In this thrilling episode, we delve into the mysterious world of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson as they unravel the chilling tale of "The Hound of the Baskervilles." Set in the eerie moors of Devonshire, the story begins with Dr. Mortimer seeking Holmes' help after the mysterious death of Sir Charles Baskerville. Holmes and Watson are drawn into a web of supernatural legends and family curses as they investigate the Baskerville estate. As the plot thickens, they encounter strange occurrences, including a spectral hound and a series of cryptic warnings.
Holmes' keen deductive skills are put to the test as he uncovers the truth behind the Baskerville curse. With the help of Watson, they navigate through a series of red herrings and dangerous encounters, including the escape of a convict and the mysterious behavior of the Stapletons. The episode culminates in a dramatic showdown on the moor, where Holmes and Watson confront the real threat behind the legend. This adaptation of the classic Sherlock Holmes story is filled with suspense, intrigue, and the timeless charm of Arthur Conan Doyle's legendary detective.
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No purchase necessary. VGW Group VoIP. We're prohibited by law. 21 plus terms and conditions apply. The CBS Radio Mystery Theater presents
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Come in. Welcome. I'm E. G. Marshall. I remember when I was in high school, I studied a poem which struck terror to my heart. I still recall the opening lines, which went, I fled him down the nights and down the days. I fled him down the arches of the years. I fled him down the labyrinthine ways of my own mind. Some of you will recognize the author as Francis Thompson and the poem as the hound of heaven. And it's still terrifying. But think how much more fearful it would be if the hound you were fleeing from was a hound of hell.
Good Lord. What? What's that? I don't know, sir Henry. It's some sound they have on the moor, I think. Don't cuddle me, Watson.
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When the people of the moor hear that cry, what do they say it is? They say it's the cry of the hunger of the Baskervilles
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seeking its
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prey.
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Our mystery drama, The Hound of the Baskervilles, was especially adapted from the Sherlock Holmes classic, For the Mystery Theatre by Murray Burnett, and stars Kevin McCarthy. It is sponsored in part by General Electric Citizen Band radios, and Buick Motor Division. I'll be back shortly with act one. The mantle of immortality is elusive and unpredictable. Two fictional characters created at the turn of the century by Arthur Conan Doyle have become undying legends. So strong is the public belief in their existence that the city of London recently granted the owner of the premises at 221 B Baker Street the right to change the number of that address permanently in order to avoid the hordes of tourists flocking to see the actual living quarters of Sherlock Holmes and his colleague, doctor Watson.
Our story today starts in those very rooms in the year nineteen o two. My training as a medical man made me an early riser. Sherlock Holmes wasn't. On this morning, my friend was at the breakfast table while I was intently examining a cane that had been left behind by a visitor who had missed us last night. Well, Watson, what do you make of it? You've been looking at the cane for some time. Since we've been so unfortunate as to miss the owner and have no notion of his errand, this accidental
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souvenir carries some importance.
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Let me hear you construct the man by an examination of it. Well, very well owned. Really, it's a child's play to read that the man's name is James Mortimer, that he's a physician. But I would go further and say he's an elderly country practitioner who does a great deal of his visiting on foot because the end of this stick is very heavily worn down. Excellent Watson. But now, the stick was given to him by, the friends of the CCH for which I take to be the something hunt of a local group to whom he's possibly given some assistance. Now, has anything escaped me? Now, here, let me have a look at it for you.
Well, I trust there's nothing of importance I've overlooked. No, no, Watson. This man is certainly a country practitioner. What's a great deal? Then I was right. To that extent. But since we know that the man is a doctor, is it likely the presentation to him would come from a hospital rather than a hunt? And when we see the initials c ch, does not Charing Cross hospital leap to the mind? Can we not also infer that such a presentation would be made at
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the time he left perhaps to,
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practice in the country? And since the date is on the stick and it's only five years ago, it's highly unlikely that an elderly, well established physician would go into country practice. So we now have a young color, amiable, unambitious and possessor of a favorite dog which I should say is, as larger than a terrier and smaller than a master. Come on. Well, the dog is too much. No, not at all. If you'll observe these tooth marks in the middle of the stick where the dog has been accustomed to carry it. The dog's jaw is too broad for a terrier and not quite broad enough for a master. It may well be, it is.
