 And now stay tuned for the program that has rated tops in popularity for a longer period of time than any other West Coast program in radio history. The Signal Oil Program, The Whistler. Signal, the famous go farther gasoline, invite you to sit back and enjoy another strange story by The Whistler. I'm The Whistler and I know many things for 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, The House on Hainesley Boulevard. The old Hackett Place on Hainesley Boulevard was a monument to the past, built by the very first of the Hacketts to arrive in California good many years before. It clung now to its former grandeur with a sort of quiet determined tenacity. But one evening shortly after midnight, the quiet of the neighborhood was suddenly shattered. The air torn with a startling cry. Fire! Fire! Yes, the cry of fire knifing through the stillness of tree-line Hainesley Boulevard. The old house threatened as flames lead to envelop it, and immediately the street was alive with activity. And miraculously, coming swiftly to the rescue, a fire engine. Its crew working skillfully, fighting off the threat of destruction. And then out of the crowd a man appeared. Oh, Mr. Hackett, the house is safe. Yeah, I see. No one in there is there, Mr. Hackett. Your aunt Leona away? She's away, thank heaven. Spending the night in Glendale. How did it happen, Lieutenant Mullen? How did it start? I don't know. I went past about half an hour ago going on duty. I know. Aunt Leona will be grateful to you, Lieutenant. Oh, forget it. Funny thing, though, Mr. Hackett, thought I saw somebody running away from the place. Huh? Yeah, that's right. Well, I'll see you later, Mr. Hackett. Sure. And thanks, Mullen. I'd have been sick if anything had happened to the old place. You are sick inside, aren't you, Frank? Because your plan fails so completely. And even as you thank Police Lieutenant Mullen for his swift action, you'll inwardly curse yourself forgetting that he passes this way regularly, and that only a matter of a half an hour destroyed your timing. And you have to have money soon. $5,000 to clear your gambling debt with Dino de Costa, or the payoff will be your life. Even with the damage very slight, the scene with Aunt Leona the next morning is an unpleasant one, as she surveys the scorched section at the rear of the old place. Disgraceful. Oh, there's very little damage, Aunt Leona. It isn't the extent of the damage. It's your carelessness that disturbs me. I've left you everything I have in my will, and all I ask in return is that you assume some responsibility and make things easier for me while I'm still here. Look, Aunt Leona, it could have been much worse. You worry yourself sick over this house. It's my home, isn't it? It's my home too, Aunt Leona. Half mine, half yours, according to Cappy's will. And it'll be all yours when I die, along with everything else I have. But I'm not dead yet, Frank. That's the same way you're to accept Mr. Fleming's offer to buy, if you ask me. No one's asking you. The old argument sounds even more hollow than usual, doesn't it, Frank? You're not getting anywhere with Aunt Leona, and you wish she were out of your way. You can't help thinking how present your situation would be if something happened to her. You'd have everything you wanted. You could square yourself with Dino and have all you'd ever need besides. And there isn't much time, is there, Frank? Dino's given you ten days. You can't stall much longer. Later that day, you seek out the only solace these last few months have offered. Adele Richards. Lovely. Beautiful. You could marry her if you could support her. Couldn't you, Frank? She's a stubborn old woman. Fleming's offered his bought at most of the other houses along the street, but she won't sell. She's gonna put up an office building eventually. Probably want to sell that. Oh, sure, when it's too late. Oh, Cappy had the right idea. Cappy? Captain Hackett, Matt Leona's husband. He up and left about eight years ago, went out one night for some pipe tobacco. And so he said, never came back. I don't blame him. But then he had some money. They could afford to run. I can't. You would have run, Frank. From her and from that infernal old house? Yes. You darling, never. Oh, great. Don't answer it. It's silly. I have to. Yes. Yes, he's here. I'll call him. It's for you, Frank. It's a dinner to cook. You know you're here. Okay. Hello, Dino. I thought I might catch you at your girlfriends. I was reading the papers, Frank. That was a dumb thing to do. Set and fire out of your house. You're nuts. No, Dino, you're