Taking the initials in order read: Silurianonedegreewestnineteenfathoms, or dividing it into its obvious words—“_Silurian_ one degree west nineteen fathoms.” The three men stared at one another. “Nineteen fathoms!” Price gasped at last. “But if she’s in nineteen fathoms that gold will be salvable!” French nodded. “And I guess Dangle and Company have gone to salve it. They wouldn’t want a salvage boat for gold. They’d get it with a diver’s outfit.” “But,” Cheyne went on in a puzzled tone, “I’ve not got this straight yet. If she’s in nineteen fathoms, why has she not been salved by the Admiralty? Look at the _Laurentic_. She was put down off the Swilly in Ireland, and they salved her gold. Five million pounds’ worth. Salved practically every penny, and in twenty fathoms too.” Price was considering another problem. “One degree west,” he murmured. “What under heaven does that mean? One degree west of what? Surely not the meridian of Greenwich. If so, what is the latitude: there’s no mention of it?” French could not answer either of the questions, and he did not try. Instead he picked up his telephone receiver and made a call. “Hallo! Is that Lloyd’s? Put me through to the Record Department, please . . . Is Mr. Sam Pullar there? Tell him Inspector French of Scotland Yard wants to speak to him . . . Hallo, Sam! . . . Yes . . . Haven’t seen you for ages . . . Look here, Sam, I want you to do me a favor. It’s rather urgent, and I’d be grateful if you could look after it just now. . . . Yes, I’ll hold on. I want to know anything you can tell me about the sinking of the _Silurian_. You remember, she had two and a half millions on her in gold, and the U-boats got her somewhere between this country and the States, I think in ’17 . . . What’s that? . . . Yes, all that and anything else you can tell me.” He took the receiver from his ear. “Friend of mine in Lloyd’s,” he explained. “We ought to get some light from his reply.” Silence reigned for a couple of minutes, then French spoke again. “Let me repeat that,” he said, seizing a pad and scribbling furiously. “Latitude 41 degrees 36 minutes north, longitude 28 degrees 53 minutes west. Right. How was that known? . . . But there was no direct information? . . . Was the gold insured? . . . Well, it’s an involved business, I could hardly tell you over the phone. I’ll explain it first time we meet . . . Thank you, Sam. Much obliged.” He rang off and then made a departmental call. “Put me through to Inspector Barnes . . . That you, Barnes? I’m on to something a bit in your line. Could you come down here for half an hour?” “Barnes is our authority on things nautical,” he told the others. “Began life as a sailor and has studied all branches of sea lore. We always give him shipping cases. We’ll wait till he comes and then I’ll tell you what I learned from Lloyd’s.”