The Case of the Registered Letter | Page 7

with this man about whom none of us
knew anything, a man with a past of which he did not care to speak.
"I was not in any way satisfied with the match, and they seemed to
realise it. For Siders managed to persuade the girl to a secret
engagement. I discovered it a month or two ago, and it made me very
angry. I did not let them see how badly I felt, but I warned Lora not to
have too much to do with the boy, and I set about finding out
something regarding his earlier life. It was my duty to do this, as I was
the girl's guardian. She has no other relative living, and no one to turn
to except my aunt and myself. I wrote to Mr. Richard Tressider in
Chicago, the owner of the factory in which I had been employed while
there. John had told me that Tressider had been his client during the
four years in which he practiced law in Chicago. I received an answer
about the middle of August. Mr. Tressider had been able to find out
only that John was born in the town of Hartberg in a certain year. This
was enough. I took leave of absence for a few days and went to
Hartberg, which, as you know, is about 140 miles from here. Three
days later I knew all that I wanted to know. John Siders was not the
man's real name, or, rather, it was only part of his name. His full name
was Theodor John Bellmann, and his mother was an Englishwoman
whose maiden name was Siders. His father was a county official who
died at an early age, leaving his widow and the boy in deepest poverty.
Mrs. Bellmann moved to G-- to give music lessons. Theodor went to
school there, then finally to college, and was an excellent pupil

everywhere. But one day it was discovered that he had been stealing
money from the banker in whose house he was serving as private tutor
to the latter's sons. A large sum of money was missing, and every
evidence pointed to young Bellmann as the thief. He denied
strenuously that he was guilty, but the District Judge (it was the present
Prosecuting Attorney Schmidt in G--) sentenced him. He spent eight
months in prison, during which time his mother died of grief at the
disgrace. There must have been something good in the boy, for he had
never forgotten that it was his guilt that struck down his only relative,
the mother who had worked so hard for him. He had atoned for this
crime of his youth, and during the years that have passed since then, he
had been an honest, upright man."
Graumann paused a moment and pressed his hand to his heart again.
His voice had grown weaker, and he breathed hard. Finally he
continued: "I commanded my ward to break off her engagement, as I
could not allow her to marry a man who was a freed convict. Siders
sold his property some few weeks after that and moved to G--.
Eleonora acquiesced in my commands, but she was very unhappy and
allowed me to see very little of her. Then came the events of the
evening of September 23rd, the events which have turned out so
terribly. I will try to tell you the story just as it happened, so far as I am
concerned. I had seen nothing of John since he left this town. He had
made several attempts before his departure for G-- to change my
opinion, and my decision as to his marriage to my ward. But I let him
see plainly that it was impossible for him to enter our family with such
a past behind him. He asserted his innocence of the charges against him,
and declared that he had been unjustly accused and imprisoned. I am
afraid that I was hard towards him. I begin to understand now, as I
never thought I should, what it means to be accused of crime. I begin to
realise that it is possible for every evidence to point to a man who is
absolutely innocent of the deed in question. I begin to think now that
John may have been right, that possibly he also may have been accused
and sentenced on circumstantial evidence alone. I have thought much,
and I have learned much in these terrible days."
The prisoner paused again and sat brooding, his eyes looking out into

space. Muller respected his suffering and sat in equal silence, until
Graumann raised his eyes to his again. "Then came the evening of the
23rd of September?"
"Yes, that evening--it's all like a dream to me." Graumann began again.
"John wrote me a letter asking