Evening capital news. (Boise, Idaho) 1901-1927, 1916-12-30

Listlessly he glanced at the pages OF the
register and sighed.
What's eatin' you, Tom!" asked the
clerk genially
"oh, Brophy, the police commissioner,
Is sore on me- nourned that young man
Won't let me see the blotter, and I gotta
dig up my own news Nice, whatf Guess
got under his skin with Yesterdays
write-up. Know anythingT AS he spoke
Grants eyes were rowing around the lob
by. Suddenly he started
why, nothin' much" the clerk was
beginning, when Grant Interrupted.
WHO'S that tall, dark guy there, read
ing letter." he demanded with care
fully foigned indifference, though his
handsome, clean-cut face was tense.
Him? oh, that's Baron Won Lichtfeld
Just got in with a raft of baggage" AS
he spoke the Baron moved toward the
lounge room
clerk Grant followed. tingling like a hunt
ing dog that has Just raised a coyey of
partrfdges. He was not quite certain, but
the Baron bore a strong resemblance to a
certain notorious international crook whom
Grant had once seen In the Berklon room
at headquarters.
The Baron found a seat ut a desk and
began figuring on bit of paper, while
Grant watched him from behind a news
paper. Presently the man rose tossed
some scraps of paper in a waste basket
ana sauntered out. Promptly Grant shift
ed his place and retrieved the scraps.
They looked to be the remains of letter
In which tho Baron had been SO engrossed.
Now. I've got to make good" thought
Grant Maybe that's an honest -to-good-
ness Baron, and maybe Anyhow. here
goes"
He borrowed q muciiage-pot from the
clerk and began carefully fitting the torn
bits Of paper together. like a Chinese pug-
zle, only worse. After half an hour Of
hard work. during which his busy mind
reviewed the recent outbreak of crime in
the city which the police seemed unable
to check. and decided more firmly than
ever that the Baron would bear watching.
he had completed his task He stared at
the result with dropping jaw.
For tho letter, written In q small, FEM
mime hand, said:
Flirting alive hive plenty, squirting
alive, (hee), sitting be delve lifting We
heaven. done plenty, (bun be hive go)
flirting done door fine bun-fine sitting
counting. gun plenty-through alive court
ing plenty-done hive. maim.''
We'll of all the crazy" gasped the re-
porter, then a sudden thought struck him.
The Baron had done some figuring In con.
nection with this letter: therefore 1t must
be code of some kinda cryptogram
There was method in this madness un-
doubleday; but what? And at the same
time tho thing was tantalizingly sug-
gestive of something that he couldn't just
put his finger on.
The last word IN q letters generally
the signature he thought. In this case
the last word was "maim." "Mamen'
Mamie the Rose. Then the Baron was
really that crook. Four Finger Sam. whom
he'd seen at headquarters some three
years ago; for Mamie the Rose was
SANS wife! BY George here was q story.
He simply must work out the cipher.
Scowling ferociously. Grant bent over
the queer letter. raching his brains for .
solution Of 1t. He tried first to pick out
e's from their frequency, but that led
nowhere. He tried the alphabet back
wards and forwards and doubled back on
itself. Then suddenly his eyes lighted and
he smote the desk a resounding thump.
I've got IT." no whispered. Franticaiiy
he scrubbed on piece of the hotel paper.
pausing once or twice with wrinkled
brows; then he leaped for the nearest teie-
phone booth. stufftng the paper in his
pocket a. he went
Thirty seconds later Grants friend
Cadogan, chief of detectives. was pricking
UP his ears at headquarters at the news
that came sizzling to him over the wire.
And Listen. Cadogan, old man." Grant
ended. IT simply got to get In on this!
Meet me at the corner like said with q
couple Of cops. and we'll make the pinch