He found himself on a desolate country road and finally ran into a farmer.
“Hello,” the agent said. “I’m looking for a man named Murphy.”
“Well, you’re in luck,” said the farmer. “As it happens, there’s a village right over the hill where the butcher is named Murphy, the baker is named Murphy, and three widows are named Murphy. Matter of fact,my name is Murphy.”
Aha, the agent thought, here’s my man. So he whispered the secret code:
“The sun is shining…the grass is growing…the cows are ready for milking.”
“Oh,” said the farmer, “you’re looking for Murphy the spy – he’s in the village over in the other direction.”