And now stay tuned for the mystery program that is unique among all mystery programs Because even when you know who is guilty you always receive a startling surprise at the final curtain in the signal oil program the Whistler whistling Signal the famous go-farther gasoline invites you to sit back and enjoy another strange story by the Whistler whistling 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 And now for the signal oil company the Whistler strange story a law of physics The narrow twisting road that hugged the canyon wall was precarious at best But at the height of a driving rainstorm it became a treacherous uncharted course And Ross Warren's car was literally out of control as he tried to steer it safely down the canyon The headlights were of little help as the rain washed across the canyon The vision. The older man seated next to Ross, his hands braced against the panel, peering tensely through its windshield, was Dexter Brann, important client of the Ross Warren advertising agency. Suddenly in between the waves of rain, Ross could see the road ahead of him quite clearly for just an instant, a split second. The car was headed for the far side of the road and a sheer drop of several hundred feet. With one tremendous effort, Ross turned sharply, applied the wet brakes and careen headlong toward the mountain. Come on, Ross! Look out! Look out! Are you all right, Mr. Brann? Yes. Yes, I'm all right. Thank goodness. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I don't know what happened to this car. I couldn't see. Never seen such a storm. Now, what do we do? I don't think we have much choice, Mr. Brann. You know, there aren't many cars on this road, even in good weather. Come on, I guess we'll have to walk, at least as far as the Edgley place. Of course, that's a good mile down the canyon from here, but they've got a phone. All right. Well, I'll be... What is it, Mr. Brann? Another car coming around the curb ahead of us. Hey, you there! Give us a hand, will you? Well, looks like you need it. Anybody hurt? No. No, not hurt. Can you take us back to town? Sure, pile in. I'll get the bags. Need any help with them? No, no. I've got them, okay. I'll just put them in the back seat here. I don't know who you are, young man. But you're a friend of mine. My name's Brann. Dexter Brann. Glad to know you, Mr. Brann. I'm Bob Turner. Oh, and this is Ross Warren, Mr. Turner. How do you do? I think if you'll drive ahead for about a quarter of a mile, you'll find a place wide enough to turn around in, Mr. Turner. Okay, thanks. But what about your car? We'd better call the garage, hadn't we? It's a good idea, but hadn't we better wait till we get to a phone? We don't have to, Mr. Warren. I've got a phone here in the car. You have? Oh, I've heard of them, but... Oh, it's a wonderful gadget, believe me. I wouldn't be without one. They've just installed service in this area. What's the name of your garage in town? Hoffman's. Phone number's Lawton 3264. Well, this store might give us some trouble on the call, but it's worth a try. Only trick is this button. You push it down to talk, release it to listen. This is your mobile operator. This is WJ65383. I want Lawton 3264. One moment, please. Hoffman's garage. Is this Lawton 3264? Yes, it is. I have a call for you. One moment, please. Go ahead, please. Here, Mr. Warren. The garage is on the line. Oh, thanks. Hello. This is Ross Warren. Oh, yes. This is Tom, Mr. Warren. What's the trouble? Wrecked my car on Willow Canyon Road, Tom. I'm okay, but the car's in bad shape. How far up the canyon? About 15 miles from town. A mile or so above the Edgley Place. Better send a tow car and get this wreck off the road before someone piles into it. Right away, Mr. Warren. You'll be riding in with us? No. No, I've got a ride, Tom. Do the best you can, huh? And let me know when you get through looking her over. You bet, Mr. Warren. Goodbye, Tom, and thanks. The car phone made a deep impression on Dexter Brand, your biggest client, didn't it, Ross? And you're certain that Bob Turner, owner of the car, made an even deeper one. And his dramatic appearance on the seldom-traveled road from Dexter Brand's cabin into town seems more than a mere coincidence, doesn't it? The next morning, as you reach your office, you find that it is. Oh, Mr. Warren, where have you been? I'm frantic. No, no, Edna. It couldn't be as bad as all that. Well, couldn't it? Oh, morning. I've been crazy looking for