Both young fellows remain seated at the table in silence for a time, till Claude somewhat sharply asks,—
“Well, what do you make of it?”
“Humph,” grunts his friend, “I think I’ll postpone my decision till to-morrow.” Here he glances towards the verandah door, round the jamb of which flutters the white edge of a female’s dress. “The letter has a secret meaning I’ve little doubt. By-the-bye, I didn’t notice these figures before.”
“Oh, I did, but I don’t think they are part of the letter.”
“You bet they are, Claude. I wonder what I, cross, six, nought, double l,—or is it H?—two, nought, can mean.”
Claude leans forward, and seizing the other’s arm said, “I didn’t understand myself till you read them.”
“What do they mean then?”
“They are chemical symbols for iodine mixed with water. Yes, I60H20 can mean nothing else.”
Nothing more can the youths make out of the hidden meaning of the letter, if hidden meaning there was. Before long all save Claude retire to rest. That individual, believing that no sleep will come to him that night, sits in front of the fireplace, puzzling over what part iodine—if iodine is meant by the symbols—can play in unveiling the secret message that he believes lies in the letter. The kerosene lamp is turned down low; and the room, lit only from the great fireplace, becomes darker each minute. Claude, having thought his active brain tired, is almost dropping off to sleep, when a sudden noise occurring in the room causes him to spring from his chair. A few shrill squeals in the dark corner of the room denote that the cause of the disturbance is the black cat Te Kooti, who has caught a mouse. Half-a-dozen books have fallen from a shelf by the door, as evidence of her prowess. After several vain attempts to get the blind side of Mr. Mouse, the feline namesake of the Maori patriot has employed a literary ambush to aid her in her plans, and with perfect success.
“Confound the cat!” growls the awakened one; “get out of the room, you brute. Wonderful, women always will have them in the house!”