Signal. Signal gasoline. Yes, signal is the new gasoline you can prove is superior. The Signal Oil Company and your neighborhood signal dealer bring you another curious story by the Whistler. Tonight, Death wears a white robe. I am the Whistler and I know many things for I walk by night. I know many strange tales hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadows. Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. The cabin high on the slope of Bald Mountain had always been an important part of the marriage of Sam and Leah Wixson. A successful marriage on the surface. Only two people had any reason to think otherwise. One was Leah herself and the other was her best friend, Suzanne. Leah and Sam had met at the cabin. Their romance had begun there. And one bright day in late winter, some five years afterwards, Suzanne had come to the conclusion it should properly end there. Leah could feel something coming when Suzanne engineered the invitation for herself and her husband Harvey for the week. Yes, Leah, you wonder what's behind those innocent eyes of Suzanne. What's making the wheels whir in that sharp little mind as you and she and Sam approach the cabin. Lucky there's a crust on the snow today. Never make it otherwise. These snowshoes are fun. Suzanne, darling, do let Sam carry that suitcase. Well, he's already carrying yours and his. I'm not crippled. There's an idea, Leah. On what? On how to win men and influence them. Well, if I were the strong, rangy type, I'd carry one for you, dear. You know I'm not athletic. Well, the strong, rangy type definitely has her points. I'll stack your snowshoes over in the corner there. Well, everything seems to be just as we left it. No bears? Not a bear. And now where's the key to the shack? Oh, what a beautiful spot. I'm sick just thinking what Harvey and I've missed not coming up here. Well, I wanted to have you up several times. We've just never been able to work it out, dear. Have we, Sam? No. Door's stuck a little bit. There. Oh, what a dream of a place. Sam, the fireplace. It's divine. Oh, wait till Harvey sees that. Like it? I built it with my own two hands. It's perfect. Did you design it, Sam? Suzanne, dear, you're positively gushing. Sam's an architect, remember? Of course, Leah. She likes the fireplace. Let it go. Well, I don't. Looks like a pile of bleached bones. Come on, Suzanne. Now, you and Harvey can have this room, darling. Sam, bring Suzanne's bag in here. All right. Why don't you freshen up, Suzie? You look utterly ravaged. Your nose absolutely gleaned. Oh, really, dear? I might pass you a helpful hint. You apparently swallowed all your lipstick with that hamburger we ate in town. I never worry about makeup, darling. When you're on the right side of thirty, it isn't so important. Or do you remember? I'm taking the sled and gonna get a lot of wood before dark. Oh, well, Leah, you better show Suzanne where the linen closet is so she can get her bed made up. Can't we help? Oh, don't thank. Oh, Sam, what a cute bell on that sleigh. Well, back home in Connecticut, we always had a bell on the sled that brought in the Yule log, and I thought it was a cute idea, so I put one on this. You have such nice ideas, Sam. Where do you have to go for wood? You sure we can't help? I think I can manage all right. Woodshed's about fifty yards from the house. Kind of inconvenient, but it was already built when we bought the property, and I haven't gotten around to moving it yet. Well, I'll see you girls later. Oh, I hate to think of Sam having to drive all the way back to the city for Harvey. Or is it that you hate to think of Harvey coming up here, Suzie? You're not just a teensy bit bored with Harvey, are you? There aren't any men here now, Leah. You can skip the teensy. You didn't answer me, darling. Don't judge others by yourself. What do you mean? I married for love, you know, not money. Did you? Well, could anybody doubt it, looking at Sam? Why, grant you. Sam's a handsome man. Oh, oh, you've noticed. I thought you had, dear. Yes, I'm a very lucky girl. I've often thought how discouraging it would be to be married to someone who was bald and fat and unimaginative, even if it did have gobs of money. You're referring to Harvey? Oh, darling, I think Harvey's cute, in a pudgy sort of way. By the way, does he still take bicarbonate? Leah, I might point out that I'm not trying to eat my cake and have it, too. Just what do you mean? I'm talking about your Red Cross activities. Oh? Those evenings you donate to good works patronizing the arts. What are you talking about? Shall I come to the point? Or would you like to fence for a while? You're not being clever, dear. Well, I'll try to be more specific. I'm referring to the movie type you picked up at Sandra Gilman's, the pianist. Picked up? I hardly know him. My, Leah, you're actually blushing. I can see it clear through that