THE CARONIA, Nov. 18.
MR. A. JONES, Astor Court Temple:
I have tried unsuccessfully to see you twice. Enclosed you will find the reason. Please read through it carefully. Then I am sure you will see and help me. Money is no object. I will call to-morrow at noon.
Respectfully,
WILLIAM H. ROBINSON.
“Well, I see nothing out of the ordinary in that,” observed Bertram.
“Nothing?” inquired Average Jones.
Bertram read the message again. “Of course the man is rattled. That’s obvious in his handwriting. Also, he has inverted one sentence in his haste and said ‘read through it,’ instead, of ‘read it through.’ Otherwise, it’s ordinary enough.”
“It must be vanity that keeps you from eyeglasses, Bert,” Average Jones observed with a sigh. “Well, I’m afraid I set you on the wrong track, myself!”
Bertram lifted an eyebrow with an effort. “Meaning, I suppose, that you’re on the tight and have solved the cipher.”
“Cipher be jiggered. You were right in your opening remark. There isn’t any cipher. If you read Mr. Robinson’s note correctly, and if you’d had the advantage of working on the original of the advertisement as I have, you’d undoubtedly have noticed at once—”
“Thank you,” murmured Bertram.
“—that fully one-third of the pin-pricks don’t touch any letters at all.”