And now, Auto Light and its 60,000 dealers and service stations present...
Suspense!
Tonight, Auto Light brings you Fibber McGee and Molly in...
The Six Seat Driver, a suspense play produced and directed by Anton M. Leader.
Say, Harlow, looks like Old Home Week on suspense tonight.
Old Home Week, half?
Well, I wouldn't say that, not with millions of Auto Light resistor spark plugs finding
new homes in every make of car in America.
I know, Harlow, I meant Old Home Week because...
Perhaps there just isn't going to be any old or new home for more and more narrow gap spark
plugs because they're being replaced in their old homes by wide gap Auto Light resistor
spark plugs.
With Auto Light resistor spark plugs, your car, my car, Fibber's car, everybody's car,
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There's one way for every car to be spark plugged right with Auto Light resistor spark
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Only Auto Light offers car and truck owners everywhere the sensational advantages of the
resistor type spark plug.
And now, Auto Light presents Fibber McGee and Molly in a tale well calculated to keep
you in.
Suspense.
It can't happen to you.
You read about stuff like that in the papers.
Golds murdered and mutilated, drunks left dying in the gutter for the handful of change
they had in their pockets, lonesome old men tortured because some hoodlum gets the idea,
their misers with a pot of gold hidden under the floorboards of the shack.
Sure, you know it's real, but it can't happen to you.
Oh, you get your fair share of trouble.
I've been a professional man here in Los Angeles for 30 years.
I've met up with bums and grifters and petty sharpers.
They're around in any business.
But the viciousness, the real deep down dirt, that's for somebody else.
You do your work and go home to your family.
And for a real bang up evening to break the monotony, you take your wife out to a movie.
That's what I did that Saturday night.
We'd driven all the way in from the San Fernando Valley to Beverly Hills for a picture Ellie
especially wanted to see.
Wasn't that a good movie, Joe?
Just the kind I like.
Bums and dancing and girls in pretty clothes.
I get so tired of cops and robbers.
What's wrong with cops and robbers?
Oh, you know what I mean.
Murder movies.
Honestly, all the policemen stupid and all the crooks sneering out of the corners of
their mouths.
Yeah, the stuff those Hollywood boys dream up.
You think the streets were knee deep in blood and you couldn't hear yourself think for machine
guns.
Well, here we are, honey.
You get in first.
All right, Ellie.
Well, now just a second.
All right, Joe.
Don't forget the gas.
I got plenty to take us out to the Valley.
I'll fill up at bills.
Do you remember how that song goes, Joe?
What song?
The one the boy sang to the girl.
Oh, that one.
Let's see.
Oh, heck, I don't know.
Oh, well, we'll be hearing it again on the radio.
How about turning it on?
The radio?
Yeah.
Sure.
Set her around 1100.
We ought to get some news in a few minutes.
I'd like to hear whether they caught that fellow.
That awful mass murder?
Uh-huh.
They spotted him in LA this afternoon, but he got away.
I know.
You told us at supper.
It makes you shiver.
Don't worry.
He won't get away with it.
We left the lights of Beverly Hills behind and turned into Coldwater Canyon.
It's as quick a way as any to get us across the Hollywood Hills to the Valley.
It's dark in the canyon, quiet, with mighty little traffic at night.
I cut my lights up full and we swept up the side of the ridge.
News program came on, but I didn't pay much attention.
I was talking about brush fires.
They'd already put out one near my place, though they were still patrolling it.
We were over the ridge and sliding down to the valley before the program got to the part
I wanted to hear.
There it is.
Pick it up higher, Ellie.
And now the latest news on the New Hampshire murderer.
Two weeks ago, Louis Matric wiped out an entire family in Greenlee, New Hampshire.
Today he was spotted 3,000 miles from the scene of his crime.
At 5.30 this afternoon, a patrolman saw and definitely identified Matric in downtown Los
Angeles.
He is here.
However, by darting through heavy traffic at the risk of his life, the killer was again
able to make his escape.
According to neighbors of the slaughtered family, Matric first appeared in Greenlee
about a year ago.
