Let every Go! Signal remind you that you do go farther with Signal Gasoline. The Signal Oil Program. The Signal Oil Company and your neighborhood signal dealer bring you another curious story by the Whistler. Tonight, Seascape. I am the Whistler. And I know many things, for I walk by night. I know many strange tales, many secrets hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadows. Presently, I'll tell you of nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. But first, Signal Oil Company wants to pass along this timely warning. During 1943, according to the National Safety Council, 97,800 persons were killed right here in America in accidents. Of the deaths caused by autos, one out of five occurred when roads were wet or slippery, one out of five when driver's vision was obscured. Fortunately, precautions can be taken to help prevent these two types of accidents. For instance, tires that are worn smooth tend to skid more readily. But a deep heavy retread job, the kind Signal Gasoline dealers are prepared to give your tires, will restore their grip on the road, help you stop more quickly. And if a worn windshield wiper is leaving streaks across your vision, Signal Gasoline dealers will install a fine new Rainmaster blade while you wait. So have your tire tread and your windshield wiper checked the next time you're at your neighborhood's Signal Gasoline dealers. You'll feel a lot better knowing your car is prepared for the wet weather driving ahead. And it may help save a life, possibly your own. And now, the Whistler. The Atlantic coastline from the Gulf of St. Lawrence south to Cape Hatteras and beyond is a treacherous one. An ever-present threat to the thousands of vessels which have for centuries moved in streams, in and out of American ports. And the keepers of the lighthouses there are men with an awful responsibility. Men who must not only fight the peril of the storm, but must battle continually against the loneliness and despair of their vigils. It's not a very attractive life. No. Especially for a girl like Madeleine Murray, who six months ago came to live with her new husband Richard at their lighthouse on a rocky island off the coast of northern Maine. Good Lord. Just listen to that wind. Yes, Richard, I hear the wind. Things have been quiet for too long. Yeah, I got a strange feeling something's going to happen. I wish it would. Oh, now, Madeleine. Well, I do. Tell you, I can't help it, Richard. I'm so weary of the same old rocks and ocean I could almost scream. It's been six months, six long months. I know, I know. But I tried to tell you before we... Yes, you did. I admit everything. You were honest and aboveboard. You said it would be lonely and cold and silent, and I said it didn't matter. That doesn't help me now. It's driving me crazy, I tell you. Oh, please, Madeleine. All right, all right, I'm sorry. Just like all the other times. But I've done everything I can. Yes, what? Well, for example, why didn't you go into Bango for a vacation that time? I told you you were free to go. And Aunt Elizabeth would have been glad to have you. Oh, I just didn't feel like going. But why? It's just what you want. Oh, don't ask me why. I just didn't feel like going, that's all. Madeleine, look at me. You don't love me anymore, do you? No. Furthermore, I never did. Well, you can go if you want to, Madeleine. I can't go, Richard. I'm going crazy. I want to, but I can't. Why did you marry me? You want the truth? Yes. All right, I can't go. I've got to stay here for another year. Maybe longer than that. This is the last place in the world they think of looking for me. Looking for you? What do you mean? Who? The police. I killed a man, Richard. No, you couldn't. Yes, but I did. You have to believe it. And after I killed him, I ran away. I didn't know which way to turn. That isn't until you arrived on the scene with your lighthouse. Who was it? A man I loved once. Murderous. Surprised? I married you, Richard. Now what are you going to do about it? Why did you have to tell me? Because I don't care anymore. Do you understand? Matter of fact, I think the state prison has a lot of advantages over an acre of rock and a flock of seagulls. They'd hang you. Maybe. I've had its advantages, too. You'll find out very soon. There's only one thing to do, Madeleine. All right, fine. Radio the police. They'll send me to prison, Richard, but at last I'll be free. That's a laugh, isn't it? I'll be free of this rock. You. Yes, Richard. There's only one thing to do. Radio for the police to come and get her. That's the law, Richard. To do otherwise would be to shelter a fugitive from justice. That's what you're thinking as the long hours tick away in the stillness of your