Personal notice, changes my stock and trade. If the job's too tough for you to handle,
you got a job for me, George Valentine. Write full details.
Greetings, mystery lover. Have another helping of homicide on the half-shell.
I let George do an adventure as a real killer to coin a phrase, which I didn't. Anyway,
it's called tag your it, which believe me has nothing to do with Junior trying to catch the
little girl next door. On the contrary, it deals with an officious master of ceremonies
of an audience participation program. Now this fellow was an eager little beaver who
got along on poking fun at people until one day someone took a poke at him. Then even George
Valentine couldn't help. Well, here's a lady with a letter. Yes, sir. She's got one right here in
her purse. Give me that. Give it back. No, no, no, lady. Wait a minute. Here's your letter. Now
what's the matter? Don't you want me to read it? Oh, you wrote this. That's it. You wrote it and
haven't mailed it. You probably batted the postman. He only rang once. Oh, ladies, listen to this.
Listen, my dear Mr. Valentine, Valentine. What do you think? Don't blush, lady. Don't blush. If
our radio audience can only see her. Her, I said, not me. But madam, if I'm brave enough to wear
your scarf over my head, it's really a good fit. Don't you think? Don't you think it is? Over the
face. What do you say? It's not a fit. It's a convulsion. Oh, you're real cute. How about your
husband, madam? Huh? You suppose he's listening? I'll bet he doesn't know about this, Mr. Valentine.
Ladies, isn't that a romantic name for you? Valentine. I'll bet your husband's out buying
a gun right now. He's got a rival. But you remember our bargain now, lady, on this program. You dared
me to wear your scarf so I can read anything I find in your purse. Shall I read it, ladies?
Yeah. All right. That's right. All right, ladies, here goes. Now, dear Mr. Valentine,
I've got to see you about a telephone call. A telephone call, huh? Well, let's make her do
the call right here from the studio, shall we? All right, ladies, but here's the rest of the letter.
Listen, I've got to see you because I'm not sure, but I think somebody is trying to murder me.
Murder? Trying to murder? Mr. McMurtry, all I wanted to tell you was that it isn't my letter.
It's not my purse. A large woman, she got up and left in a hurry. She must have taken mine. It's
her letter. Mrs. Oscar Pettyman, 432 West 16th Street.
You are listening to Let George Do It. Our adventure will continue in just a moment.
Now back to Let George Do It and George Valentine.
All right, all right, I'm coming. What do you want? Mrs. Oscar Pettyman, this is 432 West.
Ain't here. You her husband friend, Mr. Pettyman? He's in Chicago, can't stand her. Leaves every
chance he can get. Ansel Pettyman's my name, her brother-in-law. I bored here. Well, Mr. Pettyman...
Yes, the police phoned me, miss, and no, I don't know anything. You hung up on him. Well, why not?
Bunch of pests. Anybody tries to kill Bertie, it wouldn't hurt anybody. Why should they care?
Well, you're a nice guy. Puzzles, contest prizes. Yeah, you ought to see what she looks like. Well,
what do you mean? Bertie's as big as a horse. My dear sister-in-law. So she started to write
you letters. Think somebody's trying to kill her. All right, what's all the fuss? Let them. Yeah,
there's a time waste and contravention. Now, wait a minute, I'll answer that. I asked somebody to call
me here. Valentine speaking. Hal McMurtry, Mr. Valentine. Now, listen... Did you find her?
There are cops all over the studio. I want you to understand, though, that I didn't know who you
were when I read that letter. Did you find her? No, not exactly, not yet. But believe me, we're
turning the place upside down. Now, about that game I play on my program. Oh, give me that phone.
Give it to me. Well, look, I want to explain... Hey, what's going on? What's going on? McMurtry.
This is Holman speaking, F.J. Holman. What? Who? What? I'm the studio manager, Mr. Valentine. And,
as I told the police, we'll do everything possible. I've warned McMurtry before about that silly game
he plays with those women. They were wearing their scarves and then trying to embarrass them by
trying into their purses. Well, they love it. You know they love it. Be quiet. Be quiet.
I just wanted you to understand, Mr. Valentine. Yeah, sure, Mr. Holman, sure. Nobody's going to sue
anybody. Skip it. But you can ask Ansel there. He's been our janitor here at the radio station,
you know. He's what? No, I didn't know anything about him. That birdie, Pattyman,
she's the sort of a person any number of people might want to kill. She's a pest, you understand?
