The signal oil program, the Whistler. That whistle is your signal for the signal oil program, the Whistler. 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. Yes, friends, it's time for the Whistler, rated by Independent Research, the most popular West Coast program. And remember, let every traffic signal remind you, with new signal gasoline, you do go farther than ever. Look for the familiar big yellow and black circle sign that identifies those popular signal service stations throughout the West from Canada to Mexico. And now, the Whistler's brain story, the Brass Ring. Babe stood out on the platform in front of the sideshow tent while Duke made his pitch, smiling her best professional smile at the sea of faces below her, reserving a personal intimate wink for the tall gray-haired man with a carnation in his buttonhole. Babe was an intelligent girl, and the man with the carnation had money. She could smell it a mile off, and it didn't hurt to be nice to the customers, especially the ones with money, like dapper middle-aged Mr. Bundy, staring up at her from the crowd with stars in his eyes. Let me, let me, let me, let me right over here, step right up close. It's the most sensational, most stupendous, most identified show in the carnival. Wait until you hear, oh wait until you see. You can't miss it, you just won't miss it. Why it's so hot you'll just melt away. I said, melt away. Hey babe. Yeah, Duke? He's here again. Yeah, yeah, I see him. Mr. Finn, five bucks for a ticket and keep the change. Great guy, Duke, great guy. You know something? Uh, what? Mr. Finn's name is Bundy, and I'm gonna marry him. What are you talking? Take it easy, come on with the pitch. You're crazy, babe. I said get on with the pitch. Hey, you don't know what you're talking about. Did you hear what he said? You'll lose the crowd, they're drifting off. Okay. This way folks, what a dance she does, what a dance. You have never, never, never seen anything so colossal, so stupendous, right from the top of that gorgeous blonde head to the tips of her toes. Oh, she's hot, she's on fire, she's burning down. That's enough boys. That's more than enough for some of them. Step right up, step right over here and have your money ready. Two bits, only two bits, the fourth part of a dollar. Come on folks, give them room, give them room. Here you are. Oh, five bucks again. Yes, you can keep the change. Thanks, Mr. Bundy. Oh, Miss Logan has told you. Yeah, she told me, sucker. Who is it? Mr. Bundy. Oh, just a minute. There we are. Nice and respectful. Oh, hello Mr. Bundy. Good evening, George. Am I... No, no, not at all, Mr. Bundy. Come on in. I don't want to intrude. Forget it, I've got lots of time. Hey. What's the matter with you? We're ready to go. You better get on a move. I'm... Stole them off. I'm busy. They're going in right now. Did you hear me, Duke? I said, stall them off. Okay, babe, anything you say. You know how the customers are, Mr. Bundy. Get a little over anxious once in a while. I shouldn't wonder. Your dance is very good. Oh, you like it, huh? I haven't missed a night in three weeks. Well, maybe I ain't good enough for the Ritz Plaza, but I give them their money's worth. You certainly do. Oh, well, I don't quite know how to take that, Mr. Bundy. I see here, Georgette. Must you always call me Mr. Bundy? Well, after all... Charles. Make it Charles, will you? All right. Charles. Why do you think I've come here night after night for three weeks? Oh, I guess maybe you like me a little. They all like you, Georgette. All of those people out there. Well, Charles, I can't help it if... I know, I know. Trouble is I... I don't want it. That way. What do you mean, Charles? Quite simple. I don't want to share you with anyone else. Oh. In plain words, Georgette, I want you to marry me. Why, gee, Mr. Bundy, I mean, Charles, I... Why, I don't blame you for being surprised. You see, I was rather surprised myself. Gee, I've got to think it over. You know, a girl can't go into this. I mean, tie up her whole life like that without looking at all sides to it. Of course, Georgette. You know, I got a career here. My whole future. You don't need to worry about your future. I'll take care of that. But... but how? I have more money than I could possibly spend, Georgette. Well, gee, you can't blame me if I'm a little cagey, Charles. There are so many fellas. Well, I'll make it legal if you want. I'll get a lawyer and have an agreement drawn. Oh, will you, Charles? Will you? Babe, I told you to wait. Just a minute, Duke. Just a minute. Nothing. They're going to tear the house down if I stall them any longer. Oh, I'm sorry, Charles. I got to do my