And now, tonight's presentation of radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
Tonight, we bring you a story of two men forced to live together in the frozen north.
We call it, A Study in Wax.
So now, starring Mr. William Conrad and Mr. Stacey Harris, here is tonight's suspense
play, A Study in Wax.
It was late October when the radio shack burned down.
We never did decide whose fault it was.
Maybe Cabell with his cigarettes, maybe me.
Anyway, I guess the whole thing began when we lost the phone transmitter and receiver.
Cabell and I had been set up to the northwest territory by the Canadian Geodetic Survey
people.
It was a long job.
And the biggest part of it for Cabell was the loneliness.
It wasn't that he was moody or anything like that.
I think he wasn't used to being out of touch with people and things he was accustomed to
in the cities.
Now, I was the opposite.
I kind of liked the loneliness.
As a matter of fact, now that I think about it, we were a strange couple to hit it off
the way we did.
And when you got seven months to spend alone with another man, well, you got to be sure
of each other.
And we thought we were, until after the radio was gone.
That day it burned, we stood in the snow watching the embers glowing and the whiffs of smoke
rising into the cold sky.
It's gone.
Well, we still got the code sender, just in case.
I'm going to miss the programs though and the music.
You know, I tell you, we could send a message to the base if you like and ask them to fly
out another receiver.
Oh, oh no.
You know, McCloud, he'd boil, waste the money, probably take it out of our pay.
I wouldn't do without it.
That's all right with me.
Well, you're a hearty soul.
You know, I don't think you'd mind if you had to stay alone for seven months.
It'd be dull.
I wouldn't have anybody to beat a chess.
Say Jack.
Yeah.
If it was my cigarette that burned the shack, I'm sorry.
Ah, forget it, forget it.
I may have done it myself.
Forget it.
By the end of November, we'd done pretty well as far as work was concerned.
But Cabell was getting jittery.
We had a weak stretch where we couldn't move out of the camp.
It was around 30 below outside and blowing 60 miles an hour.
Cabell had read most of the things that we'd brought along and was sitting at the table
trying to beat a solitaire game.
I was all in my gun.
Now the odds are against you over time.
Don't I know it?
Oh, how I wish this weather would ease off.
Yeah, well.
Hey, I got an idea.
Now what?
What do you say we open our Christmas presents tonight?
Our Christmas presents?
It's November.
I know, I know, but I'll bet there'll be some books in there.
I told my folks to pack some books.
Now, well, what'll you do when you've finished them?
I don't know, but I gotta do something.
I wish we had the radio.
Look, we can send a message.
If McCloud wants to cut our heads off for burning up his property, he'll have to come
up here to do it.
If not, well, maybe he'll be feeling good and send it.
It's worth a try.
It's not you, Jack, we talk, play chess, it's swell, but I just miss the outside.
I feel...
Yeah, yeah, I know, I know.
Okay, how would this sound?
Radio shack burned to ground.
Can you send new receiver?
Have only small set on fixed channel.
Well, couldn't you say emergency?
Oh, that'd go over big with McCloud.
We Miss Canadian and US Mystery shows must continue to hear them in order to keep up
our work.
Uh-uh, we better leave it as it is.
All right.
Well, here we go.
Now McCloud's gonna love this.
The reply from McCloud came back the following day.
It was long involved and said what could have been said in one word, no.
You know, our chief was a very careful man and believed in others following his example.
Therefore, if our radio was gone, it was our fault and the next time we should be more
careful.
And that was that.
The weather let up a bit and we got some work done.
It was still terribly cold, but it didn't bother us now that the wind had gone.
I noticed that Cabell was much quieter after our request for the radio had been turned on.
I began to get a feeling as though he blamed me for it.
So a week before Christmas, we'd just finished supper.
I said, Larry, about those Christmas presents.
What about them?
What do you say we open them, huh?
Well, I thought you didn't want to until Christmas.
Well, I've changed my mind.
Oh?
What's the matter?
You want to be nice to me?
I can take this as well as you can, you know.
I don't need you feeling sorry for me.
I'm not sorry.
I don't give a good stink one way or the other.
I'm just saying if you want to open the packages now, it's all right with me.
They're yours.
It's not my business.
