 And now, stay tuned for the mystery program that is unique among all mystery programs, because even when you know who is guilty, you always receive a startling surprise at the final curtain. In the Signal Oil program, the Whistler. Signal, the famous Go-Father gasoline, invites you to sit back and enjoy another strange story by the Whistler. I am the Whistler, and I know many things while I walk by night. I know many strange tales hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadows. Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. And now for the Signal Oil Company, the Whistler's strange story. Flee from evil. There was almost complete darkness around the parked car on the lonely road on the outskirts of Seattle. And the man at the wheel, heavy set and fiftious, tried to peer through this darkness. He couldn't see, but he could imagine what was taking place some 50 yards further up the road. A raised gun, careful aim, and then... The shots that Burt Macklin was waiting to hear. Shots followed by the sound of running feet. A few moments later, Burt's nephew had run to the car, leaped inside, and Burt had the motor running, the car and gear moving forward. Swing around, Uncle Burt. We'll go back the way we came. Right. You got him? Yes. Yes, I got him. Hey, look, you're getting off the road. We'll get stuck. We are stuck. Oh, no. We've got to get out of here. You keep stepping on it. Now I'll give her a push. Now, let's go, Uncle Burt. Get us away from here. Fast! Don't worry about now, Freddie. You're sure you took care of him? That's what I came here for, all the way from London. Yes, I took care of him, I'm sure. You didn't get a look at him? No, it was too dark, but he was sitting at the wheel of his car, and I slipped up alongside. I see. Well, maybe it's over. Really over at last. There's no maybe about it. All right, but... Well, after a month of paying off, wondering when I'd be tapped again, it doesn't seem possible that I'm rid of him, Freddie. Well, inheriting money does have its drawbacks, hm? Decidedly. Good thing the fellow was only getting started. Even my entire inheritance could go fast that way. You'd better slow down, Uncle Burt. We're almost into town. We'll go directly back to the party, give some excuse. And Freddie, you've done me a great favor. Yes, and you're going to show your appreciation, of course, of bargain, you know? I'll never forget this, your help. What you just did back there. It'll be healthier for me if you do forget it right now. Killing a man, even a blackmailer. Well, there's some sort of law, isn't there, Uncle Burt? I prefer the other law. The one you mentioned early this evening. An eye for an eye. Yes, you did say that, didn't you, friend? An eye for an eye. You were quite willing to lend a hand, so eager to cooperate. You feel a surge of confidence back at the house, facing the others, as Uncle Burt extends his apologies for being away. Oh, sorry, Lloyd. Veronica, we didn't intend to be gone so long, you know? Quite all right, old man. We went for a spin in Uncle Burt's new car. He's already imagining all sorts of things wrong with it. Well, not at all. I just wanted Freddie to try it out. He's very handy with machines, you know. My, he is talented, isn't he? Oh, I don't know, Veronica. I say, where's Uncle Frank? Oh, he left here shortly after you two did. Said he suddenly remembered a business appointment. Oh, a business appointment? Frank had a business appointment? It must have been rather important for him to walk out when so many drinks are being passed around here. Drinks? Oh, now look here, Freddie. If any drinks were passed, they were passed right by me. Huh? Oh, I'm sorry. What we told Mrs. Fell to act as hostess till we got back. Oh, your uncle's housekeeper made it quite clear to us that if we wanted any drinks while you two were gone, we'd have to fix them ourselves. Dinner, she said, is the only thing she'd attend to this evening. Oh, did she? I told her we'd only be gone a little while, the old gargoyle. Oh, come now, Freddie. Look, I'll attend to the drinks right away. Why don't we all go into the bar? Wonderful idea. You coming, Uncle Bert? Uncle Bert? Huh? Oh, yes. Freddie, just a minute. Uh, what's the matter? Frank, Freddie, you don't suppose Frank's the one? Uncle Frank, what? No, I never thought of that. It is funny he's having a business appointment just after we left the party to keep our appointment with your black nailer. It could have been, you know, we'll find out soon enough. There's not much we can do now. No. I can't believe it, Uncle Frank. Well, Frank's