← Stars on Suspense (Old Time Radio)
Stars on Suspense (Old Time Radio)
Episode 404 - Torin Thatcher
01:31:33
British character actor Torin Thatcher made a name for himself as a Hollywood heavy in everything from seafaring adventures to magical fantasies. We'll hear him as a miner forced to return to the site of an accident where he was the only survivor in...
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Now, let's see. Suspect, suspect, suspend. Ah, here we are. Suspense, the condition of mental uncertainty, usually accompanied by apprehension or anxiety. Fear of something which is about to occur as do not keep me any longer in suspense. Hello and welcome to Stars on Suspense with another Hollywood legend in radio's outstanding Theater of Thrills. Our leading man this week is Torrin Thatcher, a British actor who made a name for himself in Hollywood in villainous roles. No surprise, as his name even sounds like it might belong to a big screen bad guy. Thatcher was deployed by Hollywood in big costume dramas, seafaring adventures like the Crimson Pirate and the Brando version of Mutiny on the Bounty. But he could also play less flamboyant roles. I know him best as the prosecuting attorney who squares off against Charles Laughton in Witness for the Prosecution. Thatcher made only one visit to radio's outstanding Theater of Thrills in a very good episode, albeit one that was probably better suited for escape. But by October 9, 1956, when this episode aired, Escape, CBS's anthology of adventure dramas was long gone. And Anthony Ellis, who had previously produced and directed Escape, now had the reins of suspense. That probably explains why Suspense presented the Digger with Torrin Thatcher in the title role. He plays Fabian, a once successful engineer, but he's been in self imposed exile ever since a mining accident that cost the lives of his entire crew. He's reluctantly pulled back into service when he learns the site of his fatal accident is being reopened and the company needs his experience on the ground. But Fabian has more obstacles to face than just the ghosts of his past. The local natives don't want the mine reopened, the tunnels are full of ravenous rats, and the right hand man on the project is nursing a grudge and wants Fabian dead. It's an atypical suspense episode, but it's a great radio drama featuring a strong performance from Thatcher, who, despite possessing a great voice, didn't do much dramatic radio work. The cast also includes Parley Bear, Lillian Byeff and Herb Butterfield. Now, most of Torin Thatcher's limited radio credits came on youn Are There? An educational anthology series produced by CBS for radio and later for television. The series put real life CBS News anchors into a radio time machine and they presented a live report from the scenes of famous events throughout history. We'll hear Torrin Thatcher play Marc Antony as CBS News brings us the assassination of Julius Caesar, Originally aired on April 24, 1949. And finally, we'll hear Torrin Thatcher as part of the ensemble cast of a fascinating episode of the CBS Radio Workshop originally aired on April 7, 1957, this is an innovative radio adaptation of no theatrical works of Japan dating back to the 14th century. This is a great example of the power of radio drama and the creative work being done in the medium even in the waning days of the Golden Age. Along with Torrin Thatcher, you'll hear actors who were no strangers to suspense, including past podcast stars Ben Wright, John Dana, Hans Conreid, and William Conrad. But first, it's time to start digging with Torrin Thatcher in suspense. We'll kick things off right after these messages. Looking for a good food buy? Then get Velveeta, Kraft's famous pasteurized processed cheese food. Velveeta is one of the best food buys you can make because Velveeta is not only delicious, but it's nourishing too. And you can use Velveeta so many ways in snacks, sandwiches and for a variety of economical hot main dishes. Melt Velveeta for a smooth golden cheese sauce to extend leftovers or to use in new made dishes. Make it your handy helper for all kinds of money saving hot meals. Get it tomorrow. Your best buy in cheese food Velveeta made only by craft Here's a poor chap who could be anyone you know, including you, Francis. Phil, what are you doing stretched out on the couch? You better get ready if you're going to that meeting. I'll have to miss it tonight. Too much supper. My stomach's got me down. Well, don't blame supper. You stuffed yourself like a glutton. I'm not just stuffed, I feel awful. I can imagine. You've got a good old fashioned upset stomach and I've got just the thing for it. Pepto Bismol. Oh, I don't want to take anything. I can't afford to stay home tomorrow. You won't have to. Pepto Bismol is not like that. It won't add to your upset, but will help to soothe and calm it very quickly. Nothing could be that good. No, Just try it here, take a good swallow of Pepto Bismol and you'll begin to feel better in no time. Why, you might even get to that meeting tonight. After all, Pepto Bismol is a gentler, better way to help an upset stomach. In fact, it's better in many ways. Pepto Bismol helps bring relief almost from the first moment. It begins to calm and quiet the upset right away. Then, because the Pepto Bismol formula is gentle and soothing, it doesn't interfere with normal digestion and doesn't add to the upset. Yes, Pepto Bismol is the dependable, speedy, pleasant tasting way to care for common stomach disturbances. Remember this when your stomach's upset, don't add to the upset. Take Pepto Bismol to soothe it, calm it and feel good again. Far to the south of us is our good neighbor country, Ecuador. Let's imagine ourselves there now, dining on the roof terrace cafe of the exclusive Hotel Metropolitano in Guayaquil, Ecuador. Near us. An American has just complimented his hosts on the magnificent dinner. To which his host quickly responds, ah yes, it is true, their foods are famous, but from your land comes a rare delicacy. Also, it is the superb wine, so excellent that we in Ecuador import it from your United States. My friend, I drink to you in your own delicious Roma wine. Our Ecuadorian friend is right for Roma wine's superb quality has won such favor in many far places that they import it, enjoy it as a rare luxury. But not so here in America. Here, millions know and enjoy Roma wines as an inexpensive everyday delight at meal times and when entertaining. So many, in fact, that Roma is America's largest selling wine. With no high import duties to pay nor expensive shipping costs, you enjoy these distinguished wines for only pennies a glass. Ask for Roma wines which bring you old world winemaking skill plus Roma's own modern controls and testing. That's R O M a Roma wines, America's largest selling wine, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. Make your bath a real pleasure and a beauty bath at the same time. With white floating Swan soap you can because Swan's exclusive super creamed blend gives you a wonderful new kind of beauty lather for your bath. Rich, creamy lather that cleanses gently, then rinses away so completely your skin is left fresh, smooth, lovely as ever. Yes, it's the perfect bath soap. Super creamed Swan soap. And now a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. And now, tonight's presentation of radio's outstanding theater of thrills Suspense. Tonight we bring you a transcribed story of a man caught in a mineshaft, trapped by his own conscience. So now, starring Torin Thatcher, here is tonight's suspense play. The Digger. Carlton was not a tall man, not over 5 foot 7. But the attitude of determination he had acquired the day before when he had unexpectedly sighted his quarry, seemed to have added at least a foot to his stature. As a result, he walked through the dirty, narrow streets of the native section that morning without incident. No one blocked his path. No one cursed as he as he Passed by. When he had walked approximately six blocks from the river crossing where he had had to park his car, he turned into a small, open doorway. Nadia. Buona. This is a place they call Winkie's. Boy Medieu. Bono. Where's your head, man? Thank you, Ngobe. Sir? You do not wish to drink here? There are many places better for gentlemen across the river. I didn't come here to drink. What other reason could you have for honoring my establishment, sir? Well, I'm told you rent rooms upstairs. You're a policeman, sir? No, sir. You have been misinformed. Now, please, you go, huh? Then you don't have rooms here? Only two, sir, where my family and close friends may rest. So you would. I suppose he could be a close friend of yours by now. Who, sir? The man I'm looking for. I got a job for him. No one here seek work, sir. Let him tell me. But I am telling