“Yes—and signed with the single initial ‘M.’”
“Hump!” Carpenter commented. “Mrs. Spencer’s name, I believe you said, is Madeline. I tell you there are too many women in this affair.”
Suddenly he threw down the pen. “What’s the use in going on with it. If you can supply a key to this key we may arrive. Such an array of unpronounceables may be Russian, it assuredly isn’t French or English. Look at it!” and he handed the translation to Harleston, who read:
AGELUMTONZUCLPMUHRHUNBARGPUH
PJICLWYIAOIWFPHLUOZFRXUFJWH
WASNVDPS
“Good Lord!” said Harleston. “I pass. Did you ever see so many consonants. I reckon my key-word isn’t the key.”
“Try being held up again,” Carpenter advised; “you may succeed the second time. If Madeline Spencer is the holdee, no telling what you’d find.”
“I’d find nothing,” Harleston rejoined.
“You’d be holding a particularly lovely and attractive bit of skirts!” Carpenter smiled.