
Escape 49-11-15 -085- Three Skeleton Key - William Conrad
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Narrator/Jean
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Louis
Save yourself money today. Increase your wealth. Customize and save. We save.
Narrator/Jean
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Auguste
Tired of the everyday routine? Ever dream of a life of romantic adventure? Want to get away from it all?
Announcer/Host
We offer you escape. Escape designed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high advent.
Auguste
Tonight we escape to a lonely lighthouse off the steaming jungle coast of French Guiana and a nightmare world of terror and violence. As George Todoes describes it in his hair raising tale 3 skeleton key.
Narrator/Jean
Picture this place, a gray tapering cylinder welded by iron rods and concrete to the key itself. A bare black rock 150ft long, maybe 40 wide. That's at low tide. At high tide, just the light rising 110ft straight up out of the ocean. And all about it the churning water, gray green scum, dappled, warm as soup and swarming with gigantic bat like devil fish, great violet schools of Portuguese man of war and yes, sharks, the big ones, the 15 footers. And as if this wasn't enough, there was a hot, dank, rotten smelling wind that came at us day and night off the jungle swamps of the mainland. A wind that smelled like death. Set in the base of the light was a watertight bronze door. And in you went. And up, yes, up and up and round and round, past the tanks of oil and the coils of rope, cases of wicks, racks of lanterns, sacks of spuds and cartons and cans, and up and up and up, round and round. Over the light storeroom was the food storeroom and over the food storeroom was the bunk room where the three of us slept. And over the bunk room was the living and cooking room. And over the living and cooking room was the light. She was a beauty, balanced like a ballerina on the glistening steel axle of her rotary mechanism. At night you'd lie there on the stone deck of the gallery with the light revolving smoothly and quietly over your head, easing her bright white eye 360 degrees around the horizon. You'd lie there watching to see that the feeders kept working, that everything ran right. It wouldn't be bad, the other two fellows snoring in their sacks two levels down. You'd smoke your Pipe to kill the stink of the wind. And it wouldn't be bad about those other two, Louis and Auguste. What a pair Louis he was. Head man was a big fellow from the Basque country. Black beard, little hard black eyes, and a pair of arms. I tell you, those arms were as big around as my legs. Yes, head man he was. And what word he let go was law, silent fellow. And although I spent my first two weeks trying to strike up a real conversation, the most I could ever get out of him was.
Auguste
I took up this profession because I don't like people. They talk too much. It's quiet work, light, tending. Let's keep it that way. You're getting to be as bad as August. I thought maybe for once they'd send.
Narrator/Jean
Me somebody who's Louis? And when he accused me of becoming like Auguste, I quieted down. Because Auguste was the talkingest man I'd ever met. The talkingest and the ugliest. He was hunchbacked, stood four feet high, had red hair and big blue eyes. It seems he'd been an actor In.
Louis
Paris over 200 different productions, dear boy. At the Grand Guignol. Oh, but it was monstrous, horrible. The way we used to scare the audience. I was hated.
Auguste
Yes, yes.
Louis
They used to throw things and hiss and bear their teeth at me. Finally it got too bad. I couldn't stand it any longer. I gave up the theater. My nerves, you understand. Yes, gave it up completely. I really did. I couldn't.
Narrator/Jean
It all started one morning at 2:30. I was on watch, lying on the cool stone deck, pulling on my pipe, staring out at the blackness, the phosphorescent combers and the big yellow stars. When out of the corner of my eye I noticed something show up for a second. Something the light had touched far off. I waited for her to come around again. And when she did, there it was. A three master. A big one. About a half mile off and coming down out of the north northwest. Coming straight for us. You must understand, our light was where it was for a very good. Dangerous submerged reefs surrounded us and ships kept clear. But this one, this sailing vessel, was coming straight on. I went over to the gallery door and yelled down for the reefs. I had the glasses out now. I couldn't read her name, but I could see her quite plainly. All sails set, the foam creaming away under her bow, her beautiful lines. A Dutch ship. I guessed her. Why didn't she turn? Every time it passed, our light hit her with the glare of day ship.
Auguste
Where?
Narrator/Jean
North northwest. The light will touch her in A moment.
Auguste
Oh, can't you see us?
