The Box Of Death

The Anchor Hocking Glass Corporation brings you crime photographer. Sayethalbert, what's today's date? It's the 17th, Casey. How do you know? Because tomorrow's the 18th, it's a famous day. What do you mean a famous day?

Which the anniversary of the famous ride of Paul Revere? Did I hear somebody say famous? Why, I was just going to talk about something famous. Is that so? Sure! Anchor Hocking, the most famous name in glass.

Good evening ladies and gentlemen, this is Tony Marvin. Every week at this time, the anchor-hocking glass corporation of Lancaster, Ohio and its more than 10,000 employees bring you another adventure of Casey crime photographer, Ace Cameron Mann, who covers the crime news of a great city.

Written by Alonso Dinkoel, our adventure for tonight, Box of Death. Here o'clock in the morning, a darkened street deserted, except for a uniformed policeman languidly making his lonely round. In the middle of the sidewalk he sees a large wooden packing-case.

He stops, reads a stenciled inscription on it, and then angrily enters an apartment building and rings a doorbell marked, superintendent. Is that you at the door, Fred? This is a policeman. Polismen. Yes, open up.

Just a minute. What is it, officer? Mrs. George Donald live here. What? I'm Mrs. Donald. You haven't brought me bad news. I'm giving you a summons for blocking the sidewalk with that big box out there.

Big box? A wooden packing case. Someone will break his neck on it. But I don't know anything about a wooden box. It's got your name on it. Come and see. Okay. You know, for a moment I was afraid you were here about my husband.