Produced by David Moynihan, Charles Franks and the
Distributed Proofreading Team.
by
A grateful nation's thanks are due
To Arethusa and to you—-
To her who dauntless at your side
Pneumonia and Flue defied
With phials of formaldehyde!
Chief of Police were you, by gosh!
Gol ding it! how you bumped the Boche!
Handed 'em one with club and gun
Until the Hun was on the run:
And that's the way the war was won.
Easthampton's pride! My homage take
For Fairest Philadelphia's sake.
Retire in company with Bill;
Rest by the Racquet's window sill
And, undisturbed, consume your pill.
When Cousin Feenix started west
And landed east, he did his best;
And so I've done my prettiest
To make this rhyme long overdue;
For Arethusa and for you.
The case in question concerned a letter in a yellow envelope, whichwas dumped along with other incoming mail upon one of the many longtables where hundreds of women and scores of men sat opening andreading thousands of letters for the Bureau of P. C.—whatever thatmay mean.
In due course of routine a girl picked up and slit open the yellowenvelope, studied the enclosed letter for a few moments, returned itto its envelope, wrote a few words on a slip of paper, attached theslip 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 secondtime, 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 overthe letter and the attached memoranda, added his terse comment tothe other slips, pinned them to the envelope, and routed it throughcertain channels which ultimately carried the letter into a roomwhere six silent and preoccupied people sat busy at six separatetables.
Fate had taken charge of that yellow envelope from the moment it wasmailed in Mexico; Chance now laid it on a yellow oak table before ayellow-haired girl; Destiny squinted over her shoulder as she drewthe letter from its triply violated envelope and spread it out onthe table before her.
A rich, warm flush mounted to her cheeks as she examined thedocument. Her chance to distinguish herself had arrived at last. Shedivined it instantly. She did not doubt it. She was a remarkablegirl.
The room remained very still. The five other cipher experts of theP. I. Service were huddled over their tables, pencil in hand,absorbed in their several ungodly complications and laboriouscalculations. But they possessed no Rosetta Stone to aid them indeciphering hieroglyphics; toad-like, they carried the preciousstone in their heads, M. D.!
No indiscreet sound interrupted their mental gymnastics, save onlythe stealthy scrape of a pen, the subdued rustle of writing pa