"No," she admitted regretfully; "I had not sufficient time. That was why I did not wish to go away just now." "I do not think that you need hesitate to leave it now. I am not taking it out of your hands, only carrying on another phase that you have made possible. It will simplify matters if I have the office to myself. Could you find an opportunity for telling Tantroy casually that you are taking a fortnight's holiday?" Her answer hung just a moment. Had he known Tantroy better he might have guessed. "Yes, certainly," she replied hastily, with a little stumble in her speech. Perhaps he guessed. "No," he corrected himself. "On second thoughts, it does not matter." "I do not mind," she protested loyally. "If it were necessary I should not hesitate to ask you," he replied half brusquely. "It is not." "Very well. I will go to-morrow." That evening, when he was alone. Salt unlocked the typewriter case to which Miss Lisle had alluded, took out the machine, and seating himself before it proceeded to compose a letter upon which he seemed to spend much consideration. As his fingers struck the keys, upon the sheet of paper in the carrier there appeared the following mystifying composition: kbeljsl wopmjvsjxkivslilscalkwespljkjscwecsspssp fxfejsloxmjcneoeqjdncs---- It was, in fact, as Miss Lisle had said, a code typewriter. The letters which appeared on the paper did not correspond with the letters on the keys. According to the keyboard the writing should have been: mydrstr nwhvsltscmpltrprtbfrmndthrsmstbndbtthtth prpslhvfrmltdsfsblndth---- and signified, to resolve it into its ultimate form: MY DEAR ESTAIR,--I now have Salt's complete report before me, and there seems to be no doubt that the proposal I have formulated is feasible, and the----