you. Look, beautiful. Suppose you calm down and tell me what's what. Calm down? How can I? He's dead, I tell you. He's dead. All right, Edna. He's dead. Now, who's dead? Mr. Average American. That's who's dead. Wayne Parks? The man we're featuring in this month's ad? Yes, a stroke. And Graphic Magazine is holding their presses and howling for another layout right away because, well, how can we salute Mr. Average American when he's dead? And what are we going to do? Oh, uh, rush them next month's layout, of course. There isn't any, Mr. Warren. That was the last of the series, don't you remember? Next month, it's all different. Oh, that's right. I'd forgotten. We are in a hole, aren't we? Oh, Mr. Warren, if I may... Please, you'll have to wait. Mr. Warren is very busy now. An emergency has come up. I know. You left the door open and I couldn't help overhearing. Mr. Warren, I'm familiar with your campaign and I believe there's a simple way to save that ad. Mr. Turner again, huh? You seem to have a knack of turning up at just the right minute. You've got an idea. Yes. Why not change the caption, we salute, to we mourn Mr. Average American? All the rest of it can remain pretty much as it is. Hey, maybe you've got something there. Edna, did you hear? Oh, I think that's wonderful. I'm so relieved. All morning, the magazine calling and me not knowing where you were. I don't know what you came to see me about, Mr. Turner, but the way I feel right now, you can ask anything. Oh, just make it Bob. I'm with Blaine and Blaine, Mr. Warren. The big Hollywood advertising agency? No wonder you had the know-how on that ad. Okay, Bob, what can I do for you? And you can make it Ross. Okay. Well, let me tell you a story. On my last vacation, someone looted my car, took everything including my fishing tackle. So passing through Lake Town here on my way to the lake, I bought some new gear made by a manufacturer here in town. The man you met last night, Mr. Brand. I handle his advertising. I know. Well, his gear is wonderful, but later when I tried to get more of it in some of the eastern cities, why nobody had ever heard of Brand Fishing Equipment. He only sells in the western states. That's what I don't get. How come? Why, if he advertised more... Is that what you're here for? Ah, don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to chisel your account. Just the opposite. You see, I'm fed up with my job and I've got a little money put by and I thought of starting my own agency, maybe in some place like Lake Town here. Oh? Competition, huh? Not if you don't want it. This is a manufacturing town. I figure there must be lots of local men who could triple their business if they went in for wider advertising. Now you've got a nice set up here. If I can sell some of them on the idea, could you and I maybe talk partnership? Partnership? Say on any new accounts I bring in and any hikes on old ones. You know, Turner, I think maybe I'll give it a try. Swell. On one condition. You either sell Mr. Brand on national advertising or you find yourself another town. Fair enough. By the way, Mr. Brand and his daughter are having dinner with me tonight. Why don't you join us? Hey, that's great. I'll give you a chance to sound out, Mr. Brand. But no passes at Kitty Brand. She's beautiful and she's mine. Engaged, huh? Well, we haven't announced it, so mum's the word, huh? Okay, I'll be good. You thought you did that rather well, didn't you, Ross? Well, you know that in Dexter Brand, Bob Turner will come up against a stone wall. And you have Bob's word that if he fails, he'll leave town. Yes, Ross, he'll leave. Never knowing you lied about being engaged to Kitty, you couldn't know, could you, that by inviting him to dinner with the Brands, you were inviting disaster. I'll tell you why I'm being so hard headed. You see, I hate manufacturing. Got into it in spite of myself. I couldn't get the kind of fishing rod I wanted, so I went ahead and made one. Friends thought I had to make another, then another and another. First thing I know, I'm manufacturing all kinds of fishing tackle. That's why I hate it. Doesn't leave me enough time to fish. If I were to expand, it would leave me even less. And I love fishing. I don't believe it. I beg your pardon. I said, sir, that I don't think you give a hoot about fishing. Look here, young man, are you trying to tell me that I'm afraid you read the wrong line that time? I'm a young man. I wish you'd explain that remark. Well, you