But I returned to the study of the piece of paper.

"Not so fast, old bird," Dicky replied coolly, "let me finish my story.
Old Stick-in-the-mud is a lot shrewder than we think.

"'When I read the writing,' he told me, 'I think he is all robbish, but
then I ask myself, Who shall put robbish in my invoices? And then I
read the writing again and once again, and then I see he is a message.'"

"Stop, Dicky!" I cried, "of course, what an ass I am! Why
_Eichenholz_...."

"Exactly," retorted Dicky, "as the old Mynheer was the first to see,
_Eichenholz_ translated into English is 'Oak-tree' or 'Oak-wood'--in
other words, Francis."

"Then, Dicky...." I interrupted.

"Just a minute," said Dicky, putting up his hand. "I confess I thought,
on first seeing this message or whatever it is, that there must be
simply a coincidence of name and that somebody's idle scribbling had
found its way into old van U.'s invoice. But now that you have told me
that Francis may have actually got into Germany, then, I must say, it
looks as if this might be an attempt of his to communicate with home."

"Where did the Dutchman's packet of stuff come from?" I asked.

"From the Berlin Metal Works in Steglitz, a suburb of Berlin: he has
dealt with them for years."