Signal, signal, signal gasoline. Your car will go far, will go farther gasoline. Sit back and relax, friend. It's time to enjoy the Signal Oil Program. Yes, 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 before I walk by night. I know many strange tales hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadow. 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 top two, 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, that physical fact. The captain on the bridge of the luxurious liner shaded his eyes from the white glare of the tropic sun. His gaze swept over the tiny deserted island, past the patch of white cloth flying from the top of a slender palm tree near the shore. Then he moved quickly to the quarter deck, stood quietly by as the ship's doctor leaned over the half unconscious person they'd just brought aboard. The details weren't available immediately. But when the story was pieced together, they discovered that it began some weeks before. Yes, it had all started weeks ago on an island several hundred miles away. On the docks beside the old freighter stood Professor Hillary Merrill, surrounded by a dozen huge packing cases. The successful result of more than two years of scientific research. It had been a large task indeed for such a small man. And the professor was a small man. People had never let him forget that physical fact. The loud laughter of two seamen nearby interrupted his thoughts. Hey, ain't that just the way the little professor struts around, huh? Yeah, like he owns the world. He sure likes to give orders. A little guy really gets a big charge out of pushing big guys around, showing them who's boss. What's he trying to prove? What else? That it ain't the size of a man that counts, it's the brain. Well, well, Professor, glad to have you aboard. Thank you, Captain. Certainly been hearing things about you, Professor, your research and all. I've tried to do my job. Big job, too. And for a man your size... If you don't mind, Captain, physical fact has little to do with a man's brain. No offense, Professor, no offense. Proud to have you aboard my ship. Yes. Well, thank you. I... Something wrong? No, no, no. Just noticed the young lady coming aboard. Hey, class. Nightclub entertainer or something? Lily, Miss Lane, a little more than just a nightclub entertainer, Captain. I believe I'll say hello. Well, Lily, shall we meet again? Well, Professor, hello. I was wondering if I'd know anyone on board. You heading home? Yes, I am. I'm heading back. And you, Lily, what brings you aboard? Just that, Professor. I'm bored. The islands, people, everything. I thought I'd give the States a break. Wonderful. And our meeting like this should make the trip more pleasant for both of us. I don't see why not. We take quite a boat, you know. No, I didn't. How do you mean? The cargo. The usual. Along with a few passengers, I thought. That's all. Except for a very fancy shipment. In the purses, say. I didn't know anything about that. You do? Oh, yes. This ship is carrying quite a fortune. Well, what do you know? Now, why don't we go down to my cabin and buy ourselves a boulevardier's drink? An excellent idea, Lily. And you can tell me all about your research work, hmm? You enjoy the company of this young lady, don't you, Professor? And she seems properly impressed with all that you say and do. Then, the second afternoon out at sea, as you're taking a turn about the deck alone, you pass the lifeboat section and hear voices, familiar voices, Lily's and someone else. Well, don't worry, don't worry, baby. I'd throttle him in a minute if he gave us any trouble. Casey, I tell you, he made a point of mentioning the money. It's just a coincidence the guy was trying to impress you. Nothing's gonna go wrong. Talk to Andy. He's still with us. He's in like a glove. He's tired of being third officer on this mud scow. He'll tip us when the time is right. I'll open that safe like a soup can. How, Casey, how you gonna do it? Like I've done it a hundred times with a blowtorch, at night, when they changed the watch. A blowtorch? There's not even any smoking aboard. Isn't that dangerous with a cargo of gasoline? Not when you know what you're doing, sweetheart. You'd better stay out of sight. The professor will remember you. That business in Tahiti, he won't forget. No, I won't forget either. I got a score to settle with a little man. If he gets in my way again, I'll kill him. I'll break him like a stick. A stick. A stick, Casey. That's good. Lily's laughter infuriates you, doesn't it, Professor? More than anything else. And you wonder what to do about what you've overheard. You keep close to your cabin for the rest of the day. And then one evening, you finally decide to drop in on the captain. As you start down the darkened deck and approach the bridge companionway... The ship trembles beneath you, rocks crazily. And then another sound comes drifting up, a terrifying cry, knifing through the darkness. Fire! The ship's on fire! Suddenly, you seem to be in a hot searing vacuum. The pressure becomes almost unbearable. The pressure becomes unbearable. You want to scream, but you can't. Then the vacuum breaks. You're spinning through the air, and then you hit the water. The rest is a blur, a horrible nightmare. You remember vaguely toppling over face down on the beach. You lie there till daybreak in a deep sleep. And in your dream, there are voices, and you're getting closer and closer. Hey, Professor, come on. Snap