WEBVTT

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Personal notice, danger is my stock and trade. If the job is too tough for you to handle,

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you got a job for me, George Valentine. Write full details. Standard Oil Company of California

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invites you to let George do it. In just a moment we'll begin tonight's adventure of

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George Valentine. Say, did you forget a Christmas present for your car? One of the nicest gifts

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I know is a complete changeover to new RPM motor oil, the oil that doubles engine life

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between major overhauls due to lubrication. Don't forget to replace the filter element

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too. You'll be giving yourself a gift of smoother driving and top engine protection all year

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round by getting new RPM motor oil at independent Chevron gas stations or standard stations

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where they say and mean, we take better care of your car. And now tonight's story here

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the last payoff, another adventure of George Valentine.

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Hey, who did this? What in the...

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The whole room is torn apart. Why? Who? What are they trying to do to me? What's that

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guy's name again? Vada Valdez Valentine. That's it, George Valentine. Okay, okay, Bartel,

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stop shaking. So somebody ransacked your place here. And yet you say nothing was taken. Yeah,

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that's right, Ms. Brooks. Well? Well, don't you understand? It's why did anybody take

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this place apart? What are they trying to do to me? What do you mean do to you? I can't

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afford any trouble. I'm an ex-con. Oh, a little matter you forgot to mention when you wrote

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to me, eh, Buster? Yeah, I forgot. Isn't that terrible? I figured I'm entitled to get a

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little help like any other human being. Wasn't that a lot of nerve for me to think that? Okay,

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skip the dramatics. What were you in jail for? I stole a car. Got drunk and stole a car.

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It was my second offense. Spent 18 months in the pen. So I figured I'd find me a small

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town somewhere and make a new start. Why this particular small town, Lenfield? Because I

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knew someone here. Someone I thought might give me a hand. Clear that up, will you? Man,

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my wife and I met in Chicago. That's where I come from. Big fat guy, nice, good connections.

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John Logan. We hit it off fine. Said if I ever needed help, I should look him up. I suppose

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your wife is here with you. You suppose wrong, lady. She left me flat while I was in jail.

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She's someplace in Europe on the chorus line of a girlie show. Ruthie is the loyal kind.

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Oh, I make a big mystery of all this. A sneak thief got in here, you surprised him, he knocked

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you out and ran. No, that's not the answer, Valentine. Somebody was looking for something

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special. Looked in every little place. Even went through my pockets when I was dead to

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the world. Ripped open the lining of my jacket. Here, look. See? The only thing I own that's

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worth anything is this wristwatch. It's a good one. But the guy didn't take it, did he?

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No, it was no sneak thief. But who else could it be? And why? I don't suppose your landlady

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noticed any strange men prowling around here. No. As I figure it, whoever it was climbed

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in through the window. Hey, tell me. How long has it been raining hard like this? Hmm?

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Oh, a couple of days now. This time of the year, it always rains in this place, they

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tell me. What are you driving at, George? Those footprints near the window. You're pretty

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small, Bartell. That's what I meant. Those aren't my footprints. Must be the man who

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ransacked my room. Some kind of red clay. Must have been somewhere where there's red clay.

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That's not too much to go on. No. Say, Bartell, suppose you tell me about this Mr. Logan, the

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good Samaritan turned sour. Well, it isn't really like that. I just haven't been able

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to get a hold of him yet. I spoke to Mrs. Logan a couple of times. She said she'd give

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him a message. Do you think he has anything to do with any of this? He seems to be the

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only one you know here in Mudfield. That's what's driving me batty. I don't know why

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anybody should be interested in anything I might have. Tell me, do you think Mr. Logan

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might be home now? I don't know. I saw him this morning. You did? Yeah, I was on a bus

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and it passes the back of his house. I noticed Mr. Logan burning something in the incinerator

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in his backyard. So I thought here's my chance to talk to him. Yeah, go on. Well, by the

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time I got off the bus, Mr. Logan was gone. I asked his wife where he went and she said

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downtown. I went to his office, figuring I'd just barge in and get to see him once and

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for all. But he wasn't there. And the girl said she didn't know where he might be. The

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elusive Mr. Logan. I know all this sounds mixed up and not too important, Valentine,

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but it's important to me. I've got to know what's going on. I want to go straight. I

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don't want any trouble. I don't have much money, but I'll pay what I can for you to help me.

