← Down These Mean Streets (Old Time Radio Detectives)
Down These Mean Streets (Old Time Radio Detectives)
Episode 635 - City Slicker Sleuths (Philip Marlowe, Richard Diamond, The Saint, & Rocky Fortune)
02:01:52
We leave the mean streets of the big cities behind and join four radio detectives in western-themed mysteries - stories of cowboys, horses, cattle, and the wide open spaces. Philip Marlowe hunts for a killer on a dude ranch in “The Dude from...
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Get this and get it straight. Crime is a sucker's road and those who travel it wind up in the gut of the prison of the grave. The story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. The Adventures of Sam Spade Detective the Adventures of the Saint Starring Vincent Price. Bob Bailey in the exciting adventures of the man with the action packed expense account, America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator. Yours truly, Johnny Doll. Hello and welcome to down these Mean Streets with more old time radio detectives and crime solvers. This week we're leaving the mean streets of the city behind and saddling up with a quartet of sleuths as they tackle crimes involving horses, cowboys and the wide open spaces. First up is Gerald Moore as Philip Marlowe in In the Dude From Manhattan originally aired on CBS on July 2, 1949. Marlow is called by an old friend who runs a dude ranch and who needs help with a rivalry between one of his stable hands and a guest. But no sooner has the detective arrived on the scene than the guest is found beaten to death in a horse's stall. Then we've got Dick Powell as Richard diamond in an episode known as the Hat Pin Murder Case, also known as the Oklahoma Cowboy Case. This one originally aired on NBC on September 27, 1950, and it brings diamond from the Big Apple to cattle country at the request of a rancher who believes his brother's death was no accident. Like many episodes of Richard diamond, this story was adapted for Peter Gunn, the 1950s Private Eye TV series created by diamond creator Blake Edwards. It's a first season episode called Pecos Pete and it's currently streaming on Amazon prime and the Roku Channel. If you're interested in checking it out, our third show today is An Adventure of the Saint. Last week we heard Vincent Price as Simon Templar. Today we'll hear his successor in the role, Tom Conway. Mr. Conway dons the saint's halo for death of a Cowboy. Originally aired on NBC on July 1, 1951. A cattleman from Texas wants the Saint to make sure he gets out of New York alive. He's got a beef with a rival cattleman about some beef and someone's gunning for him. And finally, we'll hear Frank Sinatra as Rocky Fortune in the Rodeo Murder. Originally aired on NBC on January 12, 1954. Yes, the chairman of the board himself stars in this mystery where the titular Mr. Fortune gets a job at the rodeo when it comes to town, only to find himself accused of robbing and killing the rodeo manager. So now let's hit the dusty trail with four western mysteries starring some big city radio detectives. We'll kick things off with Philip Marlowe right after these messages. Let's turn back the clock about 24 hours and drop in on Mr. And Mrs. Johnson. They're just returning from a football game. Well, here we are. Home at last. And boy, am I hungry. So am I. Let's start thinking about some food. Big juicy hamburgers maybe. Say, that's for me. With plenty of cats across the. Uh huh. Del Monte catsup. It has such marvelous flavor. And Mrs. Johnson really knows her catsup. Del Monte Catsup. The zestiest, liveliest catsup that ever pleased a man. Now that football season is in full swing, you'll find Del Monte Catsup a bigger help than ever when planning lunches before the game or supper afterwards. It's a smart hostess who serves hearty food and lots of it. With plenty of Del Monte cats up. Handy to add bright, rich spring spice tomato flavor. Yes, that marvelous tomato flavor you find in Del Monte catsup. The only catsup made with pineapple vinegar. That superlative vinegar that coaxes out all the best in tomato flavor. Remember, for real zip and zest, it's Del Monte catsup every time. Next time you go shopping, look for Del Monte Catsup. You'll like its quality and you'll like it thrifty price from coast to coast. Ford owners agree the big new Ford brings you more for your money. More in comfort, more in performance and more in economy. But only through personal experience can you appreciate the restful ease of Ford's famous midship ride and the luxurious comfort of Ford's non sag foam rubber cushioned front seat. Only by driving this great car can you enjoy its smooth power and solid roadability. And only by getting the facts about Ford's economy can you understand that so powerful, so smooth riding and so beautiful a car can cost so little to buy, to run and to maintain. Find out how much it saves you. Yes, before you buy any car at any price, it will pay you to stop by your local Ford dealers. Take the wheel of the 100 horsepower V8 or its companion in quality, the 95 horsepower 6. Once you've driven it, you'll agree the new Ford is the one truly fine car in the low price field. Are you looking for a smooth shave, men? Then try Fitch's no Brush shaving cream. It'll give you the kind of shave you want. Because 40 years of experience have gone into the making of this product. Fitch's no Brush contains a special skin conditioner ingredient that takes the work out of shaving. You won't have to struggle and scrape against stubborn whiskers because the skin conditioner prepares your face beforehand. It holds the whiskers up so your razor can zip them down closely and quickly. Even against the grain of a tough beard, your razor will glide swiftly, never nicking or scraping. Fitch's no Brush is a boon to sensitive faces because it lubricates gently, keeping that tender skin from being irritated. After this quick, easy shave, your skin will feel cool and refreshed, wonderfully smooth. And if you prefer a lather cream, try Fitch's Brush Cream. It forms a rich, abundant lather when applied with a brush. This lather stays moist all during the shave. Fitch's Brush Cream also contains the special skin conditioner for sensitive faces. Fitch's Brush and Fitch's no Brush Shaving Cream are available in handy 25 and 50 cent sizes. For a shave you like, switch to Fitch. There's a big change going on, an important one for car buyers. It's the countrywide change to Rambler. Passing car after car in sales, Rambler now leads all but two other makes in state after state. What does it all mean? That Rambler has what people want and cannot get. In other cars, Rambler is the quality compact car. For instance, Rambler has plenty of hat room, shoulder room and leg room for six big people. Yet Rambler is so trim on the outside, it handles and parks with the greatest ease for first cost, gas, economy and resale value. Rambler is America's top economy car. Yet only Rambler offers the fine features of personalized comfort. There are front seats that glide back and forward separately to perfectly fit short legs or long, adjustable headrests, airliner reclining seats, twin travel beds, finest air conditioning at lowest cost. Throughout, Rambler engineering is more advanced, Rambler workmanship more careful. Come in and drive the quality compact car Rambler. See your Rambler dealer. I dedicate this program to the fight against crime. Not merely crimes of violence and crimes of dishonesty crimes, but crimes of intolerance, discrimination and bad citizenship. Crimes against America. Get this and get it straight. Crime is a sucker's road, and those who travel it wind up in the gut of the prison of the grave. There's no other end. But they never learn. This time it was going to be a vacation in the wide open spaces. But a black stallion, a tiny emerald and a battered Horseshoe met a 24 hour delay. It could have been worse, because to the dude from Manhattan, they meant death from the pen of Raymond Chandler, outstanding author of mystery, comes his most famous character and crime's most deadly enemy as we present the adventures of Philip Marlowe. Now with Gerald Moore starred as Philip Marlowe, we bring you tonight's exciting story, the Dude From Manhattan. Every so often, life in the city seems to boil down to nothing but noise and concrete. Where all a deep breath does for you is to pack more exhaust fumes into your lungs. And the nearest thing to nature is a mangy sparrow pecking survival out of a dirty alley. So when I got a long distance call from an old friend inviting me to spend a week in the great outdoors at a ranch he'd just bought near Rattlesnake Mountain, I snapped at the chance. Inside an hour I was rolling down the highway towards San Bernardino. And 120 miles later, at 5 o' clock I turned in under a big arch of gnarled cedar that spelled out Rainbow Ranch. But the layout beyond was about as primitive as a dry martini. A ranch house the size of Union Station was backed up by blue tile swimming pool, paved tennis court and a semicircle of bungalows with all the rustic charm of a Hollywood motel. I drove on in slowly as a broad brimmed hat, red gabardine shirt, Hickok belt and hand tooled boots bounced out the door and ran toward me. It was my host, the ex hotel man, Harold R. Lossen. How are you, boy? I am sure glad you could make it. File out and I'll show you around. Hey, what is all this, Harold? From your phone call I expected a shack with oil lamps, a wood stove and at least a few head of cattle. What you mean I didn't tell you? Why, this is a guest ranchville. Guest ranch? The best in the West. Oh, brother. Oh, and incidentally, don't call me Harold. No bad atmosphere for the dudes. The name's Buck now. Buck Lawson. Buck? Oh, no. Oh, I got real spread here, phil. Real spread. 14 big cabins, string of 30 horses. Stables down there. Hi there, Buck. Hello, Buck. Beautiful day, isn't it? Howdy, folks. Sure is, Mr. And Mrs. Doberman. He's a big van and storage man in LA. As I was saying, Thunder. Who's coming? Red Rider. Not funny, Phil. Not funny. Look, it's Thunder, that black devil. He's loose again. That horse will kick the fence down if those fools don't hold him. Hey, hey, that's some animal. He's a beauty. Yes, and a renegade. A skittish temperamental bronco. With anybody but Virgil Sawyer. Yeah. Oh, they got A rope on him now that'll hold him, huh? Not for long. Sawyer's the only hand I've got who can get close to them stallion, and he's leaving tomorrow. Blasted. How come? Well, frankly, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Yeah? Wait a minute. I came up here for a rest, not a job. I know, I know. You'll get it, Phil. You'll get it. But since you're here, I figured you could sort of keep your eyes open for me. Lawson, it's a dirty trick. No, no, no, Phil, please. I'm expecting trouble, and bluntly, I can't afford it. Every cent I've got is tied up in this ranch. A serious scandal could ruin me. And you're just the one who can keep that sort of thing. Okay, okay. So it's the old hotel business on horseback. How does a Sawyer mean trouble? Well, there's a couple here from the east, the Mortons. He's a top silk wholesaler from New York and rich. And that kind means everything to me, Phil. But his wife, Judy, an ex dance instructor with Arthur Murray back East, is. Well, she's bored stiff out here. And the upshot of it all is that somehow, somehow she and your cowboy Sawyer started making eyes at each other. And the husband got nasty about it, huh? How did you know that? Yeah, well, it's standard, like a B picture plot. Well, anyway, they came to blows this morning. Maybe Virgil's innocent, maybe not. But I can't take a chance. So I fired him. Ordered him to pack and get off the place by tomorrow. Well, that's that. What are you worried about? Plenty. Sawyer's a proud man, Marlow. He was furious. He threatened to get even. I'm not sure he means it, but if he does, well, that's what we have to look out for. The we, huh? Now, look, Buck, you bilked me into coming up here and I got a good notion of turnaround. Wait, wait. Hold it, Phil. What's the matter? You see that couple going into cabin number eight? Yeah. That's the couple I'm talking about. The Mortons. Paul and Judy. Cabin eight, huh? Don't tell me. Just let me guess. Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Phil, you've got number seven. Okay? Yeah, sure. Number seven it is. I'll be seeing you, Buck. I walked up to number seven and waited for the boy to show up with my bag. Then I started to unpack, but stopped when I heard a riot next door. At that point, sprawling Rainbow Ranch was just a horizontal tenement. Nothing More? Let me point out a few. Now, what are you doing? Shutting the window. Isn't it bad enough to make a fool of yourself in private? You have to make a public scene as well. Voices rattled on for a few minutes, then dwindled off into a long and golden silence that said, maybe a peace treaty had been. But then a door slammed to number eight. So I peeked out. It was Morton. And from the look on his face, I knew the peace treaty was nothing but an armed truce. I followed him to the big lodge and into the bar. And when he sat down, I took the stool next to him. Well, what'll it be, gentlemen? Scotch and water, no ice. The same with ice. Well, Mr. Morton, I guess that brands us as dudes, huh? Bourbon's the only drink out west. I wouldn't know, I'm sure. Oh, it's a fact. Sure. Hey, that's a handsome ring you got there. And the initials are the same as mine. Those stones are emeralds, aren't they? That's right. Yeah. There's supposed to be four of them. One's missing. I see. Is that an emerald, too? It was. Happens to be my birthstone. Here you are, gentlemen. Oh, fine. Allow me, Mr. Morton. There you are. Oh, thank you, sir. How'd you lose it? Stone, I mean. I don't know. It happened several months ago. And in any case, it's no concern of yours. Now, if you don't mind, I'd just assume soon be left alone. Oh, well, that's too bad. Here I was hoping I'd find out all about the silk business. What do you mean by that? Oh, just conversation. You are in that business, aren't you? Of course. But, hey, who are you, anyway? Name's Marlow. And just why you're prying into my personal affairs, Mr. Marlow? Cause I got a little free advice for you. Cool off before you start the kind of fire you can't put out, huh? So that's it at cowboy Sawyer Marlow. Now you're getting too personal. I suggest that you mind your own business. Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to lose my temper that way. Good night. Yeah, it's bound to be charming, isn't he? Well, Mrs. Morton, where'd you come from? I was standing over there watching. My husband has all the social grace of a tarantula. Well, maybe you should have looked closer before you made the leap. Oh, that's the wonderful thing about him. Yeah. You're not apt to like Paul much when you first meet him. But once you get to know Him? You hate him. Yeah, I'm not sure that's funny. It's not supposed to be. I've been living with him for six months now. So jealous, it's unbelievable. He wouldn't leave me in New York. Oh, no. Insisted on dragging me out to this. This dust bowl with running water. Why a ranch, I'll never understand. He doesn't know one end of a horse from another. Well, with his aptitude, he'll learn. You know, it might be he figured you two might get back together if you had a chance to relax in the open, Mrs. Morton. Mm, so he said. However, we weren't here 10 minutes before he accused me of getting romantic with that leather faced cowboy. Does that make sense? I don't know. Both gentlemen are justified. You're lovely to look at. Somebody ought to remind my husband his idea of welding a marriage is to spend all his time playing gin with that dinner. Who? Doverman, the van and storage character from Los Angeles. Which, of course leaves me saddled with his wife, Carrie. Now there's a cute personality for you if you happen to like neurotic parrots. So, what with the desert, the dame and gin rummy, Virgil began to look pretty good. Is that it? Excuse me, folks. Care to order another drink before dinner? Yes, I would. And I'd like it over there alone. Make a Manhattan, bartender. Strictly Manhattan. And make it double, Mr. Marlow. Good night. Hmm. Now I'm not so sure. It was almost dark when I left the bar and headed down to the bunkhouse where the working personnel of Rainbow Ranch called home. The casual clutter of rumpled cots, scattered pulp fiction and dusty boots gave it the only sign of authenticity I'd seen in the entire place. But aside from that, it was empty. Then a noise from outside brought me around the building. The where I ran up against six and a half lean feet of solitary cowboy with his hat shoved back on his head, pitching horseshoes. He was out of uniform for a flashy dude wrangler, which left him in a faded blue shirt and Levi's that fitted his lanky legs like a pair of bent stovepipes. He spotted me and stood there swinging a battered horseshoe in each hand while I walked up to him. Hello. Hiya, Sawyer. Little dark for horseshoes, isn't it? Little? Hey. Hey, you're good. Good at horses too, huh? I understand you're the only man who can handle that black stallion Thunder. Yeah. What's the secret? No secret. Just have to treat him right. What's on your mind, mister? The fact that you're leaving tomorrow. I reckon you better keep out of my business. Now, look, Sawyer, it takes at least two to make a fight. Fights are poison to Buck Lawson. So I don't like to see my friends poisoned. Now, why don't you take it easy, huh? Lay off. Keep your nose clean. I don't know who you are, mister, but I'll tell you this anyway, seeing as you're so interested. I'm leaving here tomorrow, all right. And I'm gonna square up with a couple of folks first before I go. I got a raw deal here, and I'm just not the kind to take it laying down. What do you mean, raw deal? You're a big boy now. You ought to know better than to get yourself all involved. I'm not much for conversation, fella, but I'm gonna say something real plain so you'll be sure to sell me. Oh. By the time I got myself untangled and back on my feet, the strong, silent fugitive from the old Chisholm Trail was gone. However, my original theory that it takes two to make a fight was still valid. So I decided to find Paul Morton and spend the rest of the evening close to him. His cabin was dark, but I remembered the running gin game he had with a big van and storage man. So I went down the line to the Doberman cabin and knocked. It was Carrie, the perennial dude, who galloped up to open the door. Howdy, stranger. Come on in and set a spell. Our latch is always stringing out. Well, ashore do. Thank you, ma'. Am. My name's Marlow. Orville, this is Mr. Marlow. Howdy, Marlow. Howdy. Hope you'll excuse the looks of the place. Our box of extra clothes just arrived from town. Carrie's been unpacking it. Sit down there, Mr. Marlowe. They're mostly old things. Just throw them on the floor. Oh, thanks, but really I can't stay. I'm looking for Paul Morton. I thought I might find him here. Morton? Say, there's a nice chap. Met him day before yesterday for the first time and won $90 off him in gin already. Haven't seen him tonight, though. Orville was out looking for him himself just a few minutes ago, weren't you, dear? Why, yes. As a matter of fact, it was. You didn't locate him, huh? No, I didn't. You know, he seemed to be all upset this afternoon. Couldn't keep his mind on the game. I thought I'd have a little chat with him to calm him down some. Orville's a whiz at that, Mr. Marlowe. It's not me, Carry. It's this country. I don't see how a man can keep trouble in his mind on a place like this ranch, Marlowe. It can happen, believe me. Poppycock. Why, son, there's something about this open land around here that cleans out a man's head and his heart, too. You sound like a travelogue. I mean it. A few more days of this and mortal forget there ever was such a thing as a cash register. Yes, sir. Give this untamed countryside a chance and it'll cure anything. Yes, well. Marlow, Come here, quick. What was that? Wasn't the call of the world, Mr. Doverman. Lawson. What's the matter, Bill? Come on down to the stable. Hurry. Something terrible's happened. How'd you find out about it, Lawson? One of the boys told me he heard thunder raising a terrible fuss. Come over to check. But by then it was all over. Give me the Latin, Harold, will you? Here. Yeah, here you are. Holy smoke. It's Paul Morton, all right. He's been trampled to death. Oh, it's a ghastly accident, and it's all my fault, Phil. I knew thunder was dangerous and I didn't get rid of it. All right, take it easy, take it easy. There's a lot of questions to be answered before anybody takes the. Hey, wait a minute. Wait a minute. Look at this. Here by the gate. It's just a horseshoe. Stables are full of them, Phil. Yeah, not like this one. Look at it. It's all batted up. Well, all right, it's batted. What's that supposed to mean? Nothing yet. It gives me an idea. Cause the last time I saw one of these was being pitched at nyan stake behind the bunkhouse. What are you getting at? The chances are at least 50. 50 that Paul Morton's death was no accident. It was murder. In just a moment, the second act of Philip Marlowe. But first, perfect musical settings for a Sunday before the 4th will be yours. Tomorrow afternoon, the Symphone at the half hour of fine orchestral music and the Choral Ears. A half hour of brilliant vocal music are regular Sunday afternoon features on most of these same CBS network stations. Now with our star, Gerald Moore, we return to the second act of Philip Marlowe and tonight's story, the dude from Manhattan. When I labeled Paul Morton's death something worse than an accident, Lawson's mouth fell open and the muscles in his face jerked as his eyes moved slowly from me out to the now quiet black stallion in the corral, who somehow or Other seemed to sense the death at our feet. Then, as the trembling man's lips silently formed the word murder, he gestured for me to help him carry Morton's body out of the stable. After that, he looked at the dead man's broken face once more, said he was going to call the sheriff's office, and hurried away. A minute later, Judy Morton stepped into the small circle of light that surrounded what only a short time ago had been her husband. But except for a thin line of perspiration above her lips, she was no different than when I'd seen her last. I just passed Buck on my way down here. Told me my husband was dead. You tell you anything else, Judy? Not how Paul died, I mean. No. It was a stallion, wasn't it? An accident? I doubt it. Why, Marlo? For one thing, this horseshoe. Too close to the body. But this is a stable. And this a horseshoe that's been used exclusively for pitching it a stake in the ground. Here. Look at it. And remember, Cowboy Virgil's favorite sport is horseshoes. Besides, what reason would your husband have for coming down here at this hour? In the first place, he wasn't too crazy about horses, you know. No. But he was about me. Let's move a little away from here, Marlowe. Cigarette? No, thanks. I'm not coming apart at the seams because it isn't in me. I hated Paul. Hated him with all my heart. Marlow, I'm down here only because he pleaded with me, begged me to talk to him once more, to listen to reason. About what? About the decision I came to less than an hour ago. Which was? Divorce. Unconditionally. I thought you said you came out here to try to patch things up. I did. But I also said that we weren't doing a very good job of it. Then tonight, a little after we left you at the bar, Marlowe, I got my hands on the lever I needed to pry myself loose from that jealous maniac. It was a knowledge, Marlow, that my late husband was crooked. Silk business? Yes. While he was drinking his dinner, I went to one of his suitcases for an aspirin. Found what instead? At least three dozen samples of the best silks, made without any importer's or manufacturer's name. And underneath that, $200,000 in cash. I know enough about the silk business to fill in the blanks, Marlow. Hmm. All of which comes under the heading black market, huh? Yes. I added what I had found to the fact that this dude ranch he had insisted on was close to Los Angeles. Close enough for him to run off and conduct his purchasing while I thought he was communing with nature or playing gin with that Mr. Doberman. Then I had him. Mm. You also had a divorce. No strings attached, right? Exactly. Blackmail to get rid of your own husband. Pretty, isn't it? Yeah. Well, at least with this. This accident or whatever it is, it's no longer necessary. No. Now, Judy, only two things are necessary. One, the location of Virgil Sawyer, and the other, you in your own cabin, where I can ask you some questions later. Why do you want to ask me questions? Well, I might be making a big mistake, baby, but it might be that Virgil and you are out for the 200,000 bucks. You know, honey, that man in the saddle might like money, too. I'll see you. When I started back for the bunkhouse, the only place I knew of that might give me a lead on the strong, silent horseshoe pitcher, I realized that tagging Paul Morton's death and murder was one thing, proving it was going to be quite another. And when I was there and the place was empty, without even signs of a hasty departure, I was sure of it, but not by intuition. As was the gentleman standing in the open doorway watching my every move. Orville Doverman, champion of the wide open spaces, didn't believe that a clean cut cowboy could be guilty of anything more unrefined than spitting on a pot bellied stove. Marlowe, I think you're crazy. Buck told me about your finding that horseshoe next to Morton's body and the conclusion you jumped to from there. You're being very hasty, boy, and that's dangerous. And that's the reason I'm here. I don't