out of it. Hey, what is it? What is it? Morning, Professor. Welcome to our little island. Casey? Yeah, Casey. Remember me? How you feeling, Professor? Well, all right, I guess. Who are you? Name's Andy. Oh, yes. Would you give me a hand, Andy? Never mind, I'll give you a hand, Professor. Cut it out, Casey. Now, look, there are just four of us. We have to get along. You mean we're the only ones? Right so. Me, Casey here, you, and the girl. The girl? Lily. She's lying up there under the trees. The explosion shook her up pretty badly. I hope she'll come out of it okay. Oh, sure, sure, she will. She'll be fine. But I don't know about you, Professor. I haven't made up my mind. Leave him alone. Sure, sure, for now. I think this will be fun, don't you, Professor? Just the four of us alone on an island. Real cozy, huh, Professor? That out-of-gas driver on Signal's new cartoon billboard inspired Ed Steen of Los Angeles to send in this little limerick. There once was a driver who set forth in his car, but wound up on a bicycle's handlebar. For he ran out of fuel, an experience most cruel. With Signal, he would have gone farther by far. Signal, Signal, Signal Gasoline Your car will go far with go-farther gasoline Ed Steen certainly hit the nail on the head when he said that the embarrassed motorist on the billboard would have gone farther with Signal. But a limerick, alas, just doesn't have room to include all the benefits you enjoy when you fill up with Signal. Such as when you step down on your throttle and discover their alert flashing signal pickup, plus smooth, quiet signal power to spare. Or like birds of a feather, mileage and performance go together. So whether you're looking for economy or just plain honest-to-goodness driving pleasure, remember the advice on those billboards you're seeing. Next time, fill up with Signal, the go-farther gasoline. Gasoline It's frightening, isn't it, Professor? Like awakening from one terrible nightmare into another. Worse, more threatening. Casey, this big hulk of a man who resents the very air you breathe. And because of the explosion that wrecked your ship, you're thrown with him on this lonely Pacific Isle. Moments later, you discover why Andy, the third officer from the sunken ship, interfered in your behalf. It's Lillian. She's injured and perhaps badly, and they don't know what to do about it. They take you to her, and Casey starts giving orders again. Come on, come on, do something for her, little man. Easy, take it easy, Casey. Can you do anything for her, Professor? I can try, if you'll keep him away from me. Come on, Casey. Now, wait a minute, I'm not sure if... Come on, she's in his hands now. Okay. Okay, Professor, but treat her good, very good. You'll be in my hands. The Balance of Power The balance of power changes swiftly sometimes, doesn't it, Professor? Brains for brawn, and you've won the first round. You smile as you turn to examine Lillian. Her injuries aren't serious, you're sure of that. But you have no intention of revealing it to Casey. You make her comfortable, talk quietly, reassuringly, and then you notice something else, a small black bag. Well, the money. They did get it after all. Money. What does it matter? Who's going to use it now? Better that you rest, Lily. And don't worry too much. Everything's going to be all right. Professor, I... I'm sorry. I hope you don't hate me. Oh, no, no, indeed. I'm thankful for you, Lily. Yes, I'm thankful that you're here. Now, you just lie back. Later, you walk down to join Casey and Andy on the beach and see that they're swimming in the water, striking out for something with long, powerful strokes. You marvel at their strength as you see the object of their effort, a wrecked lifeboat on the reefs. Minutes later, the two men have the gray hulk beached. It's almost a complete wreck, but lashed securely in the prow of the boat are two casks of water, a heavy axe, and in one remaining watertight compartment are several tins, emergency rations of meat and biscuits. Hey, this is a break. Look at that, Casey. Food and water. Wonderful. Hey, give me that. I'm going to buy myself a drink. Casey, put that down. What? I said put it down. Listen, you, since when have you... Hold it, Casey. Each drink you take puts us all that much closer to oblivion. We can stay here, oh, yes, eating, drinking up our lives day by day. Oh, we can make an attempt to save ourselves. What do you mean? A raft. We can build a raft. Yeah, out of what? This shattered lifeboat, the canvas, the trees. Anything we can lay our hands upon. He's got something there, Casey. Sure. Suppose we do build a raft. We end up in the middle of nowhere. How do we know we got enough food and water? We don't. At best, it's a hit and miss proposition. We might hit. I'm game. Anything's better than sitting here letting that burning sun fry our heads off. What's the first move? I'll have to have time to figure out our chancey. You must give me your full confidence. I must also be given complete charge of the food and water. What? I've traveled these waters extensively. There were many other expeditions, you know. Concerning navigation, I know the stars like the palm of my hand. But most important of all, I know the approximate position of this island. Yeah? Where are we, Professor? That knowledge, Mr. Casey, I will keep to myself. You see, that's my passport to safety. My insurance that all of us will leave this island together. You're one step ahead of Mr. Casey, aren't