← Down These Mean Streets (Old Time Radio Detectives)
Down These Mean Streets (Old Time Radio Detectives)
Episode 638 - William Tells (Philip Marlowe, Night Beat, Johnny Dollar, & Gunsmoke)
02:04:56
We're saluting the 105th anniversary of the birth of William Conrad - the radio acting legend who brought law and order to Dodge City as Matt Dillon on Gunsmoke and who racked up hundreds of credits on detective shows, thrillers, comedies, and dramas....
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- [00:00]
Narrator/Announcer
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 Dollar.
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Podcast Host
Hello and welcome to down these Mean Streets and more old time radio detectives and crime fighters. This week we're lighting the candles and rolling out the cake for a belated birthday salute to one of the all time greats of the radio era. To old time radio fans, William Conrad is best known as Marshal Matt Dillon on Gunsmoke. But Conrad racked up credits all over the place, thousands of them on everything from Johnny Dollar and Philip Marlowe to Escape and suspense to our Ms. Brooks and Jack Benny. Outside of his very successful radio career, Conrad also found success on both sides of the camera. While he didn't play Matt Dillon when Gunsmoke came to tv, he headlined three TV detective shows. Cannon, Nero, Wolf and Jake and the Fat Man. He lent his voice as narrator to Rocky and Bullwinkle.com Buck Rogers and the Fugitive. Conrad appeared in classic noir dramas like the Killers and Sorry, Wrong Number and he directed several films for Warner Brothers where his work behind the camera earned him a unique thank you gift from the studio. As thanks for his work directing movies like Two on a Guillotine, Jack Warner gave William Conrad one of the two original statues used in the filming of the Maltese Falcon. That's better than any thank you gift I've ever received. At my office today we'll celebrate the 105th anniversary of his birth with William Conrad in four old time radio dramas. Beginning with his one and only starring turn as Philip Marlowe. He subbed in for series star Gerald Moore in the April 11, 1950 episode the anniversary gift and his performance makes you wish Conrad had more opportunities to play the part. It's a great episode with a plot that could have come right out of a Raymond Chandler novel or short story with Marlow in a small beach town looking for a lost watch and discovering a decades old murder and cover up. And Conrad is terrific as Philip Marlowe. Next he co stars with Frank Lovejoy in a June 12, 1950 episode of Nightbeat Beat known as the Football Player and the Syndicate. My favorite episode of the series. Reporter Randy Stone runs across his old college football idol who is now a down on his luck gambler and occasional private eye played by Conrad. Conrad needs to do a job for a notorious Chicago political boss to get the gambling syndicate off his back, and Stone tries to help his hero before time runs out. Then William Conrad plays a double role opposite Edmund O' Brien's Johnny Dollar in the Woodward Manila Matter from November 25, 1950. William Conrad often played more than one part in a single radio episode. Here he plays both the man who hires Dollar to investigate a $75,000 robbery in the Philippines, as well as a tough customer Johnny has to question along the way. And finally, we'll hear Conrad in his signature radio role in Matt Gets It From Gunsmoke, originally aired on CBS on October 2, 1954. It finds the marshal facing down a young gunfighter and losing. Now the famous lawman has to get back his health and his nerve in order to face his shooter once again. It's one of the best episodes of Gunsmoke, and no surprise, William Conrad is fantastic. It's a tribute to one of the greatest, maybe the greatest radio actors of all time. Our William Conrad salute kicks off with Philip Marlowe right after these messages.
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Narrator/Announcer
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Get a copy of the official air raid instructions from your local civil defense organization or write to Superintendent of documents, Washington, D.C. enclosing 5 cents in coin or stamps. Learn the instructions by heart and see that everyone in your family does too. Be smart. Be prepared. I'd like to tell you folks about Kraft's Golden Cheese food. Velveeta Velveeta is such good eating. Just taste that grand rich yet mild cheddar cheese flavor and Velveeta is So good for you. It's rich in important food values. From milk itself for swell tasting snacks, for good, hearty sandwiches for thrifty, easy, hot dishes. It's smart to keep stocked with Velveeta. Get it tomorrow in the handy quarter pound package or in the economical two pound loaf. The cheese food, of top quality Velveeta is made only by Kraft. I dedicate this program to the fight against crime. Not merely crimes of violence and crimes of dishonesty 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 gutter, the prison or the grave. This time, a platinum wristwatch, a body on a lonely strip of beach and a case of heart failure in a Beverly Hills garage. All added up to blackmail. 25 years old and a killer who would never be caught. It happened like this. From the pen of Raymond Chandler, outstanding author of crime fiction comes his most famous character in the Adventures of Philip Marlowe. In just a moment, tonight's story. But first, a message from the Ford dealers of America. The whole country's talking about the great 1950 Ford. Listen to what Mr. Carl Moore of Kingston, Pennsylvania, one of more than 420,000 delighted owners, says about his new Ford. I leave my car out on the street a lot in winter, but you'd never know it to look at my 50 Ford's paint job. It's still as new looking as when I bought it. I'll never stop wondering how Ford can sell a car that stands up so well for so little money. And speaking of getting a lot for little money my Ford gives me up to 22 miles to a gallon of gas. Yes, it's hard for Ford owners to keep the good news to themselves. The news about the economy of the big new Ford. From its low initial price to its high resale value, from its low cost of maintenance to its thrift on gas and oil. Ford is a real economy buy. But prove it for yourself. Your neighborhood Ford dealer has the facts on Ford economy. And he'll be glad to have you test drive the big 1950 Ford in your own way. And now we bring you tonight's exciting story, the anniversary gift. We turn left at the next corner, cabby. Okay. Why, this Beverly Hills on a Sunday afternoon is really something, ain't it? Yeah. Wide streets, classy homes. Boy, these jokers got it made. Some life. Nothing ever gets to them to bother them. Except the income tax, maybe. Yep, Here it is, Mr. 8834 Beverly Road. What, a joint. Yeah. Wait for me. Um, sure. Sure, mister. The door was answered by a girl of about 16. A tall, slender girl with dark eyes too deep for her years. Oh, come in, won't you? I believe Dad's expecting. She led me across a living room as dignified as the lobby of a bank to a door that she opened. If you'll wait here in the library, I'll tell Dad you've come. The library of Stanley Towner, my new client was as somber as his living room, except for one thing. Over a fireplace that half filled one wall was a life size portrait of a woman, a most beautiful woman. Could have been a painting of what the girl who had just left would look like in another 25 years. I was still staring at the picture when Stanley Tanner came in. That's a portrait of Margaret, my wife. We lost her one week ago today. I'm sorry, Mr. Tanner. Well, we'd been expecting it for over a year. The doctors had warned us. But even when you're braced for a blow like that, it. Yes, I know what you mean. It was her heart, Marlow. She was coming home from a shopping trip in Westwood last Tuesday evening when it happened. She had her own car and was just pulling into the garage here when the attack seized her. Catherine, My daughter, and I both heard her car hit the garage wall. We ran out and found her. The doctor did everything possible. Wednesday morning, she was dead. I'm sorry. It's all right. Mr. Thomas, I must tell you all this because the reason I called you here has to do with Margaret's death. I don't understand. I've got to get Margaret's watch back. A what? A watch? Yes, a wristwatch. It's. Well, I'll try to explain. I loved my wife very deeply, Marlow. Now that I've lost her, the most important thing in the world to me is the preservation of her memory. Can you understand that? It's natural that you'd cling to things that remind you of her, Mr. Towner. Now, what about the watch? It's lost somewhere in Camino Beach. You know where that is? Yes, A few miles below Redondo. Yes, that's right. The day Margaret died, I had taken her watch with me to have it repaired. I went down the coast on some business, and on the way back I stopped at Camino beach for lunch. A place called the Trade Winds. You had the watch with you when you went in? Yes, in my overcoat pocket. I came out and got in my car and Was halfway back to my office before I realized it was gone. I. I've got to get it back. Marlow. How much is it worth in cash? About $500. But to me now it's worth 20 times that. What's the watch like? It's a Benares platinum and set with emeralds. I gave it to Margaret on our 20th wedding anniversary. There's an inscription on the back. To Margaret, from Stanley, with eternal love. I know that watch is somewhere in Camino Beach. Can you find it and bring it back here to me? There's nothing more you can tell me. Unfortunately, that's all there is. I'll do my best, but I can't guarantee a thing. The cabbie waiting outside drove me back to the gas station on Wiltshire, where I picked up my own car, fresh off the grease rack and headed for the ocean and the sunset. It was getting dark by the time I reached Camino Beach. A rickety salt cake little town jumbled in between the highway and the surf. My first stop was the Tradewinds Cafe, a waterfront shack on spindly legs, standing knee deep in a smelly backwash. It only took 10 minutes to find that there was nothing there for me. After that, I drew a blank at each of the three hock shops and wound up an hour and a half later, no farther than the sidewalk curb where I watched a traffic cop brand my tire with his parking marker, plant a heavy foot on my bumper to steady his bike and light a cigarette. Hi. Is this your car? Yeah. What is it? Am I over parked? Nope, not yet. Just borrowing your bumper a minute. Fine. Of course not. Got a lot of scratches already. Say, that's a fancy chalk label you put on the side of that tire there. Z. The mark of Zorro. No, the mark of Ziegler. That's me. This little thing I worked out to add a personal touch to my business. You're a stranger out here, aren't you? Yeah, from la. Saw you coming out of the pawn shop there. You don't look like the type. Well, I'm not, as long as my luck holds. Actually, a friend of mine lost a wristwatch here in town. I'm trying to locate it. Pretty good watches. Yeah, good enough. The really tough part is that it has a very big sentimental value. I've tried all three of the pawn shops in town, but no dice. You know, if I had a friend who'd lost a good watch, I think I'd check in at Sean's Bicycle Shop on Third Street. Well, thanks a lot, Ziegler. Don't mention it. Oh, incidentally, I wouldn't bother to tell him who sent me down if I was you. So long. Hello? Hello? Anybody there? Hello? Sean? What do you want? I'm closed for the night. I'm interested in a lady's wristwatch, Mr. Sean. Are you? Now just how does that bring you to a bicycle shot? Look, we both know you're offense, so let's not waste time on that. The watch I'm after is platinum set with emeralds and has an inscription on the back. To Margaret from Stanley with eternal love. A bright sentiment, I'm sure. Have you seen the watch? No. Look, Sean, either I beat your tongue as limber as