Sam Spade - The Chateau McCloud Caper

The National Broadcasting Company presents the adventures of Sam Spade Detective.

Sam Spade Detective Agency.

Me, sweetheart.

How was your vacation, Sam?

Who said it was a vacation?

Well, I thought you said you were going skiing for a weekend.

With me, if it's always work.

Do you know you can get killed on skis?

If you say so, Sam.

Yes.

Most people just break their legs.

Most people pick some easy little slope, the cowards.

But I know a ski run up near a town called Lucerne.

That's sudden death.

I know a ski run called the backbreaker.

Really, how dull.

And when they name suicide drop.

If they stop trying to top me, you just can't.

This was the deadliest ski country ever seen.

You just sit there while I do a christianne of swing-down market street.

A galender sprung up the stairs.

And a tell mark right through the door.

With a tail, I took out of the deep freeze only last night.

The chateau, my cloud, paper.

For NBC, William Spear, radio's outstanding producer director of mystery and crime drama,

brings you the greatest private detective of them all.

In the adventures of Sam Spade.

Effie!

Oh!

Oh, thank you.

Take off those feet.

I just wanted to prove I could do it.

I did a herringbone up the stairs.

And those clothes.

I'll just bet you read it all those things, Sam.

You were never in the snow country at all.

So, you don't believe me, huh?

Well, here, doubting Effie, I brought you proof.

And don't tell me I rented this.

A snowball.

Yes.

I'm a real snowball.

Yes, I brought back two of them in a thermosbox.

Who's the other one?

I threw it at a policeman.

It was a freezing, soaked with water and ice.

Sam, you're wonderful.

I can't believe that you had trouble this weekend.

Oh, no.

You cut that snowball open and you'll find a blood-stained bullet inside of it.

And behind the bullet lies a tail.

Ready?

I'm always ready, Sam.

Yes.

They fill it into Sierra Coddy Sheriff's Office, Lucerne, California.

From Samuel Spade, San Francisco, license number 137596.

Subject.

The Shat Home, MacLeod, Caper.

Dear Sheriff.

You run a neat little county up there at Sierra.

And I hate to be snive.

But when my plane steamed into the cold mountain air of your lovely little village at Lucerne,

I knew the chill of death was afoot.

It had to be.

The place was too beautiful to last.

The background hills were right out of the else.

The snow from Grandma Moses.

And the rustic buildings that snuggled under the mantle of white were just too cute for words.

It was abnormally perfect.

Something had to give.

Oh, there.

What?

Ready?

Ready only a man who got off the train.

Well, I'm supposed to find a Shat Home, MacLeod.

Oh, what do you know?

I got the right man on the first try.

All right.

Rubin sent me down to pick you up.

And you could pick me up almost anytime.

What?

Well, that took a little chill off today.

Here we go.

Oh, my.

My.

We guided out of the station.

Runners squeaking on snow.

The soft pad of hooves and the jangle of Maryabelle.

We had a bear skin lapro.

There was a short bear.

So we had the mood close.

Her cheeks were apple red.

And her silk brown hair flowed in a spanking breeze.

Oh, it was a scene that will forever be etched in my name.

Rubin said you're an advertising king.

Well, I have placed a few ads in my day.

Mostly help wanted.

Oh, don't give me.

He said you're going to put them a cloud canneries right on top of the new campaign.

You know, you put to have a big name.

Just eight letters.

Same space.

Well, I'm redeparted.

I'm supposed to be Rookie's girlfriend.

Of course, I think it's only to make his wife mad.

When it's fun up here.

Yeah.

But this is my first trip.

Oh, then you're in for a treat.

That is, it's abnormal psychology appeals to you.

What does that mean?

The Macau guest register is always full of dynamite.

For example, this weekend reads roughly.

Rookie's the cloud with half of the money in the world trying to get the other half.

Good.

His wife, who has Mr. Lockertori to create.

Mrs. Ender Lockertori.