From fingerprints in the Nolan home, Louis Matric has been identified as Lloyd Matthews,
ex-convict.
He is wanted for questioning in the robbery and murder of a New York storekeeper a year
ago.
Oh, my.
A crime that netted the killer less than $20.
Can you imagine?
Matric, or Matthews, is 32 years old, height 5 feet 9 inches, weight 155 pounds.
He has blue eyes, light brown hair, nose slanted to the left.
When seen this afternoon, he was wearing a blue suit and a gray pork pie hat.
He...
Awful.
Not pretty, no.
And he's somewhere around LA this minute.
Joe?
Hmm?
You think it's right us leaving Annie and Bud all alone while...
No, Ellen.
Annie's grown up and Bud's a smart youngster, if I do say so myself.
You can't wrap kids in cotton wool.
I know.
Oh, I'm silly, I guess.
Neighbors close all around.
All they'd have to do is yell.
But what would make a young man do a dreadful thing like that?
Could be a lot of things.
Maybe he's got a screw loose.
Maybe he went nuts over a girl.
Maybe he gets a kick out of killing like some...
You know all the answers, don't you?
Oh, Joe!
Hey, what the...
Keep going.
Go on, keep going.
I got a gun here and I'll use it.
Tell him you...
Ellie?
Against the back of my neck.
I can feel it.
Cold.
Well, are you gonna move?
Okay, brother, you're the boss.
You said it, I'm boss and remember it.
Otherwise I'll blow a hole through your wife's head.
I've had experience in these things.
For suspense, Auto Light is bringing you Fibber McGee and Molly in Radio's outstanding
Theatre of Thrills Suspense.
Harlow, I've got to run.
My wife Mary just called up and said someone stole our Auto Light Resistor spark plugs
right out of the engine of our car.
Gosh, Hap, I didn't know they were that precious.
Skip along.
So long.
Oh, that Mary.
What a girl.
She's beautiful.
I said to Hap the other day, she's got everything an Auto Light Resistor spark plugs got.
Hap comes right back and says to me, has she got a 10,000 ohm resistor?
Does she save me gas and money, Harlow?
And then right away he says, tell me this, does Mary improve radio and television reception?
Well, by Cornelius, I couldn't stand it any longer.
What's Mary got to do with that?
I cried.
Nothing, shouts the triumphant Hap.
Right, I shout back, but by Cornelius, those sleek, slim, trim, smart, swift, starting
Auto Light Resistor spark plugs have.
When it comes to plugs, even mine, there's no plug as good as a set of Auto Light Resistor
spark plugs.
And those wonderful wonders are made by the Auto Light Company, the marvelous makers of
spark plugs, batteries, complete ignition systems, and over 400 automotive, aviation,
and marine parts.
And now, Auto Light brings back to our Hollywood soundstage, Fibber McGee and Molly in Backseat
Driver, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
I drove that car like we were skirting the rim of the Grand Canyon with nothing between
us on the bottom but a mile of country air.
This was it, the thing that happens to other people, to the ones that end up on slabs in
the morgue, but not to me, not to Ellie.
First car we'd seen since we left traffic swooped down behind us.
We'd passed, but not before the headlights caught our passenger clean in my rearview
mirror.
He was hunched forward sitting on the edge of the back seat so he could keep the gun
rammed into the nap of Ellie's neck.
He had light brown hair, pale eyes, and a nose that slanted.
His mouth twitched, jittery.
As the car went by, his eyes caught mine in the mirror and flickered.
Keep your eyes on the road.
Sure, sure.
Lose your hat?
Bright boy.
Like I said, you know all the answers.
No, I didn't lose it.
I stuffed it down a drain.
Still wearing the blue suit, though.
I figured it changed pretty quick now.
Think yours will fit me?
You can have the suit and the car.
Ellen, Ellen.
Joe, it's Matric.
The mistress is bright, too.
He crawled in here while we were in the movie.
Joe, you should have had the car door fixed.
You know better.