you, Professor? And that's where you're going to stay all the way. You turn your thoughts back to the details of your plan. Carefully consider the time, the distance, the food and water supply. The atolls and the radact chain are your best chance. Only two of you stand a chance of making it alive. But the others mustn't find that out. Not even Lily until you're ready. And then that evening... Okay, Einstein, what's the verdict? For now, we will work at dusk and in the early morning. It's a known fact that overexertion in sun of this intensity could finish a man in a matter of hours. And of course, we're rationing food and water. How long do you think the food and water will last, Professor? Well, Lily, if we adhere strictly to the rules, we have supplies for three weeks. How much time are we going to have to build the raft? Maximum of ten days. That means not quite two weeks on the water. How do you figure our speed? That, of course, is theoretical. Specific gravity of the raft, favorable winds, ocean currents, all have to be taken into account. I arrived at a rough average of five knots a day. Professor, where are we? And where are we going? That, as I've already told Casey, will have to remain my secret. You'll all just have to trust me. In the week that follows, the work of building the raft progresses under Casey's supervision. You spend all your time weaving palm strands into a sail, taking care of Lily. And then early one morning, as you pause in your labor, as you glance up, and a few feet away, resting on one elbow, Lily stares at you, a faint smile on her lips. Good morning, Lily. Have a good sleep? Uh-huh. How do you feel? Oh, I'm still weak as a kitten, I'm afraid. I'll get you some biscuits and water. No, later. Right now, I'd rather talk. You know, you're pretty smart. And what's amusing? The way you handle those two big hulks, Casey, Mandy, I find it very amusing. I kind of like it, Professor. I've always liked a man with a brain. Then how is it that you and Casey, I mean... Oh, he's all right. I figured he'd do till something better came along. I see. I guess I've always felt that someday I'd run across just the kind of a guy I wanted. Nice sort of guy, and smart. You know, like Casey's and the world could drop dead for my dough. And speaking of money, a little black bag here, Professor? You know what you're thinking about? You're in. I've already talked with Andy. He's cut you in for a share. And Casey? What did he say? Casey's been outvoted. He's sore, but there's nothing he can do about it. So you're in. That's fine, Lily. That's fine. Professor? Yes? Don't get me wrong, I'm not fishing for information. I don't care where we are, where we're going. Just as long as I get there. What is it, Lily? Do you really think we have a chance, the four of us? We have a good chance, yes. Um, a couple of smart people would stand a better chance of making it, wouldn't they? I mean, food, water, and everything? Yes. Two smart people would have a better chance than four, Lily. A much better chance. You watch Lily, the little smile playing on her lips as she leans back and closes her eyes. And you know what's on her mind, don't you? Yes, it's all very clear to you. That night, while the others sleep, you hurry to the food cache. A moment later, you're back. You carefully approach the sleeping Casey, place two whole biscuits under the palm branches that serve as his mattress, and then silently you slip back to your own bed to wait for morning. And the opportunity to speak with Andy alone. How's the raft coming along, Andy? They ought to finish it up, Professor. How about the sail? All but completed. Great. Well, I'd better get down there and give Casey a hand. Just a moment. I must talk with you. What's up? Well, I suspected for the last few days that our supplies were being tampered with. What? Yes, last night I feigned sleep. I saw Casey leave his bunk. He wasn't gone for more than a minute. When he came back, I saw him slip something under his mattress. Wait a minute. You think that... No, no, no, perhaps I was just dreaming, but why don't we take a look? Just to be certain. How do you like that? Two whole biscuits in his bunk. Just wait till I get my hands on... No, no, no, Andy. Wait, wait, wait. We must be very careful. Something must be done about it, yes. A man like Casey is dangerous in this situation. He threatens our own lives. No, no, no, I have a better idea. Now, tonight when everyone's asleep, you must go to the food cache and wait. And if I'm thinking correctly, Casey eats his stolen biscuits at night. And if that's the case, he'll get thirsty. Sure, sure. And I'll give you odds you'll have a nocturnal visitor. And if I have this visitor? Well, I'd keep your knife in readiness, if I were you, Andy. You know, we must be completely careful. We must be completely heartless in a situation like this. Yeah. If Casey walks to the food cache tonight, Professor, it'll be his last walk. Late that evening, the raft is completed. And now you're ready to make the next move in your plan to turn the two men against one another. It was easy to sell Andy the idea. He trusts you. You could talk to him, give it to him straight. Because that's the kind of a person he is. But Casey isn't going to buy as easily. You've thought it over very carefully, haven't you, Professor? You know exactly how you're going to approach Casey. And with your help, Casey will sell himself on the idea. That night at the water's