Babbing took off his spectacles and began to walk up and down the room, twirling them by the ear bows. The operative sat on the side of the bed, leaning forward, with his hands clasped between his knees. He removed his derby and gazed thoughtfully into it, as if he hoped to find an idea there. It remained empty.
Babbing stopped in front of Barney. “Young man,” he said, “I ’m going to send you into the next room with a telegram. There ’s a man in there—registered as Marshall Cooper. Remember the name. You ’ll give the telegram to him and say ‘Any answer?’ Watch him. It will be a cipher telegram that will look as if it had been received downstairs. See what he does to make it out. He ’ll probably want to answer it; and if he does, you may have a chance to see how he makes up the answer. He has a writing table over at this window—here. If he sits down at it, he ’ll have his back to you. Try to see what he does. Don’t try to do it by watching
