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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Pocket Diary Found in the Snow
+The Project Gutenberg Etext of A Joe Muller Detective Story:
+#1 in our series by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner
+
+Being the Account of Some Adventures in the Professional
+Experience of a Member of the Imperial Austrian Police
+
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+The Case of The Pocket Diary Found in the Snow
+
+by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner
+
+July, 1999  [Etext #1834]
+
+
+*Project Gutenberg Etext of The Pocket Diary Found in the Snow*
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+
+The Case of The Pocket Diary Found in the Snow
+
+by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION TO JOE MULLER
+
+Joseph Muller, Secret Service detective of the Imperial Austrian
+police, is one of the great experts in his profession.  In
+personality he differs greatly from other famous detectives.  He
+has neither the impressive authority of Sherlock Holmes, nor the
+keen brilliancy of Monsieur Lecoq.  Muller is a small, slight,
+plain-looking man, of indefinite age, and of much humbleness of
+mien.  A naturally retiring, modest disposition, and two external
+causes are the reasons for Muller's humbleness of manner, which
+is his chief characteristic.  One cause is the fact that in early
+youth a miscarriage of justice gave him several years in prison,
+an experience which cast a stigma on his name and which made it
+impossible for him, for many years after, to obtain honest
+employment.  But the world is richer, and safer, by Muller's
+early misfortune.  For it was this experience which threw him
+back on his own peculiar talents for a livelihood, and drove him
+into the police force.  Had he been able to enter any other
+profession, his genius might have been stunted to a mere pastime,
+instead of being, as now, utilised for the public good.  
+
+Then, the red tape and bureaucratic etiquette which attaches to
+every governmental department, puts the secret service men of the
+Imperial police on a par with the lower ranks of the subordinates.
+Muller's official rank is scarcely much higher than that of a
+policeman, although kings and councillors consult him and the
+Police Department realises to the full what a treasure it has in
+him.  But official red tape, and his early misfortune ... prevent
+the giving of any higher official standing to even such a genius.
+Born and bred to such conditions, Muller understands them, and
+his natural modesty of disposition asks for no outward honours,
+asks for nothing but an income sufficient for his simple needs,
+and for aid and opportunity to occupy himself in the way he most
+enjoys.
+
+Joseph Muller's character is a strange mixture.  The
+kindest-hearted man in the world, he is a human bloodhound when
+once the lure of the trail has caught him.  He scarcely eats or
+sleeps when the chase is on, he does not seem to know human
+weakness nor fatigue, in spite of his frail body.  Once put on
+a case his mind delves and delves until it finds a clue, then
+something awakes within him, a spirit akin to that which holds
+the bloodhound nose to trail, and he will accomplish the apparently
+impossible, he will track down his victim when the entire machinery
+of a great police department seems helpless to discover anything.
+The high chiefs and commissioners grant a condescending permission
+when Muller asks, "May I do this?  ... or may I handle this case
+this way?" both parties knowing all the while that it is a farce,
+and that the department waits helpless until this humble little
+man saves its honour by solving some problem before which its
+intricate machinery has stood dazed and puzzled.
+
+This call of the trail is something that is stronger than anything
+else in Muller's mentality, and now and then it brings him into
+conflict with the department, ... or with his own better nature.
+Sometimes his unerring instinct discovers secrets in high places,
+secrets which the Police Department is bidden to hush up and leave
+untouched.  Muller is then taken off the case, and left idle for
+a while if he persists in his opinion as to the true facts.  And
+at other times, Muller's own warm heart gets him into trouble.  He
+will track down his victim, driven by the power in his soul which
+is stronger than all volition; but when he has this victim in the
+net, he will sometimes discover him to be a much finer, better man
+than the other individual, whose wrong at this particular criminal's
+hand set in motion the machinery of justice.  Several times that
+has happened to Muller, and each time his heart got the better of
+his professional instincts, of his practical common-sense, too,
+perhaps, ... at least as far as his own advancement was concerned,
+and he warned the victim, defeating his own work.  This peculiarity
+of Muller's character caused his undoing at last, his official
+undoing that is, and compelled his retirement from the force.  But
+his advice is often sought unofficially by the Department, and to
+those who know, Muller's hand can be seen in the unravelling of
+many a famous case.
+
+The following stories are but a few of the many interesting cases
+that have come within the experience of this great detective.
+But they give a fair portrayal of Muller's peculiar method of
+working, his looking on himself as merely an humble member of the
+Department, and the comedy of his acting under "official orders"
+when the Department is in reality following out his directions.
+
+
+
+
+THE CASE OF THE POCKET DIARY FOUND IN THE SNOW
+
+by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE DISCOVERY IN THE SNOW
+
+
+A quiet winter evening had sunk down upon the great city.  The
+clock in the old clumsy church steeple of the factory district had
+not yet struck eight, when the side door of one of the large
+buildings opened and a man came out into the silent street.
+
+It was Ludwig Amster, one of the working-men in the factory,
+starting on his homeward way.  It was not a pleasant road, this
+street along the edge of the city.  The town showed itself from
+its most disagreeable side here, with malodorous factories,
+rickety tenements, untidy open stretches and dumping grounds
+offensive both to eye and nostril.
+
+Even by day the street that Amster took was empty; by night it
+was absolutely quiet and dark, as dark as were the thoughts of the
+solitary man.  He walked along, brooding over his troubles.
+Scarcely an hour before he had been discharged from the factory
+because of his refusal to submit to the injustice of his foreman.
+
+The yellow light of the few lanterns show nothing but high board
+walls and snow drifts, stone heaps, and now and then the remains
+of a neglected garden.  Here and there a stunted tree or a wild
+shrub bent their twigs under the white burden which the winter had
+laid upon them.  Ludwig Amster, who had walked this street for
+several years, knew his path so well that he could take it
+blindfolded.  The darkness did not worry him, but he walked somewhat
+more slowly than usual, for he knew that under the thin covering of
+fresh-fallen snow there lay the ice of the night before.  He walked
+carefully, watching for the slippery places.
+
+He had been walking about half an hour, perhaps, when he came to a
+cross street.  Here he noticed the tracks of a wagon, the trace
+still quite fresh, as the slowly falling flakes did not yet cover it.
+The tracks led out towards the north, out on to the hilly, open
+fields.
+
+Amster was somewhat astonished.  It was very seldom that a carriage
+came into this neighbourhood, and yet these narrow wheel-tracks
+could have been made only by an equipage of that character.  The
+heavy trucks which passed these roads occasionally had much wider
+wheels.  But Amster was to find still more to astonish him.
+
+In one corner near the cross-roads stood a solitary lamp-post.  The
+light of the lamp fell sharply on the snow, on the wagon tracks,
+and - on something else besides.
+
+Amster halted, bent down to look at it, and shook his head as if in
+doubt.
+
+A number of small pieces of glass gleamed up at him and between
+them, like tiny roses, red drops of blood shone on the white snow.
+All this was a few steps to one side of the wagon tracks.
+
+"What can have happened here - here in this weird spot, where a cry
+for help would never be heard?  where there would be no one to bring
+help?"
