Personal notice, danger is my stock in trade. If the job's too tough for you to handle, you've got a job for me, George Valentine. Write full details. Yes, it's Let George Do It, brought to you by P.R.E.A.M., the new miracle way to cream your coffee. We'll begin tonight's transcribed adventure of George Valentine in a moment, but first. Oh, the new way to cream it is to purr even gets preem. That's preem. With a capital P. Overall, other products for creaming your coffee, you'll prefer preem in instant powdered form. P-R-E-A-M. Here's why. First, preem has a rich, delicious flavor because it's made entirely from fresh sweet cream and other milk products. Yet when you use preem in your coffee, every cup contains only about half as many calories as if you used coffee cream. And then preem is wonderfully convenient. It never sours, never turns. Keeps indefinitely while sealed. Open for everyday use, preem stays fresh tasting to the last spoonful on your kitchen shelf or in your refrigerator. And last but not least, this new dairy miracle actually saves you more than one-third the cost of coffee cream. Tomorrow start serving preem whenever you serve coffee. P-R-E-A-M. The new way to cream it is to preem it. Purr even gets preem. With a capital P. And now, tonight's adventure of George Valentine, the ghost of Ireland Betty. Dear Mr. Valentine. Valentine. Dear Mr. Valentine, I live in an enormous, rambling house built like an Italian villa. Oh that's funny, what else did she write? What was the rest of it? Crying. It's crying, that's what it is. It's crying. I know it is, it's crying. That's what... Where is it? It's crying, I know it's crying. I know it! Christine! For heaven's sakes! Where are you going in such a hurry? Daddy, I'm sorry, but I just... Listen, listen... Yes, my dear? Christine, you've had such a long trip. I thought you were going to lie down and rest awhile. Did you hear something, my dear? No. No, I didn't hear anything. Mr. Valentine, who is he? Why were you writing him a letter, Miss Dowdy, about the house? Here, it's a letter you didn't finish. Oh, that! But I did finish another one. That one blotted. Yes, I've already written Mr. Valentine. He's... he's just a friend of mine. Oh. It's lonely here, and I thought perhaps he might like to call on me. Now you run along and get your rest. There's nothing to be afraid of in the old place. You may hear a shutter banging once in a while, but... but... That's all. That's absolutely all. All right, Miss Dowdy. Sorry, my imagination seems to... I'm sorry I bothered you. Miss Dowdy, I got the letter you wrote to me, all right, but... Please, please don't talk so loud, Mr. Valentine. In here, Miss Brooke. Of course. Oh, what a lovely old room. Christine is asleep. I don't want to disturb her. That's Christine O'Casey? Yes. She just got here, you know, from Canada. She's been there since before her aunt's death several months ago. Won't you sit down? Thanks, Miss Dowdy, but I'm not sure we're staying. Oh, but I wrote you that... Yes, you wrote in your letter that you wanted a man investigated, Professor E.L. Gifford from Denver. Yes, that's right, Professor Gifford. You sounded as though you wanted us to, um, well, get something on him. Oh, now you must understand that... And yet, as I gather, all you suspect about this Professor Gifford is that he's liable to buy this house. Yes, yes, that's just it. You see, Mr. Eustace, the Reader State man, has received this offer from Denver. Yes, I know. I've already talked to Mr. Eustace. And I find he's also the executor of the estate for one Miss Betty O'Casey, who used to own the house. Yes, for Betty, the one who died. That's Christine's aunt. And I find you don't even have anything to do with the sale of this house, Miss Dowdy. You don't even own it, any part of it. No, no, I don't. But I was Betty O'Casey's companion for more than 20 years, Mr. Valentine. Sure, I understand. She left you pretty well taken care of, right? Only the house went to the principal beneficiary, Christine, her relative. And it's Christine's desire to sell, according to Mr. Eustace. That's why she's here, to speed up a sale, any sale. Mm-hmm. Okay, but, Miss Dowdy, what do you have against this Professor? Why shouldn't he buy the house? Why should you want to hire me to interfere with any possible sale? The Professor, he's not the right type. Not the right type? Yes. Well, if the house is Christine's, what does she say? Haven't you talked to her about it? Christine isn't... well, she's not sympathetic to the house. What? She's not sympathetic. She doesn't understand. She's young and