A curly hat spaniel. My dear Holmes, how can you possibly be so sure about that? There's a very simple reason that I see the dog itself on our doorstep. And there is the ring of its owner, and we shall soon discover why he has come to see us. The appearance of our visitor was a surprise to me because although Holmes had correctly deduced his age, his back was already bowed and he walked with a forward thrust of his head. As he entered his eyes fell upon the stick in Holmes' hand and he ran to it with an exclamation of joy.
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I'm so very glad. I wouldn't want to lose those sticks of the world. Presentation, I see. Yes, indeed. From Towing Cross Hospital. From some friends there on occasion of my marriage. Oh dear dear, that's bad.
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I beg your pardon. Why was that bad? Only that you've disarranged our little deductions. We had surmised that you left the hospital. Oh, and so I did. Immediately upon my marriage. Ah. It was necessary to make a home for my wife. Well, we weren't so far wrong after all. In our doctor Mortimer, I think it wise if you would tell me what the exact nature of the problem is in which you ask my assistance. And then to my astonishment, the physician took a worn and ancient manuscript from his pocket and read to us a most horrifying tale concerning the manner of located in Devonshire and the origin of the curse on the Baskerville line.
The manuscript told of the abduction of a young girl on Nicholas Eve and locking her up in Baskerville Hall. The girl, being both courageous and ingenious, dared to escape from an upper floor by clamoring down the ivy, and then setting off across the moors towards her home.
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Upon discovering that the maiden had indeed escaped, Hugo became as one possessed. And he cried aloud before his companions that that very night he would render his body and soul to the powers of evil if he might overtake the girl with the hounds he would set upon Excuse the interruption doctor. But you're certain of the authenticity of this document? Oh, absolutely, miss Holmes. It's in the form of a letter from the third Hugo Baskerville to his sons
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explaining why they should fear going out on the moors at night. I see. I presume that manuscript gives a reason. Oh, it most certainly does.
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The hound. The hound of the Baskervilles. If you let me continue. Hugo's companions riding after him across the moors came upon a night shepherd. A man so crazed with fear that he could scarce speak. He told the riders that he'd not only seen the maid running for her very life, but also, sir Hugo on his black mare and running mute behind him, such a hound of hell as God forbid should ever be at my heels. When I come to the close, mister Holmes, it says here that three riders came upon the body of the maid dead from fatigue and fear, and also the body of Sir Hugo Baskerville, with a great black beast larger than any mortal hound, ravening at Sir Hugo's throat with its jaw gripping blood.
Well, such is the tale, my sons, of the coming of the hound which is said to have plagued the Baskerville family so sorely ever since. Well, mister Holmes, would you find it interesting? Only to a collector of fairy tales.
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Well then how would you classify this newspaper account in the Devon County Chronicle of three weeks ago? Three weeks ago. Regrettable death, sir Charles Baskerville. Body founded Saint Hugh Alley of Baskerville Hall. Pronounced dead by his friend and physician, James Morton. That's you. Coronary's verdict, cardiac exhaustion. And despite some strange aspects of the death Well, now, Doctor Mortimer, everything seems straightforward but evidently you entertain some doubts in the matter. Something you didn't state at the press or at the inquest? Yes, mister Holmes.
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When I first saw the body, sir Charles lay upon his face. His arms out, fingers dug deep into the ground, and his features convulsed into such a grimace of terror that I, his best friend and physician hardly recognized it. Dear me, no physical injuries? None. But although Harrison, the caretaker who found the body said he saw no traces at all upon the ground. I did, mister Helms, I did. Footprints. Footprints.
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A man's or a woman's? Neither. They were the tracks of a gigantic
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hound.
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And your reason for withholding this information at the inquest?
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Because the people of the countryside do not share your opinion about the curse hanging over the Baskerville family. Sir Charles himself believed in it and I certainly had no wish to add fuel to the flames besides yes. But there's a realm in which the most acute and most experienced of detectives is helpless.
