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 signal oil program, the Whistler. Rated tops in popularity for a longer period of time than any other west coast program in radio history. And signal gasoline is tops too, tops in quality. It takes extra quality, you know, to give you extra mileage. And signal is the famous go farther gasoline. So look for the signal circle sign in yellow and black that identifies independently operated signal stations from Canada to Mexico. And now the Whistler's strange story. Hired alibi. The dry desert heat that enveloped the highway seemed to add to the pressure and anguish tormenting the lone man in the swiftly moving automobile. Paul Burns' hurry trip to Los Angeles had proved useless. There wasn't a chance of escape for him now. And he was forced to drive back and face his wife, Edith, tell her that he had failed. If only there was a way out, someone he could turn to, to talk it all over and perhaps somehow find a way. Hey, hey, how about a left? Huh? Oh. Thanks, friend. Almost didn't see you. Out here, I got things on my mind. That's probable. When you're driving with the sun on your face, it's sometimes hard to see anything but the white ribbon in the road. How far are you going? Flagstaff. And 50 miles north. I'll get out of Flagstaff. All right. It's warm for this time of the year, isn't it? Yeah, the weather's warm. As for what happened in the election, I'll agree with you. That's how I pay for my ride, isn't it? Are you talking? No. It isn't necessary. I just thought... Go on. Pick a subject. Only keep it down to my level. Since you seem to limit yourself, perhaps you should decide. Okay. Women, sports, towns, automobiles. All right. Automobiles will do. Yes, Paul. It's good to have someone to talk to. Only your interest is not in the relative performance of various automobiles. But in this young man himself. He's rough and hard, but oddly handsome. And as you drive along, you begin to speculate about him. Wonder vaguely if you haven't seen him somewhere before. And suddenly it comes to you, Paul, and you tense with excitement. If it's true, it can change a lot of things, can't it? Yes. But you've got to be sure. Something wrong? No. I just noticed I'm out of cigarettes. I thought I'd pull in at that cafe up ahead. Oh, sure. Would you mind running in for me? Hey, look, you sure you're not just tired of my company, maybe? Of course not. Here. Get it packed for yourself. Thanks. Thanks. I'll do that. You wait nervously, Paul, until he disappears into the little roadside cafe. Then immediately you turn around and pick up the newspaper on the back seat. His picture stares up at you from a newspaper dated early in the week. Norbella. He's Joe Norbella. Yes, Paul. Your hitchhiking friend is Joe Norbella, a fugitive, wanted by the Los Angeles police for killing a theater manager during a holdup. You hide the paper in the back and force yourself to relax as Joe comes back and climbs into the car. There you are. Thanks. Here's a change. Light? Sure. Thanks. Okay. What do you do for a living, son? Odd jobs. I like to keep on the move. You said you were going east. Any particular spot? No particular spot. I bet you wouldn't like where I live. Okay, I'll play. Why? I'm Paul Burns, general manager of the Silver Canyon Mine. Am I supposed to be impressed? No, no. Just my way of explaining why we're tucked away up in the hills. You would like that, would you? Wouldn't I? You're a young man. You'd probably find it very dull. Probably. The population of the town nearby is about 600. Called Silver, but we refer to it as Hermit's Heaven. That's nice. We're so far off the main highway, we have hardly any contact with the outside world. I've heard of worse places. You wouldn't be interested in going to work for me. Pays very good. Yeah? I'll even throw in living quarters. You would, huh? Yeah. You'd be sort of an all-around handyman. It's difficult getting young fellows to work in another way placed like a silver mine. Yeah, I guess it is. I don't blame them. Working up there is next to disappearing. But it's 75 a week to start with. 75, huh? What do you say? What is your name, by the way? Joe. Joe Webster. Well, Joe, how about it? All right. You got a deal, Mr. Burns. When do I start? As soon as we get there. And Joe? Yeah? I think this is going to work out fine for both of us. Just fine. With the prologue of Hired Alibi, the Signal Oil Company brings you another strange story by The Whistler. If you're one of those folks who like to carry a pocket calendar, you're probably