cynical. And this isn't just a usual house, Mr. Valentine. Well, I grant you it's pretty old, valuable maybe, but not so easy to get rid of. We looked all over for this house years ago. It was just what Ireland Betty wanted. Oh, it made her so happy. Oh, wait a minute. Who? Betty O'Casey. Ireland Betty. Oh, I know. It does make her sound rather like an apple woman, but it was a nickname. Many people called her that. Ireland Betty. Excuse me, but it sounds more to me like the name of a racehorse. Oh, she would have loved to hear you say that. She owned some horses once. She was so enthusiastic, so interested in... in everything. And she was no more recently Irish than I am. But she called herself second cousin to a leprechaun. Sounds like quite a woman. A pixie, Miss Brooks, not a woman. Not at all like her niece, the little modern realist, the unbeliever. Unbeliever in what, Miss Dowdy? Leprechaun? Well, unbeliever in this house for one thing. You'll have to be more specific. What is there about this place, Miss Dowdy, that you don't want it sold? Because that is the idea, isn't it? You don't want anyone else living here. Why? Mr. Valentine, Ireland Betty and I became great believers in... Well, she looked all over to find this house. Because this house was supposed to have... I'm sorry, Mr. Valentine, that I've troubled you. You're too young yourself. And a good deal more honest than I thought you would be. What? Now, wait a minute. Oh, excuse me. I'm sorry. Wait a minute. How on earth did you get in here? With a key, naturally. Greetings, my dear Miss Dowdy. You haven't changed a bit. Where did you get her? Let go of my hand. Oh, this, it won't bite you. Tape measures to see if there's space for a piano in the parlor. Besides my recording instrument. Excuse me, Miss Dowdy, but is this... is this the guy? The guy? Professor Gifford. Yes, Mr. Valentine. Miss Brooks. How do you do? Mr. Valentine was just leaving. No. What? No, I wasn't going anywhere. I was just going to say I'd like to stick around for a while. Oh, Mr. Valentine. But of course, you can help me hold one end of the tape measure, Mr. Valentine. Come along. I am sorry I intruded, Miss Dowdy, but I was to meet Eustace here. She gave me the key. Oh, Eustace. Miss Eustace. She'll come along with Mr. Valentine. Right. Just us and an almost empty piece of real estate, Professor Gifford. What's your business, Professor? My own happiness, Mr. Valentine. What's yours? What I meant was, what are you a professor of? Nothing. Huh? The thought of nothing that is something. The thought of something that is nothing until it is seen or heard by man. Until man, like myself, is willing to admit that he sees what he can't understand. What no one understands. Ah, huh? That makes as much sense as a scramble jigsaw puzzle. Oh, it's quite simple. I'm a student of psychic research. Supernatural being. Oh, brother, no, not psychic. Only fools laugh, Mr. Valentine. Okay. I'm not laughing. You believe in ghosts, huh? So does Ms. Dowdy. So did I and Betty. Blessed soul. So does this house. Yes, most of all this house. So that's why you're buying it. Place is infested with ghosts, eh? Stop it. Not every house has a ghost, you know, any more than it has good plumbing. But that's why Betty bought it originally. Been a ghost reported often on the past hundred years. Shall we rejoin the ladies? Yeah, yeah, I'm getting scared. I almost had this house once before, Valentine. I'll bet he rather had her cat set for me. She did not. Yes, I would have had it for nothing then, if it hadn't been for her bodyguard here. Would you throw him out of here or do I have to? No sense of you, Ms. Dowdy. All right, mister. Because it's true. I'll and Betty pursued me like the beautiful banshee that she was. She came galloping at me like... Yeah, I said never mind. Mr. Valentine. And as for you, Ms. Dowdy. No, no, please be quiet. Listen. Huh? But, Mr. Daly, what... George. Shh. Don't move anyone. That's what it sounds like. I never knew. We always wanted... Curse me. Yes. That's what it is. I've never heard it before. Oh, come on, cut it out, both of you. Sure, sure, it's crying all right, but that's not any goat. Ms. Dowdy, where are you? Mr. Yusuf, that's his voice. Get down here, somebody, will you? Come help me. It's Christine. My knee, my forehead. Oh, no, no, no, you're all right now, Christine. I found her just lying there on the stone outside her aunt's window. There in the sunken garden, Mr. Yusuf? Yes, that's right. Whimpering, almost unconscious. She'd had a terrible fall. I was coming up by the side entrance, you see, and there I... What makes