It was the fifth book from the end on the
second shelf, and I got the paper and copied it."
"Splendid. What did the message say?"
"It's just a lot of figures. I put it back after copying it, and I am in
a drug-store across the street where I can watch to see if any one comes
to get the message. What shall I do now?"
"Can you remain there fifteen minutes without arousing suspicion?"
"Certainly. I'll say I am waiting for some one."
"Good. I'll get in touch with Carter at once. He'll tell you what to do
when he arrives."
Impatiently Jane sat there, keeping vigilant watch on the entrance
across the street, determined to be able to describe minutely each
person that entered. From time to time she surreptitiously studied the
postcard on which she had jotted down the mysterious numbers. How
utterly meaningless they looked. Surely it would be impossible for any
one, even Mr. Fleck, to decipher any message that these figures might
convey. It would be impossible unless one had the key. Figures could be
made to mean anything at all. She doubted if her discovery could be of
much importance after all, yet certainly Mr. Fleck had seemed quite
excited about it.
She spied Carter passing in a taxi. Two other men were with him. Her
first impulse was to run out in the street and signal to him, but she
waited, wondering what she should do.
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