sation and could not resist the temptation to
take a peek at the notation. She stepped silently
over to the telephone table and glanced at the
sheet. Strung out across the top and bottom of the
page were numbers. The top row read:
_ ~
1653 112 129 1562 16 882 091 5618
—
“Stock quotations, like fun!” Nancy told her-
self. “Why did he lie about it? He must have been
afraid I’d discover something!” As usual. Nancy
was intrigued at any hint of a mystery. She
studied the row of odd figures. Suddenly it
dawned on her that they might be a message in
code!
Nancy looked quickly toward the inner office.
The door was open, but the man sat with his back
toward her. She did not dare pick up the paper.
If only there was enough time to copy the codel
With one eye on the office. Nancy took a sheet
of paper and frantically scribbled the numbers,
carefully keeping them in their right order.
She could hear Joanne’s soft voice, then her
prospective employer talking loudly, and realized
the interview was coming to an end.
She had copied only the top row of numbers,
but dared not spend any more time at it. She put
the copy into her bag and slipped back into her
chair just a moment before Joanne and the man
emerged from the inner room. He glanced to-
ward the telephone, gave a start, and rushed
across the room. With a muttered exclamation he
grabbed the paper and thrust it into his pocket.
Nancy’s heart was beating madly as she forced
herself to remain outwardly calm. He stood with
a cold look on his face, his eyes fixed on Nancy.
CHAPTER III
Work on a Code
Had the man heard her rush from the telephone
table? Nancy wondered. Was he suspicious of her
actions during his absence? If so, what reason
did he have and what business deal was he hiding
in this dingy excuse for an office? Nancy pre-
tended not to notice his penetrating, question-
ing eyes, but she was ill at ease.
The hostile man spoke up. “You girls better
get out of here!” he blurted. “I got no more time
to waste. And don’t bother to come back I”
Nancy and Joanne looked hastily at each other
and moved toward the door. Once outside the
building. Nancy breathed a sigh of relief and
turned toward Joanne, who was close to tears.
“Don’t feel bad because you didn’t get the
job,” Nancy said gently as they walked to the car.
“You wouldn’t have wanted it, I’m sure.”
“That man was detestable!” Joanne shud-
dered. “I had just given my name and address
when he started to shout. You must have heard
him.”
Nancy nodded. “I think he had already found
another girl to work for him,” she said. “At least
I heard him say something like that over the
phone.”
“I knew I wouldn’t get the job.” Joanne
sighed dejectedly. “He told me I wasn’t the
type!”
“I’d count my blessings if I were you,” said
Nancy soberly. “There’s something strange going
on in that office and I’d like to know what it is.”
“Why, what do you mean?” Joanne asked quiz-
zically.
“Well,” Nancy began carefully, “I’m not sure
my suspicions are just, but I have a hunch there’s
something shady about the telephone message he
got when you were in the inner office.” Nancy ex-
plained about the series of numbers on the sheet
of paper and how she suspected they might form
some sort of code.
“At any rate,” Nancy went on, “we can’t be
sure of anything, so this must remain confiden-
tial.”
Joanne nodded and fell silent.
Many thoughts raced through Nancy’s mind as
she remembered the day’s encounters. First there
had been the perfume shop and its mysterious
saleswoman, then the curious man on the train
who had been attracted by the strange fragrance.
And now, this crude, gruff man in Room 305!
“What should I do now?” Joanne asked for-
lornly. “I can’t go back to Red Gate Farm and let
Gram down. I simply must find work!”
“Why not come home with me?” Nancy sug-