not really your uncle, Freddie. He's my half-brother. I wouldn't put it past him sponging off me the way he's been doing those... Who could that be? Uh, let's see. Good evening, gentlemen. Let's see now. You'd be Mr. Bert Macklin and you'd be Mr. Friend. What is it? My card. Sydney Hocker, private investigator. I don't understand, Mr. Hocker. You will. I'd like to come in for a little talk, if you don't mind. Oh, that's quite impossible. We have dinner guests soon. Of course. Naturally, you wouldn't want them to hear what I had to say. Now, see here. What is the nature of your business? It all ties in rather neatly with that little display you and Freddie here put on a little while ago in the outskirts of town. Oh, Fred, I think we'd best step outside. Close the door. Now, Mr. Hocker, if you'll get to the point... Well, that's shooting a little while ago. That was me that Freddie Boy pumped those bullets into or rather was my overcoat. You'll notice the holes. What's that? Yeah, I rolled up a few blankets, put my overcoat around them, my hat on top, and left it slumped over the wheel of the car. I shot at a dummy. I see. Merely acting on behalf of my client. Client? That's right. These days, I'm forced to take anything that comes along. Not of the business at hand, gents. As you know, my client has definite proof, Mr. Macklin, that the death of a former associate of yours was anything but accidental. Your former associate's name was Edward Wilson. This information could be dropped into a mailbox to the police. Unless I pay. You see, Freddie, it isn't over. What do you want, Mr. Hocker? How much? Well, my client feels in view of what's happened this evening, the attempted murder, that this payment should be 5,000. 5,000? Freddie, do you take it easy, Uncle Bert? We haven't any choice. Now, where do we deliver the money, Mr. Hocker? My office will do, Freddie Boy. You say about nine tomorrow evening. Good night, gents. We're licked, Freddie, beaten, through. It's funny. Funny? I failed to see the humor of it. No, I mean, I'm not a murderer after all, am I? No, that's right. You're not. During dinner, you watch your Uncle Bert closely. His eyes wander about the table, settling on one guest and then another. And you know what he's thinking about, don't you? Uncle Frank could still be the blackmailer, couldn't he? You know that thought is going through your Uncle Bert's mind. Then there's Lloyd Gillis, an associate at the lumber mill. He could be Mr. Hocker's client. Yes, either one of them could know about Bert's dead colleague, the one who was supposed to have committed suicide. And occasionally, Freddie, you feel Uncle Bert's eyes are on you, too. Dinner over, you take Veronica home, then return to the house and find Uncle Bert has something on his mind. Freddie. This girl, Veronica, what do you know about her? Well, how much does one know about anyone you meet on a boat trip? Why? I was just wondering about her. Oh, you mean you think that she could... No, that's nonsense. She's just here visiting a sick sister, helping out for a bit, that's all. No, if you ask me, Uncle Frank's your blackmailer. It could be anybody, Freddie, even you. Me? Oh, now, really, isn't that a bit thick? And you're forgetting you asked me to come here all the way from London a month ago to help you out. Yes, I did ask you. We made a bargain. You were to help me get this blackmailer off my neck. In return, I was to make you my sole heir. Yes, and if I might point out you had already been approached by the blackmailer while I was still in London. That's right. I had been approached, but through an intermediary. That's something else I've been thinking about. Why should a blackmailer share his good fortune with a go-between, eh? Because he doesn't wish to reveal his identity to me or because he doesn't happen to be on the scene at the moment. It could be anywhere. Even in London, Freddie. Oh, really, Uncle Bert, you're letting this thing get you. No, no, you'd better stick with Uncle Frank for your blackmailer. Well, I'm going to turn in, get some sleep. You'll have the money tomorrow night, hm? Yes. I'll see what I can do. Good night, Freddie. You're worried, aren't you, Fred? Because the thing that brought you here from London, your Uncle Bert's money he's promised to leave you in his will is slowly slipping away, and you're powerless to prevent it. Yes, Uncle Bert's past is threatening your future. And you're even more certain of it the following evening as you sit in Sid Hocker's office and wait as he calls his client. Well, this is Hocker. Yes, he's here now. But