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You mean supernatural. Well, I can find my investigations to this world and I cannot understand why you are now consulting me.
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But I came to ask your advice about what I should do with the air, the new sir Henry Baskerville who arrives in Waterloo Station in exactly one hour. Meet him, take him to a good hotel
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and both of you come back here tomorrow at noon.
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And mister Holmes, doctor Watson, this is sir Henry Baskerville.
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How do you know? I'm I'm all at sea. I have been ever since I got the news of my uncle's death and my inheritance. I had no idea uncle Charles was so well fixed. Doctor Mortimer, as the executor of the estate, can you tell us, are there any other claimants? Sir, no sir.
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And, and then this morning, I find this note at my hotel and one of my brand new boots is missing. Where I see the note? Of course. Dime novel stuff if you ask me.
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As you value your life or reason, keep away from the moor. Or we must all agree there's nothing supernatural about this.
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Now, the missing boots are brand new pairs. I bought them just yesterday. Left them outside my hotel door to be polished and one of them is gone this morning. I can only tell you that there is no devil in hell and no man upon earth who can prevent me from going to the home of my own people.
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And soon it was arranged that on Saturday I was to accompany sir Henry and take up residence with him at Baskerville Hall. Because Holmes was insistent that someone be with sir Henry at all times. When Holmes and I called to pick up sir Henry at his hotel Saturday, we found the young baronet in a rave. I won't
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sucker in this hotel. You still haven't located your boots, sir Henry. But this is a different one. Well, I got the other one back and now I'm missing an old black one. I'm beginning to think this hotel is nothing but a den of thieves. I think it's very odd and
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damnably
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dangerous. Sir Holmes, if you know something you should inform us so that we may Doctor. Mortimer,
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I know only that you were concerned about the safety of sir Henry and quite rightly so. I also know that someone knew that you were in this hotel and saw fit to warn you to keep away from Baskerville Hall and the Moor. And we all know that there were extremely suspicious circumstances surrounding the death of sir Charles Baskerville. I therefore suggest that anything out of the ordinary such as the curious instance with the boots must be taken very seriously. Well, sure you must be joking about the boots, Holmes. I failed to. My dear Watson, did you bring your revolver as I asked? Well, of course. Good. Carry it at all times.
I confess I, your instructions are making me nervous. They should have precisely the opposite effect. Now doctor Mortimer, as executor of Sir Charles Will you know the exact amount of the estate. Is it considerable?
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Yeah, I should say that the sum in excess of £740,000
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is indeed considerable. What do you mean, what do you mean? That is a stake for which a man might well play a desperate game. In the event something happens to sir Henry who stands to inherit? You mean a distant cousin named James Desmond. And if you have any suspicions in that direction let me inform you, he's a clergyman in his seventies. Thank you. Now, Watson, I want complete and daily reports from you. When the crisis arises, as it surely will, I will direct you how to act. Now gentlemen, goodbye and God's feet. Ever since I was old enough to read, I have delighted in the adventures of Sherlock Holmes and his bumbling but lovable colleague, doctor Watson.
The game is afoot, and we'll be back shortly with act two. One of our most successful writers of modern detective stories once made a terrible pun, but a perceptive comment on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's stories about Sherlock Holmes. It went this way. Be they ever so humble, there's no police like Holmes. I agree wholeheartedly. And now we have the pleasure of rejoining doctor Watson, sir Henry Baskerville, and doctor James Mortimer in the wagonette, carrying them and their luggage across the moors on the way to Baskerville
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Hall. Hello. Look at that, sir Henry and Watson. I believe it's a mounted soldier with a rifle. I think pull up driver. Pull up. Not to worry, sir. Based on
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I gave an involuntary shudder. It It was a case Holmes had taken an interest in because of the ferocity of a man, Seldon, who escaped the death penalty only because his atrocious thunder had led to doubts about his sanity. As I shivered, the wagon swept onto a long driveway where stood a huge building with mugged windows. Standing in front of the large heavy door was an angular woman with deep set eyes, which blaze with fanatic fire.