believe in necktie parties. Next. Hey, hold it. Nobody said anything about lynching your hero. I want to find Sawyer so that if I'm right, we can save the state the time and trouble of a manhunt. But since you brought it up, vigilante, don't scramble for conclusions too quickly yourself. I happen to have a little more to go on than the relative position of a horseshoe. Not that idle gossip that's going around the same at the moment. It figures two ways. Virgil's unhappy enough with the status quo to liquidate the city slicker or Virgil and the squaw light out after a clean start the hard way. Choose one. Nonsense, Marlow. In either case, and especially the stupid suggestion that the girl and Virgil Sawyer are in cahoots. That I can't believe. Well, sentimental reasons, I can't either. Besides, Judy Morton found out enough about her husband within the Last hour to make murder for freedom's sake very unnecessary. She learned he was a crook, Mr. D. If you can stand the disillusionment. Oh, no, Mom. Yes, and shady dealings in silk. Judy didn't go into details about it, but I gather she found out enough to make him sit up and take notice. And that brings us right back to Virgil, boots, saddle and all. Yeah, it does, sort of. And we'll argue the fine points later. But right now, Mr. Doverman, if you want to make sure that everybody gets a square deal, get close to Judy's cabin and stay there. Sentry duty your object. All right. And if I'm wrong about the cowboy, you've done nothing worse than waste your time. Goodbye. I spent the next 20 minutes talking to cowhands, guests, miscellaneous hired men, any and everybody who might have been able to say he went thatta way of Virgil Sawyer with no success. And to make matters worse, when I'd given that up and was on my way back to the lodge to help Lawson wait for the sheriff, I found myself being paged Weston style, of course, by no one else but Mrs. Carrie Doverman. The capital D in dude ranch. Howdy. Howdy, ma'. Am. Oh, Mr. Marlowe. Yeah? Mr. Marlowe, look at this. Look at what I found. I've struck it rich, you might say. Much like the old rustlers. The old rustlers, Mrs. Doberman, stole cattle. Oh, yes. Oh, yes, so they did. I guess I meant those panhandled men. You know, gold is where you find it anyhow. Look, it's a precious stone. Small, but nevertheless precious. Mind while digging for worms, no doubt. Oh, Mr. Marlow, you're teasing me. Yeah. You know very well that this is a polished stone. Funny thing, though, is where I found it. Shall I tell you? Oh, please, please do, Mrs. Dothan. Well, I was just unpacking those clothes that Orville has sent up from Los Angeles. Some slacks and things like that. And, well, when I started to hang a pair up, this fell out of one of the cuffs. And then. Now I wonder how a little old emerald like this ever got there. Well, it was probably mice. Mrs. Emerald. Let me see that, quick. But yes, of course. But believe me, Mr. Marlowe, it can't be very valuable. I'm sure I'm not. What are you talking about? Murder. Or a reasonable facsimile thereof. And a girl named Judy Morton if I don't hurry. Goodbye and bless you. Mrs. Dovermana. You talked too much. But now is the right time. As I ran for Judy's cabin, I didn't know any more about the whys and wherefores of Paul Morton's death than I had before I made small talk with Mrs. Doverman. But I did know that unless Lady Named Luck and I were on the same team, the Rainbow Ranch was due for a second corpse. When I was close enough to the rough oak door numbered eight and Orville Doverman, whom I'd asked to see, was nowhere in sight, the full impact of that responsibility sank into where the wingtips on the butterflies in my stomachs were scratching at my hip pocket until I moved in still closer. And there, in the light of a single lamp that was halo enough for me, I saw the girl from Manhattan nervously lighting one cigarette from the end of another. But more important, very much alive. I didn't bother knocking. Marlo, what are you doing here? What am I doing here, honey? I'm uncrossing fingers and toes alike. You know, they've been that way since I realized that I opened my mouth too wide too soon. Which put you right smack on what used to be known as the spot. Oh, well, that's the way it happened. Yeah, that's the way it. Now look, Judy, baby, you can't know what I mean yet. It's Doverman, honey, the gin player with all the moving vans. He's the one your husband was buying that black market silk from. I didn't know that until a few minutes ago. Which was after I told him where you could be found and that you knew an awful lot. Oh, which Mr. Marlow. He thanks you and warns you not to move you. Oh. See what I mean, Phil? Yeah. Oh, sure, I see. You know, it's funny, Doverman, when I was outside and didn't see you around, did see that Judy here was still in good health. I figured that either you had decided to sit tight until you knew exactly how much she did know or that you already started to run. Yeah, this I didn't count on. And this Marlowe should point up what I said earlier about your jumping to conclusions. It's dangerous. Handling hot silk is child's play. It has been for me for 20 years, Marlow, for. For your husband, Mrs. Morton, it was much more. That's why I had to come to you like this. That's why I had to know. If his stupidity went so far that even you knew of me, you shouldn't have bothered, Mr. Doberman. I didn't. No, but you see, Marlow did. That leaves me even. Correction, Doberman. Paul Morton's dead. You're out in front. I didn't kill Morton Marlow and neither did Virgil Sawyer. I saw it all, my friend. So I can tell you that the man who killed Paul Morton was Paul Morton himself. Suicide? Are you out of your mind? No, not suicide, Mrs. Morton. Merely a plan for murder that backfired. The intended victim was you. His wife. Oh, no. Keep talking, Doverman. Why, Marlow, I'd rather keep you guessing. I wouldn't duck, baby. My shoulder. Now's the man said keep talking. I, I, I, I can't. I'm hit. You'll be again if you don't. Sawyer. No. Stay out of this, Marlow. Come on, Doberman. I'm not going to ask you again. I'm not even going to let you fall until you tell the ring. Hey. Okay, I'll, I'll tell you. I overheard Morton ask him to go to your place first, Sawyer pick up one of your horseshoes. And then he went to the stables near the black stallion stall the horseshoe in his hand. Sawyer, my shoulder. Come on, Doverman, you're not finished yet. I, I figured that he was going to to knock his wife out. Leave Sawyer's horseshoe where it will be found. Then half make it look like an accident. That would fool nobody. Huh? What went wrong, Doberman? Why didn't it work? Oh, he, he approached Thunder from the right side instead of the left. The horse got excited, kicked out and caught him. That dude. Now let go, Sawyer. Sure, Doberman, with pleasure. It was a slow but steady two hours of first aid and questions and answers mixed with a San Bernardino deputy sheriff who, who couldn't quite get over it before Orville Doverman was on his way to a hospital that Featured barred windows. Mrs. Doverman, the complete innocent, was on her way back to Los Angeles. And Buck Lawson, Judy and I were in the bunkhouse watching Virgil Sawyer watch a pot full of water boiled for coffee, ranch style. Well, you know you can't ever tell Marlow this whole thing might have just the right effect, huh? Or put the ranch on the map. I mean, after all, it was a genuine 100% cowboy who saved the day for us. Oh, no, that's not right, Buck. It was Marlow here. I only followed him. Coffee's ready, folks. Oh, that's for me. Let's go. What did make you go up there, Mr. Milo? Oh, a little precious stone, Virgil. An emerald that once fell out of Paul Morton's initial ring. But Marlow, that happened a long time ago. Three, three, four months was just after Paul had returned to New York from Los Angeles. Yeah, and negotiations with Doverman you see, honey, it was Mrs. Doberman, really, who found the missing emerald tonight and a pair of slacks that Orville had sent up here. Then that was proof that Paul must have been with Doberman in Los Angeles before. Yet they claimed to have met for the first time here at the ranch. Yeah, that's what they claimed. That plus what you told me Judy made the man with the moving vans it. And Yo. Hey, Virgil. A coffee's hot, but it's good. Well, anyway, since I told Doverman where you were and that you knew your husband had been dealing in black market silks, he took his cue accordingly. Yes, and fortunately, you yours. Well, that makes it two people who tried to kill me tonight. My husband and his partner. Oh, fine. Good night, gentlemen. Virgil Sawyer made good coffee and lots of it. So another hour went by before we finally broke up and I was outside smoking a cigarette and strolling toward my cabin in the start of a vacation that already had been postponed too long. But halfway there, I stopped at the sound of raised voices. Ahead of me, a man and a woman were arguing violently. And a little away from them on the porch of my cabin, watching the battle of the sexes with consternation while he waited for me, was Buck Lawson, mine host. I turned quickly and hurried back to the bunkhouse where I knew Virgil Sawyer would put me up for the night. Where I knew that early the next morning I could sneak off, find a quiet cool stream and fish a coyote high in the hill someplace. Said I had the right idea. The Adventures of Philip Marlowe. Bringing you Raymond Chandler's most famous character and crime's most deadly enemy star Gerald Moore and are produced and directed by Norman Macdonald. Script is by Mel Danelli, Robert Mitchell and Gene Levitt. Featured in the cast were Charlotte Lawrence, Bill Johnstone, Bill lally, Herb Butterfield, D.J. thompson, Lou Krugman and Jack Carrington. The special music is written by Richard Orant. Be sure and be with us again next week when Philip Marlow says, I went from a mansion in Bel Air to a cheap flat in Southgate looking for a girl with a secret. Who a man in a pork pie had a wise cracking secretary and a fat corpse didn't want me to find. But who I found anyway because of the quiet number. 3 highly individual, highly entertaining mystery adventure shows stand high among the top shows on CBS every Sunday. The Green Llama. Call the Police, Sam Spade. Go adventuring with them every Sunday when they come to you over most of these same CBS stations. This is Roy Rowan speaking. Now stay tuned for Gangbusters, which Follows immediately over most of these same CBS network stations. This is cbs, the Columbia Broadcasting System. Listen. While the makers of Rexall drug products and 10,000 independent Rexall family druggists bring you Dick Powell as Richard diamond, private detective. Good evening. This is your Rexall family druggist with a welcome from the 10,000 independent druggists who have made the word Rexall part of our own store names. We've done that because we recommend and sell the 2,000 or more drug products made by the Rexall Drug Company. Like Rexall Mineral oil, for example. This is the mineral oil specially refined for extra heavy body. What's more, Rexall mineral oil is tasteless, odorless, colorless, non irritating and non habit forming. Quality like that is what we family druggists are talking about when we tell you you can depend on any drug product that bears the name Rexall. Good health to all from Rexall. Now your Rexall family druggist brings you a transcribed half hour with Richard diamond, private detective starring Dick Powell. Pardon me. You know where I might find Mr. Richard Diamond? You want to hire him? Yes. Well, stop being Sebastian friend. Come in, come in. Thank you. Your Mr. Diamond. Well, any resemblance to the Irish washerwoman is purely intentional. Do you always do your own laundry? Always keeps my petty cash from looking too petty. Sit down, Mr. Baxter. Clay Baxter from Oak Mulgey, Oklahoma. Clay Baxter from Okmulgee, Oklahoma, was a man I guess to be in his early 50s. Straight up, he crowded 6 foot 3, counting the 2 inch heels on his handmade boots. Looking at him, I thought of an old Remington print and suddenly felt like singing a course of home on the range. I'd like you to come to Oak Mulby with me, Mr. Diamond. Why, Mr. Baxter. My brother was killed yesterday. The sheriff in. The coroner said it was an accident. I don't believe it. How did you happen to look me up? I raise cattle, Mr. Diamond. I do a great deal of business in Chicago and New York. I wanted a detective with experience. Someone with a good reputation. Bless you. I called a friend on Wall street and he recommended several men. One of them was you. I checked your background. I'm satisfied. Oh, good. I charge 100 a day in expenses. Chicken feed. I'll pay it. And if you catch the man who done it, I'll give you $1,000 bonus. Oh, well, now I can't leave right away. It'll take me at least five minutes to get my affair. Yeah, I can certainly see you appreciate