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 shadow. Yeah, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. Yes, friends, it's time for the signal oil program, the Whistler. Rated by independent research, the most popular West Coast program. In gasoline, you know, it takes extra quality to go farther. And signal is the famous go farther gasoline. So look for the signal circle sign in yellow and black that identifies signal service stations from Canada to Mexico. And now the Whistler's strange story, the murder of Byron Blake. It was well past the lunch hour and the little restaurant on 56th Street was almost deserted, except for the corner table near the window where Julie Lane and Gus Hackett sat over a pair of coffee cups. Julie. Yes? How about some dessert? No, no thanks, Gus. Oh, you better eat something. You didn't touch your lunch. I don't feel like eating. Sorry, but... Five star final, D.A.S. death penalty for killer of Byron Blake. Gus. Yeah, yeah, of course. Waiter. Yes, sir. The window, would you mind? Oh, yes, sir, right away. Thanks, Gus, thanks. How about some more coffee? No, I'm sorry, I can't. I could use a cigarette. Oh, sure, sure. Here you are. Thanks. You feel any better? I guess so. You do understand, Gus. I'm sorry to be... Oh, of course I understand, darling. I don't feel much like talking. I just want to be quiet, think a little. And Julie Lane had a lot to think about. She was grateful for the quiet of the little restaurant. But somehow, even though the waiter had closed the window behind her, those headlines still were howling to her brain. Yes, Julie Lane had a lot to think about. For all though it was really Leo Sanders' story, Julie had been very near the center of it from the moment Leo had come back into her life. It had been at a New York party with all the trimmings, the penthouse, the theater crowd, the talented youngster from the New Review doing impersonations near the piano. And the party had just started to warm up when Leo got there. He stopped in the ante room and adjusted his tie before he went in. And glancing at himself appreciatively in the hall mirror, he decided that no one can look more prosperous than an actor who's out of work. Then Leo opened the door and the first person he ran into was Julie. Julie! Julie Langmeyer! Let me look at you. I'm a nice old singer now. Left the Langmeyer back in St. Louis. Well, what is it? Julie Lane, Julie Lane. What are you doing in New York? No, beating the pavement, looking for a job. Theater? What else? Any luck? Yeah, had to get me a secretary. Keeps a busy day and night just turning down the offers. You couldn't leave me half two bits for coffee and cigarettes, could you? Leo, you haven't changed a bit. Not since St. Louis. Yeah, St. Louis. Who are you here with? Gus Hackett. Who? Gus Hackett, the agent. You mean the Gus Hackett? Why not? Julie, darling, you have become suddenly the most glamorous woman I ever met in my life. Shall we adjourn to the terrace? Please, Leo, not right now. Come on, I just want to talk over old times. That's just it. That's all behind us now, Leo. I'd rather we let it... Great, I'll have to carry you out there bodily then. No other answer. All right, Leo, but just for a minute, huh? Really, Leo, I'd better go back now. Gus is probably wondering where I am. Well, that's no reason at all. You're afraid of me, aren't you, Julie? Yes, I suppose I am. Why? Is it important? Very important. I... I don't want it to happen again, Leo. St. Louis? Yeah, St. Louis. I found a new life for myself, new friends. You still love me, Julie. Why won't you admit it? I don't know, Leo. I'm so confusing you're coming back this way. It can be just the way it was. I'm different now, darling. I've learned a lot. You can help me, you know. Hackett's the biggest agent in the business. If you could get him behind me, I... Well, there's no end to what we could do together. Wait, you go right to the top. It's not just that. There's something else, Leo. I don't want to talk about it now. Julie? Oh, Gus. Gus, I want you to meet an old friend. This is Leo Sanders. Glad to know you. We knew each other in St. Louis. I see. Julie, Pat Hoffman's downstairs. You better run out and say the right things. Pat, but he told me... He's on his way up. Go on now, hurry. Excuse me, Leo. I'm sorry, Mr. Sanders. I suppose she told you about Hoffman. She started to say something. Queer guy. He runs the nightclub where she works. Decided he's going to marry her. I see. I'm afraid you don't. You've known her a long time, huh? We went to high school with her. We went around together when I first started out on the stage. Oh, you're an actor? Yes. Matter of fact, I've been trying to make an appointment with you for over a month. Finished up a nice run with Fallen Star on the road. Sanders, do you mind if we don't talk business tonight? I guess I got the jitters or something. Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Oh, sure, sure. I've told her again and again about that Hoffman character. I don't know where it's going to end up. That bad? Oh, worse. Look, I'll talk to Julie about you. If she says you're OK, it's great with me. Maybe we can work out something. That's all I can say right now. But that's enough, isn't it, Leo? A word to hack it from Julie and the door is open. Wide open for you to walk in and take what you've wanted for so long. Broadway, Leo, and your name up there in the brightest light of all. And all your dear old friends who said you'd never make the big time, looking on with envy. Of course, it all depends on Julie. So to keep her memory of those days back in St. Louis alive, you drop into the florist shop next evening. Yes, sir? I'll take a dozen of those American Beauty roses, the ones in the window. All right, sir. Send them to Julie Lane at the parakeet club on West 58th Street. Do you wish to include a card? No, I'll deliver the message myself. Hello, Julie. Leo, what are you... Oh, didn't you get my flowers? I didn't know they were yours, they're lovely, Leo. But you shouldn't have... What's the matter, darling? Something wrong? You shouldn't have come here, Leo. Why not? The show's over. Had a guy come backstage to see his girl once in a while. I can't explain. Now, please go, Leo. I can see you after. No, that's no way to act. Come here. Leo. Don't lie to me, Julie. It's still the same, isn't it? Just like it used to be. I... I don't know, Leo. Julie. Julie, darling. Please go now. I'll meet you somewhere afterwards. You've got to understand. Julie. Who's that? I'm not quite ready, Pat. Just a minute. Hurry up. Get behind that screen over there. Huh? What kind of... Please, darling. But this is stupid. You're of age. You do as I say. All right, Julie. Yes, Pat? What is it? I just wanted to tell you it's all set. What's all set? Tomorrow night. I arranged for Lorraine to do your spot so you and I can take the night off and... Wait a minute. What's this? Oh, the flowers. I meant to tell you... Who's sending you flowers? He's just a friend, Pat. You didn't answer my question, Julie. Who is he? I don't think it's any of your business. If I want to have... Don't give me that. I'm tired of it, Julie. I told you before I wasn't going to take any more. All right, Pat, you don't have to take any more. I don't need this job. I don't need you. I'm not a child. Pat, you've no right... Shut up! And get this, Julie. You're staying here with me whether you want it or not. And you can tell your friend if he makes another pass at you. I'll kill him. That's all. Now get into your things. I'll have the car ready for you in 15 minutes. Leo. Well, I see what you mean. Nice guy, isn't he? Why did you walk out? I'm afraid of him, Leo. He'd do anything. What about us? I don't know. You've got to fix me up with Gus Hackett. Leo, I tell you... You love me, Julie. It's going to mean everything to... to both of us. All right, Leo. I'll call Gus. I'll make an appointment for you. With the prologue of the murder of Byron Blake, the Signal Oil Company brings you another strange story. By the Whistler. But now for just a moment. Suppose this were a quiz program and you were asked the question, what gasoline is famous as the Go-Farther gasoline? What would the winning answer be? Well, if you've lived out West any length of time, you know that from Canada to Mexico, Signal is the famous Go-Farther gasoline. Now naturally, we're mighty proud of that reputation. But even more so, we're proud of what makes Signal's mileage possible. You see, you get those quick signal starts, that fast signal pickup and smooth knock-free signal power, because Signal helps your engine run more efficiently. And naturally, the more efficiently your motor runs, the more mileage you get. That's why Signal says your speedometer is the best yardstick of gasoline quality. Check yours and you'll find it's true. In gasoline, it does take extra quality to go farther. And of course, Signal is the famous Go-Farther gasoline. And now back to the Whistler. A nice girl, Julie Lane, isn't she, Leo? You're busy now thinking of the good things that can come out of running into her again at that New York