bedroom. You remember a lot of things now. The night you wandered into the Staghorn Inn six months ago and found her there at a table, looking as if she'd been crying, and how you had tried to comfort her without much success until, at last, you had explained your lonely existence at the lighthouse. It was a different story then, wasn't it? Almost as if she'd suddenly got an idea. She was interested then, yes, infused about the paintings you brought to town, the seascapes you'd painted during the long, lonesome days there at the top of the point. Remember how she said she was tired of the city and longed to get away from it all, just as you did. And it didn't take her long, just two days to be exact, before you were sailing back to the lighthouse with your new bride. But that was six months ago. And now you know the truth. Madeleine is a murderess. It's the next day. The nor'easter hits with full fury, but you hardly hear it as you sit and stare out of a window at the top of the tower. Hello, dear. Lonesome? Madeleine, please. Why so gloomy? After all, I'm the one who's going to prison. I still can't believe it. Oh, you will in time. Now, if you were a good husband, you'd be bustling around the house arranging a going-away party for me. You're not going away. You mean you didn't send the radio message? No, no, I couldn't. Oh, you love it. That's why, isn't it? Isn't it? Go away, will you? Why, certainly that's it. You couldn't dare to see me go. You couldn't take it, could you? All right, so I couldn't. But nobody else will get you, at least you'll be mine. Look! Out there off the point. Good Lord, there's a man out there in a skiff. He won't last five minutes in that surf. Hello! What's he doing? He's waving an oar. Give me that megaphone. Needs help. Take the lead, I. You can't land on those rocks. That wave! Yes, he's going to get it. I'm going down there. Maybe I can help. All right, here you go. That's it, he'll be OK in no time. Thanks. Yeah, I'm OK. Yeah, he is. Sit on the couch. Got to get these clothes off. Cool. I'm cool. Oh, it's passed out. Better cover you up, old man. You're all in. There you are. Where's the hot water? Is he hurt badly? What's the matter? I don't know. Yes, he's hurt pretty badly. Bad gash on the head. Give me the brandy, quick. He's chilled to the bone. Lucky, though. That sea seemed to pick him up and toss him over the reef. Here you are. That's it. It'll warm him up in a jiffy. What's the matter with you, Madeline? You're shaking like a leaf. Can't be. What are you talking about? Not a coincidence. Not here. Must be a reason. You know him? Yes. His name is Adams. Blake Adams. He was with me on the night I killed the man. Yes, Madeline. The night you killed the man was a night neither you nor Blake Adams will forget for a long time. You're thinking now as Blake lies there, unconscious. Of the afternoon, the wire came from Maxie, saying he was just passing through town. Casual he was. Just as if he hadn't run out on you, as if nothing had ever happened. Just as if he were looking up a dear old maiden aunt. And when you told Blake about it, you were glad you couldn't read your mind, because it was full of murder. The way to do it didn't come to you, though, until Blake suggested you ask Maxie up to the apartment for a drink, just for old time's sake. Then it was as clear as a blueprint. Maxie was strictly a one-drink man. But this time, one would be enough. So it's natural you're wondering about Blake and how he came to crack up right on your doorstep. It's been six hours now since Richard brought him in, and you, Madeline, haven't left his side, and he seems to be stirring. Oh, my head. What happened? Where am I? No, no, no. Don't sit up. No, don't sit up. There. That's it. I can't see where I am. You're lucky to be here at all. Here, take a drink for this. Thanks. How did you... Madeline? Yes. Surprised? Not exactly. I'm surprised to see you, Blake. How... What happened? Lie back down now. You're a good patient. You've got a bad gash over your eye. Yeah, the rocks. Now I remember. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Don't be. I don't need you to be sorry. Oh, I'm sorry. I don't need you to be sorry. No, I remember. That skiff... It must have been out of your mind to go out in a storm like that. I had to see you, baby. It's about Maxy. That's it, isn't it. They know about Maxy. What do you mean, they know about Maxy? He died of indigestion, that's all. Maybe, maybe not. I hope that's what they think. I don't know where the poor Max could stand to post-mortem. Wait a minute. I remember now, you mixed the drinks that day. Yeah, the glass with the red ring on the top. I was to make sure he got it. Who examined him? Doc Cranston. He treated him before for indigestion. Same symptoms, same everything. So you poisoned them. In the drink. What's so funny about that? Oh, sorry, baby. Couldn't figure out why you ran away. That's funny. I didn't see you do it. You poured all of our martinis out of the same shaker. And the ralies in the glasses already, weren't they? Yeah. I get it. Poison in the olives. So that's why you're here. You don't think it's because I like lighthouses, do you? You tell me why you're here. What happened? Did you get on the wrong streetcar or something? There's no use telling you, baby. You wouldn't believe me. You're trying to deceive me. Okay, here it is. I traced you here through the guy who sold your house for you. Mm-hmm. Why? Well, with Maxi gone, I... I mean, I'll... Well, come on, come on. We were making it tough. We were pretty good pals once after he ran out on you that time. You would? Wait a minute. Are you trying to tell me that... Yeah. I'm trying to tell you that I love you, baby. Since way before you met him, I tried to tell you a couple of times, but I guess I'm not the Charles Boyard type. It's twice as hard now. It was all my fault, Blake. I couldn't see very well in those days. I know. I don't know what to say. I know I'm not much of a prize, Madeline, but you could do worse. Blake? Yeah? This is on the square, huh? What can I do to show you? On this baby, I'll do anything. If this is another blind alley, I'll die. It's not a blind alley, honey. It's a four-lane highway. There's one thing you can do. What's that? You can kiss me. You were listening to The Whistler, brought to you by your friend, The Signal Oil Company, marketers of famous Signal Gasoline, your best buy today. Remember to let every Go! Signal remind you, you do go farther with Signal Gasoline. The Whistler, by The Signal Oil Company. So, Blake and Madeline have found each other out in the lonely lighthouse off the coast of Maine. And it doesn't seem to matter now that it took a murderer to place their feet firmly on the four-lane highway, leading over the horizon. No, Maxie's death doesn't matter to them now. They only think of leaving the lighthouse in the cold, gray ocean in Richard. What about that? What about Richard, the only other one who knows about Maxie? He just returned from a trip to the mainland for supplies, and Madeline greets him at the entrance of the lighthouse. Well, back on time. Hello, Madeline. I was a little anxious for you. The channel's so rough today. Anxious for me? Afraid I wouldn't make it or that I would? Oh, please don't, Richard. Not today. I'm just being practical, my dear. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll change my clothes. Oh, wait. Just a minute, please. Something I want to talk to you about. About Blake Adams. Oh, yes. The patient. How is he? He's almost well enough to go. Too bad. You seem to be quite fond of him. Yes, Richard, I am. I love him and I want to go with him. What? We haven't told you because we planned to simply take the boat some night while you were asleep. You're out of your mind. You'd be picked up in a minute. They don't know about the murder, Richard. He died of natural causes. You're free? I mean that the three of us are the only ones who know. That's why I'm telling you, we're going. The worm turns, eh? What wasn't you said a while ago? What am I going to do about it? You wouldn't go to the police now, would you? So I'm holding the strings at last. I'm a little more important to you now, huh? Richard, I love him. You've got to believe me. You don't know what love is. You can take your choice, Madeline. Stay here with me or hang. Thanks, huh? What? It's hard to believe today that I cracked up right out there just like a mill pine. What's the name, Madeline? I don't know. Maxie, I guess. Oh, forget it. You know, we ought to take off tomorrow. I'm feeling pretty solid. What about Richard? I'll leave him here with his lighthouse. He'll never miss you. I told him about us. He doesn't want me to go. So what? What can he do? He could tell the police what really happened to Maxie. What? You mean he knows? I told him about it tonight at the wreck. He says if I leave, he'll go to the police. Did you see, dear? How could I know you were coming? It doesn't matter whether I live or die here. He couldn't testify against you, but... Listen, does he know you poisoned Maxie? I didn't tell him how. Good. He won't be suspicious of his coffee, for instance. What do you mean? Yeah. It's a gamble, but we got a chance. We need 24 hours. Listen, it's about three hours from the dock on the mainland to the airport. I got a pal over there with a plane. We can make Miami in nine hours with luck and catch the clip at a Rio. I'll leave