Woodbury Facial Soap, the beauty soap for the skin you love to touch. You're lovely, never, never change. Keep that breathless charm. Won't you please arrange it? Cause you're lovely, just the way you look tonight. Woodbury, the makers of Woodbury Facial Soap, the beauty soap made for the skin alone. Present, the adventures of Mr. and Mrs. North. The Norths woke up one morning and discovered it was February. Pam said, Jerry, let's go to the dogs. By all means, Jerry replied, where's the champagne? But that wasn't what Pam meant. She meant the dog show at the Uptown Garden. And after Jerry had said something about in leap year, woman proposes while man opposes. After Pam had thrown a pillow at him, they got dressed and went to the dogs. Dogs. Aren't they adorable? I feel unnatural. On two legs, we're outnumbered. I guess this isn't a good hour for visiting. All the dogs don't mind. Jerry, what read is that? Schnauzer. God bless you. What read? Schnauzer. God bless you. Jerry, you're catching cold. I'm not sneezing. That dog is a schnauzer. Oh, huge. Oh, look, Jerry, a great dame. Isn't he beautiful? Uh-huh. Let's move on, dear. Why? I think he thinks I'm a bone. You're not afraid, are you, dog? No, I just don't want to confuse him, make him neurotic. All right, scaredy cat. Oh, Jerry, look. That's a Yorkshire Terrier. I don't care. That dog's been to the movies. Saw Veronica Lake and copied her hairdo, huh? I'm positive. The only thing is, this dog's overdoing it. It's got a peek-a-boo contraption in front of both eyes. Darling, the Yorkshire Terrier's long, silky hair was developed along the upland moors. Protects it from the rain and wind. Don't show off, dear. You've read a book. Oh, this one's cute. That French poodle, he looks as if a landscape gardener had worked him over. Oh, he's very distinguished looking. You see, he understands me. I've seen lawns better clipped than that. The tag here says he is champion Peter Cavalier. I knew it. Did you also know he belonged to, let's see, la Conteste de la Porte? Oh, I can just see myself now walking down Madison Avenue with Peter on the leash. Uh-huh. And I would bow to you and kiss your hand. Jerry, you silly. And I would say, Conteste, you have the most beautiful dog I have ever seen. Oh, please. There is nothing in the world I would love more than to pat your dog sometimes, Conteste. Please. And not another word, Conteste. But Jerry, there's somebody breathing down the back of my neck. Huh? That's right. Hey, you, stop breathing down the back of her neck. I'm doing it only in the line of duty, pal. Jerry, there's somebody right behind you, too. No, friend, don't turn around. Introductions later. Hey, what is this? This is a snatch. You are acquainted with the team, Conteste? Conteste? Me? Jerry! Keep your voice low, little lady. Otherwise, Sam, who ain't poking you in the ribs with no clothespin, will have to shoot you. Oh, is that right, Sam? The doot knows the wards, Conteste. Conteste? But I'm not a... Let us leave the dogs. Come on. Jerry... Look, there's been some mistake here. One little funny move and you'll be making a mistake. Walk nice and quiet out the front door, both of you. That's right. Otherwise comes the heist and they'll be carrying you out nice and quiet. Anyway, it's a nice car. Thank you, Conteste. But I am not a Countess. Did we or did we not hear that gent sitting next to you call you Conteste? You did, but Jerry was only joking. Some joke. She's my wife. You the Count? Of course not. Then the little lady ain't your wife. Oh, wait a minute. Duke, if you... Yeah? Are you really a Duke? No, sort of a nickname. All right. That's the way it is with that. Sure. Only she's got a couple of million iron men in the bank. I ain't. My estate was impoverished. The Duke knows the words. I'm supposed to be French if I'm the Countess, but I'm not. How do we know? Well, you can hear me talk, can't you? I speak English, don't I? Just like you. You speak like us? Duke, she sounds like a foreigner to me, she does. If she's the Countess, what am I supposed to be? There is a word for it. The Duke knows the... Quiet, Sam. The word is gigolo. Gigolo? Me? Why you... Relax there, Tansen Pompster, I'll give you a revolver full. Jerry, please. Now, we are all men of the world here, ain't we? Except then, of course, the Countess. Thank you. A mere nut. As I was saying, the Countess is young, she is beautiful. Why, Duke. She is a babe with plenty of bread pudding. The Count, on the other hand, is broke. He is on the shabby side, the gentility. So he collects stamps, while the Countess collects gigolos. You are one of them, a very fine specimen. My congratulations, Countess. I am not a gigolo. Listen, mister, don't get so excited. It's good work if you can get it. Hey, boss, boss, we're leaving