Honey, I meant to.
I was going to tend to that tomorrow.
Shut up.
I'd see if you can both be bright enough to keep your trap shut.
Turn left on Ventura.
Take the slow lane.
And don't try playing no tricks.
I've been in this burg before.
OK by me.
That's real fight of you.
Straight out the open country, Mac.
Then I'll take the mistress up on that offer of the suit and car.
What happens to us?
Why you just walk home.
What else?
Play it safe and you ain't got a thing to worry about.
That was a laugh.
That was nothing to worry about.
That'd kill you.
Once we got out into open country, we'd have a chance of walking away from the car.
All a murderer can hope for is time.
He doesn't leave witnesses around to get the law on his tail one second sooner than necessary.
All I could do was stall and pray and make what feeble gestures I could at Lady Luck.
That thing that came into my mind was so risky it brought my hair up on end.
But there was a chance, provided that trigger finger didn't start jerking.
In the bright lights of the boulevard, I didn't think he'd notice, but a traffic officer would.
I turned into Ventura and took the far lane, obedient as a whip pup.
Must have made two or three miles before I heard what I was hoping for.
What's that?
Huh?
Oh, the siren?
Why, an ambulance, I guess.
We hear a lot of them here.
That ain't no ambulance.
It's a motorcycle cop.
Joe, it's young Mike Kennedy.
He patrols this stretch.
What are you up to?
What are you trying to pull?
Nothing.
The kid's a friend of mine.
Think you can get me easier?
Well, I warned you.
I ain't going alone.
You ask for it.
Listen, listen, will you?
The kid lives near us, practically grew up under our feet.
All he wants is to pass the time of day or maybe send a message to our Annie.
Yeah?
Yeah.
You start popping now and we'll all be dead.
Keep your shirt on and I'll get rid of him.
Okay.
But it better be good.
I pulled to the curb and Mike came up alongside.
He sat balancing the bike between his knees and the grin on his face was a mile wide.
It had worked.
At least we were still alive and Mike wasn't two feet away.
But where did we go from here?
I had to think, but my brain was wet wool.
My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth.
Well, what do you know if it isn't Uncle Joe?
Something funny, kid?
After all the times you've read as the riot act about observing the letter of the law.
Oh brother, wait till I tell Annie.
Mike Kennedy, what's the matter with you?
I didn't notice anything wrong.
Hi Aunt Ellie.
Nothing much of the matter.
Just Uncle Joe here proceeding sedately out the Boulevard with his headlights up full.
Headlights?
My golly, that's right.
I must have forgotten to dim them.
You oughtn't to forget those things, Joe.
Someday a big bad cop might come along and haul you off to the state.
Hey, is that Annie back there?
No, no it isn't.
It's our new neighbor, Mike.
Mr. Anderson.
Oh, that right.
Glad to meet you, sir.
Hello.
I didn't know there were any vacancies out our way.
Well, there weren't until recently.
Mr. Anderson has taken over the Charles place.
The Charles place?
Are you kidding?
No.
Looks like things got too much for old man Charles at last.
He's clearing out for good.
Kind of sudden, wasn't it?
I guess so.
Well, that's too bad.
For old man Charles, I mean.
Mighty nice for Mr. Anderson, though.
Good places are hard to find these days.
All right, Uncle Joe, I'll let you off this time.
Give my love to Annie.
Mike!
Watch it!
Yes, sir?
Uh, nothing.
Just come see us soon, boy.
Always glad to have you.
Thanks.
I'll be around my next night off.
I got a date with Annie.
So long.
That was that.
Mike turned his bike and headed back down the boulevard.
The chance had come and gone.
But it felt to me like half my mind went off with the boy yelling at him.
Must have been half a minute before I could pull myself together and ease back into traffic.
Nobody said anything.
I didn't dare to, and neither did Ellie.
I couldn't see her, but I could feel her holding herself stiff as a ramrod, scared even to
turn her head.
When two people have lived together as long as we have, each one knows what the other
one is thinking.
I went back to driving and praying.