said yourself, sir, that you made rods for your friends. And why? Because you wanted them to have the best so they could enjoy their fishing as you enjoyed yours. Of course, which proves just what I... Well, think of the thousands of Isaac Walton's whose vacations will be spoiled for lack of brand equipment. Why, every time a good one gets away from a faulty hook or snaps an inferior rod, you, Mr. Brand, are directly responsible. By joe, that's the best argument I've heard yet. Ross, you ought to take this, this conniver on as a partner. You really think so, sir? He will, sir, if you'll expand your coverage. Oh, so it's a plot. Well, Ross, it looks like I'm stuck with more advertising and you're stuck with a partner. And if I were you, I'd look out. He's likely to take over your whole business. In that case, I'm afraid I'd have to find a way to dissolve the partnership. If a shiny new car doesn't happen to fit within your budget this year, no need to envy the other guy. After all, it's easy to enjoy the next best thing. And what's that? Why, any car, your car, powered with Signal Ethel, the premium grade of Signal's famous go farther gasoline. Yes, this super powerful super fuel is scientifically engineered to bring out the best in cars of any age. And when I say best, I mean the kind of performance many drivers never thought their car is capable of. I mean pick up, the kind that carries with it that satisfying feeling when the back of the seat comes up and nudges you gently forward. And I mean power, the kind that rockets you easily, smoothly over hills, steep hills that used to call for shifting. Don't get the idea, of course, that Signal Ethel is going to let you step away from all new cars. After all, smart new car drivers use Signal Ethel too to bring out all the exciting performance that's built into today's power packed high compression motors. But of this, you can be sure the next best thing to a new car is your car powered with Signal Ethel gasoline. Well, Ross, a lot of things have changed since Bob Turner came into your life six months ago in that storm on the Willow Canyon Road. He's become a full-fledged partner in your advertising agency after selling Dexter Brand on the idea of a national campaign. And other accounts have followed Brand's lead until your business has nearly tripled. Bob sold you too, hasn't he, Ross? True, you work harder and longer than you ever have, but you've acquired a great many things you've wanted. A healthy bank account, a big new car with all the extras. Yes, even including a car telephone. Through it all, you've had just one regret, haven't you, Ross? You haven't been able to see Kitty Brand nearly as often as you'd wanted to. But as you walk up the front steps to her home to keep your first date in weeks, you're certain that tonight will make up for all the nights you've been away from. Kitty. Hi. You the official greeter here now? Only when it's the maid's night out or dad's packing. Come in, Ross. Your father taking a trip? Just up to the lake. He and Bob have a theory about some special tackle or something. You couldn't prove it by me. But anyway, they're going to try it out. Come on in the library. I've mixed some cocktails. Bob's going too, huh? Funny he didn't mention it. Oh, I think he's just driving dad up tonight. Probably spend tomorrow fishing. Oh, I see. Here we are. Sit down, Ross. Oh, you look wonderful, Kitty. Do you mind if I drink to that? Well, let's make it that we both look wonderful so we can both drink. That's fair enough. To us, because we're beautiful. Oh, I miss you, Kitty, so much. Well, that's nice, Ross. No, it isn't nice. I don't like missing you. I don't ever want to miss you again. Oh, my. So serious. I am serious, Kitty. I don't think I realized how serious I was until I saw you again a few minutes ago. Kitty, darling, I love you. Ross, I. My goodness, just one swallow from a martini. I want you to marry me, Kitty. I've wanted you two for a long time, but now I'm in a position to. Ross, please don't. Don't say these things. Not now. This is the first time I've been able to say them. You've known all along. You must have. I thought I knew, Ross, but why did you wait so long? I had to, darling. I wanted money. Lots of money. It wouldn't have mattered before, Ross. Don't you see it would have been all right? But now I. Now it's it's all different. Kitty, what's so different? I just got more money now. I haven't changed. But I have. I