And now, tonight's presentation of radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
Tonight, the story of how perhaps the smallest of items can be the cause of unbelievable
terror and hardship.
In this case, the lack of a little loose change.
So now with Harry Bartell as Clark, here is tonight's Suspense play, Chicken Feed.
All right, it was a silly thing to fight over, I admit it.
A nickel, a measly worthless nickel, Chicken Feed.
Junior asked for a nickel and I flipped it over to him and Mary said I shouldn't spoil
the kid.
It was time he learned the value of money and I said, great Scott, if I couldn't give
my own child a nickel without her jumping down my throat.
Oh, you know how those things get going.
You keep saying things you shouldn't and she lashes out with an answer and before you know
it, you've stormed out of the house and you're taking it out on the car.
Fifty miles cooled me down a little, but not much.
I automatically slowed up when I came to the sign.
You are now entering Lansing, California.
Go slow and see our town, go fast and see our jail.
Going through the quiet Sunday street gave me time to think of something besides the
biting words Mary and I had slugged at each other.
I pulled up at a little cafe next to the police station.
It had a whitewashed sign on the window.
Best cup of coffee in town for five cents.
I went in.
I resent that officer, Brady.
Too over easy, Sam, heavy on the pride.
What's yours, mister?
Coffee, please.
Coming up.
Here you are.
Thanks.
Say Officer Brady, how's your star boarders?
Well, Phillip, they're coming for him in the morning.
Think you'll be able to hold him till then?
You got out of that Bennington jail like a paper bag.
Don't worry, sister.
Phillip won't get out of this one.
I listened to them with half an ear while I sipped my coffee.
There was a stack of the local papers nearby and I pulled one over to look at.
This Phillips was on the front page.
Bank robber.
Killed a teller.
He had a face I wouldn't want to run into.
Close.
After a while, the hot coffee made me feel better.
Maybe, maybe I'd been at fault as much as Mary.
She wasn't the only one who had a bad temper.
On a sudden impulse, I left my coffee and went over the phone on the far wall.
I heard the dial tone, then I fished in my pocket for change.
It was empty.
Say, Miss, could you change a dollar for me?
I want to use the phone.
Yes, sir.
Hmm.
What's the matter, Mister?
My wallet.
I seem to...
Look, I'll be back in a minute.
Mary wasn't the only one with a temper.
I'd stormed out of the house without changing the contents of my pockets to the suit I was
wearing.
I didn't have a dime on me, not a nickel.
I rummaged in the glove compartment.
Mary sometimes left a coin purse, but this time, naturally, it wasn't there.
What seems to be the trouble, Mister?
Oh, officer, I seem to have come off without my money.
Embarrassing.
Yeah.
I didn't realize it until I tried to phone.
Where's your driver's license?
It's in my wallet in San Francisco.
Got any other identification?
Well, the registration slip on the car.
That's the car.
What about you?
Look, officer, I'm Ralph Clark.
Clark and Jacobs in the Hatfield building.
We're attorneys.
Kind of far from home to be without any dough, aren't you?
Well, I came out of the house without changing the stuff into this suit.
You know how that happens.
How do you happen to have the keys to the car?
I don't take them out when it's in the garage.
Say, you don't think...
Where you had it for?
I know it sounds funny, but nowhere, really.
You see, I had a fight with my wife and I just batted out of the house to cool off.
I'll tell you what, Mr. Clark.
Suppose we just mosey over to the station.
Station?
Say, what is it?
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
Just next door and you can call your wife from there.
I don't see why that's necessary.
If you just lend me the money, I could call here and reverse the charges.
We'll go.
You can leave the car here.
I'll take that key.
Now, look here, officer.
I don't get...
Move.
Come on, move.
Hi, Jim.
What do you got this time?
Tell you better after he makes a call.
Give me the phone, will you, Rod?
It's out of order.
Went there half an hour ago.
Yeah?
I reported it.
They said they can't have a man here before tomorrow.
Well, did you tell them this is a police station, for Pete's sake?
Sure, I told them.
Not bad, though.
We get incoming calls.
We've still got the nickel snatcher over there.
Here's the pay for them, Mr. Clark.
You can make your call from there.
I don't have any money, remember?
Oh.
Okay, here's the nickel.
A nickel?
That's all it takes in this town.
Jerk water, please.
Let me speak to your wife when you get it.
This is gonna sound fine, just fine.
She'll think I've really tied one on.
Operator.
Operator, I want to call San Francisco.
Fillmore 60098.
