And now, tonight's presentation of radio's outstanding theatre of thrills, Suspense.  So now, starring Torrin Thatcher, here is tonight's suspense play, The Digger. Was not a tall man, not over five foot seven, but the attitude of determination he had acquired the day before, when he had unexpectedly sighted his quarry, seemed to have added at least a foot to his stature. As a result, he walked through the dirty, narrow streets of the native section that morning, without incident. No one blocked his path, no one cursed as he passed by. When he had walked approximately six blocks from the river crossing, where he had had to park his car, he turned into a small, open doorway. Dear Bonner. It's the place they call Winky's boy. Dear Bonner. Where's your head man? Thank you, and go be. Sir, you do not wish to drink here. There are many places better for gentlemen to cross the river. I didn't come here to drink. What other reason could you have for honoring my establishment, sir? Well, I'm told you rent rooms upstairs.  No. Sir, you have been misinformed. Now, please you go, huh? Then you don't have rooms here. Only two, sir, where my family and close friends may rest. So you would... I suppose he could be a close friend of yours by now. Who, sir? The man I'm looking for. I've got a job for him. No one here seek work, sir. Well, let him tell me. But I am telling you, sir. Now, look, yesterday afternoon I caught a glimpse of him in the marketplace, and since then I've spent quite a bit of money to learn that he's staying here. He's tall, has a bad leg. Are you willing to spend more money, sir? I am. You sit down, sir. Rest yourself. In Gobi. Yes, mister. You will see if anyone know the man this gentleman seeks. Uh, what is his name, sir? Fabian. Roger Fabian. They used to call him the digger. Upstairs in a small musty room almost directly over Carton's head, Fabian sat on the edge of a narrow cot. He had aged in the past two years. His stomach had soured, and he had grown thin so that now he scarcely resembled the man once known as the digger. For several weeks he had heard that someone was asking questions about him, trying to track him down. And several weeks ago, if he could have paid Winky what he owed, he would have left this place and gone north. But he never seemed to have enough money, so now he waited, knowing the man would find him wondering what the man wanted. Near Fabian, standing at the window combing her hair, was a woman about 20. She turned toward the door when in Gobi knocked. Yes. Who is there? In Gobi. What do you want? Mister, say, Buona, come. A man here to see him. Tell him I'll be... No. Now tell him to come up here. Dear Buona. Well, what's the matter with you? You will have to go away. Now where'd you get an idea like that? You do not eat, and at night when you are sleeping you cry out.  You have been hiding. What you were hiding from has found you. Now it'll take you away. Good thing you don't make your money telling fortunes. We'd starve. Carton! What are you doing here? Hello, Digger. Come in, come in. You sit here where it's clean. I'll squat on the floor. Tisha, get us a drink. Say, what would you like, Carton? Nothing for me, thanks. Still a bit early. You sure? Yes, quite. Well, if you won't mind, I... Hurry it up, Tisha. Would you like a cigarette? Very much, thank you. Here, I have a light. You're hard to find, Digger. Oh, so you're the one that's been looking for me, eh? I'd heard someone was. Mm-hmm. Been a long time, hasn't it? Two years. Two years, seven weeks. You haven't forgotten. Could you have? I don't know. It depends on what rarely happened down there. I told the court of inquiry what really happened. Yes, of course you did. How long have you been living here? Long enough. I suppose you know how it looks. You know how it feels. Oh, I'm sorry, old chap. I didn't mean to...  I couldn't get a job after I left the mine. Not a job, anyway. I tried for over a year before I gave up. Oh, sorry. Yes, everybody's sorry, including me. Poor old Digger had a bit of a rough go, didn't he? Took 30 men down with him. Things got a bit touchy during a cave in, and... and only old Digger makes it back topside. You know, the mine was closed right after that? Yes. Should have been closed before. It was already worked out. Well, perhaps not, Digger. They've opened it up again. They what? I received a letter from Sandy McGregor. You remember him? Sandy, sure. Now, look. He'd gotten some backing somewhere. Found tracings for another vein, most likely. Well, anyway, he asked me to look you up. He wants you to come back. And seeing you like this, well, naturally, I think you should. No. No, no, I couldn't. Not at a border. Well, what happened wasn't your fault, man. I know it, but no one else does. Well, Sandy must have, he wouldn't have made you a firm offer. How much? Five thousand. Five? Well, why not? There's no other engineer in the union knows that mine as well as you do. No, it's like my belly. And you've had experience with the natives up there, too. What's that got to do with it? Well, nothing really, but... Well, after they cave in when they decided it'd be too dangerous to recover those bodies, the natives put some... Oh, they put some sort of a silly taboo in the mine. Hmm. Five