That and cutting my eyes up to the mirror, just in case there might be a white motorcycle
eye following us.
There wasn't, of course.
Back in the back, I knew he was watching too.
Those flickering eyes darting like lightning between us and the rear window.
He was too busy checking to talk.
Not that that helped much.
Rage and fear were pouring out of him so thick you could have grabbed a hunk of the atmosphere
in your hand.
It was queer to drive along like that on the crowded highway, traffic streaming both ways,
lights from drugstores and cocktail joints and eating houses blazing to the sky.
And to know if I lifted a finger for help, I'd sign our death warrants.
It had to be luck, all luck.
There was still a chance I'd get it.
The way I figured it, we'd started out with just about enough gas to get us back to Bill's
station.
When we hit that, the meter ought to show empty.
Gas gauge was hidden from me by the rim of the steering wheel, but I was pretty sure
I was right.
I waited until I saw the red and green lights above Bill's pumps a block and a half away.
And very slow and easy, I slumped over for a peek at the gauge.
I leaned just too far.
Shut up.
Sure.
What now?
What were you looking at?
I was just easing the crick out of my neck.
Yes, you was.
You was looking at the dash.
You...
Oh, so that's it.
Fresh out of gas.
Look, I just remembered...
Don't give me that.
You knew it all along.
From now on, you keep your hands on the wheel, Mac, but leave me to the driving.
Turn into that filling station.
Get high test gas and fill her up.
Hi, Joe.
Hi, Bill.
Evening, Ellie.
Hello, Bill.
Oh, evening, sir.
Up to the top?
Yeah, Ethel.
Ethel it is.
Here you have been to the pictures, huh?
Uh-huh.
You people know everybody in the whole valley.
We've lived here 30 years.
From back when this was just farmland, of course we know lots of people.
I don't like it.
Get the gas and get out.
Say, I was up to Miranda's for supper.
Is that right?
Oh, boy, her chili gets better every time.
Don't you have any?
But it does.
She's saving some for you.
Said you'd be around after the show.
Oh, my, I saw Miranda this afternoon and told her we'd be by for sure, Joe.
That'll be 350 on the nose.
Three and 50.
Thanks, Bill.
Same to you.
What was all that about?
Nothing much.
Come on, come on.
I got to ask you everything twice.
Miranda runs a drive-in up the road a ways.
On show nights, we usually drop in for a carton of chili to take home.
I just hope she won't call home when we don't show up and get Annie all worried.
Wait a minute.
Drive-in, you said?
Yeah.
And this Miranda could start checking on you?
I didn't mean it like that.
It's just...
She could call your Annie and between the two of them, they'd have the cops on the lookout
for you before midnight.
You're crazy.
Like a fox.
I ain't kept ahead of the buttons all this time by taking chances.
We'll just pick up that chili, Mac.
You want to go to Miranda's?
Why not?
Leave Annie get her beauty sleep.
I can cover a lot of ground before tomorrow morning.
I ain't eaten so good lately, I could use the food too.
And with you and the Mrs. DeFront for me, what's to worry about?
He was right about that.
I went back to driving and praying.
Miranda's place is one of those goldfish bowls.
Mostly glass with light pouring out across the space mark for outside service.
She saw us pulling up, grabbed a quart carton off the back shelf and hustled to the door.
Here you are, Ellie.
I was just saying to Betsy, you better fix up that chili, Betsy.
It's about time Ellie and Joe was showing up, figuring the distance from Beverly Hills.
Thank you, Miranda.
Who's that in the back seat?
I don't seem to recollect your face, young man.
Though anybody will tell you, I never forget a face.
This is Mr. Anderson, Miranda.
He just came out here from the east.
Oh, is that a fact.
Say Joe, you plan on going straight up Ventura home?
Sure, why?
Don't you do it.
Go the back way, even if it does take longer.
Of course the brush fire between here and your place is out.
But there are still 50, 60 men patrolling it.
What's that?
Oh, but that ain't nothing to what's going on further out the valley.
That new fire's clean out of control, licking up hundreds of acres.