town, we gotta decide. Yeah, thanks for reminding me. What do you have to decide? Well, you see, Countess Original, we didn't figure on snatching more than one. You. Circumstances made us grab off the boyfriend too. The question is, what do we do with him? You'll just have to take him along with me. Hey, Duke, I think we ought to chill him. I don't know. He looks like a nice guy. Yeah, but Duke, we gotta feed the kidnapped victim. We just ain't got enough of brown stamps for two of them. You got something there. All right, we chill him. Oh, but you don't have to do that. Brown stamps are for meat and Jerry's a vegetarian. Oh, what do you say, Sam? Well, in case he wants to eat grass, let him live. Yeah, what I was thinking. Besides, it'll kind of keep the little lady's mind occupied. In a kind of way, you could call it almost a second honeymoon. Good grief, where are we going, Niagara Falls? The Old Homestead Ah, the Old Homestead. Here we are. Yeah, ain't it beautiful? If you took our blindfolds off, maybe we could appreciate it too. We learned to love it. We couldn't have you see where we was taking you. Why not? Maybe you wouldn't have liked the place. Then we would have had to shoot you. Can we take them off now? Go ahead, keep them covered, Sam. Like a tent, Duke. There, that's better. Oh, golly, it's dark. Who put the lights out? Lady, we are in the country where the only lights is the stars. That Duke. I prefer lamp posts. Is that landslide in old Stucco, the homestead? Lady, maybe the joint looks like a wreck. But I'll tell you, it not only looks like a wreck... Yeah, it is a wreck. Custer must have made his last stand around here. If you don't like the accommodations, Sam will be glad to donate a little lead to you. Never mind, he needs it more than I do. I mean, shall we go in? Proceed. Wait a minute, goon. The countess goes first. Why? Noblesse oblige. Huh? Why? That freely translated means oblige the nobles. Countess, you first. Thank you very, very much. You know, Duke, that noblesse oblige stuff ain't so bad. No? No, not when a babe like the countess leads the parade. That was a nice dinner. Yeah, it sure... No, you don't, Jigaloo. Oh, don't you hit Jerry's wrist with that gun. Well, I warn him not to reach for no meat. Sorry, I forgot myself. Hey, I thought you was a vegetarian. I am. No. Well, no meat. Okay. Pass me another head of lettuce. Thanks. Now, countess, the time has come when business has got to be discussed. We got to get sorted. You can do that with practically no effort. Thank you, countess. Now, we know the count ain't got no dough. You got it. So we bring along a check. You sign the check, we force the count to cash it, and then he bails you out. What could be simpler? You could just let us go. Countess, the time for idle banter has passed. But she isn't the countess. Duke, I told you we should have chilled him even if he ain't no meat eater. Jerry's right. I can't sign that check. Maybe your hand is numb? Well, no. You sign this check for 50 grand or you and the boyfriend will both get numb all over and permanent. Well, I... Jerry, you think he means it? He means it. All right, give it to me. I'll sign it. Oh, I see you've got a whole checkbook. Yeah, we're careful. We don't want no typographical errors. Sign it, baby. Countess, if you please. Pen. Take mine. It's got a lifetime guarantee. Thank you. There. Let me see. But countess, you signed this Pamela North. That ain't going to get us 50 grand. It's my name. It'll be a name on a tombstone. First thing you know. Sign that check, Isabelle de la Porte, or the lifetime guarantee or you runs out. If you insist. I insist. I thought you would. I hope you like my handwriting. Let me see. Countess, I got $50,000 worth of lichen for it. Sam, take them upstairs and lock them up. I'm going back to contact the count, inform them about the snatch, and tomorrow morning we begin to live on our income. Good night, countess. No bless oblige. No bless oblige to you too, Duke. That's right, countess. No bless oblige. So please go upstairs peaceful and oblige. Or no more no bless. Closed in? Locked in. The window, Jerry? Not a chance. One of Duke's ancestors must have been a little peculiar. What do you mean? Oh, iron bars on the window. Oh, and dear Sam at the door, I think we'll stay. Oh, darling, we are in a jam, aren't we? Well, there's a bed in the room. We can sleep anyway. Jerry, what are we going to do? Oh, I wouldn't worry about that signature. They won't give you more than 10 years or so for forgery. And I'll be waiting for you at the prison gate. That isn't what I meant, darling. Oh. When they find out and they'll have to as soon as they try to cash that check that I'm not really the countess. They'll kiss us goodbye. Oh, no, Jerry, not when we could be witnesses against