Paul Grays Missing Wife Bernard Beckwith

The big story. Hello, Jennifer. Rollinsville, still waiting. Thank you. Go ahead, Mr. Beckwith, there's your office. Night desk? Beckwith. Oh, yeah, pretty well, yeah. Rollinsville, back on the hills. Listen, in the middle drawer of the desk, you'll find an envelope marked hold.

Yeah? Yeah, I got it. Good. Open it, read it. The story I've been working up on my own time. What the heck? Listen, there are only two phone lines into Denfiness Town. One is being held open for the police.

The other I am holding starting right now. If this comes through, it'll be exclusive. I'll start reading that story. I'll hang on here. Any questions as you go ask me. OK, OK. What are you waiting for up there?

The end of the story. If it comes, it'll be murder. Denver, Colorado. From the pages of the Denver Post, the story of a reporter who sought up a telephone line to lock up a killer.

Denver, Colorado, the story as it actually happened, Bernard Beckwith's story as he lived it. This one you, Bernie Beckwith, reporter for the Denver Post, have been peacing together on your own time. And now it's ready to pop.

You're holed up in the one long telephone exchange of Rollinsville waiting. You've sewed up the only remaining trunk line into Denver. Just in case the opposition gets wind of the story and tries by phone to cash in on your work.

But the operators got something to say about that. Mr. Pitt, I can't hold a line open for you unless you actually use it. Anybody's got the whole story in the office operator. I'm just waiting till the police come back.