Two Lives of Colby Fletcher

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 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 are. 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 top two, tops in quality. It takes extra quality, you know, to give you extra mileage. And Signal is the famous go-farther gasoline. So look for the Signal Circle sign in yellow and black that identifies friendly dealer-owned signal service station from Canada to Mexico.

And now the chisler strange story. The two lives of Colby Fletcher. There was a white fury inside the man at the wheel of the Black Sedan, feeding down the deserted highway from Port Rialto toward Eate River.

The tight grip on the wheel made Colby Fletcher's arms ache with the teeth. He stared blankly at the white center line of the highway, unreeling under the glare of his headlights. Then he saw him, a man walking ahead on the right shoulder of the road.

There was no pausing to consider, no arguing with himself. The decision was automatic and instantaneous. He glanced quickly in the rearview mirror. There was no one behind him. He pulled lightly on the wheel, angled the car off on the shoulder.

Father and father. A man was close now. He gripped the wheel tighter. His foot went down on the accelerator. I'll have to finish him over the tire iron. When I put that door in, I thought, oh, car.