you, sir. Now, look. Yesterday afternoon, I caught a glimpse of him in the marketplace. And since then, I've spent quite a bit of money to learn that he's staying here. He's tall, has a bad leg. Are you willing to spend more money, sir? I am. You sit down, sir. Rest yourself in Gobi. Yes, mister. You will see if anyone know the man this gentleman seeks. What is his name, sir? Fabian. Roger Fabian. They used to call him the Digger. Upstairs, in a small, musty room almost directly over Carton's head, Fabian sat on the edge of a narrow cot. He had aged in the past two years. His stomach had soured, and he had grown thin, so that now he scarcely resembled the man once known as the Digger. For several weeks, he had heard that someone was asking questions about him, trying to track him down. And several weeks ago, if he could have paid Winkie what he owed, he would have left his place and gone north. But he never seemed to have enough money. So now he waited, knowing the men would find him wondering what the men wanted. Near Fabian, standing at the window, combing her hair, was a woman about 20. She turned toward the door when Ngobe knocked. Yes? Who is there? N'GOBI what do you want, mister? Say, bwana. Come. Man here to see him. Tell him I'll be. No, now. Tell him to come up here. Well, what's the matter with you? You will have to go away now. Where'd you get an idea like that? You do not eat, and at night when you are sleeping, you cry out, oh, and that means I'll be leaving you. Huh? You have been hiding what you were hiding from has found you now it take you away. Good thing you don't make your money telling fortunes. We'd starve. Carton, what are you doing here? Hello, Digger. Come in, Come in. Yeah, you sit here where it's clean. I'll squat on the floor. Tisha, get us a drink. Say, what would you like? Car? Oh, nothing for me, thanks. Still a bit early. You sure? Yes, quite. Well, if you won't mind, I. Hurry it up. Tisha, you like a cigarette? Oh, very much, thank you. Here, I have a light. You're hard to find, Digger. You're the one that's been looking for me. I'd heard someone was. Mm. Been a long time, hasn't it? Two years. Two years, seven weeks. You haven't forgotten? Could you have? I don't know. It depends on what really happened down there. I told the court of inquiry what really happened. Yes, of course you did. How long you been living here? Long enough, I suppose. You know how it looks. You know how it feels. Oh, I'm sorry, old chap. I didn't mean to. You think I live here by choice? I couldn't get a job after I left the mine. Not a job, anyway. I tried for over a year before I gave up. I'm sorry. Yes, everybody is sorry, including me. Poor old Digger. Had a bit of a rough go, didn't he? Took 30 men down with him. Things got a bit touchy during a cave in and only old Digger makes it back topside. You know the mine was closed right after that. Yes. Should have been closed before it was already worked out. Perhaps not, Digger. They opened it up again. They've what? I received a letter from Sandy MacGregor. You remember him? Sandy? Sure. Now, look. He'd gotten some backing somewhere. Found tracings of another vein, most likely. Well, anyway, he asked me to look you up. He wants you to come back. And seeing you like this, well, naturally, I think you should. No. No, I couldn't. Not to Tabora. What happened wasn't your fault, Mae. I know it, but no one else does. For Sandy Mustry wouldn't have made you a firm offer. How much? 5,000. Five? Why not? There's no other engineer in the union knows that mine as well as you do. No, it like my belly. And you've had experience with the natives up there too. What's that got to do with it? Nothing, really. But. Well, after they cave in, when they decided it'd be too dangerous to recover those bodies, the natives put some. They put some sort of a silly taboo on the mine. 5,000, eh? That's right. Now what do you say, Digger? I say no. Oh, but good heavens, man, you cart and I have nightmares. I see those men trapped down there waiting for me, expecting me to come back. To come back and lead them out. You won't get rid of your dreams in this pesthole, Digger. Believe me, it'll help to go back. And if things don't work out, man you please. Well, it's about time. Where's the drink, mister? Say no more. Without money and what you owe. Well, now, imagine that, Carton and I only. I only owe the few lousy quid. Imagine that. Will you dig a. I purchased a truck for MacGregor. Now, someone's gotta drive it up for him. Now, if you like, I can have it at the river crossing tomorrow morning. I don't know, I. I'll get you out of here. Maybe your last chance. It would be better. What? It would be better for you to go back to this place. Ah, you've been listening. Seems she cares more about you than you do for yourself. Dio buena. It's true. Well, let me have your answer, Diggo. It's been already two weeks since he asked me to find you. Now you won't wait forever. Two weeks? You started looking for me just two weeks ago. Well, that's quite a while to wait. When you're anxious to get into production, I know you won't wait much longer. Now, what do you say? This woman would make a fine fortune teller. You buy me out of here and I'll go. It was normally a pleasant three day trip to Tabora. But for the digger, his liquor supply suddenly cut off. It was a nightmare. Twice he had to stop for several hours while he fought to control his nerves. But by the time he finally reached the floor of the valley that led to Tabora, the worst was over. Late the fourth afternoon, remembering what Carton had said, he swung the truck once wide around the native village. Then a few minutes later, he was driving down the hot, dusty street that separated the four frame buildings of the Tabura mine. Hello? Anybody here? Yes? Sandy. Sandy McGregor. Who is it? It's the digger. Why, what's the matter? Didn't you recognize me? Look now. Of course I did. I just had to wait till I got close up. You haven't changed, Sandy, neither of you. And I'm very glad to see you, Digger. Oh, is that the truck carton Botany? Yes, and she's loaded with supplies. Good. We'll unload it in the mine and it'll give us something to do? Haven't you started working the mine? Well, I can't until I receive the permit. Come along inside. Carton thinks you've found a new vein. So I have. Should go about 600 a ton. I've got some more samples. You. You take a look, See what you think. Your leg been getting you trouble? Oh, no, no. Muscles get tight when I don't use it, that's all. Too bad you didn't get entirely clear that day. But even so, you're a great deal better off than the others who were down there. Yes, yes, yes. Anyone else here with you? The geologist seems to know his job. Oh, here we are. Clark, this is Fabian. Roger Fabian Clark. That's right. I was just about to fix myself a drink. You'll join me, won't you? No, thanks. Oh, come now, Fabian. Surely you're thirsty after your long trip. No, no, I've decided to stay off it for a while. Ah. Think you'll be able to? Why, yes. Why, I've always heard once the stuff's gotten hold of a man, it took real guts to leave it alone. Well, how about you, Sandy? No, not now. I'm going to take another look around for Miggy. Miggy's a nurse recruiting the village digger. He disappeared right after luncheon today. Carton said you were having some trouble with the natives. Nothing to it except threats. They don't want us going down into the mine. Big taboo. I'll be back in a few minutes. So you're the famous Digger. I've heard a lot about you. Oh, from Sandy? No, he scarcely mentioned you. Sure you want to have that drink? Quite sure. Well, you've changed since Joburg. Oh, did we meet there? We had a mutual friend. Trudy Morgan. Remember him? Oh, yes. You've been gone about a month when I checked in. Well, you two like to see your room? It's right across the hall from mine. Doesn't matter if you snore, though. Rats keep me awake most of the night anyway. Rats? Here? The place is overrun with them. And they're hungry, so watch yourself. Well, everything seems to be in order except the lock on this door. Oh, I won't worry about that. I would. Someone might sneak in while you're sleeping and slit your throat. That's not very funny, Clark. It wasn't meant to be. Now, come along. We'd better get your gear in before dark. This all you have? All I brought with me. Hello. I wonder what they're up to. Clark. Digger. Over here. Sandy. You find him? No, he's Gone back to the village. Looks as if I'll have to don the apron tonight. We'll not be eating here. Why not? I went over toward the village. That's no ordinary ceremony they're holding. They're being whipped up into something big. Lots of kula being passed about. For our benefit, perhaps? I'm afraid so. You mean they might come here to attack us? I'm not going to stay to find out where. We go down into the mine. That's the one place they won't dare to come after us. Now, you and Clark go ahead, Digger. I'll get some blankets and things from the house. What about the truck and your supplies? If we don't get out of this alive, we won't need them. Oh, Digger. I wasn't going to tell you this before you got settled, but I think I should now. Yes? I've taken an oath to kill you. What? I intend to do it within the next few days. Unless, of course, the natives do it for me. Well, come along, Digger. You are listening to the Digger. Tonight's presentation on radio's outstanding theater of Thrills, Suspense. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar, is no signature on a valentine. Not that our danger loving insurance investigator is opposed to romance. It's just that the detectives profession calls for a pragmatic approach to life. If he wants to go on living. That's why no matter how lovely a lady may be. And no matter how attracted to her Johnny Dollar may be. Solving the particular case he's working on always takes precedence over sentiment. The case he's working on right now calls for courage as well as caution. And it's a baffling mystery thriller. You'll enjoy following clue by clue as you listen. For yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Monday through Friday evening on most of these same stations. And now we bring back to our Hollywood soundstage. Torren Thatcher starring in tonight's production, the Digger. A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. By taking advantage of the Digger's bad leg. Clark managed to stay several paces in front of him as they walked toward the mine. This prevented Fabian from asking questions and pressing Clark for answers. Clark himself was the big question. The Digger was not entirely convinced that Clark was serious. Yet there was nothing humorous in Clark's threat. Which had been made in an unemotional, completely fatalistic way. He was still undecided when MacGregor caught up with him. Together they reached the hoist and climbed into the cage. The moment before they started down, they saw the natives set fire to the building they had just left. Then they Lowered themselves. And the digger began to remember the nightmares. And remembered this mine was also a tool. Well, this will set us back. Set us back more if they catch us. There's a bottle wrapped in that blanket, Clark. Will you break it out? Yeah. Yes. How. How far are we going down, Sandy? To the lower level. The lower level? That's what I've been working. I've got a spot fixed up back near the cave in. You'll be more comfortable there. Here we are. You look a bit shaky, Digger. Better take some of this. Yes. Yes, all right. Thanks. There. That's more like the old Digger. How about you, Sandy? Go ahead. No, it won't bother me being down there. Well, it couldn't bother any of us, that's all. How about it, Digger? Would it bring back some nasty memories? Why should it? Well, last time you were down, you barely got out alive. You were lucky that day, weren't you, Clark? I'm sorry, Digger. Didn't mean to remind you. You didn't. No, don't imagine I did. Here, you better take another drink. Wash away the ghosts. Well, very doon. You hang on to that bottle, Dick. I help Sandy with the other things. Wait a minute. What is it? I'm not sure. It's smoke. What? It is smoke coming from up top. They're trying to smoke us out. Yeah, well, that'll take a lot of doing. Come on, let's get back where we can restore. They started back then, their graphite lamps lighting the way casting shadows on the stone walls ahead of them. The digger remembered each foot of the level, each beam that supported it and kept the earth from caving in on them. Once he would have remembered them as old friends, but not now. Then they rounded a sharp turn and came upon the fallen tons of shale and loose rock that had caused the death of 30 men. Did you see that, Clark? Yes, what was it? A rat. Filthy little rat. Digger, you'd better go easy on that stuff. Let him alone, Sandy. You let him alone. You're the ones been after him. It's all right, Sandy. Don't you worry about me. Come on. Let me have the bottle, Digger. Yes, yes, sure. Here you are. Thank you. No, sit down. We'll be here all night anyway. Cigarettes, Andy? No, thanks. We'd better not smoke down here, just in case. Whatever you say, Digger. Did you know all the men that were in here that day? No, not all, but most of them, yes. I saw a letter you wrote to the wife of one of them after it happened. I wrote a good many letters. Yes. This woman lived in Suffolk, has two kids at about 11 and 14. Now you know who I mean, Digger. No, I don't know. Well, was she Henry's wife? Yes. I. I wrote to tell her to try explain how it happened and how you managed to get out when no one else did. She believed you. But I didn't. What now? Now, wait a minute, Clark. You wait. I've been looking for him for over six months. I'd almost given up. Why, Clark? Why don't you know? Has your brain rotted that much? What? Can't you remember his last name? No. Henry's last name. He was your friend. No, I don't. You sent his things back to her. I sent them too. No. No, you. You can't be. Clark. Henry Clark. Digger. No, I. You're Henry's brother. That's right. Why did he tell me? It didn't matter to you. Why did you lie to her like that, Digger? I didn't lie. You lied. No, I didn't. Then and at the inquest. Now stop it, Clark. He was cleared at the inquest because there wasn't anyone to testify against him. But there is now. And he's right here, sitting beside me. You remember Trudy, don't you, Dicker? The woman in Joburg. Yes. She told me about you. All about you. You have nightmares. The same one over and over. Trudy told me she was to come into your room when it was at its worst. You'd be yelling. Should have warned them. Why didn't I warn them while you were saying it? To throw your arms and legs about as if you were fighting your way through hell. Now, Clark, even if it is true, why not forget it? I'll forget it when he can sit here on my brother's tomb with a clear conscience without being sick, afraid like he's been since we entered this place. You know what he's afraid of, Sandy? The men buried here. No. Isn't that right, Digger? Isn't that right? Yes. Yes. And you're afraid of them because you ran. You left them behind. You saw the danger signs. You knew it was going to give way. But instead of taking time to warn them, you ran. Isn't that true? Isn't it true? Yes. It's all true. Okay. I, I I've known you a long time, Digger. I, I, I've seen you do things that took more than I had in need. Believe me, I couldn't help it. Cave in's the only thing that I've ever been afraid of in my life. Fire, explosions, gas. Yes, I was afraid of them. But not like a cave in where I'd be crushed to death or die fighting for air. Please, Clark. I couldn't help it. Believe me, I can't. No, no. It's all right, Digger. You speak for yourself, Madriga. Now, Clark, you're not going to keep after him. You want me to shake his hand? Show him the meaning of brotherly love? That it there'll be no harm in it. And a lot of good for both of you. Go to. We may all do just that if they keep on putting smoking here. They sat quietly for a while, waiting. Then, just as MacGregor had feared it would, the smoke reached their level and came rolling down the shaft. And with it running in front of it were all the animals who had made their nests in the abandoned mine. What? What time is it? About 4. It'll be daylight in another hour. The natives will stop, then go home to sleep. Off the cooler. What was that? Did he hear something? I don't know. I thought. Listen. Another rat. Look. Look. There at the turn. There were four of them. Listen to him. They must be coming down here to get away from the smoke up top. Let's take a look out over the cage. Good Lord. Hundreds of them. Keep your lamp on them. They're afraid to light. Sandy, look back there for the cage. More coming in. They're not moving. Come on. We'll get back. We'll go back where we were. Come on. You're going to have us trapped in here. Sandy, we're going to be cut off from the cage. We've got to make a run for it. Take it easy, Clark. Take it easy. Thousand rats out there waiting for us. How are we going to get out? I'm not thinking about that. I'm thinking about keeping alive right where we are. Look. Look. They're moving this way. Sandy. We've got to make a run for it. We can't run. You mean he can't run. I mean we're sticking together. None of us will make it. We'll all die here. Shut up, Clark. We'll make a nice meal for them, for their families and their families. Shut up, Sandy. You two had better go now while there's still a chance. Oh, we'll stay. The air should begin to clear in another hour. How do you know? You don't know for sure. The natives