a buck, Mr. Baxter. I appreciate a buck like a Texan appreciates Texas. Texas. Never heard of him. How was your brother supposed to have been killed? Thrown from his horse. Skull fracture. And you don't believe it? I do not. Why? Too good a horseman. It could have happened. Well, if it did, he'd have taken the fall, right? Might have busted something, but wouldn't have killed him. Anything else? His wife. My brother was a wealthy man, Mr. Diamond. His wife will inherit everything. Ranch, cattle. All worth about 8 or 10 million. You think she had something to do with his death? You tell me, Mr. Diamond. I called Helen. Told her I was off to Okmulgee. Promised I'd send her a couple of Navajos or whatever they had out there. Then I took Clay Baxter over to my flat and threw a few things into a suitcase. Oklahoma's dry. So's Richard Diamond. Might get arrested. I don't want to leave it here. Wouldn't make any difference if it was empty, would it? No. Got a couple of glasses? A fifth usually adds up to a full evening, but that's only when Clay Baxter isn't around. When he poured one for the road, the water line receded 6 inches. I had a quick one and he finished it. Now, dead soldier, how do you feel? Oh, lively. Why don't we forget the plane? You just start running for the window, and I'll climb on. Oak Mulge, Oklahoma. Population 17,091 according to the last census. And very hot in August. Baxter's station wagon is waiting at the airport, and the driver took us into town, where I was introduced to the local law. This here Sheriff Billings. How are you, Sheriff? Jim. This Mr. Diamond, he's a private detective from New York. Howdy, Diamond. Howdy. Private detective, huh? Oh, I've been called other things. Still ain't satisfied, huh, Clay? Not yet, and you ain't either. And you know it, Jim. How about it, Sheriff? You think Mr. Baxter's brother was killed deliberately? Coroner says it was an accident. Hit his head on a rock. That ain't what Mr. Diamond asked. Will Baxter was a pretty good rider, but he could have been thrown. All the evidence says he was. Could see plain where his horse bolted. What could have made his horse shy? Snake, maybe. Not that horse, and you know it, Jim. Maybe stepped in a chuck hole. He was limping right bad when he got back to the barn. No signs of anyone else near the body. When I got there, some of Will's boys had already ridden out. Who found him? A couple old miners, Luke and Phineas Merriweather. Well, let's go out to the ranch, Mr. Baxter and take another look at the spot where your brother died. Will Baxter's ranch is 40 miles from here, Mr. Diamond. Maybe you'd like to go out to my place and freshen up a bit. First, you go ahead and shave and shower. I'm going to go build me a drink. Yes, it's quite a place, Mr. Baxter. Glad you like it. Take a swim in the pool if you'd want. But watch out for the catfish. Catfish? I'm a bachelor. Don't use the pool much. And I don't usually have guests. Love catfish for dinner, so I keep them in the pool. I caught a guy once floating bodies in his bathtub. Don't say funny, Harvey. I showered and shaved and met Baxter out by the pool where he was feeding his catfish. I watched a pound of liver disappear like lychee nuts in the Tang War. And we all headed back to town, where we picked up Sheriff Billings. Forty miles later, we pulled up in front of the late Will Baxter's ranch. A little different architecture, but just as impressive as my clients. Okay. Afternoon, Sheriff. Oh, Wilma. Well, man. Wilma, this here's Mr. Richard Diamond. Wilma Baxter, my brother's wife. How do you do? How do you do, Mr. Diamond? Private detective come up from New York. Oh. Well, why don't we all go in the house? It's too hot out here. Mr. Diamond wants to go out and look at the spot where Will got himself killed. Certainly. Have one of the boys fix you up with some horses. When you're done, why not stop back for dinner? Mr. Diamond's eating with me, and he's gonna be pretty busy for a while now. I'll give you a rain check, Mr. Diamond. Thank you. I'd like you to tell me about New York. It's been a long time, and I've almost forgotten what it's like. Let's go, Jim. It's getting late. Bye, Mr. Diamond. Nice meeting you. Goodbye. Mrs. Baxter seems all broken up, don't she? Yeah. Where was she when her husband got killed? Perfect alibi. In town all day. Lot of people saw her. Mighty fine looking woman. Mighty. We all rode down to the stables, and one of the hands saddled up three horses and we started out across the open desert. For a man who had spent all his life riding around in taxi cabs, the experience was just short of agonizing. Just up ahead, Diamond. Swell. Never rode much, did you? No, I always bounce like this. Like to make my money belt jingle. Well, there it is. Whoa. Yeah, whoa. Well, here's where they found the body. Now, where did he hit his head? On that rock? Right there. Did you take an impression of the wound to see if it matched? Nope. Why not? Never thought about it. Well, that's a pretty good reason. Anyway, let's dig that rock out and take it back with us. I spent the next minutes limping around looking for something and came up with nothing except a longing for a hot Epsom sals bath. We dug up the large rock and took it back with us to Wilma Baxter's ranch. Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Oh. Oh. Howdy, Sheriff. Howdy, Frank. This here's Mr. Diamond. Frank diamond, this is Frank Kelly, the ranch foreman. Howdy, detective. Fella, huh? Ms. Boxer told me about you. Said you was doing some investigating. Yes, sir. Scientific investigation, the way the city boys do it. What you gonna do with that? Raw hopscotch. Oh. On second thought, I think we'll take turns untying the knots in my back. Good warm shower, and you'll feel fit as a fiddle. Well, I got a good start. I'm shaped like one. You'll find it a little bit rough out here. Don't. I'll get used to it, Mr. Kelly. I hope you're right. Ain't much like the big city, huh? Just what is the big city like, Mr. Kelly? I ain't never been there. Just what I've noticed. Looks like a man can get pretty soft living in the city. I'd like to show you where I was brought up sometime, Mr. Kelly. We never got around to playing cowboy, though. We were too busy kicking each other's teeth out. See you later, Mr. Baxter. So long, Sheriff. I don't think Frank likes you, Diamond. What about Will Baxter's horse? I take a look at him. Right over there in that stall. Really pulled up lame. Oh, good horse. Never figured to shy at anything. Man, look at that. His hip. Swollen. Really twisted. Something. Steady, boy. Steady. Hey, that looks like an infection. Yeah, the funny thing. It kind of does. What are you getting at, Mr. Diamond? Oh, I'm not getting anything, Mr. Baxter. I just said it looked like an infection. Yeah, we better tell Mrs. Baxter A. Frank, have someone take care of it. Tell me, boys, if you jabbed a horse with something, would that make him bolt? Come on. I want to get back to town and talk with the coroner before we continue with the adventures of Richard diamond, private detective. Here's your Rexall family druggist. Last week a customer said to me, I wish I knew some way to be sure I'm getting enough vitamins. Some way. That's Easy, yes. And inexpensive, too. Why, ma', am, millions of people have found a way to do that. They take Rexall Plenamons. Plenimons? Rexall's popular multivitamin capsules. Just two plenumens a day give you more than your minimum daily requirement of every vitamin for which such requirements have been established. Well, you can't expect much more than that. Yet plenumens do give you more than that. For they also contain valuable liver concentrate and iron plus other factors of the vitamin B complex. Say, they must be expensive. On the contrary, ma'. Am, Rexall plenumens cost you only a few pennies per day. Ask for plenumens at Rexall drugstores everywhere. And remember, you can depend on any drug product that bears the name Rexall. And now back to tonight's adventure with Richard diamond, private detective, starring Dick Powell. Now look here, Jim. Ain't my word good enough? Why, sure it is, Corona. But Clay hired Mr. Diamond to do some investigating, and he's doing it. Clay, I tell you, your brother died from natural causes. I don't think so. But if you insist, I'll show this detective fella the body. I want the head wound matched to this rocket. Okay, but the Marchieri ain't gonna like it. They got him all ready to bury. The coroner led me across the street and into a funeral parlor where I took a look at the late Will Baxter. Six years with the Fifth Precinct homicide and a couple of dozen killings. Should have conditioned me. But like always, the first look shakes something loose in the middle of my stomach and I have to keep swallowing hard. Looks right natural, don't he, Clay? Yeah. They do a good job here. Bully for them. He hit his head right here. Concussion, plain and simple. No other marks or bruises? No. While the coroner rolled the late Will Baxter into one of the back rooms and made a comparison with the head wound and the rock we'd brought in from the ranch. We went out on the front porch for some air. I lit a cigarette and thought about an old case I'd worked on five or six years before for. You got a cigarette? Sure, Doc. Peony all right. Fine thing, head wound doesn't match the rock. Sure doesn't. Wound is too deep. Rocks round and flat. Nothing sticking up to go that deep. Then I want an autopsy. Why? Fracture still killed him. I doubt it. When someone plans a murder, they don't count on one blow to do the trick. But there's nothing else that could have done it. Nothing. You can see I've met someone here In Okmulgee that I'm pretty sure is wanted for another killing very similar to this. Now, Doc, go make that autopsy, and fast. You think maybe you found something, Diamond? You. You think Will was killed deliberately? Maybe. But we'll have to wait for the autopsy. In the meantime, I'd like to go out and visit those two old timers, Luke and Phineas. That's right, Sheriff. Well, to my dangerous, but. Come on, I'll take you out. You better wait here for the report. Mr. Baxter and I will go on out. All right. You can use my horses so you won't have to go all the way back to the ranch. Horses? Well, the Merryweathers are on the other side of town. Not about 10 miles. No roads. Oh, horses. 10 miles. I mean, never play kick the can again. Oh, you really don't take the horses, do you, Diamond? Maybe if you could find me a nice, long, thin one. Holy. Ike. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stepping. That's one of the Merryweathers. Well, let's get out of here. Come on, Horse. Now, come on. I'm yellow and I admit it's. It's okay, Diamond. That's just the boy's way of letting you know not to come any farther unless they say so. Swell. Greetings. What happens now? Hey, up there, Luke. Phineas. What you want? It's Clay Baxter. I got a friend here who wants to talk to you, genius. Yeah, Luke. Hey, Baxter. Got some friend who wants to palaver. I don't feel like palavering. Better shoot him. Giddy up. Just. Just take it easy. Take it easy. They always act like this. He don't want to palaver. I gotta shoot you if you don't promote. It's important. About my brother, he. Ned? Yeah, Luke. It's about his brother. The digging we found t' other day. Oh, all right, I guess let one of them come up. Back to it here, Luke. Send your friend on. Up. And up I went, leaving my better judgment running off across the desert. I climbed a small hill and found myself standing at the entrance of an old mine shaft. Luke and Phineas Merriweather stood on either side, shotguns ready, pointed right at my chest. Start talking. Well, gentlemen, my. My name is Diamond. Don't pay no important names. What do you want? Just wanted to ask some questions about the man you found the other day. You a Polishman? Well, kind of. Shoot him. Oh, now, now, now, wait a minute. I'm not a real policeman. Then what are you? I'm a. I'm a private detective, Luke. Yeah? What's the matter? It's an honest profession, fellas. Gotta make a living. You a real live private detective? Well, I'm a private detective. The real life part I'm depending on. Well, my goodness gracious. Come on in. Have some vittles, huh? Why, mister, me and Finny read all them stories about you fellas. Uh huh. We filled up one whole tunnel with old detective magazines. You fellas really are something. Wait a minute. What's wrong? Let's see your badge. Oh. Oh, sure, sure. There you are. Oh, yes, sir. Well, I'll be dogged. Come on in, friend. Come on in. I'd like to ask you some questions about this here Dick Tracy fella. Well, one minute I'd faced two shotguns. The next I was turned into an honored guest. I had coffee and biscuits with Luke and Phineas and answered enough questions about the private detective business to fill a dime novel of my own. I squeezed in enough questions to find out that the boys hadn't seen or found