Oh, forget it.
Do what you want to do.
Well, will you open yours up too?
Sure.
Okay.
He got a hammer and started to pry open the case.
Our families and friends had done their shopping in August, and we put their gifts together
in the case.
And at the sight of those colorful wrappings, Cabel began to smile.
He was back in touch again.
They were little things, but a label, a scratch of handwriting, the feel of something different
was blotting out his loneliness, that great far coldness outside.
Come on over.
Okay.
It doesn't feel like books.
They wouldn't pack them like this, would they?
I don't mind.
Hey, look!
Hey, look!
Look what we got!
What is it?
It's a phonograph!
Here, I'll take it.
And there's a whole stack of records.
They must be...
Oh, of all the lousy, crummy luck.
Oh, what's the matter?
Look, they're broken.
Oh, that's a shame.
All of them?
No, no, wait a minute.
There's one.
There's two of them, okay?
Oh, what?
Oh, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
There's two of them, okay?
Oh, that's good.
Listen to this, Willie.
A variety of bugle calls.
What?
No, I mean it.
A variety of bugle calls.
Look, it belonged to my father.
I remember him playing it for me when I was a kid.
Oh, well, what's the other one?
Oh, that's great.
Sabre Dance, Catch a Train.
It's one of my favorites.
Oh.
No Less Brown or anything like that, huh?
No.
Just the...
That's right.
I'm not talking about you.
You don't much like classical music, do you?
No, not much.
Oh, that's okay.
Come on.
Let's take a listen to that bugle call thing, huh?
That ought to be something.
Okay.
Oh, wait till I tell my sister about that fancy packing job of hers.
I've heard that one a thousand times.
Oh, those good old army days.
Now, Willie, here's the next one.
They got a lot of laughs out of the old record.
Played it a couple of times and then had a couple of drinks.
You know, I tell you, that phonograph, even with only two records, it made a lot of difference
to us.
The strain seemed to be gone.
Then Cabell put on his Sabre Dance and got lost in it.
Well, to me, it wasn't much.
It was all cluttered up with a lot of noise that hurt your ears.
He must have played it a half a dozen times while we unwrapped the rest of the things.
There were a lot of books and magazines and that was good.
I figured we could stretch him out for at least three months, which would take us into
March.
But the next day turned bad again.
A blizzard came down.
And we stayed inside until the day after Christmas.
And Cabell, he was like a kid.
He smoked cigars, drank brandy, listened to his record and read.
In ten days, he'd read every single thing.
Then he had nothing to do but listen to his record.
Oh, that's great.
Look, you're not going to play it again.
Just this one part.
Look, I don't mind not listening to it for a while.
Try the bugle calls.
They're quieter.
You ought to learn to appreciate good music, Jack.
You're missing something.
Well, maybe I will, but not from that.
No, this is beautiful music.
Well, not to me.
Now, will you let it go for a while?
Sure.
Sure, if you feel that way about it.
How about a game?
No, no, not right now.
Thanks.
I want to finish this article I'm reading.
You're reading?
Oh, yeah, I read that.
It's not much.
That guy never could write.
Oh?
Well, I think it's pretty good.
Well, it depends on what you're used to reading, I guess.
And what kind of a crack is that?
Nothing.
It just depends on what you're used to reading, that's all.
Does that make me a lowbrow?
You said it, I didn't.
You better check the oil outside.
I did it yesterday.
It's your turn.
Uh-uh.
I did it this morning, and this weather,
we do it twice a day, remember?
Yes, sir.
Are you trying to be funny?
No, I don't like the way you said it, that's all.
We're both in charge, not you or me.
Nobody gives orders his.
We share the responsibility.
OK, then do your share.
All right.
All right, I'm going out to check the oil,
but not because you say to do it, you know,
but because I want to.
Well, good for you.
When I think of it now, we sounded like a couple of kids.
And I can't even remember what it was that set us off.
But I'll never forget what happened because of that day.
You don't easily forget a thing like death.
You are listening to A Study in Wax,
tonight's presentation in radio's outstanding theater of thrills,
suspense.
This is a new sound in the history of mankind,
the sound of atomic energy.