And reverse the charges, please.
Thank you.
Your number, please.
This is 460.
I have a collect call from Lansing, California, for Fillmore 60098.
Will you accept it?
Lansing?
Well, I don't know...
It's me, Mary.
Take the call.
Oh, it's you, isn't it?
What do you think you're doing, 50 million?
Will you accept the call, madam?
I should say no.
With a very high dear.
Mary, wait.
Hey!
I'm sorry.
The party will not accept the call.
Look, operator, get her back, will you?
This is important.
I'll ring them again.
Swell at the sweetheart.
She's there, the little...
Why didn't she pick up that phone?
Your party doesn't answer.
Oh.
No soap, huh?
Hey, they kept our nickel.
Let me have another one, will you?
I'll get hold of my partner.
He'll identify.
Look, we've wasted enough time.
Come on in here.
You're locking me up, right?
What's the big idea?
I'm holding you on suspicion.
Suspicion of what?
Defrauding the cafe, for one thing.
And I want to check that car.
You think I stole it?
It's been done.
Oh, now wait if you let me fall...
You're entitled to one call, you've had it.
Now look here, officer.
Inside.
Jail.
Jail all on account of a measly nickel, a lousy, stinking nickel.
I...
You mean you ain't even got a nickel?
No.
You see, gee, that's too bad, ain't it, Pete?
Sure is.
Wish we could help you out.
Maybe we can.
Have you got a nickel?
Sure.
I've got three of them.
Will you lend me one?
Just one.
What's it worth to you, chum?
I'll send you ten dollars.
Pie in the sky.
Hey, my wrist watch.
What's the matter with it?
Nothing.
Nothing's the matter with it.
It's worth fifty dollars.
Here, you fool, look at it.
It's yours for five cents for one measly nickel.
What can you lose?
Is it hot?
You mean stolen?
Of course not.
What are you offering it for a nickel for?
I want to get out of this filthy place.
Oh, so you don't like our company, is that it?
No, ain't that just too bad.
What do you think of that, Mr. Phillips?
You don't like it.
Have you got any nickels, Mr. Phillips?
I followed his glance.
For the first time I saw deep in the gloom of a locked cubicle the face that I'd seen on the front page of the newspaper.
The face I'd said I wouldn't want to run into.
Close.
Well, it was close, and I was glad there were bars between us.
Mr. Phillips here, he's a big shot.
Robbed four banks and broke out of two jails.
Killed a man, too.
Sure, we're just fags.
But Mr. Phillips, he's going to the hot seat.
They're coming to get him and take him back to Utah and burn him.
Ain't that right, Mr. Phillips?
Mr. Phillips don't want to talk about it.
Mr. Phillips don't want to talk about nothing.
Mr. Phillips ain't very sociable.
Just like this.
Now, look, fellas, I want to get out of this jail.
Here, take the watch and give me that nickel, huh?
Tell you what, I'll match you for it.
Match me?
Yeah, nickel against the watch.
Well, take it or leave it.
All right.
Leave Pete Ho the watch.
I'll flip the nickel on the floor.
You call.
Heads.
Tails.
I win.
Hey, wait a minute.
Get your foot off it.
How do you know it's tails?
It's tails, ain't it, Pete?
Sure, it's tails.
Here's the watch, then.
What is this?
Watch this, brother.
Well, you're not going to get away with this.
Get out of here.
Get out.
Ow.
Don't kick me.
Hey, what's going on in there?
Officer, there ain't nothing.
This new guy is acting up as all.
Quiet down in there.
Get up.
I can't.
You're trying to get us in trouble, huh?
No.
Look, fellas, for heaven's sake.
Shut up.
Okay.
Kangaroo.
I'll be the judge and you'll be the prosecutor, huh?
Yeah.
Maybe Mr. Phillips will be defense attorney.
You want him, Mr. Phillips?
He don't want him.
If he doesn't know at the bar, stand up.
I don't stand up.
Now, cut it out.
I...
All right, counselor.
What's the prisoner charged with?
Your Honor, this man is a desperate criminal.
He's charged with breaking into jail,
insulting his fellow boarders,
poor sportsmanship, and fight.
A very dangerous character, Your Honor.
Yeah, guilty on all counts.
Prisoner, have you anything to say
before I pronounce sentence?
No?
Okay.
I fine you five cents.
Hand it over.
You know I haven't got it.
Can't pay, huh?
Well, then, you can work it out.
Rate it one cent a day.
Your first job will be to shine the court shoes.
Shine your own shoes.