thousand, eh? That's right. Now, what do you say, Digger? I say no. Oh, but good heavens. Man, you carton, I have nightmares. I see those men trapped down there waiting for me, expecting me to come back, to come back and lead them out. You won't get rid of your dreams in this pest hole, Digger. Believe me, it'll help to go back. Any things don't work out, man, you... Excuse me, please? Well, that's about time. Where's the drink? Mister, say no more without money and what you owe. Well, now imagine that carton. And I only owe the few lousy quid. Imagine that, will you? Digger, I purchased a truck for McGregor. Now, someone's got to drive it up for him. Now, if you like, I can have it at the river crossing tomorrow morning. I don't know. I'll get you out of here. Maybe your last chance. It would be better. What? It would be better for you to go back to this place. Oh, you've been listening. Seems she cares more about you than you do for yourself. Dear Buena, is it true? Well, let me have your answer, Digger. It's been already two weeks since he asked me to find you. Now, you won't wait forever. It's two weeks. You started looking for me just two weeks ago. Well, that's quite a while to wait when you're anxious to get into production. I know you won't wait much longer.  This woman would make her fine fortune tell it. You buy me out of here, and I'll go. It was normally a pleasant three-day trip to Tabura. But for the Digger, his liquor supply suddenly cut off. It was a nightmare. Twice, he had to stop for several hours while he fought to control his nerves. But by the time he finally reached the floor of the valley that led to Tabura, the worst was over. Late the fourth afternoon, remembering what Carton had said, he swung the truck wide around the native village. And a few minutes later, he was driving down the hot, dusty street that separated the four frame buildings of the Tabura mine. Oh, anybody here? Sandy. Sandy and McGregor. Who is it? It's the Digger. Why? What's the matter? Didn't you recognize me? Well, now, of course I did. I just had to wait till I got close up. You haven't changed, Sandy. Neither have you. And I'm very glad to see you, Digger. Oh, is that the truck Carton bought me? Yes. And she's loaded with supplies. Goodwill unloaded in the mine. And it'll give you something to do. And you started working the mine? I can't until I receive the permit. Come along inside. Carton thinks you've found a new vein. So I have. It should go about 600 a ton. I've got some more samples. You take a look, see what you think. Leg being in your trouble? Oh, no, no. Muscles get tight when I don't use it. That's all. Too bad you didn't get entirely clear of that day. But even so, you had a great deal off from the others who were down there. Yes, yes. Um, anyone else here with you? The geologist seems to know his job. Oh, here we are. Clark, this is Fabian. Roger Fabian. Clark? That's right. I was just about to fix myself a drink. You'll join me, won't you? No, thanks. Oh, come now, Fabian. Surely you're thirsty after your long trip? No, no. I've decided to stay off it for a while. Oh? You think you'll be able to? Why, yes. Why? I've always heard once the stuff's gotten hold of a man, it took real guts to leave it alone. Oh. Well, how about you, Sandy? No, not now. I'm going to take another look around for Miggy. Miggy's our newest recruit from the village digger. He disappeared right after luncheon today. Carton said you were having some trouble with the natives. Nothing to it except threats. They don't want us going down into the mine. Big taboo. I'll be back in a few minutes. So you're the famous digger. I've heard a lot about you. Oh? From Sandy? No, he scarcely mentioned you. I'll show you one of that drink. Oh, quite sure. Well, you've changed since Jobber. Oh? Did we meet there? Well, we had a mutual friend, Trudy Morgan. Remember him? Oh, yes. You've been gone about a month when I checked in. Well, did you like to see your room? It's right across the hall from mine. It doesn't matter if you snore, though. Rats keep me awake most of the night anyway. Rats? Yeah? Places overrun with them. And they're hungry, so watch yourself. Well, everything seems to be in order. Except the lock on this door. Oh, I won't worry about that. I would. Someone might sneak in while you're sleeping and slit your throat. Well, it's not very funny, Clark. It wasn't meant to be. Now, come along. We'd better get your gear in before dark. All I brought with me. I wonder what they're up to. Clark Digger! Over here, Sandy. You find him? No. He's gone back to the village. Well, looks as if I'll have to don the apron tonight. We'll not be eating here. Oh, why not? I went over toward the village. That's no ordinary ceremony, that Hogan. They're being whipped up into something big. Lots of cooler being passed about. For our benefit, perhaps? I'm afraid so. You mean they might come here to attack us? I'm not going to stay to find out. Where we go? Down into the mine. That's the one place they won't dare to come after us. Now, you and Clark go ahead, Digger. I'll get some blankets and things from the house. What about the truck and your supplies? If we don't get her to this alive, we won't need them. Oh, Digger.  