Fateful Friday

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 before I walk by night. I know many strains Tails 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 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's strange story. Fateful Friday. Friday May 16th seemed like any one of the 512 Fridays Mr. Brown had spent as an employee of Crandall and Ames, certified public account. With a morning ride to his office on the crowded subway, deadly hours over an adding machine, interrupted only by the usual cheese on rye and glass of milk in the company

cafeteria. The ride down from the 40th floor of the Crandall building in the crowded elevator at three minutes past five after his work was over and the usual Friday remarks to his fellow employees. Night Brown. Night George have a nice weekend.

St. Theo. See you Monday Frank. Yeah another day another dollar. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Say hello to your family. And as usual on Friday is Mr. Brown. You weave through the crowd in the lobby to the door of the gourmet.