didn't want to, Ross. Really, I didn't. But I changed in spite of myself, I guess. I'm in love, Ross. Really in love for the first time. Kitty. But who? With a man who doesn't even know what he's never said anything or done anything. I don't want to hurt you, but it's Bob. Bob. Bob Turner. Why? I've told you he's done absolutely nothing about it. I'm sure he hasn't any idea how I feel. But since I do feel that way, Ross, I. Well, there's not much I can do about it, is there? No, no, Kitty. I guess there isn't. Kitty and Bob. It's quite a shock, isn't it, Ross? Not at all the way you planned. You realize you'll have to do something about Bob because you're determined that no one can have Kitty but you. You're still searching for a solution shortly before midnight as you enter your apartment to find the phone ringing. Hello. Ross, this is Bob. Didn't wake you, did I? No, just got in. Where are you calling from? I'm up at Mr. Brand's cabin. Going to spend the night here. Do some fishing tomorrow, but I'm driving back to town tomorrow night. Oh, I see. I'd like to see you tomorrow night if you can make it, Ross. I've got some things to talk over with you. OK, Bob. But if you're off on a little fishing junket, forget about business. Oh, I don't want to see you about business, Ross. It's well, I just want to talk with you a while. I'd prefer to do it in person. Fine. Fine. Suppose we meet at your apartment whenever you say. Oh, good. I'll leave here at seven thirty. That should get me back to town about nine. How does that sound? Nine it is. Tomorrow night. I'll see you then. Good night. Goodbye, Bob. Your solution came suddenly, didn't it, Ross? And Bob gave it to you himself. A little after eight the next evening, you parked your car in the heavy woods at the foot of a well-known slide area on Willow Canyon Road. In a matter of minutes, you roll several boulders into the middle of the road. And then as you hear a car approaching, you rush back to your own car completely hidden from sight. You peer through the thick trees, see Bob's car approaching. He suddenly swings to miss the boulders, balances precariously on the drop side of the road. And then the car miraculously rights itself, hugs the road again and moves past the boulders to a safe stop. You failed, didn't you, Ross? You watch Bob get out of his car, push the boulders to the side of the road, return to his car and start for town. As you pull your car onto the road and drive slowly down the canyon toward town, you realize you must get rid of Bob Turner. Once he's out of the way, you'll control all the new businesses brought in and have a clear field with Kitty. Then it hits you an even better plan. And you're certain you'll not fail again. There's an automatic in your glove compartment and an alibi in your car telephone. You stop the car and place a call to Hoffman's Garage in Lake Town. Hoffman's Garage, Tom speaking. This is Ross Warren, Tom. Afraid I need your tow car again. Uh oh, don't tell me you're stranded on Willow Canyon Road again. Not this time, Tom. I'm about 20 miles out on the Mariltan Road. The car went out of control just by those bluffs. You know the spot? Sure. Now look, Mr. Warren, we'll be there, but it may take an hour or so. The truck's out now and there's another call ahead of you. That's okay, Tom. There's no hurry. I'll wait right here in the car for you. It's a break, isn't it, Ross? An hour will give you ample time to get to town, take care of Bob Turner, and drive out to the bluffs on the Mariltan Road. You'll wreck your car there and make certain of a perfect alibi in the bargain. Well, Ross, you're punctual. You're a little ahead of time. I just got here. I know. Well, sit down. Man, I need a drink. Down near Turn the Carover coming down here. Boulder's in the road along that slide area. I know that, too. You do? But how? I just... Bob, this personal matter you want to discuss with me, it's Kitty, isn't it? Well, yes, Ross, it is. I thought we could talk it out, you and I. You're in love with her. Want to marry her? Well, yes, but... Is she in love with you? I don't know. Look, Ross, this isn't the way I planned it. Sit down, won't you? And we'll talk about it. But this is the way I planned it. No, I won't sit down. My aim's straighter if I stand. Why, Ross, you're crazy. Put that gun away. Down! Okay, Bob, I don't mind putting the gun away. Now. He's dead, isn't he, Ross? As you turn to leave, you pull the drapes aside slightly to