"Guess we'd better go over to the quietude of the hut to try and dope this out," Jack suggested, and they headed immediately in that direction.
There, to facilitate matters, the work was divided between three of them. Jack, word by word, read off the almost nonsensical conglomeration of unconnected nouns and verbs, while Don, with the code key book, looked up their meanings, which he called out in low tone to Fred, who was seated at the rough table in the center of the room.
"Bannister knock hounding snowstorm Christmas joy hat euchre brains," Jack read off the entire code telegram. "Well, I'll admit that's one to stagger the wisest operator, although on its face it seems to indicate both snow and joy next Christmas. However, let's see what it actually means. Are you ready, Don?"
"Shoot," said the other laconically, thumbing the code book impatiently.
"Bannister," Jack called off.
Don turned several pages, ran a finger down one column, came to a halt. "This looks interesting," he exclaimed. "Bannister: Take every precaution."
"Right," announced Fred, writing down the words.
"Knock," Jack read off again.
The process was repeated, and: "Knock: against," Don gave the interpretation.
"Hounding."