them. I'm afraid, darling. Well, maybe in the morning when... Somehow, Jerry, I could wish that morning were a long way off. We'll be back with Woodbury's Mr. and Mrs. North in just a moment. Now, this is Ben Growert changing the subject to Woodbury facial soap and romance, to wedding bells, white satin and lace, and to another Woodbury Deb who's just said, I do. She's lovely Martha Janie Baker of Toledo, and the lucky man is Private Charles L. Willoughby of Flint, Michigan. Janie writes... Woodbury facial soap is practically a tradition with the women in our family. So naturally, when Chuck saw Janie, it was a case of love at first sight. For nothing attracts a man's attention faster and holds it longer than a flawlessly lovely complexion. And now that Janie is Mrs. Charles L. Willoughby, a charming Air Force bride, she writes... Woodbury soap really does things for a girl's skin, romantic things. Let it do the same for you. Give your skin the gentle care of the beauty soap that's made for the skin and skin alone, the soap that contains only the finest, purest beauty oils and a special costly ingredient for extra mildness. Yes, Woodbury facial soap is safe even for over-dry skin. Use Woodbury facial soap tonight and then see even in the morning if your skin isn't brighter, smoother, softer to touch. See if he doesn't soon tell you so. Ask for Woodbury facial soap and follow the marrying Woodbury devs to romance. Now back to the Woodbury facial soap program, the adventures of Mr. and Mrs. North. Music Snoring Oh, Pam. Yes, darling? Turn that rooster off. You turn it off, it's on your side. Hmm? What did you say? I said turn the... Uh-oh, somebody swiped our furniture. Not to mention the house. Darling, we're staying with the Duke. That's right. And I'm the Countess. I'm the King of England, but... What? I remember. It's morning, Jerry. The Duke should be back from town any moment. Knowing that I'm not really the Countess. That's his mistake, not ours. We told him. That isn't going to help much. Convenient going to bed in your clothes, you don't have to dress. Pam, come here. What is it, darling? This window looks out over the road. It's the Duke, Jerry. With a distinguished looking man. Uh-huh, the Duke is showing him in. They came in that roadster. It's a foreign make. Jerry, that man's the Count. They snatched him too. Looks that way. But I don't know. Well, good morning, Countess. Morning, slippery feet. As Sam tell me, does that revolver grow from your hand? Well, it's a nice thought. Come on down, the Duke's got company. We, uh, I don't really feel like entertaining just now. We'll just stay here. Nothing doing, you'll go down. After all, it's about time the Countess met the Count. Right through that door, that's a good girl. Come on, you two, smooth hair. We'll find our way. Sam, somebody maybe followed me out here. Go on outside and keep a look out. Okay, Duke. Now, Count, is that the Countess or ain't it? My dear lady, may I apologize for this boor's stupidity. May I also assure you that if it weren't for the fact that already I am married, nothing would delight me more than to make you my Countess. That's very sweet of you. Then she ain't the Countess. When this ruffian here held me up and asked me to cash this check, I knew at once a mistake had been made. The signature is obviously not my wife's. All right, tear it up. With pleasure, sir. There, there. Take it easy, Count. I wouldn't like you to die too quick. You two, north, sit down. So we made a mistake. The lady resembles my wife somewhat, but that's all. I was never married to her, so I can't tell. Sam! Well, now that everything's been cleared up, we can all go home. I ain't so sure. We're liable for the rap even if we snatch the wrong thing. Well, what's up, Duke? She ain't the Countess. Are you sure the guy with the mustache is the Count? Yeah, him I seen before. Sleepy-fingered him for me. So we got three boys, huh? And none of them can sing. You might say three little bonds and no dividends. Yeah, well, what do we do now? Close the books? Look here. Sit down, rosin souls, or I'll do it now. Jerry. I suggest we talk this over calmly. After all, why kill us? No talk, no rap. On the other hand, come over here, Sam. You three are covered, so behave. Okay, Duke, what do you think? What do you think they're going to do? Hard to tell. I do not think they will kill us. You see, in a way, I am a goose. Hmm? I beg your pardon. Oh, well, I mean, if they kill me, they can never try to kidnap my wife again. I think they like the golden eggs, so they will do nothing. I hope you're right about their bird-loving habits. Gents and the lady, me and Sam have just been in conference. Speech! Speech! Order in the court! What am I saying? Shut up, punk! Permit me to continue. We loused up this