anything unusual when they discovered Will Baxter's body. Four cups of coffee and a dozen biscuits later, I bid the Merryweathers a fond farewell. Returned to Clay Baxter. They loved you. Oh, worshiped me starting a Richard diamond fan club. Well, did you find out anything? No. Well, give me your hand. I'll help you up on your horse. Oh, couldn't I just walk back? Come on, horse. Hold still. Steady, boy. Clay Baxter, sitting in the saddle that leaned down, grabbed my hand to help me up on my horse. And that was when he got it. His horse took out. With the wounded man still up and hanging on, I booted my horse in the ribs. Oh, I took off after Baxter like Citation On a good day, I closed my eyes, prayed a little, and tried to remember every jockey I'd ever seen before. Suddenly, I looked up and spotted Baxter's horse dead ahead, standing still and right in my path. Whoa. Oh. Well, I guess it's just my time. If I don't die from this bullet I got in me, I'm gonna do it from laughing. How is he, Doc? Oh, he'll be all right. Bullet went clean through just under the collar bone. Didn't break anything. How do you feel, Mr. Diamond? Crippled. Any idea who shot Clay? No. Clay said he thought it might have been the Merryweather boys. No, it couldn't have been. Why not? The Merryweather boys use shotguns, not rifles. What about that autopsy, Doc? Well, come on. What about it? You was right. Will Baxter didn't die from a skull fracture. What was it? And you know what was used for Sure. A long, thin instrument. Whoever did it pulled the lower eyelid down. Killed Will Baxter by jabbing something through the eye into his brain. Probably hit him over the head to knock him off the horse. And then got down and made sure. And then jabbed his horse in the flank to make him bold. Nasty way to kill a man. It's been done before. Not a man's way of killing. Wilma Baxter was in town all day. When Clay comes around, tell him I borrowed his station wagon going out to see Wilmer. Going out to a ranch. I want to take another look at Will Baxter's lame horse. And, Doc, I want to borrow a pair of surgical probes. I climbed into the station wagon close to an hour later, pulled up on the side of the road. The gate to the ranch house was another hundred yards up, so I piled out, climbed the tall white fence and slipped into the barn. Steady, fella. Steady. Steady. The horse's left flank was still swollen. Very close to a serious infection. I ran my hand over the spot. Steady, boy. There was something still stuck in the flesh. So I used the surgical probes and prayed the horse wouldn't kick my brains out. Whoa. Whoa. Steady, boy. Steady. There. Sorry, fellow. I didn't know you were a vet. Mr. Diamond. Huh? Oh. Good evening, Mrs. Baxter. You know, in this part of the country, you can get shot for horse stealing. Oh, not stealing. Just taking this out of your horse's flank. What is it? That's a piece of a long needle. Might be a hat pen or something. I think you'd better tell me what this is all about. Well, certainly. Your husband was murdered. That's impossible. Suit yourself. But he was. Somebody hit him over the head, knocked him from his horse, jabbed this needle into his eye, then jabbed it into the horse's flank so the horse would pull up lame. Look like he'd shied. The killer tried to shoot me this evening, but he missed and got Clay Baxter instead. Who do you think did this? I don't know. The method doesn't fit A man. A woman, then? Well, the blow on the back of the head rules out a woman. Too much force. What have you got left? What? I started with a man and a woman. Very interesting theory. You're from New York, aren't you? I've been there. I thought so. Your face is familiar. I haven't been in New York in at least 10 years, Mr. Diamond. Oh. Funny. Well, I've got to go out to the Merryweathers with those two old miners who found my husband. Mm. They saw the murderer. What? Yeah, that's why I know how it was done. I was out there earlier and I've got to go back after a sworn statement. Well, why didn't they speak up before this? Afraid. Said it was none of the business. See you later, Mrs. Baxter. Have another biscuit, Inspector? No, thanks, fellas. Ten's plenty. So will Baxter was murdered, huh? That's right. And Mrs. Baxter thinks you two saw who did the killing. Gonna lay a trap, huh? Yes, Luke, gonna lay a trap. Now, Look, I remembered Mrs. Baxter from someplace the first time I saw her. Then when I found out how the murder was committed, I recalled a case very similar back in New York. Man was hit over the head, pushed down a flight of stairs, his brain pierced by a hat pin. A man actually did it, but a woman planned it. The man was caught, but the woman disappeared. Why'd they do it? The victim was insured. They wanted to make it look like an accident. Come on, we better spread out. We should have company pretty soon. The two old timers took off their coats and gave me some beat up pants which I stuffed with pillows and blankets. In five minutes flat, I had two dummies sitting with me at the little table. You think they'll fall for it? Well, you can't tell. But you two go on outside and wait until somebody comes in. I just want him to try for one of the dummies. Well, what if he tries for you, Killjoy? Luke and Phineas took their place outside the mine. And I smoked a dozen cigarettes. And then I heard someone coming in, moving quietly up the tunnel toward the light. I played it big. Well, that's. That's fine, Phineas. Now, if you'll just sign this statement. I rolled, and the dummy that represented Phineas Merriweather doubled over from the force of the slug. He shot again and Luke's dummy toppled. I kicked the lamp out before he got around to yours truly. Two down and one to go, Diamond. I'm afraid I got a big surprise for you, friend. I ain't worried. You should be. That wasn't even close. You're a lousy shot. Yeah, you missed earlier this evening and got Clay Baxter instead. I'll make up for it. No, you won't, Train. Drop it. You heard him. Drop it. Okay. All right. Don't you wait a minute. When I get the light. Hey, it's Kelly fella. Yeah, you're getting way out of line for a ranch foreman, Kelly. Give it to him, Mr. Diamond. Who had you kill Will Baxter? You know, Kelly, you said something Today about getting soft in the city. Wonder just how soft I've gotten. Maybe you'd like to find out. Turn him loose, boys. Yes, sir, you are. Now, go to it, Mr. Diamond. I don't like getting shot at. It. It makes me real unhappy when anyone runs around killing people. Stop him good. Shut up, Feeny, and let him fly. Now, now, Kelly. Why'd you kill Will Baxter? Wilma Baxter talked me into it. Promised me a sheriff ring. And for that, you killed a man, huh? It's a big rank. I'll get up. Sure hate to see you leave, Mr. Diamond. I hate to go myself. Boys love them biscuits. Maybe we'll get up and see you in New York sometime. Hey, Kelly's coming too. Doesn't like being tied to his horse like that, I guess. Finny. Yeah, Duke. Fellas coming too? Hit him with something? Sure. Again. Here's your Rexall family druggist. I often think there's no common ailment quite so distressing as acid stomach. And there's certainly no relief for it quite as fast and effective as Bismorex. This famous Rexall antacid often neutralizes excess acidity within one minute. And the scientifically balanced ingredients of Bismorex work in sequence, easing gastric distress and leaving a soothing protective covering on irritated stomach membranes. Yes, Bismorex gives relief that's not only quick but continuous and prolonged. Ask your Rexall druggist for Bismorex. He'll tell you you can depend on any drug product that bears the name Rexall. Good health to all from Rex. Richard Diamond, Private Detective, stars Dick Powell in the title role and is written by Blake Edwards with music composed and conducted by Frank Worth. Featured in tonight's cast were Hal March, Arthur Q. Bryan, Virginia Gregg, Barton, Yarborough, Wilms Herbert and Wally Mayer. Richard Diamond, Private Detective, is transcribed in Hollywood by Jaime Del Valle. This is Bill Foreman inviting you to be with us next Wednesday at this time when we will again bring you Dick Powell as Richard diamond, private detective. Hi, you beautiful. Get lost, bristlepuss. You need a shave. But I have shaved. What else do you want me to do? Silly boy. She wants you to go stag. Go stag? But why? Because stag is Rexall's exclusive line of men's good grooming aids. Like Stag brushless shave cream. No fuss, no massage. Just smooth it on and presto. You get a clean, close shave. Your face stays smooth and whiskerless all day long. I'll do it. I'll do it. I'll go stag. That's it. Join the stag line now at Rexall drugstores everywhere. Yes. To make girls care. Go stag. Next week, both Groucho Marx and Bob Hope will be back on NBC. The Adventures of the Saint, starring Tom Conway. The Saint. Based on characters created by Leslie Charteris and known to millions from books, magazines and motion pictures, the Robin Hood of modern crime now comes transcribed to radio starring Hollywood's brilliant and talented actor, Tom Conway as the Saint. Coming? Yes. Ain't you gonna ask me in, partner? Hello, cowboy. If you've lost your horse, let me in. I gotta talk to you. I gotta. All right. Come in, partner. What can I do for you? You Templar, the man they call the Saint? That's what's engraved on my halo. Well, I'm McGowan. The Call Me Tex. Well, it fits. Born and raised in Texas and aiming to die there. Somebody's stopping you. Somebody don't care where it happens, just so long as it's now. Here. Look at this hat. A funny place for air holes. Not so funny when they're bullet holes, though. Run out of rustlers to shoot at? I was bushwhacked, pardner. I was stepping out of a taxi and some sidewinding, bushwhacking polecat took a shot at me. Well, we'll head him off at Eagle Pass. Go on. Well, I came to New York to have fun, not to be killed. That's logical. You reckon you can ride shotgun on me? You've got me confused with the police department. I understand they have a special bureau that does nothing but protect visiting cars. I don't want the police department. I'll pay. I'm not in business. Look, money's money, and you're human. Oh, so you've noticed that, have you? And I ain't exactly a poor man. Raising beef's a big money business these days. Yeah, so is buying it. What do you fellas fatten those cows on that makes a steak so expensive? Broccoli. You don't want my money. It's only money. How about a cow? That's an interesting thought, but the management of this apartment house is so stuffy, the only livestock permitted is dogs and cats. Oh, I don't mean a cow on the hoof. One for the broiler. I beg your pardon? When I get home, I'll personally airmail you one once a week. The best dern stake this side of Fort Worth. You interest me. Well, I'm bought. Go ahead and brand me good. Made me feel better. You made me feel hungrier. Just see that I don't get killed, partner. That's all you're supposed to do. I always like to do a little more than I'm supposed to. I'll see that neither of us gets killed. Now what's all the shooting for? In a couple of days I'm going to Chicago to have a talk with a fellow. The fella knows I'm coming and he ain't hankering none to see me. Oh, so he sent someone to head you off with a gun? Yeah. Why? It's just a little business matter. You see he. Oh, but come on, partner, tell you all about it somewhere else. This is New York City. Let's go live it up some and we can talk during it. And what have you got in mind? Heard about a saloon where a dozen purty gals come out and dance the can can. I'm fixing to cut one out from the herd. J. Hey, J. What's the matter partner, all out of bubble water? No, but that little tor. We're going to wager. Where's that other key so of champagne I ordered? You haven't told me what he did. Who's that? Simon the Fell in Chicago. Oh him. The varmint's only been short waiting me on my beef, that's all. Know what I mean? Yes, my butcher invented it. A thousand head. That's it boys. Fill up them glasses. We're going to liver up tonight. Where are we now, Mr. Templar? Greenwich Village, 52nd Street. Now, about Chicago. You know I got a sudden hankering to see that old horse of mine. Uh huh. Please Tex, don't cry. Now when you get to Chicago. Just an old cow pony. But I wouldn't swap him for all the horses in Kentucky. Yes, I felt that way about a girl once. Now about the man in Chicago. That cringing pole cat. Oh, so you do remember him. He underweight a thousand head of my steers on a rigged up scale. Cost me 20, maybe £30 a head. That's a lot of T bones. Who is this fellow? Oh, he's just now decided something. What? Next time I come to New York City, I'm bringing that old horse with me. Got a feeling he'd kind of like all this. Where are we now, partner? 