+
+So Amster asked himself, but his discovery gave him no answer.  His
+curiosity was aroused, however, and he wished to know more.  He
+followed up the tracks and saw that the drops of blood led further
+on, although there was no more glass.  The drops could still be seen
+for a yard further, reaching out almost to the board fence that
+edged the sidewalk.  Through the broken planks of this fence the
+rough bare twigs of a thorn bush stretched their brown fingers.  On
+the upper side of the few scattered leaves there was snow, and blood.
+
+Amster's wide serious eyes soon found something else.  Beside the
+bush there lay a tiny package.  He lifted it up.  It was a small,
+light, square package, wrapped in ordinary brown paper.  Where the
+paper came together it was fastened by two little lumps of black
+bread, which were still moist.  He turned the package over and
+shook his head again.  On the other side was written, in pencil,
+the lettering uncertain, as if scribbled in great haste and in
+agitation, the sentence, "Please take this to the nearest police
+station."
+
+The words were like a cry for help, frozen on to the ugly paper.
+Amster shivered; he had a feeling that this was a matter of life
+and death.
+
+The wagon tracks in the lonely street, the broken pieces of glass
+and the drops of blood, showing that some occupant of the vehicle
+had broken the window, in the hope of escape, perhaps, or to throw
+out the package which should bring assistance - all these facts
+grouped themselves together in the brain of the intelligent
+working-man to form some terrible tragedy where his assistance, if
+given at once, might be of great use.  He had a warm heart besides,
+a heart that reached out to this unknown who was in distress, and
+who threw out the call for help which had fallen into his hands.
+
+He waited no longer to ponder over the matter, but started off at
+a full run for the nearest police station.  He rushed into the room
+and told his story breathlessly.
+
+They took him into the next room, the office of the commissioner
+for the day.  The official in charge, who had been engaged in
+earnest conversation with a small, frail-looking, middle-aged man,
+turned to Amster with a question as to what brought him there.
+
+"I found this package in the snow."
+
+"Let me see it."
+
+Amster laid it on the table.  The older man looked at it, and as
+the commissioner was about to open it, he handed him a paper-knife
+with the words: "You had better cut it open, sir."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"It is best not to injure the seals that fasten a package."
+
+"Just as you say, Muller," answered the young commissioner, smiling.
+He was still very young to hold such an office, but then he was the
+son of a Cabinet Minister, and family connections had obtained this
+responsible position for him so soon.  Kurt von Mayringen was his
+name, and he was a very good-looking young man, apparently a very
+good-natured young man also, for he took this advice from a
+subordinate with a most charming smile.  He knew, however, that this
+quiet, pale-faced little man in the shabby clothes was greater than
+he, and that it was mere accident of birth that put him, Kurt von
+Mayringen, instead of Joseph Muller, in the position of superior.
+
+The young commissioner had had most careful advice from headquarters
+as to Muller, and he treated the secret service detective, who was
+one of the most expert and best known men in the profession, with
+the greatest deference, for he knew that anything Muller might say
+could be only of value to him with his very slight knowledge of his
+business.  He took the knife, therefore, and carefully cut open the
+paper, taking out a tiny little notebook, on the outer side of which
+a handsome monogram gleamed up at him in golden letters.
+
+"A woman made this package," said Muller, who had been looking at
+the covering very carefully; "a blond woman."
+
+The other two looked at him in astonishment.  He showed them a
+single blond hair which had been in one of the bread seals.
+
+"How I was murdered."  Those were the words that Commissioner von
+Mayringen read aloud after he had hastily turned the first few
+pages of the notebook, and had come to a place where the writing
+was heavily underscored.
+
+The commissioner and Amster were much astonished at these words, but
+the detective still gazed quietly at the seals of the wrapping.
+
+"This heading reads like insanity, said the commissioner.  Muller
+shrugged his shoulders, then turned to Amster.  "Where did you find
+the package?"
+
+In Garden street."
+
+"When?"
+
+"About twenty minutes ago."
+
+Amster gave a short and lucid account of his discovery.  His
+intelligent face and well-chosen words showed that he had observation
+and the power to describe correctly what he had observed.  His honest
+eyes inspired confidence.
+
+"Where could they have been taking the woman?" asked the detective,
+more of himself than of the others.
+
+The commissioner searched hastily through the notebook for a
+signature, but without success.  "Why do you think it is a woman?
+This writing looks more like a man's hand to me.  The letters are
+so heavy and - "
+
+"That is only because they are written with  broad pen," interrupted
+Muller, showing him the writing on the package; "here is the same
+hand, but it is written with a fine hard pencil, and you can see
+distinctly that this is a woman's handwriting.  And besides, the
+skin on a man's thumb does not show the fine markings that you can
+see here on these bits of bread that have been used for seals."
+
+The commissioner rose from his seat.  "You may be right, Muller.
+We will take for granted, then, that there is a woman in trouble.
+It remains to be seen whether she is insane or not."
+
+"Yes, that remains to be seen," said Muller dryly, as he reached
+for his overcoat.
+
+"You are going before you read what is in the notebook?" asked
+Commissioner von Mayringen.
+
+Muller nodded.  "I want to see the wagon tracks before they are
+lost; it may help me to discover something else.  You can read the
+book and make any arrangements you find necessary after that."
+
+Muller was already wrapped in his overcoat.  "Is it snowing now?"
+He turned to Arnster.
+
+"Some flakes were falling as I came here."
+
+"All right.  Come with me and show me the way."  Muller nodded
+carelessly to his superior officer, his mind evidently already
+engrossed in thoughts of the interesting case, and hurried out
+with Amster.  The commissioner was quite satisfied with the state
+of affairs.  He knew the case was in safe hands.  He seated
+himself at his desk again and began to read the little book which
+had come into his hands so strangely.  His eyes ran more and more
+rapidly over the closely written pages, as his interest grew and
+grew.
+
+When, half an hour later, he had finished the reading, he paced
+restlessly up and down the room, trying to bring order into the
+thoughts that rushed through his brain.  And one thought came
+again and again, and would not be denied in spite of many
+improbabilities, and many strange things with which the book was
+full; in spite, also, of the varying, uncertain handwriting and
+style of the message.  This one thought was, "This woman is not
+insane."
+
+While the young official was pondering over the problem, Muller
+entered as quietly as ever, bowed, put his hat and cane in their
+places, and shook the snow off his clothing.  He was evidently
+pleased about something.  Kurt von Mayringen did not notice his
+entrance.  He was again at the desk with the open book before him,
+staring at the mysterious words, "How I was murdered."
+
+"It is a woman, a lady of position.  And if she is mad, then her
+madness certainly has method."  Muller said these words in his
+usual quiet way, almost indifferently.  The young commissioner
+started up and snatched for the fine white handkerchief which the
+detective handed him.  A strong sweet perfume filled the room.
+"It is hers?" he murmured.
+
+"It is hers," said Muller.  "At least we can take that much for
+granted, for the handkerchief bears the same monogram, A. L., which
+is on the notebook."
+
+Commissioner von Mayringen rose from his chair in evident excitement.
+"Well?" he asked.