edge, you manage to get Casey alone. What do you mean we're going to have to cut down on rations? We're starving now. But is this the food, isn't it? Holding out as long as I thought it would, I can't understand it. I must have miscalculated. You miscalculated, huh? What are you trying to pull? You don't think I've been stealing it, but Casey, I swear that I... You're not dipping into the grub than Ho is. Now, come on, I want answers. Handling the food is your department, your responsibility. But I know, I know, but I can't stay awake 24 hours a day watching you and Andy, can I? Andy? Well, listen, Casey, I don't know that this means anything, but several nights lately, I think I've seen Andy coming from the food cache. Andy, huh? Professor, you can sleep tight tonight. I'm going to stay awake. But you don't sleep, do you, Professor? Instead, you lie awake, waiting and watching. Then you see Andy rise slowly from his bunk, slip away toward the food cache. Moments later, you watch Casey get to his feet, see him remove the knife from its sheath and hurry away into the blackness. You wait, trembling with excitement, and then you hear it, a low, muffled cry. You can hear the battle in the darkness. You glance over at Lily, she's still asleep. And then, as suddenly as it began, all is quiet, except for the sound of the surf. It's all over, isn't it, Professor? Quickly, you get to your food and run toward the food cache. Moments later, you're back by Lily's side, shaking her gently. Lily. Lily. Oh, it's you. Hello, Professor. Lily, remember those two smart people you were talking about? Well, it's all set for them now. What? What do you mean? There's been a fight down at the food cache. Casey and Andy. They're both dead. The Whistler will return in just a moment with a strange ending to tonight's story. Many of you are thinking of putting new tires on your car before starting on your vacation trip, so here are some important facts to remember for most value per dollar. In both mileage and safety, your best buy is a first-line, I repeat, first-line tire. And to be sure you're getting first-line quality, you'll be wise to choose a Lee tire made by Lee of Conchawhacken, who for 47 years has made only one quality, the finest of first-line tires. Typical of Lee's superior construction, the rugged cold rubber that goes into Lee tires is now toughened even more with patented fill black O. That's one reason today's Lee tires actually wear longer than ever before, and why signal dealers can now back every Lee tire with a double guarantee. And best of all, you can now trade your smooth old tires for these extra long-wearing Lee first-line tires at surprisingly small cost. Stop by a signal station and get the facts and figures. You'll find that sign outside signal stations means what it says, biggest allowance for your old tires. And we do mean biggest. The sun reflected cruelly across the tropical sea as the last boat of the landing party left the tiny deserted island, returned to the liner lying offshore. The officer in charge moved quickly up the rope ladder to the ship and hurried along the deck. Finally, he turned into a cabin where the captain and the ship's doctor stood looking down on the small steel figure lying on the cot. How's the patient coming along, doctor? Condition's very weak. There's little hope. Oh? That's too bad. Any theory from what you've found ashore, Jenkins? Well, Captain, at one place on the beach, we found two men. Obviously, they'd been in a fight. They'd killed each other with knives. I'm sure... Just a moment. It's coming around again. Easy. Easy now. When time's right, we'll get away together, Andy. Just the two of us. Don't worry. I'll handle the professor. Professor? Say, I wonder if that could be the other man. He looked like he might be... The other man? You mean the... Oh, yes, sir. We found a raft further up the beach, stocked with provisions, ready to go. That's where we found the third party, a little guy. Could have been the professor the girl just mentioned. Any marks of identification? No, sir. Looks like he died of exhaustion trying to push the raft across the beach to the water. His fingernails had dug clear into the wood. They had the right idea, all right, but not enough strength to back it up. That's the thing I can't quite figure. Yes? Why they built that raft way up in the beach instead of down at the water's edge. Why it would have taken two strong men to get that raft into the water. Whoever built it, well, I guess they just weren't very smart. Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program, The Whistler, each Sunday night at the same time. 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 speed, be courteous, and obey traffic regulations. It may save a life, possibly your own. Featured in tonight's story were Howard McNair, Virginia Gregg, Frank Lovejoy, and Don Harvey. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen, with story by James Cullen, music by Wilbur Hatch, and was transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. The Whistler is entirely fictional, and all characters portrayed on The Whistler are also fictional. Any similarity of names or resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Remember at this same time next Sunday, another strange tale by The Whistler. Signal, signal, signal gasoline, your car will go far, go farther gasoline. This is Marvin Miller speaking. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