are going to give up. Sandy, your only chance is to try and reach the cage. If you make it and it's clear up top, send the cage back down. I'll Try for it then. If it's not clear up there, it's. It won't make any difference anyhow. Stop talking and let's move. But if we leave you alone digre I will anyway, in a few moments. Go on, Sandy. Go on. There's a shovel over there and I can hold off until you get up top. Listen to him, Sandy. Do what he says. All right, we'll try. Go on, Sandy. Oh, Sandy. Yes? One thing. In case you get through and I don't, there's a woman. I. I'd like her to have my things. Will you send them to Cotton? You'll know where to take them? Yes. Good luck, Negan. A few minutes later, Clark and Sandy McGregor, having fought their way to the cage, reached the top of the mine and stepped out into a clear blue dawn. Then, with an almost automatic gesture, because they had said they would and not because they expected the crippled digger to make it through the rats, they sent the cage back down. Then they waited. How long's it been? Long enough. Yes. Clark. Clark. He made it. He made it. Come on. Help me pull him up. They looked down the shaft, and as the cage neared them, they could see rats clinging to the top of it and through the ropes on each side. Then the cage was clear, and they saw what it carried. No. Oh, my God, no. Look at him. They must have been all over him for a thousand feet. They buried him as the sun rose full above the horizon. A few days later, Sandy wrote another letter to his friend Cotton. The day after, he, carton drove again to the river crossing, parked his car and crossed into the native section before he reached Winkie's, where he was to give the woman a very small package. He had been pushed, cursed and spat upon. Suspense, in which Torren Thatcher starred in tonight's presentation of the Digger. Next week, we bring you a story of a boy who ran from a prophecy but couldn't escape its deadly promise. We call it the strange prophecy of Bertha Abbott. That's next week on suspense. Suspense is directed and transcribed in Hollywood by Anthony Ellis. You have heard the Digger, written by Charles B. Smith especially for suspense. The music was composed and conducted by Leith Stevens. Featured in the cast were Herb Butterfield, Charlie Lung, Ramsay Hill, Stan Jones, Lillian Byeth, and Harley Bear. Now, a public service message from CBS Radio. In this second half of the 20th century, war could happen in a hurry. Nuclear fission and long range bombers have brought America within striking distance. And unless we're on our guard, an aggressor could deliver devastating blows. To help guard America. Enlist in the ground observer corps. Sign up for the Silver Wings. That mean you're doing your share to man our vital aircraft spotter observation posts. Write or telephone your nearest civil defense center and volunteer. This is John Daly in the new Senate building at Rome. Julius Caesar will attend the last session of the senate on this 15th day of his fifth consulship. Caesar had planned to attend, you know, but then for some strange reason he changed his mind and sent word that he would not be present. Some of the senators then sent Decimus Brutus to urge Caesar to come. And apparently his intimate friend and trusted general was able to prevail upon him. A word has just reached us that the master of Rome is on his way here now this Ides of March, accompanied by Brutus. And so the Senate attendants are again facing Caesar's chair in a rather curious spot in front of the statue of Pompey, Caesar's old and dead ancient Rome. You are there. Julius Caesar on the Ides of March, the great Roman conqueror on his way to the Senate. CBS takes you back almost 2,000 years to the day that shook the Roman Empire and and change the course of history. All things are as they were then, except for one thing. When CBS is there, you are there. You are there. Produced and directed by Robert Louis Cheyenne is based on authentic historical fact in quotations. And now the spinner Ancient Rome and John Daly, that important center of the year. Caesar's hesitancy about attending this final session of the Senate is due to the many rumors which are flying thick and fast around Rome. Rumors to the effect that Caesar's enemies, he has a great many hidden ones amongst the patrician upper classes are plotting something to block this new era of popular reform ushered in by Caesar since his return from the wars. Just what they can do to stem this tide of social progress which Caesar has set in motion is difficult to imagine. But here is one imaginative fellow who seems to see things that ordinary people like you and me miss. He is Ateladorus, a soothsayer who also makes a living on the side by teaching logic to some of the wealthier citizens of Rome. Atenodorus, how do you reconcile teaching logic with soothsaying with those who prefer prophecy? I prophesy with those who prefer logic are reasonable. I have found this the most logical way for me to make a living. Sounds logical, but what does your sooth saying say about the rumors that are going around Rome to the effect that Caesar's enemies are plotting against him? Well, I would say that the Ides of March may be a. Well, shall we say a fateful day for Rome. What do you mean by fateful? Oh, nothing, fate certain. Just that there are certain indications. What indications? Well, indications that this will be a very faithful day. But are you trying to say that Caesar is in danger? Oh, no, no, not at all, not at all. You see, it is just that. Well, it is just that it is written in the sands and in the stars that. Well, that even the mightiest among us may suddenly take leave and. Well, all right then, in your sooth saying, mind exactly what name comes to the surface as plotting Caesar. Har. I see a cloud of names. What are they? The cloud is clearing. I see seven letters, a number of C's. Yes, go on. The clouds have returned. I cannot see anything anymore. Peace be unto you. Farewell. Tenadorus has just hurried away. I think he saw someone. Although I'm looking in the direction he looked, and I can see only distinguished senators and several close friends of Caesar's. There's Ligarius and Tilius, Simba Trebonius and Cassius. Cashus is walking over here. He was recently appointed Peter by Caesar. Caesar. Good day, Cassius. Good day. Was that Archimadorus, the SU say? Why, yes, Cashes. Do you know him? I have studied some logic with him, but I found the fellow more given to imagination than reason. And what did he say? Well, he thinks Caesar has a lot of enemies. One needn't be a soothsayer to divine math. Every ruler has an opposition. You're speaking of the optimates, I presume. The patrician ruling class. Not only the optimistic. Many good and loyal citizens of ordinary rank take exception to some of the things that Caesar has done. Oh? I was under the impression that most of the common people of Rome were ardently for Caesar and his policy of reform. I wish they were. But you know, unfortunately, I have heard talk that many Romans are afraid that Caesar might become king. But how could that be? We all know that Caesar has refused the crown several times. Who can say what a ruler with all of Caesar's power will do next? We must always hope for the good of Rome, that men with so much power will not abuse it for their own gain. Thank you, Cassius. Caesar has not arrived yet. Here comes Mark Antony. Perhaps I can get him to say a few words. The proconsul who shares the administration of Rome with Caesar seems to be in fine spirits today. And when Caesar leaves tomorrow to subdue Parthians, Mark Anthony will be temporary ruler of Rome. You know, in Caesar's absence, oh, Mark Anthony, I've been trying to track down a story that there's a plot against Caesar. Oh, that's an old story. People have been plotting against Caesar ever since he was born. He was kidnapped, you know, when he was a boy. Potters. Do you remember? Labianus? Do you remember a Ponty? They all plotted against Caesar, but they're all dead now. But then you do think, Mark Anthony, that there may be some substance to this rule? Oh, no doubt about it. But whoever these plotters may be, let them beware. For all those who plot against my friend Caesar will sooner or later feel the edge of the hungry naked sword of Mark Anthony. He's accompanied by Decimus. Brutus and the senators have risen and are greeting him. Caesar carries his tall, slim figure erectly, as usual in military fashion. His gray eyes are sweeping the senate as he walks. He bows politely to the senators and other high dignitaries. And though his face is kindly, as usual, Caesar is not smiling today. He doesn't appear to be too well. He's outreach. His chair now is sitting down, carefully arranging the folds of his brilliant white purple bordered toga. Many senators