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Welcome to all, Sir Henry. I'm Mrs. Harrison, the caretaker's wife. My husband will be here shortly. He joins with me in wishing you a long, happy life and in begging you to aboard the moor particularly in those hours of darkness when the powers of evil are exalted.
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The very next morning, I set out to explore the moor by daylight. As I walked along a gray and lonely road wishing that Holmes were here to help me, my thoughts were interrupted by a man calling my name. Doctor Watson. Doctor Watson. Yes, sir.
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I'm Scapleton. I just live down the moor at Meredith House. Most of the folks around here call me an eccentric because of my hobby. I'm a naturalist.
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I can see that that from your net in the box. But how do you know me? Oh, no mystery about that.
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You passed doctor Martimer's house a short way back. He pointed you out to me as you passed. As I rode lay the same way, I thought I'd overtake you and introduce myself. How is sir Henry? None of the worst for his journey, I trust. Well, he's very well. Thank you. Not afraid of ribbing down here after the sad death of sir child.
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That is of some concern to you sir. Well, it means a great deal to the countryside
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to have a wealthy man such as Henry with us. Well, I'm glad to hear he has no superstitious fears of the fiend dog which is supposed to haunt the family. I don't believe he has. How do you stand on the matter? I'm a scientist. Well, it is extraordinary how credulous the farmers are. A number of them are ready to swear they've seen such a creature on the moor.
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And you have Of course not.
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Although I have no doubt the story led to Sir Charles' tragic end.
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Indeed.
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Why do you think that? Sir Charles had a vivid imagination and a diseased heart. His nerves were so on edge that the appearance of any dog at all at night near the Yew Valley might well have triggered a fatal heart attack.
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Do you agree? Well, I've come to no conclusion.
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Quite so. Well, if you care to come along with me to Mary Pithouse, I'll I'll introduce
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moor. Well, this morning is my first venture on it but that large plain to the north looks like a fine place for the gallop on a horse.
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That thought has already cost several lives doctor Watts. What? That seems hard to believe. You see those bright green spots scattered thickly over it?
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Yes. Yes. They seem more fertile than the rest. You might say that.
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But in reality, that's the great grim and mire. One fourth step for man or beast, and you die slowly and agonizingly in a quicksand. An awful place, doctor. And yet I find my way to the very heart of it safely. Why would you want to go to such a place? That's where the rarest plants and butterflies are, and I have the wit to reach home. Them. Good lord. What was that? The lady who says the hound of the Baskervilles
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calling for its prey. You don't believe that, do you?
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Perhaps it's the mud settling in the bog. Excuse me, but unless I'm mistaken, there's a purple hair streak. Very rare. I'll I'll I'll I'll join you at Merripit House. You can't miss it.
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Stapleton was off with amazing speed and agility. To my dismay, the creature fluttered straight for the great mire but Stapleton never paused for a moment. I stood watching him and then turned to find a woman near me upon the path. Slim, elegant,
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with a sensitive mouth and dark eager eyes. Go back. Go straight back to London. Instantly. Instantly. Wait. What? Why? I I I mean, why should I go back? I I cannot explain, but do what I ask. Go back and never set foot on this moor again. Fine. I I have just only come. Can't you tell when a warning is for your own good? Get away from this place immediately. But, ma'am, Don't say a word.
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Hello, Beryl.
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Well, Jack, you're you're very warm and out of love, I see. Oh, what was it this time? Purple hairstreak. Seldom found in the late autumn.
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Pretty I've missed him.
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You've introduced yourself, has he? Yes, sir. I I was telling Sir Henry that it was rather late for him to see the true beauties of the moor.
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You think he's, Henry Baskerville?
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Of course. Oh, no, ma'am. I'm only a humble commoner. My name is Doctor Watson. Oh,
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we've been talking at cross purposes. Well, you've not had very much time for talk. Well, I I merely mean that I talked as if doctor Watson were a resident instead of a visitor. I
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chose this out of the way spot to settle down in, doctor, because it offers an unlimited field of work in the areas of botany and zoology. Doctor Mortimer is a learned man, and sir Charles was also an admirable companion. We knew him well. Missed him. Of course, we miss our boys too, don't we, Barrow? Most certainly. Your boys? Yes. I I had a school in the North Country. However, serious epidemic broke out and three of the boys died. School never recovered from the brown.