Westmore number 12. I've nothing to hide. Your taste isn't bad at that. He is fascinating and talented. Musically, of course. But I should think you'd worry a little of Chopin after six months. It has been six months, hasn't it? You wouldn't dare. Wouldn't I? Listen, Suzanne, it's all over. Believe me. There was nothing between us. I know I was foolish. I just didn't realize what was happening. Uh-huh. Sam would understand all of that, of course. You're not going to say anything, Suzanne. You can't. Sam would think all kinds of things. He wouldn't understand. He'd be... He'd be good on you, wouldn't he, Leah? He isn't the kind a woman can make a fool of. Yes, yes. Don't you see that break our marriage? You wouldn't do that, Suzanne. You couldn't gain anything by it. We've been friends too long for that. You can get off your knees now. Oh. I hate you. Of course you do. You always have. You're just trying to get back at me. You've been waiting for a chance like this ever since Sam and I were married. You love him, don't you? You've been in love with him for years. I didn't say that. But it's true. And you think this is your opportunity. But you won't tell Sam what you found out. You won't. Do you understand? My darling, you're so terribly dramatic. How could you stop me? I don't know. But I will, Suzanne. I will if I have to. Have to what, Leah? There's just the two of us here. And I'm the strong, rangy, athletic type. Remember? That new car you've been waiting for is apparently still quite a ways off. But for the fun of improved driving performance, there's no need to wait any longer for that. No, sir. With new signal in your tank, you actually feel your present car get young again right now. Yes, whether you're driving a 32 Ford or a 42 Cadillac, you'll thrill the performance you never dreamed was built into your car. For new signal gasoline isn't just pre-war quality, not just old style gasoline improved. No, indeed. New signal is an entirely new type, super fuel, that you can actually prove is superior. Prove it in three ways. One, with quicker starting. You'll feel your motor spring to life the moment you touch the starter. Two, with faster pickup. See your car zip out ahead with pep that makes you proud. Three, with higher anti-knock. Hear how quietly your motor purrs even when it's working hard. And what's more, because all this new power means you'll be shifting less, and shifting waste gasoline, you know, you'll enjoy more high gear miles, actually go farther than ever, with new signal gasoline. There's a best way to prove all this, and one tankful will do it. Just drive in this week to any of the friendly stations displaying signals, familiar yellow and black circle sign. And say, fill her up with new signal gasoline. And now, back to the Whistler. ["The Whistler"] Well, Leah, you thought you'd manage the musician pretty cleverly, didn't you? And he'd seemed so important to you for a while. But now, with the prospect of losing Sam staring you in the face, it's different. He'll walk out, you're sure of it. You know him too well. Suzanne holds you in the palm of her hand, Leah. The moment she chooses to open her mouth, Sam is gone forever. And with him goes everything. Money, social position, friends. Everything your calculating mind bargained for when you married him. All through dinner, you wait for the axe to fall, but nothing happens. You can hardly bring yourself to look at her. That self-satisfied half-smile on her face makes you want to scream. And that night, when you and Sam are finally alone. Does Anne finally go to bed? Yes, her lights just went out. Good. Now, perhaps you can let me in on it. On what? On what's been going on around here. You two have been at each other's throats all day. Oh, that's just our way, dear. We've always been frank with each other. Too frank, I'd say. The air was so full of daggers for a while this afternoon, I could hardly see what I was doing. Come on, what is it? Well, Suzanne's all wrapped up in music, you know, and particularly Chopin. Well, there's the pianist we all admire, but she met personally the other day. And, well, we thought she wasn't being quite fair to Harvey. You mean... It was nothing serious, of course. Well, Sam, you mustn't be the weirdest to anyone. If either she or Harvey had found out, I don't know what I'd do. It's all very silly. It isn't silly. It's darn serious. But you don't understand, Sam. It was really nothing. I don't care how insignificant it is. If people are talking about it, it's serious. I can hardly believe she'd do a thing like that. It just isn't like Suzanne. Harvey's a little jealous. Well, what's wrong with being jealous of your wife? Harvey's got a right to be jealous. I've got a right to be jealous. Thank heaven you're not like that. You mean you wouldn't understand if... Leah, just don't ever give me any cause. Don't ever let me down that way. I'd... I'd... You'd what, Sam? It scares me. I'd probably do something terrible. Sam. Just remember that, Leah. Don't ever give me a reason. Promise me. All right, Sam. I promise. [♪ dramatic music playing in background. [♪ dramatic music playing in background. [♪ dramatic music playing in background. [♪ dramatic music playing in background. Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you, Leah? That was a dangerous step to take. But it's your word against hers, after all. Perhaps you have something else in mind, something involving the day and a half the two of you will be alone in the cabin, while Sam goes back to the city to pick up Harvey. They say the best defense is a first-class attack. Maybe that's why you seem to have regained a little of your old self-confidence the next morning, as you and Suzanne go out to the shed for firewood an hour after he's gone. Well, don't stand there, Leah. Help me with the door. Take your time. We've got a day and a half. Oh, wonderful. What? Oh, you've got the strength of a horse. You're pretty chipper this morning, aren't you? I'm delirious with excitement. A day and a half all to ourselves. It's a grim prospect. Well, are you going to stand in a corner and rhapsodise, or are we going to get some wood? Oh, all right. I don't see why you're fussing so about wood. There's enough in the box in the house to... To last a couple of hours. I can't understand why Sam had this wood sack clear up to the rafters. Can't even reach the top. Oh, here's one that's loose. What are you doing? Look out! What matter is... Don't be a fool. You'll kill yourself. Do you want that mountain of logs to crash down on you? Oh, don't be ridiculous. You'll move those centerpieces and the whole pile will fall. Nonsense. Watch. Look out! There, you see? Nothing happened? The Lord looks out for drunks and fools, darling. Have these, too. Wait a minute. That just about does it. I've taken about all I'm going to take from you. All right. You want it straight from the shoulder, and I'll give it to you that way. I said you're a no-good little husband. I'll say it again. You've been taking Sam for a ride. Now I'm going to make sure he knows all about it. Is that good enough for you? You're bluffing. Hmm. You'll see whether or not I'm bluffing. You're so jealous of Sam and me, you can't see straight. I can't say I blame you, staring at that moon-faced husband of yours across the breakfast table every morning. You're so miserable yourself, you can't stand happiness in anyone else. But you're not going to get anywhere. Sam would never believe you in a million years. I'm not asking him to believe me, dear. What do you mean? Sam ought to recognize your handwriting and your personal stationery readily enough. Oh, you should have known better, Leah. But you weren't quite yourself at the time, were you? What are you talking about? A letter, dated September 18. Something about you and Arturo meeting in the lobby of the Metropole at 8 o'clock. Where is it? Oh, never mind where it is. I have it. Where did you get it? I bought it. Arturo was quite attached to it, but he had his prize. Oh, you cheap unscrupulous... Oh, you didn't really think I wouldn't come prepared, did you? Oh, Leah, dear, how can you be... Put down that axe. Do you hear me? Put down that axe! I'll kill you! Oh, no, you don't! You're killing me! Listen, you give me that axe, do you hear me? Give... Oh, dear. That's better. You can't do it. You wouldn't do it. You wouldn't do it. I'm the strong, rangy type. Remember, strong as a horse. Oh, get up from there. You're not hurt. Don't knock me down. You hurt my arm. I hate you. I hate you. Darling, you nauseate me. You really do. I'm going out for a walk, to where the air is clean. I'll kill you for this, Susan Reiner. I'll kill you! And you could do it, couldn't you, Leah? There's a blind, frustrated hatred inside you that would make you capable of anything. Even murder. All that day, while Suzanne is out walking, you sit alone in the living room in front of the big fireplace, staring into the embers and thinking. The two of you alone in the cabin. It would have to be perfect. The slightest indication that it wasn't an accident and you'd be done for. There simply wouldn't be any other suspects. Yes, Leah, it would have to be perfect, or it couldn't be at all. Perfect. Perfect. Thinking, dear? Oh. Oh, when did you get back? Now. I made a great-to-do about slamming the door and throwing off my snowshoes, but you didn't budge an inch. What's on your mind? Nothing. That's as it should be. Where have you been? Over to the West Slope and back. You should have stayed longer. Oh? You might have been caught in the storm. Storm? Don't be silly, dear. The sun was so bright on that snow, you could hardly look at it. The radio said we're in for a bad storm sometime tonight. I just turned it off. Hmm. That