Oh, yes, Carl.

Yes.

My boyfriend, Paul Indicott, Jiglo Titan.

Charlie Allison, co-worker, and friend to Rupert.

He's a full technician or something, though.

And then there's Tosier Spenborg.

He instructor, who comes down like a wolf on the foe.

Oh, the wolf.

And Slyther.

Yes.

Well, I'll never remember all the names.

I'm in the ad game, you know.

It's initials to me.

I call people, well, RL, T-S, N-T-G, and right, you know.

Well, the names don't mean a thing.

Just remember this.

Every 30 seconds.

Duck.

I beg your pardon.

The McLeod estate was eight miles out of town, and it seemed we were there in no time at all.

Rita Parker hustled the Alpine Buckboard, and there into a stable while I went up to the

shack, though, to meet my employer, Rufus McLeod.

It was more of a Swiss chalet, you know, where the second floor is larger than the first.

And I guarantee that no one in Switzerland could have afforded this chalet.

Even with their second floor, the same size as the first.

I walked in and found Rufus big and red face, standing in front of a fireplace.

It could easily have roasted a brace of oxen.

Rump to rum.

Of course, you're saying spade.

I am, Mr. McLeod.

You came at an opportune time.

Good.

No one around to overhear our conversation.

I suppose you wonder why I hired a detective for a place like this.

Well, not especially.

I go where the people go.

I am the money.

You'll be paid well for your time in trouble.

I must be quick.

In essence, this is my situation.

Earlier this week, I received an anonymous letter saying that if I invited the guest list,

I'd plan for this weekend, there might be serious trouble.

Here's the letter.

And keep it to yourself.

So Los Angeles was supposed to work.

I see. Well, we might start by tracing down this typewriter through an LA detective agency.

Every one of my charming guests is from Los Angeles.

One of them wrote it, if you ask me.

Very likely.

I want to know who wrote it if I can, but more than that, I wonder what serious trouble

the writer is referring to.

The girl you sent to pick me up said you had a very volatile group of people assembled.

And perhaps they're high-strong individuals, but they're civilized.

I'm sure their conflict would never get beyond a cutting phrase or two,

or perhaps a punch thrown here or there.

Well, then you really don't believe you'll have any trouble?

Yeah, I don't know.

I don't know.

I thought it would be advisable to have a man like yourself around.

Yes.

One who deals in trouble professionally.

Perhaps if things do get out of line, you can help prepare the damages

or even prevent things from occurring.

Well, I'll do my best, Mr. McLeod, but it's not easy to look for something

when you don't know what you're looking for.

Oh, yeah, they come, Steve.

Oh.

Back from the ski runs.

Oh.

I told them you were handling an advertising campaign for my counteries.

Oh.

Well.

Oh.

Well.

Well.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Well.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

They came stamping in, pulling off gloves.

Unzipping pockets.

And if it hadn't been for the grown-up dialogue, looking all the way like a group of carefree children.

It was hard to believe that the chill of death would also win an even day.

I couldn't keep my eyes off one of the particular members of the group.

Mossberg, Steve Boots, Chinese Vermillion Downhill Pants, and a candy-sized pocket,

which she now pulled over her lovely head.

The sweater she wore underneath was, I'm sure, designed for someone much smaller.

A daxer for him?

This is the advertising man who's been telling me about room.

Oh.

Mr. Samuel Spade, my half-wife's quarter.

Half?

Well, how, how do you do it?

Glad you came, Sam.

We can always use another sport in the crowd.

Hey, everybody!

Shut up!

Introducing the incomparable fabulous Mr. Samuel Spade.

Woo!

Quiet, Sam.

I'm going to get past Sam.

Me.

Pull in the coffee, the pocket, Charlie Allison.

So, you spin-boggles.

Charlie's the one who doesn't.

I'll take snowshoes any day.

I can't get anywhere in snowshoes.

You've heard, perhaps, of a tortoise in the hair.

