“It is rather odd,” agreed Tuppence thoughtfully.
“I presume that you, being a clergyman’s daughter, have got your Bible with you?”
“As a matter of fact I have. Aha, you didn’t expect that. Wait a sec.”
Tuppence ran to her suit case, extracted a small red volume and returned to the table. She turned the leaves rapidly. “Here we are. Luke, Chapter 11, Verse 9. Oh! Tommy, look.”
Tommy bent over and looked where Tuppence’s small finger pointed to a portion of the verse in question.
“ Seek, and ye shall find. ”
“That’s it,” cried Tuppence. “We’ve got it! Solve the cryptogram and the treasure is ours—or rather Monica’s.”
“Well, let’s get to work on the cryptogram, as you call it. ‘My first you put on glowing coal.’ What does that mean, I wonder? Then—‘My second really is the first.’ That’s pure gibberish.”
“It’s quite simple really,” said Tuppence kindly. “It’s just a sort of knack. Let me have it.”
Tommy surrendered it willingly. Tuppence ensconced herself in an arm chair, and began muttering to herself with bent brows.
“It’s quite simple really,” murmured Tommy when half an hour had elapsed.
“Don’t crow! We’re the wrong generation for this. I’ve a good mind to go back to town tomorrow and call on some old pussy who would probably read it as easy as winking. It’s a knack, that’s all.”
“Well, let’s have one more try.”