The Tom Mix Ralston's Tray Shooters are on the air.
And here comes Tom Mix, America's favorite cowboy.
Cut Tony, come on boy!
Red is Ralston for your breakfast.
Starts the day off shine and fry.
Gives you lots of cowboy energy.
With a flavor that's just right.
It's delicious and nutritious.
Bite size, ready to eat.
Take a trip from home, go and tell your mom.
Ready for Ralston KBB.
The Tom Mix Ralston's Tray Shooters bring you action, mystery and mile a minute thrill.
Tonight you're about to hear another episode in a baffling mystery.
The mystery of the Vanishing Village.
Tom Mix and Sheriff Mike are trying to solve the oddest mystery of their career.
For an entire village of 600 people has disappeared.
Vanished as totally as if it had never existed.
Worse than that, two men, obviously somehow connected with the disappearance of the village, have been murdered.
Tom is determined to find the answer to the mystery.
Not only because the people must be found and the murderers apprehended.
But also because Sergeant Hank Smith of the United States Army is desperately anxious to find the girl he came home to marry.
A girl who lived in the village which has vanished.
In a moment we'll ride an action packed trail of adventure.
But first, here's good news.
The best news you've ever heard.
It's news of a sensational radio offer.
Sheriff Mike Shaw has arranged to have some badges made.
That's right, whistling sheriff badges, exactly like the one the vigilantes gave him.
Think of it, you can have a whistling sheriff's badge, exactly like Mike Shaw's, for your very own.
This badge is a knock-off.
There's never been anything like it before.
You see, it's made of metal, shaped in the form of a shield.
Has cross six shooters at the top.
And the word sheriff stamped in big letters to make it official.
In the center of the badge, now get this.
In the center of the badge, there's a siren whistle.
Yes sir, a siren whistle built in.
And when you blow on it, it sounds like this.
Boy, oh boy, will you ever get a kick out of this whistling sheriff's badge.
And will your friends envy you when you wear it?
Now, to get yours, here's all you have to do.
From the top of a red and white checkerboard package of delicious shredded Ralston,
tear off the little circle with the letters RSS printed in it.
Tear off the circle with RSS printed in it from the top of one shredded Ralston package.
Mail this RSS circle with ten cents in coin and your name and address to Tom Mix.
Box 808 St. Louis, Missouri.
That's all you have to do and we'll send you your whistling sheriff's badge right away.
This offer is good only in the United States.
The supply is limited, so get your order in tonight, tomorrow sure.
And now, let's join Tom, Mike, and Sergeant Smith as they examine the body of Harry Phillips,
Moose Creek Junction's station agent, who has just been killed.
Listen.
He's the second one, Tom.
Salethi Albine was the first and he's the second.
Both of them killed the same way by a long-range rifle equipped with a silencer.
Holy mackerel sheriff, how can you tell that?
Easy, Sergeant. You'll note that that there, Winter, at the other end of the room, has a hole through it.
A neat hole drilled by a bullet. Now, that bullet comes from the outside.
Nice work, Mike.
Thanks, Tom. Thanks.
Well, it holds bodies, blood, and this is no motion picture. It's real.
Sounds what a tragedy. How come this man to be killed, Mix?
If I knew that, Mr. Dane, I'd know the answer to a lot of questions.
It's all silly of me to ask you. I forget that, after all, you're really only a cowboy.
That does it.
What, Mike?
I said that does it. I just naturally can't hold myself no longer, Tom.
Now, looky here. You saw it all spindly shank imitation of a man.
You may think you're a great Hollywood director.
At least ways you may think that their dinky little yellow French hat you're wearing
and that blue muffler makes you one.
But around here, and especially with me, you're just a little shrimp trying to make a big noise.
Now, shut up.
Oh, Parrish, it's all. Did you hear what he said to H.D.
Quiet, boys. Quiet, boys, now.
Look here, my poor fellow.
I said shut up.
I ignore you. Mix, do you believe honestly that the death of this man has some connection with the lost village?
If you don't mind, Harlequin, I'd rather not discuss the matter with you.
After all, it's none of your affair.
Eureka! Eureka!
Calls me around again, will he, now, Horace?
I found it, boys. It has come to me in a flash of miraculous brilliance.
Oh, yes, Mr. Dane. Oh, indeedy, Mr. Dane.
You're very wonderful, Mr. Dane.
Just what has come to you, Dane?