tonight and get everything set up. I ought to be back here by eight in the morning. That's where you come in. You mean Richard? Yeah. You gave me some sleeping powder when I first got here. Is there any left? Yes, I think so. It's in the medicine cabinet. Okay. You take care of his breakfast. A good long dose won't hurt him. When he wakes up, we'll be halfway to Rio. Just one thing. Don't give him too much. He's got to live. And so all that night after Blake's departure, Madeline thinks about the job she must do, and of his strange interest in Richard's welfare, the way he emphasized his warning about an overdose. Richard must live, he said. But why? Blake had never been so humanitarian. No, Madeline. You don't sleep much that night. And it's about five o'clock in the morning when your eyes finally close. Suddenly you wake. You jump into your robe and slippers. Yes, it's seven thirty and Richard's bed is empty. Oh. Good morning, Richard. Oh. Hello. The door is missing. Our good patient has left. Or am I telling you anything? Are you sure? Yes, I'm sure. Don't try and play innocent, sweetheart. Just what have you got up your sleeve? He must have left after our talk yesterday. I told him I was going to be detained here. Oh, I see. He's an ungrateful wretch sneaking off that way after I saved his life. So you've decided to be a good wife after all, eh? I'll fix your breath. No, don't bother. I've had it. What about coffee? No, thanks. I had a rotten night. I couldn't sleep a wink. Don't leave you alone, my dear. I'll be up at the light. Well, darling, I was hoping you'd have breakfast with me. Won't you? Well, aren't we considerate? I'm sorry about everything, Richard. You know, I could almost believe you if I didn't know you better. I was so wrong, Richard. I lost my head, I guess. Very well. Have your breakfast and come up to the light. There's something I want to tell you. And if you're still bent on being the perfect wife, you can mix me a bromide for this headache. Yes, Richard. Right away. That's a sour taste. This is a different brand. I guess so. Now, about Blake. He knows all about your... your past? Yes. Are you sure of him? What do you mean? This. What article's been torn out? Off the front page. You can still make out the tips of the top headline. Go on, look at it. Well, what about it? It said reward offered. Does that suggest anything to you? I don't know. Oh, sure are you that your little escapade is a dead issue. Oh, you're wrong. He wouldn't do it. I know him. Oh, I don't know. People do strange things for money, Madeline. For instance, at this very moment, he could be telling some interesting things to the police. You got that paper yesterday. What did the article say? Unfortunately, I hadn't got around to reading it. You know, it wouldn't surprise me a great deal to discover you might be a bit hotter than you think. Well, I think I'll go down and take a short nap. Wake me at ten, will you? It's almost nine and still no sign of Blake. Madeline tries to shrug off the suspicion in her mind, but it's there to stay and it keeps growing, growing, growing. It's ten now. And while Richard sleeps downstairs, you pace the floor. No, no, he wouldn't do that to you. But where is he? What could keep him this long? The double cross? It must be. Yes, or why did he warn you against the overdose? Richard is precious to him, that's why. They don't pay rewards on arrest. They pay off on conviction. And Richard knows enough to convict you. Blake isn't coming back. The next thing you will see is a boatload of police. Yes, that's it. The launch, down at the landing. Your only chance. Maybe you can make it before they get here. You can just get to the mainland. Now to find your small pistol and slip it in your purse. And now, down to the launch. Ah, but wait a minute. There's a boat coming in. It's Blake and he's alone. Grab the line, honey. Here you go. Where have you been? Oh, plant the knots this time. We won't be here long. You all set? You're late. I know, it wasn't as easy as I thought. Did you take care of him? Yes. What's the matter? I don't know. Come on, snap out of it. The plane's all fixed. We'll be in Miami tonight. Cost me 500 bucks. Wait a minute. You were careful with the sleeping powder, like I said. Yes, just like you said. Why did you say it? What do you mean? Why were you so interested in Richard's health? One murder rap is plenty in my league, baby. Come on, we gotta go. Wait a minute, I've been thinking, Blake. Now, wait a minute. Something I found up in the house started me thinking. Well, think on the way. We haven't time to be standing around passing the time of day. Come on. Just a minute. It was a newspaper with an article cut out about a