you think she just had a fall? Christine, what happened? Can you tell me? Did you fall? No, no, I didn't. What is it, Tim? What was it? I don't know what happened, Ms. Dowdy. Oh, now look here. George, he's just woozing. Let her rest. Did you see the ghost, Christine? Oh, Professor, for the love of my... No, no, I didn't. I didn't, I tell you, there's no such thing as ghosts. It's all your imagination. I saw the ghost once myself the night your aunt died. Perhaps even she saw it over the lawn by the summer house. What? What are you talking about? Who saw what when? I wasn't here, you never told me. The ghost. Nothing to upset yourself over, and I'm sure Ms. Dowdy, unless she cares to lie, will admit that she too saw the... What if I did? What if I did see it? It doesn't have anything to do with this. It doesn't, it doesn't. Ms. Dowdy. All right, you're down like knives, aren't you? And all knocked down by a ghost. All right, now come on, come on, somebody and tell... I think she just noticed where you were found, Christine. What? The stone floor outside your aunt's window, Christine. Exactly where you were. That's where your aunt fell, where she died. The night that we saw the ghost. Coincidence, I suppose. That's all. Sure as you enjoy good coffee, you'll enjoy coffee creamed with cream, P-R-E-A-M. 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Send for your free copy of the new Cream Recipe Collection right away. And now, back to George Valentine. Miss Brooks, you're here? Miss Brooks, where are you? Where did you go? I have to see you. Here I am. I just went back to the kitchen to get some ice. What's the matter? Be quiet. Look, Ronnie, listen. There's my imagination at work. Oh, here, now lie down again. Put this on your forehead. My forehead's all right. The doctor said he'd be out later to take a look at you. Yeah, yeah, sure, sure. You've been pretty sick up in Canada, haven't you? Yes, and I'm tired and I'm... My aunt had asthma, you know. Did she? But that wasn't what she died of, was it? Well, sort of. That's what the doctor wrote me. I wasn't here, you know. We'd been having a fight and she had guests for the weekend, so I just got in my car and drove off. See that window there? Mm-hmm. French doors. There's no guardrail outside it. And he thought she must have opened the doors, trying to get more air. She was having one of her attacks and... Well, she fell to the stone below. She was found in the next morning. Only now these people talk about a ghost. You don't suppose she opened the window and saw it out there herself? Stop it! Not you, too. How did you get hurt? Did you fall out of the window, too? No. I was out there and I tripped and fell. Really? That's all right. All right. Well, why don't you want to talk about it to the others? I hate it about this house that upsets you so. Everything about it in this book, I hate it. I've always hated it. My aunt and I used to fight about it. She was so wonderful. But what she'd take up with those fads, those crazy people, those crazy superstitions, that awful Professor Gifford that she went chasing after, trying to impress, all this talk about ectoplasm and manifestations and... You blame me? Christina, I don't believe in such things any more than you do. But I would blame you if you kept too much to yourself, if you attributed certain things to your own imagination just because you've been sick and then tired and upset. What do you mean? I mean what you heard when I was still in the kitchen. I mean why you've come back here and what you may have seen and what you suspect about these people, about your aunt's death. I don't really know. Is Mr. Valentine going to stay here? Yes, Christine. Where is he now? He'll be close. He'll be right here, won't he? Yes, of course. He's just chatting with Miss Dowdy. She's probably showing him around the place. Now, Mr. Yuster, suppose you tell me the truth about what you saw that night. Well, I... Well, my room was third story. I'd been reading in bed. There'd been a good deal of talk at dinner about the ghost, it being the proper time of year for appearance and all. Naturally, I tried to be tolerant, but... Well, perhaps I did watch a little. You see, it's supposed to appear just momentarily out back by the summer house, moving slowly and then sort of floating away. And did it? Well, for heaven's sake, it didn't actually... I didn't hear anything, and certainly whatever it was had no substance, nobody. Naturally, the next morning I didn't say anything. Why should I? In effect of all the talk, a trick of the imagination. Of course, you'd have been laughed at. You