snitch good, whose fault it was we ain't for the moment interested in. But the snitch was loused up. Here, here. So, on account of we invested our time and abilities, while you guys been in convenience a little, I figure we're even. Bravo! Thanks. Anyways, we're going to let you go. We're going to blindfold you, a mere necessity of business, drive you back in the count's heap, and let you go free when we hit the city. An equitable proposal. My words exactly. We ain't sore at you on account of the little lady ain't no countess, and you shouldn't ought to be sore at us on account of we're returning you to your loved ones safe and sound. To took nose the words. Like the poet says, let bygones be bygones. I thank you. Ah, it's pleasant to get these blindfolds off. Uh-huh. I dare say that's the last we'll ever see of Sam and the Duke fading down that suburban road in their own car. I'm just as pleased. But there's something that worries me. Count de la Porte. Madame? When the Duke showed you this check I signed, you knew it wasn't your wife's signature. Of course I knew. So you told the Duke that they must have kidnapped the wrong person. But there should have been another reason why you knew that. I do not understand. The countess. The countess? Sam means since the countess wasn't kidnapped, she should have been home with you last night. Oh, that. Well, you don't know the countess, my lovely wife, Mr. and Mrs. North. She's never home. Sometimes weeks pass and I don't hear of her. Still, the kidnappers knew that she was to be at the dog show. That means she is in town. That is a subject I do not care to discuss. Can I drop you at your home? No, I wish you'd do us a favor, Count. I'll take you to the street a few blocks more. I'll tell you where to stop. Of course. Er, some friends? No, Count. Some police. Pam, you and the count stay in the car. I'll be on the moment. Your husband is very athletic. He used to play football. Count, I'm worried about your wife. I gave that up years ago. For all we know, those gangsters may be after her this very minute. Oh, there's Jerry. He's got Sergeant Mullins with him. Well, what do you know about that? Kidnapped you, eh? They should have held onto you. I would have paid them myself regularly. Hello, Sergeant Mullins. This is Count de la Porte. What's your name? Count de la Porte. How do you define? How do you do? Be lucky. Well, what do you mean? Usually when the knots bring them in, they're dead. But Mullins, we've all been worrying about the whereabouts of the Countess. That's why I got you out here. Heck, I don't know where she is. But you see, I think I do. Try the rumble seat of this roadster, Mullins. Eh? Oh, he's mad. I don't like this. Any objections? If there ain't nothing there, why... You, you, you may do so. Why, thank you. Just take a minute. Jerry, you think she's... Shh! Okay, Mr. Knoth, I looked. And, of course, you found nothing. Not exactly, Count. Matter of fact, your wife is in that rumble seat. And she's dead. Jerry, as guilty as he can be, there's not one iota of doubt about the horse- Please, Mullins, please. I've got something to say. The guy killed his wife in his fright. I don't think he did. But, darling, it was his car. He would have been a fool to hide her there. Count, you've got one chance. What chance have I got? A full confession. I thought you said he didn't kill her. Mr. Knoth, I did not murder. No, but you still have a confession to make. You hired Duke and Sam to kidnap your wife. You agreed to split the ransom money with them, didn't you? 25,000 for you, 25,000 for them. Because you had no money, you had to go to your wife for money all the time, and so you thought you'd get some this way. Am I right? I say nothing. I can prove it. First, those gangsters didn't blindfold you when they brought you to the hideout this morning. That's right, darling. We saw him from the window. Which proves you were in on the kidnap plot. Secondly, and more important, those gangsters didn't try to cash the check Pam signed on your own unsupported word. Why should they believe you? When you said Pam was not the countess, they believed you again. Why? I deny everything. Better not. Otherwise, you'll go to the chair for murder. Instead of to jail for fraud. You've one chance, you better take it. All right, I confess, I confess to the plot, but I did not kill her. Of course not. Mullins, you've got to help. How? There's only one way we can get proof against the murderers. We've got to release the count. We've got to announce that he's been cleared of a murder, and Mullins, we mustn't say a single solitary word about his complicity in the kidnapping plot. We mustn't. Why? Because if we do, our trap won't catch a killer. Woodbury's Mr. and Mrs. North will be back in a minute, but first, this is Ben