+
+It was a short question, but full of meaning, and one could see that
+he was waiting in great excitement for the answer.  Muller reported
+what he had discovered.  The commissioner thought it little enough,
+and shrugged his shoulders impatiently when the other had finished.
+
+Muller noticed his chief's dissatisfaction and smiled at it.  He
+himself was quite content with what he bad found.
+
+"Is that all?" murmured the commissioner, as if disappointed.
+
+"That is all," repeated the detective calmly, and added, "That is
+a good deal.  We have here a closely written notebook, the contents
+of which, judging by your excitement, are evidently important.  We
+have also a handkerchief with an unusual perfume on it.  I repeat
+that this is quite considerable.  Besides this, we have the seals,
+and we know several other things.  I believe that we can save this
+lady, of if it be too late, we can avenge her at least."
+
+The commissioner looked at Muller in surprise.  "We are in a city
+of more than a million inhabitants," he said, almost timidly.
+
+"I have hunted criminals in two hemispheres, and I have found them,"
+said Muller simply.  The young commissioner smiled and held out his
+hand.  "Ah, yes, Muller - I keep forgetting the great things you
+have done.  You are so quiet about it."
+
+"What I have done is only what any one could do who has that
+particular faculty.  I do only what is in human power to do, and
+the cleverest criminal can do no more.  Besides which, we all know
+that every criminal commits some stupidity, and leaves some trace
+behind him.  If it is really a crime which we have found the trace
+of here, we will soon discover it."  Muller's editorial "we" was a
+matter of formality.  He might with more truth have used the
+singular pronoun.
+
+"Very well, then, do what you can," said the commissioner with a
+friendly smile.
+
+The older man nodded, took the book and its wrappings from the
+desk, and went into a small adjoining room.
+
+The commissioner sent for an attendant and gave him the order to
+fetch a pot of tea from a neighbouring saloon.  When the tray
+arrived, he placed several good cigars upon it, and sent it in to
+Muller.  Taking a cigar himself, the commissioner leaned back in
+his sofa corner to think over this first interesting case of his
+short professional experience.  That it concerned a lady in distress
+made it all the more romantic.
+
+In his little room the detective, put in good humour by the
+thoughtful attention of his chief, sat down to read the book
+carefully.  While he studied its contents his mind went back over
+his search in the silent street outside.
+
+He and Amster had hurried out into the raw chill of the night,
+reaching the spot of the first discovery in about ten or fifteen
+minutes.  Muller found nothing new there.  But he was able to
+discover in which direction the carriage had been going.  The hoof
+marks of the single horse which had drawn it were still plainly to
+be seen in the snow.
+
+"Will you follow these tracks in the direction from which they have
+come?" he asked of Amster.  "Then meet me at the station and report
+what you have seen."
+
+"Very well, sir," answered the workman.  The two men parted with a
+hand shake.
+
+Before Muller started on to follow up the tracks in the other
+direction, he took up one of the larger pieces' of glass.  "Cheap
+glass," he said, looking at it carefully.  "It was only a hired cab,
+therefore, and a one-horse cab at that."
+
+He walked on slowly, following the marks of the wheels.  His eyes
+searched the road from side to side, looking for any other signs
+that might have been left by the hand which had thrown the package
+out of the window.  The snow, which had been falling softly thus far,
+began to come down in heavier flakes, and Muller quickened his pace.
+The tracks would soon be covered, but they could still be plainly
+seen.  They led out into the open country, but when the first little
+hill had been climbed a drift heaped itself up, cutting off the
+trail completely.
+
+Muller stood on the top of this knoll at a spot where the street
+divided.  Towards the right it led down into a factory suburb;
+towards the left the road led on to a residence colony, and straight
+ahead the way was open, between fields, pastures and farms, over
+moors, to another town of considerable size lying beside a river.
+Muller knew all this, but his knowledge of the locality was of
+little avail, for all traces of the carriage wheels were lost.
+
+He followed each one of the streets for a little distance, but to
+no purpose.  The wind blew the snow up in such heaps that it was
+quite impossible to follow any trail under such conditions.
+
+With an expression of impatience Muller gave up his search and
+turned to go back again.  He was hoping that Amster might have
+had better luck.  It was not possible to find the goal towards
+which the wagon had taken its prisoner - if prisoner she was - as
+soon as they had hoped.  Perhaps the search must be made in the
+direction from which she had been brought.
+
+Muller turned back towards the city again.  He walked more quickly
+now, but his eyes took in everything to the right and to the left
+of his path.  Near the place where the street divided a bush waved
+its bare twigs in the wind.  The snow which had settled upon it
+early in the day had been blown away by the freshening wind, and
+just as Muller neared the bush he saw something white fluttering
+from one twig.  It was a handkerchief, which had probably hung
+heavy and lifeless when he had passed that way before.  Now when
+the wind held it out straight, he saw it at once.  He loosened it
+carefully from the thorny twigs.  A delicate and rather unusual
+perfume wafted up to his face.  There was more of the odour on the
+little cloth than is commonly used by people of good taste.  And
+yet this handkerchief was far too fine and delicate in texture to
+belong to the sort of people who habitually passed along this
+street.  It must have something to do with the mysterious carriage.
+It was still quite dry, and in spite of the fact that the wind had
+been playing with it, it had been but slightly torn.  It could
+therefore have been in that position for a short time only.  At
+the nearest lantern Muller saw that the monogram on the handkerchief
+was the same in style and initials as that on the notebook.  It was
+the letters A. L.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE STORY OF THE NOTEBOOK
+
+
+It was warm and comfortable in the little room where Muller sat.
+He closed the windows, lit the gas, took off his overcoat - Muller
+was a pedantically careful person - smoothed his hair and sat down
+comfortably at the table.  Just as he took up the little book, the
+attendant brought the tea, which he proceeded at once to enjoy.  He
+did not take up his little book again until he had lit himself a
+cigar.  He looked at the cover of the dainty little notebook for
+many minutes before he opened it.  It was a couple of inches long,
+of the usual form, and had a cover of brown leather.  In the left
+upper corner were the letters A. L. in gold.  The leaves of the
+book, about fifty in all, were of a fine quality of paper and
+covered with close writing.  On the first leaves the writing was
+fine and delicate, calm and orderly, but later on it was irregular
+and uncertain, as if penned by a trembling hand under stress of
+terror.  This change came in the leaves of the book which followed
+the strange and terrible title, "How I was murdered."
+
+Before Muller began to read he felt the covers of the book carefully.
+In one of them there was a tiny pocket, in which he found a little
+piece of wall paper of a noticeable and distinctly ugly pattern.
+The paper had a dark blue ground with clumsy lines of gold on it.
+In the pocket he found also a tramway ticket, which had been crushed
+and then carefully smoothed out again.  After looking at these
+papers, Muller replaced them in the cover of the notebook.  The book
+itself was strongly perfumed with the same odour which had exhaled
+from the handkerchief.
+
+The detective did not begin his reading in that part of the book
+which followed the mysterious title, as the commissioner had done.
+He began instead at the very first words.
+
+"Ah! she is still young," he murmured, when he had read the first
+lines.  "Young, in easy circumstances, happy and contented."