party. Of course, you have to be careful of her boss, Pat Hoffman. When he said he'd kill anyone he caught hanging around Julie, he meant every word of it. But first things first, Leo. Before anything else, you've got to take advantage of the opportunity Julie gave you with her good friend, Gus Hackett, the actor's agent. A few days later, you enter his office to keep the appointment she arranged. It was certainly nice of you to see me, Mr. Hackett. Not at all, Sanders. Sit down. Thanks. Tell me about yourself. Well, I started in stock in St. Louis. I went on the road with the second company of Pretty Boy. Had 16 weeks of that. And then of course, there was the usual summer theater work. I brought along some clippings. Oh, good, good. There's one review there I'm rather proud of. A guy in Seattle thought I did all right with the lead in Primrose. It's that one, right there. A standout performance by a bright young newcomer, Leo Sanders, was well received by an otherwise restless audience. Sanders showed strong presence and a genuine understanding of Mr. Carter's principal character. Ah, it's okay. Of course, that's all Bush League stuff to you, Mr. Hackett. Ah, they all have to start someplace, Sanders. Don't let it worry you. As a matter of fact, the thing I have in mind calls for an unknown. Oh? It's Mel Franklin's new play. He'll be casting in about a week. Mel Franklin? Oh, that'll be quite a break. From what he told me about it, there's a good chance you might be what he's looking for. Well, of course, Mr. Hackett, you know I've only done leads. I'm talking about the lead. Well, it's a little hard to believe Franklin would take a chance on an unknown. Mel has quite a few ideas about this part. Above all, he wants someone who isn't identified with any other characterization. I see. It's that kind of a part. The play might suffer if the audience associated the actor with the wrong kind of things. Which brings up something else, Sanders. What do you mean? Your background. There were a few clippings you didn't save, right? Well, now, wait a minute. Look, has Julie been telling you about... Julie hasn't been telling me anything, except how confident you are. No Sanders have found these things out of my own hook. It's a practice of mine in taking on any new client. And just what have you found out? Well, let's say it wasn't entirely breaks that have held you back. I understand you got out of hand a few times. Never anything serious, Mr. Hackett. That hit and run charge in Duluth was serious enough. You served time for it. Well, yes, but... And there were at least half a dozen towns in the Midwest where you've been in one kind of trouble or another. That temperament routine doesn't go anymore, you know. All right, Mr. Hackett, but I don't see what it has to do with... In this case, everything. I just want us to understand one another, that's all. Now, in dealing with Franklin, I'll do the talking. I understand, Mr. Hackett. And, uh, well, I appreciate this even more. No, don't thank me. Thank Julie Lane. I intend to. She's a wonderful girl, Sanders. I... I guess I'd do almost anything for her. I understand, Mr. Hackett. I hope you do. She's very fond of you, you know. I wouldn't want to see her hurt. Of course not. All right, Sanders, I'll arrange that tryout. Be at the 56th Street Theater at 10 tomorrow morning. MUSIC And that's all there is to it, Leo. It took Julie five minutes to do what you failed to accomplish in three months. You know how important she is now, that as long as she believes you're in love with her, anything is possible. You arrive at the theater early the next morning, sit by yourself in the wing studying the play script that Franklin placed in your hand. An hour or two later, you're going through it with the leading lady. And as you read, you can see Franklin and Hackett alone in that sea of empty seats beyond the glare of the footlights. Think for a minute, Mary. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt your father. But please consider my position. You're taking it too seriously. Too seriously? Mary, and those people are counting on me. They believed in me when they voted me into office. Politics makes certain things necessary, Daisy. If they make it necessary for me to turn into a cheat and a liar, then I want no part of it. MUSIC As you read the lines, you're aware of the two of them sitting out there watching and listening. You try to concentrate on the part, but can't help wondering what they're thinking, what sort of impression you're making on Mel Franklin. And then, as you finish a scene, Hackett waves for you to stop. The two of them put their heads together, talking earnestly, and you sit on the stage, waiting, wishing you could hear. Well, what do you think, Mel? Well, the guy's good, guys. Is he in? Well, I don't know. Had another actor in mind. I'd still like to listen to him. But it's between him and Sanders, huh? Yes, I think I can promise you that, Mr. Allgood enough. Except that I think Sanders is right. Sure, sure. He did a good job for first reading. Only... Well, Gus, I've heard things about him. I understand that he... That's all in the past, Mel. I can promise you that. Yes, but this part has to be a clean-cut guy or the thing will fall flat on its face. I wouldn't worry. You heard him, Mel. He's really an actor. And you may have something, Gus. Let me think it over. Okay, but you got a chance to hit on this one, Mel. Don't let a few rumors spoil it for you. Well, how did it go, Mr. Hackett? Did Franklin say anything? Looks good, Leo. But what did he say? I hope you told him I wasn't at my best and after all, first reading... Relax, I told him just enough. And I still want you to stay away from him. Give him time to make up his mind. Make up his mind? You mean he's... He mentioned having somebody else he wanted to hear, but you just do as I say and it's going to work out. I'm sure of it. I hope you're right, Mr. Hackett. I couldn't mess with a part like that. I know. But all we can do now is just wait and see. Look, I got to make a quick trip out to Hollywood. But what about... Just sit tight. I'll be in touch with Mel and if anything breaks, I'll call Julie. Okay. And another thing, Leo. Be a good boy, will you? You never dreamed it could happen so fast, did you, Leo? Yes. In a matter of days now, you'll know one way or the other. The waiting isn't easy, but Gus Hackett seems so confident, so sure. It's three nights later that you pick up a rumor in the bar and hurry directly to Julie's apartment. Well, Leo. Good, I've got you ready, Juan. What time is it? Five after seven. It might not be too late. Craig Wallace is on the air now. I just heard he might have a tip on the cast of Franklin's play. How would he know before we do? Well, he's supposed to be an old pal of Mel Franklin's. Oh. Your New York reporter, Craig Wallace, bringing you bits of show news, picked up along the Broadway. Might be just like Gus to let us get the good news over the radio. First off, I can confirm those rumors that have been flying concerning a split up between actress Sandra LaBernier and the other people breaking up. That isn't always shown, then. And on the subject of new shows, I promised to have something about the stars of Mel Franklin's later opus. That's it. Mel has picked a newcomer this time for the leading role opposite Broadway's own Vivian Marks. Needless to say, he'll probably be around for a long time. When Mel Franklin picks him, they're usually nothing short of sensational. And so, Mr. and Mrs. Manhattan, here it is. The man who will play the lead in Mel Franklin's new play is Byron Blake. What? Wait, Leo, don't turn it off. Why not, Julie? Byron Blake, I don't understand it. Are you sure, Julie? Are you sure you don't understand it? What do you mean? It must be nice, darling. I had no idea you were so clever. What are you talking about? I seem to remember something you said once in St. Louis. Something about evening the score sooner or later. You just kid. This has nothing to do with that. Anything I might have said is just what you don't understand. Go ahead. Watch me squirm. Isn't that what you wanted? Too bad Gus Hackett isn't here to laugh with you. Leo, stop it. You don't know what you're saying. Why? Why, I never heard of this, this Byron Blake. Leo, you've got to believe me. You've got to, Leo. Darling, it's just the same. Just the way it was in St. Louis. Oh, actually. I believe him. Tony, it isn't the same. It's gone now. Everything. Everything? I dreamed a lot of dreams, Julie. There isn't much fun waking up like this. So long, kid. Leo, please, where are you going? Do me a favor, will you? Just pretend I never walked into the party that night. It's all over. Yes, Leo, it's all over. You tell that to yourself again and again as you leave Julie and aimlessly walk the street. It's even worse now than before you ran into her at that party. Coming so close, having a dream in the palm of your hand, then watching it vanish in a casual remark from a radio commentator. Yes, there are only two of you, Leo. And tomorrow they'll all tell you it was close. That it was a hard choice between you and this