we'll only have the money. I know, but he says the rest is tied up at the moment. It'll be a week at least before he can manage the rest. He says you'll have the rest in another week. Right. What? Got it. My client isn't very happy, Freddie Boy, but he is giving us more time. One week, Freddie Boy, no more. It's while you're walking back to the house that an idea strikes you suddenly. You want to find Uncle Bert's blackmailer, don't you? Yes. But instead of getting rid of him, you wonder about joining forces with him. Then you could start collecting on Uncle Bert's money now rather than wait years to inherit it. Inside the house, you hurry to the telephone, pick it up, and toy with a dial, counting the clicks. Interesting, isn't it, Fred? If you can learn to count the clicks perfectly and listen again when Sid Hocker calls his client and then remember the sound pattern. You'd have it, wouldn't you, Fred? The phone number of your uncle's blackmailer. Once you know that, Fred, you can contact the blackmailer directly. Offer him your valuable assistance in blackmailing Uncle Bert and split the money with him. One, three. I think I can count the clicks. I think I can do it. With a little more practice, I know I can do it. After that, I'll have everyone just where I want them. Extra pair, take those heels in high, put signal Ethel in your car, and it will re... If you're surprised to hear me sing, just wait till you hear your car sing when you treat it to its first tank full of signal Ethel. Yes, with the premium grade of signals famous go farther gasoline in your tank. It'll be music to your ears when you touch the starter on cold mornings. Presto, your motor starts humming a tune quicker and you can turn on your radio. When it comes to acceleration, signal Ethel will show you pep that makes even Dixieland jazz seem tame. And the knock-free power of signal Ethel will send you uphills as smoothly and effortlessly as a coloratura from the MET sores to high C. And why not? After all, signal Ethel is engineered to bring out the best in any car. So, if it's best performance you want, just remember the famous last verse of that great shower room baritone Marvin Miller. Go farther and have fun and enjoy your every spin to get more out of any car put signal Ethel in. It's been a trial, hasn't it Fred? From the beginning when you first discovered that your Uncle Bert was being blackmailed and your own future fortunes threatened. Yes, you were willing to commit murder to prevent it, but the attempted murder backfire and the blackmailer doubled its price. But now you feel you're in command again that your little plan will pay off. A few days of practice and you can tell any phone number now when you hear it being dialed by counting the clicks, remembering the sound pattern. Yes, all you have to do is listen carefully the next time you're with Sid Hocker when he calls his client. Then a great idea hits you. True, it's a dangerous one, something could go wrong. But it's worth considering carefully, isn't it? And it's constantly on your mind in the days that follow. Then on the evening of your appointment with Hocker to pay the rest of the money you promised, you step into the study, find Uncle Bert standing at the window staring out into the night. It's almost eight, Uncle Bert. Oh, Freddie. Where hadn't I better be getting over to Hocker's? You don't have to be there till nine. Perhaps you won't get there at all. You mean you didn't manage to get the rest of the money? Oh, I got it all right. It's just that I'm not certain I want to turn it over to Hocker's client. I've been trying to make up my mind all day. Oh, now look here, Uncle Bert. I know. I know. If I don't pay up, Mr. Hocker's client will expose me. Perhaps that's what I really want. Get it over with once and for all. Why should I go on paying and paying and paying? He'll bleed me white. But I thought we'd agreed the other day that you'd go on paying for a while at least and bide your time. He's bound to make a mistake. If I could be sure. No, I say pay off this chap. Pay as long as you're able. I don't know. I don't know. Yes, it will take time and money, but it'll be worth it. Perhaps you're right, Freddie. We'll catch up to Mr. Hocker's client. You'll see. All right. Bring the car around. I'll get the money out of the safe. Uncle Bert had you worried for a moment, didn't he, Fred? Yes. You saw your entire plan collapse and all that easy money slipping from your grasp. But suddenly it was all right again. And Uncle Bert agreed to go on paying his blackmailer. Now, with the money tucked away in your