Narrator/Jean
Look at her. She just keeps coming on the square heads.
Louis
What is it? What is it?
Narrator/Jean
Watch north northwest.
Louis
Ah, I know. I know what it is. The Dutchman. The Flying Dutchman. We did a play about a what? Oh, what a performance. You ghastly galleon hag ridden, curse driven mustard. Shut up.
Auguste
Yeah, she's laughing. Yes, it's a sloppy way to come about. She's derelict. That's it.
Narrator/Jean
Derelict.
Auguste
Abandoned. Crew left her for some reason or another. But instead of sinking, she's gone on running before every wind.
Louis
She'll not run long. Not with his reefs to break her up.
Auguste
A beautiful ship. Now, why would men leave a beautiful ship like this?
Narrator/Jean
She didn't ram us, although we all expected. Expected it. But as we waited for the crash, she left again. Caught some odd gust and went about. We watched her the rest of those black hours, healing and rocking, pushed and pulled by every stray wind, every freak current. Watched her until the dawn came. Till the sea turned from black to pearly gray. And on she came again, heading for us. We all had our glasses trained on her.
Auguste
August, you can kill the light.
Louis
Right, chief.
Narrator/Jean
She doesn't look so good by daylight. Think she'll ground this time? I say, do you think she'll ground this time?
Auguste
This is impossible. Absolutely impossible.
Louis
What?
Auguste
Here, take my glasses. They're better than yours.
Narrator/Jean
All right. What is it you're. I had to focus and then my breath froze in my throat. The decks were swarming with a dark brown carpet that looked like a gigantic fungus, but undulating. And on the masts and yards, the guys and all, were hundreds. No, thousands.
Louis
No, mil.
Narrator/Jean
I don't know. An inestimable number of trouble. Tremendous rats.
Auguste
See them?
Narrator/Jean
Yes, I see them.
Auguste
Now we know how. She's derelict.
Narrator/Jean
Yes, now we know.
Louis
What are you two doing here? Give me a look.
Auguste
Yes, give him the glasses. Take a good look, chatterbox. Give you something to talk about.
Narrator/Jean
She's still heading for us. Yes. If she's going to turn, she'd better turn soon.
Auguste
Suppose she doesn't?
Narrator/Jean
You mean, suppose she piles up on the quay? It's low tide. Yes. Yes, it is.
Auguste
Well, where's all the conversation, August? Here, you want the glasses again? You want another look?
Narrator/Jean
No, no, she's still coming on.
Louis
Go away. Go away. Turn, will you? Turn, I say.
Auguste
I pray you'll turn. Cracked up.
Louis
The rats look on the water like a carpet.
Narrator/Jean
They're swimming.
Auguste
Sure they're swimming. Those are ship threats.
Narrator/Jean
But they're swimming. From the rocks the door below.
Louis
It's open.
Auguste
Well, come on.
Narrator/Jean
And down we went, racing down the stone stairs, taking them three and four at a time. Scared? You bet we were scared.
Auguste
Argos, you get the windows. Maybe they can climb. I don't know.
Louis
Right, chief. But hurry. Hurry.
Narrator/Jean
Look.
Auguste
You see them? No.
Narrator/Jean
Oh, yes, I do. Up at the other end of the rock.
Auguste
Look at them.
Narrator/Jean
Millions.
Auguste
They smell us. Here they come. Or close the door.
Narrator/Jean
I can't.
Louis
It's not. Here, let me. Yeah.
Narrator/Jean
Made it.
Auguste
Holy, that was close.
Narrator/Jean
One got in.
Louis
Look there.
Auguste
Get him. Watch it kick.
Louis
Catch him. What a brute he was.
Narrator/Jean
As big as a tom cat.
Louis
Bigger.
Narrator/Jean
And his eyes were wild and red. His teeth long and sharp and yellow. He went for us, starving, ravenous. And we fought him. Fought that one rat all over the room. It was. Oh, believe me, I don't exaggerate. It was like fighting a panther.
Auguste
I got it.
Narrator/Jean
We'd better get aloft. As we ran up the winding staircase, we passed the tiny windows of the various levels. And at every one was a thick, wriggling, screaming curtain of brown fur. I was ahead of Louis, and I dreaded each successive level. Suppose they had found a way in?