But I think I should now. Yes?  What? I intend to do it within the next few days. Unless, of course, the natives do it for me. Well, come along, Digger. Outstanding theater of thrills. Suspend. Is no signature on a Valentine. Not that our danger-loving insurance investigator is opposed to romance. It's just that the detective's profession calls for a pragmatic approach to life. If he wants to go on living. That's why, no matter how lovely a lady may be and no matter how attracted to her, Johnny Dollar may be. Solving the particular case he's working on, always takes precedence over sentiment. The case he's working on right now calls for courage as well as caution. And it's a baffling mystery thriller you'll enjoy following clue by clue. As you listen for yours truly, Johnny Dollar, Monday through Friday evening on most of these same stations. And now we bring back to our Hollywood soundstage, Torrin Platcher, starring in tonight's production, The Digger. A tale well calculated to keep you in... suspense.  This prevented Fabian from asking questions and pressing Clark for answers. Clark himself was the big question. The Digger was not entirely convinced that Clark was serious yet. There was nothing humorous in Clark's threat, which had been made in an unemotional and completely fatalistic way. He was still undecided when McGregor caught up with him. Together, they reached the hoist and climbed into the cage. The moment before they started down, they saw the natives had fired to the building they had just left. Then they lowered themselves. The Digger began to remember the nightmares and remembered this mine was also a tomb. This'll set us back. It'll set us back more if they catch us in. There's a bottle wrapped in that blanket, Clark. Will you break it out? Yes. How far are we going down, Sandy? To the lower level? The lower level. That's what I've been working. I've got a spot fixed up near the cave in. We'll be more comfortable there. Here we are. You look a bit shaky, Digger. Better take some of this. Yes, yes, all right. Thanks. That's more like the old Digger. How about you, Sandy? Go ahead. I don't bother me being down there. I couldn't bother any of it. How about it, Digger? Would it bring back some nasty memories? Why should it? Well, last time you were down, you barely got out alive. You were lucky that day, weren't you? Clark, I couldn't bring... I'm sorry, Digger. Didn't mean to remind you. You didn't? No, don't imagine I did. Here, you better take another drink. Wash away the ghosts. Well, where'd it do them? Hang on to that bottle, Digger. I'll help Sandy with the other things. Wait a minute. What is it? I'm not sure. It's smoke. What? It is smoke. Come on, from up top. They're trying to smoke us out. Yeah, well, that'll take a lot of doing. Come on, let's get back where we can rest. They started back then, their graphite lamps lighting the way, casting shadows on the stone walls ahead of them. The Digger remembered each foot at the level, each beam that supported it, and kept the earth from caving in on them. Once he would have remembered them as old friends, but not now. Then they rounded the sharp turn, and came upon the fallen tons of shale and loose rock, but it caused the death of 30 men. Did you see that, Clark? Yes. What was it?  Digger, you had better do easy on that stuff. Let him alone, Sandy. You let him alone. You're the one who's been after him. It's all right, Sandy. Don't you worry about me.  Yes, yes, sure. Here you are. Thank you. No, sit down. We'll be here all night anyway. Cigarette, Sandy? No, thanks, we'd better not smoke down here, just in case. What have you said, Digger? Did you know all the men that were in here that day? No, not all. But most of them? Yes. I saw a letter you wrote to the wife of one of them after it happened. I wrote good many letters. Yes. This woman lived in Suffolk. Has two kids. No. And about 11 and 14 now. You know who I mean, Digger? No, I don't know. Well, was she Henry's wife? Yes, I... I wrote to tell her, to try and explain how it happened. And how you managed to get out when no one else did. She believed you, but I didn't. Why? No, wait a minute, Clark. You wait. I've been looking for him for over six months. I'd almost given up. Why, Clark? Why? Don't you know?  What? Can't you remember his last name? No. Henry's last name. He was your friend. No, I don't... You sent his things back to her. I sent them, too. No. No, you can't be... Clark. Henry Clark, Digger. No, I... You're Henry's brother. That's right. Why did he tell me? It didn't matter to you. Why did you lie to her like that, Digger? I didn't lie. You're lying. No, I didn't lie. Then and at the inquest. Now, stop it, Clark. He was cleared at the inquest. Because there wasn't anyone to testify against him. But there is now. And he's right here, sitting beside me.  The woman in Joberg? Yes. She told me about you. All about you. You have nightmares. The same one. Over and over. Clark, please.  You'd be yelling, should have warned them. No. Why didn't I warn them? Clark, Clark.  