A pest. A professional radio contestant who's forever snooping around here. And sooner or
later she'll be back. You see, that's what I mean. You don't need to worry. She's an unpleasant woman
that lots of people... Oh, Talented McMurtry, I'm busy. A bunch of characters work at that place.
Including you, huh? Of course. 20 years, never a day sick. How else do you think my sister-in-law
get all the broadcast tickets I get them for? Keep her away out of my brother's hair. Look,
I just want facts. Never mind the double talk like that Holman gives out because he's scared his
radio station will get involved. Hello from Tag. You're it. You're wealthy. What?
Huh? Letter she started said something about a phone call didn't it? That's right. And when
the police ask you about it... Trying to remember. Only a phone call I know anything about happened
yesterday when I was home for lunch. Birdie stepped out to look up something for a newspaper
contest. Voice says, hello from Tag. You're it. You're wealthy. What? I'm not fooling. That's the
kind of crazy stuff goes on around here. No greeting, no nothing. I remember every word.
If you look in your mail today, you'll find you're a winner. We hope you enjoy your award.
And that's all? Look in your mail, hope you enjoy your award. It happens all the time.
She don't do anything for a living except that. Puzzles, contests, coupons are always ringing up,
delivering things. You ought to see her stuff. She's got five vacuum cleaners in this house
and she doesn't use one of them. What was in it the mail? What was the award that they...
Search me friend. I wasn't here. I work for a living. Okay, okay. Hey, uh,
Brooksy, phone Riley. Get him to check the mailman. So, uh, so you don't like your sister-in-law, huh?
Nobody seems to. Doesn't do anything. I know. I know. Yeah. Nut on contests. Well, sometimes I
like contests myself, but I suppose it's a little different if that's all she does. Always trying
to get something good. Well, that's not the point. The idea is she was worried, wrote to me. It is
the point. How worried could Birdie be if she went gallivanting off to a radio studio to have fun
before she mailed your letter? Well, I'll grant you that it's... I don't take it seriously because
neither did she. Murder. It's just another idea to waste time with. You ask me, she's not some place
enough. Forget all about it. Wait a minute. Tell me, what kind of a voice was that on the phone,
that tag you read? Man or woman? Man, I guess. I don't know. It licked. It what? Licked. Like this.
Soft voice. Barely heard. Lieutenant Riley? Well, this is Claire Brook. Oh, wait a minute. Here. Let
me have an angel. Hello, Riley. Listen, Valentine, we haven't found that pettyman dame yet,
but we just put out a bigger alarm on her because... Riley, look. Now, wait a minute. A quick angle.
Her husband's out of town, so he doesn't like her. Yesterday she got a phone call and later on some
kind of package in the mail. Wait, wait, wait. Hey, are you trying to choose my brother? I already got
in touch with her husband. He's in Chicago. He's got nothing to do with it. Oh, Riley, everybody
seems to think this is just a false alarm. She's just some kind of a crackpot. I want to... All
right, maybe so, but if there's one chance in 50 of our preventing a real murder... I said wait,
will you? It's already happened. Huh? I'm busy, I told you, with a blonde. And I don't mean Mrs.
Pettyman. The exact opposite. Beautiful, young, real diamond. Riley, for the love of heavens,
will you? My boys will keep on helping you look for Mrs. Pettyman, all right, but don't bother me.
This one's a real case, my friend. This blonde, see? And the only clue I've got to go on is a note
in her purse which says, tag, you're it. You're wealthy. Ha! She's wealthy, all right. She's dead.
How long ago did the doctor say, Lieutenant? Oh, it happened the first thing this morning.
The traffic officer found her body in the car packed up an alley. Girl was shot, huh? Yeah,
that's right. Nobody would have noticed it for hours. The best place in the world,
right in the middle of town, an alley in Commercial District. But, oh brother, how you get a connection
between Mrs. Pettyman and something like this? Maybe you don't, Riley. This girl certainly lived
in a fancy apartment house. That's what I mean. What was she doing in the Commercial District?
Yeah, three a.m. to the left, I guess. What's she doing with a note in her purse that says the same
thing? Huh? Yeah, there we are. It's Dorothy Cheever, huh? I got the house made. She can never stop crying.
Oh, Lieutenant, she was such a lovely person. Such a lovely person. George, she really did do all right, didn't she?
Yeah. Yeah, you can say that again. Simply no one, I can't understand it. She was so powerful.
I'll bet the bald-headed guy in that photograph isn't her father.
No, no, she was alone, I think, so well. I think so lovely.