52nd Street? No, Greenwich Village. Who'd you say the man in Chicago was? The critter who's been shoving all my cattle out of the Chicago market the last 10 years. Years or so. No telling how many pounds of beef he bamboozled me out of. And all that time. So you are going to Blow the whistle on him, huh? Huh? Meaning what? Tell the police? Nope. I ain't even telling you, partner. I want this critter all myself, Texas style. Yahoo. That Yankee music is wonderful. Warms a wadi blood. Where do we go from here? Home. Here you are, buddy. Hotel Wentworth. Just wait here a moment, driver. That's a new twist. You always take a little walk before you pay off the cab driver? Only when I'm playing bodyguard. How much? 140, it says. Who you looking for, Brownies? Help me haul my cowboy friend inside, will you? I don't think I'll be able to wake him. Not wake him? He laughed. What? There's a saloon across the street, Buddy. He's making a beeline for it. Oh, for the love of it. Wait a minute. A buck 40. Here, keep the change. Thanks. Wait a minute. You're down, fool. Tex, stand back. But do you want it, too? You murderous rat. You dirty. No. You do want it. Okay, now it gone jam. Now it's going to be jammed down your throat. Killer. I'm going to. Oh, nice work, St. Come on, Nick, let's get out of here. Well, now, Mr. Templar. Hello, nurse. And how are we today? You're fine. How am I? I'll let you know just as soon as I've checked your pulse. What are you doing for dinner tonight? I have a date. Too bad. Besides, you're not leaving the hospital until tomorrow. How can you ask me out? It's just a form of exercising. You're very beautiful. Mr. Templar, if you keep me talking, how can I check your pulse? Why bother? To see if it's normal, of course. Well, if my pulse is normal when you check it, then I'm not. Oh, you and your jumps. Oh, I. I forgot. You have another visitor. Oh. Blonde or brunette? Redhead. Oh, cute. I think so. But you wouldn't. No, it's that nice young lieutenant from the homicide Bureau. Oh, again. I. I suppose it would be pointless to tell him I'm out. Can I come in? Zeppelin, Obviously. Come in. Lieutenant Barton. I was just going. Thank you, Molly. You're welcome, Lieutenant. You. You don't have to ask, Lieutenant Martin. The answer is no. Thanks. Now, what's the question? Have I remembered anything I forgot to mention? About Tex McGowan's killer, isn't it? No. This time I'm here with an invitation. Oh, a party, the morgue and. Oh, that. The doctor told me I was past the critical stage. The picture morgue down at headquarters, more romantically known as Rugg's Gallery. Oh, you want me to look at faces as soon as you're strong enough. Might just be that the guy who dumped McGowan left his face with us one time or another. Well, it'll be a nice change in the routine. What will? Getting out of here. Hand me my clothes, Lieutenant. Now, wait a minute. You're not due to blow this joint till tomorrow. Lieutenant Varden, are you a public servant? Well, I'm a public cop, so I'm a public servant. Hand me my clothes. You sure? Positive. Besides, there's very little point in a patient staying in the hospital when he's making so little progress clearing up a concussion in three days. Time is in progress. I mean, with that nurse. I'm not getting anywhere. Yeah. No. You know, huh? Because I am. Oh, now, don't look at me like that, Saint. We public servants got to live too, you know. Well, come on. We'll go look at pictures. Well, no. This one. No. Take a look through these. No. Oh, I'll take this one. Huh? Oh, for. How did a pinup girls picture get in here? I don't know, but it certainly breaks the monotony. This one? No. This? No. Not bad. Nope. One of these. Well, well. The guy who killed Tex McGowan? No. My old geometry. Teach this? No. Here. Pardon me. No. Him. Hey. Yeah, I know. The boy most likely to succeed in your graduating class. The boy most likely to get the electric chair for shooting down Tex McGowan at last. You sure like Stanley finding Livingston. See Nick Nymoschenko. Check Chicago police file. That's practically done. Thanks. Separate thanks refused. I've got a slight interest in this tricker man myself, you know. If you don't believe me, ask my head. I see what you mean. Will you stay until I check on the Macheno? I'll stay. Well, I got Nemoschenko. Where? Chicago. Cops out there grabbed him when he came off a plane. Good. You going? Uh huh. You want it? Delighted. Nice of you to ask. You can clinch the identification for us. When are we leaving? Well, there's a train at midnight. Enough time for you. I'll go home and pack a bag. Suppose I pick you up at your apartment in about half hour? I'll be ready. Thanks again for the invitation. Pardon. And, Lieutenant, I think I'll forgive you. Forgive me? For stealing my nurse while I was unconscious. About time you got home, Saint. What? You know what I am? Animal, vegetable or mineral? I'm the fella that watched you come out of the little building at police headquarters where they keep the pictures. Well, it's an interesting hobby. I admit, but I slugged you once, Saint, when my cousin's gun jammed up the other night. I guess now I gotta make it more permanent. Don't bother on my account. It's on my cousin's account. You the only fella can send him to the hot seat. You're the only eyewitness he killed that cowboy. You'll excuse me while I get on with my packing, won't you? I. Where you're going, Saint, you ain't going to need to pack nothing for no. You think you're going to Chicago, but you ain't, Saint. Well, must you be poetic at a time like this? You ain't going to go to Chicago and put no finger on Nick. Oh, now, wait a minute. I. Are you going to go to Chicago and I'm going to beat you to death right here in New York? Well, you answer me. Oh, you call that in there? Who's that? Detective Lieutenant Varden. Would you like to meet him? We'll see you again soon. Come in. Von Butler. What are you sitting on the floor for? I've been entertaining, you know, company. Yeah? What happened to him? Oh, well. No use going after them out the service door. Practically flew shy only of policemen. So he bellowed you. Hey, caught me with my vitality down. Remember, I was a hospital case only the day before yesterday. You need protecting. Come on, let's catch that train. You can take me the whole sad story on the way to the station. It's a good thing this train had a second coat of paint, because that's what we caught it by. Here, this is us. Drawing Room Day. Excuse me, could one of you gentlemen tell me where to find drawing room C? Yeah, is there one? Right. You'd better let me handle it. Pardon. You policeman are so dropped. Drawing room C. I'm so helpless on trains. Oh, that's a pity. I'm always lost. I'm always finding things. Are you? I. Oh, there's drawing room C right next to yours. We're neighbors sometimes. That's a very interesting relationship. If you should ever want to borrow anything, neighbor. Oh, I've got everything. Yes, you have. But if you should need something. Well, after all, what are neighbors for? I never was really sure until now. Well, goodbye, neighbor. You know, Lieutenant, these trains are getting better equipment all the time. You Dio, Varden. Lieutenant. Oh, what's my day on? Get her off your mind. She'll be there when you get back. Although they are rather prone to elope with interns. Templar, what do you think? Talking about my nurse or Should I say our nurse? Get her off your mind and start concentrating on who hired Nick Nikoso to smoke down Tex McGowan. Hey. Hey, where are you going? You don't have to be a detective to guess that. Oh, I'm tired of cards. I'm. I'm going to be neighborly for a while. Yes? Oh, it's you. Neighbor. See, I knew it would come to this. I'd like to borrow something. What have you got in mind? Oh, anything. What have you got? Maybe we'd better talk it over. My name's Linda Jarvis. Simon Templer. Oh, it sounds very distinguished. Won't you come in? All my life I've been easily persuaded. Now, I want you to tell me all about yourself. You're going to Chicago for business? Pleasure? Well, it started out to be business. And your friend? When I first met you in the corridor before, didn't I hear you say he was a policeman? Oh, did you? Fascinated by crime and policemen. And I bet you're going to Chicago to arrest somebody. Oh, you must tell me about it. Please. It's so fascinating. Only in the comic books. The man you're going to arrest, what did he do? Is he a bank robber? A murderer? Please tell me everything. I'm all ears. You are? Well, fancy that. Oh, Simon. So enjoyed the trip. But you didn't tell me half of what I expected to hear about crime and criminals. Well, there were many more important things to talk about. Do you happen to have a phone number handy? Only my own, but I don't think I'm going to give it to you. Not is that being neighborly? Why, we were, uh. Oh, Lieutenant Varden on his way to fetch me, and there's an impatient look on his face. Look, Linda, when can I see you again? I don't mean to break up what appears to be a beautiful friendship, but we're expected at Chicago Police headquarters today. In other words, right about me. In the arm. No, only in the arm. Linda, she blue. Right after the shot. Look, I'll be all right. You go after her. All right. Pardon. Excuse me. Please let me through. Please. Please let me through. Come on, buddy. A girl. Tall, brunette. You see her in that cab, the one turning out up there? Follow her. Hurry. Hey, Misty. Her cab stopping. So I see. Pull up to the curb right here. She's getting up that apartment house. Okay, this is the end of the line. Wait for me. It ain't going to be long, is it? My shift ends in a half an hour. I've been pushing this hack all night. I'LL be back in a few minutes. Don't worry about it. Who is it? Flowers for Ms. J. All right, so I'm not a rogue. No, you can't come in. Sure I can. See, I'm in. How dare you. This is outrageous. Not nearly as outrageous as putting a finger on a fellow so that a rifleman knows who to shoot down. I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about. Oh, sure you have, baby. Sure you have. That bullet was for me, wasn't it? Lieutenant Barton just happened to stroll into it. Simon, darling, why should I want to have you killed? I don't know you that well. But you know me well enough to know that I'm the only eyewitness to a murder and that I should be eliminated, don't you? But I. What reason would I have? If I should fail to identify certain Nick Nimoshenko as the gunman who shot down Tex McGann, then the possibility of Mr. Nimoshenko's telling who hired him to do the job is very slight. I still have no idea what you're talking about. Then suppose we go down to police headquarters and I'll tell you all about it. Well, it's about time. How long was I supposed to keep him talking before you ready to swing that club? Oh, I thought I'd let him feel he was living for a while. You know, Linda, I told this sucker he hadn't ought to come to Chicago. Oh, I told him. George beginning to wake up, is he? Splendid. There's some questions I must ask him. He's beginning to flutter his eyes, boys. What? Oh, yes. What are you three staring at? Haven't you ever seen a man with two heads before? Feeling better, Mr. Templar? Not as good as when I was unconscious. It can be a range, sucker. Making you unconscious is how I earn my pay. You had a better future when you were swinging through the trees. At least you were your own boss. That mean you're calling me an ape? If the fur fits, wear it. All right, wise guy. Now I'll never mind. Stanley. Stanley. Throw him a banana, Stanley. All right. Better not irritate him, Simon, darling. He's hot headed. Soon he'll be sitting in a chair that's going to make him hot all over. And so will you, Linda. And last night on the train, you said such sweet things to me. Remember? I remember. Next time I go anywhere, I'll ride a freight. You meet a better class of tramps. Georgie's grouchy, aren't you, Simon, darling? Stop pestering him, Linda. Let's get on with this. Yes, let's. Tex McGowan was a talkative man, was he not? You tell me. It's hardly likely that you. You'd agree to interest yourself in this affair without knowing all the facts. Facts? Concerning me. Who are you? What do you do besides train apes? George Hagerty. I'm a cattle broker. I'll bet you haven't been called Honest Weight Haggerty much lately. So he did tell you. What you do to a scale could outmode reducing diets. What else did McGowan tell you? You had it. No, sir. Springs, Stanley. Okay, puss. The pleasure is mine. All right. All right, Stanley. Let's keep him conscious for a while, shall we? You needn't bother, Mr. Temple. I trust you don't think all this is just idle curiosity on my part. Oh, don't apologize. I want to know how much McGowan told you so that I'll know how much you might have told the police. Thanks for the blueprint. What I mean is, if certain facts are known to the police, then it might be. Well, it's quite possible, that is, that they'll be able to. Stop stabbing yourself. You want to know if the police have anything that establishes