For instance, I discovered a most original cipher the
other day."
"Did it lead to anything?" Furley asked curiously.
"Not at present. I discovered it, studying a telegram from
Norway. It was addressed to a perfectly respectable firm of
English timber merchants who have an office in the city. This was
the original: `Fir planks too narrow by half.' Sounds harmless
enough, doesn't it?"
"Absolutely. What's the hidden meaning?"
"There I am still at a loss," Julian confessed, "but treated with
the cipher it comes out as `Thirty-eight steeple on barn.'"
Furley stared for a moment, then he lit his pipe.
"Well, of the two," he declared, "I should prefer the first
rendering for intelligibility."
"So would most people," Julian assented, smiling, "yet I am sure
there is something in it--some meaning, of course, that needs a
context to grasp it."
"Have you interviewed the firm of timber merchants?"
"Not personally. That doesn't come into my department. The name
of the man who manages the London office, though, is Fenn--
Nicholas Fenn."
Furley withdrew the pipe from his mouth. His eyebrows had come
together in a slight frown.
"Nicholas Fenn, the Labour M.P.?"
"That's the fellow. You know him, of course?"
"Yes, I know him," Furley replied thoughtfully. "He is secretary
of the Timber Trades Union and got in for one of the divisions of
Hull last year."
"I understand that there is nothing whatever against him
personally," Julian continued, "although as a politician he is of
course beneath contempt.
Pages:
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26