Roofer drinks with some drinks, time and dairy, top-tarties, coffee, gond-shumps.

You were having hot-buttered rum, the stuff's warming in the kitchen.

Well, get it out, get it out.

Right away, Carl.

And after the rest of you, ready?

A one?

A one?

Oh!

Oh, boy, yeah.

Oh, boy, yeah.

Oh, man.

Drought till the raptors ring.

Stand and drink a toast once again.

Let every loyal man say,

although he don't, he don't.

Bring to all the happy days.

They took up the song with Augusto,

lifting imaginary drinks into the air,

and it was all very jolly.

For a party that was supposed to be full of the danger,

this one certainly started out in just the opposite direction.

The drinks came, and things got even merry.

Lunch was served, and afterwards I slipped into some outdoor gear,

and scrapped on some steam.

Everybody scattered different directions.

Roofer's McLeod and I escaped with place three miles away

called a halfway cabin.

Between the Chathole and the cabin was a small lake,

called Royal Lake,

completely frozen over.

Roofer stood in front of the cabin,

firing a 30-30 at a target,

led up down on the woods to the east.

What do you see through the glasses, Spade?

Two bull's eyes and nothing outside of the aid ring.

That's great off-hand shooting at this range,

and standing on the skis.

Yeah, I can do much better than that.

What's this?

Do that silver tip on that big Norwegian fire over that?

Yeah.

I'll cut it off.

Hey, look out!

What?

Well, he came swooping out of nowhere, Spade.

I swear I didn't.

I think he hit him. Who was it?

It's Paul Lindekot.

Oh, no, he's up.

Good.

There's Korra with him.

Nobody was supposed to be skiing in that area.

Yeah, they're not.

Well, he really comes, and he looks plenty of man.

What do I care about, Henry?

Just after Korra for the money I give it, that's all.

Don't worry, just kill me.

You're stupid.

You weren't supposed to be skiing there,

and the cut, and it was an accident.

Yeah.

Well, that was no accident.

All right, all right.

I can't fall for this.

You keep on her.

I'll throw one at you.

Oh, that I'd love.

Paul, stop it.

And the rest of you put acting like children.

Your boyfriend threw a sucker punch at me, Korra.

And even if he is, my guest is a limit to hospitality.

I don't call one punch and even trade for a 30-30 bullet.

You won't hit, so don't start crying.

Rufa's eyes are feeling you wouldn't mind if he were here.

You wouldn't mind at all.

Paul, I'm just decided.

I don't like you without a mustache.

Well, for men on, everybody dropped the free pants,

and you knew where you stood.

And it was chilly, soon.

Later in the day, we're all back to Chateau again,

and Paul Indicott wove his delicate variation on his main theme.

Oh, knock your block off.

I tell you, Mr. Indicott, you have some delusion.

I have no delusions, Tosier.

I've seen the way you look at Korra.

The way you two are always trying to lose me on the trails.

Some people ski faster than others.

Yeah, well, let me tell you something.

The next time you try to wolf this girl, it's going to be your life.

I'm nobody's wolf, I'm a ski instructor.

That is what I was hired.

Well, I'll stick to what you were hired for.

Knock off the extra-correctional act.

I don't hope you take this kind of talk from you.

Anything you'd like to do about it?

That's a matter of fact.

There it is.

Let's get it.

Oh, man.

Stop it.

Stop it, stop it, stop it.

Yes.

Oh, man, it seems I said you were damn.

You were damn.

Yes.

You want me to stop from Mrs. Rufa?

No.

I thought you would take me out of here.

All right.

All right.

What?

Let's just put all our fees and get out of here.

Okay, here I'll help you.

Oh, thank you.

You're such a gentleman.

Well, even so, I won't take a minute.

Ready?

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

There we are.

Now, where are we heading, Mrs. McLeod?

Well, I thought we might go out to the boat house.

It's on the southern tip of Royal Lake.

It's only a mile and a half.

And my name is Korra.