Oh, so it's gonna be like that, huh?
Hold him slim.
Officer!
Officer!
The pack's down in there.
All right.
Now get on them shoes.
The next hours were unadulterated agony.
It was unbelievable the filthy and human jobs
they could think up for me to do.
And with every move I made,
I could feel the glittering steely eyes of Phillips,
the silent man in the locked cage next to me,
following me, weighing me.
Then he winked at me and nodded his head as old as Sigel.
And then his two huge arms came through the bars
and thrust me reeling across the cell,
and I fell and hit my head.
And that's all I remember.
You are listening to Chicken Feed,
tonight's presentation in radio's
outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
Every Thursday night on Night Watch,
a CBS radio police recorder goes right along
in the prowl car with actual police.
There's nothing added to the truth,
nothing subtracted from it,
when Night Watch tells its stories.
Don't miss it later tonight on most of these stations.
And now we bring back to our Hollywood soundstage
Harry Bartel as Clark,
in tonight's production of Chicken Feed,
a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
I don't know what time it was,
two or three in the morning,
and I felt a stealthy touch on my shoulder.
I opened my eyes, I was still on the stone floor,
and Phillips was bending over me,
holding a revolver.
You fool, you want to wake them punks?
Get up quick.
I glanced quickly at Phillips cell.
It was open and so was the door to mine.
We walked to the front desk.
There bound and gagged securely Sergeant Ross Claredance.
Eh, which is the key to your car?
This one.
Take it and let's move.
Where's the car?
Over there.
You drive.
Well, we made it.
Them hick bulls, they panic me.
Guy could spring that crack with a hairpin.
You nearly done a fine job of louching things up.
What happened to you getting thrown in a can
in the middle of the day?
They picked me up on suspicion.
Well, it wasn't supposed to be till midnight tonight.
What?
And all that phony kid stuff about the nickel.
The nickel?
Yeah.
All you had to do was slip me the word that Jerry Nickel sent you.
Served you right the way them lusher's treated you.
Jerry Nichols.
Nichols.
He thought I was an accomplice
sent by a partner to help him break jail.
And all my screams about a nickel had been nothing but a signal to him.
A signal that I came from Jerry Nichols.
Jerry got the hideout set up?
Uh, yeah.
Where is it?
The hideout?
The hideout.
We're going to Jerry's place first, right?
Then what?
Well, I'll take you to Jerry's,
and then he'll take over from there.
How far is it to Jerry's?
Well, it...
Hey, look behind you.
What's the matter?
There's a car following us without lights.
Where? I don't see...
What the...
Say, what's the big idea? You trying to cross me?
Go ahead, get it started.
It's flooded.
I'm getting up. Let car pass.
You make for the other side, and no tricks.
Just to make sure I'll take this key.
Remember, no tricks.
I had made myself a chance when I took it.
I slipped out of the car on the other side and ran.
Across the field until I could run no more.
After an interminable two miles, I found a road.
And after a while, a dark shape loomed up before me.
A gas station.
And through the glass, I could make out the outline of a telephone.
I tried the door.
It was locked, of course, but I found a tire iron and sprang the latch.
I ran to the phone and almost threw myself on it.
Before I saw it, it was a payphone.
In a rage, I shook the black box.
There must be some money in this room.
My eyes focused on a battered desk.
There was some change in it. I took a nickel.
Number, please.
Kept me San Francisco. Sutter 15994.
Thank you. There may be a slight delay, sir.
I'll hold on. But hurry, operator. It's important.
One moment, please.
I waited.
Far down the road, the headlights of a car juggled over the rise and aimed toward me.
I hung up the receiver, closed the cash drawer, snapped the lock on the door.
Then I crouched beneath the desk.
Open up! Hey!
I've tried to wake that geezer before. He sleeps like a dead man.
Hey, Gary!
All right, all right. I'm coming.
Who is it?
Randy and Ross. Open up.
Well, you're a fine bunch of cops running out of gas in the middle of the night.
Hey, come on in. It's chilly with the door open.
Phillips broke jail.
What? Well, you don't tell me.
Hey, how'd he do that?
Well, there was two of them. He had an accomplice. Said he was a lawyer.
He found their car abandoned on the road back at Ferris' Hopfield. Ran out of gas.
He can't be far away.
There was a big reward for Phillips after he broke jail at Bennington, wasn't there?
Yeah. A thousand dollars.
Hey, you know him, don't you? You were in the Bennington Polk when he did that break.
Yeah. Yeah, we was roommates for a night. I was pretty scared.