No, no, Clark. Even if it is true, I'm not forgetting you. I'll forget it when he can sit here on my brother's tomb with a clear conscience. Well, I've been sick afraid like it's been since we entered this place. And you know what is afraid of, Sandy? The men buried here. No. Isn't that right, Digger? No. Isn't that right? Yes. You left them because you ran. You left them behind. Yes. You saw the danger signs. You knew it was going to give way. But instead of taking time to warn them, you ran. Isn't that true? I've known you a long time, Digger. I've seen you do things that took more than I had in me. I couldn't help it. Believe me, I couldn't help it.  Fire, explosions, gas. Yes, I was afraid of them. But not like a cave-in where I'd be crushed to death or die fighting for air. Please, Clark, I couldn't help it. Believe me, I couldn't. No, no, no. It's all right, Digger. You speak for yourself, McGregor. Now, Clark, you're not going to keep after him. You want me to shake his hand? Show him the meaning of brotherly love? That it? There'll be no harm in it. And a lot of good for both of you. We may all do just that if they keep on pouring smoke in here. They sat quietly for a while, waiting. And just as McGregor had feared it would, the smoke reached their level and came rolling down the shaft. And with it, running in front of it, were all the animals who had made their nests in the abandoned mine. What time is it? About four. It'll be daylight in another hour. The natives will stop then, go home to sleep off the cooler. What was that? Did he hear something? I don't know. Listen. Another rat. Look. Look there. At the turn. There were four of them. Listen to them. They must be coming down here to get away from the smoke up top. Let's take a look out toward the cage. Good Lord. Hundreds of them. Keep your lamp on them. They're afraid of light. Sandy, look back there toward the cage. More coming in. They're not moving. Come on, we'll get back. What? We'll go back where we were. Come on. Nobody ever strapped in here, Sandy. We've got to make a run for it now. Take it easy, Clark. Take it easy. A thousand rats out there waiting for us. How are we going to get out? I'm not thinking about that. I'm thinking about keeping alive right where we are. Look. Look. They're moving this way, Sandy. We've got to make a run for it. We can't run. You mean he can't? I mean we're sticking together. Then none of us will make it. And I'll die here.  We'll make a nice meal for them. For their families and their families.  Sandy, you two had better go now, while there's still a chance. No, we'll stay. The air should begin to clear in another hour. How do you know? You don't know for sure the natives are going to give up? Sandy, your only chance is to try and reach the cage. If you make it and it's clear up top, send the cage back down. I'll try for it then. If it's not clear up there, it won't make any difference, anyhow. Stop talking and let's move. But if we leave you alone, they might... They will anyway in a few moments. Go on, Sandy. Go on. There's a shovel over there and I can hold off until you get up top. Listen to him, Sandy. Do what he says. All right. We'll try. Go on, Sandy. Oh, Sandy. Yes. One thing. In case you get through and I don't, there's a woman I... I'd like her to have my things. When you send them to Carton, you'll know where to take them. Yes. Good luck, Digger. Let's go on your journey, please. A few minutes later, Clark and Sandy McGregor, having fought their way to the cage, reached the top of the mine and stepped out into a clear blue dawn. Then, with an almost automatic gesture, because they had said they would and not because they expected the crippled Digger to make it through the rats, they sent the cage back down. Then they waited. How long's that been? Long enough. Clark. Clark, he made it! He made it! Come on, help me put him up! Down the shaft, there's the cage near them. They could see rats clinging to the top of it through to the ropes on each side. Then the cage was clear and they saw what it carried. Oh, my God. No. They must have been all over him. For a thousand feet. They buried him as the sun rose full above the horizon. A few days later, Sandy wrote another letter to his friend Carton. The day after receiving it, Carton drove again to the river crossing, parked his car and crossed into the native section. Before he reached Winkies, where he was to give the woman a very small package, he had been pushed, cursed, and spat upon. Tonight's presentation of The Digger. Next week, we bring you a story of a boy who ran from a prophecy but couldn't escape its deadly promise. We call it the strange prophecy of Bertha Abbott. That's next week on Suspense. Now, a public service message from CBS Radio. In this second half of the 20th century, war could happen in a hurry. Nuclear fission and long-range bombers have brought America within striking distance. And unless we're on our guard an aggressor could deliver devastating blows. The story of Bertha Abbott was written by Charles B. Smith, especially for Suspense. The music was composed and conducted by Leith Stevens. Featured in the cast were her Butterfield, and an aggressor could deliver devastating blows. To help guard America enlist in the Ground Observer Corps, sign up for the silver wings that mean you're doing your share to man our vital aircraft spotter observation posts. Write or telephone your nearest Civil Defense Center and volunteer.