"So'd I—if I knew more. I'd give a hundred dollars to see what's to happen in the next week or so. I've got a big stake here, if the railroad don't shift the depot. Slosson says they won't. Says he's bought all he needs right here for his company. I take it he's helped himself, too. Still, I'd like to know. The boys back at the hotel are fallin' right over 'emselves to get in. They reckon this place is a cinch—since Slosson's bought. I'd like to be sure."
Steve laughed. He read through his friend's purpose now. The visit was not, as he told himself, for nothing. Peter was looking for information which it would be a serious offense for him to give—if he possessed any, which he didn't.
"Guess there's nothing doing, Peter," he said slyly.
"What d'you mean?" The hotel-keeper's eyes were hotter than ever. But there was no resentment in them.
"Why, I just don't know a thing what Slosson's doing. And if I did I couldn't tell you. It would be a criminal offense. Slosson ain't sent a word over the line since he started to buy metal until to-night, and the message I've just sent for him is in code, so, as far as I'm concerned, it's so much Greek. I don't know who it's to, even. That's why I guess there's nothing doing."
"No—I s'pose not. I s'pose codes can be read, though? There's experts who worry out any old code. Guess it's mighty interestin'. If Slosson's sendin' in code I guess he's got something in it he don't need folks to know. That makes it more worrying."
Peter heaved a great sigh of longing. The other shook his head.
"You've got to find the key to 'em," he said.
"Yep—a Bible, or some queer old book. Maybe the 'History of the United States.' Say, I'd hate to chase up the 'History of the United States' looking for a key. Maybe it would be interestin', though. Say——"
"You couldn't do it in a month of years," laughed Steve, humoring his friend. "What would it be worth to you to be able to read his code?"