Louis
Look at them. Oh, you look at them.
Auguste
It's a nightmare.
Louis
Will you look at them?
Narrator/Jean
The air of the gallery was thick and fetid with a stink of them. The light was dim. Floated through the crawling mass that swarmed over the glass all about us. We couldn't see the sky. Nothing.
Louis
Nothing but them.
Narrator/Jean
Their red eyes, their claws. Their wriggling, hairy snouts and their teeth.
Louis
The rats.
Narrator/Jean
They screamed and howled and threw themselves against the grass. They were starving. And we three. We stood very quietly. Oh, very, very quietly. In the center of the glass room under our beautiful light. And we waited.
Louis
What can we do? What can we do? Chief? Take it easy.
Narrator/Jean
Take it easy.
Louis
I. I can't. I just can't.
Narrator/Jean
It won't do any good to. It won't do any good to stand here and shake. That's right. Go away.
Auguste
Go away.
Louis
Do you hear me? Go away. Miss.
Auguste
They won't go away. Nothing too.
Louis
See. Not until. What?
Auguste
Not until they've been fed.
Narrator/Jean
You can take just so much horror, and then you get used to it. And they were interesting to watch, you know. They couldn't understand the glass. They could see us and they could rush at us. But that thin, invisible barrier held them off.
Louis
Stop them.
Narrator/Jean
From time to time, we caught a glimpse of the rocks below. More rats down there, swarming brown velvet in the bright tropical sunlight. And then the tide began to rise. Only it had drowned some of them.
Louis
Ship's rats don't drown. No, sir, you can't drown one of them. They're all climbing up the tower.
Auguste
This bunch around us is getting thicker.
Narrator/Jean
Say, what's the time?
Louis
Quarter six.
Auguste
You've got first watch, Sean.
Narrator/Jean
Right.
Auguste
Wake me at ten.
Narrator/Jean
I will. Come along. I'll go. It was getting dark. One side of the room was lit. A soft filtered red sunset through the rats. Oh, very pretty. I set the wicks, checked my fuel, then lit the lamp. It caught them, lit them in their gigantic wriggling web of pale hairless bellies, twitching red.
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Narrator/Jean
Kale's bright eyes. And then I started the rotary motor. The light broken mask as she swung slowly and smoothly about. She blinded them in the fierce stabbing bar of light, moving continually about, ever turning, ever touching, ever moving around and around. And they twitching and shuddering, eyes flaming when they were struck by the light. The bright light moving and behind on the dark side of the room. So close, so close I dared not turn my back. But you can't help turning your back when you're in a room made of glass. On the dark side of the room you couldn't see them, but only their eyes. Thousands of points of blank red light, blinking and twinkling like the stars of hell. And when I came up into the gallery early the next morning, there stood Auguste, his back to me. He was bowing to the rats, waving his arms and making a speech.
Louis
Dear, dear audience, I am going to play once again that magnificent role which made me the toast of the Paris theater. Trey Lottie, the evil genius of the medieval underworld. I am he who did guide the dark soul of Marechal into the Netherlands.
Narrator/Jean
I stood staring at him, horror struck. But he didn't notice me. The man had gone mad. He kept turning, telling his stories to all the rats, leaving no one out.
Louis
August. August. Another one. A late color. Take a seat on the aisle.
Narrator/Jean
Dear patron. Stop it.
Louis
Bury the blood. Blood stained monster was my partner in iniquity.
Narrator/Jean
He went on Bowing and scraping to the rats. His big blue eyes rolling and winking. His wild red hair waving about him. I grabbed him by the arms and hacked his face. He looked at me like a child, and then his face screwed up. He looked as though he were about to cry.
Louis
Go below. Go on. Oh, very well then. Later, my dear audience. Later matinee.
Narrator/Jean
Sure, he was crazy, but I guess we all were. A few hours later, he came back up. And caught Louie and me teasing the rats. Yes. Sounds horrible. It was fun. We would get right up against the glass and make faces at them. It drove them crazy. They would scratch away trying to get at our eyes. Louie was even cuter about it. He'd pull a piece of bread out of his pocket and press it against the glass. The rats would scramble into a solid ball. Biting each other, clustering like grapes. From time to time, a whole knot of them would slip and fall 110ft to the surf below. Look.