look out. And walking toward the apartment, just a few houses down, you recognize a familiar figure passing under the street light. It's Kitty Brand. You sigh with relief that you saw her before she could see you. Then you turn quickly, race for the back of the apartment, let yourself out the back entrance, and rush out into the night towards your car parked on the side of the street. Once there, you check your time. You have half an hour, Ross. Ample time to drive to the bluffs on the Merrillton Road before the tow car from the Hoffman garage is due to arrive. And you make it with five minutes to spare. Now, to make this alibi, hold on. There. That ought to do it. Well, Ross, you're pleased with the way things worked out, aren't you? You bashed in the front of your car right by the bluffs just as you planned. And before the tow car arrived from town, you had time to bury the automatic that killed Bob Turner. You're confident now, aren't you, Ross? Certain that it's just a matter of time until Kitty Brand gets over the shock of Bob's death and agrees to marry you. The next day, you're properly shocked and bereaved as Lieutenant Norris calls for you in his police car. And the two of you discuss the crime as you ride along. You become so engrossed in the discussion, you're unaware that he's driven you far out from town on the Merrillton Road. Naturally, I'm anxious to help all I can, Lieutenant. Bob Turner was, well, like a brother to me. I'm going to take you up on that help angle, Mr. Warren. Tom Hoffman's already pointed out the spot on the Merrillton Road where he picked up you and your car last night. Want you to verify that if you don't mind. Why, of course. I'd be glad to. I didn't even notice. We're almost there, aren't we? That's right. You see, Mr. Warren, the two stories are a little confusing. What two stories? Yours and Kitty Brand's. She was out for a walk last night, dropped by Turner's apartment and discovered his body. And she saw your car parked on a side street next to the apartment. But she couldn't have. I was... Both you and Tom Hoffman say you were right here in the smashed car at the time. That's true. Hey, that's my car there. How he took the liberty of bringing it back out here, Mr. Warren, to prove something to both of us. Come on over here for a minute. I'm afraid I don't understand, Lieutenant. You will. Now, just for the record, will you get in your car and show me how you placed that call to the garage last night? Why, of course. I just picked up the receiver, pushed this button and the operator answered. Why, that's funny. Something's wrong with this phone. No, Warren, there's something wrong with your story. Now, see here, Tom Hoffman picked me up right here at the same time Kitty Brand found Turner dead 20 miles away. In case you don't know it, Lieutenant, there's a law of physics that says nobody can occupy two places at the same time. That's right. And there's a law of electronics that says you couldn't possibly have made the phone call to Hoffman's garage from this spot, Warren. What do you mean I couldn't? Just that nobody can make or receive calls from here. Because this whole stretch of road is an absolute dead spot for radio. Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program, The Whistler, each Sunday night at this same time. Signal dealers are so proud of the good mileage of their famous go farther gasoline. They have available free a mileage record book in which you can keep track of your own mileage as well as other car purchases and information. This handy mileage record book is just one of the many thoughtful extras offered free by friendly independently operated signal service stations to add more smiles to your miles. Featured in tonight's story were Bill Foreman, Chris Tremaine, Gene Bates, Bob Bruce, Elizabeth Root, Herb Butterfield, and Charles Seal. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen with story by George Asness, 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 to tune in at the same time next Sunday when the Signal Oil Company will bring you another strange story by The Whistler, entitled The Man in the Trench Coat, in which a top coat belonging to another man leads the wearer to the unmasking of a blackmailer and murder. Marvin Miller speaking for the Signal Oil Company. Stay tuned now for our Miss Brooks starring Eve Arden, which follows immediately over most of these stations. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