coat pocket, you drive downtown to Hocker's office. Good evening, Mr. Hocker. Well, well, well, Mr. Macklin. Johnny on the spot, eh? And with the money? Johnny on the spot, yes. With the money, no. What's this? No, you see, Mr. Hocker, Uncle's had a bit of difficulty raising the money. Now, see here, my client... The only ask is a few hours. I see. Do you think that will be agreeable to your client, Mr. Hocker? No, it might not. Why, don't you ask your client? All right, I will. You sit at the edge of the desk, try to appear calm as Hocker steps to the telephone and picks it up. You listen carefully as he dials. Well, this is Sid Hocker. Right. There's been a delay. Mr. Macklin's having a bit of trouble raising the money. What? Oh, no, no. All he wants is a little more time. Eh? Grant, got it. Let me talk to your client, Mr. Hocker. I only wanted to... I'll answer any questions you have. Is that clear? As you wish. You'll just have to call your client again. I can afford it. My uncle is ready to make a settlement. Tonight. He's willing to pay $20,000 if your client will turn over every shred of evidence he holds against my uncle and drop the matter once and for all. Now, that sounds reasonable. Well, suppose you see if your client thinks so. Right. But mind you, no tricks. No tricks. You've got to make certain, don't you friend? And you listen carefully as he dials the number again. It's the same number he dialed before. There's no mistake. And you're confident now you'll be able to dial that same number when the time comes. Well, Mr. Hocker? It's a gravel. But my client wants the money delivered here by 11 to 9. Good. See you then, Mr. Hocker. You hurry out of the office, downstairs into your car. From the glove compartment, you remove a gun. You slip it into your pocket. As you start back, you see Hocker walk out of the building, head for the parking lot in the rear. Quickly, you move after him. Then in the darkness behind the building, you catch up to him as he slides in behind the wheel of his car. Oh, Hocker. Oh, it's you. Hey, what's the idea of the gun? Move over, hmm? What are you doing? I said move over. That's a good chat. Oh, start up, Hocker. We're going for a bit of a spin. I think this will do, Hocker. A nice dark, deserted road. Splendid place for a chat, hmm? What's the idea? Pull over, old man. All right. Now what? Well, first off, that business about Uncle wanting to make a settlement. That was a bit of a trick on my part, I'm afraid. What? Yes, you see, I was merely interested in having you dial that phone again. What are you talking about? I had to make certain I had the right number. You see, Hocker, by simply listening to the dial as it spins, counting the number of... You mean you can... Oh, yes, yes. I can dial that number again with very little difficulty. Now, are you going to tell me who the blackmailer is? Or must I find out for myself? You don't know yet? Would it be Frank Macklin by any chance? Who's he? Or Lloyd Gillis, perhaps? Never heard of him. I don't recognize the number at all. Of course, it could be a booth somewhere, or a little hideaway, an apartment. I wouldn't know. I see. Well, if you won't cooperate, I shall have to find out by calling. I'm rather certain I'll recognize the voice and I shall be most careful not to reveal my own identity, of course. Now that that's settled, what more do you want with me? I ain't no good to you any more. That's right. I intend to do business with your client, a sort of partnership arrangement in the near future. So that's it. You're going to be part of the scheme from now on, eh? Yes. And my plans do not include you, I'm afraid. Is that upset you? Yes, I'm sure it does. Now, I shouldn't want you around, Mr. Hocker, to slip the word to dear Uncle Burt and tell him what I'm doing. Yeah. What do you mean? Well, it's obvious, quite obvious, isn't it, old man? No, no, wait! Mr. Hocker, as you so aptly put it, you ain't no good to me any more. While watching some Christmas shoppers, I couldn't help thinking if folk shopped as carefully for automobile batteries as they do for Christmas gifts, practically all drivers would decide on signal-deluxe batteries. Just compare the power of various batteries. You'll find signal-deluxe batteries give up to 35% more power for quicker starting and to take care of your radio and other electrical gadgets. That's because of signal's microporous all-rubber separators, which have been called the greatest battery improvement in 20 years. Compare the life of various batteries. You'll see that signal-deluxe batteries are guaranteed up to