The Girl in the Powder Blue Jag

And now, another tale well calculated to keep you in... ...spence. The girl in the powder blue jag, written for suspense by Walter Black. I saw so much dirt in my life. The more I sweep it, the more I stir up.

Oh, that's the trouble with these summer places. And the time you get them clean, it's time to shut up and lick. Oh, darn. Be right there. I said I was coming. Now, what's up? What's the matter, Miss?

Can I come in? Well, sure. What happened yet? An accident or something? Well, I cracked up my card. Just down the road. There's a big wall in the beach wall. Yeah. I guess I must have been going too fast.

The next thing I knew, I'd hit it. I must have blacked out for a minute. You got a family doctor you want me to call? I don't know. What? I don't even know who I am.

How's the bed, hon? Oh, thank you. Now you call me Claire. Everybody else does. Claire, that's better. The man at the police station said he'd bring a doctor with him. I feel so lost.

Not even knowing my own name. But you do. It's Kendall Endicott. Kind of a nice, out-of-the-ordinary name too. But how do I know it's mine? A checkbook with a name printed on it? I could have stolen it.

You're not the type, hon. What type am I? I don't know anything about myself. Well, take it from me, hon. You're just not the type. Besides that, uh, curry would drive, and that's a Jaguar.

You know, by those for cigarette coupons, uh... But incidentally, you're lucky. All you need is a new front grill. Oh, thank goodness. That must be the police. Now, no more worrying, hon. We'll find out all about you now.