you as Nemeshenko's sponsor. Well, have they? Next time you see your barber, get the top of your head shaved. The ones up at Sing Sing are so messy. You're lying. They don't know. Okay, I'm lying. Sweat it out, killer. Sweat it out. You mean beat it out, don't you, Stanley? How much went over lightly again? Not too lightly. But don't kill him until later. Well, Temper going to talk to me now? What's the use of George? He'll never tell the truth. I know. I had a date with him. You're boasting. This is just a waste of time. Let Stanley get it over with. That's what I say, boss. If the cops knew anything about us, they'd have been here a long time ago. Yes, I suppose you're right. All right, Stanley, how do you want it done? Oh, anyway, I don't care. Well, I do. That's what attracted me to you from the start. Linda. You looked like a neat housekeeper. Shut up. All right, take him out of here and throw him into Lake Michigan. But I didn't bring my bathing suit. Who? I haven't the least idea. Shall I answer it? You have to. The doorman knows you're in. Very well. Whoever it is, get rid of him and pass. Yes, let me, guy and I'm going to pin his ears back. That's what I'm going to do. But I. Look here, you can't burst into here like that. You'd be surprised at what I can do when I'm sore. And believe me, I'm. Oh, so there you are. Hello, Captain Carson. Don't go giving me no lip, brother. I told you I was off duty in a half an hour and you said that you. Hey, how'd you get your face all banged up? It's all in the day's work. What's going on here? You've got your men stationed at all possible exits, Captain. Well, I. Haven't you, Captain? Well, sure. Oh, yeah. They surround the whole building. Fine, Captain. And here are your three murderers, just as I promised. Now we. Wait a minute. This doesn't look like any cop I've ever seen. Don't let him reach for that gun. Oh, no, you're not. That's me. Go get me there. Oh, you d. Thank you. Stanley. Stanley. Hit him. Hit him. Not me. I ain't going to hit no cop. Spoken like a gentleman of the old school. Not when they got all the exits covered. Especially. I'm giving up. That's using your head, Stanley. Hey, Captain, here's my gun. I'm ready to a. I don't want your gun. I just want. Take it, you fool. Take it. Okay, I'll got it. Now, do I get my fair? Yes, you get your fair, my friend. And you know what I'm going to give you for a tip? What's that? A new cab. But first, get on the phone and tell the police to come over, will you? Tell them there are some people here I'd like them to meet. Foreign you have been listening to another transcribed Adventure of the Saint, the Robin Hood of modern crime. And now, here is our star, Tom Conway. Ladies and gentlemen, in our cast, you heard Joyce McCluskey as Linda and Sandra Gould as the nurse Broke temple plate text. Ted De Courcy, or George Lamont Johnson, was the lieutenant. Ed Mack, Stanley and Howard McNear the cab driver. This is Tom Conway inviting you to join us again next week at the same time for another exciting adventure of the Saint. Good night. Tonight's script of the Saint was written by Michael Cramoy. The Saint, based on characters created by Leslie Charteris, is a James L. Safier production and is directed by Helen Mack. Tom Conway is soon to be seen in the Warner Brothers production painting the clouds with sunshine. And all you Saint fans will be glad to know that the Saint comic Books are on sale at all newsstands. Your announcer, Hal Gibney. It's the Silver Jubilee on NBC. Now stay tuned for more great mystery entertainment as Lloyd Nolan stars in Martin Kane, Private Eye. Yes, now hear Martin Kane, Private Eye, on this same NBC station. He's the daring private investigator who's become a popular hero throughout the nation. Now you'll hear Lloyd Nolan as Martin Cain every Sunday immediately following the Saint. Listen first for the Saint and then stay tuned for Martin Cain, Private Eye, starring Lloyd Nolan. Hear him next on NBC, the National Broadcasting Company. Now, Frank Sinatra transcribed as Rocky Fortune. NBC presents Frank Sinatra starring as that footloose and fancy free young gentleman, Rocky Fortune. When it comes to employment, I am what you might call a connoisseur. I have jobs which are strictly out of this world. The last one I had nearly put me there permanently. I am instructed to report to the 9th Avenue Arena. When I get there, I find the horse follies of 1954 is all over the place. The legit title is Grand National Rodeo. And I find the boss, an old guy with a hat you could stew tomatoes in, hanging over the rail watching a cowboy ride on a bull which must have just sat down on a hornet. You, Colonel Araby, Ride him. Ride him. Look at that boy. Stuck to that critter's bike like he had a pot of glue in his hip pocket. Excuse me, I'm looking for Colonel Larrabee. He made a trouble in the car. That boy's the best brainer bull rider I've seen in 20 years. Get that critter away from him. Talk on it. How many times have I told those broken down tramps to get him away from. Look out. He's clear. Poppies. I'm over the fence rail. I gotta tell them hands to move in quicker. Don't look good when a rider gets gored by the bull. It's bad publicity. Gets the Humane Society down on you. I don't mean to interrupt, but are you Colonel Larrabee here? I am. Who are you? Rocky Fortune. The agency said that you needed an administrative assistant. Administrative assistant? I told that agency I wanted an Aaron boy, somebody from the west. Sure, that's me. You from the west? Yeah. Leather daven. You get any further west than that, you're on the Hudson River. Ah. Oh, come on, Pop. You just want somebody to run errands. He doesn't have to qualify as a top hand. I suppose not, dude. There. Watch. Keep that next rider. Well, Mr. Fortune, I'm Jane Larrabee, Colonel. Here's my father. If you're gonna work for the rodeo, you'll just have to get used to me. So West Journey makes Wild Bill Hickok look like a sophomore bastard. Now, Janie, don't you go running down the West. All right, young man? You mean I'm all right? Okay. What am I supposed to do? Anything I tell you to. Mostly run errands and answer the telephone for me. The show's on. I'm all over this barn. I need somebody to keep me in touch with the office. Sure. I'm the tail on your dog. Yeah. All right, Fortune, I guess I'm stuck with you. You can start right now. You go down to my office and bring up the tally on the box office receipts for today's matinee. It's on my desk. Sure. Where's your office? Down those stairs over there. My name's on the door. Reet, dad. Reet. Huh? Westerner. I have to pull myself away from the fence rail and I hear the snap as my eyes peel off. Jane Larrabee. She's one of them tall dames dressed like the rest of the cowboys in Levi's and fancy shirt. But somehow the shirt turns out fancier than it was originally intended and she manages to look somewhat different from Gary Cooper in similar circumstances. The Colonel's office is down a long hall which looks like the Canal street station of the Broadway subway. I open the door and walk in. For a second, I think I'd forgotten to open the door. Something clobbered me behind the ear and I got down for a long count. And just as I'm beginning to come up for air, I hear somebody coming down the corridor. I open one eye and spot a pair of bow legs that could walk over a beer barrel without noticing it. What are you doing down there? Oh, my head. Where's that list I sent you for? It's been close to an hour. I was slugged. Well, come on into my office and I'll. What happened in here? Looks like somebody tried to turn the desk inside out. The guy that slugged me. I figured that might happen. Some low down coyote tried to rob me. Maybe we better call the cops, huh? No, no. If Larry can't handle his own affairs without calling on a chef, he might as well fold up. Besides, it'd be bad publicity for the show. Colonel, it's almost time for you. Hey, what's this? You're glad you come along, Ringo. Some Pat Rack slugged Fortune and busted into my desk. Fortune, this is my top hand, Ringo Durham. Howdy. Howdy, Grand. I told you not to leave all that money around. If you'd only put it in the bank. I don't hold with no banks. I want my money where I can lay my hands on it. Did you have much dough stashed in the roll top? They had the receipts for the matinee. $25,000. That ain't hay, Pop. They're holding up the entrance key. What's the matter? Somebody broken in the Colonel's desk? Pop, did they get the money for the note? Nah, don't you worry, Janie. There's evenin show yet. But it's due at midnight. If you don't have $45,000, ACA takes over the show. Who's ACA? Amusement Corporation Associates. They got a lien on the show. Pop, why couldn't you put the money in the bank? I begged him, Jane. Oh, I know you did, Rango. Pop, hda's been trying to take over your show for 10 years now. Now, don't you worry, honey. I ain't gonna let them pies and prairie dogs get a hold of my show. I built it up from a Wheel of Fortune booth at the county fair and I ain't gonna lose it now. But the money. You won't be able to make the payment, Pop. What are we gonna do? Jane, you know I've got enough saved up. You can always count on me. I'd be pleased to help you. I don't have to. What, you think I'm a bleating maverick still wet behind the ears? The money wasn't in my desk. Wasn't. Got it right here. Where you didn't think it was that miserable wolf bait we'd been eating in the cafeteria. Put this lump on my middle. You mean you're carrying the money with you in a money belt? Any man gets it off me gotta get my pants first. And ain't a larrabe been caught with his pants down since the Oklahoma land rush. What happened in the Oklahoma land rush, son? That's a long story. It's a lucky thing ever busted in here. Didn't know that. I still think we ought to call the cops. I don't need no tenderfoot posse. I carry my own policeman. Two of them. Ringo, you can tell every wadi in the show that I got my money where I carry my lunch. And I'll blow a hole through the first man that goes for it big enough to drive a yearling bull through. I can take care of myself. I hang around the rodeo all day. And there's A certain atmosphere around the rodeo. And it gets stronger as you go downstairs where they keep the horses. I strike up a conversation with a bunch of the wild horse jockeys. But all of them who aren't called slim are called techs. So I can't tell one from another. And this is very confusing to me. And I'm beginning to wish that I'm back in the east where people speak English and the ladies wear high heels. Just before the evening show, I'm standing outside the Colonel's office when I hear voices inside. Colonel, what do you know about this Maverick? Nothing. Why? Well, it's a mighty interesting coincidence you sent him down to your office. He's gone an hour and there's an attempted robbery. But he was dry gulched. Well, that's what he says. Maybe he heard you coming and laid down and put on an act. I don't know. I feel a lot safer if you'd let me take that money over to the bank. Now don't you worry, Ringo. I'm keeping it right here. I just want to get my hands on any skunk that tries to grab my poke. How about fortune? I got my eye on him. One move out of line and I'll cancel him like a check. I figure I better keep my nose clean. So I spend the evening sitting alongside a Jane Larabee where I can get a good look at her profile, which is very rewarding all the way down to her spurs. She's telling me about the rodeo and I'm beginning to figure it's a place thought up by the hospital across the street to drum up trade. And then when the rider falls off the bull, they try to edge a critter away from him. Well, suppose the bull don't edge? Well, you see that dummy hanging in the middle of the ring with the cowboy clothes on? Uh huh. Sometimes if you run behind that, the bull can't tell the difference, so he tosses a dummy on his horns. Bulls are near sighted. Yeah. One of them one day is going to get bifocals and you're going to be in trouble. Well, I gotta get along now. I'm injured in the bucking bronco contest tonight. You mean you ride them four legged pogo sticks? Sure. Would you like to try it? Thank you, no. I'm too nervous. I'll stick to jumping in front of the express trains on the 8th Avenue subway. Later on I watched Jane larabee wrestle an 800 pound steer down to his knees in 12 seconds. And I make a mental note not to try anything in taxi cab with this doll. In that case, I figured the odds would be that she'd have me down, roped, branded with a notch cut out of my ear before the cab meter could run up.35 cents. I head down below the main arena to the old man's office to find out if he had any messages for me to run. I opened the door and walk in. Colonel. I came down. Holy smokes. Colonel. Colonel. Dead as a Mac. Put up your hand, stranger. What? Oh, it's you. Listen, Rango, the old man, I can see he's been shot. Yeah. You