the St. Bernard's ears, or you accept this $20 in exchange for some straight information. Peacefully. Now take your choice and take it fast. $20? What kind of a choice is that? But I don't have the watch buckle. But you have seen it. Oh, yes. Five, six days ago, a fella brought that watch in here. Wanted to know what it was worth. I said 500. He laughed in my face. Who was this guy you mentioned? Something about $20? Oh, yes. Here I write, not give. That's better. His name is Chip Menashee in Somers. He works in the concessions in the pier in Winters. He is nothing more than a beachcomber. Lives in a little room out on the pier behind the shooting gallery. And that book owes you $20 worth. It had better be Shane or I'll be back for my change. The amusement pier was deserted when I finally found the one room shack tacked on behind the shooting gallery. It was dark and quiet. I knocked once, got no answer. So I pushed a wad of rags out of a broken pane of glass in the door, reached and and unsnapped the lock and went in with a light from the one naked overhead bulb. I started through the room. On a packing crate that passed for a dresser, I found a week old newspaper clipping that said the body of one Leon Stice of Camino had been found on an isolated beach Wednesday morning. Shot in the chest, no apparent reason. Stice was survived by his wife, Nancy of 320 Front Street I got real busy wondering why a bum like Chip Menache saved old newspaper clippings of murder stories when a noise outside turned me toward the open door. What are you doing in my place? You weren't home, so I came in to wait. You a cop or something? No, I'm no cop. Menachi. Her name's Marlow. Maybe we can do business. Sit down. I Don't get you. I collect old watches a mutual friend sent me. Menashe? Yeah, I'm interested in ladies watches particularly. Maybe something in platinum with emeralds. Okay, pally, what's the proposition? Nothing until I see the merchandise. Now, how about putting it on display, huh? I can't hear you, pally. Ah, come on now, where's the watch? Don't rush me, mister, don't rush me. Get you nowheres. All right, make me a proposition. 10 grand. 10? 10,000. Uh huh. You must be out of your mind. Yeah, we'll see who's out of their minds. That's a very valuable watch. Maybe you better get out of here and add it all up again. Yeah, maybe I'd better at that. But Menace, don't go away because I'll be back. I won't go away. I know when I'm sitting on top of the pile. As I walked away, a hunch kept whispering to me that the body of a guy named Leon Stice, found on a lonely beach, was somehow tied in. So I decided to pay a call on his widow. I drove down Front street to number 320, but there was nobody home. As a matter of fact, the only sign of life on the entire block was a red neon pelican and a blue neon martini glass above the door of a bar across the street. So I walked over and went in. A couple of questions later, I found Nancy Stice sitting alone in the back. The offer to buy a drink was the only introduction I needed. Sure you can buy me a drink. Hey, Charlie. Okay, Nancy, I. I'm an old friend of your husband's, Nancy. I just heard that Laus didn't have no friends. There you are, Nancy. Something for you, mister? No. Here, keep it mad in your eye. Nah, I got nothing against leon stice, except 25 years of living with him in a Camino beach rat hole on nothing. That's all. Any idea why he was killed? For the role he was carrying. After what you just said? That makes no sense. That's the way it was and I didn't get one red cent of it. It was all gone when I found him. Did you tell the cops he had money on him? Nah, I hate cops. Yeah, sure. Where did Leon get this dough? It told me he ran into an old acquaintance who was staking him. Some guy named Martin Vogel who used to live here in Camino beach years ago. Martin Vogel was taking him to what? Leon said him and Vogel was going in business together. The cash was in advance. Oh, sure, he was gonna Be such a big shot. What kind of business, Nancy? Just between. Just between you and me? The only business that crummy mind of his would work on was blackmail. Take it from me. How about another drink for his grief stricken widow, huh? I'll leave a buck on the bar on my way out. In just a moment, the second act of Philip Marlowe. But first, a brief message from the Ford dealers of America. 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 saga foam rubber cushion front seat. Only by driving this great car can you enjoy its smooth power and solid road ability. 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. But see, hear and feel how much the new Ford gives you. 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. Now we return to the second act of Philip Marlowe and tonight's story, the anniversary gift. I left the Pelican Club, got into my car and started for the local law on the chance that I could learn something more about the new question mark I'd picked up named Martin Vogel. Ten minutes later, I parked my car under the cracked globe that oozed sick purple light over a weather beaten sign. Camino Beach Police. A fat sergeant huddled over what could have been the original Teletype machine. When I presented my credentials, he jabbed a fat finger at a dirty glass door marked Captain Elvin Bush, Chief of Detectives. Inside, a small old man, neat in a clean white shirt, groomed silver hair and a gentle smile was strapping on a shoulder holster when I put my license on his desk. When I stopped talking, he got up and extended an almost delicate hand. I certainly hope we can help you, Mr. Marlowe. Martin Vogel, you say? Yes. It might have been a long time ago, captain. Maybe even 25 years, if he was mixed up with the police at all. Do your records go back that far? Oh, yes. By the apple crate load. And I mean that literally, Mr. Marlow. You see, in Camino beach, police piles, fixtures, furniture are somewhat lacking. City appropriations only go where they show public bird baths, statues of the mayor. Oh, here. This bottom crate here marked. Let's see, 1921-1930. Figure he was arrested along in there. This Vogel? Yeah, if he was arrested. Dusty, isn't it? Well, the cards are alphabetical. Yeah, let's see. Riker, Rooney, Stemple. By the way, Mr. Marlow, what's your angle? I'm not sure. Captain Swenson under the let him invent Vogel. Martin. Got it, eh? Yeah. Picture and all. Bring it over here in the light. Yeah. Martin Vogel arrested Camino Beach Hotel, May 28, 1923. On warrant from Chicago, Illinois police returned to Chicago. Sentenced to five years in state penitentiary for embezzlement. Arresting officer, Patrolman Elvin Bush. Picked him up myself. Did I? Well, I've locked up a lot of people in the last 35 years. Yeah, I guess you have it. Holy smokes. What? That can't be. What is, Mr. Marlow? You look kind of pale. There was no mistaking it. The time yellowed picture of Martin Vogel made it plain. Vogel and my client, the distinguished Mr. Stanley Towner, were one and the same. That meant that Towner had lied to me and more important, had no doubt killed Leon Stice, who was blackmailing him because he knew he was Vogel. I left Captain Bush piled into my car and pointed it back for the amusement pier, where, one way or another, I was going to get Chip Menachi to fill in a few remaining blanks for me. Yeah? Who is it? Marlow. Menachee. I want to talk business. Okay, Marlow. Looks like I doped it right? I thought you'd come back. All right, now get up and listen hard. I want the watch and the story that comes with it. I told you my price. It's still 10 grand. You're bluffing, Menachem. You know the watch means money, but you don't know why. Yeah, Mr. Weisenhardt. All right, now come on, talk. Okay, okay, quit. I'll tell you what you want. I took the watch from Leon Stice. I found him dead on the beach. It was clenched in his fist, and the door you're spending was in his wallet. Let me up, will you? All right, come on now. Sit over there. Hands in your lap. School isn't out yet. What more do you want, Marlow? How do you tie the watch end with Stanley Towner? What makes you think I did? The fact that I was sent here to Camino beach and the fact that you Were ready and waiting for somebody. Well, okay, okay. I was lucky when I read about Stice in the papers. I also just happened to read another article. An oddity, you might say, about a woman in Beverly Hills. A rich man's wife who got a heart attack in her car. Just she pulled into her garage. Woman called Towner named Margaret, wife of a big shot broker. Also called Town a front name Stanley. I went from there. I was trood. Yeah, genius. Okay, now give me the watch. Come on, let's have it. All right, get your mitts off here. Now you're real happy, Muscles. Happy that you? Hey, Pops, come in this way. Hey, Medicine. Wait a minute. By the time I got to the door, he was halfway across the boardwalk to his car. But Captain Bush and his sergeant were ready and waiting. When Menashee was next to the gun he kept in his glove compartment, the spotlight on the squad car slashed through the dark, found him and froze him in a position. We've got you, Menashee. You'd better quit. Menashee, do you hear me? Now you listen, copper. Let him have it, Becker. The windshield sprang into little pieces. I waited until Captain and Becker were next to the body and had lifted the. Then I moved quietly along the side of the buildings as far as the squad car there. I turned and started back toward them. Hey. Hey, what happened? Oh, it's you, Captain. I'll bring you around here. Mr. Marlowe, a guy in town told me that somebody named Chip Menachem might give me a lead on Martin Vogel. He won't be able to now. That's Menashi. What we wanted him for a week old stick up murder. Stick up murder? That guy on the beach? The same. Say, Becker find the money on him? Right. Some 300 bucks, Captain. Good. He's better call for the wagon now. Check. Funny thing, Mr. Marlow. One fingerprint did it. Oh, how's that? That guy on the beach, Leon Stice, found his empty wallet in the sand next to him. It had an eye and glass front over his driver's license with a thumbprint that wasn't his but was Chip Menachee's. Huh? He got on to Menachee because he was spreading a lot of dough around. Today Becker got down here and lifted one of his prints. That cinched it, huh? Yes, that and a shot he just threw at me. Strictly a stick up killer. Who got caught. Marlow, about this Martin Vogel, you still want to let it go that the Beverly Hills police are going to get in touch? I think so. Good night, Captain Bush. The ride back to Beverly Hills was an uncomfortable hour and a half, cold and empty. I was glad that I had things to do, like stop and start and shift gears. It kept me from thinking too much about a lot of things and a lot of people I wish I'd never heard of. People like Stanley Tanner, who I had every reason to be against, but who I was starting to pull for. Stanley Towner, a man who had started all over again after a single mistake made 25 years ago. Man who had fought to build good things like a comfortable home, a marriage to. To a woman in a painting, a 16 year old likeness named Catherine. But Stanley Tanner, who was also a killer on a lonely stretch of beach far from home, destroying something rotten. Who would destroy him? A killer that nobody knew about except me. Well, I pulled into the driveway and parked behind the car that had been Margaret's. As I got out, the light of the garage went on and the side door of the house opened. I felt almost wrong dropping my hand around the.38 in my side pocket. Good evening, Mr. Marlow. You have the watch? Yeah. I had quite a tussle getting hold of it. I imagined you would. Menachi's dead, Mr. Turner. Menashee. Who. Who is Menashi, Mr. Marlow. The reason you hired me. The man who called you and dangled this bait here. You were right. It's a beautiful watch, Mr. Vogel. Vogel? You. You know about it? Yeah. They keep police files a long time. I know about everything. Except why you didn't go