“B-M-X—B-M-X—B-M-X.”
“That may be the code for ‘yes,’” said Price. “Go and see, Little.”
Little went out to examine the code. While he was away the glass kept up a monotonous B-M-X, B-M-X.
Little came back. “Can’t make it out,” he said; “it’s not code for ‘yes.’ B-M-X is V——”
“Don’t tell us what it is,” Alec interrupted. “Come on, what’s your name?”
Before he got the question out the glass was writing again. A steady string of some thirty to forty unintelligible letters. “F-G-F-K-V-H-M-D-O-H-O-M-X-O-F-T-T-O-M-U-D-A-N-M-F-G-U-F-N-V-C-F-K-M-T-M-F-N.”
“Can you repeat all that?” Price asked.
The glass repeated it a second and a third time without variation.
“Looks as if we are getting something,” said Alec. “Now please give us a message.”
The glass replied at considerable length, and again repeated the reply three times over. Thus it went on for the best part of an hour, answering questions in code, and repeating each answer three times.