Junior reached out eagerly. “Gee, Mr. Mason, let me take a...”
“Junior,” Mrs. Gentrie rebuked, “don’t interfere with what Mr. Mason is doing.”
Mason said, “The underside seems to be all scratched up. It feels rough to the touch. Let’s just examine those scratches. We’ll tilt it over here near the window so that the light comes across it from the side, and...”
“It’s a code,” Rebecca shrilled excitedly. “Something written on there... scratched on the tin! I knew it! I just knew it! I told you so, Florence. You wouldn’t listen to me, but...”
Mason whipped a pencil from his pocket and tore a sheet of paper from his notebook. “Will someone write these letters as I read them off?” he asked.
Rebecca said eagerly, “I will.”
Mason handed her the paper and pencil, tilting the lid, so that he could get a side lighting on the letters as he read.
“CKDACK CJIAJ DLACC HEDBCE CEIADD GIKADC CLDGBD KFBCH CLGGBJ.”
Mason took the piece of paper from Rebecca and carefully checked the letters she had written with the original.
“I don’t see how this could have had anything to do with what happened across the street,” Mrs. Gentrie said, frankly puzzled.