“That’s the conclusion I reached,” Madge announced eagerly. “I’m willing to wager that the formula is written in ‘Kim’ if only we can find the right method of bringing it out!”
“I’m sure I don’t know the way,” Anne returned. “You can’t find that sort of information in books either—that is, not the latest processes.”
“You don’t know anyone who might help us?”
“Clyde Wendell, if he would.”
“Let’s count him out. He wouldn’t help a blind man.”
“Then I fear—oh, wait! I just thought of a man who worked with Father in the Washington bureau. He knows everything about codes and ciphers and secret inks.”
“Can you reach him?”
“Why, I could write to Washington. I believe he’s still with the government.”
“That would take ages,” Madge protested. “We must have quick action or Mr. Brownell will leave. Why not telegraph?”
“I can,” Anne agreed instantly. “Why, where are you going?” she demanded as Madge slid out of bed.