don't believe in ghosts. Well, I do, Mr. Yuster. What? I believe in the kind of ghost that can be tricked up by a human being, and maybe it's being tricked up again. George, I sneaked out one of Christine's shoes. See, the heel here is torn off. Yeah, now that's where she fell. Stonefall or the sunken garden beneath the overhang there. Dark. George, then. Loose shutter that's out. Stone steps here have mud on the side. Roses have been watered. And mud on Christine's shoes. But if she came down there, she would have been on the path. Hold it, hold it. Yeah, here we are. I could feel the footprint where she stepped off the path by the top of the steps. The heel went to the one all right. Yeah. And that must have been how she tripped herself down that... Shh. Yeah, they can't hear us, Angel, but they will if we go back, so... Well, it's a lovely place, all right. They'll run down, maybe, but if the gardens out here were fixed up, I'm sure they... Brooksie, Brooksie, look out! Oh, the shutter. I went with the shutter, I almost... Sure, sure, that's what it was we heard. I'm all right, George. You go on. Get up there and find out who... Shh, quiet. But George, from above it's so dark. I look just like Christine. That must have been... I'd never find anybody up there. There's nobody in this house but ghosts, didn't you know? Well, Angel, we're gonna catch one before the ghost succeeds at murder. Oh, yes, Mr. Valentine, I guess that's where I lost my heel, where I tripped only... Yeah, you were coming along the path, Christine. You stepped off it, tripped, and rolled down the stone steps. Yes. You were out here walking with a summer house, but you didn't want anybody to know. Let's see, it was Eustace who found you. What happened? You see him coming and run for the house? Yes, that's right, I ran. Only why did you step off the path? Well, there was a shovel or a rake or something lying across the path. Oh, I get it. Only it's not there now. I didn't look. Mr. Valentine, I did suspect something for a long time. But I didn't know what I was looking for or why... Or whether you could find anything back here that would show you how the ghost worked that night your aunt died. That's what I mean. The whimpering, crying ghost, the thing with no substance that's supposed to appear and then float away. Aunt Betty told me where she expected to see it. Mr. Valentine! Well, listen to that, rising to the bait already. Mr. Valentine, where have you gone? Here, here, here, right in front of you, Miss Downey. Oh, I got to see you alone, I've got to. Anything you have to say, you can say right in front of her only. Say it fast. It's about the ghost. Oh, it was only to impress and give fate? You've got to realize that. It wasn't to scare anybody, if that's what you're trying to say. I'm smart enough to figure that Ireland Betty didn't fall from her window out of fright on seeing the ghost. She wasn't the type. So if it was you who played the ghost that night, lady... No, no, that's not what I'm trying to say. It was Ireland Betty. It was she herself who did it. What? Yes, she did. Oh, I know it sounds crazy, but she had to. She'd never been able to locate the ghost in the house. And she had bragged. And she didn't want Professor Gifford to be disappointed. That's why I didn't want him to get the house. He might have found out. Hey, now, slow down. All you're claiming is there isn't any ghost, is that it? There never has been one in this house. Only why, then? Mr. Valentine, listen to me. If Betty was out here instead of in her room, and you think she was murdered... Of course, I know. She died before she ever got back to her room. And she was probably running just like Christine here was. Yes. Yes, only if that's the case, then... It's okay. It's okay. I'll take care of everything. Mr. Valentine. Come on, Christine. Let's head back to the house. See you later, Miss Dowdy. Well, the whole thing's pretty simple, I guess, isn't it? I don't understand at all any of it. Don't you? You understand a good deal about the ghost. But Aunt Betty told me to. Sure. I was supposed to look. But nobody says they've ever heard it, except you. The whimpering, the crying. Christine, were you here in the garden that night with your aunt? Is that the one you thought you heard the crying? No. No, I've really heard it. Someone else... Were you hiding out here? Did you pretend to leave for Canada, and then come back and hide and scare her? Oh, sure, you don't believe in ghosts. You knew the little old pixie'd be playing the part. So she was scared and ran, just like you did, down the path. Mr. Valentine, stop