Yes, yes. Well, so you said, well now take hold of yourself, see?
She's done so well. I'm sorry, lady, I'm sorry, but here, here, take a look at this.
Tag, you're it. You're wealthy. Yeah, that's right. We found this note in Miss Cheever's purse.
Now, the handwriting doesn't check with the signature on the driver's license.
Well, of course not. It's mine. I wrote it. Oh? Well, then you better start drying your eyes,
lady, and explain what in the name of heaven... I wrote that note for her so she'd remember.
That's all, after the phone call. The phone call? Oh, no, no, not the same...
Go on, please, go on. Well, I... There was this phone call,
first thing after breakfast. I was in to clean up. A voice says, Tag, you're it. You're wealthy.
What else? Well, an address. I took the message for Miss Cheever.
An address of what? I'm trying to tell you. It said she
should drive a car and park a car in that alley. It's the back entrance of Benson's first store.
Hey, wait a minute, wait a minute. Sure it is, and it's the most expensive place in town.
Yeah, sure, go on. The voice says she's picked for a
chance at a mink coat. You know, one of them giveaways or something. I guess they take your
name from a phone book. Well, of course, she went right away. Wouldn't you, Miss? A chance
at a real mink coat, huh? Free? Just cause you're lucky and your name's been picked for...
For... Hey, tell me, what kind of a voice was it?
It's list. It was, hello from Tag, you're it. You're wealthy. So like that. Miss Dorothy Cheever
has been selected for a chance at... Some crackpot. Some absolute nut. Sergeant,
get hold of whoever runs that program and the radio station.
You haven't heard the worst of it, Riley. Go ahead, tell them, Brooksie. Tell them what kind
of a case he's got. What kind of a connection there is between Mrs. Peddiman and this.
Well, we already did call the radio stations, Lieutenant. And the newspaper contest editors,
all of them. There isn't any such thing as Tag, you're it, you're wealthy. They've never even
heard of it. Oh, brother. Well, that does it. You mean Mrs. Peddiman will turn up dead too,
huh? And anybody who's tagged will jump for it, just like the poor girl here did.
Oh, my friends, we're up against a phony giveaway. Somebody just calling people up and giving away
dead.
You are listening to Let George Do It. Our adventure will continue in just a moment.
And now back to George Valentine. Yes, Tag, you're it, you're wealthy. And the listening
voice on the telephone really means that you've been selected for death. A fictitious giveaway,
a contest, and you are the winner. At least that's what happened to Miss Dorothy Cheever.
She went to collect on a chance at a mink and was shot. And earlier, a message came from Mrs. Oscar
Peddiman promising a prize in the mail. No sooner had she written her fear to you than she disappeared.
Well, if your name is George Valentine, you'll have to agree with Lieutenant Riley as back at
the radio station, he puts it so mildly. An absolute madman is calling up everybody,
taking anybody's name from the phone book. And we'll never find Mrs. Peddiman. She'll probably
walk into something just like the blonde did, like everybody else. Hey, wait a minute, Liz.
Hey, the lisp. So it wouldn't happen again, huh? It's from this way, something. Yeah, come on in
here. All right, whoever you are, put up your hand. Hey, hey, what goes on? Who are you? You
were whispering just a second ago. Why don't you ring the bell or not? Uh oh, the law. Stand still,
I said. All right, I'll take it easy. I didn't do anything. Here. Hello from Tag. You're it.
You're... See, just a gadget. I like gadgets. I hate the work. Oh, I'm Russell, Johnny Russell,
night engineer. That was a record, you mean? What you got? A telephone. I'm too lazy to answer.
I'm out of the room for a minute. Telephone rings, goes on the tape. Listen.
Hello from Tag. You're it. You're wealthy, Mr. Russell. You have won. Your name has been
selected. If you will just stay in your office wherever you are, your prize will come to you.
We wish you happiness as a winner in our contest. See, came on my telephone a few minutes ago, I
guess, Mr. Valentine. I stepped out for a second. Tape machine rigged, picked it up.
So I'm tapped. So it's me. Don't you have any idea who it could be? Look, detective, I'm a lazy guy.