I'm not really Mrs. McLeod anymore.

I was kind of rough on you, isn't it?

Bringing your new boyfriend around all of your ex-husband's friends?

Well, I like it up here.

Rufa's likes to have me.

And they're not all against Paul.

Police, they weren't.

But he's on the defensive so much.

He's going to make enemies of all of them.

Yes.

He's off to a rousing start, I'd say.

Do you know something, Sam?

Mm-hmm.

I don't care about Paul and Scott, really.

Oh.

Or Rufa's McLeod.

Or Tosha's said one.

Or anybody.

I just care about Korra McLeod.

Well, now that's a good honest answer.

You know, most people wouldn't be that prank.

But, Sam.

Then?

I haven't known you long.

Well, I am.

I like your style.

Style?

I could care about you.

Yeah.

It broke my heart, not to stop right there on this trail and kiss her,

because that's what she wanted me to do.

So that's why I didn't do it.

And I'll never turn down anything better.

Well, next scene.

A boat house.

When we got there was not at all the way I thought.

Food technician and close friend of Rufa's McLeod was there,

working on something that baffled me at first.

It's a nice boat, Mr. Spade.

That's what it is.

Long to Rufa's.

Yeah.

I don't think I've ever seen one up close before.

I take you for a ride, but this one needs a lot of work before anybody could use it.

I'm just cluttering.

What prompted you to come out here, Korra?

Because Paul and Tosha's been born, gotten a fight over me,

and I got tired of the whole thing.

Sam and I went out with Sam here.

Well, glad you did.

I was getting a bit launching.

You see, Sam?

They always leave me in a cloud of snow on their skis,

and I just plot along on snowshoes all by myself.

Well, maybe we can go walking together sometimes.

I used to be able to shake a pretty good snowshoe.

To deal.

Tomorrow morning I'll show you the place.

Damn.

I think I'll stick around here and help Charlie with the ice boat.

Oh.

Unless you're crazy about ice boats.

Why don't you go back to the chateau?

We'll be there in time for dinner.

Well, I don't need any engraved in the expectation.

I hope you catch a common cold.

The trouble with that girl was that she only wanted one man

at a time around her.

Back at the chateau there was no one but the cook.

The manager remained part.

Ah, too tall.

As supper time approached, Rufus came in,

then Rita, then Korra, then Allison,

and finally Tosha in that order.

And the order is important.

Because you see, nowhere in the list is the name of Paul Indica.

He didn't come in for supper.

Nor for the next three hours.

It was dark by then and Rufus McLeod was worried about Indica.

So we found out in a searching party.

I was alone when I found them.

He was lying in the snow, 300 yards west of the halfway cabin.

There was a 30-30 slug in it.

Period and the fall Indica.

You are listening to the weekly adventure of radio's most famous detective,

Sam Spade.

This Sunday, Carrie Grant and Betsy Drake star in the second of the new

Mr and Mrs. Blanding series over most of these NBC stations.

The delightful tribulations of Jim Blanding's and his wife, Miriel,

as they built their famous dream house, entertain millions as a novel,

and then as a motion fixture.

And now you can follow the further adventures of Mr. and Mrs. Blanding's

series over most of these NBC stations.

The delightful tribulations of Jim Blanding's and his wife, Miriel,

as they built their famous dream house, entertain millions as a novel,

the adventures of Mr. and Mrs. Blanding's every Sunday on NBC.

And Sunday also means you're a weekly visit with the hilarious heroses

on the Phil Harris Alice Bay show.

And now back to the Chateau McLeod Gaper,

tonight's adventure with Sam Spade.

There were no ski marks near the body of Paul Indicod just his own.

Somebody had drawn a beat on him in the dust from some distance.

I started a look for the rest of the searching party and then changed my mind.

If the body of Indicod wasn't found a murderer might wonder what happened to it,

yet worried and make a mistake.

So I picked him up, carried him to a small cave I found,

covered the entrance with snow, brushed over the ski marks,

and went back to the Chateau.

