The Phantom Terror
DOC SAVAGE - Deep, cultured, impressive
MONK - Small, shrill voice, pleasantly tough guy.
HAM - Cultured voice, pronounced Harvard accent.
FAN - Deep, hardboiled gal voice.
JOE - Harsh, tough guy voice.
1 - Doc's trilling sound.
2 - Footsteps.
3 - Crashing of brush.
4 - Blows of fight.
5 - Groans.
6 - Motor Car.
7 - Door open and close.
8 - Slow, heavy footsteps.
9 - Thumps.
10 - Slaps.
11 - Machine gun.
12 - Crashing of wood.
SCRIPT BY: Lester Dent (Kenneth Robeson) PLAYING TIME: 13 minutes
Copyright 1998 by the Estate of Norma Dent Doc Savage is a registered trademark of Conde Nast Publications
EFFECT: (TRILLING SOUND)
ANNOUNCER: Listen! What is that sound?
EFFECT: (TRILLING SOUND)
ANNOUNCER: That sound, ladies and gentlemen, is the call of Doc Savage and the signal for another thrill-charged fifteen minutes of drama brought to you by Cystex.
And now, here is mystery, danger, smashing action---another exciting incident from the career of that unusual man who has made a life work of righting wrongs and helping other people out of their difficulties. We speak, of course, of that character who is rapidly becoming famous in fiction .... Doc Savage. Doc Savage has five assistants, five men who help him in his strange work of righting wrongs and getting other people out of their personal jams. We find Monk, a great gorilla of a fellow who looks rather dumb, but who is really quite a clever chemist, walking down a path through a city park. Monk is one of Doc Savage's five helpers. There is no one in sight and Monk whistles as he walks along. Monk has no idea of what the immediate future holds, or he would not be whistling. Listen.
BIZ: (FOOTSTEPS AND HOLD UNTIL CUE TO CUT)
MONK: (WHISTLES FEW BARS OF ANY SPRIGHTLY TUNE, THEN SINGS)Di, de, do, da, dum-de-de-e; said the monkey in the tree.
(WHISTLES FEW MORE BARS)
FAN: Hey, you!
BIZ: (CUT FOOTSTEPS) (PAUSE)
FAN: Hey, you with the long arms!
FAN: You see any other knuckle draggers around here?
MONK: Say, girlie what' s the idea of hiding in the brush?
FAN: Never mind that. Take a look around. Do you see anybody?
MONK: Not a soul in sight.
FAN: Okay, swell. Duck over here, quick.
MONK: Say, what kind of a sucker do YOU take me for?
FAN: Listen, big boy, I want to talk to you. I need some help. Here, I'll hold my hands above this bush. You can see they're empty.
MONK: Yeah. Hold that pose, sister
FAN: Oh! You don't need that gun!
MONK: I ain't takin' no chances on some mug bein' in there with you.
BIZ: (CRASHING OF BRUSH)
MONK: Huh, guess you are alone, at that.
FAN: You don't take many chances, do you?
MONK: I wouldn't be walkin' through the park and havin' good-lookin' gals yell at me, if I took chances. What I mean is that if I took chances, some lad would have popped me off long ago. I know lots of people who are friendly that way.
PAN: You're the one they call Monk, aren't you?
MONK: You know me, eh?
FAN: Listen, it was just luck that I found you, I was cutting across the park see, when I saw you. That was a break for me because I was going to see Doc Savage. You're one of Doc Savage's helpers, aren't you?
MONK: Supposing I am?
FAN: Listen, my brother is lying over here in the park. About three minutes ago, we were taking a walk, and a man with a mask over his face jumped out in front of us. He pointed a funny-looking red box at my brother and it made a buzzing noise and my brother fell over. The man ran. And now there's something wrong with my brother. He just lays there with his eyes open and can't move. He's alive. He's breathing. But he's all still.
MONK: Why didn't you call an ambulance?
FAN: Because of what the man with the red box said.
MONK: Yeah? He said something, did he?
FAN: He said that if I called the police, my brother would die.
MONK: What else did he say?
FAN: He said to wait until I heard from him. Then he ran.
MONK: This sounds kinda fishy, sister.
FAN: Oh, I know it's hard for you to believe. I can't understand it myself. That's why I started across the park. I was going to take a taxi downtown and ask Doc Savage for help. He makes a specialty of strange things like this, don't he?
MONK: Doc would eat this up, all right.
FAN: Then you'll get him to help my brother?
MONK: Ah-h-h, I dunno.
FAN: (DESPERATELY) You won't turn me down, please! I thought Doc Savage made a business helping people out of trouble.
MONK: He does.
FAN: Then let's get hold of him.
MONK: Wait. I want a look at this brother of yours first.
FAN: He's over here.
BIZ: (FOOTSTEPS) (BRUSH CRASHING)
MONK: Whew! This brush is thick.
BIZ: (CRASHING OF BRUSH)
FAN: Here he is. See how he lies there. He's rigid, stiff, but he's alive.
MONK: Yeah. Say, this is queer.
FAN: Maybe if you would look at him...
MONK: Okay. I'll get down on my hands and knees... What's his name Miss?
