The Complete Doom of London Series (Illustrated Edition) by Fred M. White

Author:Fred M. White [White, Fred M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9788027222537
Publisher: Musaicum Books
Published: 2017-10-08T00:00:00+00:00

“Quite right; it’s the cypher used by The Messenger. The Messenger, my boy, enjoys as high a reputation as The Times. If a cablegram appeared in The Messenger tomorrow saying that there had been an earthquake on the Rand, and that the Johannesburg water-works had overflowed into the deep levels everybody could take it for gospel. That’s why I managed to get hold of and learn The Messenger cypher.

“On the off-chance of the Eastern cable breaking down, I’ve had a cable sent to me every day from a friend in South Africa saying that there has been an earthquake in Johannesburg, and that the mines are flooded out. The cable comes to me in the cypher used by The Messenger people. That’s what all that gibberish about Bertha and the water and the matchbox means.

“Suppose you were to walk into the office and say the Eastern line of cable had broken down. As the Western line is under repair that tells me that communication with South Africa is impossible for a day or more. Probably the lines would be unavailable for nearly a week. I’ve got a spare envelope or two used by the Eastern Company for their messages; I put this flimsy inside and alter my own address ‘Bonan’ to ‘Bonanza’—which is the registered cable address of The Messenger —by the addition of two letters, and there you are. That’s why I thought of ‘Bonan’ and that little office of mine in Long Lane, where I am known as James Jones.

“I’ve had this scheme in my mind for years. A boy drops into The Messenger office and hands over the cablegram, and there you are. The thing looks perfectly in order; it is the private cypher of the big newspaper, and, moreover, it is quite up-to-date. If the cable breaks down no questions can be asked, and the thing goes into the paper. We’ve only got to get the same message sent to me every day, and sooner or later our chance comes.”

Asherton-Smith was breathing heavily. The prospect was dazzling. Somebody was tapping at the outer door. A large man in a big fur coat entered.

“What are you beggars conspiring about?” he asked. “Got something extra special from down below? Egad, I’d give something for a private wire of my own! We’ll get a rest for a day or two. The East Africa cable is bust up south of Mauritius.”

The intruder helped himself to a glass of champagne that he obviously didn’t want, and drifted out again. The partners glanced at one another without speaking. Perhaps they were just a little frightened.

* * * * *

The thing appeared to be absolutely certain. So far as they could see, the story would be believed implicitly, for The Messenger was absolutely reliable.

The great beauty of the scheme was its conclusiveness. There had never been an earthquake on the Rand, but there was no reason why there shouldn’t be. And an earthquake would assuredly destroy the Johannesburg water-works, which would mean the washing away of half the place and the flooding of some of the richest mines below the town.

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