back, front, back, front, will you? Okay, okay. But McGee, just suppose there's somebody who's scared to death of Floyd. And he's scared to death of the driver. Well, I suppose there's somebody who's scared to death of Floyd. Because, well, by sheer accident, Floyd was along in a sleep when a crime was committed. What do you mean? And there are things in Floyd's memory like he recognized somebody's sedan over here. Well, I remember he was driven off the highway by a sedan. That's when he hurt his ankle. Now suppose it was a sedan that shouldn't have been seen in that neck of the woods last night. Go on, Valentine. The guard comes next, doesn't he? Yeah. Yeah, if there was someone who was terrified of Floyd's possible evidence, and at the same time knew the kid was a perfect fall guy, wouldn't it be logical to set up a chance for Floyd to escape? The crazy kid would be bound to keep running until he'd be stopped someplace by a bullet. And then there'd never be any question of an alternate explanation. No more dangerous investigation. Well, there are lots of holes in a story like that. I'm afraid so, Mr. Valentine. And if my theory is right, Mr. Cheston, then even the business of front and back fits into place. The kid said he was asleep and back and heard voices. Okay, McGee, you got a witness says there was somebody up front. Well, yes, it's true that checks, but... Only how could there be another hitchhiker in the cab when the driver was so conscientious about no riders? No, I'm sure he wouldn't have picked that up. There's only one person in the world I can figure would benefit by a carload of valuable furs being burned to a crisp, a person who would naturally have to kill the conscientious driver to manage it. Wait a minute. Are you trying to... I'm the only person that a driver who lived by the rules could pick up on the highway. The guy who owned the furs, the guy who wrote the rules, Mr. Cheston, you. MUSIC Insurance, Mr. Valentine. I don't understand. Sure want insurance on the furs. Why, there was even chinchilla in that load. Maybe some of them weren't even the real thing to begin with. And the insurance company would never know. Cheston would just hold out his hand to get a nice fat check, which apparently he needed to keep his company going. And it was Mr. Cheston who met the truck out there on 41. Sure. Probably pretended he had a flat tire or something. Only poor Tommy Tucker. It's all going to be made to look like an accident, wasn't it? That's right, and it would have, if it hadn't been for your stumbling Romeo wandering into it. The police found enough evidence to make Cheston confess. Oh, give me a nickel, will you, Angel? Hmm. Here. It has some music, Wanda, because this is where we came in. See you later. MUSIC George? What on earth... Excuse me. Hello. Mr. McGee said I could come in for a few minutes and... Well, anyway... Before you go back to school, huh? Well, um... Mudface is in there for him. Huh? Oh, she's a nice enough kid, I guess. Not very attractive, but... Well, maybe if you get a chance to travel around again, you'll meet somebody. Now, wait a minute. Who said she's not attractive? What do you mean, Mudface? Look, Mr. Valentine, I've stood in love with a lot of criticism for you, but when it comes to Wanda... Hey, hey, cool off. Go on, kid, get in there. MUSIC George. I wonder if he'll ever really grow up, straighten himself out. Brooksie, I think he's already started. MUSIC You can easily keep the outside of your car from rusting, but how are you going to protect internal engine parts when rust is responsible for 80% of the wear? That's the rust caused by acid-laden moisture. This moisture settles on cylinder walls and other vital parts the moment you turn off the ignition. The one sure way to prevent it is to use RPM motor oil, for RPM is compounded to keep a moisture-proof film on all parts at all times. Even though your car stood idle for days or weeks, that acid-laden moisture could not reach internal parts, not with RPM on the job. No wonder this motor oil is fresh choice in the West. It's the oil that stops 80% of engine wear. Rely on RPM to add years to the life of your car and to keep repair bills at a minimum. Ask for it at independent Chevron gas stations and at standard stations where they say, and mean, we take better care of your car. 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. Robert Bailey is starred as George with Francis Robinson as Brooksy. Let George Do It is written by David Victor and Jackson Gillis and directed by Don Clark. Also heard in the cast were Virginia Isler as Wanda, Bill Conrad as Evans, Walter Burke as Floyd, Ted D'Corsia as Justin, and Joe DeVall as McGee. This music is composed and presented 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 Dom Lee Broadcasting System.
