ticular book, published anonymously, that I've often been curious about. Clewfinder,—I think I'll take a look at it."
He went to his book-shelves again and took out the volume, opened it, and ran swiftly over the pages. "Let's see," he said; "if the author wanted his true name known, he would put it in an easy cipher, wouldn't he? But if he didn't want it found out easily, it would be something more complex. This book has had a great sale—it could hardly hurt the man to be suspected of writing it. Let's try the easiest possible method first."
He ran swiftly over the pages. "Well, what d'you think!" he said, looking up. "I knew the man was pretty clever, and fairly versatile, but I never thought of him as the author of such a novel as Clewfinder! Just look at it, Valeska."
"You say it's the easiest possible method he has taken?" Valeska said, as she looked over the pages.
"The very easiest."
Valeska studied on it a few minutes, then her face lighted. She hurriedly turned the pages, stopped here and there, and then smiled. "Well, that is a surprise, isn't it! But why didn't he put his name on the title page? I can't understand that!"
"Give me the book!" Astro said, eagerly. "I believe he would be likely to tell that, too!" He took the volume again, and again he ran hurriedly over the pages. "Yes; as I thought," he said, finally. "He has the best of reasons." He handed the book back to his assistant.
"The second cipher, surely, would be written in the second easiest way, shouldn't it?"
Astro nodded. "Naturally."