show. What about it, Georgette? Yes, Charles. Yes. Marriage? Ha! What, that old goat? Never heard anything so crazy in my life. Like I told you, Duke, it's none of your business. It's a sell-out, that's what it is. Money's important, sure. I stand out there on the midway, seven nights a week, busting my lungs out. I hustled props, sold peanuts when I didn't have it. But I wouldn't... What wouldn't you do, Duke? I wouldn't sell out, babe. You got money on your mind right now, haven't you? What do you mean? You're through without me. That's all washed up. That's what's on your mind, ain't it? Not the sell-out. Uh-uh. It's what am I going to sell when the babe's gone? Shut up! I'll say what I want to. The brass ring, ain't it? You've been on the merry-go-round for six or eight years and you finally grab hold of the brass ring, a sucker. At last you got yourself a sucker. Why, you're mad, ain't you, Duke? I've never seen you look like that. Why, sure. That's it, ain't it? You're in love with me and you're jealous. Past tense, baby. Not now. Not anymore. Too bad, Duke. My heart belongs to Bundy. If you're ever in a shipwreck, give me a buzz, will you, babe? I'll torch you an anchor. With the prologue of the brass ring, the Signal Oil Company brings you another strange tale by the Whistler. If you've lived out west any length of time, you know that Signal Gasoline is famous as the go-farther gasoline. And if you've noticed Signal's recent magazine, newspaper, and billboard advertising, you know that you now go farther than ever with today's Signal Gasoline. Well, what does this all mean to you? Economy, yes. But even more than that, it means extra performance from your car. For in gasoline, it takes extra quality to go farther. Now let me make that point clear. When science employed the modern magic of catalytic cracking to put amazing new power into today's Signal Gasoline, they naturally gave you quicker starting, faster pickup, and quieter, higher antinock. And it's because of this, because Signal's increased power helps your motor perform more efficiently, that you now go farther than ever with Signal Gasoline. That's why Signal says, look to your speedometer for the best proof of gasoline quality. It takes extra quality to go farther. Good reason why so many wise drivers are switching to Signal, the famous go-farther gasoline. Now, back to the Whistler. So you grabbed the brass ring, didn't you babe? And Mr. Bundy came through nobly with the legal arrangements, something about the marriage of six months in Connecticut as Mrs. Bundy to demonstrate good faith, of your freedom to do what you please after that, with a solid feeling that the money set up for you in trust by Mr. Bundy will be all yours in the event of his death. That's all babe, six tedious months with Mr. Bundy. Of course it seemed like six years, but it had to come to an end sometime. I can't give you, da da da da da da. Your dear. Don't bother me, I'm busy packing. What do you mean packing? We're going to the Williamsons darling. Just for the day, there's no packing to be done. You're going to the Williamsons Charles, not me. Now go away Ron, I'm busy. Where are you going? You didn't really think it would work, did you Charles? What wouldn't work? I came through with my end of the bargain, six months, I don't want any more. Why kid yourself, I'm not Mrs. Charles Bundy, it just ain't there. I'm babe Logan, remember? You haven't given it a try. Oh, what do you think I've been doing for six months, twiddling my thumb? Oh now you've got to be reasonable, Georgette. It takes time. The trouble, time, it's precious, you've got to be careful with it. If you're not, you wake up some morning and find yourself pushing forty and out of a job. That's why I'm going back. Where are you going? Tell me. Back to the drafty tents, the smell of damp sawdust, cat calls, wolf whistles. You're not serious. Just try and stop me Charles, try. I won't let you. They'll laugh at me. They'll all laugh at me. With your dough, let them. Listen Charles, I don't want to hurt you honest. I want to let you down easy. I'm not Connecticut and I never will be. I'm a carnival girl, I belong there in a sideshow. With a guy like Duke to make the pitch for me, see? I'll beat it, will ya? I got a pack. It'll work, Georgette. Really it will. You've got to give me another chance. I said I'm going. All right then, I'm going with you. You'll get tired of it after a few days. You're different now. Hello Charles. I'm not going to let you walk out of my life, Georgette. I'll do just what I did before. What do you mean? I want you near me, that's all. You change your mind and I won't get in your