Fading Star

and 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 shadow. Yes. I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak.

And now the Whistler's strange story, fading stars. At 43, Don Cauff knew his popularity as a romantic motion picture star was waiting. Then he was on the way out. He knew that he must do something, something spectacular, ensuring national publicity and the sympathetic reaction by the public.

So you decide on marriage, don't you, Don? Marriage to lovely young Dalsy Winslow, whom you're certain will soon be a top star. You're equally certain that marriage to Dalsy will be a great boon to your box office value.

You decide to begin your campaign immediately to spend the next four weeks in romantic courtship. She's already found that you were grateful to you. You helped her to her first part. You reduced her to the right people.

And now, enjoying a leisurely breakfast in your own apartment. You smile as you recall her affectionate attitude of the evening before. When you took her to dinner to celebrate the final day of shooting of her first big part in a major picture.

You're still smiling as you enjoy your final sip of coffee. Hello? Don? Don't see darling. I've just finished breakfast. I just got a couple of minutes between some publicity shots, but I forgot to tell you something last night.

Really? What? Jack Webb's just throwing a party for the whole cast this evening in the commissary. He told me to be sure and ask you to come. Well, I wasn't in the cast. I know. But Jack wants you to come anyway. So do I.