Oh, the story line from my picture.
Oh, sounds, what an idea.
Village vanishes.
Six hundred people disappear. That gives us mystery.
Now, for action, we have the murder of two men who are implicated somehow.
Now, all we need is love interest.
Must have love interest. How about it, boys?
Oh, yes. Quiet, let me think.
Quiet. Wait. I have it.
Yes, we knew you'd get it, Mr. Dane.
We did indeed. Yes, we did.
The sergeant there. Of course, that gives us the war interest, too.
The wounded sergeant returns home, desperately anxious to marry the girl he left behind him.
But the girl has vanished, too.
Do you get it? The girl has vanished with the village.
Why, you...
Oh, my skin.
Oh, oh, what he did to Mr. Dane.
He struck Mr. Dane with his fist.
Take it easy, Hank. Take it easy. Why, he struck me.
Get him out of here, Tom. Get him out of here or I'll kill him.
Steady, steady, son. I agree he's a kind of a crawling thing.
But I don't reckon he knew he was hitting that close to home.
Why, that man hit me.
You mean... you mean the things I said, the idea I pro-projected?
You mean it's so?
I'm afraid it is, Dane.
You'd better wait outside and wait quietly.
Oh, yes, yes, I... perhaps silence is golden, perhaps.
Come, my men, let's go.
Yes, Mr. Dane, you know you were marvelous the way you handled that group, Mr. Dane.
Simply supreme, Mr. Dane.
Thank you very much.
Hey, Tom, you sure ain't meanin' to have that there loudmouth skunk as a guest at the ranch.
When I made that offer, it was hospitality, pure and simple, Mike.
But now...
Oh, but now you changed your mind, huh?
No, no, my offer's still good, Mike.
Huh?
The great Harlequin Q. Dane will be my guest at the TM Bar.
Oh, Tom.
But for a different reason, Mike, a completely different reason.
What do you mean? What's in your mind?
Just a feeling, Mike, just one of those hunches that Harlequin Q. Dane is even more important than even he thinks he is.
Tom, you gotta look in your eyes. It tells me you've discovered something, that you're fallin' a trail.
Now, what is it?
No, not now, Mike. Two men have been killed and we've got to do something about it.
I want Doc Green and Doeby to perform a thorough medical examination.
Later that night, Tom sits in his darkened office at the TM Bar.
He sits hunched in a chair, his feet propped on the open window, gazing out into the star-filled night.
Tom is deep in thought, and off in the distance, a coyote yaps mournfully.
Who's that? Who's there?
It's me, Tom, Hank Smith.
Oh, come in, Hank.
I... I know you're thinking, Tom.
I know you're trying to figure out what the mess is all about.
Oh, over here, Hank.
No, no, don't turn on the light. Just take that other chair by the window.
Thanks, Tom.
Oh, I know how you're feeling, Hank. You're having a terrible time of it.
You're certainly right about that.
But, Tom, I... I just can't help feeling guilty about having you brought all the way from Antwerp,
from a hospital bed, to solve a case that hasn't got any solution.
Every mystery has a solution, Hank. Every question has an answer.
And we'll find the answer to this one.
If I could only know that Mary's safe, that she's well.
But the chances are she isn't.
I don't know how a village could possibly disappear,
but it must have been something terrible that happened.
Terrible? In some ways, I suppose it was.
What do you mean, in some ways?
Son, I know how important this is to you,
and while I've got an idea as to what happened, Hank, I...
Well, I can't talk about it right now, even to you.
I'm just beginning to find the signposts along the trail.
Just ride along with me till I've actually found the trail itself.
Will you?
Okay, Tom.
But what about this Harlequin Bane jerk, the Hollywood director?
For one thing, Hank, don't consider him the typical Hollywood director.
Bane is one of the phonies. A lot of talk and nothing behind it.
He's also a chiseler of the First Water.
Just before you came in, I was getting ready to make a call to the Twin Rivers Hotel.
A call in connection with Mr. Bane. Do you mind if I do it now?
Holy mackerel, of course not, Tom.
You see, there was one thing among others that I noticed about Mr. Bane
that I never noticed before.
Oh, Twin Rivers Hotel, please.
Yes, ma'am, thank you.
See, I've seen him often, Hank, when I've been making a picture in Hollywood.
Him and his hangers on those boys who yes him to death.
But there was one hombre who isn't with him on this trip, and that's surprising.
Oh, who's that, Tom?