Byron Blake. And you'll smile politely and say, thanks anyway. And step back to where you were three months ago when you first came to New York. An hour later you find yourself standing in front of a florist shop, looking at a basket of American Beauty roses in the window. Vaguely remember it's the place you stopped a week ago and bought the roses for Julie. The night Pat Hoffman said he'd kill the man who sent them. Suddenly you find yourself tense, your mind going a mile a minute. Just a minute. Sorry, mister, closing up. But I want some flowers. Too late, buddy. She'll have to wait till tomorrow. Look, I've got to have them. Those roses, I want two dozen. Two dozen American Beauties? Well, never too late to make a sale like that. Come on inside. You've got two dozen? Sure. What about delivery? There's ten bucks in it if you can deliver them tonight. Oh, I guess I could take care of it on my way home. Time. I want you to take them to the parakeet club. I know the spot. See that Pat Hoffman, the manager, gets them. He'll know who they're for. Okay. What about a card? Yes, I want a card in them. Just put, to Julie, with all my love. Uh-huh. And sign it, Byron Blake. The Whistler will return in just a moment with a strange ending to tonight's story. Meantime, a word about the extra something you get when you have your car lubricated at a dealer-owned signal gasoline station. You see, signal dealers, being in business for themselves, do go out of their way to give you the kind of job they're proud to stand back on. It's why, for instance, they take no chances on memory when they lubricate your car. Instead, they check against Signal's factory-recommended lubrication chart, which shows every lubrication point on your car. And they use nine specialized signal oils and greases, so each part will have the exact type of protection it needs. What, do they stop there? No, sir. Just to make doubly sure not a single part has been overlooked, they check each point again, which is why it's called Signal Double Check Lubrication. Now, that's the kind of lube service you want if your car is to give you the long, trouble-free service that was built into it. And that's the kind of lubrication you get from your friendly, dealer-owned signal service station. And now, back to the Whistler. Yes, Julie Lane had a lot to think about on that afternoon she and Gus Hackett sat in the little restaurant on 56th Street, with the newsboys outside shouting of the murder of a New York actor named Byron Blake. It had been a terrible two days, and she told the story so many times to so many police officials that it didn't seem to make sense anymore. But the worst was over now. At least the killer had had the kindness to plead guilty and there'd be no trial. It was natural, though, that as she and Gus sat there, her mind kept going back to Leo. Or although the headlines, the gossip, even the police records might say something else, to Julie, it would always be Leo's story. Gus. Yes, Julie. Gus, I'm sorry I had to drag you through all this before I could come to my senses. I think it was worth it. I do love you, Kurt. I guess it's been that way all along. It's kind of hard to believe, Julie. You know, I thought it was all over that night Leo came back. I guess I should have known. Strange, isn't it? The guy signs his own death warrant and the papers call it a tragedy. Leo was a heel, Julie. Worse than that, he was a murderer. He knew when he sent those roses exactly what Hoffman would do. That's what's so wrong about it. Hoffman wasn't the murderer, he was the weapon. Maybe we, we better forget it. I'm sorry. I guess I just got to get it off my chest. Somehow I feel responsible. Oh, I know, but... But Leo would still be alive right now if I hadn't dreamed up that way of covering his past by giving him the stage name of Byron Blake. Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program, The Whistler, each Monday at 9, brought to you by the Signal Oil Company, marketers of signal gasoline and motor oil, and fine quality automotive accessories. Signal has asked me to remind you to get the most driving pleasure, drive at sensible speeds, be courteous, and obey traffic regulations. And may save a life, possibly your own. Featured in tonight's story were Betty Lou Gerson and Tom Collins. The Whistler was produced by George W. Allen, based on a story by Gene Fromherz, music by Wilbur Hatch, and transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. This is Marvin Miller speaking for the Signal Oil Company. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