MONK: Listen, Joe, can you hear me. (PAUSE) Blink your eyes, old fellow, if you can hear me. (PAUSE)
BIZ: (BLOW) (GROAN)
FAN: Grab him, Joe.
BIZ: (TWO MORE BLOWS)
JOE: That'll hold him.
FAN: Boy, did I do a good job.
JOE: You sure did, Fan. Cracking the sap with the blackjack when he bent over to have a look at me was a swell move.
FAN: You should have heard the story I told him before that. I fed him some stuff about a man jumping out of the brush and pointing a red box at you, and after that you fell over stiff. (LAUGHS) Ha, ha! He swallowed it!
JOE: Grab his feet, Fan. We've gotta get him to the car.
FAN: Ah, he's heavy!
BIZ: (SOUND OF MOTOR CAR STARTING, RUNS FOR A TIME AND FADES OUT) (PAUSE)
BIZ: (DOOR OPENS) (SLOW HEAVY FOOTSTEPS OF PERSONS CARRYING A WEIGHT) (THUMP OF MONK BEING DROPPED TO FLOOR) (DOOR CLOSES)
JOE: That's that.
FAN: Listen, Joe, do you think there's a chance of anybody finding him here?
JOE: In this old shack? Not a chance!
FAN: Watch it, Joe, He's coming out of it.
JOE: Blamed if he ain't. Maybe slappin' his face'll hurry him.
MONK: (DAZED) Hey-uh-hey---hey--- What's the idea? What'm I tied up like this for?
JOE: Why do you think?
MONK: Take these ropes off! Untie my arms and legs, guy!
JOE: (LAUGHS) Hah! I'll be likely to do that, after the trouble we took to get you.
MONK: So you pulled a fast one on me! That stuff about a guy with a red box was phony.
FAN: Just a piece of my imagination, short and handsome.
MONK: Aw, rats to you, sister!
JOE: Get yourself over to that table, Monkey, You're going to write a letter.
MONK: How can I move when I'm tied up like this.
JOE: Here, lemme have a hold of you.
BIZ: (FOOTSTEPS) (THUMP) Here, Fan, take this gun and watch'im. I'll get the paper and pencil out of the car.
BIZ: (DOOR SLAM)
MONK: Listen, sister, what' s the idea back of this?
FAN: Shut up! You'll find out when Joe gets back.
BIZ: (DOOR SLAM)
JOE: Here you are, Monk... a pencil... and some paper. Now, write what I tell you.
MONK: Listen, what are you two up to?
JOE: I'll tell you, Monk, old pal. Did you ever hear of Chuck Anderson?
MONK: Chuck Anderson? Yeah, I heard of him.
JOE: You know what happened to him don't you?
MONK: Yes, the same thing that is liable to happen to you. He was a crook mixed up in the rackets. He went to the pen a few weeks ago when Doc Savage started cleaning up the rackets.
JOE: Yeah. Chuck was a pal of mine. Now do you see?
MONK: Trying to got even with Doc, huh?
JOE: Yeah. Ain't you the mind-reader. Now before you start writin', take a look through that window. What do you see?
MONK: Through the window.... Well, I see two towers of a radio station in line with this shack.
JOE: That' s the idea. Now, you write this message: (SLOW) Held for ransom, Doc. In order to save me, we are sure going to have to take it slow in every way. You'll hear from me. And sign it. Wait! Wait! Don't start writing yet.
MONK: You said to write the message.
JOE: I know, but there's a catch to it. I want you to separate certain letters. Make the "RA" in ransom separate, and the "D" in Doc. Separate the 'T' in "in" and the "o" in order. Write it that far. (PAUSE)
MONK: There it is.
JOE: Now separate the word "TO" so that it stands out, and the word "WE" and the "R" in and the "S" in sure. Now... the "In" in going... the "L" in slow, that word "IN," and the "E" in every. Now finish it, and read the letters you separated.
MONK: I'll be daggoned!
JOE: It's a message within a message, big boy. Read what them separated letters spell out.
MONK: (READS) Radio... towers... in ... line.
JOE: Bright boy! Go to the head of the class. You got it the first time.
MONK: Then this isn't a ransom snatch.
JOE: You guessed it. This Doc Savage is plenty smart. He'll see that message right off, and he'll come out here to rescue you, thinking we were dumb enough to let you slip the message in without our knowing it. And will we be waiting for Doc Savage when he comes. Will we! With a machine gun, big boy! That'll pay Chuck's debt, I guess.
FAN: Joe! Joe!
JOE: Well, what's eatin' you!
FAN: You told me this snatch was to be for money! I didn't know--
JOE: Aw, you wouldn't have gone through with it if you had known!
FAN: You're dam right I wouldn't have! Now listen, Joe!
JOE: Shut up! I'm running things my way, see! You pipe down!
FAN: I don't want any killing...
JOE: You'll like what I say. Here, take this and mail it! And I'll be watchin' you, sister, from the door.
FAN: All right, all right! (AWAY FROM THE MIKE) But I don't like it!
EFFECT: (PAUSE TO DESIGNATE SCENE SHIFT TO DOC'S OFFICE)
BIZ: (DOOR SLAM)
DOC: Hello, Ham.