raises a delightful possibility. What's that? Sam and Harvey may be delayed, dear. You and I may have several more charming days together here on the mountain. How's the food situation? There's plenty. That's good. Speaking of food, what about dinner? I haven't thought about it. Coffee on the stove. Will you join me in a cup? Thanks, no. Oh, shame to waste that gorgeous fire, isn't it, dear? If Arturo were only here... Suzanne, will you stop it? You've made yourself perfectly clear. I know what you're going to do, and I know how you're going to do it, and there's nothing more to be said. I can't stand this jabbing and picking any longer. I can't stand it. On second thought, I'll make my own coffee. It's safer that way. By midnight, the temperature outside the cabin drops to 20 below zero, and at 1.30 in the morning, the blizzard sweeps in from the north. The mercury falls another 10 degrees. You're forced to cooperate with the now, aren't you, Leah? The two of you take turns all night getting out of bed to put wood on the fire. The night seems endless, but morning finally comes. A raw gray morning with that stabbing north wind still piling the drifts higher and higher up. Well, you finally made it. I thought you were never going to get up. Did you happen to look out your window this morning? Leah, I... We're snowed in, my perfidious friend, all snug and cozy. Leah, there's something the matter. I don't know why... You're looking particularly stupid this morning, Suzanne. If I didn't know, you'd better think you had a hangover. What's the matter with you? Why are you fumbling around there in the doorway? Leah, I can't... I can't see. Leah, I'm blind. I'm not blind! What? Come out here in the light. Look out for the tablecloth. I can't see. I can't see. Your eyes are... blind. I'm blind. I've gone blind. Suzanne, were you crazy enough to go out without your sunglasses yesterday? Sunglasses? You stayed out all day, the sun glaring on the snow... Suzanne, you're snow blind. Snow blind? It's only temporary, isn't it? Two days, perhaps. Not... not more than two days. Harvey will... will be here today. Harvey won't be here today. Probably not tomorrow either. If you could see, you'd know why. The road is blocked. The storm's getting worse. Now, I think you'll have to rely on me, darling... to be your... seeing eye. Suzanne, unlock the door. You'll have to come out of your room sometime. You'll freeze to death in there. Well... you do have a large mouth, Suzanne, but it doesn't extend as far as you've daubed that lip. You're cruel, Leah. You'd like to see me like this. You think it's funny. It will go away, though. You said so yourself. I'll be all right tomorrow. I'll be able to see tomorrow. I'm not afraid of you, Leah. Afraid of me? Well, why should you be? Let me guide you to a chair by the fire, darling. Don't touch me! I can get there. I can... I can feel my way... Better let me help you, darling. No! I'll... I'll just sit right here. Well... now... what are we going to have for dinner, huh? How about a couple of nice poached eggs on toast and a steaming cup of coffee? I don't want anything. Oh, but it's all cooked. Here. Smell good? I don't want any! Well, you haven't eaten since last night, dear. You've got to have food. Look, you're shivering. Take it away, Emmett! You're cold, darling. Couldn't you possibly force us to swallow this hot coffee down? Do your world of good. Here, smell. Good? All right. I'll take the coffee. That's better. Here, I'd better warm it up in the kitchen. You know, I never really explored this cabin until today. There are all kinds of interesting things in the cellar. Sam's really quite a trapper, you know. All his equipment's there, the scrapers for the skins, the frames, the traps. There you are, dear. I put sugar in it. And a big box of some kind of arsenic he uses to cure the hides. Arsenic? Ah, gets rid of the vermin. Come on, dear, drink up. Do your good. No, I don't want it. Take it away! Oh, Suzanne, you're priceless. No, Leah, that would be too crude, wouldn't it? It would never work with inquisitive examiners and autopsies. You rejected poison at the start when you first began thinking about killing her. You're just playing with her like a cat with a mouse. You've thought of a better way, haven't you? A perfect foolproof way. Leah, Leah, you've gone. You've left me. I'm right here, darling. Oh, why didn't you answer, Leah? I've been thinking. Of what? Of you, of me, of our beautiful friendship. Leah, I want to tell you something. Leah, you know I'm your friend. Of course, of course, you're my dear, dear friend. And Sam's too, especially Sam. It's not what you think, Leah. Oh, spare me, darling. I'm not interested in listening to you unburden your soul. Even when there's no other entertainment available. But Leah, I want you to know this. There's nothing I want to hear from