Secret of Chalk Point

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 Whistler's strange story, the secret of chalk point. chalk point is a tiny strip of land that extends into the Pacific, and it lands ends Stan's Jaeger House, a large and gloomy old structure built at the turn of the century, barely visible now in the swirling mist, the heavy fog that clings to the coast of northern California.

And in that fog, strolling casually along the beach, Kay Fallon, young and attractive, Apollo coat wrapped tightly around her, shutting out the chill of the evening, And suddenly she stops, peers ahead into the grey shadows.

A man. Yes, the figure of a man walking in from the sea, moving through the fog towards you, Kay, staggering now and falling on the beach. What's wrong? Are you hurt? The ship went down.

A shipwreck? Yes. Yes. Yes... Oh... Oh... Oh... Oh, hands gloss. When did it happen? Where? Up... up the coast... fog... it... hit the rocks. Out there. Here. Let me help you with that stuff. Oh...

tired... tired... been in the water for hours. Seemed like years. Years. What trip were you on? Gooner, star of Shanghai. My ship, she's gone, all hands gone. Oh, my fault, oh my fault. Here, can you walk?

Huh, I think so. Take me to the house, please. The house? My house, up there in the point. Your house? You've got to get back. Sit back. Home. Your puzzle for a moment, aren't you, Kay?