and officials are gathered around him. It's Caesar's custom before the session begins, you know, to hear private petitions. Tillius Simba has approached Caesar and is standing directly in front of Caesar now, holding a petition. Simba is speaking. Let's listen. Caesar liberate her. Father of the fatherland. If you have a petition, Julia Simba, I will listen to it with a better mind if you do not employ all those flattering and unnecessary adjectives before my name. What is it you wish? Oh, Caesar, you will always be remembered for your clemency and your forgiveness. You pardoned most of your enemies. Please, oh Caesar, consider my brother now banished from Rome and living in miserable exile in a barbaric land. I have told you before, Achilleus Timber, that I will never pardon your brother. He has not only committed crimes against the state, but also savage crimes against humanity. I do not know how to forgive such evil. Do not beg too hard in his behalf the fact that you think him guiltless and so cover yourself with some of his guilt. But great Peter, you have always been. I will hear no more of your brother. I beg you, please reconsider the case. I have all the facts here in this petition. What does this mean? Caesar die. Senators, an attempt is being made on Caesar's life. Castor has stabbed Caesar. Cash is stabbed too. Caesar is out on hand trying to fight them off. Brutus has stabbed Caesar now and they're all thrusting at him, all the senators around Caesar stabbing in a frenzy. Tillius Cimber, Cassius, Brutus, Castor Ligarius. They're murdering Caesar right before my eyes. Caesar is resisting no longer. He's fallen, is lying in a pool of blood. Brutus and Cassius stand over his body, clasping hands, congratulating each other. And now Brutus is shouting to Cicero, the venerable leader of the Senate. Cicero, see how the tyrant lies dead at Pompey's feet. Rome is free. Liberty is restored. The Constitution is saved. The Senators are running out of the Senate. The men who murdered Caesar are waving their daggers. Rome is free. The tyrant is dead. Liberty is saved. The Senate is emptying rapidly, is dead. The ides of March. It means Rome will be in a turmoil. I return you to our tbs. This is Ned Calbar. The men who killed Ceta call themselves the Tyrannocides. Right now they're staging a torchlight procession along the Via Flaminia. Don Hollenbeck is there in a CBS mobile unit. So over to Don Hollenbeck. This porchlight procession is passing by us now. Many of these paraders are drunk. Some with wine, some with the event and some with coke. The parade is a strange mixture of venerable senators, young, perpendicular dandies, the younger members of the patrician class. But the strangest thing about this parade is that there are no people on the street to watch it. Not a soul pleasant to cheer or throw flowers or wave a hat. One of the leaders of this parade is Tillius Cimber, the senator who gave the signal for the attack on Caesar. He's right here beside me. Tillius. Simba, everything is going to be all right. Romans 3: Every. Everybody is free. There's nothing to fear. Nothing. Perhaps the people of Rome aren't sure what will happen till they assemble. Perhaps that's why they're hiding. There is nothing to fear. The people will still get their free food and their free circuses. Bread and circuses. What else the common people need? Perhaps they want liberty and dignity. Liberty and dignity. That's why we disposed at Caesar. The parade is flossing on down the Via Flaminian hour. Tillius Simber lurching after it, waving his dagger, shouting to a deserted street. This is Don Holland. I return you to our CBS studios. This is Ned Karma again. Cassius Brutus and the other leaders of the Tyrannosides are now meeting with Mark Anthony Cicero is acting as the mediator. This surprising development would seem to indicate that Mark Anthony may make peace with the man who Killed his. There are even rumors that he'll accept a major post in the. In the new government. The. The body of Caesar has been removed from the Senate and taken to his home by his servants. And. And now here is Quincy. How to analyze all these fast moving events? This much seems clear. Mark Anthony hopes to avoid another civil war, even if he has to forget his loyalty to Caesar and make a deal with the murderers. Who by the way, must now decide and decide, decide fast what to do with Caesar's body. That's because it's always been a custom to throw the dead bodies of murdered tyrants into the river Tiber unhones disgraced. But if Caesar's body were thrown into the Tiber, all his laws and appointments would become null and void. And all the men, all the men now meeting with Mark Anthony, except Cicero, all these fellows received their appointments to top government jobs from Caesar himself. Thus, if Caesar's body should be thrown into the Tiber, they'd automatically put themselves out of office. The big question really is no longer Mark Anthony, but the people. What will the people do? They can't stay behind locked doors much longer. Here's Ned Calvert. A statement has just been released by the men at Mark Anthony's house. It says. It says they've decided to give Julius Caesar a public funeral. And that Mark Anthony himself will deliver the funeral oration. Ken Roberts and Caesar's wife Calpurnia are at Caesar's palace on the Tyburnal waiting to talk to us. So over to Ken Roberts. I am speaking to you from the atrium of Caesar's home. Calipernia, Caesar's wife, has just learned that the Tyrannicides will allow a public funeral for her husband. And she has given orders that the body of Caesar be taken now to the forum. Calpurnia, would you care to comment on the decision of the Tyrannicides to allow public flag funeral for your husband? Yes. It is an old Roman custom to invite intimate friends to private funerals. A public funeral does not alter this in any way at all. I know Caesar would want all his friends to be present. Calpurnia, what made Caesar change his mind and attend the Senate? His very close friend, Decimus Brutus. Brutus came and persuaded him because there were urgent and pressing matters in the Senate requiring his personal attention. This was the same deafness. Brutus, whom Caesar loved and trusted, whom he raised from perfumed obscurity to wealth, honor and high position. And all the time he pleaded with Caesar to come, a dagger lay hidden in his toga. And when see the pain. Of all that august and honorable body of senators, not one raised a hand to help. Hirelings, betrayers, puppets for the idol's degenerate patricians. They were all conspirators. It was not Caesar who threatened Rome. It is the 500 families that rule our city. They killed my husband because he sided with the people. Caesar never wanted to be kings. And every one of those murderers knew it. Thank you, Caprenia. This is Ken Robert. I return you to cbs. Quincy. How again? Tolius Cicero has just announced that he will be unable to attend Caesar's funeral. The leader of the Senate said, and I am quoting, the death of Caesar has so affected me that my physician has advised against my attendance. End quote. Just a few words of comment on this statement of Cicero's. Cicero argued for all he was worth against the public funeral. He said it was playing with fire. Especially since Caesar's last will and testament will be read in the forum where the ceremony is about to take place. Now, no one knows what Caesar's will contains, but since Caesar was always generous to the plebeians, there's good reason to believe that his will may contain some surprises which might prove, well, a bit unsettling to the public piece, if you get my grip. This is Quincy Howe. I switch you now to John Daly and the Forum. Never was our country in greater danger. The speaker you hear addressing the crowd here in the Forum is Kus Cashus, one of the leaders of the conspiracy against Caesar. He and other gifted public speakers among the tyrannicides have been haranguing this crowd of more than 50,000 people, trying to make them see the wisdom and necessity of disposing of Caesar. But the crowd listens quietly, very quietly. The big question is still, what's going on in the minds of these 50,000 silent Romans? Cashus has finished speaking. And now Decimus Brutus, the most gifted speaker of all the tyrannicides, has stepped up to the rostrum. He's greeted with respectful silence. This should be interesting. So let's listen. I, Decimus Brutus, was Caesar's closest friend, yet I killed him. I, Decimus Brutus, was his trusted general and confidant, yet I betrayed him. Why then, did I take his life? Was it to enrich myself? The death of Caesar will not make any of us richer. Was it because I bore him a grudge? No one had more cause to love and honor him than I. Why then, did I kill and betray my friends? The answer is, citizens