the
desk. The commissioner handed it to Muller. It was an evening paper,
dated G--, September 24th, and it gave an elaborate account, in
provincial journalese, of the discovery that morning of the body of John
Siders, evidently murdered, in his lodgings. The main facts to be
gathered from the long-winded story were as follows:
John Siders had rented the rooms in which he met his death about ten
days before, paying a month's rent in advance. The lodgings consisted
of two rooms in a little house in a quiet street. It was a street of simple
two-story, one and two family dwellings, occupied by artisans and
small tradespeople. There were many open spaces, gardens and vacant
lots in the street. The house in which Siders lodged belonged to a
travelling salesman by the name of Winter. The man was away from
home a great deal, and his wife, with her child and an old servant, lived
in the lower part of the house, while the rooms occupied by Siders were
in the upper story. Siders lived very quietly, going out frequently in the
afternoon, but returning early in the evening. He had said to his
landlady that he had many friends in G--. But during the time of his
stay in the house he had had but one caller, a gentleman who came on
the evening of the 23rd of September. The old maid had opened the
door for him and showed him to Mr. Siders' rooms. She described this
visitor as having a full black beard, and wearing a broad-brimmed grey
felt hat. Nobody saw the man go out, for the old maid, the only person
in the house at the time, had retired early. Mrs. Winter and her little girl
were spending the night with the former's mother in a distant part of the
city. The next morning the old servant, taking the lodger's coffee up to
him at the usual hour, found him dead on the floor of his sitting-room,
shot through the heart. The woman ran screaming from the house and
alarmed the neighbours. A policeman at the corner heard the noise, and
led the crowd up to the room where the dead man lay. It was plain to be
seen that this was not a case of suicide. Everywhere were signs of a
terrible struggle. The furniture was overturned, the dressing-table and
the cupboard were open and their contents scattered on the floor, one of
the window curtains was torn into strips, as if the victim had been
trying to escape by way of the window, but had been dragged back into
the room by his murderer. An overturned ink bottle on the table had
spattered wide, and added to the general confusion. In the midst of the
disorder lay the body of the murdered man, now cold in the rigour of
death.
The police commissioner arrived soon, took possession of the rooms,
and made a thorough examination of the premises. A letter found on
the desk gave another proof, if such were needed, that this was not a
case of suicide. This letter was in the handwriting of the dead man, and
read as follows:
Dear Friend:
I appreciate greatly all the kindness shown me by yourself and your
good wife. I have been more successful than I thought possible in
overcoming the obstacles you know of. Therefore, I shall be very glad
to join you day after to-morrow, Sunday, in the proposed excursion. I
will call for you at 8 A.M.--the cab and the champagne will be my
share of the trip. We'll have a jolly day and drink a glass or two to our
plans for the future.
With best greetings for both of you, Your old friend, John G--, Friday,
Sept. 23rd.
An envelope, not yet addressed, lay beside this letter. It was clear that
the man who penned these words had no thought of suicide. On the
contrary, he was looking forward to a day of pleasure in the near future,
and laying plans for the time to come. The murderer's bullet had
pierced a heart pulsing with the joy of life.
This was the gist of the account in the evening paper. Muller read it
through carefully, lingering over several points which seemed to
interest him particularly. Then he turned to Miss Babette Graumann.
"And then what happened?" he asked.
"Then the Police Commissioner came to Grunau and questioned my
nephew. They had found out that Albert was Mr. Siders' only friend
here. And late that evening the Mayor and the Commissioner came to
our house with the revolver they had found in the room in G--, and
they--they--" her voice trembled again, "they arrested my dear boy and
took him away."
"Have you visited him in prison? What does he
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