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Well, I, feel I should be getting back to the hall. Well, as you wish.
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Do you think we'd be in footing if Beryl and I were to call this afternoon and make the acquaintance with sir Henry? I'm sure sir Henry would be delighted.
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I set off rapidly upon the same path by which we'd come.
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But there must have been some shortcut because before I reached the road, I was astounded to see miss Stapleton sitting upon a rock by the side of the track. Oh, oh, I've run all the way in order to cut you off, doctor Watson, and to tell you to forget what I said. I must not stop or my brother will miss me. Now now hold on a moment, please. Sir Henry's welfare is a close concern of mine. Why were you so eager he should leave here? Well, my brother and I were very much shocked by by the death of Sir Charles. We all know the story of the hound, and I felt he should be warned. But the hound's story is nonsense. No. I happen to believe it. Now I must go back. Now now just one more question.
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Why did you not wish your brother to know about a warning?
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My brother is most anxious to have the hall inhabited. He thinks it is for the good of the people here. He'd have been angry if he knew I'd answer Henry to leave.
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My dear Holmes, I am writing to report that I have sold one riddle only unfortunately to come up with another. You may recall my mentioning to you that I believed I heard a woman sobbing during the first night I spent at Baskerville Hall. I mentioned this to sir Henry and we agreed that if I heard anything this night, I should wake him and we would investigate together. Along about 02:00 in the morning, I heard stealthy footsteps going past my door. I was out of bed in a flash and waited until they'd passed. I went to sir Henry's room and tapped softly our prearranged signal.
Yes. You heard something, Watson? Footsteps. No sobbing. No. The footsteps passed my door and went down the corridor. I see that it turned left. Where does it end? There's a window overlooking the moors. And the steps went in that direction. Stop it now. What?
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What's missus Harrison?
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What in the world is she doing? She She's holding that candle against the window and peering up. Her face is pressed almost against glass and crying bitterly. Come on, Watson. We'll get to the bottom of it.
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Alright, missus Harrison. Tell us what you're doing up here. Oh oh oh, sir. And I I I was just going around to see that the windows were flattened. On the Second On the Second Floor? Oh, yes, sir. Yes, sir. I I check all the windows at night. And that makes you cry? Well, I I I was doing no harm, sir. I I was just throwing a candle to the window. She must have been signaling someone. Oh, no. No, sir. There there it is, sir Henry. An answering morgue. No sir, it's, it's nothing, it's nothing at all. Move that candle across the window Watson. There, this is Harrison.
You see the other light moves also. Now speak up. What is the meaning of all this? Oh, please believe me, sir Henry. It has nothing to do with you. It's a personal matter. So you say.
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I know your family has been employed by mine for more than fifty years
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but I'm not in Baskerville Hall A Week before I find you deep in some dark plot against me. Oh, no, sir. No, sir. Not against you. Not you. You you see, sir, my unhappy brother is is starving none the more. I cannot let him perish on my very doorstep. This light is a signal that food is ready for him and his light is to show me and my husband the spot to which to bring it.
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Good Lord. Then your brother is Yes. The escape
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brother.
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We took the weeping unfortunate woman to her husband and left her. Sir Henry insisted on accompanying me on the moor to assist me in capturing this dangerous criminal. I had my revolver and Sir Henry a hunting crop. The moor was pitch black but we easily picked out the pinpoint of light where the fellow was waiting. Mind your footing sir Henry.
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A pity we can't show a light. I think we should bear more to the right.
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There's his light.
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Watson, what's that? I don't know. The sound they have on the moor. I, I heard it once before. Don't coddle me Watson.