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All right, Bartell, you got me curious. You stay here. Maybe I can find out something.

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No, no, Mr. Ballantine. Mr. Reese and I are quite through talking. Oh, Mrs. Logan, I

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could wait in the next room. No, no, it's all right, young man. Mrs. Logan is right.

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Talking doesn't do much good. You will convey my message to Mr. Logan, won't you? Of course.

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Although, frankly, I don't understand it. He'll understand. That's the important thing.

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And I know he'll listen to you very carefully. Really? Oh, you might also tell him I'm a

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patient man. Very patient. But my patience is wearing thin. I'll tell him. I know he'll

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understand that. Good day. No, no, no, no, I'll let myself out. No. Where were we before

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we were interrupted by Mr. Reese? You assured me you didn't know a thing about that client

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of mine, Mr. Bartell. That's right. And I certainly didn't know a thing about his wife,

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his young, pretty wife, as I gather now. So that's that, I guess. Surely, Mr. Ballantine,

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if you really want to know about Mr. Bartell, our local police will help you. Our sheriff

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is a very efficient man. As a matter of fact, my assistant, Miss Brooks, is checking that

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angle. I asked her to call me back here, if you don't mind. Not at all. You have no idea

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where Mr. Logan might be right now. Oh, yes. He's out buying a raincoat. A raincoat?

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Well, he was simply soaked when he got to the office this morning, so I told him I wasn't

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going to have him come down with a cold or worse. So he's out buying a raincoat. I see.

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Would you like a cup of tea, Mr. Ballantine, if you're going to wait? No, thanks. Don't

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worry. I'm afraid I'm a very poor hostess, but I have been rather upset. Really? I know

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it can't possibly matter to you, but Mr. Logan has been so, well, not himself lately,

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so nervous. I know it's ridiculous because money is no problem with us, but now he seems

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to be worried about owing people money. People like Mr. Reese. This is one time he won't

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listen to me, talk to me about it. Perhaps I could help. I'm sorry. Tell you what, maybe

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we will have that cup of tea. It might cheer up both of us. And this constant rain might

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be good to have a cup of... Excuse me. Hello? Hello. May I speak to Mr. Ballantine, please?

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This is Claire Brooks. Of course. Just a minute. It's for you, Mr. Ballantine. Oh, thanks.

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Yeah, Brooksie, did you find anything about our friend Bartell? No, George. I'm afraid

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the police are in too much of a dither to be much help. Dither? What are you talking

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about? Most of them are down at the only place in town where there's clay. What? That's right,

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red clay. And George, there's been a murder there. The car's parked right over there,

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George. I didn't want to talk in front of Mrs. Logan, but tell me more about the murder.

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Who is the victim? Police don't know yet. A weasel-faced little man who was seen coming

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here to Linfield every month or so for almost a year. Yeah. Very interesting thing, George.

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There were some footprints leading away from the clay pits, large footprints. Oh, a ransacking

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friend maybe, huh? Could be. Oh, there was something else. Oh, what? Some woman walking

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in the street a couple of hundred yards away from the clay pits was scared by a man hurrying

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away from there. A big fat man in a dark blue raincoat, she said. Or at least, that's what

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a boy who runs a service station not far from there reported. Uh-huh. Come on, come on.