The crackling comes from a model atom smasher,
similar to large models used in treating deep-seated cancer
and sterilizing foods and drugs.
The sounds like this one and the stories behind the sounds
are the subject of CBS radio's current program series
called The Age of the Atom.
The peaceful uses of atomic energy
open endless possibilities for us all.
Hear them discussed by leading atomic scientists and specialists
from all over the world on CBS radio's
Age of the Atom program series,
now being broadcast by most of these stations.
Consult your local listings.
And now we bring back to our Hollywood sound stage
Mr. William Conrad and Mr. Stacy Harris,
starring in tonight's production, A Study in Wax,
a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
Cabell and I didn't talk to each other for the next few days,
not the way we used to, I mean,
just conversations was necessary to do our work, and that was it.
He didn't play his record either.
New Year's Eve day, we got a couple of messages
through and code from our families,
and I guess we both felt pretty bad.
Cabell was trimming the oil stove
when I decided to try to make things up.
Say, Larry.
Yeah?
Look, about that business the other night, I'm sorry.
It's my fault.
We were kind of silly, you know?
Yeah.
Probably just as well we had to bust up then.
Still three months to go.
Three long months before the show.
Yeah, no.
Oh, well, thanks for not playing the record.
It's okay.
Oh, I wish that wind had stopped.
It gets in my nerves.
You know, I got something good for that.
Oh, what's that?
Something that toasts the New Year.
Champagne!
Hey, what an idea.
That's wonderful, Jack.
We'll stick them outside for a couple of minutes.
Yeah, give them to me. I'll do it.
Oh, that's cool out there.
You know, the best thing for you and me to do tonight
is to get roaring, stinking drunk.
Champagne with brandy, Chase.
Happy New Year, Larry.
Same to you, Jack.
We got drunk.
We got red-eyed drunk.
Now, we talked about women and ourselves and our dreams.
And it was sloppy and it was great.
The kind of haze you get when it doesn't matter
and you're feeling good about everything.
And it was fine.
Until Cabell decided it was time to hear some music.
Jack, I want you to really listen to this.
Really listen.
This is Constitutory.
That's Constitutory. Now, he makes them all look sick with this stuff.
I want you to listen to it.
No, I don't want to hear that thing.
Now, don't put it on for me. I don't want to hear it.
I know, but if you just listen once, give it a chance.
You don't have to listen now.
Come on.
There.
See the rhythm?
That's great. That's great music.
That's really great.
Listen, music's a lot of noise.
Don't tell me to shut up.
You don't understand good music. That's what's the matter with you.
You just don't understand.
I understand. I don't want to listen to that.
Well, I want to hear it.
Now, don't take it off, Jack.
You take your hands off me or you're going to get hurt.
Just stay away from the machine, Jack.
Get out of my way.
Hey, don't get pushy, friend, huh?
No.
I'm going to kick your brains out for that.
I'm sick of you and your filthy music.
Don't touch that record.
Now, you take a good listen.
Because you're not going to hear any more of this again.
Not as long as I'm here.
Put it down, Jack.
I made it.
I'll put it down or I'll shoot you.
Put it down.
If you don't, I'll...
I'll shoot you and I'll put the record down.
I got sober.
I might never have had a drink. I was so sober.
Cabello had reached up for one of the holsters that hung near the door.
And he wobbled to his feet.
The gun held tightly in his hand.
There was blood running out of his mouth and down his chin.
I just stood there.
And I put the record down on the turntable.
You were going to break it, weren't you?
Weren't you?
Yeah. Yeah.
Well, I knew you were.
Just because it gives me pleasure to listen to it and you don't like that.
Well, I want to listen to it and you don't.
All right?
You get outside.
You're crazy, Cabello.
Go on. I'll kill you if I don't. Now get outside.
It's 40 below out there. I'm freezing.
I don't care. It'll do you good. Now go on.
Get outside.
All right. Let me get my things.
No!
Listen to me, you're drunk. You don't know what you're doing.
Open the door, you hear me?
Now go on. Open it.
Now go on out.
Larry.
Let me in, Larry. Do you hear me?
Let me in, Larry.
And inside I thought I heard the music again.
He was crazy. Crazy drunk.
I went around to the back trying to get away from the wind, but it wasn't any good.