way. I'll just stand around and be there, just like before. Can you tie that, Duke? The guy just won't listen to me. I tell him over and over again. And he's still out there, night after night, looking up at you with that earnest face of his. The poor sucker. I don't know that I like that crack. Don't hand me that baby. You took him for a ride now that you got that paper in your safe deposit box. What, Duke? You don't care what happens to him. Well you don't have to make it worse. You don't have to keep letting him into the show. Why not? Pays his dough, five bucks, and keep the change. Ah, it gives me the creeps. Every show, there he is in the first row, waiting for me at the door when I go home. I guess you'll have to figure that one out for yourself. Maybe I will. Yes, there were strings on that brass ring when the babe. It's not quite as easy to drop Mr. Bundy as it was to pick him up. And all you have to do is look into those earnest, pleading eyes of his to realize it'll go on as long as he lives. Night after night, day after day, as long as he lives. You wish there were some other way, don't you babe? It'll be a shame to have to kill him. It comes to a climax on Monday night as you leave by the stage entrance after your nine o'clock show. He's there waiting for you as usual. And it's right then that you decide it can't go on any longer. Monday night, a quiet night at the carnival. As good a night as any. Hello, Georgette. Charles. How long till your next show? Oh, about thirty minutes, would you? Would you like to take a walk around the grounds? Why, why of course. I'd be delighted. These roller coasters. I used to love them. Haven't been on one for years. You know, this might be hard for you to believe, but I haven't either. That is odd. Sky ride, a tunnel of love. Used to scare me to death. Let's try it, Dave. What do you say? Uh-uh, you gotta watch your blood pressure. Oh, so that's what you're thinking. I'm too old for you. Oh, don't be silly. Come on, let's win a cupid doll or something. No, I insist. The sky ride. Too high for me. I'd just as soon stay on the ground. Now who's afraid? Too old, am I? Well, we'll see about that. Are you game? All right, Charles. I'm game. Here we are. No, no, let's take the last seat, huh? I feel better if I can see people ahead of me. Still nervous, huh? Come on, here's the last seat. Better take your hat off, Charles. Keep your safety belt buckle, please. Hold your hats. Keep your safety belt buckle, please. Here we go. We're off. I don't know whether I'm gonna like this or not. Look at that. Heel ahead. George, I feel like a kid again. Is your safety belt hitched? Sure. Look down there. No, thanks. I got scared. Go ahead. No, I don't wanna. Hold on. Here we go. Yeah! Oh, boy, what a thrill. Yeah, only your stomach stayed back at the ticket office. I used to go around with a guy who was awfully foolhardy. You know what he used to do? Can't imagine. What? Well, he used to unhitch the belt and stand up right at the top of the hill just before you go down. Oh, what's so unusual about that? Well, awful. Dangerous, don't you think? Oh, oh, oh, what a... See what I mean? I don't think it's so dangerous. What? Oh, don't be a fool, Charles. He was young. Why, he could do anything. Oh, I still think I'm an old fogey, huh? Well, watch this. Where goes the belt? Charles, we're almost at the top. Get down. Get down. How's this? Oh, my hand! Where? Over the side. Grab it. Look out. Don't push me. Don't push me. Oh, he fell out! He fell out! All right, Mrs. Bundy. All right. So it was an accident. It was just a mighty peculiar accident, that's all. Listen, you dumb flatfoot, I gave you the straight stuff. And if you think you can sit back and make a lot of nasty... Sit down, babe. That goes for you too, Drew. I said sit down. Okay, okay, I'll sit down. But I'm not gonna take any more... Just a minute, babe. Sorry, Sergeant. The dame's a little high strung. Quite a jolt, you know, losing her only husband that way. Yeah, I guess it was. You can skip all that stuff about peculiar accidents. I'm sorry, Mrs. Bundy. That's the way it's going on the record. Peculiar that the money goes to you on your husband's death. Peculiar that he decided to take you on the rollercoaster... the first time he'd been on one in 20 years. Peculiar you picked the last seat. Peculiar his safety belt happened to be unbuckled. All right. So what? So we leave it there. No proof. Nothing else we can do. By the way, the passenger three seats ahead of you... happened to turn around just as you hit the top of the hill. What do you mean? He saw your husband a second after he fell. Oh. Too bad he didn't turn