after the watch yourself. Well, I was afraid. Afraid to show yourself in the town where somebody might remember you, huh? The town in which you had committed a murder. Is that it? Yes. Yes, that's it exactly. Dad? Dad, is that you down there? Yes. Dear me. Mr. Marlow, why don't you come into the house? It's so. Layton, it's chilly. You'll catch a death of cold out there. Yes, in a while, dear. Now go back to bed. All right. Good night, dad. Good night, dear. Oh, good night, Mr. Marlowe. And please make him do as I say, will you? Yes, I will, Catherine. Good night. Do you mind if we go along to the police at once, Mr. Marlowe? I'd rather she didn't know right now. Tomorrow soon enough. And can we take your car? Yeah. The lights go off out here? Yes. The switch is on the garage wall over there. Okay, get in. All right. You know, Mr. Turner, I'm sorry about Catherine and the way she's going to be hit, but. Hit by this thing. The switch is there on your right. On your right, Mr. Marlow. Yeah. It was a very nice house. Mm. Mr. Tanner. You certainly loved Margaret a lot, didn't you? Completely, Mr. Marlowe. And her memory, too. Why do you ask? Something that makes me awfully happy, Mr. Tanner. You didn't kill Leon Stice, Marlowe. What are you saying? That you never lost your wife's watch at Camino Beach. You never had it. She lost it herself. Lost it when she struggled with Leon Stice just before she killed him. For your sake. For you and Catherine and everything you've worked on. No, Marlow, no. You. Yes. Margaret had a bad heart. She knew she didn't have long to live. Also, she knew that Stice was blackmailing you. It figures, Tanner. And what also figures is that you'd rather pay for a murder that you didn't commit than to have Margaret's name soiled. Yes, I would. And I will. Because you can't prove any of this. Correction, Mr. Tanner. I can. With your wife's car there in the garage. The car in which she died on what you said was her return from Westwood, which it was. No, not according to a funny little chalk mark I just saw on one tire. It wasn't a little white Z that a policeman named Ziegler in Camino beach makes to check on parking time, and we can go on from there. Your confession won't mean a thing. But, Marlow, it will. It? Will it? No. No, I guess it won't. I guess you can't hide the truth very often, can you? No. Only once in a great while. And then, strangely enough, only when it seems like the right thing to do. What do you mean? Why did you stop the motor? There's one thing I haven't told you yet. The way things worked out in Camino Beach, Mr. Tanner. The police there think that Menashee killed Leon Stice. And they're happy that way. They never heard of you or your wife. And I don't see why they should now. I mean that nobody really knows the whole story. Nobody except you, Marlow. Nobody. Mr. Towner. Good night. Thank you, Mr. Marlow. Good night. Philip Marlow will be back in just a moment. But first, a word from the Ford dealers of America. Tonight there are more than 420,000 enthusiastic 1950 Ford owners. And it seems as though most of them are talking about this car. Listen to what Judge Richmond B. Keech of Washington, D.C. has to say about his new Ford. I was so satisfied with my 49 Ford that I decided to get a 50 as soon as they became available. I've been more than pleased with the 50. Truthfully, I see no cause to pay more when a Ford gives me all the performance, quiet and comfort a man can ask for at such a reasonable price. The Ford is wonderfully easy to handle, particularly in traffic. Yes. Ask any Ford owner how he feels about his big new Ford and he'll tell you it's tops for performance and for comfort. But prove it for yourself. Drop into your neighborhood Ford dealers and test drive this truly great car. You'll be amazed when you discover how little it costs to buy, to run and to maintain. Do it tomorrow. Test drive the big new 1950 Ford. Be sure and be with us again next week when Philip Marlowe says. This time I was in the country where the night should have been nothing but peace and quiet. But a pair of angry eagles changed all that. One was solid gold and too close to a battered corpse. The other weighed 160 pounds and was too quick with his fists in or out of the ring. The adventures of Philip Marlowe bringing you Raymond Chandler's most famous character tonight starred Bill Conrad, are produced and directed by Norman MacDonald and are written for radio by Robert Mitchell and Gene Levitt. Featured in the cast were Sammy Hill, John Dainer, Gene Bates, Ralph Moody, Larry Dobkin, Harry Bartel and Edgar Barrier. The special music is composed and conducted by Richard Orant. This is Roy Rowan speaking for cbs, the Columbia Broadcasting System. Hi, this is Randy Stone. I cover the Nightbeat for the Chicago Star. Stories start in many different ways. This one began when I bumped into a wonderful legend out of the past and watched that legend die before my eyes. Night Beat, starring Frank Lovejoy as Randy Stone. You know, I guess the one thing that makes a newspaper guy like me different from any other working stiff is that while a bookkeeper works with numbers, carpenter deals in wood and the miner sweats over coal. A newspaper man, well, all he works with is people. What makes them laugh and dance in the street, what makes them cry in the night. But just the same. Like most kinds of work, this has its occupational hazards too. Being a newspaper man doesn't give you painter's colic or housemaid's knee. But sometimes it can sure do some lousy things to your heart. It was my night off. I. I had a date with a little blonde at the information desk. You know, the girl who tells you where to go after you tell her what you're looking for. I finally talked her into going dancing. I was supposed to pick her up at the 9 o' clock only here it was 8:30 and I was still trying to find a flower shop to buy her a corsage. I'd walked to the edge of skid row when I finally spotted this place. A little florist shop in the center of a shabby office building. Looking through the window, I saw a gray haired old lady pinning a boutonnae on the lapel of a chunky fellow in a shiny blue serge. As I came through the front door, the fellow spun around like he was expecting the worst. So I can get this flower in, please? I'm sorry, Mrs. Dunlap. I'm expecting somebody. I thought maybe this fellow might be the one. All right, now you just stay quiet. I'll be with you in a moment, sir. All right. There's no hurry. No hurry at all. There now. Isn't that beautiful? My husband set it aside especially for you. Tell your husband thanks. I don't know. No matter how punk I feel, if I get a fresh flower in my lapel picks me up better than a shallow rod gin. How much do I owe you? 50 cents. Here. Yeah. Oh, I'll pick it up. You seem upset tonight. This person you're going to meet must be quite important. Yeah. Yeah, he sure is. He's the man who's going to put me out of my misery. What? Sure. Tell your husband next time I need a flowery, he better make it a nice white lily. Goodbye. That fella's sure upset me. Oh, poor Tom Paxton. I've seen him like this before. He's just had a wee bit too much to drink, I'm afraid. Tom Paxton? No. Huh? The rose in his lapel used to be his trademark. Oh. Do you know Tom? Well, if he's the same one, I was never that lucky. Best I could do was worship him from a distance. Worship Tom? Yeah. That sounds crazy, doesn't it? Ten years ago, when I was in college, Tom Paxton was the greatest football star we'd ever had. He was one of the greatest in the country. He was a legend. Oh, well, it can't be the same man. I don't know. Once you get over the shock, the resemblance is there. And that rose in the lapel? I don't know, Eddie, but I'm going to find out. I went out the side door of the Flora shop into the lobby. There was Tom standing in the dark, pushing the button for the elevator. As I came up to him, he spun around again like it was part of an act that he always did on cue. Are you following me? Well, yes. You weren't Just shopping for flowers there, were you? If you're Dixie. All right, don't play games with me. I'm tired of running away. I'm half bats. How much of it can I take? Now, look, look, I'm Randy Stone. I heard the woman call you to Tom Paxton. When I went to college, there was a Tom Paxton who was just about the greatest football player who ever lived. What are you talking about? You got me mixed up with three other guys. Well, this Tom Paxton was always sporting a flower in his lapel. There's no law against that, is there? Now go on, get out of here. Let me alone. While we were talking, the light over the button of the self operating elevator flashed on. The elevator was coming from down. Well, if Tom Paxton didn't want me to bother him, I couldn't twist his arm. I turned to leave just as the elevator doors opened. Only instead of Tom stepping in, somebody else stepped out. I was waiting for you, Paxton. You're Dixie, aren't you? Come again, aren't you? Sure, that's what I got, this southern accent. Now listen. Come on, somebody wants to see you. Why doesn't the Syndicate give me a break? Why don't they give me a chance to pay up? I said, come on. Now, wait a minute, buster. You ain't invited, sport. This is one of them small affairs, Paxton. This gun in my pocket, it ain't one of them gadgets. You pull the trigger and a cigarette pops out. Come on. Tom and the mug went out to a small black sedan parked at the curb. As the car raced down the street, I ran across the lobby into Dunlop's flower shop and called the police. When the squad car arrived, I told the boys what little I knew. We found Tom's office on the fourth floor. It told me more about his life since he left college than a 600 page biography. A battered couch, a filing cabinet with nothing filed away except a half empty bottle of gin and a beaten up desk that gave up a couple of oil racing forms. And then on the wall behind the desk, I saw something that really grabbed my heart. A picture of the college football team with Tom right in front with a pigskin in his arms, smiling defiantly like nothing bad could ever happen to him. I hung around after the police left. The picture made me feel low. I wondered how many beatings you had to take to go from All American to skid Row to maybe the county morgue. Then the office door opened and Tom was standing in the doorway. If only he looked different. He didn't seem to be so frightened anymore. Well, I hear there were cops all over the place. What are you trying to do, get me some publicity? Did Dixie give you a stay of execution? No, that wasn't Dixie. Just one of Frank Burr's tough guys. Burr, the big shot politico? Yeah, that's right. Had a little assignment for yours truly. Oh, yeah? How many times do you have to vote for him? No, it's nothing like that. I'm going to conduct a little investigation. So you remembered the old hat back, huh? I thought you didn't know what I was talking about. Oh, well, I had a lot on my mind downstairs. Wasn't in any mood to chew the fat. Well, what are you doing these days? I. I work on a newspaper. Oh, is that so? Help me. Like, you see, I went into the investigating game. It's not much of an office, but if big shots like Burr come to me, I guess it's not so bad, huh? No, I guess not. Say, this fella Dick's I mentioned, I. I don't want you to get any funny ideas about him. I just gambled a little over my head, you know, like anybody does now and then. Well, I owe the syndicate a few thousand bucks, so they think they can scare me by putting their hatchet men on my trail. Only if you remember Tom Paxton. You know, he don't scare so easy. Right. That's right. And that reminds me, I better call the boys right now and tell them I'll settle up at the end of the week. You know, I don't want him losing any sleep on my account. Well, I'll be going, Tom. No, no, no, no, kid. Stick around. Stick around. I'd like to talk to you, kid, about old times, eh? All right. Okay, Tom. Hello, Jack. Hiya, kid. This is Tom