One by one they all showed up to discover it.

I know how you feel.

It's still dark. We'll try tomorrow.

Oh, don't worry about him.

I can take care of him.

How can you take care of him?

Says Miss Parker if you've got love.

He got lost.

I am assuming.

I think we're all assuming too much.

I'm sure that it's nothing to worry about.

If I know Paul, he'll show up tomorrow with some tall tale to tell.

What do you think, Mr. Spade?

What is an advertising executive know?

Kara, your man is a sponsor.

Might be listening.

Oh.

I'm sorry, Sam.

I'm not sick.

Okay, okay.

Frankly, I don't know what to think.

But if I were a detective, I'd hazard a guest at Paul met with foul play.

Oh, nonsense.

Spade nonsense.

Come on, everybody. Let's have a drink and have some fun.

Paul, I'll be back.

And even if he isn't, who really cares?

Scotch for me.

And I guess nobody cares.

Rufus was a little more jolly than usual, and the drinks began to dispel the glue.

It was a dip.

Paul Indicott never had existed.

It began to get late, and the bizarre wake broke up.

Everybody went to bed, including me.

I lay their fully dressed, looking up at the bean ceiling for an hour.

About then, my door knob turned, and the door slid open and shut.

Someone moved quietly to my bed, as I was sliding my 38 out of its poster.

Sam, me, Rita.

Are you awake?

Yeah, I wasn't even under the covers.

Mind if I said anything.

It's not a bit.

Sam.

Sam, I'm scared.

I wish I could leave here.

What's the matter?

Paul's dead.

I knew he is.

He didn't mean anything to me one way or the other, but I knew he's dead.

Anything to back up your feeling?

I guess not.

It's just something I'm sure of.

Why'd you come to me?

Because you're really a detective, and I know it.

Oh, me?

Oh, now you handle the case for my father one.

You just don't remember me.

All right, I'm a detective.

Rufus hired me because he expected trouble.

Sam, I'll tell you something about Paul.

Yeah.

Paul didn't really like him.

They were always fighting.

She only cares about herself, so she said.

It's only what kind of a car does Paul drive?

It's a yellow convertible, but it's still in the garage.

I check.

Any other cars missing?

No, no.

They're all there.

Oh, and I found out something else.

What?

Before supper, there was a gun missing from Rufus' gun rack.

It's back now.

Anything else?

That's all I know, Sam.

Except that Paul's dead.

I know it.

I wish I'd never come up here.

After she left, I dressed for outdoors

and climbed through the bedroom window.

It was still quiet, and it was a quarter moon

when I'd see it away from the chateau.

I wanted to look the land over myself before the next day

when the clues, if any, were trampled into the snow.

When I passed the northern tip of Royal Lake

on the trail to the halfway cabin,

I saw a new set of ski tracks

heading into the woods

where I'd found Indicott's body.

I followed them, and they went right to the cave

where I'd hidden them.

And he was gone.

I was standing there, pondering this.

When I thought I saw something move in the trees

to the west of me, I stood stacked still.

That was a mistake.

A bullet sprung into the tree next to me,

and I shoved off as fast as I could.

There was no second shot.

I circled around in the trees trying to catch sight of someone.

Nothing.

I kept in the shadows and made for the halfway cabin.

It was dark and quiet, at least until I opened the door.

I tried, but he had the advantage of surprise

and some kind of a club.

I ended up on the floor with someone sitting on my chest.

All right.

I have your gun.

You make one wrong move, spade, and I'll use it.

This guy's bullets in it, and the hair trigger so be careful.

We put you a little light.

As you see, there's Paul Indicott's body.

Yeah.

Why did you find him, Tozer?

They're only putting a new sword on your neck.

You're the very perceiving men, Mr. Spade.

How do you figure I did it?

I taught better on my feet.

Just remember the gun.

If you didn't kill him, how else would you know where the body was?

Because I know this country like the back of my hand.