two-and-one-half times as long as ordinary batteries, a full 30 months on a service basis, which also means that the cost per month is amazingly low, even lower when you deduct the trade and allowance signal dealers are giving for old batteries, and liberal credit terms are available. No wonder more and more shoppers, drivers who really compare batteries, are choosing signal-deluxe batteries at signal service stations. It's done, isn't it, Fred? Hocker is dead, the threat has been removed, and Eli's buried in a shallow grave on the outskirts of town. Now all you have to do is call the blackmailer. And once you've learned his identity without revealing your own, you expect to approach him again later, cautiously, inform him of your plan for a partnership to continue to blackmail your uncle together. And you're certainly won't refuse, because you then reveal his identity to Uncle Bert. You drive back to town, park Hocker's car in the lot behind his office building, and then hurry upstairs. As you sit at Hocker's desk, you glance at your watch, and a smile covers your face. Yes, you're confident now that you've made the right decision, aren't you? Hello, Freddie. Uncle Bert, what are you doing here? Looking for Sid Hocker, I thought I might persuade him to tell me who the blackmailer is, confirm my suspicions with this. Oh, no, no, Uncle Bert, you put that gun away. Hocker's not here. So I see, delivering the money to his client, I suppose. Yes. I think you should know, Freddie, that I contacted the police tonight. You what? Yes, I told the police why I was being blackmailed, that I killed a man some time ago. I was going to give myself up, and I was going to get the blackmailer first. That's why I came here. I was sure Hocker could lead me to the blackmailer. But I thought that... I was going to go on paying? No, I decided against that shortly after you left the house tonight. Oh, really? Well, that wasn't very clever. No, and you're going to regret it, Freddie. What? Oh, I've suspected for a long time you were behind all this. Why, that's ridiculous. Is it? Well, my hunch is right. Empty your pockets. My pockets? I'll give you three. Now, wait, wait. One, two... All right, all right. That's better. Well, you do have the money. My hunch was right. I can explain. So Hocker paid off his client, eh? No, I'm prepared. If you're lonely, listen. I haven't blackmailed you. Look, I'll find the blackmailer for you. None of your tricks. Put that phone down. Well, let me call a number. I swear you'll hear the blackmailer's voice with your own ears. I'm not that stupid, me, for a trick like that. And it is a trick, isn't it, Freddie? Don't want to catch me off guard. Get close enough to me so you can get this gun. No, it's not a trick. We'll see. But you'd better not try any tricks. I'll listen then, yes. But on this extension phone over here. But remember, Freddie, I'll have this gun on you. I've already confessed one murder to the police. Another one won't matter much. Go ahead. Make your call. Everything depends on this phone call, doesn't it, Fred? Your hand is steady, sure as you dial. You know there can't be any mistake. But this is the number Hocker called. You're certain it's the phone number of his client, the blackmailer. Hocker was the blackmailer all the time. No. It was you, Freddie. That phone call you just made was a trick. And a very stupid one. No. No, Uncle Bert, wait! Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program The Whistler each Sunday night at the same time. Signal Oil Company has asked me to remind you that there's an easy way we can all help to make this holiday season happier for ourselves and others. Drive at sensible speeds. Drive at sensible speeds. Drive at sensible speeds. Drive at sensible speeds. Be courteous. And obey traffic regulations. It may save a life. Possibly your own. The children tonight's story were Bill Foreman, Ben Wright, Ed Begley, Constance Cavendish, and Ted D'Corsia. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen, with story by Adrian John Doe, music by Wilbur Hatch, and was transmitted to our troops overseas radio service. The Whistler is entirely fictional and all characters portrayed on The Whistler are also fictional. Any similarity of names or resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Remember at the same time next Sunday another strange tale by The Whistler. Marvin Miller speaking for the Signal Oil Company. Stay tuned now for our Miss Brooks starring Eve Arden, which follows immediately over most of these stations. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.