They've been sending truckloads of firefighters past here all evening.
And the road's blocked for miles, they tell me.
The road's blocked?
For miles, they tell me.
And all them poor ranchers losing their homes.
Being from the east, you wouldn't understand.
But brush fires is awful things once they get out of...
Thanks.
Start moving.
We'll take the back way to your house.
To our house?
What's they?
Oh, you staying with Ellie and Joe?
Yeah, until the road's...
Until I can get into my own place.
What are we waiting for?
Night, Miranda.
Well, goodbye.
Be sure you come see me, Mr. Anderson.
I'll be looking for you.
So there it was.
We weren't going to the country.
We weren't going to be left to rot at the foot of a cliff or buried deep in brush.
No, we were going home.
Home to the kids.
Taking a murderer with us.
I still couldn't see Ellie, but I could feel her tensing up.
Tight as a pulled drawstring.
Mr. Matric, you...
You didn't mean what you said, did you?
About coming home with us?
You know a better place I can hide out till the road's open?
But it wouldn't be safe.
We've got neighbors close all around.
If somebody sees you...
Nobody'll see me.
Nobody better.
Joe, couldn't we get around the fire?
Yeah, that'd be better. We could try.
There are other roads through the valley.
Listen, Matric, we'll nose around and find a way through somehow.
Cut it out!
You heard the old biddy. Hundreds of acres burning.
Firefighters, cops.
Get off the highway. We're going home.
No, no, I won't have it.
Joe, you stop the car right here.
Shut up.
You heard me, Joe. I won't have him in my house, not with Annie and Bob.
I said shut up!
For Lord's sake, Ellie.
It doesn't matter about us, but the kids. I won't let him...
One word out of you!
Joe, stop!
Ellen, hush!
Oh, Joe!
Don't say another thing.
I'm sorry, honey. Matric's the boss.
We've got to do like he says.
That's telling her.
Sure, do like I say and everything will be rosy.
You've got no call to worry about the kids. I like kids.
As long as nobody gives me the brush off.
We'll wake them up soon as we get home.
And you and this Annie can fix up a chilly supper for us.
We'll have us a picnic.
And then, as soon as the fire's out, we'll all take a trip to the country.
Another picnic, huh?
You keep going.
As long as you're breathing, you keep going.
Even when it looks like there's no way out, you hang on by your toenails.
We poked up and down those black valley streets that twist and turn
and sometimes wind up in dead ends.
Ellie stopped crying after a while.
She slumped down with her head rolling on the seat back,
limp as a rag doll with the stuffing leaked out.
It took a long time, but it had to come to an end.
I saw the bulk of the house looming up.
There was light sneaking around the edges of the blinds up in Annie's room.
She wasn't asleep after all.
She'd be sitting up in bed, maybe plastering red stuff on her fingers
and dreaming about the date with Mike.
The budget room was dark.
He'd be wrapped in covers like in a cocoon and dreaming.
Whatever boy's dream, I couldn't remember.
I pulled up to the concrete walk I'd poured with my own hands
before there was any Annie or Bud.
I cut the lights.
In a second or two, my eyes got used to the dark.
I could make out the high heads Ellie planted around the place
and the roof rising up beyond it.
Out, missus. Face the house.
Now you, Mac, slide out the same side. Stand beside her.
Walk to the door. Slow and no funny business.
I'm right behind you.
Look out, Joe!
What now? No! I'll kill you!
Hold him, boys.
It's okay, Mike. Got him.
You all right, Uncle Joe? Aunt Ellie?
Ellie. Ellie, honey. You all right?
All right, indeed. Smack flat on my face on a concrete walk
and you falling on me.
Nothing wrong with her.
That's my girl.
Well, don't just stand there. Help me up.
Here you are.
Oh, I've got to get in the house before the kids come busting out here.
I won't have them mixed up in this.
Well, how's he doing, boys?
Got him through the gun hand on the right shoulder. See?
A lucky shot, copper. If you weren't lucky, you'd all be cold meat now.
