"
"He did not," said Thorndyke. "The 'cryptogram' was probably written by
one of the leaders of the gang, who, no doubt, supplied copies to the
other members to use instead of blank paper for secret communications.
The object of the Moabite writing was evidently to divert attention from
the paper itself, in case the communication fell into the wrong hands,
and I must say it seems to have answered its purpose very well."
The Professor started, stung by the sudden recollection of his labours.
"Yes," he snorted; "but I am a scholar, sir, not a policeman. Every man
to his trade."
He snatched up his hat, and with a curt "Good-morning," flung out of the
room in dudgeon.
Thorndyke laughed softly.
"Poor Professor!" he murmured. "Our playful friend Barton has much to
answer for."
VI
THE MANDARIN'S PEARL
Mr. Brodribb stretched out his toes on the kerb before the blazing fire
with the air of a man who is by no means insensible to physical comfort.
"You are really an extraordinarily polite fellow, Thorndyke," said he.
He was an elderly man, rosy-gilled, portly, and convivial, to whom a
mass of bushy, white hair, an expansive double chin, and a certain prim
sumptuousness of dress imparted an air of old-world distinction.
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