You had to be somewhere.

Yeah.

You are the killer, Mr. Spade.

Me.

Why, I do not know.

You found the body before anyone else could.

Hit it.

Then clumsily try to hide your track.

I'll be silly.

Why would I come back?

And murder always worries about his crime.

Did you forget something?

Or something left undone?

It's a natural.

It sounds good except it isn't true.

You couldn't pen it on me in a month or something.

But somebody might just tie it on to you.

That's what you think.

Do you know what I'm going to do now?

I wouldn't want to guess.

The shots came pouring in through the window, and Tozer Spenborg went down.

I saw the flash of the face outside and was gone.

I kicked the lamp through the place in the darkness and lay on the floor.

Then I crawled over the Spenborg and took my gun back.

Well, that was a surprise.

It hurt quite a bit.

Where did you get it?

Somewhere in the back.

Let me see.

Ah, it's at the shoulder, little.

Then he won't die anyway.

I'm afraid I'm as judged as the spade.

Go after him.

Go after him and catch whoever it was.

I can't leave you here.

I'll take care of myself.

Just leave me a gun for protection.

No, I'll stay.

Go, please, while there's time.

Or are you afraid?

I was.

When I gave him my gun and left outside, there were many ski tracks.

But a fresh set led left from the halfway cabin down.

They went right to the edge of Royal Lake and then stopped.

There were no marks of ski poles on the ice, so I followed a shoreline

taking for some kind of a clue.

It wasn't until I reached the southern tip of Royal Lake

that my effort was rewarded.

Leading up from the ice for a set of footprints, then a set of ski marks.

They led to the boat house.

Inside, I found two interesting items.

One of dismantled ice boat with fresh ice on the runners.

Two, a pair of skiers with snow in the grooves.

I made my way along the beaten pack back to the chateau.

Several at once found interesting item number three and went in.

Well, what were you doing upstate?

Did you hear the chateau?

Yeah.

I had fun.

What the wrong?

Cool.

I was walking out of a song.

Please, Sam, what was it, you know?

I didn't find out about the first shot, Mrs. McLean.

That was fired at me.

But the next three were fired at a man named Toja Spenborg.

Oh, no.

Toja?

I don't have happened, Spate. What's it all about?

He found endocuts body in the woods.

Dead very.

I told you, Sam.

I told you.

Told him what?

What do you know about it?

Nothing. I just had the ceiling.

That's all.

You know something.

I'll tell you something.

I'll sweat the rinse right out of your head.

I don't know anything.

Anything at all.

I just had a feeling.

Who shot Toja Spenborg and why?

I don't know.

I was standing with him on the halfway.

Got him.

Somebody shot through the window.

Didn't you see them?

Not you know who it was?

I was too busy ducking the look.

Just to answer me, one thing.

Have any of you been out?

Of course not.

No.

I haven't.

And Mr. Allison's in bed.

Of course, they all lied.

A cloud shirt with stained sweat.

He'd been moving fast somewhere.

The ski pants sticking out from under Curry's robe or wet.

And Rita Parker was now dressed when she wasn't before.

I was trying to figure out something to say

when Charlie Allison came out from his bedroom

rubbing sleep out of his eyes and pulling a robe on.

What's going on here?

What's all this excitement about?

They found Paul.

Dead.

Somebody shot Toja.

No.

Where is Toja?

In the halfway cabin.

Let's get him to a doctor.

I'll call one from town.

Why don't you go up and get Toja?

I'll have a car ready and we'll take him right into the Lutheran hospital.

Wait a minute.

What about the murderer?

Who did the shooting?

Nobody's getting out of my sight.

It had to be one of us.

Why, Cora?

Oh, it wasn't just anybody.

We're the only ones left walking.

Why don't you ask Sam?

He's the detective.

Detective?

Yes, I had him because somebody sent me an anonymous letter saying that the trouble.

You knew it was going to be trouble, Rufus.

Somebody else knew.