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Come on where? This way. But that goes to the Logan's backyard, George. I'm playing a long,

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long shot, Angel. Careful of the puddles. Bartell told us he saw Mr. Logan burning something in

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the incinerator this morning, didn't he? Well, yes. And Logan is a big man, and his wife told me he's

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buying a new raincoat this morning. But what happened to his old one? Oh, there's the incinerator

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over there. Yeah, now wait. Now here's some kind of a poke in it. Yeah, this'll do. You see anything,

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George? Everything pretty well burned to ashes. Everything's seen. What is it? Oh, it's a piece of

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metal. Belt buckle. Still covered with some cloth, blue cloth. That's it, all right. Logan burned his

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dark blue raincoat. George, I thought you wanted to go to the police station. I told you before it's

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down the other block. I know, but I'm still playing that long shot. Now what's that supposed to mean?

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Just be patient, please, Angel. That clothing store down there, Wilson's, that looks like the largest

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one in town. All right, I agree. But what is that? Let's pass it just once again, and then we'll...

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All right, so you can stop on a dime. Now what? That big fat man just coming out in a brand new

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yellow raincoat. Mr. Logan? I wouldn't be surprised. Stay here, Angel. I still have a client,

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remember? I want to talk to Logan before we stick the police on him. Now, George, be careful with him.

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Yes, sure. Okay, okay. Mr. Logan? Mr. Logan, wait a minute. Hey, please, wait. What do you want?

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I don't know you. Well, the name's George Valentine. Never heard of you. Please, I'm sorry.

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I'm very busy. I came to Linfield because a man named Bartell wrote to me. What?

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I'll kill you. I'll kill you with my bare hands. Take it easy, friend. You're out of your class.

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What else do you want from me? Haven't you done enough? Leave me alone. Leave me alone.

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I just want some straight answers to a few questions, that's all. We can talk right there in that car.

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Look at your shoes, Mr. Logan. What? There are still traces of red clay on them. See?

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No, no. I want to talk to you about a clay pet and murder, Mr. Logan. Now, will you come along?

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Yes. Yes, I'll go with you. I must talk to somebody. Anybody, please talk to me. Help me. Please help me.

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In just a moment, we'll return to tonight's adventure of George Valentine.

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Over the hills and through the woods to grandmother's house we go. That's a well-known

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saying that has always been appropriate during the holiday season. This year, perhaps you'll be one

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of the many thousands of western motorists who'll be driving home for Christmas and New Year's,

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driving over the hills and through the woods. That's why I think this is an especially good

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time to remind you that for top performance under all driving conditions, for the kind of driving

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you do, where you do it, your car needs a gasoline with many different performance qualities.

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Any gasoline can be made to stress one performance feature at the expense of others,

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but Chevron Supreme is designed to give you not one, not two, but all eight high performance

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qualities in correct balance. Power, warm-up, starting, mileage, anti-knock, vapor lock

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prevention, acceleration, and area blending. You'll feel the difference from the very first tank full

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of Chevron Supreme. For smoother, all-around top performance, be sure to get the gas that gives you

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all eight. Just drive in and say, fill her up with Chevron Supreme at any standard station or

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independent Chevron gas station where they say, and mean, we take better care of your car.

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A next convict, Ray Bartel, pleads that he's trying to go straight and hires you to find out who ransacked his room and why.

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Only the case is complicated by the murder of a man the police haven't been able to identify,

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and the fact that the leading suspect is one of the town's leading citizens, John Logan.

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And as you sit with him in your car on a rain-swept street, you know he's close to the breaking point.

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That is, if your name is George Valentine.

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If you're sort of a private detective, Mr. Valentine, then you're just what I, what I may need.

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What I may need, and you Miss Brooks, you seem so understanding. It's been so long since I could

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really talk to anybody. Please, Mr. Logan, you must calm down. Mrs. Logan is a fine woman,

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fine and good, but I couldn't talk to her, not after what I've done to her. Now look, look,

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we're not going to get anywhere until you get a hold of yourself and tell us what happened in some

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sort of order. Things happen in life in any order, do they make any sense? Mr. Logan, you were seen

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leaving the clay pits. Your footprints there were photographed by the police. Don't you understand? I

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didn't kill Joe. When I got there, Joe was already dead. Oh, so that was the name of the murdered man.