+
+These first pages told of pleasure trips, of visits from and to good
+friends, of many little events of every-day life.  Then came some
+accounts, written in pencil, of shopping expeditions to the city.
+Costly laces and jewels had been bought, and linen garments for
+children by the dozen.  "She is rich, generous, and charitable,"
+thought the detective, for the book showed that the considerable
+sums which had been spent here had not been for the writer herself.
+The laces bore the mark, "For our church"; behind the account for
+the linen stood the words, "For the charity school."
+
+Muller began to feel a strong sympathy for the writer of these
+notices.  She showed an orderly, almost pedantic, character,
+mingled with generosity of heart.  He turned leaf after leaf until
+he finally came to the words, written in intentionally heavy letters,
+"How I was murdered."
+
+Muller's head sank down lower over these mysterious words, and his
+eyes flew through the writing that followed.  It was quite a
+different writing here.  The hand that penned these words must have
+trembled in deadly terror.  Was it terror of coming death, foreseen
+and not to be escaped?  or was it the trembling and the terror of an
+overthrown brain?  It was undoubtedly, in spite of the difference,
+the same hand that had penned the first pages of the book.  A few
+characteristic turns of the writing were plainly to be seen in both
+parts of the story.  But the ink was quite different also.  The
+first pages had been written with a delicate violet ink, the later
+leaves were penned with a black ink of uneven quality, of the kind
+used by poor people who write very seldom.  The words of this later
+portion of the book were blurred in many places, as if the writer
+had not been able to dry them properly before she turned the leaves.
+She therefore had had neither blotting paper nor sand at her disposal.
+
+And then the weird title!
+
+Was it written at the dictation of insanity? or did A. L. know,
+while she wrote it, that it was too late for any help to reach her?
+Did she see her doom approaching so clearly that she knew there was
+no escape?
+
+Muller breathed a deep breath before he continued his reading.
+Later on his breath came more quickly still, and he clinched his
+fist several times, as if deeply moved.  He was not a cold man,
+only thoroughly self-controlled.  In his breast there lived an
+unquenchable hatred of all evil.  It was this that awakened the
+talents which made him the celebrated detective he had become.
+
+"I fear that it will be impossible for any one to save me now, but
+perhaps I may be avenged.  Therefore I will write down here all
+that has happened to me since I set out on my journey."  These were
+the first words that were written under the mysterious title.  Muller
+had just read them when the commissioner entered.
+
+"Will you speak to Amster; he has just returned?" he asked.
+
+Muller rose at once.  "Certainly.  Did you telegraph to all the
+railway stations?"
+
+"Yes," answered the commissioner, "and also to the other police
+stations."
+
+"And to the hospitals?  - asylums?"
+
+"No, I did not do that." Commissioner von Mayringen blushed, a
+blush that was as becoming to him as was his frank acknowledgment
+of his mistake.  He went out to remedy it at once, while Muller
+heard Amster's short and not particularly important report.  The
+workingman was evidently shivering, and the detective handed him a
+glass of tea with a good portion of rum in it.
+
+"Here, drink this; you are cold.  Are you ill?"  Amster smiled sadly.
+"No, I am not ill, but I was discharged to-day and am out of work
+now - that's almost as bad."
+
+"Are you married?"
+
+"No, but I have an old mother to support."
+
+"Leave your address with the commissioner.  He may be able to find
+work for you; we can always use good men here.  But now drink your
+tea."  Amster drank the glass in one gulp.  "Well, now we have lost
+the trail in both directions," said Muller calmly.  "But we will
+find it again.  You can help, as you are free now anyway.  If you
+have the talent for that sort of thing, you may find permanent work
+here."
+
+A gesture and a look from the workingman showed the detective that
+the former did not think very highly of such occupation.  Muller
+laid his hand on the other's shoulder and said gravely: "You wouldn't
+care to take service with us?  This sort of thing doesn't rate very
+high, I know.  But I tell you that if we have our hearts in the right
+place, and our brains are worth anything, we are of more good to
+humanity than many an honest citizen who wouldn't shake hands with us.
+There - and now I am busy.  Goodnight."
+
+With these words Muller pushed the astonished man out of the room,
+shut the door, and sat down again with his little book.  This is
+what he read:
+
+"Wednesday - is it Wednesday?  They brought me a newspaper to-day
+which had the date of Wednesday, the 20th of November.  The ink
+still smells fresh, but it is so damp here, the paper may have
+been older.  I do not know surely on what day it is that I begin
+to write this narrative.  I do not know either whether I may not
+have been ill for days and weeks; I do not know what may have been
+the matter with me - I know only that I was unconscious, and that
+when I came to myself again, I was here in this gloomy room.  Did
+any physician see me?  I have seen no one until to-day except the
+old woman, whose name I do not know and who has so little to say.
+She is kind to me otherwise, but I am afraid of her hard face and
+of the smile with which she answers all my questions and entreaties.
+"You are ill."  These are the only words that she has ever said
+to me, and she pointed to her forehead as she spoke them.  She
+thinks I am insane, therefore, or pretends to think so.
+
+"What a hoarse voice she has.  She must be ill herself, for she
+coughs all night long.  I can hear it through the wall - she sleeps
+in the next room.  But I am not ill, that is I am not ill in the
+way she says.  I have no fever now, my pulse is calm and regular.
+I can remember everything, until I took that drink of tea in the
+railway station.  What could there have been in that tea?  I suppose
+I should have noticed how anxious my travelling companion was to have
+me drink it.
+
+"Who could the man have been?  He was so polite, so fatherly in his
+anxiety about me.  I have not seen him since then.  And yet I feel
+that it is he who has brought me into this trap, a trap from which
+I may never escape alive.  I will describe him.  He is very tall,
+stout and blond, and wears a long heavy beard, which is slightly
+mixed with grey.  On his right cheek his beard only partly hides a
+long scar.  His eyes are hidden by large smoked glasses.  His voice
+is low and gentle, his manners most correct - except for his giving
+people poison or whatever else it was in that tea.
+
+"I did not suffer any - at least I do not remember anything except
+becoming unconscious.  And I seem to have felt a pain like an iron
+ring around my head.  But I am not insane, and this fear that I feel
+does not spring from my imagination, but from the real danger by
+which I am surrounded.  I am very hungry, but I do not dare to eat
+anything except eggs, which cannot be tampered with.  I tasted some
+soup yesterday, and it seemed to me that it had a queer taste.  I
+will eat nothing that is at all suspicious.  I will be in my full
+senses when my murderers come; they shall not kill me by poison at
+least.
+
+"When I came to my senses again - it was the evening of the day
+before yesterday - I found a letter on the little table beside my
+bed.  It was written in French, in a handwriting that I had never
+seen before, and there was no signature.
+
+"This strange letter demanded of me that I should write to my
+guardian, calmly and clearly, to say that for reasons which I did
+not intend to reveal, I had taken my own life.  If I did this my
+present place of sojourn would be exchanged for a far more agreeable
+one, and I would soon be quite free.  But if I did not do it, I
+would actually be put to death.  A pen, ink and paper were ready
+there for the answer.
