THE ROBBERS’ CODE
“The next word is ‘paint,’” said Joe. “What does that stand for, Bob?”
“Just a minute, till I find it,” replied his friend, and after turning over several pages found the word he sought.
“It means ‘to-night,’” he said. “Read what we’ve got so far.”
“Motor truck—silk—Castleton Road—to-night,” read Joe. “That’s clear enough so far. The next code word is water.”
“‘No guards,’” said Bob. And so they went, until the completed message read as follows:
“Motor truck—silk—Castleton Road—to-night—no guards—hold up—take everything to usual place—notify when job is done.”
“That’s the message that caused the theft of my father’s merchandise!” exclaimed Herb, jumping to his feet. “If we had only had the key then, when there was still time, we could have prevented the hold-up.”
“Very likely we could,” agreed Bob soberly. “But we may be able to do the next best thing, Herb—get the stuff back again. If we make a copy of this key and then leave the book just where we found it, the thieves will never dream that anybody knows their secret, and they’ll keep right on using the same code.”
“I see,” said Herb slowly. “And then if we hear any more code messages we can translate them with this key, and likely get on the trail of the crooks.”
“Exactly!” replied Bob. “Now, I have a notebook here, and if one of you fellows will dictate that code, I’ll copy it down and we’ll get out of here while the getting’s good. There’s no telling what minute some of the gang will show up.”
“I’ll dictate,” volunteered Joe. “But while you and I are doing that, Bob, why can’t Jimmy and Herb act as lookouts? Then if any of the gang comes along they can give us warning and we’ll clear out.”
“That’s good advice,” agreed Bob, and Herb and Jimmy went outside and up the path a short distance, where they crouched, listening, with every muscle tense to warn their comrades if danger threatened.
Meanwhile, in the cabin, Bob’s pencil flew at furious speed as Joe dictated. The code was very complete, and consisted of over two hundred words, each word, in some cases, standing for a whole phrase. Bob wrote as he had never written before, but in spite of his utmost efforts it took over an hour to copy the entire list. He and Joe expected every minute to hear Herb or Jimmy give the alarm, but the woods remained calm and peaceful, and they finished their task without interruption.
“There’s the last word, Bob!” exclaimed Joe, with a sigh of relief. “Let’s put that little book back on the shelf where we found it, and make a quick getaway.”
“Yes, we’ve got to make tracks,” agreed Bob. “It will be away after dark now when we get back to the camp. If we don’t hurry they will be organizing searching parties for us.”
With great care he placed the notebook back on the shelf, under the board, and then gazed searchingly around the cabin to make sure that no signs of their visit were left behind to warn the thieves. After assuring himself that everything was exactly as they had found it, he and Joe left the rude habitation, snapping the big padlock through the hasp.
“That’s a swell lock,” observed Joe, grinning. “It looks strong enough to discourage anybody, but Jimmy’s fish-hook licked it to a frazzle in no time.”
“That’s the way with a lot of padlocks,” said Bob, as the two started off in search of the others. “It would take dynamite to break them open, but they’re easy enough to pick.”
“If you know how, that is,” supplemented Joe, with a grin.
“Oh, that’s understood,” replied Bob. “It’s hard to do anything without the know-how.”
They soon picked up the two sentinels, who were greatly relieved to see them.
“I thought you were going to spend the night there,” grumbled Jimmy. “What happened? Did you both fall asleep in the middle of it?”
“You’re an ungrateful rascal, Doughnuts,” answered Joe. “Here Bob and I have worked like slaves for the last hour, while all you had to do was loaf around in the nice fresh air. Then instead of thanking us, you growl because we took so long.”
“Well, don’t get sore,” protested Jimmy. “I suppose we should all be so happy over this discovery that we shouldn’t mind anything. I’ll bet your father will be tickled to death, Herb.”
