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When their path intersected that of the Platform, the two velocities should be exactly equal. Major Holt's voice came on the Communicator. "Joe," he said harshly, "I have very bad news. A message came from Central Intelligence within minutes of your take-off. I ah with Sally I had been following your progress. I did not decode the message until now.
A government clerk named Westerfeltner, a man who held a place of trust and confidence, was the man who stole it. For it he was offered a sum of money which would make him independent for life, and under the temptation he weakened and he stole it. But first he stole the key to the cipher, which would make it possible for anyone having both the key and the message to decode the message.
Your last report received. Granet glanced eagerly back at the original message. It consisted of a few perfectly harmless sentences concerning various rates of exchange. He gave it to his uncle with a smile. "I shouldn't worry about that, sir," he advised. "It isn't the thing itself I worry about," Sir Alfred said thoughtfully, "they'll never decode that message.
It would not have excused her in her own soul to have sat staring at a cipher message that she was satisfied was some criminal plot, and have refused to decode it simply because she was afraid a sense of duty would involve her in an effort to frustrate it.
But the most simple of the difficult ones is the taking of a number of arbitrary signs or symbols to represent the letters of the alphabet. That is what was done in Poe's 'Gold Bug, you remember. Unless the person has a copy of the list of signs and symbols it is very difficult to decipher that cipher, or decode it, as they say in government circles."
It looked as though Henry had been sending a cable in which you were somehow concerned. While I was there, the reply came, so I decided to open and decode it. Directly I realised what it was about, I brought it straight to the office, hoping to catch you there." "You are a most amazing woman," he declared. She leaned a little towards him. "And you are a most likable man," she murmured.
"Precisely," he went on. "You have guessed the truth, I can see. We have been able, within the last few hours, to decode that very interesting message which reached your uncle some little time ago." Geraldine's bewilderment increased. Granet's almost stupefied silence seemed to amaze her. "Hugh, what does it all mean?" she cried.
If the analyzers failed to decode the ship's I.D. properly, Kennon, Alexander, the ship, and a fair slice of surrounding territory would become an incandescent mass of dissociated atoms. "Grandfather was a good builder," Alexander, said proudly. "Those projectors have been mounted nearly four hundred years and they're still as good as the day they were installed."
"It's there, my word for it, if we could only decode the thing." Then he stood up, his face lifted, his fingers linked behind his back. He crossed the room and stood looking out at the thin yellow fog drifting over Piccadilly Circus. Finally he came back, gathered up his papers and put them in the pocket of his big tweed coat. "There's one man in Europe," he said, "who can read this thing.
Getting something," he muttered. A second later he seized a pencil and marked down upon a pad a series of dots and dashes. Then, wheeling about, he put his fingers on a key to flash back an answer. "It's the boys," he shouted. "Got their location. Joe, decode what I wrote there, then go ask the skipper how much we're off it."
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