Auguste
Look at the sharks.
Narrator/Jean
They're eating them.
Auguste
Those sharks are our friends. Ah, here, here. I'll get another bunch together. Here, my beauties.
Louis
That's it. Pile up. Kill each other. There they go.
Narrator/Jean
Auguste joined in too. Very ingenious, Auguste. He learned that if he spread eagle himself against the glass. They'd bunch and bundle against his figure.
Louis
Then he'd leap back.
Auguste
Look.
Louis
My portrait in Ra.
Narrator/Jean
It went on all day, and then I was lying in bed. It was about midnight. I was very tired, and I was just beginning to fall off to sleep. When I became conscious of a new sound. I couldn't figure it at first. I got up, lit the lamp and went to the window. Even as I looked out, I saw one of the panes begin to sag in. They had eaten the wood away.
Louis
Louie, come quick.
Auguste
What is it?
Louis
They found a way in.
Narrator/Jean
I held the glass with my hand. Now they were all going crazy. And assured of the success of this maneuver. Were all nibbling away at the wood. Louis ran below and then returned with a large sheet of tin. We spread it against the window and hammered it into place. Even as we did so, we felt the heavy bodies thudding against the other side. As the window gave way.
Louis
There.
Auguste
That oughta hope. If it doesn't, we're done for.
Narrator/Jean
Rats can't eat tin.
Auguste
No, they can't. But what was that?
Narrator/Jean
I don't know. Came from below the storeroom window.
Auguste
They're in.
Narrator/Jean
They're swarming up the stairs.
Louis
Cross the trap.
Narrator/Jean
Hey. Two of them got in.
Louis
Let's go after them.
Narrator/Jean
We didn't have to go after them. They came at us. I leaped to one side and grabbed a marlin spike, swung and smashed one in midair. No. I whirled to see Louie with the other. It had ripped his hand open and the blood was pouring out. He held his hand aloft and kicked at the snarling rat. I stepped and swung and got him.
Louis
Oh, my hand. He got my hands.
Narrator/Jean
That's both of them, Louie. I'll get you something to tie that up.
Louis
Blood. Look at it.
Auguste
My blood.
Louis
I'm bleeding.
Announcer/Host
Don't worry about it, Elise.
Narrator/Jean
Here, I'll wind this kerchief around it. It'll be okay.
Louis
There, there.
Narrator/Jean
That's not bad. Just the flesh. Then I became conscious of a new sound. They were gnawing their way through the wooden trap door. I watched the wood, fascinated. And even as I did, it began way and a bristling, whiskery nose showed through.
Louis
Louie, you got to go up.
Narrator/Jean
The next level was the living quarters and kitchen. I slammed the trap there, but it too was wood.
Auguste
Oh, my blood. What are we going to do?
Narrator/Jean
I don't know. They'll be through this one in a minute.
Auguste
To the gallery. The trap door in the gallery is metal.
Louis
Good. Come on.
Narrator/Jean
We made it. We lay across the trap door, exhausted, while below us the rats took over the entire tower. I could hear them howling and fighting over our food supply, our water, our leather, and all about us. The others screamed and glared in at us, swayed in a tangled mass, hypnotized by the ever turning light. By morning, the air in the little room was horrible. Until now, we'd been getting air from the tower below. Now that was sealed off and so was all our food and water. We lay exhausted, panting, waiting, waiting. And the hours crawled on. I was almost dozing from fatigue when I saw a sight that brought me too fast.
Louis
Would you like to come in, my beauties? Would you? I hold the powers of life and death. And I can let you in, you know.
Narrator/Jean
August was standing by the glass, and in one hand he held a big wrench. He was tapping the glass gently, not quite hard enough to break it. I eased myself to my key and slowly, very slowly, tiptoed toward him.
Louis
All I have to do is tap just a little harder.
Narrator/Jean
I found a coil of wire in the tool kit and I trussed him up, fastened him to a stanchion in the center of the room. Louie was of no help. He lay on his side, looking at his bloody hand, weak and sick as a baby. So there I was, a lunatic and a coward for company. And all about watching our little drama.
Louis
The rats.
