“He spoke twice--once in each letter,” said George Aughinbaugh, “of learning to use the typewriter. He gave a speed sentence that he had made up, containing the entire alphabet. These are similar sentences, used by nearly every one who learns to typewrite. Jeff was familiar with them. He practised the first one by the hour. I gave him the second one the last night he was here. He is calling on us to come to his help; he is warning us to be careful, that one unconsidered move on our part, ‘a quick move,’ will be dangerous to him. Taken in connection with the other allusions in his letter, and to things that I know outside of his letter, it probably means that such a quick move might be fatal to him. He is imprisoned--not legally; secretly--and in great danger. Of course, parts of his letter are only padding to introduce and join plausibly the vital allusions so that his captors would allow the letter to go. The allusions are not consecutive. When he speaks of----” “Hold on, old man; you’re getting all balled up again,” said Pringle. “Suppose, first of all, you tell us, as clearly as you can, exactly what you understand him to mean, just as if he had written it to you direct, without any parables. Then you can explain to us how you got at it, afterwards.” George walked the room, rearranged his thoughts and, in the process, mastered his agitation. Finally he faced the three friends and said: “He is in prison, in Juarez, the victim of a conspiracy. He is in utmost danger; he is closely guarded; the persons involved have such powerful reasons for holding him that they would kill him rather than allow him to be rescued. What we do must be done with the greatest caution; his guards must not have the slightest suspicion that a rescue is attempted, or planned, or possible, till it is carried out. In addition to this he tells us that we are to communicate with him by means of the personal columns of the El Paso papers----” “I got that,” said Pringle, “but that is about all I did get. Of course, we all figured it out that we were to come to you for instructions, and that there was something about a typewriter we wanted to look into. That was plain enough. There, I’m talking with my mouth. Go on!” “And, in his great danger and distress, he sends you--to Mr. Pringle first, and then to all of you--a last and tenderest farewell, and the strong assurance of his faith that you will do for him all that men can do.” “Good God!” exclaimed Leo. “And was there no hint of who it was that had done this?” “There was!” said Aughinbaugh, with sparkling eyes. “It was two well-known, wealthy and influential El Paso men--the Honorable S. S. Thorpe and Sam Patterson.” “Show me!” said Pringle--“though I begin to see.” “Half the letter is taken up by comment on the play of Julius Cæsar, which he and I had been reading together,” said George. “He tells us plainly, over and over, in different words, to look in it for meanings beneath the surface. You remember that?”