He was, however, curious about many things. This room that had a way of growing small, with its strange light where there were no lamps, intrigued him. The matter of the locked door of the previous day had been solved. Felix had been experimenting with a new type of time lock and had forgotten to throw the electrical switch that controlled it. "But that living picture on the wall!" Johnny thought to himself. "How is one to explain that? "And the whisper? Where does that come from? It can't be a broadcast, and he can't be close at hand." Drew had told him the evening before that Grace Krowl had said she had heard the Whisperer in her room more than a mile away. "The message was not the same," he told himself. "Not nearly the same. She did not get my message. I did not get hers. He is a very particular person, this Whisperer." His thoughts went back to that day he bought the express package that had come so near causing his death. "And I had those bonds!" he groaned aloud. How was this affair to end? Would Drew Lane and his band come up with these outlaws? Would there be a battle? Would he, Johnny Thompson, be in at the finish? He devoutly hoped so. He thought again of Madame LeClare and her fine children who had lost a father. He saw the dark, smiling eyes of Alice. "As long as God gives us breath!" he repeated. It was a pledge and a prayer. 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. "Yes," Drew said, "Tom is here with me, and so are the Captain and Spider. Thanks for the tip, Johnny. We are on our way at once." "Well, that's that!" Johnny sighed. He knew, though he regretted it tremendously, that he could not hope to join them in this adventure.