His thoughts had returned to the mysterious Whisperer when he was given a sudden start by the loud jangle of a bell.
He sprang out of bed. The bell appeared to be in the room. “Like an alarm clock,” he told himself. “But there is no clock.”
He looked at the reflector on the wall. The moonlight was falling upon it—or was that some other form of light? He could not tell. The sound seemed to come from there.
He began pacing the room. The bell still jangled. But of a sudden he halted in amazement. As he crossed before the reflector the sound had ceased for the space of a second, then began again. He tried it again and got the same result.
“That’s strange!” he told himself.
Just then the jangling ceased and in its stead came the familiar voice of the Whisperer:
“Johnny! Johnny Thompson! Are you there? Are you awake?”
“The Whisperer?” Johnny breathed.
“Johnny,” the message went on, “I have an important message for your friends. Phone them at once. The men they want are at 1046 Blair Street. They are in a small, yellow sedan. They are in a garage, having their car repaired. Hurry!”
Johnny did hurry. He called the shack and had Drew on the wire at once.