used his own gun, didn't you? What are you talking about? Don't you step this way, mister. Now wait a minute. Just a minute. I walked into the office and there he was. That's your story. Looks like I caught you just in time. Now hand over the money. I haven't got any money. I didn't do it. Listen, while you're standing there making like the Lone Ranger, the real killer's probably halfway to the Bronx. Oh, no, he ain't. He's right here. Wrinkle. What's the matter? They're calling for you. Dump it. What is it? What's happened? Jane, it's your pa. What do you mean? Pop. Pop, what is it? He's dead. He was shot with his own gun. You're gonna pay for this fortune. But I didn't do it. Why should I? 45,000. I didn't take the money. You can search me. Well, maybe you didn't have time. I look in his money belt and don't move. I can shoot out a candle from horseback. Oh, Bob, the money belt's still full. That's what I tried to tell you. Just didn't get a chance to take it. Hey, what is it? This isn't money in here. It's newspaper. Newspapers. Well, the old man must have been trying to fool the killer. He must have hid the money somewhere else. I guess he did fool the killer, didn't he? Fortune. Listen, you bow legged lunkhead. I didn't shoot him. Jane. Do you want me to take it? Please, Wrangler. I better go upstairs. I can't stay here. I don't want to think. You do. Whatever you think is best. All right, Jane. Don't worry. I'll take care of it. Look, I hate to repeat myself, but you better call the cops. Don't need no cops. We'll take care of this our own way. You can't do that. After the show, me and the boys will give you a nice Fair trial before we string you up. You can't do this. This is New York City. I want a habeas corpus. There'll be a corpus, all right. Colonel Larby was the finest old man you'd ever want to know. There isn't a hand in this show that wouldn't take a chance of swinging to make sure his killer got what was coming to him. Right after the show we're gonna fit you for a nice long necktie. Now get moving. Ringo again, I tell you. Why don't you send for the cops? Cause some smart city lawyer might find a way to weasel you out of this. Yeah, that's what I was hoping. Get in here. What is this, a box stall? We'll keep you in here nice and cozy till I round up the boys and go on. Hey, there's something in there. A horse. That's Sam the educated mule. He won't mind. Go on. All right, quit pushing and don't tickle Sam on the side. That's what makes him kick. Thanks a lot. We want you in one piece till we can get a hold of you. If I was you, I'd start practicing. Practicing what? How to sing Bury Me not on the Lone Prairie. I am sharing a lovely one room apartment, tastefully decorated with antique feed bags and harness straps with luxuriant wall to wall straw. My roommate is Sam. An intelligent looking mule against gives me the fishy eyes. Now look, Sam, I don't know you and you don't know me, so let's leave it that way. Now you stay over on your side and I'll stay over on mine. Well, you got sinus condition too, you know, pal, you ought to have them tonsils out. Now look, Sam, all this is very pleasant, but I gotta figure some way to get out of this before that crazy bunch of cowboys decides to try an 18 foot necktie for size with me on the end of it. Hey, let me out of here. Anybody. Let me out of here. I got a right to make one phone call. Hey. Hey, what are you doing in there? Max. At last, a human voice. How did you get in here without a western dialect? All right, Max, stick up your hands before I blow your belt buckle out to your spine. What? This ain't no fountain pen. I got stuck in your ribs. I've been betrayed by a Brooklyn accent. What are you, punchy? Where's the dough? What dough? The old man's door. The 25 G's. How should I know? You've been with him all day. Come on now, bright boy. Talk. Where'd he stash the dough when he stuffed that money belt with newspaper? How did you know he had newspaper? Never mind, I can guess. You're real bright. You knocked him off. Look, I ain't got much time. I'll give you three and then I'm gonna let you have it. You wouldn't dare shoot down here. You'll have the cops and the joint on your heels in a minute. You kidding? With all them horse boys firing blanks upstairs? You got a point. All right, I'll tell you where the dough is. Come on. You see this drinking fountain over there? Yeah. Behind it there's a loose brick. The water fountain? Yeah. Look over the top. Yeah. Keep your hands up where I can see him. Here. Sure, sure. I don't see no brick. Lean over the top here. I slam my foot down on the fountain pedal, let him have a shot of ice water and a kisser, and I off running with a clear track. Hey. Hey, you. Hey. Come on back here, you. I figure if I stay in the Carter, I'm a set up for a slug in the back. So I take the first right turn, head up a ramp and out a little door. I slam it quick behind me, which is a mistake. I'm right smack in the middle of the arena and coming my way fast is about 2,000 pounds of cow with a built in pitchfork between the ears. I give him a quick side step and the bull puts on the brakes and skids to a stop 10ft away. Hey, Ferdinand. Ferdy. Come on, Ferdinand. You want to smell a nice carnation? Atta boy. You go down the other end and I'll meet you there in 20 minutes. Nice, Ferdinand. Don't get sore, baby. Don't get sore. Rocky. Rocky. Don't move. Who's moving? Stay still. A bull won't charge if you stay still. That's your story. How does he feel about it? Don't move. The riders will edge him away. I ain't got time to wait, honey. Ferdinand quits pawing the ground, shifts into first and starts. This kid's strictly hydramatic and he must be doing 50 when he goes past the place where I was. He pulls up short, looks around a little confused. He can't find me, which is not surprising because I'm swinging back and forth across the arena on the dummy, which hangs in the middle of the ring. On one end of the swing is the bull and on the other end is Ringo, which is no improvement, Froggy. Hold on, hold on. We'll get you out. Whatever you do, don't let go. Get me off this dummy. Bulldoze and get your fortune. I will. You ain't getting away. This way. Somebody get me off this dummy. I'm getting seasick. Here. I have this next walls. Max, drop off over here and got the ball at the other end. Go ahead, drop. I'll need a stone. Okay, here I go. So long, Max. It's been grand. Unfortunately, I make a small miscalculation to let go on Ranger's end of the swing. He picks me up and dusts me off with his hand. Which he happens to have rolled up into a fist at the time. Get away. Listen, apple knocker, wise up. The real kill is right downstairs. What are you talking about? The short fat guy from Brooklyn. Oh, you're lying to me. You sad. I tell you, he told me he killed the old man. Now, come on, we can get him before he gets out of the the building. Okay, but if we don't find them, we're still going to see you fitted for a real tight collar. Let's get going. Don't trip over those spurs. I don't see a new unfortunate. He might have gotten away. Wait a minute. What? There he is down the hall. Come on. That's where you shoved me into that box store. Right around this corner. He's gone. Couldn't be. I saw him. Wait a minute. Look. The door of the box store, it's moving. You say that pole cat's got a shoot nine? Yeah. It ain't as big as that slide. Tom Bone, you carry. But it's for real. You better let me handle this one. Now, stand back. Be my guest. I'll kick open the door. Ready? Now. Not bad. Gun. All right, Fortune, I got him. Yeah, that's him all right. Hey, he's still moving. We better get an ambulance for him. Why bother? It just doesn't seem friendly this way. Help me. All right, Mac, take it easy. We'll get a doctor. No, it's no use. Dirty rat. Go get a doctor. Fortune. Wait a minute. He's saying something. Dirty rat hired me to get money. Then he. Who? Who did? Who hired you? Then he shoots. He shoots me down, and he means Fortune. You just ain't a lucky hombre. If he died like you should have, you wouldn't be in trouble. Now, don't move. You hire the killer. Didn't tell him to kill the old man. Just wanted the money so he couldn't meet that note. And you would have had to come to me for the money. You were gonna take over the show. Huh? I'm going to. Not if I can get to the cops you ain't. Well, that's why you ain't going to. I figure I killed one man here in self defense. I might as well make it too. You were afraid this hood would talk, huh? West, we like umbers like you. Strong, silent and dead. Okay, Fortune, here it comes. Oh, Rocky, are you all right? Janie, what's going on in here? Who is that man? The one on the floor is the guy who killed your dad. And the guy with the cannon in my ribs is the man who hired him to do it. Ringo watching? I'll kill you for that. Guess again. If you do, you'll have to kill her too. And something tells me you ain't got the courage, pal. You're through, Ringo. Why don't you give it up? Not yet. I'm getting out of here and Janie, you'll come. No, Ringo, you ain't got a chance. Jane is my chance. Anybody comes after me and she gets it. Fortune, now remember that before you go call the cops. Dango tucks the girl under one elbow and gives me a straight armor to the straw with the other. The door slams, the lock snaps and I'm back in housekeeping with a mule. This time he's nervous and let's fly a pair of heels at my head. Hey, look out. This guy me an idea. I figure I can't kick the door open, but the mule can. I climb up on top of him because that's the safest place. Line them up with the door and tickle them under the left hind leg. Nice work, Sam. Now hold still while I get down. I said let me get off. Let me get. Cut it out. Let me off. Sam, where you taking me? Sam heads down to Carter like a three year old coming down the Widener shoot at Jamaica. I guess I'd better stay on till he slows down. So I bury both hands in his mane and go along for the ride. We hit the sidewalk and I spot Ringo pulling Jane or taxi down the block. It's obvious that they went that away, so Sam and I start after it. This is Sam's idea strictly now. Our runaway mule has been a little unusual on Ninth Avenue since about a 1911, I guess so. By the time we hit 46th street there's a traffic jam and a horse pulls up between a beer truck and a taxi cab and I fall off just as the cab door opens. Get back in. Well, Rover boy, Go to the cab there. Fortunately, I'll plug you like I okay, I'll close the door. A hand. All right, Ringo, now I got the gun. Oh. How do you hold this thing with one hand? You ain't going nowhere now. Not New York City in a traffic jam. Get out, Rango. Rocky, he was trying to take over the show. I know, I know. We're gonna lose it anyway. We haven't got the $45,000 to pay the note. That's easy. It's right where your father hid it. We don't know where. I do. I asked Max. Max? That dummy that's hung over the arena in the bull riding? He's got 45 GS stuffed inside his shirt. NBC has presented Frank Sinatra as that footloose and fancy free young gentleman, Rocky Fortune. Others in tonight's cast included Dan Riss, Marion Richmond, Don Diamond, Tony Barrett. Tonight's script was written by Ernest Kinoy. Andrew C. Love directed. Now, to tell you about next week's adventure, here's Frank Sinatra as Rocky Fortune. Did I ever tell you about the time I conducted a sightseeing tour at the museum? Man, they got dead people in sarcophagi lying all over that place. Not that I'm squeamish about a bunch of old mummies, believe me, but when they tried to embalm me, that's why I drew the line. I'll tell you about it next week. See you around. Visit with Pepper McGee and Molly tonight on the NBC Radio Network. We just heard Philip Marlowe, Richard diamond, the Saint and Rocky Fortune. That will do it for this week's episode. Thanks so much for joining me today. I hope you'll be back next week for more Old Time Radio crime fighters. In the meantime, you can check out some stars on suspense, my other Old Time Radio podcast. New episodes of that show are out on Thursdays. If you like what you're hearing, don't be a stranger. You can rate and review the show in Apple Podcasts or wherever you listen. And if you'd like to lend support to the show, you can visit buymeacoffee.com meansts OTR. I'll be back next Sunday with more Old Time RA Radio Detectives. But until then, good night and happy listening. Now here is our star, Vincent Price. Ladies and gentlemen. In a prejudice filled America, no one would be secure in his job, his business, his church or his home. Yet racial and religious antagonisms are exploited daily by quacks and adventurers whose followers make up the irresponsible lunatic fringe of American life, refuse to listen to or spread rumors against any race or religion help to stamp out prejudice in our country. Let's judge our neighbors by the character of their lives alone and not on the basis of their religion or origin.