Paxton. Say, look, baby, I got some good news for you. I'll be able to settle with you boys at the end of the week. Well, I know I have, but this time it's on the level. Well, now, now, wait a minute, Jack. Don't. Don't hang up on me. Well, now, give me a break, baby. Three days. Oh, but I can't do the job in three days. No, wait, please don't hang up. Okay, okay. Three days only. Tell Dixie to lay off them. Yeah, thanks, Jack. Excellent. Three days. How am I gonna find him in three days? Tom, is anything I can do? Well, oh, yeah, yeah, there's something you can do. You can clear out of here. So you found me out, huh? That make you feel good or something? Oh, now, look, maybe if You've taken the beatings I have. Maybe if you've been crossed up, stabbed in the back, slug cheated as many times as I have you. Oh, what am I telling you for? Go on, get out of here. Sure thing. So long, Tom. No, no, wait a minute. Yeah? Look, you being a reporter, you could get into records I couldn't even touch. Couldn't you? Well, I think so. Look, if I had a week, I could do it on my own. But I've got to find him in three days. Who do you have to find in three days? Look, Stone, I'm not gonna kid with you anymore. I've got to make good on this job Berg gave me. I've got to get that fee. If I don't, this guy Dixie will. Who is this guy Dixie? That's what drives me nuts. Nobody knows. Only the syndicate. Why don't you go to the police? No, no, no. Cops are out of my line. If I could clean this job up in three days, Burr will pay me $5,000 and I'll be all right. It's like I've always said. All you need in life is one good break, and after that, you can roll on your own. What about Burr? Well, for a big shot, he's sure plenty scared. Says the newspaper is trying to destroy him. Oh, so? So the only way they can do it is to find somebody named John Duran. I never heard of him. Nobody, but not to Burr. What does Durand look like? Well, Burr wouldn't know what he looks like today. He hasn't seen him for 25 years. I've only got one thing to go on now. What's that? John Durant is a blind man. A big shot like Burr afraid of a helpless blind man. Afraid Bur's is frightened of that blind man, John Durand. As As I am of my unknown pal Dix. And now back to Nightbeat and Randy Stone. Tom and I started work the next morning right after he picked up a fresh, sweet smelling rose from Mr. Mrs. Dunlap's florist shop in the lobby. It's funny, but for Tom, a flower in his lapel was like a shot of benzo drink. After that, we split up. I went down to the paper to have a talk with a political editor. Yes, everyone interested in clean government was trying to wash that Burr right out of their hair. But so far, nothing definite had turned up against him. Only a funny blank space in Burr's biography. A blank space that happened 25 years ago. And I got that ever loving jackpot feeling. 25 years ago. That's when John Duran, the blind man, entered the picture. Tom and I had to find that blind man and we had three days. Randy, I'm calling from City Hall. I've checked all the city directories. No John Duran. Oh, that's great. I visited every agency that helps the blind. Nobody's ever heard of it. What are we gonna do, Randy? What else can we do? We keep. He's not on any credit report. His name's never appeared on any police blotter. Well, we're running out of time. Nothing to do but keep looking. I've been going through the records over at the county building. I can't find a trace. We've got only one day left, Randy. The syndicate gave me till midnight tomorrow. What are we gonna do? What we've been doing right along. Keep looking. The third day we started making the rounds of all the hoodlums, hangouts, the bars, the pool halls, the mangy little side street flop houses. I took one section of the city and Tom took the other. And late that night in one of those flop houses, I got the shock of my sweet life. No, nobody named John Durant ever stopped here. Well, I thought he might have stayed here under a phony name. He's a blind guy. I know all about him. Mister. You what? What did this poor sucker do anyhow? Every hoodlum I know is looking for him. What are you talking about? Just what I said. Every guy in town who've cut a throat to earn a buck is looking for John Duran. It was after 9pm When I got back to Tom's office to break the news to him. Poor guy. He thought Burr had given him an exclusive assignment. And all the time Burr had set up a private manhunt. He'd unleashed every madman dog in town to track down John Durand. When I got to the office, the door was open, but Tom wasn't around. I sat down to wait for him and the phone started ringing. Hello? I'd like to speak to Mr. Paxton. Well, he's not around right now. Any message? Yes, this is Frank Burr calling. Oh, yes, you can tell Mr. Paxton that he can stop his search for John Durand as of now. Does that mean you're. Oh, you know about it, eh? Oh, yes. I'm helping Paxton. Did you find Duran? No. I know where I can find him when I want to. I see. Then I. I guess that winds things up. Yes, tell Mr. Paxton, will you, please? Yeah, I'll look. As long as it's all over with. Why have you been so Anxious to catch Duran. After all, he's only a blind man, and I. Mm. I'll ask a silly question. You get a silly answer. I had just hung up, thinking, poor Tom. Now there's no way out for him. His three days were just about all washed up. Now there was nobody left but his friend Dixie. And then, like I'd said a magic word or something, the door to Tom's office started slowly opening. Tom came in, leading a little old guy with smoked glasses and a white cane. Tom, you found him. You found a rant. I should be so lucky. No. This is Mr. Graham, one of the directors of the Institute for the Blind. Hello. How do you do? I'm going batty, banging my head against walls. I figured maybe Mr. Graham might give us a leap. Oh, Mr. Graham, this is Randy Stone. How do you do, sir? I hope I can be of service. Oh, thank you, but I'm afraid It's too late, Mr. Graham. Too late? What do you mean? A bird just called. He's found Duran. You can forget that $5,000 fee. You're fired and fixed. Comes into the picture again. The syndicate gave me only until tonight. Yeah. Excuse me while I make a call. Who are you calling about? 2,000 cops. Hang up the phone, Randy. What are you talking about? You need them. Now hang it up. Don't be nuts. All right, I'll hang it up for you. Now, what's that for? Calling the cops. Big deal. Maybe it would delay my trip to the morgue, but if that's the best I can get. It's no soap. The cops would protect you. Sure, for a week, two weeks, maybe even a month. But then what, Dixie? It'd still be waiting. He's never missed an appointment. They'd pick him up before he reached you. There's a couple of small laws about killing people. How would they pick him up? They wouldn't even know who to look for. Gentlemen, I. I seem to be intruding. If one of you will lead me to the elevator act. Oh, you lead him, Randy. Then you get on the elevator right with him. Thanks for the try. Oh, no, wait a minute, really, will you? I'm expecting a guest. Mr. Graham, before we leave, for my own amazement, I want to ask you something. Yes? Can you think of any reason why a powerful man like Burr should be afraid of a helpless blind man? Well, of course, that's hard to say. Randy, will you get out of here, the both of you? Unless, of course, the man saw something just before he went blind that would incriminate Mr. Burr. Yes. You see, the blind never forget the last thing they see before they go blind. It stays alive in their mind until the moment they die. Well then, if Duran had been a witness to a crime Burke committed and then went blind, that would indeed make him the greatest possible menace to Burke. Well then, that's it. Hooray for our side. A lot of good it does me. Now I can tell you how it was when I went blind. It happened quite suddenly, as the doctor said it would. I was out in the country with my family. Wildflowers everywhere. And now that my blindness is. Has made me so overly sensitive to the lovely scent of flowers, the picture is even more real. You know, it's a strange thing about flowers. The blind man kept talking softly, more to himself than to us. Tom had spun his swivel chair around so that he was looking out of the window. The back of his shirt collar was soaking wet. I knew the pressure was building up inside him like steam in a boiler. Absently, he'd been taking the ever present flour from his lapel and he was tearing it apart with nervous fingers. And then Tom's back stiffened, staring through the window down at the dark street. I looked over his shoulder. A big car had stopped a short way down the street. A heavyset, well dressed man had stepped out. As he passed under the street lamp in front of the flower shop. I recognized him from his pictures. Burr. It's Frank Burr. Tom's voice sounded cockeyed. I looked at him. His face was falling to pieces like an overripe melon. He was looking at the flower he'd taken from his lapel. Mrs. Dunlop, she. She won't like what I'm doing to her flower. Always so proud because her husband could select sweet scented flower. Graham. What did you say before now? That my blindness has made me sensitive to the scent of flowers. Yes, I see. Mr. Dunlop, the florist. I never had a good look at him. He was always puttering around and back. You think so? I know John Durant was always just downstairs in the lobby. And there's still time for me, Randy. There's still time. As Tom raced for the door of his office, he pulled a gun out of his coat. I followed him. He went to the elevator, pressed the button a couple of times, and then decided to take the stairs instead. He looked back at me chasing after him and waved me back. He started down the stairs two at a time. I caught up with him at the second landing. I grabbed his shoulders as he tried to tear himself away. Let me go, Randy. Let Me go. What do you mean, there's still time? What are you gonna do down there, Randy? I'm telling you to let me go. Answer me. What are you gonna do? Sure, I'll answer. You're overboy. What do you think boy was gonna pay me $5,000 for just to give him Durant's address so he could send him nasty letters? No. There was one other little item I didn't tell you about. I not only had to find Durant, I had to make sure nobody else found him. I had to. I had to kill him. Oh, Tom, you're kidding. A helpless blind man. Oh, Burr thinks I'm the man for the job. He told me I was the ideal choice. Tom, you're not that kind of a man. Who says so? You think this is still the old football team with a lot of nice rules so nobody gets hurt too bad? This is a jungle rover, boy. It's dog eat dog all the way down the line. Now let me go. No. I said let me go. He broke away and took off the stairs again. But Tom had put on a lot of fat since college days, and walking the night feeder kept me lean. I caught up with him just as we reached the lobby. Randy, I'm telling you to lay off of me. Now leave me alone. You're gonna listen to reason. All you need is one good break. Well, this is mine, and I'm gonna take it. Now let me go. You're crazy. I can't let you do it. You'll have to let me do it, Randy. You're just gonna have to let me do it. Tom brought the gun barrel down on my head. My knees turned the ginger beer I reached for the wall to keep, but the wall fell right with me. I tried to cry out, but all I could manage was a wheeze. Helplessly, I watched Tom, with the gun still in his hand, go through the lobby entrance into the florist shop. Oh, Tom. Copper, what on earth are you doing with that gun? At that moment, the front door opened, too, and Mr. Berg came into the shop, also carrying a gun. Don't do that. What a spot for a chorus of Aul Lang Syne. What's going on, Mr. Paxton? What is this, huh? Is the job still mine? A smug little smile crossed Burr's face as he put his own gun away. Sure, why not, Paxton? A deal's a deal. He's in back working on his flowers, but it'll have to be her, too. Oh, okay, okay. Tom