Death Walks a Tightwire

Let every go signal remind you that you do go farther with signal gasoline the signal oil program The signal oil company and your neighborhood signal dealer bring you another curious story by the Whistler tonight death walks a tight wire and I know many things where I walk by night I know many strange tales, many secrets hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadows.

Presently I'll tell you of the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. But first, Signal Oil Company has an urgent message from your government. It's really a message from about 11 million friends of yours in uniform.

If they could take time out tonight from the smoke and hail of battle, They'd say to you, it takes more than our hands alone to fight japs and Nazis face to face. It takes guns and tanks and ships and planes.

And it takes your bombs to buy them. Yes, we know how expensive war is. A lot of us in uniform are giving what will never get back. An arm, a leg, a life. But you will get back the money you put into bonds with good interest.

So back us up, buy another bond, the biggest one you can. By keeping the weapons flowing to us on the fighting front, you're helping us get the war over the earliest possible minute. And in this bloody business, minutes mean lives.

Now, the Whistler. The corrosive emotion of hatred seeks its effect in strange places. For instance, you'd think there would be no place for it among the spangled, the gayety of the big top, where heavily painted faces where perpetual smiles, and the band is raucous in its four-four happiness.