wrong. I didn't do it. Sure you did, and it didn't work. Just wanted you to know that from Angle, Frank, I don't like it. What difference does it make to you what I do to settle with you? I don't like strings on anything that's mine. That five grand you owe me. I want it on time, but I want it clean. Remember that, Frank. Hello? Hello? Frank, what is it? I'm sorry, honey. I've got a lot on my mind. Something to deal with gambling and Dino de Coster. That's obvious. What is it? It's... Well, might as well know. I'm into Dino for... $5,000. I've got to get hold of the money some way. Frank, why don't you go to your aunt? Tell her everything. She'll be able... She'll blow her stack. If she did that, she'd cut me out of her will, everything. No. I'll have to get the money for Dino... some other way. Yes, Frank. Some other way. And the time is short. Very short. It's ironic, isn't it? All Hackett House isn't worth much to anybody, except Aunt Leona and Mr. Fleming, who wants very much to buy it. You could settle your debt with Dino if she'd agree to take Mr. Fleming's offer. That night after Leona retires, you're groping for a solution when the phone rings. Hello? Mr. Hackett? John Fleming. Oh, yes, Mr. Fleming. Hope it's not too late to bother you, but about the house. Have you talked it out with your aunt? I know. That is, I have talked to her, Mr. Fleming, and well, she's weakening, but... Nothing definite yet, though. Nothing settled, eh? Oh, no. You know how it is. Living there so long, she's pretty attached to the place. I know, but we can't stall this thing indefinitely. I wish you'd get a decision soon. Oh, I will, sir. Very soon. And it's going to be a favorable one, I'm sure. She is weakening. Good. We'll talk again soon, then, eh? You wish it were true, don't you, Frank? There was even a slight sign of Aunt Leona weakening in her stand against selling the house. The next morning, you decide to bring the subject up once more. When, as you step out into the yard, you hear voices raised angrily. Aunt Leona's voice. And the voice of old Bosun Pete, an old friend. Former shipmate of Captain Hackett, who now does odd jobs about the place. Don't mess my rose bed, my favorite rose bed. And what do you do? Neglect it? Ignore it? Oh, the soil's been worked to death there, Miss Hackett. The best thing to do is rip all them prickly old scraggs out of there. Don't you dare talk that way about my roses. Your roses. Your house. Don't you ever think of anything of anybody else's? Like my patience? Where's my thinner on you, Miss? I want to tell you right here. Now, look here, Bosun. If you don't enjoy the way I do things, you don't have to stay around, you know. All right. I will quit, and with pleasure. Goodbye to you, Miss Leone. Old fool. Aunt Leona. Oh, Frank. Well, I suppose you heard. Who didn't? Well, the neighbors must have heard you too. Aunt Leona, you can't send that old gent away. Can't I? That Hackett said he was ever placed here as long as he wished it. Captain Hackett's been gone over seven years, Frank. I'd say that makes him legally dead. And dead people don't dictate to me. All life, one's either. Something in Aunt Leona's manner has suddenly set you to wandering. Wondering if the rose bed might hold a grim secret of your aunts. Perhaps even the secret of her husband's strange disappearance. And you're determined to find out. At dinner that night, you ask her an important question. Uh, this weekend, Aunt Leona, going to Glendale as usual? Cousin Elliott? Thought I might. Why? Nothing. Just wondered. If I do go, I hope I can trust you to remain in the premises and look after the place better than last time. Oh, of course you can, Aunt Leona. I'll look after the place very well this time. Tonight, I'm predicting again. This time, a sight you're going to see oftener and oftener as the days grow warmer. Overheated cars parked at the side of the road to let their steaming radiators cool off. To make sure this annoying occurrence doesn't mar your summer driving, fun signal service stations are now ready to serve you with these useful little items to rejuvenate your cooling system. Radiator cleaner to remove the dust. Radiator cleaner to remove clogging, scale, sludge and rust. Rust preventive to protect radiators of old cars or new ones from further corrosion. Radiator sealer that stops small leaks in a jiffy. Plus new fan belts and radiator hose in case yours need replacing. And these mind you are just five items from your signal dealer's complete line of recognized quality motoring needs, which include Lee tires, nationally