of Rome, that Caesar was a grave Danger to Rome, for Caesar would be king. You cannot help but a king and a republic. Our great nation is a democracy, a magnificent civilization which cannot abide kings or emperors. For then we would be like the barbarians who have not learned how precious and sweet his liberty. O Romans, here in my hand. This is the dagger with which I slew my dear friends. It is still sharp and keen. If I have wronged you, citizens of this free land, if I have wronged you by killing Caesar, then shall I plunge this dagger gladly into my breast. Speak. Citizens of Rome. Most of the big crowd is unmoved and silent. Their attention has turned away from the rostrum to the approach of Caesar's funeral procession. Decimus, briefly speaking again, you have given me your answer. I seek my death. Caesar's funeral procession approaches. By my permission, Mark Anthony will deliver the funeral oration. Stay and listen to him. For you all know that in some respects Caesar did serve his country well. It is fitting that you pay him your last respects. And so farewell, good citizens. We shall meet again on some happier occasion. Brutus has left the rostrum. The funeral procession is in. Inside the forum, now coming to a halt in front of the rostrum itself. Cal Plenia, wearing a shabby toga, as is the custom, and Mark Anthony seem to be the principal mourners. The body of Caesar is being carried on a couch and placed in front of the roster. Six citizens are carrying it. The couch is draped with a white cloth trimmed with purple. And now the music has stopped and the herald steps forward. This citizen, Caius Julius Caesar, has surrendered to death. Mark Anthony will now deliver the funeral oration. My fellow Romans, my countrymen, I need not tell you of Caesar's great and good deeds, as is the manner at funerals. You know them well enough. You remember who forced the optimates, the noble, to give the people a share of the public lands? It was not Cassius. No, not Cassius. It was Caesar, now dead by Cassius hands. Do you remember, citizens of Rome, who passed a law that allowed liberated slaves to become citizens? It was not Simba. No, not Simba. But Caesar, the man he Cimber, so cruelly stabbed. Do you recall, good citizens, who it was the Senate declared to be godlike in his clemency to his enemies? It was not sinner. No, not sinner. But a man sinner, cut down with a hideous dagger. Can you bring to mind my fellow countrymen, who three times refused the offer of a crown? It was not Decimus. Brutus. No, not Brutus. But the man Brutus, so monstrously betraying. Yet all these conspirators have nothing to say about Caesar but that he was ambitious, but he desired to be a king. All they did, they knew. They knew it well that Caesar, now lying fiercely dead before us, never wished to be again. Citizens, I will tell you why they killed him. They killed him because he stood in the way of those corrupt aristocrats upon whom Caesar waged unremitting war all his life. Mark Anthony is nothing legal with. The consul has dropped the mask of collaboration. He's attacking the Tydides with power and passion. And the crowd has suddenly come alive. This is what they've been waiting for. We have a matter of a last will to be read. Caesar's will, and you shall hear it. Now I bid you, herald, step forward and read Caesar's last will and testament. Step forward. The herald steps forward, unrolls a parchment. The crowd is hushed, straining. I ca. Julius Caesar. You declare this to be my will? This will to be executed immediately upon my death. To each citizen of Rome, I hereby allot 75 trackmen my gardens along the Tiber River. No. Long coveted by many envious aristocrats, I bequeath to the people of Rome as a public park. What remains of my park prophecy, I bequeath to Octavius Caesar, my nephew. Should Octavius fail, then I name as my second heir Decimus Brutus. Second back. The herald draws and the crowd is now denouncing Decimus Brutus. All the conspirators is calling for danger. Mark Anthony has stepped up to the body of Caesar. He ripped the covering off the body. And the mutilated body of Caesar now lies exposed as cleansing. Here lies the father of your country. Here lies the hero of Crones. Here lies our beloved comrades and friend. Here he is lifeless. Although the Senate had sworn to protect him with their lives. Here he lies dead. Dead not by disease or age or war, but killed by his own countrymen. O Caesar, those whom you spared and showed mercy and kindness, they have spilt your life away. Where? Where, Caesar, is your lovely heart, mankind? Where? Where now strange and noble laws you you'd pass for the common people. Caesar. Stand up. Stand up and let the public see you. You cannot. For you are murdered. Murdered by the very same people you saved. O citizens of Rome, our father, our comrade, by his quiet and still and forever dead Roman. Let us not proceed to the campus martyrs for the funeral pyre. Let us have the funeral pyre here and now in the quorum upon our fallen leader no greater defiance can we give to the conspirators at Caesar's fire and hunt down and burn until the conspirators. The crowd rolls its approval and the funeral music has started again. The tyrannicites have failed. Their bent for power is over. Even in death Caesar has conjured. An execution of exile awaits the conspirators flaming clutches are being applied to the last of the eyes of 44 USD. Julius Caesar is assassinated and the course of history is changed. You have been listening to the Assassination of Julius Caesar, another broadcast in the series you Are There, produced and directed by Robert Louis Cheyenne. The Assassination of Julius Caesar was written by Sigmund Milling. Mark Antony was played by Torin Thatcher, and the cast included Thomas Chalmers, Raymond Edward Johnson, Wesley Addy, David Oric, Richard Waring, Anne Seymour, Guy Sorel, Bert Palin and others. Next week, June 30, 1520, Mexico City. The Death of Montezuma. You are there. Broadway is My Beat, says detective Danny Clover. And today Danny's going to explore the strange actions of an out of work Broadway actor engaged to an heiress who was a friend of Danny's. Broadway Is My Beat will come to you later this afternoon on most of these same CBS network stations. This is CBS, where 99 million people gather every week. The Columbia Broadcasting System CBS Radio presents the CBS Radio Workshop, dedicated to man's imagination, the theater of the mind. Today the workshop offers an unusual departure in radio drama. A free adaptation of 14th century Japanese theater, based on Arthur Whaley's translations of the classic no Plays of Japan, adapted by Harvey Marlowe, music composed and conducted by the noted Japanese composer Takshindo. There is a rock which stands at the gates of the shrine on the highest peak of Mount Katsuragi. On this rock is written, whosoever of all mortal men, whether he be king or slave, if he turn his heart to me, I will send a light to lead him and guide him on his way. I am Lord Hojo no Tokiori, ruler of all Japan. But today my heart is heavy. The prayers at the temple are of no avail against the illness that has overtaken my wife, mother to the heir to my throne. Perhaps a pilgrimage to Mount Katsuragi will serve her better than all these prayers here at the temple. So he arranged with the temple priests for a pilgrimage to begin on the morrow. Clad in the holy habit of the priests, with only his honored short sword strapped to his side, he want to take leave of his wife. I have come to say goodbye, for I am soon starting on a ritual mountain Climbing. God be with you. I have heard that it is a dangerous ritual. Shall you take our son with you? It is not a journey that a young child could make. Well, I pray you will come back safely. And I will pray for your good health. I must go now. My Lord, I have something to say. What is it? I would go with you to the mountains. No. No. How could you leave your mother when she is not well? It is because my mother is ill that I would go with you to pray for her. My dear wife. Your son says he would come with us. What is to be done? Ishiwaka Maru. When your father leaves, I will have none but you at my side. I have not had you out of mind or sight for as long a time as it takes a dew drop to dry. Give me back the measure of my love. Let your love keep you with me. This is all as you say. Yet nothing shall move me from my purpose. I must climb this difficult path and pray for your health in this life. They saw no plea could move him. And so they set out, fourscore or more. Priests, pilgrims, the ruler of all Japan and his son. The way was rough and torturous, the elements showing no respect for the pilgrims nor the ruler of all Japan. For the winds howled and the thunder rolled down from the mountains. The rain and the sleet wetted