+
+Never, I wrote.  And then despair came over me, and I may have
+indeed appeared insane.  The old woman came in.  I entreated and
+implored her to tell me why this dreadful fate should have overtaken
+me.  She remained quite indifferent and I sank back, almost fainting,
+on the bed.  She laid a moist cloth over my face, a cloth that had
+a peculiar odour.  I soon fell asleep.  It seemed to me that there
+was some one else besides the woman in the room with me.  Or was
+she talking to herself?  Next morning the letter and my answer had
+disappeared.  "It was as I thought; there was some one else in my
+room.  Some one who had come on the tramway.  I found the ticket on
+the carpet beside my bed.  I took it and put it in my notebook -
+
+"I believe that it is Sunday to-day.  It is four days now since I
+have been conscious.  The first sound that I remember hearing was
+the blast of a horn.  It must come from a factory very near me.
+The old windows in my room rattle at the sound.  I hear it mornings
+and evenings and at noon, on week days.  I did not hear it to-day,
+so it must be Sunday.  It was Monday, the 18th of November, that
+I set out on my trip, and reached here in the evening - (here?
+I do not know where I am), that is, I set out for Vienna, and I know
+that I reached the Northern Railway station there in safety.
+
+"I was cold and felt a little faint - and then he offered me the
+tea - and what happened after that?  Where am I?  The paper that
+they gave me may have been a day or two old or more.  And to-day is
+Sunday - is it the first Sunday since my departure from home?  I do
+not know.  I know only this, that I set out on the 18th of November
+to visit my kind old guardian, and to have a last consultation with
+him before my coming of age.  And I know also that I have fallen
+into the hands of some one who has an interest in my disappearance.
+
+"There is some one in the next room with the old woman.  I hear a
+man s voice and they are quarrelling.  They are talking of me.  He
+wants her to do something which she will not do.  He commands her
+to go away, but she refuses.  What does he mean to do?  I do not
+want her to leave me alone.  I do not hate her any more; I know
+that she is not bad.  When I listened I heard her speaking of me as
+of an insane person.  She really believes that I am ill.  When the
+man went away he must have been angry.  He stamped down the stairs
+until the steps creaked under his tread: I know it is a wooden
+staircase therefore.
+
+"I am safe from him to-day, but I am really ill of fright.  Am I
+really insane?  There is one thing that I have forgotten to write
+down.  When I first came to myself I found a bit of paper beside me
+on which was written, 'Beware of calling in help from outside.  One
+scream will mean death to you.'  It was written in French like the
+letter.  Why?  Was it because the old woman could not read it?  She
+knew of the piece of paper, for she took it away from me.  It
+frightens me that I should have forgotten to write this down.  Am
+I really ill?  If I am not yet ill, this terrible solitude will make
+me so.
+
+"What a gloomy room this is, this prison of mine.  And such a strange
+ugly wall-paper.  I tore off a tiny bit of it and hid it in this
+little book.  Some one may find it some day and may discover from it
+this place where I am suffering, and where I shall die, perhaps.
+There cannot be many who would buy such a pattern, and it must be
+possible to find the factory where it was made.  And I will also
+write down here what I can see from my barred window.  Far down
+below me there is a rusty tin roof, it looks like as if it might
+belong to a sort of shed.  In front and to the right there are
+windowless walls; to the left, at a little distance, I can see a
+slender church spire, greenish in colour, probably covered with
+copper, and before the church there are two poplar trees of
+different heights.
+
+"Another day has passed, a day of torturing fear!  Am I really
+insane?  I know that I see queer things.  This morning I looked
+towards the window and I saw a parrot sitting there!  I saw it quite
+plainly.  It ruffled up its red and green feathers and stared at me.
+I stared back at it and suddenly it was gone.  I shivered.  Finally
+I pulled myself together and went to the window.  There was no bird
+outside nor was there a trace of any in the snow on the window sill.
+Could the wind have blown away the tracks so soon, or was it really
+my sick brain that appeared to see this tropical bird in the midst
+of the snow?  It is Tuesday to-day; from now on I will carefully
+count the days - the days that still remain to me.
+
+"This morning I asked the old woman about the parrot.  She only
+smiled and her smile made me terribly afraid.  The thought that this
+thing which is happening to me, this thing that I took to be a crime,
+may be only a necessity - the thought fills me with horror!  Am I in
+a prison?  or is this the cell of an insane asylum?  Am I the victim
+of a villain?  or am I really mad?  My pulse is quickening, but my
+memory is quite clear; I can look back over every incident in my life.
+
+"She has just taken away my food.  I asked her to bring me only eggs
+as I was afraid of everything else.  She promised that she would do it.
+
+"Are they looking for me?  My guardian is Theodore Fellner, Cathedral
+Lane, 14.  My own name is Asta Langen.
+
+"They took away my travelling bag, but they did not find this little
+book and the tiny bottle of perfume which I had in the pocket of my
+dress.  And I found this old pen and a little ink in a drawer of the
+writing table in my room.
+
+"Wednesday.  The stranger was here again to-day.  I recognised his
+soft voice.  He spoke to the woman in the hall outside my room.  I
+listened, but I could catch only a few words.  'To-morrow evening
+- I will come myself - no responsibility for you.'  Were these words
+meant for me?  Are they going to take me away?  Where will they take
+me?  Then they do not dare to kill me here?  My head is burning hot.
+I have not dared to drink a drop of liquid for four days.  I dare
+not take anything into which they might have put some drug or some
+poison.
+
+"Who could have such an interest in my death?  It cannot be because
+of the fortune which is to be mine when I come of age; for if I die,
+my father has willed it to various charitable institutions.  I have
+no relatives, at least none who could inherit my money.  I had never
+harmed any one; who can wish for my death?
+
+"There is somebody with her, somebody was listening at the door.
+I have a feeling as if I was being watched.  And yet - I examined
+the door, but there is no crack anywhere and the key is in the lock.
+Still I seem to feel a burning glance resting on me.  Ah! the
+parrot! is this another delusion?  Oh God, let it end soon! I am
+not yet quite insane, but all these unknown dangers around me will
+drive me mad. I must fight against them.
+
+"Thursday.  They brought me back my travelling bag.  My attendant
+is uneasy.  She was longer in cleaning up the room than usual to-day.
+She seemed to want to say something to me, and yet she did not dare
+to speak.  Is something to happen to-day then?  I did not close my
+eyes all night.  Can one be made insane from a distance?  hypnotised
+into it, as it were?  I will not allow fear alone to make me mad.
+My enemy shall not find it too easy.  He may kill my body, but that
+is all - "
+
+These were the last words which Asta Langen had written in her
+notebook, the little book which was the only confidant of her
+terrible need.  When the detective had finished reading it, he closed
+his eyes for a few minutes to let the impression made by the story
+sink into his mind.
+
+Then he rose and put on his overcoat.  He entered the commissioner's
+room and took up his hat and cane.
+
+"Where are you going, Muller?" asked Herr Von Mayringen.
+
+"To Cathedral Lane, if you will permit it."
+
+"At this hour?  it is quarter past eleven! Is there any such hurry,
+do you think?  There is no train from any of our stations until
+morning.  And I have already sent a policeman to watch the house.