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That was the cry of a howling. They say it's the cry of the hunger of the bascobels. You believe that Watson? No, But I think that we should forget our expedition. No. By thunder, whatever that cry was, it came from far away near the mines. We listen to you and get that convict. I don't think that's wise. I urge you to return to the hall. You don't believe in this hellhound and neither do I. Come on man. Well I'm charged with your safety. Holmes would never forgive me if something happened to you while you were here. While we stand here drawing our man will get away. Now come on. No, I cannot allow it. You can't prevent it. Well, either you come back to the hall with me now willingly or I shall be forced to knock you down and carry you back.
Now, which shall it be?
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Him. We'll be back with act three and his decision in just a little while. People have varying thresholds of fear. For example, I have no particular fear of heights, but a friend of mine hugs the wall if he finds himself on a terrace more than three floors up. As for me, I shudder at the thought of being hunted down by a pack of dogs, whereas an experienced woodsman might not find that so terrifying. However, I think even an experienced hunter might well find the baying of a themed dog, a hound from hell, a soul shattering experience.
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There is evidence, sir Henry. I don't know what it is but you're walking back to the safety of the hall with me or I shall knock you down and tell it. And allow this murderous convict to escape.
[00:30:24] Unknown:
And that my dear Holmes, you must acknowledge solves one mystery. The other, I frankly don't understand. It seems sir Henry is much taken with Beryl Stapleton who is indeed handsome. She talks of nothing but his leaving Baskerville Hall and he suspects her brother Stapleton of being subject to fits of insanity. I repeat to you what he told me of yesterday's conversation.
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Please, sir Henry. Why won't you listen to to one who means you're well and leave this place?
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I will if you come with me. We can be married anywhere you say and And save us
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both. I have no defense against your stupidity. This kind of behavior must come to a stop sir.
[00:31:09] Unknown:
How dare you offer attentions to a lady which are obviously
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distasteful to her. Now, hold on a second, Stapleton. I'm not ashamed of how I feel about your sister.
[00:31:21] Unknown:
I was hoping she might honor me by becoming my wife. If you can find anything dishonourable in that then you can go to the devil. Oh my sentiments exactly sir. Come Beryl, we're going home.
[00:31:37] Unknown:
You can imagine that Stapleton's conduct left both sir Henry and I completely bewildered. And another thing, I'm sure there is another man on the morgue. I swear I caught a glimpse of him when Sir Henry and I were out there searching for Selden, the convict.
[00:31:51] Unknown:
I asked you, Sir Henry, not to report what I told you to the police. The mayor is a public danger. My husband and I have made arrangements for him to go to South America. If you don't inform the police, he can lie safely on the moor until the ship sails. That is, if he can stay out of the way of the other man who hides on the moor. What other man? Who are you talking about? Gently what's I only know what my brother told me. There's another man in hiding out there. My brother says he seems to be playing some game of his own. Did he say where he saw this man? Around the old stone huts where the old folk used to live. About my brother sir Henry, are you going to inform the police?
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What do you say, Watson? Well, if you were safely out of the country
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it would relieve the taxpayers of a burden. Oh, Lord bless you, sir. Oh, thank you, sir. I swear he'll go and you will never hear from him again.
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And Holmes, no sooner had we gotten done with Mrs. Harrison than Stapleton was upon us with an explanation of his strange behavior of the other day. I would ask you to let bygones speak bygones and understand,
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my sister is everything in my life.
[00:33:07] Unknown:
We've always been together. Yes, surely, you must have thought that someday a beautiful woman like Darryl would naturally Marry, leave me alone?
[00:33:17] Unknown:
Of course. But when I was faced with a reality it, it, it came as such a shock that I, I really wasn't responsible for what I said or did. I understand completely. That really is me greatly because in that case, I'm going to ask a favor of you. Yes. Give me some time to become accustomed to the situation. Well, how do you mean? I will withdraw all opposition if you give me three months before claiming her love. After that time, I should have prepared myself for losing her. But if she's willing, she can become your wife.
[00:34:00] Unknown:
I myself was determined to discover the identity of the other man hiding on the morgue. And early that evening, I went to examine the abandoned stone house where Mrs. Harrison said her brother believed the man to be lurking. I approached one of the huts, closed my hand over the bottom of my revolver, and entered quickly. The place was empty, but there were distinct evidences that it was being used. And I looked around the remains of a meal, I heard a stone click. Then a figure loomed in the doorway. Lovely evening my dear watcher. I really think it'd be more comfortable outside than in. Oh.