them so that they were all a shiver. And then the hail the size of hen's eggs smote them. And they all cowered in the shelter of the rocks. And Lord Hojo no Tokiore, noticing his son faltering more than the rest, ordered the pilgrims to halt and take shelter. We have climbed so fast. We are already near the summit. We will stay here and rest for a while, my lord. We gladly obey. Father, I have something to say. What is it, my son? I do not feel well. Quiet, my son. Let not the priests hear you talk so lest the spirits of the mountain take offense at our coming. Perhaps you are merely tired because you are not used to climbing. Lie there and rest. But the boy was not merely tired from climbing. He was deathly ill. And soon the color ebbed from his face. His complexion was as the coloration of the rocks around him. The priests and the pilgrims grew restless. And as they grew restless, they grew fearful. They muttered amongst themselves and they commissioned the priest to speak strongly to Lord Ho. Chino. Tokiomi. The pilgrims are saying that your son is indisposed. He is not feeling well, but there is nothing wrong with him. He is only tired with climbing. So you are not troubled about You? No. He will arise refreshed and ready to resume the climb in the morning. But the pilgrims would not readily accept this reassurance. All night they burnt incense and chanted the scriptures. In the morning they gathered around the child, and they saw that he was no better. Again they grew restless and then fearful, and they muttered among themselves. And again they commissioned the priest to speak with oh, Master, ruler of all Japan. Last night you said this boy was only tired from climbing, but now he is looking very strange. Oh, I say it with dread. There has been from ancient times a custom that those who fail in this climb should be cast down. All the pilgrims are saying that he should be thrown into the valley. Would you hurl this innocent child into the valley? It is the custom of the God. Of course it is a mighty custom. I cannot gainsay it. Then the pilgrims, sighing for the sad ways of the world and the bitter ordinances of it, made ready for the hurling foot to foot. They stood together, and Tokiori too amongst them, heaving blindly, none guiltier than his neighbor. The the piercing cry of the falling boy, emblazoned deep in the mind of Tokiyori, echoed again and again from mountaintop to mountaintop, from pilgrim heart to pilgrim hut. Like a madman he stood there and had to be restrained lest he leap after the falling boy. And the winds howled and the thunderbolt rolled down from the mountaintops. With anguished face raised high to the gods above, he vowed to forsake all worldly goods and to dedicate himself to eternal earthly wanderings until his flesh became spirit and merged with the like of his son. He unbuckled his honored shortsword and flung it far into the valley to rest forever beside his son. And then, as a lowly priest, he set out on his lonely wanderings and would brook no one addressing him as Lord Tokiori. And soon no one any longer knew him as Lord Tokiori, ruler of all Japan. Four years pass. Four years of wandering. Four years of not forgetting. Four years later, he again found himself in the valley at the foot of Mount Katsuragi Hara. It is snowing again. I must seek shelter. Here. The curtain of snow parted, and there, not many feet from where he stood, lay a windswept excuse for a house. He knocked and called, is there anyone in this house? Who is there? I am a pilgrim. Pray let me lodge here for the night. That is a small thing to ask, but we have no lodging pit for you. We cannot receive. No, no. I do not care how poor poor the lodging may be. Pray let me Stay for this one night. We would gladly ask you to stay, but there is scarcely space for us that are husband and wife. And a boy whom I call son. You had best be on your way before the daylight goeth. So you are resolved to turn me away? I am sorry for it, but we cannot shelter you. Peace be with you. I will go my way. Alas, it is because in a former life we neglected the ordinances that we are now come to ruin. Please let him stay. You are of that mind. Why did you not speak before holy man? We will give you lodging, though mean the shelter rest with us till day. Gladly he took shelter with them and shared with them their food. But, alas, he also shared with them the cold, for twas no warmer in the hut and without. And the cold wind from the woods blows sleep away, and the dreams of recollection. And on the morrow, with the gray of dawn, as he had made ready to take his leave, he said, there is something I must ask. I would gladly know to what clan my host belongs. Indeed, I have no reason to conceal it. Know then, that Tsoneogen Diamond, Lord of Sarno, has sunk to this. How came it, sir, that you fell to such misery? Thus it was. Kinsmen usurped my lands, and so I became what I am. Why do you not go up to the capital and lay your case before the Shiken's court? By further mischance, it happens that Lord Hojo no Tokiori himself is absent upon pilgrimage. Lo, these past four years. And yet all is not lost. For on the wall a tall spear still hangs, and armor with it, while in a stall a steed is tied. And if at any time there came word from the city news of peril to our master, then, broken though it be, I would gird this armor on, and rusty though it be, I would hold tall this spear and lean, Rivered though he be, I would mount my horse and ride, neck my neck with the swiftest. But alas, another fate awaits me. Worn with hunger to die, useless. Take courage. You shall not end so. If I live, I will come to you again. Now I must go. Then take this boy. I call my son to guide and protect you on your way. Yes, I am strangely drawn to him. He is like my own son, had he lived. You have good cause to be proud of him, as much as if he were of my own flesh. Four years ago we found him wandering in the valley. Neither he nor we knowing whence he came from, nor how strapped to his side was this honored sword. And then Tokiyori knew that his pilgrimage was over, and he embraced the boy. But he did not reveal himself. But Mele said he would be glad to have him as guide and protector. And he turned to Cneo and his wife. Though my longing bides with you, you leave us. Farewell. You have made me happier than you know. Come back to us soon. He said no more. He went his way. He said to leave them and they to lose them from their sight. They traveled many roads together, prayed at many temples, and read the scriptures together. And a bond grew between them, such as father and son. But still he did not reveal himself. Daily he versed him in the science of state, in the expression of poetry, in the arts of battle. He taught him the overhead slash the 10 side, cut the eight sides, sweep the body, wheel the hand you turn the flower double the blade, drop the maple leaf double. And the gnashing lion. He taught him to be nimble on his feet, but never to retreat. And then the winds abated, the snows melted and the rains came. And soon the cherry trees were in full blossom. They had traveled hard, and they traveled fast. And then, weary with travel, they came to the inn of Akasaka, in the country of Mino. Welcome, O holy priest. You grace my house with your presence. And you too, noble young prince. We thank you for your hospitality. But I am no prince. Oh, merely a pilgrim in company of this holy priest. Oh, be that as it may, you're doubly welcome. While my good wife prepares some hot food. Food for your stomach, do come and meet my other lodges and. And listen to the sweet voice of Tono I. She's renowned to all of Mino. Pleased to meet Kichiji and Kichiroku, merchants of Mino. I'm sure they will pleasure your presence on the journey tomorrow. You are many times welcome, for this area is infested with robber bands who prey on merchants such as us. We cannot hope to outnumber them. But perhaps they will not impede our journey. If we travel together with a holy man and so stall out a young protector. We join you gladly. This sword that serves this holy man shall serve you as well. Then join with us in some food and wine. It seems the geisha girl would approach us. Come closer, girl. What would you say? I have words of warning for you. Then speak without fear. We listen readily. Be on your guard, gentlemen, for the outlaw Kumaske has got wind of your coming and the gold you carry, and has sworn to set his brigands upon you tonight. All is now lost. What are we to do? How can we defend ourselves against the hordes of Kumasaka? Let them come in what force they will. Yet if one stout soldier go out to meet them, they will not stand their ground. Though they be 50 armed men. What can one mere stripling do against so many? Perhaps we can trade them our gold for our lives. Nay, you shall walk over many dead bodies ere you have to give up your gold or your lives. Holy man, give me your blessing ere I go. Go, my son. Go with God. And remember well the lessons I have taught you. And know this too, ere you go. Four years ago my son was lost to me. But the gods were kind. I found him again in Tsuneo's house. The boy embraced his father and then turned to the others. Now arm yourselves as best you can and wait here. I will go out to meet them. And while he spoke, evening passed to darkness. He found himself a place where only three or four could pass abreast and waited. The night was still no sound but the crickets and the quick breathing of the boy. The moon was bright and cast many fearsome shadows around him. But neither evil spirits nor evil men could chill the heart of little Ushiwakamaru, son of Lord Hojo no Tokiori, ruler of all Japan. And then a wave of sound, of horses and men roared in. They rushed, each jostling to be first to cut down the stripling. More of them and more in a wild onslaught. Not even the God of Peril had dared to face them. But little Ushiwakamaru showed no fear. He drew his belt sword and met them. The lion, the tiger leap. The bird pounce. He carried them all. The body wheel. The Hanyu turn, the flower double. But they could not prevail. 