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. He is just telling me the news that came to him by way of business. How would he know this Pinkerton man?”