Smart Boy

And now stay tuned for the Mystery Program that is unique among all Mystery Programs. Because even when you know who is guilty, you always receive a startling surprise at the final curtain. In the Signal Oil Program, the Whistler.

Signal, the famous Go Father Gasly, invites you to sit back and enjoy another strange story by the Whistler. I am the Whistler, and I know many things, or 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. And now for the signal oil company, the Whistler's strange story. Smart boy! Carle Maxson sat waiting in the paneled outer office of Marty Randall Enterprises.

The room was tastefully done, expensively furnished. At the lone desk in the far end of the room sat a tasteful expensive secretary, a harmonious addition to the rest of the furnishing. She looked up, smiled at Carl, and nodded toward the door, marked Marty Randall Private.

He returned to smile, got up, and walked into the private office, closing the door behind him. The small, squat man at the desk, Marty Randall, looked up as Carl entered, Stared at him with bland gray eyes for a minute before he said.

Got the money. Right here, money. I just toss it on the table. Then Grand. 2500 from Pete Baywood. 7,005 from Kila. Want to call it? I don't have to. You say it's 10 grand? It's 10 grand.

Thanks. I like guys I can trust Carl. Remember that? Have any trouble? Baywood moaned a little. So what'd you do? Let him moan? Good. He likes to complain, doesn't mean anything. That's what I figured.