The Strange Dr. Weird.
Good evening.
Come in, won't you?
Well, what's the matter?
You seem a bit nervous.
Perhaps the cemetery outside this house has upset you.
But there are some strange things going on.
For instance, being lost in a wilderness.
A wilderness where death is never more than a few inches away.
As in the story I want to tell you tonight.
A story I call...
Dead Man's Paradise.
My story begins in the wild and desolate swamplands near the mouth of the Mississippi River.
In a small Cajun shack, all but hidden by the overhanging cypress trees,
Andre Morrell speaks to his son Paul.
Paul, the sun has been up for an hour already.
You must see to our traps.
But Father, you're ill.
I don't like leaving you here alone.
I'll be all right.
Now, please, attend to the traps.
Very well, Father.
I'll be back just as soon as I...
Take him out, Paul.
Who are you? What do you want?
You'll find out soon enough, old man.
Duke, get that rifle of theirs over the fireplace.
Okay.
You must be the two bank robbers the radio was warning everyone about.
That's right, bright boy.
Now every cop in Louisiana is looking for us.
How far are we from New Orleans?
Forty miles.
Forty miles, huh?
Well, you're taking us there in your boat.
But we lend our boat to Pierre Duvelle.
Besides, no boat can get through swamps.
What are we going to do?
We're sailing right through to New Orleans with no trouble at all.
We'll have to make it on foot, that's all.
These Cajuns know every inch of the swamps.
So bright boy here will guide us.
No, no, it's impossible.
Well, you must.
He will kill you if you do not do as he asks.
That's right, kid.
Your old man's talking sense.
But you don't know the swamps.
We must travel by narrow Indian trails
through bad stretches of quicksand
where a single misstep means death.
It can't be that bad.
Why, on my road map, this region is listed as
Paradise Swamp.
Yes, but the old name, the name the Indians gave it,
was Dead Man's Paradise.
Because no stranger, whoever entered it, came out alive.
There's the quicksand pools of it
waiting to trap strangers.
And there are the insects, the mosquitoes that drive men mad.
There are the birds, who shriek sound like the screams of dying men.
Hey, listen to that.
That's a lot of malarkey.
Bright boy here is going to guide us, and that's that.
But I can't leave my father here alone.
Can't you see he's ill?
I don't want to leave him alone any more than you do.
He might talk.
So I'm going to say to it that none of us have to worry about him any more.
What do you mean?
Just this.
Father!
You... you've killed him.
Yeah, and that's what's going to happen to you
if you don't do exactly as I tell you.
Now let's get started.
I want to be in New Orleans by tomorrow night.
We've been walking for seven hours now, eh?
How far do you think we've come?
Hey, Bright boy, how far we come since this morning?
Ten miles.
Ten miles?
Hey, that ain't bad.
Hey, what's that?
That's just a bird, not a ghost.
Pull yourself together, Duke.
Nothing to be scared of, just trees, underbrush and swamp pools.
Yeah, yeah, I know, but every way you train, everything looks the same.
If we didn't have that Cajun kid to guide us,
hey, look, the kid's trying to give us a slip.
Oh, he is, is he?
Well, listen, teaching...
Hey, see, hit him.
Yeah, I could hardly miss him at this distance.
Come on.
Should have kept a closer watch on him.
Might have known he'd try something like this.
Well, here he is.
His head's all covered with blood.
He's dead, all right.
Yeah, we never knew what hit him.
Yeah, but Ace, what are we gonna do now without the kid to guide us?
We'll just have to go on the rest of the way by ourselves.
But how we find our way, every way you turn, is nothing but swamp.
We can't go on without a guide.
Get hold of yourself, you fool.
If you lose your head, you're done for.
Yeah, but Ace, what chance we got?
Shut up, will you?
Listen to what I have to say.
Now, by keeping our eyes on the sun and doing the little figuring,
we can keep going in the right direction.
As for the quicksand, well, we'll just have to watch our step.
Just keep saying one thing to yourself.
New Orleans is only 30 miles away, and we're gonna make it.
Uh, Doctor, may I comment upon the versimilitude
demonstrated by the introductory sections of your dramatic effort?
Explain yourself, young man.
Your story, its design is excellent.
Such fine style and expert handling of details.
And you know, Doctor, it's those very same qualities
that make Adam Hat so outstanding, too.
That's because the designs for Adam Hats
are created by experts in their field.
The smart styles and carefully handled detail you see in every Adam
is the product of years of experience.
And just as each listener will find a different shade of meaning in a story,
so will every man find the shade of color he prefers
in the large selection of Adam Hats.
Gentlemen, there's only one logical conclusion to this story about Adam Hats.