advertised brands of spark plugs and windshield wiper blades, plus many others. So when you drive into a signal dealer's to fill up with the famous go farther gasoline, remember he's also headquarters for a complete line of fine accessories and services to help your car run better, look better and last longer. It's a haunt, isn't it Frank? A growing belief and quite possibly something that will help you considerably in your contest with Aunt Leona. It's far more than a test of individual wills, isn't it Frank? The days are slipping by and Dino de Costa will collect your gambling debt with him one way or another. And now with your aunt spending the weekend in Glendale, giving you some time alone on the premises, another more promising thought has entered your head. That's why you set to work as soon as she's gone. Set to work digging into the rose bed, digging deep. But all your efforts avail you exactly nothing, only a ruined flower bed. And at work the following Monday, you get the angry phone call you expected. Frank? Frank, how could you? How could you allow that terrible man to take his revenge this way? Terrible, terrible man? Boson Pete, he's dug up my rose bed, ruined it for good, and you let him do it you when you said you'd watch the place. Well, I'm sorry, Aunt Leona. I only left for a short time. I had no idea that Boson would do such a thing. I'm going to get the police on him. Lieutenant Mullin, I'll report him to Lieutenant Mullin. That evening as you sit on the front porch of Hackett House with Aunt Leona, you're a little hesitant to bring up the matter of Mr. Fleming's offer, aren't you, Frank? Yes, because you know she's still upset about the rose beds. They're sitting back, puffing on a cigarette, trying to think of some way you can ease into the subject when... Someone's coming up the path, Frank. Oh, yeah. Looks like Boson. Boson? Well, well, I've got something to say to him. Now, now, take it easy, Aunt Leona. I'm safe from the looks of that walkie. He's had a few beers. Hello, Frank. Wish you any? Well, you have a nerve coming back. Showing your face around here after what you've done. What are you talking about? I'm talking about your tearing up my rose beds. Me? I didn't have nothing to do with them rose beds. I just come from my money. Your money? What money? You know what money. Long before Cappy went away, he said I should have part of his money when he died. Oh? Did he tell you that? He told you to, and you know it. Really? I don't seem to recall. Listen, Miss Leone, I'm warning you. I better get my money or you'll be sorry. Are you threatening me? Well, call it what you want. I'll get my money if I have to choke it out of you. Come on, Boson. Let's take a walk. Let go, Frank. I ain't finished here yet. Yes, you are. Come on. You lead him away, Frank. The Boson shouting threats. Walk him down the street for several blocks to calm him down. Then you leave him. You feel sorry for the Boson, don't you? But as you turn, start back for the house. He's quickly forgotten. You have other things in your mind. Dino, Antliona, Adele. You haven't seen her in days, have you? Then as you reach the crest of the hill, sight Hacket House, silhouetted against the sky, you stop. Suddenly an idea hits you. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Sure. Why didn't I think of that before? Antliona! Antliona! No, no thanks. Look, I just got an idea, Antliona. Can't be left you several lots up in Glendale, didn't he? Not far from Cousin Elly's place? Yes, that's right. Antliona, why couldn't we have the house move there? Just have it picked up all the way. Move? To the lots in Glendale. Why not, Antliona? Why not? Why not, indeed? It would be nice being close to Elly. Sure, sure it would. But wait, wouldn't it cost a bit of money? I don't know. Look, let me talk to Fleming. Now, don't rush me into this, Frank. I want some time to think it over. Okay. Okay, you think it over. But I've got another idea. And I'm going to see Fleming about it first thing in the morning. Antliona, I talked to Mr. Fleming this morning, and he called me back a few minutes ago. His company is willing to move the house for us. Stand all the expense. Oh, really, Frank? How about it? Do I tell him it's a deal? Good. Now listen, they're anxious to get down this thing right away so you'd better scout around, see if you can find us another place to live for the time being. There's a cottage just down the corner from here and up the street. It's for rent. I saw it this morning. Check on it right away. I'll see you