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The police were unable to identify him. Joe, that was the only name he ever gave me. You'd think for all

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the money he got from me, he'd at least give me his full name. Joe, the collector, Joe, the tormentor,

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Joe, the informant. I cut that out, Mr. Logan. Joe. Yes, I, I'm sorry. All right then. When did you first meet this Joe, whoever he is?

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When I first made such a fool of myself over Ruthie. Ruthie Bartell? I have no excuse for being a fool,

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but I also have suffered enough so I don't have to be kicked around anymore. When is Joe finished?

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Well, I, you see, back in those days, I, I saw Joe following me around and I realized that somebody had

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snapped a picture of Ruthie and me. I was sure that Joe was a detective hired by my wife. Of course,

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I stopped seeing Ruthie. I died a thousand deaths waiting for the showdown. But it never came, huh?

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Not for Mrs. Logan, is that it? Yes, I was wrong about who we worked for, you see, because

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then I got a blackmail note presented to me by Joe. I was to pay and go on paying each month.

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And you paid and paid. What else could I do? I was already a failure as far as my wife is concerned.

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I didn't tell her, but I made bad stupid deals and I gambled money away with that

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Carl Reese. Reese? Yeah. Best I could only pay back half my debts, but if Mrs. Logan,

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Martha, found out about Ruthie, she'd never forgive me. I couldn't let her know that,

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don't you see? Well, didn't you suspect Bartell, Ruthie's husband? I did, I, I did, but by then he

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was in prison. I didn't know what to think. And I decided Joe was the only blackmailer.

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I can't let Martha find out about Ruthie. The police mustn't time eat any of this. They

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mustn't. I'm afraid that's sort of wishful thinking, Mr. Logan. They'll find out that you just bought

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this new raincoat that you burned your old one and they'll be curious to say the least.

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You went right from the clay pits to Bartell's, ransacked his room, looking for the blackmail

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evidence, whatever that was. Isn't that right? Yes, yes, you see, Joe got in touch with me yesterday

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afternoon. I thought I was all through paying him. He promised me I was, but you're never through,

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are you? I'm afraid not, Mr. Logan. Told me to come out of that, that little shack in the clay pits.

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That's where the payoff, payoff always took place out there. And when I got there, he was dead.

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Shot to death. What did you do? Well, I, I suddenly realized just what an awful spot I was in.

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Bartell was trying to contact me. Perhaps he was the blackmailer after all.

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So I had to find the evidence before the police found it. And did you find it at Bartell's place?

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No, not a trace of it. It wasn't on him either. Mr. Valentine, what can I do?

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How can I get out of this terrible mess? I'm afraid there's only one thing you can do.

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Turn yourself over to the police and have the whole thing brought out into the open.

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I can't? Martha will never believe me. She'll never forgive me. George, look,

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there's a policeman coming over this way. What's that? Oh, they'll never get me.

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Be reasonable, Logan. They won't. Hey, don't stop that. Wait.

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George, stop me. Don't. I'll get him.

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No, George, the police will catch him. Hey, hey, hey, wait.

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Sorry, officer, I can't. Hey, stop, I said.

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You don't understand. That man will get away. Yeah, but you're not getting away.

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You think that sign is just there for amusement?

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Mark. You'll be parked here 10 minutes, Mac. Have a ticket.

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Don't worry, Valentine, the pickup order is out on Logan.

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He seems to be our man, all right. Was there any additional information

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about this man, Joe? Not much. Typical blackmailer, shifty, covered his tracks.

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Anything on the gun? We'll know when we find it. 38. Two bullets fired.

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Thanks, Sheriff. Where are you going, George?