raised his gun as old lady Duran started running for her Husband. And then Tom seemed to hesitate, like something was going through his mind. Go on. What are you waiting for? Maybe Tom was thinking about his last 10 years on skid row, when he'd never done one decent thing. And maybe he thought it was time to start. Go ahead and get it over with, Paxton. Suddenly, Tom swung the gun away from the cowering Duran and began shooting. There wasn't even time for that smug smile to leave Burr's face as Burr slowly crumbled to the floor. After that, everything started getting foggy for me. By the time the police arrived and splashed cold water on my face, Tom had gotten away, disappeared into the night. Burr was dead. And now John Durand wasn't afraid to talk. 25 years before, Burr had been a punk in the rackets. There'd been a bombing. One man killed, John Duran blinded. And the picture Duran carried in his mind, the last thing he saw before the lights were went out forever, was Burr throwing that bomb. After that, Durant was afraid. Burr tried to finish the job. So he changed his name and went into hiding. I told the cops about the gambling syndicate that had been hounding Tom, and they went after the boys. And all in all, it was quite an evening. Then around 3:30 in the morning, while I was sitting up in my office trying to bat out my night beat story, my telephone started ringing. Yeah? Randy, this is Tom. Tom? Hey, where are you? Never mind, I'm okay. I just wanted to let you know you. You were pretty good to me, kid. Listen, every cop in the city's looking for you. They can look until Christmas. It won't do them any good. I've got a hideout that they couldn't find with Radar. How come? It's like I always said, all you need is one good break. I got mine right out of a clear blue sky. Yeah, real square. Met him at a bar. Didn't know where to turn. This guy buys me a drink so says I look like I could stand a good meal and a place to sleep. He thinks I just blew into town and I'm down and out. Now he says I can stay here as long as I like. He's in the next room, so I gotta make this call short. Tom, I tell you, you're crazy for hiding out. The police will give you a break. Says who? I'm telling you, they will. And even if they did, what about the syndicate? What about Dixie? There isn't any more syndicate. Most of those hoodlums are already sitting in jail. Dixie too? No, but they'll have him soon enough. Not now. They've got a description of him. They know who to look for. Look, I gotta hang up. This guy's liable to pop in any second. But just for the records, what does Dixie look like? He's an ordinary fella. He wears glasses even. He's got gray hair. Looks more like an insurance man than a hoodlum. Dixie looks like that. The only two distinguishing marks, according to the police, is that thumb is missing from his left hand. Freddy, has he got a white scar under his eye? How did you know that? Look, Randy, the guy that took me to this hideout, the guy that gave me the break, he sticks here. What? Where are you? Quick, tell me. He's coming. Randy. Tom. No, no, no. Tom. Tom. Operator. Operator. Operator. Yeah, Like Tom always said, all you need is one good break tomorrow. Sure. A nice pleasant morrow coming right up. Well, maybe not so pleasant. Tom had been dead a long time before Dixie caught up with him. Tom had died when he found out he wasn't always going to be a hero. The guy on top of the heap what is there about people that they've got to be number one or they won't play? What's so bad about being number two or number three? Why does life have to be one great victory after another? What's so fancy about us that we can't afford to fall on our face every so often? The fellow who said, God, give me the strength to fail really had something. And besides, not making the top of the heap has its compensations too. It's a lot less lonely down here among us. Also Rands copy boy Nightbeat, a dramatic series stars Frank Lovejoy as Randy Stone. Nightbeat is distributed exclusively by Nostalgia Broadcasting Corporation, Cedar Rapids, Iowa. From Hollywood, it's time now for Edmund o' Brien as Johnny Dollar. Ralph Wheaton again. Johnny, I'm glad I caught you before you left. It was almost two hours before my plane leaves. What's on your mind? Another cable just came in from Manila. The amount taken in the burglary is roughly $75,000. That's dollars and not pesos. Dollars? Yeah, they mentioned that a clerk has dropped out of sight. Native? An American. Name's Blake. Daniel Blake. Blake. All right. That's all so far. What's your hotel in Manila? Do you know yet? Yeah, the hotel Tondo. Tondo. Good. I'll get word to you there if I learn anything you can use. Well, good luck on the trip. Edmund o' Brien in another adventure of the man with the action packed expense account. America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator. Yours truly Johnny Dollar, expense account submitted by special investigator Johnny Dollar to home office, Columbia All Risk Insurance Company, Hartford, Connecticut. The following is an accounting of expenses expenditures during my investigation of the Woodward Manila matter. Expense count, item 1, 1850. Airfare and incidentals between Hartford and Manila. Flight number 103. Will you go to the ticket office, please? Passenger Dollar, from income. My name is Dollar. I was being paged. Oh, yes. These gentlemen are waiting for you. This is Mr. Dollar, sir. Oh, yes. I'm Floyd McDonald, Mr. Dollar, local manager of the Woodward Company. How are you, sir? And this is Irving Morgan, my assistant. Morgan. Glad to meet you. I've made arrangements to have your luggage sent to your hotel. If you'd like to do it that way, Irving and I can drive you right in. Fine. It's darn nice of you. Well, I know how it is. At least I don't want to bother with the tails after a long flight like that. You'll give me your luggage check, sir? Oh, yeah, I'm right here. Thank you. Well, that's all, I think. The car is right outside. We can give you the details of the burglary. On the way in, he told me very little that I didn't already know. The story. Managed one of Manila's largest hardware stores. Was part of the American owned Woodward chain. He had discovered the loss of the $75,000 himself Monday morning when he entered his office and found the safe open. Naturally, I feel very badly about it, but everything that can be done is being done. I don't know who the main office is blaming it on, but I think you'll find that Floyd and I were anything but careless. We've got five years without a loss behind us to prove that. And it only takes one failure to ruin a success. Irving, there's 75,000. Do I understand that it was all American currency? No, no, it was made up of pesos too. I stated the amount in dollars. Since when I reported the loss. Were you in the habit of keeping as much money as that in your office safe? It wasn't my idea or to my liking. It was because of a company rule. They were worried about conditions on this side of the Pacific and ordered us to stop banking our cash here. Instead of the usual yearly transfer of our money, it has been going to the States once a month. They didn't save much this time. What about this clerk, Dan Blake? Oh, don't get me started on him now. There's nothing proved yet, Irving. What is it going to take to open your eyes, Floyd? We don't agree on just what to think about Dan. Mr. Dollar, in spite of the circumstances, I. But I find it almost impossible to believe that Dan would do this to me. Could he have done it? Of course he could. He had access to the office. And he could have memorized the combination of the safe. Yes, yes, that's true. But I can't forget that he was very good friend of mine. He was like a son to me. Was he in any trouble that you know of? Or any money? I hadn't heard of anything. He's been out of sight four days now. What kind of a search has been made for him? Well, I understand that the police have been working very hard. They class him as the chief suspect too. Yes, but you've got to realize that the Philippines aren't like the States, Dollar. It's not hard to drop out of sight here. It's a big world. I know. I just watched a lot of it pass by. Well, as soon as my luggage arrives and I can get into a fresh suit, I'll contact the police, see what they've got. Expense count, item 2, 350, including tip. A picture of gimlets delivered to my room while I waited for. Waiting for my baggage to arrive, I relaxed in front of a window. My hotel was two blocks from Manila's great bay in a section called El Puerto. From my room I could see enough of the Orient, the native craft working the harbor to give even a common hardware store burglary. An atmosphere of intrigue. Expense account item free. $0.80. Cab fare to police headquarters where I was shunted into a side office to wait for the sergeant in charge of the Woodward case. He finally showed up. Sergeant Malvar, you wait for me? Yes. My name is Dollar. I know. You come to talk of my burglary. You are a policeman? Well, not quite. I've been hired by an insurance company to learn what I can about him. What do you wish to learn from me? Whether you've made any progress. Have you gotten any place with your search for Dan Blake, then? Blake? No, I do not look for him now. You don't? No. I have captured the thief. Who is it? Miguel? No, Saleda. You've recovered the money? He will not say where it is yet. But he will say tomorrow maybe. What evidence do you have, Sergeant? He cannot say where he was that night of the burglary. Is that all? He's by profession etif. He was arrested while he was robbing another stone daughter last night. Does he speak English? Oh, yes. Wonder if I could talk to him. Maybe he's afraid to confess to the police. And maybe I can get him to talk. All right. You come with me. You do not stay long. Only five minutes. That's good enough. Miguel. Who are you? Why you come here? How old are you, Miguel? 50. Where do you work? No work. Get hurt in bombing? No work. Have any children? See two daughters. Where do they work? Does either one work at the Woodward hardware store? Work in prison? Both work in prison. Sergeant Malvar says you stole some money from the Woodward store. No. You'll make it easier for yourself if you tell the truth and give up the money. I don't got money. If I got money, then why steal 5 pesos from other place? Why you tell police? Why? If I got lots of money, why steal a little more? Why? Because I don't got lots of money. That's good enough for me. Miguel. Sorry I took up your time. You do not stay long. I think he wants to sleep. What would he say to you? That he didn't do it. But if he had, you wouldn't have caught him stealing five pesos because he wouldn't have needed it. He need a kick in the head for his lying. Do you have any connection between him and the Woodward place? He tell you he got two daughters in prison? Yeah. He lies. They come out, but they do not go back to him because he steal their money. Oh, the daughters of connection with Woodwards connection. If we need connection, we find one. All right. Tomorrow, maybe. I had an idea. Sergeant Malvar's philosophy reasoned that it was a lot easier to grill the wizened little prisoner than it would be to continue the search for Blake. But I left him to his own devices and cab to the Woodward store. I was told that neither Floyd MacDonald nor Morgan were in, but that a secretary would help me. Oh, how do you do, Mr. Dollar? I knew that you were coming out. My name is Charlotte Page. Floyd MacDonald's my uncle. Oh, I didn't know that he had to go out to Ermita with an order for a house that's being built there. Can I help you in any way? I wanted to look at the office, find out where the safe was. Oh, I can. I'll check this door first. Out lock. Have to have a key. Is this the only entrance? Well, the one window there, but it's in a blank wall. Mr. Dollar, I know you've been here only a little while, but have you learned anything? Not much. But all of it looks bad for Dan Blake. I