IN SECRET

IN SECRET

CHAPTER I

CUP AND LIP





The case in question concerned a letter in a yellow envelope, which
was dumped along with other incoming mail upon one of the many long
tables where hundreds of women and scores of men sat opening and
reading thousands of letters for the Bureau of P. C.--whatever that
may mean.

In due course of routine a girl picked up and slit open the yellow
envelope, studied the enclosed letter for a few moments, returned it
to its envelope, wrote a few words on a slip of paper, attached the
slip to the yellow envelope, and passed it along to the D. A.
C.--whoever he or she may be.

The D. A. C., in course of time, opened this letter for the second
time, inspected it, returned it to the envelope, added a memorandum,
and sent it on up to the A. C.--whatever A. C. may signify.

Seated at his desk, the A. C. perused the memoranda, glanced over
the letter and the attached memoranda, added his terse comment to
the other slips, pinned them to the envelope, and routed it through
certain channels which ultimately carried the letter into a room
where six silent and preoccupied people sat busy at six separate
tables.

Fate had taken charge of that yellow envelope from the moment it was
mailed in Mexico; Chance now laid it on a yellow oak table before a
yellow-haired girl; Destiny squinted over her shoulder as she drew
the letter from its triply violated envelope and spread it out on
the table before her.

A rich, warm flush mounted to her cheeks as she examined the
document. Her chance to distinguish herself had arrived at last. She
divined it instantly. She did not doubt it. She was a remarkable
girl.

The room remained very still. The five other cipher experts of the
P. I. Service were huddled over their tables, pencil in hand,
absorbed in their several ungodly complications and laborious
calculations. But they possessed no Rosetta Stone to aid them in
deciphering hieroglyphics; toad-like, they carried the precious
stone in their heads, M. D.!