Five big corporations and the two
railroads have taken the thing up in dead earnest. They mean it,
and you can bet they'll get there! They are right deep down into
it. Pinkerton has taken hold under their orders, and his best
man, Birdy Edwards, is operating. The thing has got to be
stopped right now.
"Now read the postscript."
Of course, what I give you is what I learned in business; so it
goes no further. It's a queer cipher that you handle by the yard
every day and can get no meaning from.
McMurdo sat in silence for some time, with the letter in his
listless hands. The mist had lifted for a moment, and there was
the abyss before him.
"Does anyone else know of this?" he asked.
"I have told no one else."
"But this man--your friend--has he any other person that he would
be likely to write to?"
"Well, I dare say he knows one or two more."
"Of the lodge?"
"It's likely enough."
"I was asking because it is likely that he may have given some
description of this fellow Birdy Edwards--then we could get on
his trail."
"Well, it's possible. But I should not think he knew him.
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