it. You don't understand. What's the matter? You afraid to walk down this path? Afraid you'll trip on something again? A rake that you might see when you're running, only it's so dark you can't even see your hand in front of your face? No, it wasn't a rake. I don't know what it was. I know what it was, young lady. It wasn't anything. Yes, it was. You're mixing me up. I... I know there was. Christine, I said some crimes are simple. They are after they've happened. Because a guilty conscience does terrible, horrible things, like stumbling over something that isn't even there, except a memory. Well, what was there when you made your old aunt fall? A rake? A string? A wire? No. No, I didn't do it. I didn't... Then come on. Walk. Perfect accident. Ha! Not so perfect a few months after, is it? When you get so scared, you get sick, so guilty you even try to kill someone else, nervous little old Miss Dowdy because she's begun to be suspicious. I didn't... I didn't push that shutter. Sure, go on. Say it. Fill me in. I know it was you, all right, sister. You were the only one who thought Miss Dowdy was out walking with me. Nobody would have tried to kill Brooksie, but just by accident, Brooksie had told you that Dowdy and I were walking together. Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Listen. Did they hear? I never believed it. They all did, but I never believed it. Crying. What? I don't hear anything. Yes. Yes, you can. Whimpering, a woman crying. If it's not a real person, one of those others, it has to be the ghost. The ghost of the house. The ghost of the house. The ghost of the house. Whimpering. Here it is. There. Yeah. Yeah, you do hear something, don't you, Christine? You're the only one who does. The unbeliever. And yet the only one who's heard anything all evening. Or ever. But hasn't it occurred to you there never was a ghost in this house until you made one. The ghost of Ireland Betty. Whimpering. No. No. Music. Music. Music. Music. Music. Music. You know, there's something about crisp, tangy autumn weather that makes coffee time more enjoyable than ever. And what better time than now to discover Pream. P-R-E-A-M. The delicious new way to cream coffee. In instant powdered form, Pream is made from fresh sweet cream milk products and nothing else. Naturally, it has a rich, delicious flavor. What's more, Pream is so convenient, so economical, you'll prefer it to all other products for creaming your coffee. You see, Pream never sours, never turns. Sealed, Pream keeps indefinitely. Open for regular use, Pream stays fresh tasting to the last spoonful on your kitchen shelf or in your refrigerator. Budget-wise, Pream saves more than one-third the cost of coffee cream. And then something every calorie counter should know. When you use Pream in your coffee, every cup contains only about half as many calories as if you used coffee cream. So try Pream in your coffee. P-R-E-A-M. The new way to cream it is to Pream it. Well, Brooksie, that's what's known as getting a confession the hard way. Oh, the poor girl's an absolute wreck. Poor girl. She killed her aunt, didn't she? Ireland Betty, second cousin to a leprechaun. There's the one I'd like to have known. Yeah, the Irish. Believe in anything. Oh, Brooksie, there is one little item. You know, when I told you to go back in the house there, when I asked you to make some noises to help me get the story out of the girl? Well, I didn't make any noises. Huh? Well, I mean, first there was the police on the phone, and then Mr. Eustace kept following me around. I mean, you didn't think I did, did you? You didn't hear anything, did you? Wimpering or crying? No, Angel. No, of course not. I didn't hear anything. It was just in the girl's imagination, that's all. Ahem. Music Tonight's adventure of George Valentine has been brought to you transcribed by Pream, the new dairy miracle in instant powdered form. Try it. You'll prefer it to all other products for creaming your coffee. For Pream is the most delicious, convenient, thrifty way to cream your coffee ever discovered. Yes, the new way to cream it is to Pream it. Let George Do It stars Olin Soule as George, and tonight Lillian Byeth appeared as Brooksie. Let George Do It is written by David Victor and Jackson Gillis and directed by J.C. Lewis. Also heard in tonight's cast were Gene Bates as Christine, Florence Ravenal as Doughty, Benny Rubin as Gifford, and Howard Culver as Eustace. The music was composed and presented by George Wright. Tonight's performance concludes this current series. We hope you have enjoyed it. Your announcer has been George Crowell. Music Music Music
