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storm protected
them from too-curious observation, as the streets seemed deserted
by pedestrians who feared the growing blizzard. She led him to the
tradesman's entrance of the Somerset, into the dark corridor through
which she had emerged.
"Don't strike a light, for I can feel the way. We mustn't be seen."
Shirley obeyed,--at last she found the base of the dumbwaiter shaft.
"How did you have the strength to lower yourself down this shaft--it is
no small task?" and his tone was admiring.
"I am not a weakling--tennis, boating, swimming were all in my
education; they helped. But it is beyond me to pull all those floors,
and lift my weight. Pull up as far as the little elevator car goes, then
go away and come to his party to look for me. Do not be surprised at my
actions. My role has really developed into that of an emotional heavy."
She patted his hand with a relaxation of tenderness, as he began to draw
on the long rope. The girl was by no means a light weight, but at last
the dumb-waiter came to a stop. Shirley heard the opening and closing of
a door above. Then, still wondering at it all, he returned to the street
as unobserved as they had entered. There was at least an hour to wait.
He walked over to the Athletic Club, of which he was a remiss member,
attending seldom during the recent months when his exercise had been
more tragic than gymnastic work. In the library of the club house he sat
down to study the volume which Helene had thrust into his hands at their
startling meeting.
He gave a low whistle of surprise.
"Some little book!" he muttered, "and Helene Marigold has shown me that
I must fight hard to equal her in the race for laurels!"
Then he proceeded to rack his brains with a new and knottier problem
than any which he had yet encountered.
CHAPTER XVI. THE STRANGE AND SURPRISING WARREN
The volume was a loose-leaf diary, with each page dated, and of letter
size. It covered more than the current year, however, running back for
nearly eighteen months. It was as scrupulously edited as a lawyer's
engagement book, and curiously enough it was entirely written in
typewriting!
Most surprising of all, however, was the curious code in which the
entire matter was transcribed,--the most unusual one which Shirley had
ever read.
Here was the first page to which he opened, letter for letter and symbol
for symbol:
"THURSDAY: JANUARY SEVENTH, 1915.
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