wondering where you're going to get your new one for next year. Well, worry no more, because your signal dealer is now offering free the neatest little pocket calendar you've ever seen. These signal pocket calendars are just the right size to fit in a man's wallet or a milady's handbag. They're made of moisture-proof plastic, so the numbers will stay legible, and the edges won't fray from wear. And they're printed in attractive colors, with all the holidays indicated in red. Of course, like all good things, they'll no doubt go in a hurry. So if you want one of these signal pocket calendars, I'd suggest that you stop in for yours soon. Remember, they're free. And remember where? At your nearest signal service station. And now back to The Whistler. It was a strange meeting, wasn't it, Paul? Two men brought together on a lonely Arizona highway, you and Joe Norbella. Joe, a fugitive who tells you that his name is Joe Webster, and that he'll be happy to take a job at the mine you operate. It all fits together, doesn't it, Paul? Making a pattern of escape for you, a simple but clever one. And all you have to do is be careful, not let Joe become suspicious. It's almost one o'clock in the morning when you turn off the highway. Wave to the guard as you drive through the gates of the mine property and up to the house. Joe seems more relaxed now, doesn't he? But you know that you must be patient, go easy. And you try to be casual as you lead him into the house and back through the hall to the guest room. I hope you'll find this comfortable. Yeah, yeah, looks fine. We'll talk about your job in the morning. It's late and I don't want to wake the family. Sure. Well, good night, Joe. Just make yourself at home. Edith. Edith, wake up. Hmm? What? Oh, oh, you're back, Paul. Yes. Did you get the money? No, John didn't have it. Fine, brother. He didn't have it, that's all. Don't worry. Don't worry? How can I help it? Went through the books again tonight. There's any way to cover the shortage. You've used $14,000 of the company's money. Maybe so, Edith, but we're not beaten yet. Is Ruthie home? Yeah, she's asleep. Nothing on her mind. And she's not going to have either. I won't have her involved in this. Let me handle it my way. Like the way you handled the $14,000 making those sure-fire investments? Why, you thought it was a great idea while I was doing it. Go wake Ruth and tell her to come in. There's something I want to discuss with both of you, something important. All right, Paul. I hope you know what you're doing. Oh, Dad, what's on your mind? I'm sorry to wake you, Ruth. It's all right. Something happened? No, honey. Did you have a nice time while I was gone? Oh, nothing unusual. Went bowling with Eddie, saw a couple of movies. Same old thing, you know. Paul, what did you want to tell us? Oh, yes, yes. Well, I wanted you to know tonight so there wouldn't be a lot of questions in front of Joe when you meet him in the morning. Joe? Who's Joe? Joe Webster. A very nice young man, Edith. He's going to work for me in the office. Oh, I see. He's going to live with us here in the house. In fact, he's up in the guest room right now. Paul, here in the house, why would you have a street? It's very simple, Edith. I need help in the office. You know how difficult it is to get a good man to come all the way out here. Yes, but don't you think that... All I ask of you is to make him feel at home. Be nice to him. And don't ask too many questions. Questions? What do you mean? It's just that, well, there's been a little unhappiness in Joe's life. I'm sure he'd rather forget about it. Oh, okay, Dad. Whatever you say, if he's that important to you. He is, Ruth. Very important. For the first time in months, you sleep peacefully that night, knowing that everything is going to turn out all right after all. And the next morning at breakfast, you're completely satisfied with the warm, friendly welcome Edith and Ruth give Joe. That's important, isn't it, Paul? Yes. Joe Webster must be happy here. He mustn't become restless and want to leave. Not until you're ready to put your plan into operation. And then after breakfast, you lead Joe down the path to the office. You think you're going to like it here, Joe? Yeah, I like it. So far, no complaints. I, uh... maybe I'm wrong, but I sort of got the idea I'm supposed to go on living with you at the house. Is that right? Of course. I want you to feel right at home, Joe. Oh, it won't be hard. We've got a nice family. There's only one thing bothers me. What's that? You. What? Now, look, you don't