THE TRANSLATION
Mr. G. R. Burkhill overwhelmed Ben Mayberry with thanks for the heroic
manner in which he saved his niece and strove to save his sister. He
offered the boy a handsome reward, but I am glad to say Ben refused to
accept it. He promised to write the boy concerning the little one, but he
must have forgotten his promise, as a long time passed without anything
being heard from him.
When I discovered that the seedy lounger about our office had carefully
taken down the cipher telegram addressed to Burkhill, I was indignant,
for it was well known that one of the most important duties which the
telegraph companies insist upon is the inviolability of the messages
intrusted to their wires. Nothing less than a peremptory order from the
court is sufficient to produce the telegrams placed in our care.
I was on the point of leaving my desk and compelling the impudent
stranger to surrender the cipher he had surreptitiously secured, but I
restrained myself and allowed him to go without suspecting my knowledge
of his act.
"Ben," said I, addressing my young friend, whom I trusted beyond any of
the older operators, "did you notice that fellow who just went out?"
"Yes, sir; I have seen him before. He followed me home last night, and
after I went in the house, he walked up and down the pavement for more
than half an hour. He was very careful, but I saw him through the
blinds."
"Has he ever said anything to you?"
"Nothing, except in the office."
"He took down every letter of that cipher telegram you just received for
Mr. Burkhill."
The boy was surprised and sat a minute in deep thought.
"Mr. Melville," he said, "if you have no objection, I shall study out
that cipher."
"That I think is impossible; it has been prepared with care, and it will
take a greater expert than you to unravel it."
Ben smiled in his pleasing way as he answered:
"I am fond of unraveling puzzles, and I believe I can take this apart."
"I will be surprised if you succeed; but if you do, keep it a secret from
everyone but myself."
"You may depend on that."
The odd times which Ben could secure through the day were spent in
studying the mysterious letters; but when he placed it in his pocket at
night and started for home, he had not caught the first glimmer of its
meaning.
But he was hopeful and said he would never give it up until he made it as
clear as noonday, and I knew that if it was within the range of
accomplishment, he would keep his word. I have told enough to show my
readers he was unusually intelligent and quick-witted, but I am free to
confess that I had scarcely a hope of his success.
"I've got it!"
That was the whispered exclamation with which Ben Mayberry greeted me the
next morning when he entered the office.
"No! You're jesting," I answered, convinced, at the same time, that he
was in earnest.
"I'll soon show you," was his exultant response.
"How was it you struck the key?"
"That is hard to tell, more than you can explain how it is, after you
have puzzled your brain for a long time over an arithmetical problem, it
suddenly becomes clear to you."
He sat down by my desk.
"I figured and studied, and tried those letters every way I could think
of until midnight, and was on the point of going to bed, when the whole
thing flashed upon me. You know, Mr. Melville, that in trying to unravel
a cipher, the first thing necessary is to find the key-word, for it must
be there somewhere; and if you look sharp enough it will reveal itself.
One single letter gave it to me."
"How was that?"
"If you will look at the telegram," said Ben, spreading it out before me,
"you will notice that in one instance only is a single letter seen
standing by itself. That is the letter 'b,' which I concluded must stand
for the article 'a,' for I know of no other, unless it is 'I.' Now, the
letter 'b' is the second one in the alphabet, and stands next in order to
'a.' If this system is followed throughout the cipher, we have only to
take, instead of the letters as written, the next in order as they occur
in the alphabet. But when I tried it on the following word, it failed
entirely. Luckily I tested the second in the same manner, and I was
surprised to find it made a perfect word, viz.: 'chance.' The third came
to naught, but the fourth developed into 'your.' That proved that every
other word of the message was constructed in this manner, and it did not
take me long to bring them out into good English. This was a big help, I
can tell you, and it was not long before I discovered that in the
alternate words the system reversed; that is, instead of taking the
letter immediately succeeding, the writer had used that which immediately
precedes it in the alphabet. Applying this key to the telegram, it read
thus:
"'Must wait till fall; Sam has a better chance south. Your bank will
keep.'"
"Now," added Ben, who was warranted in feeling jubilant over his success,
"that is a very ordinary cipher--one which hundreds would make out
without trouble. Had the writer run his letters all together--that is,
without any break between the words--I would have been stumped. Besides,
he uses no blind words, as he ought to have done; and it looks very much
as if he calls everything by its right name, something which I should
think no person anxious to keep such a secret would do. If he means
'bank,' he might as well have called it by another name altogether."
"I think ordinarily he would have been safe in writing his cipher as he
has done; but, be that as it may, I am confident you have made a most
important discovery."