“I guess he will,” agreed Herb. “Although we’re still a long way from getting back the stolen silk. There’s no doubt that we’ve struck a mighty promising clue, that much is sure.”
Bob was about to make some remark when he checked himself and halted in a listening attitude.
“I think some one is coming!” he exclaimed, in a low tone. “I’m sure I heard voices. Let’s duck into the underbrush, quick!”
They were not a moment too soon, for they had hardly reached a place of concealment behind a great fallen tree when two men appeared around a bend in the path. One was the same whom they had followed a few hours before, while the other was a stranger to them. This man was of a desperate and unprepossessing appearance, and a bulge under his coat suggested the possible presence of a weapon.
The boys congratulated themselves that this formidable looking personage had not arrived half an hour sooner, for they were of course unarmed and would have been hard put to it had they been caught in the cabin.
They lay snugly hidden in their retreat behind the fallen tree until the voices of the two men had died away in the direction of the lonely cabin. Then they returned cautiously to the path and hastened toward the main road. This they reached without meeting any one else, and set out for camp at a pace that caused Jimmy to cry for mercy. But the shadows lay long athwart the path, camp was still an indefinite distance away, and they hurried the unfortunate youth along at a great rate in spite of his piteous protests.
“It will be the best thing in the world for you, Doughnuts,” said Joe unfeelingly. “What you need is plenty of exercise to take that fat off you.”
“Besides, think of what a fine appetite you’ll have when we reach camp,” laughed Bob.
“I’ve got all the appetite now that I know how to have,” groaned Jimmy. “You fellows haven’t a heart between you. Where other people keep their hearts, you’ve all got chunks of Vermont granite.”
“Flash a little speed, and don’t talk so much,” advised Herb. “Be like the tramp that the fellow met going down the street one day with an expensive rug.”
“Who wants to be like a tramp?” objected Jimmy.
“You do, when you want to loaf all the time,” retorted Herb. “But now I’ll tell you a good joke to make the way seem shorter. Jimmy got me started, and now I’ll have to get it out of my system.”
“Is it about a tramp?” asked Jimmy suspiciously.
“Yes. And it’s a pippin,” Herb assured him. “It seems this tramp was running down the street with an expensive rug over his shoulder, and somebody stopped him and began to ask questions.
“‘Where did you steal that rug from?’ asked the suspicious citizen.
“‘I didn’t steal it,’ answered the tramp, trying to look insulted. ‘A lady in that big house down the street handed it to me and told me to beat it, and I am.’”
“Say, that’s a pretty good joke, for you, Herb,” said Bob, laughing with the others.
“Oh, that’s nothing. I’ve got others just as good,” said Herb eagerly. “Now, here’s one that I made up myself the other day, but I forgot to tell it to you. Why——”
“Suffering tomcats!” exclaimed Joe. “Don’t tell us anything that you made up yourself, Herb! Or, at least, wait until we get back and have supper, so that we’ll be strong enough to stand it.”
“That’s what I say,” agreed Jimmy. “I’m so hungry that I can’t think of anything but supper, anyway. I know your joke is as good as usual, Herb, but I wouldn’t be able to appreciate it just now.”
“It’s discouraging to a high-class humorist to have to throw away his choice offerings on a bunch like this,” said Herb, in an injured voice. “Some day, when I am far away, you’ll wish you had listened to those gems of humor.”
“I’d like to believe you, but that hardly seems possible,” said Bob. “Can you imagine the day ever coming when we’d actually want to sit down and listen to Herb’s line of humor?”
“My imagination isn’t up to anything like that,” replied Joe. “But, of course, you don’t really ever have to ask Herb to spill some of those jokes. The hard thing is to keep him from doing it.”
“Oh, all right,” retorted Herb. “Only, remember that it is ‘easier to criticize than to create.’”
For some time after this they plodded along hoping to reach camp before it got entirely dark. Bob was the first to see a distant point of light through the trees, and he emitted a whoop that startled the others.