30 there were who attacked him. Now 13 lay there who were dead and others wounded, flung down their swords and swunk back, weaponless, to report to Kumasaka. And then Kumasaka cried, what demon of God can he be under whose hand all these are fallen? For a man he cannot be. Shall Kumasaki Choan be worsted in tonight's afraid? Where could he then hide his shame? If he be but spirit covered with flesh, I will cut him asunder or die with my men. Come, robbers, to the attack. So with mighty voice he called them to him, and they, raising their war cry, leapt up. Renew the assault. Fast as the wind they rolled, none daring to overtake the mighty Kumasaga, lest they be the first to meet the lightning thrust of Ushiwakamaru's blade. And suddenly there he stood, waiting. So tiny he appeared against the tall mound of slain bodies, yet so unperturbed he seemed. Kumasaka's heart was chilled with the sight. But he measured by eye Ushiwakamaru's two foot blade against his five and a half foot sword. And he thought, be he mortal or hobgoblin, demon or God, tonight's battle will be fought in hell. And he forced wild laughter from his throat to ward off the chill on his heart and perchance to frighten the boy. But none of his men joined him. All stood silently by. Slowly they merged in their circle of battle, each waiting for the other to spring. Warily they circled. Cautiously they moved. And so they fought. Now closing, now breaking again and again. Kumasaka strikes. Again and again his blows are parried. And then Kumasaka, deeply versed in the art of the battle sword, lunged with his left foot. And in quick succession he executed the 10 side cuts, the eight side sweep the body wheel the hanukk, turn the flower double, and Ishiwakamaru count with the blade, drop the gnashing line, the maple leaf double, and the bird box thus a thousand thousand bots they fought, neither wearied ever strong. And then Gomosaka, losing patience, throw down his battle sword and spreading out his great hands, rushed wildly forward, dodged him as he passed, mowed around at his legs. Kumasaka fell with a crash, and as he struggled to rise, the belt sword of Ushiwakamaru smote him clean through the waist. And Kumasaka, that had been one man, lay cloven in twain. Then Ushiwakamaru, mounting Kumasaka's steed, made his way back to the inn. Lord Hojo no Toka Yori, overjoyed at the safe return of his son and his miraculous accomplishments, had this to say. Now that I have a son to share my throne with honor and serve my people with integrity, I would return to my wife and to the affairs of state. When the pale moon fades from this night sky, we will pursue our way toward the capital. That very morning they set out on their way and reach the capital without further mishap. And there was great celebrating and rejoicing awaiting them. There were fireworks and cannon, parades, entertainments and pageantry, feasting and much spilling of wine. The temple bells tolled for the safe return of the ruler and the young prince. And heeding their call, the ruler, his wife and the young prince forsook the revelries of the populace and spent two days fasting and praying to the great God of Conflict. And when they returned from their meditations, he issued a proclamation. This public notice is hereby posted. If there be those amongst you who would challenge my return to rule this land of sunrise, then mass your armies and declare your aims. Or if you be of a mind to serve your ruler loyally and true, then come in full regalia and receive my blessing and my love. They came from far and near, Barons and dukes, lords and masters, chamberlains and chancellors, samurai and soldiers, goons and priests, farmers and merchants, fishermen and sailors, free men and slaves. They came on horses fat with fodder on rickshaws, rickety and worn in carriages, resplendent in clothes raggedy in torn. And along with them rides Suneo, haggard and one. The horse is old, it cannot hasten. Neither whip nor spur can urge it on. His armor is dented, worn and dusty. His spear is tall, corroded and rusty. But he moves like a man dedicated to serve his ruler, his country, with determination and nerve. Many a road was traveled, many a day had set to rest, until all were assembled in the great courtyard of the palace, and the ruler called to his attendant. Have the samurai, the lords and nobles all arrived. Yes, my lord. They have all come. Among them should be a knight in broken armor, carrying a rusty sword and leading his own lean horse. Find him and bring him to me. I tremble and obey, your majesty. He ran without catching his breath, and amongst the richly clad nobles he had no trouble finding Suneo. He was led to where on a great dais, all the warriors of this levy were assembled. Like a bright bevy of stone, row on row they were ranged, samurai and soldiers, nobles and lords, bejeweled and resplendent. Swift, scornful glances, fingers pointed, and the noise of laughter met his entering. His rusty sword sags and trails, yet undaunted, he kneels at the foot of the throne, where sits Tokiori and the young prince. Silence. My lord, I have come. He has come indeed. Tsuneyu, Lord of Sano. Have you forgotten the priest whom once you sheltered from the snowstorm? And the boy you once called Sun? My lord, I am overwhelmed. You have been true to the words that you spoke. Now I shall be true to mine. Now all ye hear this. In the case of Tsuneo, I return to him his land, his title and his deeds, and add to this my eternal gratitude and devotion. Then Tsuneo2 bowed low before the ruler of all Japan. Embrace the young prince, the one he once called sun. And then, broken though it was, he gird his armor on. And rusty though it was, he held straight his spear and bony though it was, he mounted his steed and went proudly his homeward way. You've been listening to a frequent adaptation of early Japanese theater written by Harvey Marlowe. Featured in today's cast were William Conrad, John Dehner, Hans Conrey, Virginia Gregg, Mary Flynn, Ben Wright, Joe Desantis, Torren Thatcher, Henry Blair, David Frankham, and Yoshiko Niya. Authentic court music by the Tenrikyo Kyokai Musicians Choral Group from the Japanese Union Church of Los Angeles. Original music composed and conducted by Takshindo. CBS Radio Workshop was produced and directed by Harvey Marlowe. This is the CBS Radio Network. We just heard Torin Thatcher in the Digger, You Are There and the CBS Radio Workshop that will do it for this week's show. Thanks so much for joining me. I hope you'll be back next week for more Old Time Radio thrillers starring some of the biggest names in Hollywood history. In the meantime, you can check out down these Mean Streets, my Old Time Radio Detective podcast. New episodes of that show are out every Sunday. If you like what you're hearing, don't be a stranger. You can rate and return view the show on Apple Podcasts or wherever you listen. And if you'd like to lend support to the show, you can visit buymeacoffee.com meansts OTR now. Good night until next time, when I'll be back with another Hollywood legend and more tales well calculated to keep you in. Ladies and gentlemen, the chief hope of our enemies is to divide the United States along racial and religious lines and thereby conquer us. Let's not spread prejudice. A divided America is a weak America. Through our behavior, we encourage the respect of our children and make them better neighbors to all races and religions. Remind them that being good neighbors has helped make our country great and kept her free. Thank you.