How'd he do it, the break?
Well, I don't know. I was sleeping it off. A thousand dollar reward, huh?
Don't you go getting any ideas now. That Phillips is a killer, and so is his partner most likely.
Well, I ain't exactly helpless myself. Got me a nice little fella in my side here.
You take my advice, chum, and put the gun away.
Now show up here, you talk soft, and let us do the capture.
Sure, sure. I'll play safe.
Well, we'll be going. Just wanted to alert you, Jerry.
Yeah, well, thanks. So long, boys.
All right, you, come out from under that desk.
Mr.
Come on out, I say. This gun's mighty nervous.
And get your hands up and stand over there.
Look, mister, I...
I'll do the talking. Who are you?
You've got to believe me, I'm not a criminal, I'm a lawyer.
Oh, yeah, you must be that other one. Hey, keep them hands up.
Now where's Phillips?
I left him in the car. Now that's another thing. You can get the reward.
I know who he's going to meet, and they're going to a hideout.
I see, yeah. Who's he going to meet?
Somebody named Jerry Nichols. There. Now if you'll let me get to that phone, I can clear everything up.
No, you don't. You stay right where you are.
But that's my partner, my law partner in San Francisco. I only broke in here so I could phone him. He'll identify me.
You don't believe me?
Yeah, I believe you all right.
Then what? Answer it yourself, you'll see.
Not on your life, mister, will you think I'm out of my mind?
But you've got to answer it, Jerry. You don't know what I went through to place that call.
You can't just stand there...
Jerry. You're Jerry Nichols.
Yep, that's right. So you see it...
Jerry! Jerry!
Hey, turn off that light. It's Phillips.
You stand over there where he can't see you. Now go on.
Jerry!
Come on in, Phillips.
Hey, ran out of gas and that...
Oh, Jerry!
Yep, dead or alive. I just made me a thousand dollars.
You're worse than he is.
Shut up. Maybe I can get a reward for you too. A small one.
I could feel the bullet landing my side just below the belt in the avenues of pain spread out like the cracks in a hammered window glass.
But somehow, strangely, it didn't stop me. I kept moving toward him. He backed away surprised.
He was aiming for another shot when we grabbed him.
Jerry! Jerry!
I got the gun and he got my through. He fell backwards over the chair and I was on top of him.
As we thrashed around on the floor, I brought his hand up suddenly and smashed his own gun.
Hit him!
And he lay still.
It was hard. He was alive. I got up gasping for breath.
And then I realized that I was all right. Yet he'd shot me. Hit me.
I should be lying there on the plank floor instead of that grotesque heap in the shapeless flannel nightgown.
I felt my side where the bullet had struck. Brought my hand away.
There was no blood on it. There should be blood.
I dodged the spot again. Fingered the contour of something small and round.
I pulled it out of my watch pocket. Battered where the slug had struck it. Bet almost double.
Nickel. Nickel. On the twentieth part of a dot.
All a man needed to buy a cup of coffee. To make a phone call. To pay a fine in a kangaroo court.
To save his life. And I'd had it all the time. I'd had it all the time.
I'd had it all the time.
I'd had it all the time.
Hello?
I have your party now in San Francisco. Shall I connect you, sir?
Yeah, but first, get the Lansing Police Station with you, operator.
Lansing Police?
Yeah. Shut up, Jerry. You're gonna live. I'm gonna be in court with you.
Yeah, I wouldn't give a plug nickel for your chance.
Suspense. In which Harry Bartel starred as Clark.
Crime photographer is now heard Friday nights on CBS radio.
Tomorrow, marking his move to the new night and time, Casey tackles a tough assignment.
Confronting a corrupt political boss, a beautiful redhead, and the wayward son of a respected cop.
In his efforts to crack a protection racket rooted in the city.
Don't miss Crime Photographer in action tomorrow night against crime and criminals.
Next week, the simple tale of a woman who finds herself accused of murder.
And yet has no remembrance of either the act itself or the person she is said to have killed.
We call it lost.
That's next week on Suspense.
Suspense is produced and directed by Norman MacDonald with music composed by Lucian Marloweck and conducted by Lud Bluskin.
Chicken Feed was specially written for Suspense by Lawrence Goldman.
Featured in the cast were Clayton Post, Jack Crouchon, James Nusser, Vic Perrin, Edgar Barrier, Michael Anne Barrett, Larry Thor, and Eleanor Tannen.
Mary Clooney sings Thursday nights on the CBS Radio Network.