I don't like old women and dogs, but I don't want anybody who wants to kill me for it. So
just hand me my coat there, friend. I'm on my way. Tell the boss and McMurtry... Oh, no, no,
you don't. Wait a minute. Ouch. Hey, let go. There we are, smiling the boy drop dead. You don't
think I'm going to stick around here, do you? We'll find out what happens. I'll stay right with you,
pal. And wait for my prize to come. I'm not that curious. I'm going to put as many miles between me
and this place as I... Then you get a bodyguard. Sergeant. All the same by me. Oh, well,
get in there. Get in the sergeant. Stay here, Angel. Well, McMurtry. Holy smoke. It could be me next or
you or just anybody. No, no, it couldn't. See, it's quite a place Russell has here, isn't it?
All these gadgets, pinups, hot plate for coffee and this picture. George. The blonde. Yeah, Dorothy
Cheever. Russell ran around with her once in a while. Yeah, it all starts to tie together.
Not the way I figured, but... Well, she used to work here, you know. Oh, no, we didn't. Well,
if you could call it that, she's not the working type, if you know what I mean. I took her out once
or twice myself, but she's too rich for my blood. Just what do you mean? Well, don't misunderstand,
but you know, ambitious. She wouldn't turn down at Duesenberg if you offered it to her,
out for the best she could get, you know, but that certainly wasn't Johnny here. No, no, she liked
men with more money, like FJH. What, George? Initials on the picture of the other guy. Ball
headed one back at her place, remember? Well, I wanted to see if FJ Holman is bald. Hey, now,
look here, friend, the boss is all right. Sure he dated Dorothy, so what? It's him, sure, but there's
no love triangle. Hey, Valentine! George. Yeah, hold it. Come on.
Busman's holiday, my friend. In a radio station, what do they listen to?
Other radio stations. Don't you understand? We found my sister, Loft.
Bertie's all right. She ain't even halfway dead. Listen to her.
Well, I don't see anything to laugh at. Well, I don't, I answered the question right.
Back to the microphone, please, Mrs. Sparrow. Oh, excuse me, but I'm gonna get a prize, ain't I?
I mean, oh my goodness, I'm so embarrassed. Yeah, told you what she's like, might have known it.
Ran out in McMurkery's program this afternoon, because she remembered she had tickets to this one.
She was just telling them over there. Well, we'll have her under protection too, Valentine.
Told the audience her cat was sick. They laughed. Don't blame them. Piece of candy Bertie got in the mail yesterday.
What? What is all this? I'm so confused. Well, apparently Mrs. Pettyman got a box of candy.
That's what the package in the mail was yesterday, the award, the Lisper Center.
But anyway, she's out of danger now, like Russell is. Hey Riley, take a look at Johnny Russell there.
What?
I'm... I'm...
My arm... I can't move. Get him to the hospital. Come on, lift him. Come on, step on it.
As fast as we can, sir. George's coat. That's what it was. He said ouch when he put it on, remember?
Let me see that. Yeah, you see that needle there hooked in the lining? You put it on, it's out.
You put on your coat, you get a scratch that you don't even notice.
Oh brother, how fast you have to work in this three ring circus to keep people alive.
Mr. Holman's not in his office, Mr. Valentine.
Oh, well never mind. Where are you going, Ansel?
I work for a living, what do you think? Instruction boxes, sweep studio B. Well, janitors are...
All right, all right, all right.
George, I don't understand.
Well, take him one at a time, Bruxy. Mrs. Pettyman got her call first.
In some kind of murder attempt through the mail, candy or whatever it was.
The whole case got thrown in the open fast because her letter was read right out on the air for everybody to hear.
But in the meantime, Dorothy Cheever got her call and had been killed, then Johnny Russell.
You see, Angel of Murder was working against time, making mistakes because it was really going too fast for him too.
George, they're tied together though. I mean, the blonde...
Well, they've all been around here in the studio, sure.
The blonde, Johnny Russell, even Mrs. Pettyman, always snooping around trying to get free broadcast tickets, remember?
Who's going to be next? I mean, what's the pattern? A killer like that doesn't stop.
Hold it. What's the matter, Ansel?
I just happen to think Studio B isn't being used tonight.
It's a spare down in the basement with the reserve switchboard.
Why? Supposed to sweep it out for a broadcast, you said.
The note told me to do it. It was in the instruction box.
Just a type note. Only now it's not there.
Ansel, you're the janitor. You see everything that goes on around here.
Logically, you'd be the next person that...
Hey, Brooksie, get Riley back here. I'm going to be the next person.
What? Yeah, stay up here, Ansel. I'll take a look at Studio B for you.
Record storage, music library, phone booths... Here we are.
Hmm, it's a pretty good sized studio. What the...
All right, come on now. Turn them on. Turn the lights on.