tonight, Antliona. Hello? Hello, darling. What's this? Well, it's a long story, but I'll be... I'll... Can you hear me? Hang up. I'll call you later, Adele. But, Frank! Later, Adele. All right. What's the idea, Dino? I came to call. That's the idea. Wasn't your neighborhood as the saying goes and decide to drop in? You're not the social type, Dino. Oh, I ain't. So we won't visit very long. Five more days, Frank. Or are you keeping score, too? I know. And it looks good, Dino. I'm not so sure. Five days, Frank. That's all the time you got. I need to do it myself. Bad. Five days. It's got to be... I'll try, Dino, but I can't... I'd do that, Frank, if I were you. Just as if your life depended on it. Dino means business, doesn't he, Frank? Five more days, and that's all. Somehow you managed to move yourself and Antley owner to the little cottage not far from Hackett House in two days' time. And then you go to Mr. Fleming's office to press for payment for your property. So any time your company wants to start moving, the house is fine with us. Good, my boy. Good. I'll file for the moving permit right away. Sometimes there are little delays in getting it and sometimes not. But we'll move the house as soon as we get the permit. Well, as a matter of fact, Mr. Fleming, when you move the house is of no importance to me. I don't even want to hear about Hackett House until it's safely planted on those lots in Glendale. I'm... Well, about the money for the property. Since Antley-Own and I own the property jointly, can we each receive a check for half the total amount? Perfectly agreeable with us, and I should say if there's some rush about it, our accounting department could get the checks out for you right away. Oh, fine, Mr. Fleming, fine. There is some rush about it. It's a relief, isn't it, Frank? You leave Fleming's office fortified with two checks, one made out to Antley-Own for her half, the other to you for exactly the amount you must pay Dino de Costa. $5,000, your half, all for Dino. You're glad you have the money for Dino, but after you pay him, you'll be no better off than you were before. Now you know you'll never do it, unless something happens to your Antley-Owner. As you walk along the busy downtown street, you suddenly see an old friend right in front of you. Well, Bolson, how are you? Hello, Frank. Look, I've been wanting to get in touch with you. I wanted to, well, ask Miss Leonie to forgive me for the other night. Oh, forget it. I didn't mean to say all those things, but, well, I kinda needed the money. Oh? Things pretty tough? Yeah, pretty tough. Well, I'll see what I can do, Bolson. Oh, would you, Frank? You know I didn't mean to harm her and nothing like that. Where are you staying? A Siemens Hotel. I'll get in touch. You'll watch Bolson as he turns away, disappears into the noonday crowd. Now you know what you're going to do, don't you, Frank? But Bolson is your answer. Soon you'll have everything you want, including a debt. Yes. Bolson Pete has given the solution, hasn't he? That night, a little after midnight, you make it a point to run into another old friend, Lieutenant Mullen of the police department, on his way to work. And as the two of you stand and chat on the street corner, you manage to steer the conversation in the direction you want it to go. Yeah, I was beginning to wonder about Bolson. Haven't seen him in the neighborhood for some time. Well, he's living downtown now, I understand. He already had a run-in with your aunt, is that right? About the rose beds? Yeah, quite a session it was. He'd been drinking. Well, I really don't think he meant what he said. Threatening her, you know. Really? Still, you can't be too sure. He's got quite a temper and a gun. I didn't know that. Yes. But I don't think you have to worry too much about the Bolson. Oh, here comes my street carer. I'll see you later, Mr. Hackett. Good night. Good night, Lieutenant. You're pleased, aren't you, Frank? Satisfied with your meeting with Lieutenant Mullen? The following afternoon, you phone the Siemens Hotel. Ask Bolson to pick you up that night. Drive you out to the cottage. You've made a decision, haven't you, Frank? Set your plan and the motion. Your debt with Dino will be settled. And when it's all over, you won't have to share the money from the sale of Hackett House with anyone. And you'll have all your Aunt Leona's money besides. Late that night, you're waiting on a quiet side street for Bolson to pick you up. And finally, he rounds the corner and pulls up at the curb. Hello, Frank. Right on time, Bolson. Yeah. You shouldn't want to keep Leona waiting, you