R DB
R DB R
R DB D
RE B D
R D RD
R DB
RE I
Sparks pulled off the harness and swung about to look at George Belding.
“Is that about what you heard?” he demanded.
“Yes, sir. At least, in part.”
“Well, hang it all!” cried Sparks. “That’s a still newer combination. It’s neither ‘Colodia’ nor ‘help.’ I tell you it beats me, George.”
When Belding left the wireless room he took with him the piece of paper on which Sparks had written. The letters in combination seemed to mean nothing; but he showed them to Whistler and Al Torrance when he found those two chums together.
“Looks like one of those puzzles they have on the back page of the papers at home,” said Al. “You know: The ones you are supposed to fill in with other letters to make ’em read the same up and down and across.”
“This is no acrostic,” said Belding firmly.
But Whistler stared steadily at the paper for some minutes without saying a word. Only his lips slowly puckered, and Al nudged him to break off the thoughtful whistle which he knew his chum was about to vent.
“Huh? Oh! All right,” murmured Morgan, accepting Al’s admonition.