you. Where, where are you going, Leah? I'm getting our coats and snowshoes. Our, our what? Our coats and snowshoes. We have to get another load of wood. Unless you want to sit in here and freeze to death. I can't go outside. I can't see. And I can't pull that loaded sleigh alone. Don't get along. I'll guide you. If you fall down out there, you won't hurt yourself. The snow is soft. Very soft, Suzanne. Even gets warm after a while. Here, here's your coat mittens and scarf for your head. I won't go out there. I won't. Listen to that wind. We couldn't find our way through that blizzard. I could get to that woodshed blindfold. Come on, put on these things. I can't, I can't. But you will. You will. No, I, no. There. Now, put on these mittens. Snow. Oh, Leah. Leah, you hold my arm. You won't let go of me. I'll hold your arm. And when we get outside, you can hold onto the rope. Ready? Come on, then. How much farther is it? We're almost there. Oh, it, it seems so much farther than before. All right. You let go of the rope now and stand right there. I'll pull the sleigh up to the shed and load it. Oh, wait. Lead me to the shed so I can stand out of the wind. Just walk about six steps forward. Right in front of you. I must be walking in the wrong direction. I haven't come to the shed. Leah. Leah. Answer me, Leah. Where are you, Leah? Are you in the shed? I don't hear you. I don't hear the bell, Leah. Leah. Leah, you're leaving me. You're leaving me out here to die. Leah. Leah. Leah. Leah, come back, please. Please, Leah. Please, come back. Come back. Which way? Where did you go? Where did you go? Answer me. Answer me. Leah, listen. Leah, what I said about telling Sam I won't. Honestly, I won't. I was never going to. There is no letter. You're my friend, Leah. I'm not in love with Sam. I'm not. I'm not in love with him. You're my best friend, Leah. You believe me, don't you? You believe me? Answer me, Leah. Answer me. The Whistler will return with a strange ending of tonight's story in just a moment. Meantime, I want to give you the real reason why New Signal isn't just a pre-war quality gasoline, isn't just an old style gasoline improved, but an entirely new type super fuel with performance features that until recently were reserved for war. You see, science has long known that gasoline is composed of molecules and each molecule is actually an arrangement of atoms. But until recently, gasoline molecules were left just as nature made them. Under the impetus of war, however, certain chemists found out how to take gasoline molecules apart then rearrange their atoms in an entirely new way, creating an entirely new type super fuel. The result is the thrilling, amazing power of signals, new gasoline, bringing you performance so immediately apparent you can feel it, see it, hear it. It's because of this superior performance, which you can actually recognize the moment you step on the accelerator, that we urge you to let one tank full of New Signal gasoline talk for itself. Let its quicker starting, its faster pickup, its higher anti-knock and longer mileage demonstrate in your car why New Signal actually is the new post-war gasoline you can prove is superior. And now, back to the Whistler. That one was perfectly, it can't miss. You had an argument and she walked out of the house, said she was going to cedar village, that she couldn't stand you anymore. You tried to tell her she'd never make it, but she insisted on leaving, and that's all you know. Yes, it's perfect. No weapons, no blows or marks, just her frozen body, 200 yards from the house, far enough so you couldn't have heard her over the storm. You can't hear her now anymore as you pile wood into the sled. She's probably staggered further in the wrong direction. You need plenty of wood, Leah, make it a full load, enough to carry you through tomorrow. There you are, pile it high. One from the side. One from the end. Look out. Remember what Suzanne said about pulling one out from the center. My leg, my leg. Broken, I can't move. Suzanne, Suzanne, oh please God, let her hear me. Suzanne, the door, oh don't let the door go shut, she'll never hear me. Suzanne, over this way dear, you've got to hear me. Move on, Suzanne. The door, no, Suzanne, Suzanne. No, Suzanne, Suzanne. Next Monday at nine o'clock, the Whistler will bring you another strange tale, the curious story, Death Laughs Last. The Whistler is broadcast for your entertainment by the marketers of signal, gasoline, and motor oil, and fine quality automotive accessories, and by your neighborhood signal dealer. This program directed by George W. Allen with tonight's story by Virginia Teal, music by Wilbur Hatch, is transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. This is Marvin Miller speaking and suggesting that you try new signal. The new gasoline you can prove is superior. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