can't believe it. I just can't believe that Dan Would do a thing like this. How well did you know him? Evidently not well at all. He stole the money. We're the same age. Found something in common working here together. I've had dinner with him occasionally, going to the beach. Know if he was in any kind of trouble, debts or anything? No. I thought he was very happy and comfortable here. He seemed to be. Where's this safe now? It's under the rug near the desk. You have to lift the corner of the rug. Did Dan Blake know where it was? Oh, yes. Everybody trusted him. He'd been here for years. Did he know the combination? No, I don't think so. Uncle Floyd handled the cash. Could he have memorized it? I don't know that either. I hadn't given it a thought. I guess we can put the rug back. Oh, I forgot to get Blake's address from the police. You happen to know what it is? Oh, I've forgotten it somewhere on Sampaloc. I can find it on the payroll. It should be right here. It'd be too easy to find him there, wouldn't it, Mr. Darling? Much too easy. But I might pick up a crumb or two. Oh, here it is. 307, sample lock. Screen 307, sample lock. Thanks. Tell Mr. McDonald I was here, would you, please? And that I'll be in touch tomorrow. There was a fair biography of Dan Blake in his rooms. I learned that he was born in Duluth, Minnesota, 26 years ago. That his father wrote him occasionally. That he had sailed with the Merchant Marine during the war and had made a few into island trips after that. Floyd MacDonald had said he was a student of the Philippines and that was borne out by photographs and receipts from steamer and airlines. I made a list of the places he'd visited, but that was all I could do for that day. It wasn't until the next morning that I went to police headquarters and waited again for Sergeant Malvar. You come back again. We'd do very good without you, Reverend. Well, pardon me. I don't want to butt in. I just wondered if you knew that Dan Blake spent a lot of time learning these islands. Oh, did you know that he'd spent some time in San Jose? On Mindoro, Don Maran, Duke and Impalo and Leyte? I did not know it might pay you to check those places. There are more too. From here clear down to Mindanao. The search is finished, huh? What do you mean? Dan Blake has been found? He was adrift in a dugout on Tayawa's Bay. He was taken aboard a ship and then he died. What killed him? He was shot many times. What about the money? It has not been found. Not yet, sure. But maybe tomorrow. We'll return you to the second act of yours truly, Johnny Dollar, in just a moment. With winter in the wind, driving becomes more hazardous every day. Not as much for you in your car as for the people walking across the street or along the edges of a highway. A shoe touches a tiny strip of ice. Someone loses his balance, falls in the wrong direction and there is sudden death. Check your car carefully. Make sure your brakes are good. Make sure your tires have a heavy tread. Check your steering wheel. Someone's life may depend upon the efficiency of your automobile. Upon the care of your driving. Now, with our star, Edmund o' Brien we return you to the second act of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Sergeant Malvar, Manila police was again taking his inimitable approach to a subject, believing what he wanted to believe. When I asked him how he knew the body was that of Dan Blake, he told me the ship captain who had picked him up said so. How did he know? The man had mentioned the name before he died. That was all, and it wasn't enough for me. I put in a call for Floyd McDonnell, the Woodward company manager. Mr. McDonald's office. Is Johnny dollars, Mr. McDonnell there? No, he stepped out for a moment. This is Charlotte. Is there anything I can do? I'm calling from police headquarters. They have a body down here. A body? Picked up by a ship someplace. They claim it's Dan Blake, but there wasn't any identification on him. You tell Mr. McDonnell I want him to come and look at him. Yes, he should be back any minute. I'll tell him to come. When did this develop, darling? And why wasn't I notified? Nobody was notified, Mr. McDonald. Sergeant Malvar was playing it close to his chest. Where is Sergeant Malvar? Didn't tell me where he was going. He left word that we could look at the body and he left. My name is Dollar, Corporal. See you go in. Thanks. I know this is unpleasant, but we have to find out. Good Lord. Is this Dan Blake? Yes. Yes, it's Dan. Cover him up, please. Where did they find him? In a dugout canoe. Someplace called Tyabas Bay, I think. Yes, Tiabus Bay, southwest of here. Who found him? Man by the name of Kovar. He's the captain of an Inter island schooner. Could we leave here? What happened? Do you know? Not firsthand. He'd been shot in the back four times. He was alive for a short time after Captain Kohar picked him up. The money has not been found. I see. Then there's no explanation yet? Not that I know of. The schooner is anchored offshore, just south of the Pasig River. You know where that is? Yes. I'd like to talk to this schooner, Kovar. I guess I can hire a boat to take me out there, huh? I'll drive you down to the docks. As a matter of fact, I'd like to go with you. It's a good idea if you have the time. Well, I'll take the time. That's my car there. That must be the boat. The Sea Nymph. Is that the name? That's it, skipper. That's the one there. The Sea Nymph. That's a little precious for a wreck like that, isn't it? Some are even worse. I don't know how they stay afloat. There's somebody on deck. What do you want? You Captain Kovar? Yeah, that's right. I want to talk to you about the body you brought in. You the police? No. This man is MacDonald. Dan Blake worked for him. Hey, copper, get a line on the shoreboard. Okay. Come on board. I'll put the ladder over for you. Watch it now. She's got quite a pitch today. Go ahead, Frank. Have you got it? Yep. My name is Dollar, Captain. I'm working on the burglary for an insurance company. Come on in the cabin. I'd like to learn about that burglary. All that police sergeant would tell me is that I got the money and I better give it to him. That'll take some doing. Take the chairs, you two. I'll take the bunk here. Well, now, what's this all about? There's a little over $75,000 missing. He didn't have anything when I picked him up. He was in a dugout canoe. That's right. Looked like a moro craft to me. Oh, I see what you mean. It was empty. I looked it over. How long did he live? 15, 20 minutes, maybe. Not that long. I don't think taking him aboard did any good for him. But I didn't know. Did he say anything about the shooting? Nothing that I could understand. What did he say? I told you I couldn't understand. Just some noise. But you are able to understand. You're beginning to sound like that police sergeant, mister, and I don't like it. I thought I was doing right when I brought that boy. Now, wait a minute, Captain. We left him there. Police right now are getting papers to search my ship. And now you start. I'm not making any accusations, but you are the last person to See him alive. I'm interested in what he said. Well, he said Blake. Blake. That's all I can understand. Tell you the truth, I wish I'd left him there. But you know what I think? What's that? If he went from Manila to someplace on Tayabas Bay where he had his dugout, plenty could happen. It's about 60 miles. You heard about our hucks? Our rebels? Yeah, I've read about them. They're a bunch of cutthroat scum and they don't think twice when they get the chance to kill an American. $75,000. So much the better. What do you think, Mr. McDonald? Well, certainly a possibility. The hucks are active. I guess there's not a chance of putting our finger on it if that's what happened. Not a chance. All right, then let's leave that possibility until the last. I wasn't sure of Captain Corbin. If he was was telling the truth, he was doing so without tact. And if he was lying, he seemed to be doing that with complete confidence. I didn't bother questioning his crew. I knew that Sergeant Malva, if he hadn't already, would take care of them when he returned to search the schooner. I spent the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon in routine legwork on the case. And at 4 o' clock I got the sergeant's report. There was nothing. From one end of the ship to the other end. My men look. I know it is there, but it was not found. Did you talk to the crew? Yes, I talk myself to them. They do not hear Dan Blake say anything. The captain is the only one who hear him. What have you done with him? What is there? I can do nothing. I leave his ship and that is all. What now? What now? There is nothing now. So the hooks killed him, then. That is all. I learned a few things about Floyd MacDonald this afternoon. So he's up to his neck in debt. Did you know that? So I don't know about the Philippines, but in the States it's an old pitch to have a patsy found full of bullets. But without the missing money, I do not know what you say. And maybe it looks like Dan Blake is the thief when somebody else is. I haven't been able to find a reason for the kid to have done this. Now I find that MacDonald needed money. I did not know that. It would not be wise for me to question him in Manila. Mr. McDonald is not the man to suspect. He is known as a man with honor. Yeah, so I gathered. That's probably why he could get so far into debt. I didn't think it would be wise at that point for me to question Floyd MacDonald, either. I waited until his story closed that evening and until his assistant, Irving Morgan, had gotten to his home. Good evening, Mr. Morgan. Oh, hello, Mr. Dollar. I've been thinking about you. Come on in. Thanks. Well, how's it going? It's hard to tell. From what I hear, the money's gone for good. Did MacDonald tell you that? Yeah. Isn't that right? Maybe I don't make it a habit to go around switching the values of national problems, but it's occurred to me that these hucks could be pretty handy people to have around. I don't get you. Well, when a killing outside the city can't be explained any other way, it's marked off to the huck. Oh, you don't think they shot Blake? I'm not as sure of it as everybody else seems to be. Just what do you mean, Mr. Toddler? How much did you know about MacDonald's personal life? Well, I see him socially, if that's what you mean. We're good friends. Does he owe you any money? Seems to me that's a very personal question. I have to ask that kind once in a while. I've learned that MacDonald owes a lot of money to a lot of people. 