reward. Where did you find that? You tore it out, I didn't do. They're offering a reward for me. Now, you're wrong, baby. They're not offering a reward for you. There was something in it I didn't want your husband to see. Here, look. Does this make you feel any better? Receipts for the charter plane and two reservations to Rio. Does that look like a double cross? I don't know. You've got to believe me. But we can't stand here arguing. All right, I'll get my bag. He's meeting us down the coast a few miles with a car. I thought it'd be safer. Put that boat back there. Where? Ah, fishing boat, I guess. It's following us. No, it couldn't be. Holy smoke. What are you doing? The shore. That's a Coast Guard cutter. I was right, wasn't I? What do you mean? You thought you could lie your way out of it, didn't you? I've heard of some rotten tricks, but this one's a surprise. You think you're all set now with the police moving up in your star witness bag at the lighthouse? Madeline, you're wrong. Listen. Put that gun away. You're way off the beam, I tell you. I'm straight, baby. I'm for you. Oh, you're for me all right. For the money I can bring you in court. Look, I have nothing to do with this. Look, I'll tell you now. It won't make any difference to either of us. That article... You're making a big mistake, baby. Just give me a minute. I've been fed up with your lying, Blake. You and your four-lane highway to Rio. Hello, officer. They won't need a detective for this one. You're a lying rat. Right under the nose of the Coast Guard. Madeline! The Whistler will be back in just a moment with a strange ending of tonight's story. Meantime, here's the answer to a question many drivers have asked. Does motor oil have any effect on gasoline mileage? The answer is yes, definitely. It's only logical that anything that helps your motor run better will also help it deliver more power from the gasoline it uses. That's why the seven-way protection which solvent refining gives signal four-star motor oil is doubly important today. You see, because of solvent refining, the latest, most costly process known to oil engineers, pure paraffin-based signal four-star motor oil has triple-strength film that clings to motor surfaces, seals in power, retains its lubricating quality for longer miles, and actually forms less carbon. Best of all, while you're enjoying this improved performance, you're profiting in two extra ways. One, in longer motor life, and two, in helping your gasoline go farther. So make your next oil change a change to solvent-refined, signal four-star motor oil. It's one of the famous go farther signal products featured by that lubrication specialist whose permanent business is helping cars go farther. Your neighborhood signal gasoline dealers. Now, back to the Whistler. Music It was too bad that Madeleine didn't wait a few seconds longer, or she would have saved herself a great deal of trouble in the long term in the penitentiary. But that's the way Madeleine always did things, jump first and think afterwards. That's why she ran away a few minutes after poor Maxie took the drink and died, before anyone noticed that he had drunk the martini, but had left the olive she had poisoned untouched. And that's why she shot Blake, before he had a chance to tell her that it was he the police wanted for Maxie's murder. Yes, he had had the same idea that day, and he put poison in Maxie's martini too. And that was the poison that killed him, because it was in the drink itself. You see, he really loved Madeleine, and Maxie was the only one between them and the four-lane highway over the horizon. And when at last the poisoning was discovered, the poison traced and the reward offered for his apprehension, Blake knew he'd have to run away, that perhaps there in the lighthouse she hadn't heard of it and would go with him. That's why Richard had to live, because after all, it wouldn't do to have a murder rap hanging over her head too, would it? How poder Next Monday at 9 o'clock, the Signal Oil Program will bring you another strange tale by the Whistler. The Signal Oil Program is broadcast for your entertainment by the Signal Oil Company, marketers of Signal's famous Go-Farther gasoline and motor oil, and by your neighborhood's Signal Oil dealer, who is at your service daily to keep your car running for the duration. The Signal Oil Program, produced by George W. Allen, with story by Vic Kushner, music by Wilbur Hatch, is transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. Bob Anderson speaking for your friend, the Signal Oil Company, and suggesting once again that you let every Go-Signal remind you that you do go farther with Signal gasoline. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