A publicity agent named Hardy Post.
A crackerjack when it came to publicity. Full of ideas.
But he loved to gamble.
The result was he was always in debt, and no decent studio would have him around.
But, oh, hello?
This is Tom Mick speaking.
Oh, hello, Bill.
Say, Bill, have you got a person registered by the name of Hardy Post?
Yes, Hardy Post, that's right.
Yes, I'll wait, Bill.
As I was saying, Hank, Dane was glad to hire him for a small salary
when Hardy was broke and needed the money.
Yes, Bill?
I see.
How long has he been registered?
July 17.
Yes, I see.
Oh, no, no, no, no, Bill.
Now, listen, Bill, just forget I called.
Right.
Oh, and by the way, how's the youngster doing?
Uh-huh.
Specialist did the job, Eddie?
Oh, that's good.
Oh, no, forget it, Bill, forget it. You don't owe me a thing.
Oh, much obliged, Bill.
So long, brother.
I was right, Hank.
By heaven, I was right.
Tom, you're excited. What is it?
I don't know. I don't really know, but here are the facts.
An entire village is banned.
A phony Hollywood director gets a letter from your father,
a letter dated July the 8th.
The letter says your father will be glad to have him come
and make a picture in Smithville.
Now, on July 17, the Hollywood director's press agent
arrives in Twin Rivers, the closest large town to Smithville,
and he's been registered there ever since.
Tom, what are you driving at?
I tell you, I don't know, Hank. I'm just giving you the facts.
I'm giving you the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle
that we've got to put together.
Now then, the Hollywood director, Harlequin Q. Dane,
and his press agent, Hardy Post, are both the kind of men
you wouldn't trust 10 inches.
Also, the minute they enter the picture,
an entire village disappears.
I tell you, Hank, they're connected with us somehow, somewhere.
I knew Harlequin was in on it earlier this evening
when he shot his mouth off about the picture he was going to make.
I don't get it, Tom.
Hank, the Great Dane is the type of person who will tell a lie
and then begin to believe in himself.
You hit him because he began to invent a story
around you and a missing girl.
But he wasn't inventing it.
He knew it was actually so, Hank.
He knew, even though he didn't realize it,
that you had come back and found your boyhood sweetheart missing.
Well, I just don't understand, Tom.
Well, Hank, here, let me put it another way.
The so-called Great Dane, and believe me,
that's not his right name.
Wait, Tom, out there in the moonlight,
staggering toward the house.
Great guns, it's a girl.
Look, she stumbled. She's fallen.
Come on, let's get to her, Hank. Through the window.
Tom, Tom, I got a feeling.
I think...
Here we are, Hank, here we are.
The girl.
Tom, I was right.
It's Mary.
It's Mary, the girl.
I came back to Mary, and she's hurt, Tom.
She's hurt badly.
What is the meaning of this new development?
Where has Mary Slade come from?
What story will she have to tell
about the vanished village of Smithville?
Straight Shooters, here's your chance to be a detective.
You have all the facts and all the clues,
just as many as Tom himself has.
See if you can figure out the answer
to this strange mystery yourself.
And to check your solution,
and to follow a trail of breathtaking adventure,
be sure to join Tom Mix and his Ralston Straight Shooters
next Monday in the next episode of
The Mystery of the Vanishing Village.
And don't miss this sensational offer.
To get a handsome whistling sheriff's badge,
exactly like Mike Shaw's,
act tonight, tomorrow sure.
Boy, this badge is made of metal, and it's a beauty.
Designed in the form of a shield,
it has cross-six shooters at the top,
and the word sheriff in big raised letters
to make it official.
And built in the center of the badge is a siren whistle.
That's right, a siren whistle
used by the vigilantes.
When you blow on the whistle, it sounds like this.
Whistle
Boy, oh boy, this is one offer you don't want to miss.
And here's all you have to do.
To get your badge, just ask Mother to get you
a red and white checkerboard package
of delicious bite-sized shredded Ralston.
From the top of the package,
tear off the little circle with the letters RSS in it.
Mail this RSS circle with your name and address
and ten cents in coin to
Tom Mix, Box 808, St. Louis, Missouri.
That's Box 808, St. Louis, Missouri.
Do it tonight, tomorrow sure.
This offer good only in the United States.
Music
Tom Mix was played by Curly Bradley,
Don Gordon speaking.
Music
This is the Mutual Broadcasting System.