+Besides, I know that Fellner is a highly respected man.
+
+"There is many a man who is highly respected until he is found out,"
+remarked the detective.
+
+"And you are going to find out about Fellner?" smiled the
+commissioner.  "And this evening, too?"
+
+"This very evening.  If he is asleep I shall wake him up.  That is
+the best time to get at the truth about a man.
+
+The commissioner sat down at his desk and wrote out the necessary
+credentials for the detective.  A few moments later Muller was in
+the street.  He left the notebook with the commissioner.  It was
+snowing heavily, and an icy north wind was howling through the
+streets.  Muller turned up the collar of his coat and walked on
+quickly.  It was just striking a quarter to twelve when he reached
+Cathedral Lane.  As he walked slowly along the moonlit side of the
+pavement, a man stepped out of the shadow to meet him.  It was the
+policeman who had been sent to watch the house.  Like Muller, he
+wore plain clothes.
+
+"Well?" the latter asked.
+
+"Nothing new.  Mr. Fellner has been ill in bed several days, quite
+seriously ill, they tell me.  The janitor seems very fond of him.
+
+"Hm - we'll see what sort of a man he is.  You can go back to the
+station now, you must be nearly frozen standing here."
+
+Muller looked carefully at the house which bore the number 14.  It
+was a handsome, old-fashioned building, a true patrician mansion
+which looked worthy of all confidence.  But Muller knew that the
+outside of a house has very little to do with the honesty of the
+people who live in it.  He rang the bell carefully, as he wished no
+one but the janitor to hear him.
+
+The latter did not seem at all surprised to find a stranger asking
+for the owner of the house at so late an hour.  "You come with a
+telegram, I suppose?  Come right up stairs then, I have orders to
+let you in."
+
+These were the words with which the old janitor greeted Muller.  The
+detective could see from this that Mr. Theodore Fellner's conscience
+must be perfectly clear.  The expected telegram probably had
+something to do with the non-appearance of Asta Langen, of whose
+terrible fate her guardian evidently as yet knew nothing.  The
+janitor knocked on one of the doors, which was opened in a few
+moments by an old woman.
+
+"Is it the telegram?" she asked sleepily.
+
+"Yes" said the janitor.
+
+"No," said Muller, "but I want to speak to Mr. Fellner."
+
+The two old people stared at him in surprise.
+
+"To speak to him?" said the woman, and shook her head as if in doubt.
+"Is it about Miss Langen?"
+
+"Yes, please wake him." 
+
+"But he is ill, and the doctor - "
+
+"Please wake him up.  I will take the responsibility."
+
+"But who are you?" asked the janitor.
+
+Muller smiled a little at this belated caution on the part of the
+old man, and answered.  "I will tell Mr. Fellner who I am.  But
+please announce me at once.  It concerns the young lady."  His
+expression was so grave that the woman waited no longer, but let
+him in and then disappeared through another door.  The janitor stood
+and looked at Muller with half distrustful, half anxious glances.
+
+"It's no good news you bring," he said after a few minutes.
+
+"You may be right."
+
+"Has anything happened to our dear young lady?"
+
+"Then you know Miss Asta Langen and her family?"
+
+"Why, of course.  I was in service on the estate when all the
+dreadful things happened."
+
+"What things?"
+
+"Why the divorce - and - but you are a stranger and I shouldn't
+talk about these family affairs to you.  You had better tell me what
+has happened to our young lady."
+
+"I must tell that to your master first."
+
+The woman came back at this moment and said to Muller, "Come with
+me, please.  Berner, you are to stay here until the gentleman goes
+out again."
+
+Muller followed her through several rooms into a large bed-chamber
+where he found an elderly man, very evidently ill, lying in bed.
+
+"Who are you?" asked the sick man, raising his head from the pillow.
+The woman had gone out and closed the door behind her.
+
+"My name is Muller, police detective.  Here are my credentials."
+
+Fellner glanced hastily at the paper.  "Why does the police send
+to me?"
+
+"It concerns your ward."
+
+Fellner sat upright in bed now.  He leaned over towards his visitor
+as he said, pointing to a letter on the table beside his bed, "Asta's
+overseer writes me from her estate that she left home on the 18th of
+November to visit me.  She should have reached here on the evening
+of the 18th, and she has not arrived yet.  I did not receive this
+letter until to-day."
+
+"Did you expect the young lady?"
+
+"I knew only that she would arrive sometime before the third of
+December.  That date is her twenty-fourth birthday and she was to
+celebrate it here."
+
+"Did she not usually announce her coming to you?"
+
+"No, she liked to surprise me.  Three days ago I sent her a telegram
+asking her to bring certain necessary papers with her.  This brought
+the answer from the overseer of her estate, an answer which has
+caused me great anxiety.  Your coming makes it worse, for I fear -"
+The sick man broke off and turned his eyes on Muller; eyes so full
+of fear and grief that the detective's heart grew soft.  He felt
+Fellner's icy hand on his as the sick man murmured: "Tell me the
+truth! Is Asta dead?"
+
+The detective shrugged his shoulders.  "We do not know yet.  She
+was alive and able to send a message at half past eight this evening."
+
+"A message?  To whom?"
+
+"To the nearest police station."  Muller told the story as it had
+come to him.
+
+The old man listened with an expression of such utter dazed terror
+that the detective dropped all suspicion of him at once.
+
+"What a terrible riddle," stammered the sick man as the other
+finished the story.
+
+"Would you answer me several questions?" asked Muller.  The old
+gentleman answered quickly, "Any one, every one."
+
+"Miss Langen is rich?"
+
+"She has a fortune of over three hundred thousand guldens, and
+considerable land."
+
+"Has she any relatives?"
+
+"No," replied Fellner harshly.  But a thought must have flashed
+through his brain for he started suddenly and murmured, "Yes, she
+has one relative, a step-brother."
+
+The detective gave an exclamation of surprise.
+
+"Why are you astonished at this?" asked Fellner.
+
+"According to her notebook, the young lady does not seem to know of
+this step-brother."
+
+"She does not know, sir.  There was an ugly scandal in her family
+before her birth.  Her father turned his first wife and their son
+out of his house on one and the same day.  He had discovered that
+she was deceiving him, and also that her son, who was studying
+medicine at the time, had stolen money from his safe.  What he had
+discovered about his wife made Langen doubt whether the boy was his
+son at all.  There was a terrible scene, and the two disappeared
+from their home forever.  The woman died soon after.  The young man
+went to Australia.  He has never been heard of since and has probably
+come to no good."
+
+"Might he not possibly be here in Europe again, watching for an
+opportunity to make a fortune?"
+
+Fellner's hand grasped that of his visitor.  The eyes of the two men
+gazed steadily at each other.  The old man's glance was full of
+sudden helpless horror, the detective's eyes shone brilliantly.
+Muller spoke calmly: "This is one clue.  Is there no one else who
+could have an interest in the young lady's death?"
+
+"No one but Egon Langen, if he bear this name by right, and if he
+is still alive."
+
+"How old would he be now?"
+
+"He must be nearly forty.  It was many years before Langen married
+again."
