explanation, when one took into account the loneliness and remoteness

of the spot.

As I sat gazing at my remarkable find, which was tick-ing and

clicking away there in the silence of the desert night, trying to

convey some message which I was unable to interpret, my eyes fell

upon a bit of paper lying in the bottom of the box beside the

instrument. I picked it up and examined it. Upon it were written

but two letters:

D. I.

They meant nothing to me then. I was baffled.

Once, in an interval of silence upon the part of the receiving

instrument, I moved the sending-key up and down a few times.

Instantly the receiving mechanism commenced to work frantically.

I tried to recall something of the Morse Code, with which I had

played as a little boy--but time had obliterated it from my memory.

I became almost frantic as I let my imagination run riot among the

possibilities for which this clicking instrument might stand.

Some poor devil at the unknown other end might be in dire need of

succor. The very franticness of the instrument's wild clashing

betokened something of the kind.

And there sat I, powerless to interpret, and so power-less to help!

It was then that the inspiration came to me. In a flash there

leaped to my mind the closing paragraphs of the story I had read

in the club at Algiers:

Does the answer lie somewhere upon the bosom of the broad Sahara,

at the ends of two tiny wires, hidden beneath a lost cairn?

The idea seemed preposterous. Experience and in-telligence combined

to assure me that there could be no slightest grain of truth or

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