1,000 here, 1,500 there. Loans, gambling debts. He'd be ruined if this became common knowledge, Mr. Dollar. He'd lose his position, everything. How far do you think McDonald'd go to save himself? Are you telling me you think Floyd arranged this theft? Well, it's something to think about. And killed Blake to. No. No, he didn't. You're sure of that? He couldn't have. He's not that kind of man. He might be be desperate, yes, but he'd never do a thing like that. Would he be at home now? I don't think so. It's only seven. He usually has dinner at the club. What club? The Merchant's Club, Mr. Dollar. Don't question him down there. Wait until he gets home. All right. I can count on you not to tell him I'm waiting for him. You certainly can. I want to stay as far away from this thing as. An hour and a half later, a cab dropped me in front of Floyd MacDonald's home. The residence, at least, was a picture of propriety. Set in a fashionable suburb. It was within earshot of a bellboy somewhere in the bay. I followed a sidewalk across a neatly hedged lawn and halfway to the house. I stopped to watch A man come out of the front door. Captain Colbert. Who is it? What do you want? What are you doing here? Forget it. I can't. What's your part in this? Never mind. Forget you saw me. Come here. Cover. Get off. Get on cover. Oh, now you. I didn't expect this. You live here? Yes. I came to talk to your uncle. Is he here? No. And Captain Kova was with you? Yes, Captain Kova was with me. You're hurt. What did he do to you? He hit me. Why? Because he's insane. He thought he had to hit me. He wanted the money, gave it to him. You gave him the money? Yes. All of it? Every penny of it. I didn't want it anymore. That's not what I mean. You were holding the money for Dan Blake? For us. We were in it together. Koba learned it from Dan before he died. Yes. Dan kept calling for me while he was dying. So this Koba thought he could blackmail me? He thought I gave him the money to keep him quiet. Dan and I were trying to get away from this place. Have a life of our own. He tried. I don't care what happens to me. Where's the telephone? Through that door. But you don't have to call. I'll go to the police by myself. I just wanted to wait till Uncle Floyd got home. I'm not worried about your personal problems. Charlotte. That's not my job. Cover. And that $75,000 is all I want. I tried not to waste a minute, but time slipped by. 15 minutes on the floor. Phone 25 to get back to Manila. When Sergeant Mala finally arrived at the harbor police dock, a boat was ready for us. Come as quick as I can. His ship is not at anchor. I checked it. He moved out about 20 minutes ago. We go then. It's a dark night. Why do we don't find him? He do not. Get out of the way. The boats near Corregidor are right now waiting. The girl? She was an accomplice. She held the money. So if he was picked up, you couldn't prove possession. She was going to meet him later. The hooks shot him. That's what Kova told him so. But the hooks do not kill him. What's that? Police doctor. He said bullets do not kill Blake. Blake choked to death. Go and choke him to learn the secret. I think we could prove that. Sergeant. We get any more speed out of this thing? Come on, let's get inside out of the spray. A 20 minute start isn't much when a schooner with auxiliary power is matched against A police boat. With our speed and the beams from four searchlights fanning out around us, we covered every possible course that Kova could have set. It took us less than 30 minutes. Already we go outside. Yep, there she is. Now I show this man we are strong. But anymore we fire him front of him. I slowing him down. He cursed me that man, when I searched his ship. Now Sergeant Malari curse back. But he didn't mole tick. Is he crazy? Got one of our lights. You better douse the others before he smashes them. It's crazy. That depends on whether the dock has works for him or not. All I can see is his weight now. Do not get away. We move in right now. Go on board, Captain. Engine started. He's shouting something. Captain Koa. There is no use to fight. We come aboard Abra. Get the legend started. Get it started it the crew's turning on him. You won't, won't you? All right, you won't. He's got to be stopped. Sergeant, have your men stop him. Come on. There. He's running forward. You are my witness. The officials do not like the killing of accidentals. I'm your witness. Now if you'll put me aboard, I'd like to find that stolen money. Expense account, item 3. $230 blanket item covering hotel, transportation, etc. Item 4, same as item 1. Expense account. Total $3,940. Remarks after the arrest of Charlotte Page, the stolen funds were counted in front of witnesses and the amount was not as large as was claimed by McDonald. I don't know what you can do about it. Everybody seems to be out after something these days. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar stars Edmund o' Brien in the title role and is written by Gil Dowd with music by Wilbur Hatch. Edmund o' Brien's latest picture is the Paramount Pictures production Warpath. Featured in tonight's cast were Bill Conrad, Lillian BFF Robert Griffin, Bill Johnstone High ever back and Jack Crucian. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar is produced and directed by Jaime Del Valle. This is Dan Cubberly inviting you to join us next week at this time when Edmund o' Brien returns as yours truly, Johnny Dollar. You can sing it again on CBS tonight for a whole hour of fun packed music packed entertainment and maybe Dan Seymour will be calling you to solve one of the tuneful little riddle songs that lead to a chance at radio's largest cash. Jack. $5,000 plus 10,000 more in wonderful prices. Alan Dale, Judy Lynn, Bob Howard, the Riddlers and Ray Block's Orchestra are on hand to sing and play the riddle tunes leading up to Dan Seymour's coast to coast calls. Be listening again later tonight when Sing It Again comes along on most of these same CBS stations. Now stay tuned for Vaughn Munro's Caravan, which follows immediately on most of these same CBS stations. This is cbs, where you laugh with Lucille Ball and My Favorite Husband. On Saturday nights, the Columbia Broadcasting System Stone Gun Smoke brought to you by L and M Filters with the Miracle tip King Size regular, both at the same low price. Around Dodge City and in the territory on west, there's just one way to handle the killers and the spoilers, and that's with a U.S. marshal. And the smell of gun smoke. Gun Smoke, Starring William Conrad. The transcribed story of the violence that moved west with young America and the story of a man who moved with it. I'm that man. Matt Smith. Dylan, United States Marshal. The first man they look for and the last they want to meet. It's a chancy job, and it makes a man watchful and a little lonely. I'm sorry I'm so late, Mr. Dillon. You know, it's five miles to Fort Dodge and five miles back. Chester, figuring the time you were gone, you traveled about two miles an hour. Well, Major Honeyman kept me waiting almost three hours. Mr. Dillon, why didn't you leave the papers with the first sergeant? You told me to deliver him to the major. Well, I should have explained, I guess. Well, that's all right. Me and the first sergeant enjoyed a couple of beers at the sutler's. Oh, well, I trust Major Honeyman didn't mind waiting him. Oh, no, sir. It was me, Mr. Dillon. You see, when I got there. It's all right. It doesn't matter. It's all right, Chester. It's all right. After all, it's a pretty hot day. Oh, hot. Ain't nothing like it. You know, sir, I was wondering, all the way back, you think maybe someday they'll invent a way to kind of COVID up the sun a little? What? Who's they, Chester? Well, I don't know. The people that works on stuff like that. Them fellas that goes to school and all. You think they will? I think any man that went to school very long ought to have more sense than to try to cover up the sun. Oh, well, I didn't mean all the way up. I meant just part of it. Oh. Well, I can think of one man that's already done that. Really? Who's that? Fella called John B. Stetson. Oh, now, Mr. Dillon, I'm serious. So am I, Chester. Marshall Dillon. Ah. Hello. Jim Hill. Marshall from Amarilla. How do you do? This Chester Proudfoot. Chester. Glad to know you. I'm looking for a man, Marshall. Fella called Dan Gratt. You know him? No. Never heard of him, have you, Trista? Ain't no Dan Gratt around here. Well, he's coming here. Told one of his girls in Amarilla he was. I'll wait for him. What do you want him for, Hill? Murder. Murder? He shot three men in Amarillo. Two of them in a fair fight. But he made a mistake with the last one. Grant didn't know it, but the man wasn't even armed. A friend of yours? No, I didn't know him. Some gambler. Then why are you after Grant? I thought maybe you'd heard of me, Marshall. I'm sheriff of Amarillo. Oh, I see. Well, it's been a long time since I've been in Amarillo. It's no quieter than it ever was. But it'll get worse if I don't stop men like Dan Gratt, no matter how far they run. You said he didn't know the man wasn't armed. Well, why would he be running? He found out after he'd shot him. You say it shamed him, killing an unarmed man. One thing about Grant, Marshall, he ain't no coward, but he enjoys shooting people. He's a gunman. And I'll tell you something, Marshall. Dan Gratt ain't well known, but he's about as handy with a gun as anybody in the state of Texas. Men who watched him say he's the fastest they ever saw, bar none. Well, I'll help you take him, Sheriff. I only come here to tell you what I was doing in Dodge, Marshall. I don't need no help. Well, he's just a murderer. Why take a chance? I'm pretty good myself, Marshall. I ain't afraid of him. Well, okay. And if you run into him first, save him for me. I'd hate to have made the ride up here for nothing. I'm staying at the Dodge House, Marshal, if you want to find me. So long. So long, Mr. Dillon. I don't quite make him out. Why not, Chester? Well, I mean, not wanting you to help him if it's true what he says about this damn grat. The sheriff's like a lot of men, Chester. He's too proud, too confident himself. You'll get him in trouble someday. Yes, sir. It's a mistake some gunmen make, too. You mean like Dan Gr. Oh, I don't Care about Dan Gr. It's Sheriff Hill I'm worried for. L and M filters are sweeping the country. L and M, the filter tip cigarette everyone's talking about. Everyone's changing too. Here's what Joan Bennett told us. Never before have I found a filter so good a taste I enjoy so much. As in L and M's. And David Wayne says, l and M's have the best filter of them all. Miracle Tip is right. There's nothing like it. Diana Lynn wrote, I had no idea a filter cigarette could taste as good as L and M's. They're light and mild and full of flavor. Yes, L and M filters are truly sweeping the country. Breaking more sales records every day. The reason? It's the filter that counts. And no filter compares with L and M's Miracle tip. Notice how easy it draws. You get much more flavor, much less nicotine. Yes, this is it. L and M filters. This is it. Something new now. Two sizes. L and M filters. New, King size and regular, too. This is it. L and M filters. L and M filters with the miracle. So join the trend to L and M. King size regular, both at the same low price. Evening, Matt. Sit down. Oh, thanks, Kitty. Why didn't Chester come over? Oh, he's waiting at the bar for a friend of his. Man or woman? A man. He owes Chester some money. He said then they won't be friends for long. That's only $2. I lost friends for less money than that. You must have lived among mighty poor people. Any camp I've been in, most of the citizens went from rich to poor a couple of times every month. Now, that beats working for a living. You believe that? Why don't you take up gambling, Matt? You know, sometimes I think that might be a good idea. It's safer than what you're doing now. Instead of being safe, all I wanted, I'd take up raising hogs and potatoes. Kidding. That's about what I figured. They told me at the bar you was Marshall Dillon. Yeah, that's right. I just rode into town, Marshall. You're the first man I wanted to see. What about? It's like this, Marshall. I'm kind of free and easy in my ways. Sometimes people don't understand. Understand what? That they shouldn't try to stop me. Well, nobody's stopping you, stranger. You do whatever you want, short of breaking the law. It's the law I'm talking about, Marshall. All right. Say it plain, mister. Sure. I get in a fight, I kill somebody. I don't want no trouble about it. That plain enough? Where are you from? Texas. Amarillo. How do you know the sheriff? Jim Hill. He's here waiting for you, Grant. Where is he? I don't know. He'll probably be in here later. Why don't you wait? No, I'll find him. After I do, we'll talk some more, Marshall Grant. What about? Breaking the law here. That includes resist and arrest you. Explain it to me later. Marshall chester. Yes, sir, Mr. Dillon. Chester, go find Sheriff Hill and tell him Dan Gratz in town. The least we can do is warn him. Okay, sir. Where's your gun, Chester? My gun? Oh, it must be over at the office. I'll go right over and get it. You better find the sheriff first. Now hurry. Yes, sir. I'll try. The dog. Can't you stop it, Matt? I can't interfere with another lawman. Kidding. I offered to help, but he wouldn't have it. Why not? You too proud? Yeah, that's