here to type out a copy for you before you go, Mr.
Cumshaw," she promised, "and you can see what you can make of it."

"Thanks," said the young man briefly. I had expected him to make a
bigger mouthful of it than that, and I thought it odd that he did not.
It struck me too as queer that he did not ask for a look at the cypher;
an ordinary man would have known no peace until he had examined it in
all its baffling details. As I was to learn, Mr. Cumshaw was no ordinary
man, and, for a young chap of his age, had his emotions and inclinations
under rather remarkable control.

I stood up. "If you want that cypher," I said, "I'll type it out now,
and you can study it on the way home if you wish."

"It's very kind of you," Cumshaw murmured with a well-bred lack of
enthusiasm.

"I think," said Moira, "that we'd all better adjourn to the study. I
don't like to think of anyone being in there alone, especially at night.
You see," she explained to Cumshaw, "the room hasn't been used since
Uncle's death. He was killed in that very room ... in front of my eyes."

"I understand," said Cumshaw softly, and he rose to his feet and held
the door open for Moira to pass out. She led the way to the study and
unlocked the door. It had been a fad of hers ever since the tragedy to
keep the room sealed, and, as I saw no reason for gainsaying her, I had
never interfered. She switched on the light and we stood for a moment on
the threshold, dazzled by the unaccustomed radiance. Nothing in the
place had been touched--we had not disturbed anything during our search
for Bryce's papers--and, save for the absence of some of the actors in
the scene, it might have been the very night of the tragedy itself.

I broke the spell by walking into the room and proceeding to take the
cover off the typewriter. The machine had not been used since its owner
had died. Despite the manner in which I had lied to Bryce, I knew a
thing or two about typewriters. As a matter of fact I transcribed the
greater part of my father's three volumes of Solomon Island Ethnology on
just such another machine. I sat down at the table and drew from my
pocket the letter and the cypher, both of which I had thrust out of
sight when Albert Cumshaw had been announced that afternoon.

"There's the cypher," I said, and I spread the sheet out on the table.

Cumshaw bent over it and read out aloud from beginning to end.

"2@3; 5@3 &9; 3 5433-3/4 5@ 3 @75 L994 1/4;L 5@3 481/28;? 1/27; 1