This is Markham – Will Markham. I met you not long ago at a party given by Charlie Artz, the producer.
The Denmoor Arms. . . . It’s fifty miles out on the old Burly Hill Road. 
I’ve walked into trouble, and I doubt if I’ll walk out of it alive. Help me, Cranston . . . please! There are things going on here the like of which I’ve never seen before in my life!

Lamont! . . . Margot! . . . 
I’d have sworn I’d never see the face of a friend again. . . . Help me out of here. 

Well, she suddenly clobbered me over the back of the head with a poker and knocked me unconscious. . . . Probably she rolled me down the cellar steps after that, because the next thing I knew, I was regaining my senses inside this coffin here. . . .

Yes, I know. She was here when I first walked in, and she was very cordial to me then too. She told me that she was in possession of a great secret – the secret of the Denmoor Arms – but that no one was ever going to find it out but her. 

Yes. She didn’t identify it very clearly. It’s in this house she said . . . hidden in a hiding place within a hiding place. 

(Cuts in fiercely) I said I’ll take it, Margot! And now, you’ll favor me by telling Mr. Cranston nothing
(Boastfully) And you did very well . . . very well indeed, just as I hoped you would. (Chuckles) You see, I couldn’t call in the police to search this place, but I did even better! . . . I took advantage of my acquaintance with Mr. Cranston to get him to do my “investigating” for me. 

I was desperate. That’s what I mean! Some hard-headed real-estate men actually are interested in taking over the Denmoor Arms and converting it into a film studio. . . . And they’re not the kind of people to be frightened off by a ghost story. So I had to find the treasure before they took over and ended our trespassing – mine and Mrs. McGow’s.