right, Kitty. He's too proud. You think Grat's going to kill him? Hell, I think he'll try. You don't like not being able to do anything about it, do you, Matt? No, Kitty, I don't. Yeah. You stay in here, Kenny. Grat found him, Mr. Dylan. Right there in the street. He. He yelled at him and then he shot him as soon as he turned around. Got said. Oh, that Grat's the one. Fastest man I ever saw. I mean. Well, he's just terrible. Keep out of the way, Chester. He's waiting for me. Yes, sir. What's the matter, Marshall? I break one of your laws? You just killed a man, Gret. He ain't the first man I've killed. Jim Hill was a lawman. He was here to arrest you for murdering an unarmed man in Amarillo. I didn't know he was unarmed. Your mistake. I'd have killed him anyway. I can kill anybody like you right now. See, Marshall, how easy it is. How is he, Doc? Man, I. I can't tell yet, Chester. Doc. He was hit in the head as well as the arm, Chester, and he's still unconscious. We'll know what damage it did when it comes to and not before. I've done everything I can for him. Yeah, I know, Doc. Of course you have. Another fraction of an inch, he'd be dead now. As it is, he may be all right in 10 days or. Well, who knows? I don't. Brad hit him. First shot. I could tell Mr. Dillon still got one off. I don't know why I had to miss him. Of course he missed him. Chester, Matt was out on his feet when he fired that sh. He dropped his gun before he fell. And who wouldn't with two bullets in his arm? Is it ruined, Doc? His arm? No. No, it's not ruined. It'll be stiff for a while, Doc. Mm. If I'd have tried to kill Grat, if I'd have had him a gun. I was gonna pick up Mr. Dillons and do it. But Grat kicked it away from him. It's a good thing he did. I wanted to kill him. I know. I know how you felt. It's a terrible thing watching a man like Mr. Dillon get shot that way, Doc. Of course it is, Chester. But killing Grat won't help him now. Well, if Mr. Dillon dies, I'll kill him. I'll get me a shotgun and I'll kill him. I'll blow him in half. Then we'll see how doggone fast he is. No, no, no, no, no. Calm down, Chester. You mustn't get it, I tell you. Go put some coffee on the stove right over there. Here. We'll both need it before the night's. Okay, Doc. But I sure hate to think a Grat standing around at some bar bragging how he shot down Mr. Dylan. Bartender, give me some whiskey. Coming up. You're Dan Gratt, huh? I don't know you, mister. No offense. I heard your name, Grant. Everybody's talking about you. What are they saying? How you shot the marshaling and all. You're pretty fast, Grat. The man to beat me ain't found a father yet. How come you didn't kill the marshal? He's still alive, they say he is. Whiskey. What's this? Bartender? Shot of whiskey. I said I wanted some whiskey. Well, that's whiskey. Don't fool with me. Get me the bottle. This here's Dan Grant, bartender. Fella that shot Marshall Dillon tonight. You didn't say you wanted a bottle. Get it? Oh, no. What's the matter with him? You friend of the marshal? Some is, some ain't. How about you? Me? I don't care one way or t'. Other. Make up your mind. Sure, Grant. I'm on your side. I wouldn't be talking to you if I wasn't. I guess I got some more convincing to do around here. About who's Top door? Not me, Grant. You don't have to convince me. Then act like it. Sure, sure. I was asking how come you didn't kill the marshal. He dropped his gun when I hit him in the arm. Why? That stop you? I don't shoot unarmed men. You don't what I said, don't you? You're armed, mister. Now, Grant, I ain't done nothing. I don't like your talk. You know about me, don't you? That gambler should have had a gun in Amarillo. I don't know what you're saying, Grant. I don't know nothing about you. Take out your gun, mister. Go on, take it out. No, Grant, no. Do what I tell you. But not me. No, I. I didn't. Your time's up. I didn't. Come in. Come in. Well, hello, Kitty. Hello, Doc. Oh, Matt will be glad to see you, Kitty. He's conscious. Oh, sure he has been all morning. Since about dawn, of course. He slept some since then. Is he gonna be all right, Doc? Oh, there's your answer. Hey, let's go back and see her. Hello, Matt. It's nice of you to come by, Kitty. I was gonna make you some soup or something, but I thought I'd see what you wanted first. Good. You know, that's been worrying me, Kitty. I was hoping somebody'd come by in time to keep me from being poisoned by Doc's cooking. Oh, poison for docs. Oh, you watch what you're saying, man. I could decide you're too sick to eat. Yeah, I could. I could keep you starved for weeks. It wouldn't be worth it to you, Doc. Not with me taking up your bed the whole time. How long will he be in bed, doc? Oh, maybe 10 days. Five will do it. I said 10. I'll make you a bed, Doc. You ought to rest, Matt. Especially with your arm hurt. You wouldn't dare go out to use it again. I. I hear Grat killed another man last night. Some stranger. They say Grat slapped him and then shot him down just like that. And he was standing real close to him. Why, what's that got to do with it? Now, Grat's the fastest man I ever saw, kiddie, and that's his weakness. What do you mean? It makes him overconfident. He draws and shoots so fast, most men haven't got a chance. Like Sheriff Hill. He didn't even shoot back. Well, how's that a weakness? A Grant was lucky with Hill, but with me, a fraction of an inch and he'd have missed entirely. And if he had, I'd have killed him. It's simple, Kitty. He doesn't take time to shoot straight. He doesn't think he has to. And he'll die for that someday. Matt. Yeah? You're not gonna face him Again as soon as I'm able to. You can't with that arm. Grat's assure of himself. He might not even notice my arm. What do you mean? He already knows about it. He does. What? You'll see, Kitty, when the time comes. This is it. L and M filters. This is it. Something new now. Two sizes. L and M filters. New King size and regular too. This is it. L and M filters. L and M filters. With the miracle tip. L and M filters are sweeping the country, breaking more sales records every day. The reason? It's the filter that counts. And no filter compares with L and M's miracle tip for quality or effectiveness. And notice how easy it draws. You get much more flavor, much less nicotine. Effective filtration. Our statement of quality goes unchallenged. L and M is America's highest quality and best filter tip. Cigarette. Buy L and M king size. Buy L and M regular. Buy. Buy a carton of L and M's king size regular. Both at the same low price. L and M light and mild. It made Doc awful mad. But five days later I got up. And then for the next week I spent every day down by the river, drawing and shooting. Drawing and shooting for hours on end. Doc told me I'd have a headache and the gunfire didn't help ease it. But I kept on. Grat found a fight and killed another man while I was at it. And I guess that spread some. Finally, I'd had enough. Then I went into the office one known where Chester was waiting for me. I declare, Mr. Dillon, your arm won't never heal if you keep working it so hard. My arm's in fine shape, Chester. I don't see how it could be. And I'm hoping Grant won't see how it could be either. I don't understand, Mr. Dillon. Gratt's so sure of himself. I'm gamblin. He won't noticing. Notice what? My gun. Your gun? Why, you're wearing it in your belt, Mr. Dillon. What'd you do with your holster? It's hanging on the wall over there, Chester. Where it's been all week. Well, forevermore. It's easier on your arm drawing it from your belt. Is that it? Well, that's part of it. Chester, have you seen Grat today? Yes, sir, this morning over at the Olaf Organza playing Pharaoh. Ah. All right, Chester, go find him, will you? Yes, sir. But what'll I tell him? Tell him that I'm going to arrest him about sundown. Let's say five o'. Clock. And I'LL start looking for him in the plaza. That way the word will get her on and nobody but us will get hurt. I swear, Mr. Dunley just gives me the jumps for us to be sitting out here all alone. Ain't hardly five o' clock yet, and Dodge already looks like a ghost town. Ain't one person here in the plaza. I can see a few heads peeking out here and there, Chester. Vultures, that's what they are. Waiting for. Somebody to die. Sorry, Mr. Dillon, I didn't. Somebody usually does die. Gunfight, Chester. It ain't fair. You with a bad arm. Can't you wait a while, Mr. Dylan? No, no. Grat's killed too many men already. Now, I've waited long enough. Well, I'll fight him by going. I will. I'll fight him. You would, wouldn't you, Chester? Yes, sure. Thank you. Uh. Oh, there he comes. All right, Chester, get out of the way now. No. You heard me, Chester. Yes, sir. All right, that's far enough, Grat. I was just going to shake hands with you, Marshall. What? Before I kill you. You're a brave man, Marshall. I shot you down once and you're back even before you're. Well, you're either brave or you're crazy. Doesn't matter, does it? No. I'll kill you anyway. You're pretty sure of that, aren't you, Greg? Why shouldn't I be? I already know I can outdraw you even without your arm being bad. Yeah. Yeah, that's right, you can. Never saw a man wanted to die so much as you do. Matter with you, Marshall. Wait a minute. You ain't wearing a gun. It's stuck in my belt. Oh, yeah? Well, that'll make it even easier, won't it? Let's find out. Gratz. You've got him, Mr. Dylan. You got him. Yeah. You hit him. All three shots. I can see. See every one of them. Hell, that took more time than he did. And he took plenty. But he was too sure of himself, Justin. That's what I was counting on. He drawed first, though. Yeah. He wasn't in any hurry this time, Chester. He knew I couldn't do much with a bad arm. Well, he was sure wrong. You killed him with it. You don't see any better than he did, Chester. What? The gun in my Belchester. The butt's pointing to the left. That's gonna be weeks before I can use my right arm again. Well, golly, that's right. Yeah, you used your left hand. It wasn't till I started the draw that he noticed it and when he did, it gave me an extra second and it cost him his life. And now our star, William Conrad. Thank you. If you're a filter tip smoker, you should be smoking L and Ms. Everyone agrees L and Ms. Are just what the doctor ordered. The first filter that really does the job and a real good taste to go with it. Maybe you'll prefer L and M king size, as I do, or L and M regular, but either size, I know you'll like them and I know you'll stick with them. L and M Triumph. Gunsmoke Transcribed under the direction of Norman MacDonald stars William Conrad as Matt Dillon, US Marshal Tonight's story was specially written for Gunsmoke by John Meston with music composed and conducted by Rex Corey. Featured in the cast were Vic Perrin, Paul Dubov, Harry Bartel and John Dana. Barley Baer As Chester, Howard McNear as Doc and Georgia Ellis as Kitty. Join us again next week as Matt Dillon, U.S. marshal fights to bring law and order out of the wild violence of the west in gun smoke. Here Gunsmoke every state Saturday, this same time, this same station, hear the great new Perry Como radio show every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, 9:00pm Eastern Standard Time. Also on CBS Radio. This is the CBS Radio Network. Foreign.
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Podcast Host
We just heard William Conrad in Philip Marlow, Night Beat, Johnny Dollar and Gunsmoke. That will do it for this episode. Thanks so much for joining me. I'll be back next time with more Old Time Radio detectives. In the meantime, you can check out Stars on Suspense, my other Old Time radio podcast. If you like what you're hearing, don't be a stranger. You can rate and review the show and 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 time with more Old Time Radio crime fighters. But until then, good night and happy listening.
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Narrator/Announcer
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.