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The sheriff's got his murder, but we still have a client, remember?

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Gone. Yeah. Firetel's gone.

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If he beat it, it was just a minute ago. What?

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Yeah, the light bulb is still warm. It must have been just turned off.

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But where we...

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Where we...

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Okay, Bartel, slow down. No. Let go of me.

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I'm not sticking around, Valentine. This place is too hot.

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For a blackmailer, you mean? Huh?

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Never heard the naughty word before, huh?

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Okay, it has to do with Ruthie and Logan. Ruthie? You mean that little... and Logan?

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Well, I don't know anything about it. You're not going to get me in the middle of it.

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Nobody will. Oh, now, wait a minute. Try again. But still...

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And you're going to the Logan home with me, friend, after we pick up one more passenger.

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Yes, I'm a gambler. Is there anything wrong with being a gambler?

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Well, let's leave that to the Caffava Committee, Reese.

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But Mr. Logan owed you a large gambling debt, didn't he?

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As a matter of fact, he did. He didn't pay it, huh?

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Not yet. Uh-huh.

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I think we'd better take a little trip to the Logan's, Mr. Reese.

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This whole thing needs some clear light thrown on it.

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He's gone. He's running from the police. But where is he running?

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Here, Mrs. Logan. Please drink some of this coffee.

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Bartell and Reese are in the living room with one of the sheriff's men.

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All right, Agent. We'll wait for the sheriff before we talk any more to them.

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Thank you, my dear.

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I wish I could cry like other women. Cry for John and cry for me.

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Cry because I must have failed him so awfully. He couldn't come to me and talk to me.

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You have no idea where he might have gone, Mrs. Logan?

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No, no. In the state of mind he was in, it would be better if the police knew where he was.

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He came in and he told me all he's done about that Mrs. Bartell and

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all the money he'd paid in blackmail and all the money he owes,

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as though money were the most important thing in the world.

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He told me all that and... and he cried.

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Mr. Valentine, John isn't a murderer. That much I know.

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I hope you're right.

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I told him not to run, but he wouldn't listen to me.

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He packed his bag and he kissed me and he ran out.

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If they catch up with him and he tries to get away from them, they'll...

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All right, all right, Mrs. Logan. The evidence against your husband is quite strong,

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but maybe we can still help him. Maybe...

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Help? Do you think we can? Really?

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Joe was a blackmailer. Mr. Logan was being blackmailed.

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The obvious conclusion was that there was a fight and Mr. Logan killed him.

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Well then, George?

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But suppose Mr. Logan was right and Joe was only the go-between

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and Joe proved difficult to his employer the real blackmailer.

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But who could that be? How could we ever find that out?

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Well, it could be Bartell. Even though he was in prison,

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he could have kept in contact with Joe.

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All this business about coming here to get a job and going straight is so many lies.

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Maybe you're right, Mr. Valentine.

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Or perhaps it was even somebody like Mr. Reese who's the real blackmailer.

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Mr. Reese?

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Aren't you reaching a little now, George?

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Why? Mr. Logan had quite a bit of money, all right,

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but not enough to pay all his legal debts and his gambling debt,

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which by the way couldn't be collected legally.

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So Mr. Reese could take a right to the blackmailer.

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So Mr. Reese could take a rather unorthodox but effective way of collecting his debt

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by blackmailing the money out of your husband, Mrs. Logan.

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And there could be others then who might possibly be the blackmailers.

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John wouldn't be the only one with the motive for killing Joe.

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Uh-huh. That's exactly what I meant.

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Why bring me here, Sheriff?

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Never mind.

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John.

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They've caught up with him, George.

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Well, this is it, Brooksie.

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All right, Logan. Just sit here.

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John. John, are you all right?

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I didn't do it. I didn't kill anybody. No one will believe me.

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You already told me about his being blackmailed and he was running.

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And that makes him as good a suspect as we need, Valentine.