know me. You pick me up off the highway, you give me a job. Next thing, I move right in like I'm one of the family. Why? Well, I... Now, don't tell me that you've always wanted a son. I couldn't take that. No, I'm not going to tell you. It's just that it's hard to get a young man to stay in an out-of-the-way place like this. Yeah, but why put me up in your own home? Just one more inducement. It's hard to find good boarding places around here. Besides, it's convenient for me. I won't have to go looking for you if I want you after hours. Now, here we are. What have you got to lose by staying here, Joe? Nothing, I guess. Nothing at all. Ah, that desk over there will be yours, Joe. You want me to sit behind a desk? What's wrong with that? Look, put me on an engine. Give me a pick and shovel. But, Joe, I need you here in the office. Work isn't hard. Typing records, time cards, payrolls. I'm a little better with a bulldozer than a Remington. You'll learn. Anybody can do this work. It won't be too difficult, believe me. I still don't get... Don't back down on me now. I need you here in the office. To be perfectly frank, I've been counting on it. You have? Well, if that's the way you want it, okay, but you may be sorry. I don't think so, Joe. I don't think so at all. And so another step in your plan has been successfully completed, hasn't it, Paul? Joe Webster has been installed in the company office. And now it's only a matter of time, a matter of waiting, a month or so, until you're ready to make the final move. But as the days go by, you notice with this May that Joe is becoming restless, impatient with his new job. And you wonder, perhaps, if you're not going to be forced to bring things to a head quicker than you'd anticipated. You go out of your way to make everything as pleasant as possible for him, urging Ruth and Edith on, insisting that they keep him entertained. And then one afternoon at the end of the second week, as you return from an inspection tour of the mine, you step into the office. Joe? Joe! Panic suddenly sweeps over you. As you hurry across the office to the storeroom, you're certain now that the one thing you feared most is happening. Joe! Joe! Mangate, Frank Nelson speaking. Johnny, have you seen Joe Webster? Webster? Yeah, Mr. Burns. He came through here a couple hours ago. One of the boys gave him a ride into town. Into town? What for, do you know? Well, beats me, Mr. Burns. Oh, he did ask me about the bus schedules. The flag staff. Maybe... The bus? I see. All right, all right, thanks. Slowly you cross the room and slump down into your chair behind the desk. He's gone. Joe Webster is gone and he won't be back. You're certain of that, aren't you, Paul? He's walked out on you. And your plan has collapsed. You stare at the date on your calendar, a date circled in red, little less than a month away. Only a miracle can save you now. You lean back in your chair and stare out the window. Watch the distant hills turn from gold to purple, then fade from sight as darkness sweeps in over the desert. Then, wearily, you walk back up the path to the house. Oh, Dad, I was just going to call you. Dinner will be ready in... Oh, where's Joe? He's gone, Ruthie. Gone? This afternoon. Oh. But why did he say... He left without a word. Oh, I see. Well, that's a little strange. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. All right, Ruthie. All right. Paul. Hmm? Come out and eat your dinner. I'll be right back. I'll be right back. I'll be right back. I'll be right back. I'll be right back. Paul. Hmm? Come out and eat your dinner. Oh, I'm not hungry. Nonsense. Now, you eat your dinner. If Joe walked out on you, he walked out, that's all. Brooding about it won't bring him back. It's not that. I'm just not hungry. Dad. Yes? Did Joe mean so much to you that leaving upset you so that you can't even eat? Oh, no, no, of course not. I'm just tired, that's all. Really? Dad, I... What was that? The front door. Somebody just... Joe! Sorry to be late. Joe, I thought you'd left us. Well, things were kind of quiet around the office this afternoon. I didn't think you'd mind if I went into town. Had to buy a couple of things. Oh? Oh, of course. Yeah, I figured as long as I was going to be a white-collar worker, I ought to look the park. Joe, you haven't had your dinner? No, I haven't. I expected to get back earlier, but I had a little trouble picking up a ride. Well, sit down, Joe. I'll get you a plate. So you thought I'd walked out, huh? Yes. The guard at the main gate told me you'd asked about the bus schedules, and