Then why did you let people come up here?

What's the big party you do?

Wait a minute.

Spade, what did you find out?

Well, if you'll all wait here a minute, I'll tell you.

When I circled the shuttle before I came in, I'd seen footprints leading to a window, not mine.

That meant somebody else used the back way in and out too.

I wanted to find out whose window it was.

And of course, when I was looking, I remember the apparently dismantled ice folk.

And the fact that a set of skis were in the boat house.

It took me about a minute to find the right room.

But somebody knew it.

All right, Spade, stand where you are.

Allison, you might be a great food technician, but you're a lousy killer.

Yeah, well, at least he didn't get her.

I know who you are.

I got him, Spade.

All right, come on, stand up.

Come on.

You sap.

Cora, huh?

You think you could get her by killing somebody?

Shut up, Pliny Elor.

I'm sorry for you.

Sorry for anyone that ever knew her.

I'm sorry for myself.

She loves me a fool.

She doesn't matter.

I was on the speed.

We found our killer, Mrs. McLeod.

Charlie?

Yes, baby.

Oh, Rufus, it's been a long day.

I need a drink.

And that goes to show you how cold it can get in the snow country.

F, period and a report.

Why would a man do anything like that?

When he knew he couldn't get away with it?

Because he was stupid, Effie.

People must have told him a million times

that they told him once crime just doesn't pay.

I'll go and type that up.

Will you?

Go on, scaper and scaper.

Three chimes mean good times on NBC.

Here's news of two important musical events.

This Saturday, our Toro Toscanini begins a new Saturday series of concerts

with the NBC Symphony.

And for his premiere, the celebrated Maestro Toscanini

will present a special hour and a half performance of Verdi's Requiem.

And beginning next Monday, you can hear the first in a new series

by the Boston Pop Orchestra.

I'll type that up.

I'll put the PS page, that is.

What PS page?

Why should it need a PS?

I know that this report, to borrow a phrase from you,

is set up holes.

My phrase?

I wish I'd never said it.

For instance, who set the note to roof it?

Paul Indicott, the expected trouble.

That's why it was so belligerent to everybody.

All right.

I'm going to come right up and ask you.

Good.

Why did Allison kill him?

Well, I thought it was rather obvious, Effie.

Cora was leaving Rufus McLeod for Allison,

but because Allison worked for McLeod

until Cora's divorce was final,

they did more than Rufus to know her by.

So they used Paul Indicott as a decoy love affair.

But Albert Indicott didn't want to get Cora up.

I'll bet that was it, Sam.

Effie, I don't know how you ever guessed.

Indicott saw another chance to pick up a buck

with a little blackmail.

This is just a wild guess, Sam.

Yes.

And of course, Allison did.

Skied, didn't he?

What do you think?

Well, how else could he get around so fast?

And he made such a fight about those snowshoes.

Sam.

Yes?

If I'd written the paper,

I'd have covered that up a little.

Come here.

I'm sorry, Sam.

You certainly should not have.

You know there's only one thing around here

you're supposed to say.

Yes, Sam, I know.

I know.

Okay?

Make it fast.

Good night, sweetheart.

The adventures of Sam Spade are produced,

edited and directed by William Spear.

Sam Spade was played by Stephen Dunn.

Lorraine Tuddle is Effie.

Script for tonight's adventure by John Michael Hayes.

Musical Scoring by Ludd Vlaskin,

conducted by Robert Armbruster.

Join us again next week,

same time for another adventure with Sam Spade.

Do you keep an appointment book

in 1950, 30,000 people

kept an appointment they hadn't bargained for

with infantile paralysis.

And four out of five of these

were helped with March of Dimes money.

We must go on helping,

yet we also must be prepared

for what may come in this year.

March of Dimes is your way

of fighting infantile paralysis.

Give all you can

to your local March of Dimes headquarters.

Join the 1951 March of Dimes today.

The magnificent Montague next,

then its stuffy steward on NBC.