Must mean something." For all that, the painted lines remained a stubborn puzzle.
"Something, yes.

But what ?" The padre pulled out a cigar, and smoking at top speed, spaced off each character with his thumb.

"They are all alike, and yet"-- He clutched his white hair with big knuckles, and tugged; replaced his mushroom helmet; held the paper at a new focus.
"Ah!" he said doubtfully; and at last, "Yes." For some time he read to himself, nodding.

"A Triad cipher." "Well ?" resumed Heywood, patiently.
The reader pointed with his cigar.
"Take only the left half of that word, and what have you ?" "'Lightning,'" read Heywood.
"The right half ?" "'Boat.'" "Take," the padre ordered, "this one; left half ?" "'Lightning,'" repeated his pupil.

"The right half--might be 'rice-scoop,' But that's nonsense." "No," said the padre.