Notes in the Night

Have you heard the Whistler? The Whistler. I must kill Henry. That was Ambrose Friend, official of an airplane's land.

He found strange notes in the night. You better get away, Ambrose. Take a good long rest. That's one of the better. That was Henry Pierce, Ambrose's partner. He was going fearful of Ambrose. Get this prescription filled, Ambrose.

It'll make you sleep. And you better get away. And that was Ambrose's friend, Dr. Penwick. And this is Ambrose's wife, Doris. What happened, Emmold? Look at me. What have you done? Another Saturday night, and again, CBS presents...

The Whistler. And I, the Whistler, know many things, or I walk by night. I know many strange tales, many secrets hidden in the hearts of men and women, who stepped into the shadows. I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak.

So I tell you tonight the strange story of notes in the night. A storm reaches wildly over the countryside. Beyond that long road tree stands a lonely house half hidden in the darkness of the night.

Not a single light appears from many of its many windows. But up there in that room with a large window, a man stirs fretfully in his sleep. The man is Ambrose Brent, an official of an airplane plant.

But it's not the storm that stirs his uneasy slumber. It's something else, something far more sinister. Something that has happened many times in the past few weeks. Now he stirs again, moans loudly, and suddenly sits old upright in his huge bed.

Who's there? Who's there, I say? A room. Turn on the lamp and blows. You will see. I can't imagine what's happening to me. Just nerves, I guess. Another note. Another one. I must kill Henry.