I thought you'd walked out on me. You want to know something? Huh? I was walking out on you, but I changed my mind before I got to the bus depot. I figured it'd be a lot smarter move for me if I stayed. Good. I'm glad you changed your mind. You have no idea how glad I really am, Joe. You're certain you know why Joe Webster changed his mind, aren't you, Paul? Because he realized he'd be better off here, hiding out at the Silver Canyon Mine, rather than risk capture on the open highway traveling from town to town. Yes, you're greatly relieved now that he's back, but you're not going to take any more chances. You're going to move swiftly before Joe has the opportunity to change his mind again. That night after dinner, as the four of you are drinking your coffee, you decide to waste no time in setting up your next move. But that means working with Edith alone, and somehow you've got to get rid of Joe and your daughter Ruth for a few hours. Look, why don't you youngsters drive into town? See a show or something, huh? I'd love to, but maybe Joe doesn't feel like it. Sounds okay to me. I could stand a movie. Oh, so? You might show Joe around town, Ruthie. It's not much of a place, Joe, but... It's not the place. It's who you're with. Ready, Ruth? I'll get my coat. Why don't you bring the car around? Be careful driving, Joe. Ruth is my pride and joy. She's all we have. Okay. Have a nice time. Thanks. Good night. Good night. What are you up to, Paul? As soon as they've gone, I'll run down to the office and get the books, Edith. We've a lot of work to do. Wish I knew what you had on your mind. You will, my dear. But the auditors will be here in a month. Less than that. I've tried not to worry. Listen to me, Edith. It's all going to work out. We'll be in the clear. All we have to do is fix the books. But how? We'll arrange the books so that the money that's missing will be listed as cash on hand. What good will that do? When the auditors go to the safe, they won't find the money. Then what? Don't worry. I'll be able to account for it. Every penny of it. Two days later, you decide the moment has arrived at last. You can't delay another minute. Yes, everything is quite in order now, isn't it, Paul? Throughout the day, you fight to remain calm, unconcerned. And that evening, as you retire to your room upstairs, you don't sleep. You listen to the clock tick away the minutes. Your eyes are wide open. The hours drag on. And then shortly before two in the morning, you slip out of bed and dress quickly. Moments later, you hurry to Joe's room. Joe! Joe! What do you want? Joe, keep your voice down. Listen to me. What's the matter? The sheriff was here looking for you. The sheriff? What'd he say? Nothing much, except that your name wasn't really Joe Webster. Yeah, well, look, I... No, no, I don't want to know any more about it. I don't care what you've done, Joe. Right now, you've got to get out of here. Yeah, yeah, sure. I told the sheriff you were probably hanging around town. They got to hurry because he'd probably be coming back. I don't figure you at all. Don't try to. Here, the key to my car. You can park it at the water stop north of town. There'll be plenty of freight trains. Thanks. And take this, Joe. Two hundred dollars. You'll need every cent of it. I don't know why you're doing this, but thanks anyway. Just call it a bonus, Joe. I'll go back to the office now in case the sheriff comes back. You know, wait a minute. How am I going to get past that guard at the gate in your car? He might have been tipped off. Don't worry, son. I'll take care of it. You'll get through. Now, hurry. You leave him to finish dressing, slip out of the house and hurry to the office. He fell for your act without any hesitation, didn't he, Paul? Exactly as you'd planned. And once he's out of the gate and on his way, your worries will be over. As you wait in the darkened office, you begin to wonder why Joe is taking so long. And then finally you hear the car start up behind the house. A minute or so later, it races past the office. You wait another half minute and then pick up the phone and call the guard at the gate. Main gate, Carter speaking. Hello? Main gate. Hello. Quickly you move across the office to the window. Hold your breath as you peer out into the darkness. Then you see them, the headlights on the highway. Your timing was perfect, wasn't it, Paul? Drawing the guard away from the gate to answer the phone made it possible for Joe to speed through without being stopped or questioned. Now there's only one thing left to do. You