Beirut by Sunrise

Good evening. May I present my wife, Kathy. Good evening, and thank you for the very nice letters and telegrams commenting on our opening show last week. Tonight, the new year being somewhat established, we're going to present a spy story.

It's called, They Root, by Sunrise, and it was written for us by a very fine new radio writer, Richard Chandley. My name in the play is Mildred Gideon. And I'm Frank Grady. The background of our opening scene, the Mediterranean Sea.

A ship is moving easily through the winter waters, sailing away from Beirut, Lebanon. Aborred our travelers, of all types, all nationalities. The one of particular interests to us at the moment is a young lady, American, single.

Her name is Mildred Gideon, and as we start our play, she's in her cabin, writing a letter. Darling, sister. As I told you last, this Mediterranean cruise just hasn't been what I expected. We've sailed from Beirut, but I'm still shaking.

After yesterday, honestly, I was positive I'd never see this good old ship again. It's hard to believe my trip to the Near East began as disappointingly as it did. That first stop at Port Said was dreadful.

Not that I thought there'd be perfume nights, but I was hoping I'd feel a little of the... Well, the mystery of it all. When we left for Beirut, the only stimulating thing was the new dinner companion of our table, a Mr. Haroon.

At least he looked interesting compared to that awfully dull, Frank Grady, I've been forced to sit alone with until now. Frank Grady, Mr. Haroon. Mr. Grady? This is Miss Gideon, Mildred Gideon. How do you do?