Till Death Do Us Part

And now stay tuned for the Mystery Program that is unique among all Mystery Programs. Because even when you know who's guilty, you always receive a startling surprise at the final curtain. In the Whistler. And I know many 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 Whistler, rated by independent research, the most popular West Coast program in radio history.

In the Whistler's strange story, till death do us part. Roy Layton's letters in the Chief Boarding House were anything but inviting. And from where he sat on the edge of the sagging brass-postered bed, Roy's view of the outside world was a dismal one.

The assortment of unopened bills and collection notices in the nearby wastebasket held their grim message to. They told him that he'd have to be moving on soon. Change his address, the one that he wanted, but had given up hoping for, wasn't there.

Never would be, he reasoned. And the knock on the door, rousing him from his mental fumblings, could mean only one thing. The landlady and her oft-repeated demand. I'm back again, Mr. Later. The Asculine for all, do you have the rent money?

I know, I know. You know that the minute I hear from my uncle... You're the only man that for months now. The minute you hear from your uncle Martin in Mexico. Well, I'm tired of that too.

I'm tired of hearing of an uncle that for all I know might not even exist. A real dog? I'm sorry about the rent. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going out to get a breath of air. Good night Mrs. Bazakili. I'd appreciate it if you'd fix the latch while I'm out. I'll fix the latch. Oh well it's just that's what I'll do.