around a second sooner. That's all, Mrs. Bundy. You can go. So it's over now. All over. Mr. Bundy has gone for good and the brass ring is yours to keep. You ought to be able to relax now. Get back in the swing. Work 10 shows a day to pass the time until the probate is complete... and the money arrives. It's smarter to keep right on working as if nothing had happened. No use exciting any more suspicion, is there, babe? You can't decide whether or not it's imagination... but it seems as if they all suspect you. Your friends along the midway are noticeably cooler... more distant since the accident. But it doesn't matter now. The brass ring is yours. You can tell them all where to get off. Then you suddenly realize it isn't over after all. Two weeks later, just before the nine o'clock show... Duke comes into your dressing room. Yeah? Duke. I ought to be flattered, I guess. What's the matter, we pals again? Take it off, babe. Take what off? The chip on your shoulder. I ain't looking for a fight. You're smart. Ain't easy for a broken down vaudeville ham to find a job these days. And in a couple of weeks you might be working for me. Wonderful. What's so funny? Don't look now, baby, but your conscience has shown. Why, you... Listen, sweetheart, don't blow up on me. I'm the only friend you got left. You're just like all the rest of them, you and your smart. Forget it, will you? Maybe it was an accident, maybe it wasn't. I'm still working the show, ain't I? What do you want? What'd you come here for? I got something that might interest you, kid. There was a guy out there at the last show. Looks like he's gonna take up where Mr. Bundy left off. What do you mean? Can't figure it out. Pays five bucks for a ticket and tells me to keep the change. Sat in the same seat Bundy had. What is it? What's he want? I don't know. Thought maybe you might. Oh, by the way, the guy's out there now waiting for the next show. That's all, babe. Just thought I'd drop by and give you something to think about. You see him there when you go on for the next show. Sitting in the same front row seat Mr. Bundy used to occupy. And you wish Duke hadn't said anything about it. You might not have noticed him for a while, anyway. He's much younger and almost good looking. But he never smiles. Just sits there as you go through your dance. Never applauding or whistling like the others. Just sitting there. Watching. Watching. He's there the next day and the next. The same cold stare. The same expression. You try and ignore it, but it just won't work, will it, babe? You have a pretty good idea why he's there. And you know there'll be a showdown sooner or later. Might as well be now. Hey. Hey, you down there. Me? Yeah, you. Come here a minute. Okay. This way. Hey, you. What's the matter? I'm not going to tell you the truth. I'm going to tell you the truth. I'm going to tell you the truth. You know, you know, I'm going to tell you the truth. I'm going to tell you the truth. Now, who are you, mister? My name is Woody. You're a cop, ain't you? What makes you think I'm a cop? You've been in that same seat six days in a row now. Five shows a day. That makes 30 times you've seen the show, right? I like the act. Nobody likes it that much, mister. I'm satisfied. I'm not. Get it? No. It's easy. I don't want to look down at that seat and see the great stone face anymore. I know a good way to get rid of me. Yeah? Go for a ride on the roller coaster? That's a pretty stupid approach, even for a flat foot. Didn't you see the report, officer? Did you look it up in the files? Accident it says. Big black letters. Accident. Now get out of here, you... Wait a minute, babe. Hey, keep it down. Will you have everybody outside? Oh, it's you. Get him out of here, Duke. What's the matter, pal? The lady wants to get rid of me. She'd leave forever if she'd do me a little favor. Yeah? What's that? Take a ride with me on the roller coaster? Oh? That what made you blow up, babe? Get rid of him. I don't want to see him anymore, understand? Why don't you want to take a ride on the roller coaster, babe? You think so, too, don't you? You think I killed him. What are you blowing up for if you didn't? What's there about the roller coaster? Get you down. So... All right, Mr. Detective. I'll show you. Come by after the last show tonight and we'll take your ride. Next car loading. How many, please? I'll take them all. My girl and I want to be alone this trip. Ha-ha-ha. I get it. That'll be four bucks. Well, is that a big enough drop for you? Oh, so-so. That's a big one up ahead. Yeah. That means along about here is where you unhitched his safety belt. Skip it, will you? That won't get you anywhere. Right about here, wasn't it, babe? Right here? He did it himself. I tell you, he was showing off. You killed him. I didn't kill him. He stood up and he tripped. He didn't trip. You pushed him. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha. Are you stupid? You thought this would make me talk? I thought there was more brains in the police force than... Oh, wait a minute. You can't slap me. The police have nothing to do with this, babe. Charles Bundy was my father. He never said anything about... Doesn't matter if you talk or not, babe. Not depending on the law anymore. You see, I'm gonna kill you. Take your hands off me. You safety belt. There. No, no, you can't. You can't. Sometimes the law doesn't work, babe. Sometimes a man has to take things in his own hands. I said let go of me. You cheap, chiseling tramp. You wanted his money, didn't you? You had that in the back of your mind right from the first. Listen to me, Woody. Please. You're going over, babe, just the way he did. Oh, no. Come through, back. Jump. Ah! The Whistler will return in just a moment with the strange ending of tonight's story. You know, the proof of the pudding, they say, is in the eating. And the proof of the service you get at dealer-owned signal gasoline stations is, after all, in what actual customers say about it. That's why we're so happy to receive letters such as this one from Mrs. Leon F. Marsh of Berkeley, California, who wrote, During a recent trip which took me from Berkeley as far south as Calexico on the Mexican border, I met with courtesy from every signal dealer with whom I traded. Especially, I want to commend Harvey Nathanson of 4400 Beverly Boulevard, Hollywood, whose service was both prompt and complete in every detail. I never had to request that my windshield be wiped or my tires checked. Others and many other services were done automatically and with a smile. It's men like Harvey Nathanson who make trading with independent signal dealers a pleasure. Mrs. Marsh, on behalf of my sponsor, Signal Oil Company, I want to take this opportunity to thank you and the many other kind drivers who have dropped me a line, telling of their experiences with signal products or of little extra services you have enjoyed at dealer-owned signal stations. It's letters like yours that make independent signal dealers want to do an even better job of helping today's cars run better and last longer. Now, back to the Whistler. So, the career of Babe Logan, carnival dancer, came to an end. It was a sensational ending, of course. Barker's, pitchman, performers, all of her colleagues gathered around the broken body lying among the timber supports, all talking at once, not in guarded whispers anymore, but openly of the suspicion, the terrible doubt that hung over the midway like a cloud after the first accident a few weeks before. And after the second accident, Duke had to change his pitch a little, not much, just a little. You've seen her do that dance. What a dance, folks, what a dance. Just like the one with the seven paddles. Only this little lady throws away six of them before she starts. Yes, she starts right in with number seven. You've got to see Millie, folks. Millie, the girl with a million thrills. Step right up, folks. Yes, now that Babe was gone, there was a new attraction in Duke's tent, an ambitious young redhead named Millie. And at that very moment, a few blocks away at police headquarters, Sergeant Case had changed his approach too. There's no use going over it all again. We've been through it before. But it was an accident. He tried to push me, he slipped. I was the one who was supposed to go out on that roller coaster. Sure, sure, you were supposed to go out, but you didn't. He fell, just like his father did two months ago. Both of them accidents, huh? Can I help that? It was an accident. Maybe, maybe. Maybe they were, Babe, but you don't really think a jury is going to believe that, do you? No. No, I guess you're right. They'd never believe me now. Next Monday at 9 o'clock, The Whistler will bring you another strange tale. 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. And in tonight's program were Dora Singleton and Eddie Marr. This program, directed by George W. Allen, based on a story by David Gillespie, music by Wilbur Hatch, is transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. That whistle is your signal for the signal oil program, The Whistler. This is Dick Wells speaking, reminding you to look for those familiar yellow and black circle signs that identify those popular signal oil stations throughout the West from Canada to Mexico. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