HAM: Good evening, Doc. Jolly warmish, I must say. Anything going on?
DOC: No, Ham. Not exactly.
HAM: By the sound of your voice, Doc, I should say something is going on. What is it? As one of your five assistants, do you think you should tell me?
DOC: It may not be anything. Monk was due here two or three hours ago. He has not shown up, and he usually is prompt.
BIZ: (DISTANT THUMP)
HAM: What was that, Doc?
DOG: The morning mail, probably.
HAM: I'll get it.
BIZ: (DOOR OPENS) (DOOR CLOSE)
HAM: (ABSENTLY) Just the usual stuff... some scientific circulars... a letter from the Police Commissioner thanking you for your work in putting Chuck Anderson behind bars... and here is one with your name printed in pencil... Oh, I say!
DOC: What is it, Ham?
HAM: Oh, I say! Read this, Doc!
DOC: (READS) Held for ransom, Doc. In order to save me, we are sure going to have to take it slow in every way. You'll hear from me. And it's signed "Monk."
HAM: More infernal trouble! By Jove, Doc! Notice how some of the letters are separated from the words.
DOC: Yes... they seem to spell words... Radio towers in line.
HAM: Well, I'll be jolly well knocked flat! Monk managed to give us a clue to his whereabouts! Come on Doc, let's look over the radio stations!
HAM: Where are you going Doc?
DOC: Into the laboratory for a moment. You wait there! (PAUSE)
BIZ: (DOOR SLAMS)
HAM: Well, what did you do in the laboratory?
DOC: Never mind that now, Ham. Let' s get going.
HAM: We will examine points from which the towers of radio stations can be seen in line? Is that it?
DOC: That is it... exactly (AWAY FROM MIKE) That should not be such a great job. Hurry, Ham.
EFFECT: (PAUSE TO INDICATE SCENE SHIFT BACK TO SNACK)
JOE: Aw, sit still will you?
FAN: Listen Joe, please don't go through with it.
JOE: Shut up!
FAN: You're dead set, Joe?
JOE: You said it.
FAN: Then I'm walking out of here. I wash my hands of it.
JOE: No you don't! You stick right here until it's over!
FAN: I won't! Get your hands up, Joe.
JOE: Why, you doublecrossing cat...
FAN: (SCREAMS) Oh! You're hurting my arm!
JOE: Try to pull a gun on me, will you! Get over in that corner and stay there!
MONK: Better let him alone, sister. He's kill crazy.
JOE: Pipe down, you! I'd let you have a slug of lead now if it wasn't that I might need you to write another note in case that first one didn't do the work.
MONK: Aw, rats on you, too.
JOE: Quiet, quiet! I think I hear a car!
BIZ: (DISTANT MOTOR CAR DRAWS A TRIFLE NEARER AND CUT)
JOE: It's Doc Savage's big sedan. The curtains are down. That little dude of a lawyer, Ham, is driving. Doc, must be in the back... Ham is reaching back to open the door... Now, in a minute, I'll let this machine gun speak her little piece...
MONK: (YELLS) Doc, Doc! Watch out!
JOE: Blast you! Well, you yelled too late!
BIZ: (MACHINE GUN) (CRASHING OF WOOD) (BLOWS OF FIGHT)
JOE: (YELLS) Ow-w-w, oh!
MONK: Doc, Doc, grab him!
BIZ: (BLOWS OF FIGHT)
DOC: I believe that will hold him.
MONK: Boy, it oughta! Was he surprised when you came in through the back door! He thought you were in the sedan.
DOC: There is no one in the sedan but Ham. He drove up to hold attention while I came in through the rear.
MONK: So you got my secret message, Doc.
MONK: I don't mean the one made up out of the separated letters.
DOC: I know which one you mean... the one written with invisible ink on the notepaper.
MONK: That's it. I got a piece of the chalk that we use for secret writing under my fingernail and Joe, here, never noticed. It was sure lucky that I had a chunk of the chalk in my watch pocket when they got me.
FAN: Chalk... invisible writing!
MONK: Sure. We always carry the stuff. It comes in handy.
DOC: Who is this girl, Monk?
MONK: Her? She's the girl who... ah... she's the one who got me into this... only she didn't know it was to be a kill party. You see, I think, well... I think...
DOC: You think what?
MONK: I think we'd better turn her loose. She tried to help me later on.
DOC: All right, young lady. You can run!
BIZ: (RAPID FOOTSTEPS) (DOOR SLAM)
MONK: I'll bet she sticks to the straight and narrow for a while. I don't think she was really bad.
DOC: She was rather attractive too.
MONK: (CHUCKLES) Yeah. Maybe that had something to do with it, too.
ANNOUNCER: Doc Savage and his group of five assistants have their own brand of justice, it would seem. Tune in next week for another exciting quarter hour with this unusual man and his aides who employ the most modern of scientific methods in their unusual work of combating those who are outside the law. These dramas are presented with the permission of Street & Smith, copyright owners of Doc Savage Magazine, and written especially for the makers of Cystex, who bring you this program.