The Case of the Registered Letter | Page 6

had the gift of putting aside his own convictions, when he wanted his
mind clear to consider evidence before him.
Graumann had risen from his sitting position when he saw a stranger.
His heavy brows drew down over his, eyes, but he waited for the other
to speak.
"I am Detective Joseph Muller, from Vienna," began the newcomer,
when he had seen that the prisoner did not intend to start the
conversation.
"Have you come to question me again?" asked Graumann wearily. "I
can say no more than I have already said to the Police Commissioner.
And no amount of cross-examination can make me confess a crime of
which I am not guilty--no matter what evidence there may be against
me." The prisoner's voice was hard and determined in spite of its note
of physical and mental weariness.
"I have not come to extort a confession from you, Mr. Graumann,"
Muller replied gently, "but to help you establish your innocence, if it be
possible."
A wave of colour flooded the prisoner's cheek. He gasped, pressed his
hand to his heart, and dropped down on his cot. "Pardon me," he said
finally, hesitating like a man who is fighting for breath. "My heart is
weak; any excitement upsets me. You mean that the authorities are not
convinced of my guilt, in spite of the evidence? You mean that they
will give me the benefit of the doubt--that they will give me a chance
for life?"
"Yes, that is the reason for my coming here. I am to take this case in
hand. If you will talk freely to me, Mr. Graumann, I may be able to
help you. I have seen too many mistakes of justice because of
circumstantial evidence to lay any too great stress upon it. I have
waited to hear your side of the story from yourself. I did not want to

hear it from others. Will you tell it to me now? No, do not move, I will
get the stool myself."
Graumaun sat back on the cot, his head resting against the wall. His
eyes had closed while Muller was speaking, but his quieter breathing
showed that he was mastering the physical attack which had so shaken
him at the first glimpse of hope. He opened his eyes now and looked at
Muller steadily for a moment. Then he said: "Yes, I will tell you: my
life and my work have taught me to gauge men. I will tell you
everything I know about this sad affair. I will tell you the absolute truth,
and I think you will believe me."
"I will believe you," said Muller simply.
"You know the details of the murder, of course, and why I was
arrested?"
"You were arrested because you were the last person seen in the
company of the murdered man?"
"Exactly. Then I may go back and tell you something of my connection
with John Siders?"
"It would be the very best thing to do."
"I live in Grunau, as you doubtless know, and am the engineering
expert of large machine works there. My father before me held an
important position in the factory, and my family have always lived in
Grunau. I have traveled a great deal myself. I am forty-five years old, a
childless widower, and live with my old aunt, Miss Babette Graumann,
and my ward, Miss Eleonora Roemer, a young lady of twenty-two."
Muller looked up with a slight start of surprise, but did not say anything.
Graumann continued:
"A little over a year ago, John Siders, who signed himself as coming
from Chicago, bought a piece of property in our town and came to live
there. I made his acquaintance in the cafe and he seemed to take a fancy
to me. I also had spent several years in Chicago, and we naturally came

to speak of the place. We discovered that we had several mutual
acquaintances there, and enjoyed talking over the old times. Otherwise
I did not take particularly to the man, and as I came to know him better
I noticed that he never mentioned that part of his life which lay back of
the years in Chicago. I asked a casual question once or twice as to his
home and family, but he evaded me every time, and would not give a
direct answer. He was evidently a German by birth and education, a
man with university training, and one who knew life thoroughly. He
had delightful manners, and when he could forget his shyness for a
while, he could be very agreeable. The ladies of my family came to like
him, and encouraged him to call frequently. Then the thing happened
that I should not have believed possible. My ward, Miss Roemer, a
quiet, reserved girl, fell in love