+
+"Do you know him personally?"
+
+"Have you a picture of Miss Langen?"
+
+Fellner rang a bell and Berner appeared.  "Give this gentleman Miss
+Asta's picture.  Take the one in the silver frame on my desk"; the
+old gentleman's voice was friendly but faint with fatigue.  His old
+servant looked at him in deep anxiety.  Fellner smiled weakly and
+nodded to the man.  "Sad news, Berner!  Sad news and bad news.  Our
+poor Asta is being held a prisoner by some unknown villain who
+threatens her with death."
+
+"My God, is it possible?  Can't we help the poor young lady?"
+
+"We will try to help her, or if it is - too late, we will at least
+avenge her.  My entire fortune shall be given up for it.  But bring
+her picture now."
+
+Berner brought the picture of a very pretty girl with a bright
+intelligent face.  Muller took the picture out of the frame and put
+it in his pocket.
+
+"You will come again?  soon?  And remember, I will give ten thousand
+guldens to the man who saves Asta, or avenges her.  Tell the police
+to spare no expense - I will go to headquarters myself to-morrow."
+
+Fellner was a little surprised that Muller, although he had already
+taken up his hat, did not go.  The sick man had seen the light flash
+up in the eyes of the other as he named the sum.  He thought he
+understood this excitement, but it touched him unpleasantly and he
+sank back, almost frightened, in his cushions as the detective bent
+over him with the words "Good.  Do not forget your promise, for I
+will save Miss Langen or avenge her.  But I do not want the money
+for myself.  It is to go to those who have been unjustly convicted
+and thus ruined for life.  It may give the one or the other of them
+a better chance for the future."
+
+"And you?  what good do you get from that?" asked the old gentleman,
+astonished.  A soft smile illumined the detective's plain features
+and he answered gently, "I know then that there will be some poor
+fellow who will have an easier time of it than I have had."
+
+He nodded to Fellner, who had already grasped his hand and pressed
+it hard.  A tear ran down his grey beard, and long after Muller had
+gone the old gentleman lay pondering over his last words.
+
+Berner led the visitor to the door.  As he was opening it, Muller
+asked: "Has Egon Langen a bad scar on his right cheek?"
+
+Berner's eyes looked his astonishment.  How did the stranger know
+this?  And how did he come to mention this forgotten name.
+
+"Yes, he has, but how did you know it?" he murmured in surprise.
+He received no answer, for Muller was already walking quickly down
+the street.  The old man stared after him for some few minutes,
+then suddenly his knees began to tremble.  He closed the door with
+difficulty, and sank down on a bench beside it.  The wind had blown
+out the light of his lantern; Berner was sitting in the dark
+without knowing it, for a sudden terrible light had burst upon his
+soul, burst upon it so sharply that he hid his eyes with his hands,
+and his old lips murmured, "Horrible!  Horrible!  The brother
+against the sister."
+
+The next morning was clear and bright.  Muller was up early, for he
+had taken but a few hours sleep in one of the rooms of the station,
+before he set out into the cold winter morning.  At the next corner
+he found Amster waiting for him.  "What are you doing here?" he
+asked in astonishment.
+
+I have been thinking over what you said to me yesterday.  Your
+profession is as good and perhaps better than many another."
+
+"And you come out here so early to tell me that?"
+
+Amster smiled.  "I have something else to say."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"The commissioner asked me yesterday if I knew of a church in the
+city that had a slender spire with a green top and two poplars in
+front of it."
+
+Muller looked his interest.
+
+"I thought it might possibly be the Convent Church of the Grey
+Sisters, but I wasn't quite sure, so I went there an hour ago.  It's
+all right, just as I thought.  And I suppose it has something to do
+with the case of last night, so I thought I had better report at
+once.  I was on my way to the station."
+
+"That will do very well.  You have saved us much time and you have
+shown that you are eminently fitted for this business."
+
+"If you really will try me, then - "
+
+"We'll see.  You can begin on this.  Come to the church with me now."
+Muller was no talker, particularly not when, as now, his brain was
+busy on a problem.
+
+The two men walked on quickly.  In about half an hour they found
+themselves in a little square in the middle of which stood an old
+church.  In front of the church, like giant sentinels, stood a pair
+of tall poplars.  One of them looked sickly and was a good deal
+shorter than its neighbour.  Muller nodded as if content.
+
+"Is this the church the commissioner was talking about?" queried
+Amster.
+
+"It is," was the answer.  Muller walked on toward a little house
+built up against the church, which was evidently the dwelling of
+the sexton.
+
+The detective introduced himself to this official, who did not look
+over-intelligent, as a stranger in the city who had been told that
+the view from the tower of the church was particularly interesting.
+A bright silver piece banished all distrust from the soul of the
+worthy man.  With great friendliness he inquired when the gentlemen
+would like to ascend the tower.  "At once," was the answer.
+
+The sexton took a bunch of keys and told the strangers to follow
+him.  A few moments later Muller and his companion stood in the
+tiny belfry room of the slender spire.  The fat sexton, to his own
+great satisfaction, had yielded to their request not to undertake
+the steep ascent.  The cloudless sky lay crystal clear over the
+still sleeping city and the wide spread snow-covered fields which
+lay close at hand, beyond the church.  On the one side were gardens
+and the low rambling buildings of the convent, and on the other
+were huddled high-piled dwellings of poverty.
+
+Muller looked out of each of the four windows in turn.  He spent
+some time at each window, but evidently without discovering what he
+looked for, for he shook his head in discontent.  But when he went
+once more to the opening in the East, into which the sun was just
+beginning to pour its light, something seemed to attract his
+attention.  He called Amster and pointed from the window.  "Your
+eyes are younger than mine, lend them to me.  What do you see over
+there to the right, below the tall factory chimney?"  Muller's voice
+was calm, but there was something in his manner that revealed
+excitement.  Amster caught the infection without knowing why.  He
+looked sharply in the direction towards which Muller pointed, and
+began: "There is a tall house near the chimney, to the right of it,
+one wall touching it.  The house is crowded in between other newer
+buildings, and looks to be very old and of a much better sort than
+its neighbours.  The other houses are plain stone, but this house
+has carvings and statues on it, which are white with snow.  But the
+house is in bad condition, one can see cracks in the wall."
+
+"And its windows?"
+
+"I cannot see them.  They must be on the other side of the house,
+towards the courtyard which seems to be hemmed in by the blank
+walls of the other houses."
+
+"And at the front of the house?"
+
+"There is a low wall in front which shuts off the courtyard from a
+narrow, ill-kept street."
+
+" Yes, I see it myself now.  The street is bordered mainly by
+gardens and vacant lots."
+
+"Yes, sir, that is it."  Muller nodded as if satisfied.  Amster
+looked at him in surprise, still more surprised, however, at the
+excitement he felt himself.  He did not understand it, but Muller
+understood it.  He knew that he had found in Amster a talent akin
+to his own, one of those natures who once having taken up a trail
+cannot rest until they reach their goal.  He looked for a few
+moments in satisfaction at the assistant he had found by such
+chance, then he turned and hastened down the stairs again.
