Curtain Call

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 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, Kirtenkaw. Somehow standing there at the bar, glass in hand, Martin Elliott found himself thinking that even his wife Julia had her good points. He looked across the room of the restaurant at her, sitting there alone, and in a strange wave of generosity, almost forgave her for the wedding he had to go through.

The honeymoon he had to smile through. The two years of marriage he had to live through afterward. Yes, it had paid off now. He was no longer Martin Elliott, a hopeful juvenile, standing hat in hand in front of the desks of assorted Broadway producers.

Oh, not now. All afternoon the casual remark he dropped during lunch at Brunelles had been hustling around the Broadway hangouts like a genie, sitting at a hundred tables leaning on a thousand bars between noon and six. Until now, as he stood in the pleasant gloom of Raymon, he was at long last. Important.