Buy one for yourself.
And Adam Hat has character.
Now, back to Doctor Weird's story.
And now I'll continue my story, Dead Man's Paradise.
Five hours have passed.
Five hours of nightmare for Ace and Duke.
The shadowy cypress trees and underbrush seem to become thicker
every mile they pushed on.
And they were constantly forced to detour around swamp pools and lakes,
ever mindful of the treacherous quicksands they must avoid.
How far you think we've come, Ace, since we left that cage, kid?
About four or five miles, I guess.
Look, the sun's gone down. It'll be dark before long.
What do we do now?
We'll stop pretty soon and wait for dawn.
The morning will push on.
The rest of you will ever get out of these swamps alive.
Did you hear that?
Yeah, that sounded like...
You have committed murder, and you must pay.
Ace, that's the voice of that cage, kid.
No, no, it can't be. I knocked him off.
It's the voice of his ghost. That's what it is.
Don't be a fool.
The ones who have died in the swamps, say you too must die.
You see, I told you to come back to get us.
Both of you will die in the quicksands.
Only 20 feet ahead of you is the pool of quicksands.
You hear that? It's quicksands.
Don't be a fool, I tell you.
You really think there's quicksands ahead here, Bournice?
Just a trick to get us to walk in another direction where the quicksands really is.
Yes, I guess you're right.
Why, sure I am. Now keep going, straight ahead.
Okay.
We've still got an hour or so until it gets too dark to travel.
We've got to make the most of it.
Yeah, but just the same way you think.
Hey! Hey!
What's wrong?
I stepped into some quicksands. Help me out. I'm sinking fast.
Duke, try crawling out.
I can't. I keep sinking deeper.
Hey, help me out.
If I only had a rope or something, where do I look around?
No, no, don't leave me.
Look, how can I help you?
It's sucking me down. It's already in for my chest.
Give me a hand and pull me out, will you?
I can't do that. You would pull me in with you.
Do something.
There's nothing I can do without a rope.
There must be. Don't leave me down like this. Help me, will you?
There's only one thing I can do for you, Duke.
And this is it.
Duke, he's dead.
Yes, he's paid for his crimes.
Now it is your turn.
No, no, you may have gotten, Duke, but you won't get me.
You won't get me.
With an effort, Ace pulled himself together, determined not to suffer Duke's fate.
Taking a bearing from the twilight rays of the sun, Ace continued on his way,
cautiously scanning the ground before him.
Time and time again, the voice of the Cajun boy came echoing through the swamp,
mocking Ace's efforts to escape,
telling him of the quicksand that lay waiting on every side.
There is no escape for you.
Just ahead of you lies quicksand,
and you are going to die in it.
Shut up! Shut up, you hear?
Death is waiting for you
in the quicksand ahead.
Maybe this will keep you quiet.
You should have saved one bullet for yourself.
Be quiet. Be quiet, you hear? You're dead. You can't talk.
You seem confused now.
Is the quicksand ahead of you?
To the left?
To the right?
If I were you, I'd turn to the left.
Trying to outsmart me, aren't you?
Well, you can't. I'm going straight ahead.
You're making a mistake.
There is quicksand just ahead.
If it was, you wouldn't be telling me.
I know better than to...
I'm caught! It is quicksand! I'm sinking!
Yes, it's quicksand.
And in a minute you'll sink beneath the surface.
Then your crimes will be paid for.
You're not dead. You're alive.
I didn't kill it.
No, that bullet you fired at me only creased my scalp,
knocked me unconscious.
I recovered in time to trail you.
Get my revenge.
Don't stand there. Get me out of here.
I'll confess to anything.
Only get me out of here.
Why should I help you?
You killed my father.
No! This is the same pool of quicksand the duke died in.
And now you're going to join him.
No! No!
You've been wandering around in circles for hours.
But I knew you'd end up here.
No, no. Don't let me die.
The quicksand is up to your neck now.
In a minute it will reach your mouth.
And then it'll be all over.
Save me! I don't want to die.
No, my father didn't want to die either.
But you killed him.
Help me. You must help me.
Nobody can help you now.
Help me, please, God.
I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to tell you
that this is the only quicksand hole in all the swamp
between here and New Orleans.
Your grace had only known there was just one pool of quicksand.
He might have reached New Orleans.
But you see, he let his imagination run wild
and vision death on all sides.
No wonder he traveled in circles and ended up dead.
I know another case where...
Oh, you have to go now? Too bad.
But perhaps you'll drop in on me again soon.
I'm always home.
Just look for the house on the other side of the cemetery.
The house of Dr. Weir.