I wanted some time to myself, so I invented a job for him.

He had a motor-bicycle, and I sent him off next morning for the daily paper, which usually arrived with the post in the late afternoon.

I told him to keep his eyes skinned, and make note of any strange figures he saw, keeping a special sharp look-out for motors and aeroplanes.
Then I sat down in real earnest to Scudder's note-book.
He came back at midday with the SCOTSMAN.

There was nothing in it, except some further evidence of Paddock and the milkman, and a repetition of yesterday's statement that the murderer had gone North.
But there was a long article, reprinted from THE TIMES, about Karolides and the state of affairs in the Balkans, though there was no mention of any visit to England.

I got rid of the innkeeper for the afternoon, for I was getting very warm in my search for the cypher.
As I told you, it was a numerical cypher, and by an elaborate system of experiments I had pretty well discovered what were the nulls and stops.
The trouble was the key word, and when I thought of the odd million words he might have used I felt pretty hopeless.