Two Hundred and Twenty-Seven Minutes of Hate

Suss fans and the producer of radios outstanding theater of thrills the master of mystery and adventure William and Robeson They say there's a thin line between love and hate and if it's true that it's love that makes the world go round Perhaps hate could bring it to a standstill It's been tried with rather tedious frequency for the past several thousand years and if the haters keep at it

They may finally make it unless as in the upcoming play I love once more triumphs. Listen then, as Charles McGraw stars in 227 minutes of hate, a tail well calculated to keep you in. You look at the calendar hanging on the wall, and you wonder if it's you or the day that makes it look

so uninspiring, and you decide it's the calendar. They just aren't making good calendars anymore. You score them around in your chair and take a look at the clock. 11.44. 1144 of a Friday morning that shouldn't have happened.

It's that doe. You swing back to your desk and pick up the phone. Detective Jural, Lieutenant McDougall speaking. Hello, Tom. This is... Yes, Mr. Rand, what can we do for you? Well... I see. But what?

Now, look, Mr. Rand, we take reports on stolen articles here, cars, things like that, but a stolen airplane. I know there isn't much anyone can do about a stolen... Well, that figures. The man who's flying it can't fly.

Well, in that case you have nothing to... What? I... On a just a minute, Mr. Rand. Suppose we begin at the beginning. Well, this guy, he goofs around the field all the time. One of those hanger pliers.