Ambassador of Death

The Signal Oil Program? The Whistler. That whistle is your signal for the Signal Oil Program? The Whistler. I am the Whistler. And I know many strange things, for I walk by night.

I know many strange tales hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadows. Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. Yes friends, it's time for the Signal Oil program, the Whistler, rated by independent research the most popular West Coast program in radio history.

And Signal gasoline is tops too, tops in quality. It takes extra quality, you know, to give you extra mileage. And Signal is the famous Go Father gasoline. So look for the Signal Circle sign in yellow and black that identifies friendly dealer-owned Signal Service stations from Canada to Mexico.

And now the Whistler Strange story. Ambassador of Death. The majority of the guests in Mrs. Helena for sight, elegant drawing room, looked upon the party for what it was. A highly important marker in the Washington social season.

Her guest list was virtually a who's who of the government elite, of foreign dignitaries and the syndicated columnists who recorded their comings and goings. But to Gerald Sanders, consular officer in the diplomatic service, it was even more than this.

Mrs. Worsight was charming. She was a widow, and her influence extended well beyond social affairs. Sanders, I've been looking for you. Oh, Mrs. Worsight, I was about to pay my respects. You forgive me, Mr. Sanders, but you know when you came in this evening it started me reminiscing.

Oh, how so? We're old friends as well as old timers in a way. You've been in the diplomatic service for 20 years now, haven't you? 20 years, two months and eight days. Positive? Positive. I've held almost every job on the books, you know.