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At this point, I don't know myself what to think.

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John. John, you mustn't say that.

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You can leave that release here, Logan. You won't need it anymore.

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No. No, wait.

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What?

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You were holding onto that release for dear life.

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There was no money on the dead blackmailer.

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Here. Let me see what's in it.

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Hmm. Ties, rose shirts, underwear, pajamas, socks, extra suit.

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Hmm. All nice and neat.

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And under it, bedroom slippers and...

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And what?

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And a gun.

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What?

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Gun.

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A.38. Two bullets missing.

23:55.080 --> 23:57.960
No. John, there must be some awful mistake.

23:57.960 --> 24:01.880
I have an idea. We'll find the gun is the one that killed Joe.

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And then...

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And I'll find it.

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And then it'll put the final coffin nail in the case against you, Mrs. Logan.

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George. What did you say, Mr. Valentine?

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Yes, you, Mrs. Logan.

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Your husband was so afraid you might find out about him and Mrs. Bartell.

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And still it was you who blackmailed him.

24:21.880 --> 24:24.840
How can you say anything like that, George? Why would she do it?

24:24.840 --> 24:26.440
Well, now that's two questions, Angel.

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And I think I have some pretty definite answers to both.

24:28.520 --> 24:30.840
Well, come on. Let's have them. What's all this?

24:30.840 --> 24:34.040
Well, strangely enough, Sheriff, it's what you said about the police when you opened it

24:34.040 --> 24:36.360
that intrigued me even more than the presence of the gun.

24:36.360 --> 24:37.240
What's that?

24:37.240 --> 24:38.440
Will you make sense?

24:38.440 --> 24:41.640
All right. Mr. Logan is a man. More than that, a very upset and distraught man.

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Would he stop to pack the police so carefully?

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No. He just throws some things together.

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Yeah, a woman packed that bag. She wanted you to run, Mr. Logan.

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You're insane.

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Think back, Mr. Logan. You didn't really pack that bag now, did you?

24:55.560 --> 24:59.240
Well, I don't know. I guess maybe I didn't.

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And since Mrs. Logan had the gun to put in, she's the one who used it on Joe,

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the man she hired as the go-between.

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Any more proof, Valentine?

25:06.600 --> 25:09.720
A woman identified the fat man running away from the clay pits

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is wearing a dark blue raincoat.

25:11.320 --> 25:13.400
So what? Logan himself admitted he was there.

25:13.400 --> 25:15.720
How could you tell the color in the dark?

25:15.720 --> 25:18.760
That's right. And it was raining. It would just look black.

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Only one woman could say what she did.

25:21.320 --> 25:23.640
The wife who knew the color of the raincoat her husband wore.

25:24.360 --> 25:26.120
And the reason you were out there, Mrs. Logan,

25:26.120 --> 25:28.440
is because you had that argument with Joe and you killed him.

25:28.440 --> 25:30.360
Don't make him stop saying that, John. Please.

25:30.360 --> 25:32.200
No, no. Let him go on.

25:32.200 --> 25:34.280
I was wondering why you were so careful to point attention

25:34.280 --> 25:36.040
to your husband having to buy a new raincoat.

25:36.040 --> 25:38.040
But what would be the motive, Valentine?

25:38.040 --> 25:39.880
A wife blackmailing her own husband?

25:39.880 --> 25:42.520
Oh, we've discussed some unusual causes for blackmail before,

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haven't we, Mrs. Logan? And you understood very well.

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A little matter of revenge.

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Your husband failed you, squandered your money, played around.

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And you had to get your revenge. And you did.

25:55.320 --> 25:56.680
Made his life a hell.

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Martha, you didn't. Tell him you didn't.

25:58.520 --> 26:00.200
And you got most of the money, too, didn't you?

26:00.200 --> 26:03.400
But you killed Joe and in desperation tried to blame your husband

26:03.400 --> 26:04.760
for his murder and you almost succeeded.