Maybe. Matric, isn't it, Uncle Joe?
That's him. Miranda scribed him to you, eh?
The old girl didn't miss a trick.
She even knew you were taking the back way home.
You left a clear trail, Uncle Joe. Slick work.
I had to get him out of the car before the fireworks started.
Ellie didn't stand a chance.
She helped, though. Ellie catches on quick.
How bad?
A mean guy like Matric.
Make him think you don't want to do something and he'll break his neck doing it.
I let on. I was trying to run out of gas.
That got us to bills.
Then we both made out there was no sense going to Miranda's,
so we got bullied into going to Miranda's.
It was a thousand to one.
She'd run off at the mouth about the brush fires and scare him into hiding out.
After that, all Ellie had to do was turn on the hysterics.
He was dead set on coming here.
Bright boy, like I said.
Bright enough. You did all right, too, Mike.
I was watching the rearview mirror all the time you were tailing us,
but you never showed.
You knew I was there, though.
When one officer starts double-talking another officer, he wants to know why.
Officer? Double-talk?
You never said a thing to him except that I'd bought some place out here.
Yeah, the Charles place.
Poor old man Charles.
In a tough spot and moving out for good.
What's wrong with that?
Matric, didn't anybody ever tell you it wasn't smart to take up with strangers?
Maybe I'd better introduce myself.
The name's Charles.
Joe Charles.
Detective. Homicide.
Tonight I was off duty and was just taking my wife to a movie.
MUSIC
Thank you, Fibber McGee and Molly, for a splendid performance.
Why, thank you.
Thanks very much, bud.
We're not used to doing a show with a gun stuck in our backs.
No.
We're used to doing them with Jack Benny breathing down our necks.
And vice versa.
But that guy over there, he looks familiar.
Why, dearie, that's Mr. Wilcock.
Old Waxey himself, the guy that sells Johnson's wax on our Tuesday show.
Not Waxey on Thursdays, dearie. Sparky.
Sparky, eh? Well, what do you know?
Hey, Junior!
Hello, Fibber. Hello, Molly.
Hello, Mr. Wilcock.
Say, you two were terrific tonight.
Tell me, did you drive over from Westville Vista?
Uh-oh. Molly, I'm afraid to answer that.
Because if you did, I hope your car had auto light resistor spark plugs.
See what I mean?
And listen, pal, if I were you, I'd stop and see an auto light service man on the way home.
That old bull's of yours.
Listen, Waxey, I mean, Sparky, you don't have to tell me where to stop.
I stopped on the way over.
Why, those masterful miracles of manufacturing magnificence...
Oh, now, McGee, McGee, that's Mr. Wilcock's story.
Let him tell it.
Well, what Fibber means is that auto light parts are original factory parts.
Auto light parts and service and your car go together like McGee and Molly,
Happ and Harlow, Amos and Andy.
So when you replace worn out parts, visit your auto light service station
or the dealer who sells your make of car and ask for original factory parts and service.
Leading cars use them all. Auto light makes them all.
Be right. Get auto light parts and service.
Just a minute, Fibber and Molly. Don't go away.
Oh, that's right. You want us to say that word?
If you please.
Oh, yes. Well, go ahead, McGee.
No, you say it, Molly.
Well, why don't we both say it then?
Okay. Well, I know you're going to want to hear radio's outstanding theater of thrills next week
because Charles Lawton is going to be on the program.
Yes. And in a famous story by John Collier called Demortius.
And it's another gripping study in...
Suspense.
Tonight's suspense play was by Sally Thorson with music composed by Lucian Morrowek
and conducted by Ludd Bluskin.
The entire production was under the direction of Anton M. Lieder.
In the coming weeks, suspense will present such stars as James Mason, Jane Wyman and many others.
Make it a point to listen each Thursday to Suspense, radio's outstanding theater of thrills.
And next Thursday same time, hear Charles Lawton in Demortius.
You'll find auto light service stations listed in your classified telephone directory
under automotive electrical equipment. You're right with auto light.
This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.