I, I was never happy to see anyone in my life. Or more astonished, Please be careful with that bravo. I thought you were busy working in love. That was what I wished you to think. By keeping you in the dark I've been able to pursue my inquiries freely and I've villain. And all my reports have been wasted. Not at all, not at all. I have them with me and they help me immeasurably. For instance, they've led me to the vital bit of information, the vital bit of information my friend. The lady passing as Jack Stapleton's sister is really his wife.
Good heaven, Tombs. Are you sure? Thanks to you, Watson. In all the pack of lies that Stapleton told you he dropped one grain of truth. He was once a schoolmaster in the North Of England. A check of scholastic agencies turned up the evidence I just passed on to you. But why, why this deception? Because he foresaw that she would be much more useful to him in her character as a free woman. But what does it all mean, Holmes? What is Stapleton after? It's murder, Watson. Refined, cold blooded, deliberate murder. But my nets are closing in on him even as his are closing on sir Henry.
Another day or two at the drop and this happened.
[00:36:02] Unknown:
Good Lord, Holmes. Now,
[00:36:25] Unknown:
you speak thus, Watson. We're too late. Fool that I was to hold my hand. And you watch and see what comes of abandoning your charge. Come on. Up there. Up there against the stove. Come on.
[00:36:42] Unknown:
Wait. Because sir, Henry I recognize a queen jacket. No,
[00:36:48] Unknown:
no, Watson, no. Oh,
[00:36:51] Unknown:
the man has a beard, it's not sir Henry. It's Seldon. It's Seldon the convict wearing sir Henry's clothes, no doubt furnished him by his sister.
[00:37:01] Unknown:
Doctor Watson. You're the last man I should have expected to see on the moon at the Savonite. What's this? Somebody hurt? Don't tell me it's sir Henry. It's Sultan, the estate convict who appears to have fallen and broken his neck.
[00:37:17] Unknown:
What brings you onto the Moor at this hour sir? I heard a cry.
[00:37:23] Unknown:
You heard it too I expect. Yeah. You hear anything else beside a cry? No. Well, that's very comforting coming from mister Sherlock Holmes.
[00:37:34] Unknown:
Well, you seem to be very quick at identification, mister Stapleton. Are you also, mister Holmes?
[00:37:41] Unknown:
Now that you're on the scene, perhaps you've made some discoveries.
[00:37:46] Unknown:
Only that this tragedy will make an unpleasant memory for me to take back to London tomorrow night. You'll return tomorrow?
[00:37:53] Unknown:
That's my intention. Does that mean you already have a solution to the strange events which have been troubling all of us here on the moor. No, no, no, no. Any investigator
[00:38:04] Unknown:
needs facts, not legends or rumors. No, wonderful. This has not been a satisfactory case. I couldn't believe that Holmes meant to leave the scene and when I questioned him he quickly set my mind at rest. He was laying a trap for the cunning Stapleton and he needed also to have sir Henry believe he wouldn't be on the scene. The following morning at breakfast
[00:38:35] Unknown:
Good morning, gentlemen. I see you've already helped yourselves
[00:38:39] Unknown:
from the sideboard. I'll say I've made some rather heavy in those on the bacon. It's exactly the way I like it. Tell me, tonight you dine with our friends at Stapleton. Yes. I hope you and Watson will join me. I'm sure you'll be be welcome. I'm sorry, I'm sorry but Watson and I must go to London.
[00:38:57] Unknown:
London?
[00:38:59] Unknown:
Oh, I hope you and Watson are going
[00:39:02] Unknown:
to see me through this business. My dear fellow, what I'm going to say next will try your trust in me even more thoroughly but I beg of you to do as I ask. What's that? After you dine, walk back to the hall across the moor. What? Mm-mm. Is there anything you tell me never to do? I'm asking you to believe me when I say say you'll be perfectly safe but it's essential that you do it. Of course Holmes and I would be hiding along his path to Baskerville Hall but we did not tell him that. Now, careful Watson. Oh, look over to Grimp and Meyer. Isn't that fog hanging over there? It is indeed home.