step to the telephone. Sheriff's office, McHale speaking. Sheriff, this is Paul Burns at the Silver Canyon mine. Oh yeah, yeah. What's up, Mr. Burns? There's been a robbery here. The safe's been cleaned out. Over $14,000. What? My car is gone too. I guess that's what woke me up. I heard it start up. Well, any idea who was? Yes, yes. I'm afraid it's a young man I had working here in the office. Joe Webster. He's gone. All right, Mr. Burns. Let me have the license number of your car. And don't worry, he won't get far. The Whistler will return in just a moment with a strange ending to tonight's story. Meantime, a word to you drivers. While watching some Christmas shoppers this morning, the thought occurred to me that if people would only choose their gasoline as carefully as they select Christmas gifts, a lot more drivers would be using signal gasoline. And for good reasons. One, of course, is Signal's Good Mileage, which has made signal gasoline known throughout the Pacific Coast states from Canada to Mexico as the Go-Farther gasoline. But equally important to you is the proud performance in today's signal gasoline, which naturally goes hand-in-hand with mileage. After all, the only way today's signal can give such good mileage is by helping your motor run more efficiently. And when your motor runs more efficiently, you also enjoy quicker starting, faster pickup, and smoother power, the things that make driving more pleasure. That's why Signal says to be sure of all the things you expect of a quality gasoline, you have just two things to remember. One, in gasoline it takes extra quality to go farther. And two, signal is the famous Go-Farther gasoline. And now back to the Whistler. Music Yes, Paul, you're quite pleased with yourself, aren't you? As you sit in the mine office waiting for the news of Joe Webster's capture, news that will spell out your final victory, then you can wake Edith, tell her the shortage in the books has been covered, and you're certain she won't blame you. For Joe Webster, alias Joe Norbella, is wanted for murder anyway, and one more crime won't make much difference. It's true they'll never find the missing money, but as far as the company is concerned it'll be accounted for. Then shortly before dawn a car grinds to a stop in front of the office, and a moment later the sheriff enters. Morning, Mr. Burns. Morning. Did you get him, Sheriff? Yep. I picked him up about an hour after you called. You have no idea what a shock this is to me. I never dreamed he'd do such a thing. Well, this may be another shock. He only had a couple of hundred dollars on him. A couple of hundred dollars, but there's more than fourteen thousand. Maybe he hid the rest somewhere. Don't worry if he did, we'll find it. I hope so. Might interest you to know Joe Webster's wanted by the L.A. police on a murder charge. Murder? Mm-hmm. His real name's Norbella. Pretty smart operator, so they tell me. Yeah, it was a fool to try this, even with an accomplice. Accomplice? Yeah, we had to book both of them. But Joe didn't have any... Norbella claims he was framed. Says you gave him the two hundred. He's lying. That's what I figured. Too bad, too, because if Norbella was framed we might save his accomplice. Why, if they were together they were guilty. Yeah, I'm afraid you're right. Too bad, though. What do you mean? Well, this is gonna shock you, Mr. Barnes. The accomplice I spoke of is your own daughter Ruth. Says they were running away to be married. Ruth? Married? That's right. I know she's everything in the world to you, but... Oh, no, Sheriff. Not Ruthie. She's innocent. I framed Joe Norbella. I gave him the two hundred dollars. Sit down. I'll tell you the whole story. The Whistler Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program The Whistler each Sunday night at the same time. Signal Oil Company has asked me to remind you that those Salvation Army kettles you'll be passing between now and Christmas will provide Yuletide cheer for over a million needy men, women and children. Even a few pennies that you'll never miss will help to make this Christmas merrier for someone less fortunate. The Whistler Featured in tonight's story were Jack Webb and Ed Begley. The Whistler was produced by George W. Allen and directed by Sterling Tracy with story by Bernard Girard and music by Wilbur Hatch and was transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. Remember at the same time next Sunday another strange tale by The Whistler. Marvin Miller speaking. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