Growell for Woodbury, the true skin soap. Have you noticed how many lovely Woodbury debbs are middle-isling it these days? One of the loveliest is Martha Janie Baker of Toledo. Janie became Mrs. Charles L. Willoughby at a fashionable wedding at the Lombardy in New York. Now a brand new Air Force wife, she writes, To keep him saying those nice things about my complexion, I always take my daily Woodbury facial cocktail. How I look forward to it at the end of each busy day. It gives me a new lease on love. You can care for your complexion exactly the way glamorous Janie does, like this. First, she pins up her brown curls safely out of the way. Then she works up a thick, creamy lather of Woodbury soap on her face cloth. Now she buries her face in its warm fragrance. Massaging gently, she works it well up to her hairline, down over her throat and around to the back of her neck. Next, she rinses thoroughly with clear, warm water. Then with fresh, cold water, she gives a final bracing rinse. As she says, it gives her a new lease on love. Try it. Ask for Woodbury. W-O-O-D-B-U-R-Y. Woodbury. The beauty soap for the skin you love to touch. Now, back to the Woodbury facial soap program. The adventures of Mr. and Mrs. North. The New York police have been fully cleared of guilt in connection with the murder of his wife, the Countess Isabella de la Pont. That guy, oh, Sammy, knows too much. You're okay, dude. The wife of a very famous New York... That is very good news, Sam. Just like we figured, they can't pin the killing on the Count. So we play the parlay, huh? Gee, there's a good liquor the Count keeps. Ah, that must be the Count now. Insta the door, Sam, the butler is unconscious in the cellar. Soitly, me Lord. Oh, hello, Carlisle. I'm so sorry. Duke? Yeah, and that ain't Carlisle. It's me. A pleasant surprise, Count. Take your coat off. What do you want? The Count is a real man of business, ain't he, Sam? Okay, pal, listen. Now the Countess is dead, you inherit the door, right? I suppose so. We take half, or maybe two-thirds. You're crazy. Otherwise, we go tell the cops all about how you hired us to kidnap your wife. Then they will reconsider your being innocent about knocking her up. Because on account of if you're such a low character you would kidnap her, you must have killed her. But I did not. It would be a cinch to convince a jury. Oh, then you kill her yourself. Sure. Why try for 25 grand when we can make a million out of you? Sure. Sam dumped the body into the rumble seat when we was discussing life for the Norths. But if you had really kidnapped the Countess, why did you also kidnap the Norths? For witnesses tying you to the kidnap plot. Otherwise, who would believe us poor bums against your word? This way, you're tied to us. So you better prepare to share the wealth. The Duke knows the words. We know the music. Keep your hands up. We got him covered. Who brought the gem bombs? My husband. Isn't he cute? Oh, Duke, I told you he should have killed that guy. Besides, I bet he even eats meat. Oh, to get home. Little while, darling. Oh, the poor Countess. Poor Count? He's going to spend a long time in jail. It was very clever of you to figure out the double cross that Duke and Sam were playing. No gangster would ever make a mistake in identification as Duke and Sam pretended they had. Not when it was a $50,000 snatch they were planning. Well, they certainly swiped the wrong witnesses. Oh, you're so smart, darling. Cute, too. I wonder just how good a gigolo you would make if I were really a Countess. Well, you know what they get paid for, don't you? Mm-hmm. Dancing. Maybe, but I'll bet that isn't the word the Duke would have had for it. Friends, this is the most fateful year of the war. Across the Atlantic, the Second Front, the invasion starts now, any day. And for that decisive struggle, our armed forces will need more fighting equipment than ever before. To provide this essential equipment for victory, the fourth war loan is on. Our men in uniform are ready to give their lives. All you are asked to do is lend your money. You get back $4 for every three, and there's no safer investment. So buy all the bonds you can. Buy at least an extra $100 bond. Do without things you need. Use savings. Buy bonds. Let's all back the attack. Tune in again next week at the same time for another adventure of Mr. and Mrs. North, starring Alice Frost and Joseph Curtin. The thrills and laughs, be sure to listen, won't you? Music for Mr. and Mrs. North is conducted by Charles Paul. This is Ben Growers saying good night for Woodbury Facial Soap, the beauty soap for the skin you love to touch. Lovely, never, never change. Keep that breathless charm. Won't you please arrange it? Because you're lovely just the way you look tonight. This is the National Broadcasting Company.