Narrator/Jean
The day dragged by. The supply boat wasn't due for another 12 days. I don't know what they could have done if they had come. And we had only one way of summoning them. That was to shoot off distress rockets. But the rockets were four floors below. And even if they'd been right there in the gallery, I couldn't have opened a window to fire them. That night I tended the light, but its flame was devouring our oxygen. The following day we lay thirst, tormented, starving, waiting. And the following night I again tended the light. But the small supply of spare wicking we kept in the gallery had become exhausted. And quite suddenly, at about midnight, the light went out. There was nothing I could do. Wicks were stored three levels below. Nothing I could do. Nothing. From time to time I'd strike a match to see the clock. When I did, it lit up the million red eyes about us, all about watching, waiting. Below. It had grown quiet. They've cleaned us out. And now they too were waiting. All waiting. Then the rats, quite suddenly were silent. And then I heard it. And then I saw the sky and the stars. The rats were gone. I went to the glass. Out there on the water, a small freighter, a banana boat showing a few lights, came softly and in innocently towards us. Our light was out. They didn't know I. I wanted to open the windows, to call out to them, to warn them somehow. But I was afraid. What if the rats were hiding from me, tricking me? So I wanna. She grounded very softly on a reef not 200 yards from the key. Grounded so gently that the man playing the cornet, was he a passenger? Crewman, off watch. Didn't even stop playing. They tried washing her back off. I could have told them to save their fuel. The tide was rising. Would have floated her free. And I waited. That's all. That's the story. The sun came up and there wasn't a rat on the whole key. Every last one of that terrible army had left us. Gone back to sea on their new ship. August Insane Asylum. He never recovered. And Louis? They took him into cottage where he died of blood poisoning. From his bite. Yes, that's the whole of it. And if you'll excuse me now, I must go set my traps. No. No mouse traps. No rats in this lighthouse. I should say not. Life in the lights isn't bad. But sometimes. Sometimes when I see a strange vessel approaching, I get a little nervous. Sure. Somewhere on the seas there's a little banana boat without a crew, that is, without a Human.
Announcer/Host
Escape is produced and directed by William N. Robeson. Tonight we have presented three Skeleton Key by George to Douce, adapted for radio by James Poe. Featured in the cast were Elliot Reed as Jean, Bill Conrad as Louis, and Harry Bartel as August. Special music was arranged and conducted by Adele Castillo. Next week.
Auguste
You are standing on the deck of a ship. Ship headed on an illegal mission to Central America. Before you, holding a gun in your stomach, is a desperate man who has just given you the choice between being killed or becoming a murderer yourself.
Announcer/Host
Next week, we escape with John and Gwen Bagne's exciting tale of a murderous trio of gunmen, runners in Central America.
Narrator/Jean
Maracas.
Auguste
Goodbye.
Announcer/Host
Then until the same time next week when once again, we offer you Escape. Stay tuned now for Life with Luigi, which follows over most of these CBS stations. This is cbs, the Columbia broadcasting system.
Harold's Old Time Radio – Escape 49-11-15: "Three Skeleton Key"
Date: October 11, 2025
Host: Harolds Old Time Radio
Original Broadcast: November 15, 1949
Featured Cast: Elliott Reid (Jean/Narrator), William Conrad (Louis), Harry Bartel (Auguste)
Episode Theme: Survival horror on a desolate lighthouse beset by an army of shipwrecked rats.
This classic radio drama episode of Escape presents “Three Skeleton Key,” a chilling tale of three lighthouse-keepers trapped by a relentless horde of monstrous rats. The atmospheric storytelling, period-perfect voice acting, and mounting suspense exemplify Old Time Radio mastery, plunging listeners into a nightmare of isolation, madness, and terror in the pre-television era.
The episode expertly blends claustrophobic terror, mounting psychological breakdown, and bleak gallows humor. Each character—gruff Louis, unstable Auguste, and the pragmatic Jean—offers a distinct voice to the encroaching madness, delivering lines in a mix of resignation, horror, and dark comedy.
“Three Skeleton Key” remains a standout example of Golden Age radio horror: atmospheric, dramatic, and unforgettably tense. This episode stands as both a chilling story of survival and a showcase of masterful audio storytelling, making it a must-listen for fans of classic suspense.