Come on now. There's a master board around here someplace...
What's the matter? Can't you see?
Look, it's too late to play games, friend. Put your lip back in shape.
Where am I? Yes, where am I? You can't tell in the dark, can you? Where am I?
Oh, now look for the love. Music stands set up for an orchestra. Did you hurt yourself?
I don't care as much as you're going to be, friend. Come on, come on. Tell me. I know where you are.
You haven't moved, so you're still somewhere by the big control switchboard.
Mr. Valance said... Look, now I won't hurt you. Yeah, I'm on your side.
In fact, I'm almost done. Hey, let go of that gun.
Get away from those switches.
The wrong switch, Mr. Valentine.
Oh, what a madhouse. No, no, you don't. Get away.
I'll get the lights. Get over there.
And I still have the gun.
Well, well, well. Hello, Ansel. You couldn't shoot me in the dark, could you?
You guessed who I was.
I wasn't a guestbuster. You made a mistake. But skip that part of it.
I'm on your side. Forget it.
Of course you're on my side. But I was fired, you guessed that.
Fired? After 20 years of service?
Holman said I should rest, but I work for a living. I'm not like the others.
Yeah, I know. The girl who was out for everything she could get without working for it.
Johnny Russell, he's that type too. And Bertie, always looking for a free prize someplace.
Stop looking past my shoulder. I'm not going to turn around.
Yes, you were the worst. And I work. And I get fucked.
Are you going to kill Holman too, the boss?
Lots of people I'm going to kill. Parasites who toil not.
Sure. Upstairs you pulled that gag to get me down here.
It was going too fast for you, wasn't it? Holman was out and you had to have time for him.
You understand, don't you? You're in the way.
Now look, Ansel, you know this is all in your imagination.
Those people you tried to kill are all right. Holman's all right. I know too much, but I'm not so bad either.
Shut up!
Why don't you lisp like you did in the phone calls? That was your mistake, you know.
I don't make mistakes.
You're the first one who told me about the lisp. And you pretended you'd taken the first call from that voice.
You said you remembered every word. Hello from Tag. You're rich, you're wealthy.
If you look in the mail today, you'll find you're a winner. We hope you enjoy your award.
Friend in an entire message does not a single S for anybody to lisp on.
For the last time, look at me! Now! And look at the gun!
You can't fool me. There's no one behind me. I locked that door when I followed you in here.
What difference does it make what I say? I work! I've worked all my life!
Every penny I've made, I've made because I've worked!
Oh, sure, that's right, friend. This is a radio.
I'm gonna kill you and no one will ever know that it was me!
No one's ever gonna know. Why? Let me tell you just one thing, mister.
It's just what I've been staring at. One of those switches we hit.
Maybe lots of people will know about you, friend.
Mr. Valentine.
Now you listen to me. Now I don't know what it means. You can tell me.
But right behind you, back there over the door, there's a big red sign that's all lit up.
Yeah, look at it. In great big red letters it says, on the air.
What? No, no, this studio is...
That's all, sucker!
The End
Back to the conclusion of our Let George Do An Adventure in just a moment.
Restrains Mr. Holman told to that. He saved enough money. He didn't need the job.
I wouldn't try to explain him.
Of course, I never paid much attention to him.
We know you were busy all the time doing... well, doing...
Well, doing what Ansel didn't like.
I beg your pardon. There's nothing wrong with contests, is there?
With a bit of skill and a bit of luck?
Oh, no, no, we just meant to...
You can't tell me there's anything to any of those ideas he had.
A madman like that, a man who'd kill people, who'd try to...
Oh, no, I like puzzles myself. You're perfectly right.
Now, there's no excuse for him. He's locked up where he should have been long ago.
Well, I just wondered, that's all.
Because, you see, I just heard about another contest.
They're going to give away the most beautiful prizes.
And it ain't really getting something for nothing either.
Of course, it's a mystery quiz.
And I thought if you'd give me some help, Mr. Valentine, I might even...
That's all, good see this is where we came in.
Good night, Bertie. We're going to a movie.
Yes, George, to the Tivoli.
Why the Tivoli?
We're giving away a set of dishes.
Oh.
You have just heard Tag, You're It, another Let George Do It adventure.
Robert Bailey was starred as George Valentine with Virginia Gregg as Bruxy.
David Victor and Jackson Gillis wrote the story with music by Eddie Dunstetter.
Now, this is yours truly inviting you to another visit with Valentine.
When you will again hear what happens when you Let George Do It.
Let's go.