What Makes a Murderer

Signal gasoline! Let every traffic signal remind you, you do go farther with signal gasoline! Yes, you do go farther with signals! The Signal Oil Company and your neighborhood signal dealer bring you another curious story by the Whistler.

Tonight, what makes a murderer? I am the Whistler, and I know many things, but I walk by night. I know many strange tales hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadow.

Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not see. Murder is a peculiar affair. All it needs in many cases is the right pressure, the right set of circumstances, the right opportunities, and an otherwise respectable member of the community becomes a killer.

If you tried to explain that to Arthur Winslow, he wouldn't have understood. If you told him he was in a fair way to become a murderer in a few months, he would have looked at you strangely.

For Arthur was respectable, solid. Exactly like a hundred thousand other respectable, solid, Jersey commuters. His life was a pretty drab affair. Part of it was the office. Jay Simmons and company, and Kirkman broke it.

Firelight, seven and an eighth, no change. Seven and an eighth, no change. American tell and tell, one, seventy-nine, an eighth, awful, an eighth. 18 and T, 179 and an eight. Off and eight. American tobacco 77 up one.

77 up one. Better leave it there, Arthur. Five o'clock. Gotta make that 519. Why? Mm-hmm. Why do we have to make the 519 Stanley? Why? Why Arthur? Because we always do. Why is that a good reason?

What? I mean, do you think because we've always made the 519 that we ought to keep on making it the rest of our lives, It's something wrong, I think. Maybe I don't know. I've been thinking Stanley.