know. I'm sure she'll be up this late. She's like a funny time at night. Oh, you're wrong, Bolson. The time's perfect. Just perfect for this. Ten minutes later, you're parked in front of the cottage and you're wearing Bolson's P-jacket and cap. Bolson is out of sight, slumped down on the seat beside you, still unconscious. You glance at your watch, then slip out of the car and hurry quietly up to the porch of the cottage to wait. It'll all be over soon, would it, Frank? Once you get away, you'll wreck the car. Bolson will be killed. And the murder weapon will be found in his pocket. You'll glance at your watch again a little after 12 and down the street. And you'll see him approaching right on schedule. It's Lieutenant Mullen. It's Frank. Frank, did you forget your key? What in the world are you doing in the Bolson's cap? As your antler Leona slumps to the floor, you whirl, run back to the car, jump inside. Through the rear-view mirror, you can see Lieutenant Mullen running toward you. And as you put the car in gear, you'll let the Bolson's cap fall to the street. Bye-bye, Lieutenant. And thanks. Thanks for being right on time. Like a spare tire without air. That's just how much good an oil filter does your car when the filter cartridge inside is filled up with sludge and goo. It can no longer do the job it was put there to do. And what is that job? Well, for every one gallon of gasoline an engine uses, it sucks in up to 9,000 gallons of air. And air carries gritty dust which gets into the oil and has to be strained out by the oil filter. Also, tiny metal particles wearing off engine parts must be trapped by the oil filter so they won't act as an abrasive on other costly parts. In recognition of the importance of oil filters, signal dealers are this month joining in the national program of the Purilator Company to check the condition of oil filters. If he finds your filter cartridge too clogged to give your motor proper protection, your signal dealer can replace it with a genuine Purilator filter cartridge. After all, the best two ways we know to prevent engine wear are one, a good clean oil filter. And two, a change to new signal premiums, the heavy duty type oil that reduces engine wear due to lubrication, 50%. A crowd had gathered in the usually quiet side street on the fringe of downtown Los Angeles. Boken excited whispers stared at the body on the sidewalk. A few feet away, Lieutenant Mullin stood by, puffing slowly on a cigarette, and his face wore a puzzled frown. Then another officer pushed his way through the crowd and joined him. Uh, this one dead, Lieutenant? Yeah. Name is Frank Hackett. He killed your lady back there at the cottage? Uh-huh. Tried to make it look like Bosen did it. Bosen? The man over there in the Essex. How's he doing? Oh, he's finally coming around. Uh, how'd you nail this Hackett fella? Saw him run out of the cottage his aunt had rented after I heard the shots. Thought at first it was Bosen the way he was dressed. I took off after him. I never caught him either except that after he turned the corner he had to abandon the car and go down the foot. That's when my bullet nailed him. Something go wrong with his car? No, the street was blocked. Blocked? Yeah, the movers were hauling a house away. They blocked the whole street. Hackett here couldn't drive the car around it. Funny thing too, it was his home they were moving. Hackett house. Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program the Whistler each Sunday night at this same time. And before you start your vacation trip be sure to ask your signal dealer for a free copy of Lane's Guide, a booklet prepared by an independent travel organization to help you find good eating and lodging places. While no pocket-sized booklet can include all the good hotels, motels and dining places, Lane's Guide covers a representative selection in hundreds of cities and towns and a copy of this handy publication is yours free at Signal stations. Each and tonight's story were Bill Foreman, John Stevenson, Norma Varden, Gene Bates, Cliff Arquette, Herbert Rawlinson, Frank Richards and Charles Seele. 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 by the Armed Forces 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 to tune in at this same time next Sunday when the Signal Oil Company will bring you another strange story by the Whistler. Marvin Miller speaking for the Signal Oil Company. Stay tuned now for our Miss Brooke starring Eve Arden, which follows immediately over most of these stations. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.