26:04.760 --> 26:06.680
Martha, Martha, don't let him go on saying that.

26:06.680 --> 26:09.080
Now that we know what to look for, we'll find the money, Mrs. Logan.

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Stop it! Stop it!

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Martha.

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Stop looking at me like that. You cheat. You silly fool.

26:15.240 --> 26:19.480
I'm glad. Whatever torture I brought you, I'm glad you understand.

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I hate you. Hate you.

26:30.600 --> 26:32.920
George, there isn't any reason to stay here any longer.

26:33.640 --> 26:36.440
A house can be so cold when hate has lived in it.

26:36.440 --> 26:37.960
Yeah, Brooksy, we're going.

26:37.960 --> 26:49.800
I still have to straighten out something with my client.

26:49.800 --> 26:53.880
Holiday time is jingle bell time and a good time to remind you that

26:53.880 --> 26:59.560
new RPM motor oil doubles engine life between major overhauls due to lubrication

26:59.560 --> 27:03.880
and more than meets the heavy-duty motor oil requirements of every car manufacturer.

27:03.880 --> 27:10.600
New RPM helps cut unnecessary repair bills and puts the jingle back in your pocket where it belongs.

27:11.080 --> 27:17.160
Get new RPM motor oil for your car at independent Chevron gas stations and standard stations where

27:17.160 --> 27:21.800
they say and mean we take better care of your car.

27:31.800 --> 27:32.600
An apology.

27:32.600 --> 27:37.400
Yeah, frankly Bartell, I didn't buy that. I want to go straight, but somebody won't let me routine.

27:37.400 --> 27:39.240
But then why did you go to work for me?

27:39.240 --> 27:42.920
Mr. Valentine just has a deeper version to being led down the garden path.

27:42.920 --> 27:46.040
Yep. Life is full of surprises, all right.

27:46.040 --> 27:50.360
You did come to Linfield just to see a kindly friend of the family.

27:50.360 --> 27:57.320
Yeah, Ruthie was a doll, a real doll. But then look at Mrs. Logan, what she did to her husband.

27:57.320 --> 28:05.240
I tell you, I learned one thing. Stay away from women, friend. All women. Far away.

28:06.280 --> 28:07.240
You don't say?

28:07.240 --> 28:11.400
Have nothing to do with them, especially those that look cute and smile sweet.

28:12.440 --> 28:14.200
Uh, are you coming, George?

28:15.160 --> 28:17.320
What's the matter, Angel? He doesn't mean you.

28:17.320 --> 28:18.200
No, of course not.

28:18.200 --> 28:28.120
Well, that's just... Hey, wait a minute. What's the matter with my smile?

28:38.200 --> 28:43.320
Tonight's adventure of George Valentine has been brought to you by Standard Oil Company of California

28:43.320 --> 28:48.760
on behalf of independent Chevron gas stations and Standard stations throughout the West.

28:48.760 --> 28:52.120
Robert Bailey is starred as George with Virginia Gregg as Brooksy.

28:52.760 --> 28:57.560
Let George Do It was written by David Victor and Jackson Gillis and directed by Kenneth Webb.

28:58.440 --> 29:04.040
Lee Patrick was heard as Mrs. Logan, Kenny Ross as Logan, Byron Cain as Bartel,

29:04.040 --> 29:07.960
Hal K. Dawson as Reese, and Joe Forte as the Sheriff.

29:07.960 --> 29:13.800
The music is composed and presented by Eddie Dunstetter, your announcer, John Heaston.

29:22.920 --> 29:28.120
Listen again next week, same time, same station, to Let George Do It.

29:28.120 --> 29:32.120
Let George Do It is heard overseas through the worldwide facilities of the Armed Forces

29:32.120 --> 29:58.920
Radio Service. This is the Mutual Don Lee Broadcasting System.

30:02.120 --> 30:02.920
you