Damn nation. And it's moving towards us. Our success and even sir Henry's life hang on. His coming out before the fog is over the past. Oh, thank heaven. He's coming now, pushed him in the dark and I can't say I blame him.
[00:40:08] Unknown:
Holmes. Wait after him, Watson. Forget your revolver. Good lord, Holmes. What is it? A creature from hell. Watson, chill.
[00:40:24] Unknown:
The creature that they lifeless on the path as Holmes and I stood over it was part bloodhound, part massive and large as a small lioness. Even in the stillness of death, their huge jaws seemed to be dripping with a bluish flame and the eyes ringed with fire. A white faced sir Henry staggered back to us.
[00:40:45] Unknown:
Of course, heaven's name is that creature. The family ghost
[00:40:50] Unknown:
and it's dead. Whatever it is. But, but the fire. Phosphorus, look. Now my fingers seem on fire. Holmes, it's a cunning preparation because it has no odor. The bastard didn't interfere with the brute's power of scent. And now we must bring the man behind the brute to book. He's undoubtedly been warned by the shots that the game is up. And he's headed back to Meredith's house and his wife.
[00:41:16] Unknown:
Wife? You mean his sister.
[00:41:20] Unknown:
And surely it isn't Stapleton but Sir Henry, I meant what I said. Beryl Stapleton is his wife and his name isn't Stapleton since he's your younger cousin. The black sheep who didn't die in Central America as we've been told. What? I,
[00:41:38] Unknown:
I can't believe it. It can't be.
[00:41:43] Unknown:
The door is open. I'll wait till the bird is thong but let's go in and see. There you are. The villain cries and gags her. One moment though. Easy does it, Yeah. Oh Henry.
[00:42:02] Unknown:
I tried. I tried to warn you. Don't see what he did to me. There'll be time for explanations later, madame. But where is he? Where is he? Mhmm. Burning in hell, I hope. Dying slowly
[00:42:13] Unknown:
thick sand of the mire. He knows the past. He told me so. The past,
[00:42:18] Unknown:
yes. The past of his safe place in the center where he kept the great hound. I helped place the guiding ones But yesterday, I changed them. I changed them. And into nice fog, you'll not notice.
[00:42:40] Unknown:
Stapleton's body was never found. Some days later when Holmes and I were back in the Baker Street flat, I asked, there's one thing that still puzzled. That business about the boots. What did Stapleton want with two different boots? Oh, the first boot he stole was brand new and therefore used this to him because he needed a boot that sir Henry sent for the hound.
[00:43:02] Unknown:
Amazing Holmes. How do you see my dear Watson?
[00:43:12] Unknown:
What is even more amazing is the fact that sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the man who created the greatest detective of all time, a man whose cool incisive reasoning served as a model for hundreds of lesser detectives was himself a dupe of the spiritualist. He was constantly fooled and defrauded by media and was laughed at by the world for relaying a message from Houdini's dead mother to Houdini. Only, the message was in English, a language Houdini's mother never knew. I'll be back shortly. The record shows that Doyle, tired of writing Sherlock Holmes stories, and attempted to kill off this popular detective by having him thrown over the Reichenbach Falls.
Popular demand, however, forced a reluctant Doyle to bring Holmes back. Our cast included Kevin McCarthy, Lloyd Bautista, Carol Teitel, Robert Dryden, and Cork Benson. The entire production was under the direction of Hyman Brown. This is EG Marshall inviting you to return to our mystery theater for another adventure in the macabre. Until next time. Pleasant dreams.
[00:45:18] Unknown:
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[00:45:45] Unknown:
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Introduction to the Mystery
The Legend of the Hound
Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson Investigate
The Curse of the Baskervilles
The New Heir Arrives
Strange Occurrences at Baskerville Hall
Exploring the Moor
A Warning from the Moor
The Hunt for the Convict
Holmes' Revelation
The Final Confrontation
Conclusion and Reflections