There wasn't anywhere to get away from it.
I've seen what happened to men caught out in the open this way,
and I knew how quickly it could happen.
So I ran and I jumped.
Anything to keep moving.
And all the time I couldn't believe it was happening.
I don't know how much time went on.
Maybe it was a minute, maybe it was ten.
Larry!
Darkwater!
I heard him calling.
Then through the flurries of powdered snow blowing off the roof,
I saw Cabell standing in the doorway.
And I saw the gun still in his hand hanging by his side.
Jack!
Jack, come on in, Jack!
I forgot the cold.
I only knew that Cabell had gone mad.
He was going to kill me.
Somehow I had to get him away from the cabin,
get him outside where I'd have a chance.
I waited for a minute and then...
Larry! Larry, over here, Larry!
Jack!
Over here!
I knew he'd heard me.
And I saw him move out from the doorway.
Where are you?
Can you hear me? Where are you?
Over this way. Here.
And I moved back behind a hammock.
I thought I might be able to make a wide circle
and then double back to the cabin before he knew what was happening.
I can't hear you, Jack!
Jack, are you hurt? Where are you?
Larry! Larry!
And the wind burned my eyes so that I couldn't see.
And I tripped and fell and my hands bare
didn't feel the coldness of snow any longer.
Jack!
Jack, can you hear me? I'm over here!
He must have seen me.
Jack!
He was closer now, close enough to shoot.
And I tried to run, stumping, falling.
And then it was easier.
I was going downhill, but he was behind me.
Jack!
Jack, come on, Larry!
And then there was something different
in the feel of the ground under me.
Jack!
It wasn't ground anymore, not snow.
It was ice.
I had reached the shore
and I was going out under the frozen sea.
I began to imagine that I could feel the movement
of the sea under me.
Suddenly it didn't matter anymore.
I didn't care.
I couldn't run. I wanted to lie down.
I wanted to lie down.
Jack, take it easy. It's all right.
Jack, it's going to be all right.
You don't have to be afraid.
Look, you can have the gun if you want.
Jack!
When it happened, Cabell was no more
than eight feet away from me.
I just lay there, watching,
waiting for him to shoot.
And the dark ribbon that split the ice
grew wider and wider.
Jack!
Jack!
A semicircle of ice had cracked away.
It wasn't very big and it was drifting out,
away, away.
And the ribbon was no longer a ribbon.
And at that moment I knew that he
hadn't wanted to kill me. I'd been wrong.
Jack!
Jump!
Larry, jump in and swim!
Now come on, you can make it!
Come on, Larry!
I can't swim!
Come on!
I can't!
Try, you've got to try!
Now come on, hurry!
I want to do the jiu-jitsu, John!
Larry!
I want to do the jiu-jitsu!
I want to get your back in the ground!
He moved away faster after that.
John!
And then I couldn't see him anymore.
He was lost in the blackness.
But I could hear him.
Oh, Lord, I could hear him.
Jack, I don't want to die!
Jack!
Help me!
Somehow I got back to the cabin.
And I remember getting the transmitter switched on,
sending a message through.
I got the flashlight and my furs on.
I don't know how long I was down there on the ice,
shouting, rocking.
But I knew he was gone.
I'd never see him again.
But in the gray morning the planes came.
And for two days they searched
until the weather forced them back.
And that was all.
They flew me back to the hospital.
Maybe I'll lose my hands, maybe not.
They're not sure yet.
It doesn't matter anyway.
Suspense, in which Mr. William Conrad
and Mr. Stacy Harris
starred in tonight's presentation of A Study in Wax.
Next week, the story of a man who found that murder
was not the only way out of his problem.
We call it The Beetle and Mr. Bottle.
That's next week on Suspense.
Suspense is produced and directed by Anthony Ellis,
who wrote tonight's script.
The music was composed by Leith Stevens
and René Garagin and conducted by Wilbur Hatch.
Listen while you work.
Heard him in the morning,
heard him in the evening,
heard him in the evening,
heard him in the evening,
heard him in the evening,
heard him in the evening,
heard him in the evening,
heard him in the evening,
heard him in the evening.
Listen while you work.
The studio network.
The studio network.