The Wait

for Spence. And the producer of radio's Outstanding Theatre of Thrills, the Master of Mystery and Adventure, William N. Robeson. As Mark Antony said, we are all, all honorable men. And most of us live out our lives of quiet desperation, believing this to be so, since we are never called upon to put our honor to the test.

But faced with the ultimate alternative, How many of us would proudly choose death rather than dishonor? What is one man's honor may well be another man's expediency. Upon such imponderables is our story of suspense built.

It takes place in an aimless country at a time which could be yesterday or today or tomorrow. But the questions it raises can be answered only by each one of us secretly and to himself alone.

Listen, listen then, as Miss Maria Palmer stars in the weight, which begins in just a moment. And now, well calculated to keep you in. Someday I'll grenade you. But not tonight, sir.

Well, that would be the last of them. Hey, no, someone's running from the house. Or finish him. You other stand watch? Come up, let's check them off. Give me the list. This one would be the kid, Jornan.

Three eyes don't look well on anyone. Shame he was so young. He's old now. I check off the name Jornan. Yes, that's the finish of it. They'll see. Wooten. The watchman where their arms are concealed, their truck driver, a girl.

She must be inside. Well, look. My grenade did well. Not well enough, where's the girl? Yes. It is not the last. There is still you. There is still me. But how did you... My Griney?