Death Wears a White Robe

Signal. Signal gasoline. Yes, signal is the new gasoline you can prove is superior. The Signal Oil Company and your neighborhood signal dealer bring you another curious story by the Whistler. Tonight, death wears a white robe.

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.

The cabin high on the slope of Bald Mountain had always been an important part of the marriage of Sam and Leah Wicksen. A successful marriage on the surface. Only two people had any reason to think otherwise.

One was Leah herself and the other was her best friend Suzanne. Leah and Sam had met at the cabin. Their romance had begun there. And one bright day in late winter, some five years afterwards, Suzanne had come to the conclusion it should properly end there.

Mia could feel something coming when Suzanne engineered the invitation for herself and her husband Harvey for the week. Yes, Leah, you wonder what's behind those innocent eyes of Suzanne. What's making the wheels wear in that sharp little mind, is you and she and Sam approach their cabin.

I give his a crust on the snow today. Never make it otherwise. At least no shoes are fun. Suzanne Darling, you let Sam carry that suitcase. Well, he's already carrying yours and his. I'm not crippled.

He has an idea, Leah. On what? I ought to win men and influence them. Well, if I were a strong, rangy type, I'd carry one for you dear. You know I'm not ethnic. Well, a strong, rangy type definitely has her points.