+
+"We're going to that house?" asked Amster when they were down in
+the street.  Muller nodded.
+
+Without hesitation the two men made their way through a tangle of
+dingy, uninteresting alleys, between modem tenements, until about
+ten minutes later they stood before an old three-storied building,
+which had a frontage of four windows on the street.  "This is our
+place," said the detective, looking up at the tall, handsome
+gateway and the rococo carvings that ornamented the front of this
+decaying dwelling.  It was very evidently of a different age and
+class from those about it.
+
+Muller had already raised his hand to pull the bell, when he stopped
+and let it sink again.  His eye caught sight of a placard pasted up
+on the wall of the next house, and already half torn off by the wind.
+The detective walked over, and raising the placard with his cane,
+read the words on it.  "That's right," he said to himself.  Amster
+gave a look on the paper.  But he could not connect the contents of
+the notice with the case of the kidnapped lady, and he shook his
+head in surprise when Muller turned to him with the words: "The lady
+we are looking for is not insane."  On the paper was announced in
+large letters that a reward would be offered to the finder of a red
+and green parrot which had escaped from a neighbouring house.
+
+Muller rang the bell and they had to wait some few minutes before
+the door opened with great creakings, and the towsled head of an
+old woman peered out.
+
+"What do you want?" she asked hoarsely, with distrustful looks.
+
+"Let us in, and then give us the keys of the upstairs rooms."
+Muller's voice was friendly, but the woman grew perceptibly paler.
+
+"Who are you?" she stammered.  Muller threw back his overcoat and
+showed her his badge.  "But there is nobody here, the house is
+quite empty."
+
+"There were a lady and gentleman here last evening."  The woman
+threw a frightened look at Muller, then she said hesitatingly:
+"The lady was insane and has been taken to an asylum."
+
+"That is what the man told you.  He is a criminal and the police are
+looking for him."
+
+"Come with me," murmured the woman.  She seemed to understand that
+further resistance was useless.  She carefully locked the outside
+door.  Amster remained down stairs in the corridor, while Muller
+followed the old woman up the stairs.  The staircase to the third
+story was made of wood.  The house was evidently very old, with
+low ceilings and many dark corners.
+
+The woman led Muller into the room in which she had cared for the
+strange lady at the order of the latter's "husband."  He had told
+her that it was only until he could take the lady to an asylum.  One
+look at the wall paper, a glance out of the window, and Muller knew
+that this was where Asta Langen had been imprisoned.  He sat down
+on a chair and looked at the woman, who stood frightened before him.
+
+"Do you know where they have taken the lady?"
+
+"No, sir.
+
+"Do you know the gentleman's name?"
+
+"No, sir.
+
+"You did not send the lady's name to the authorities?" *
+
+"No, sir.
+___________________________________________________________________
+
+* Any stranger taking rooms in a hotel or lodging house must
+be registered with the police authorities by the proprietor of the
+house within forty-eight hours of arrival.
+___________________________________________________________________
+
+"Were you not afraid you would get into trouble?"
+
+The gentleman paid me well, and I did not think that he meant
+anything bad, and - and - "
+
+"And you did not think that it would be found out?" said Muller
+sternly.
+
+
+"I took good care of the lady."
+
+"Yes, we know that."
+
+"Did she escape from her husband?"
+
+"He was not her husband.  But now tell me all you know about these
+people; the more truthful you are the better it will be for you."
+
+The old woman was so frightened that she could scarcely find
+strength to talk.  When she finally got control of herself again
+she began: "He came here on the first of November and rented this
+room for himself.  But he was here only twice before he brought the
+lady and left her alone here.  She was very ill when he brought her
+here - so ill that he had to carry her upstairs.  I wanted to go
+for a doctor, but he said he was a doctor himself, and that he could
+take care of his wife, who often had such attacks.  He gave me some
+medicine for her after I had put her to bed.  I gave her the drops,
+but it was a long while before she came to herself again.
+
+"Then he told me that she had lost her mind, and that she believed
+everybody was trying to harm her.  She was so bad that he was taking
+her to an asylum.  But he hadn't found quite the right place yet,
+and wanted me to keep her here until he knew where he could take her.
+Once he left a revolver here by mistake.  But I hid it so the lady
+wouldn't see it, and gave it to the gentleman the next time he
+came.  He was angry at that, though I couldn't see why, and said I
+shouldn't have touched it."
+
+The woman had told her story with much hesitation, and stopped
+altogether at this point.  She had evidently suddenly realised that
+the lady was not insane, but only in great despair, and that people
+in such a state will often seek death, particularly if any weapon
+is left conveniently within their reach.
+
+"What did this gentleman look like?" asked Muller, to start her
+talking again.  She described her tenant as very tall and stout
+with a long beard slightly mixed with grey.  She had never seen
+his eyes, for he wore smoked glasses.
+
+"Did you notice anything peculiar about his face?"
+
+"No, nothing except that his beard was ver heavy and almost covered
+his face."
+
+"Could you see his cheeks at all?"
+
+"No, or else I didn't notice."
+
+"Did he leave nothing that might enable us to find
+him?"
+
+"No, sir, nothing.  Or yes, perhaps, but I don't suppose that will
+be any good."
+
+"What was it?  What do you mean?"
+
+"It gave him a good deal of trouble to get the lady into the wagon,
+because she had fainted again.  He lost his glove in doing it.  I
+have it down stairs in my room, for I sleep down stairs again since
+the lady has gone."
+
+Muller had risen from his chair and walked over to the old writing
+desk which stood beside one window.  There were several sheets of
+ordinary brown paper on it and sharp pointed pencil and also
+something not usually found on writing desks, a piece of bread from
+which some of the inside had been taken.  "Everything as I expected
+it" he said to himself.  "The young lady made up the package in the
+last few moments that she was left alone here."
+
+He turned again to the old woman and commanded her to lead him down
+stairs.  "What sort of a carriage was it in which they took the lady
+away?" he asked as they went down.
+
+"A closed coupe."
+
+"Did you see the number?"
+
+"No, sir.  But the carriage was very shabby and so was the driver."
+
+"Was he an old man?"
+
+"He was about forty years old, but he looked like a man who drank.
+He had a light-coloured overcoat on."
+
+"Good.  Is this your room?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+They were now in the lower corridor, where they found Amster walking
+up and down.  The woman opened the door of the little room, and took
+a glove from a cupboard.  Muller put it in his pocket and told the
+woman not to leave the house for anything, as she might be sent for
+to come to the police station at any moment.  Then he went out into
+the street with Amster.  When they were outside in the sunlight, he
+looked at the glove.  It was a remarkably small size, made for a
+man with a slender, delicate hand, not at all in accordance with the
+large stout body of the man described by the landlady.  Muller put
+his hand into the glove and found something pushed up into the
+middle finger.  He took it out and found that it was a crumpled
+tramway ticket.
+
+"Look out for a shabby old closed coupe, with a driver about forty
+years old who looks like a drunkard and wears a light overcoat.  If
+you find such a cab, engage it and drive in it to the nearest police
+station.  Tell them there to hold the man until further notice.  If
+the cab is not free, at least take his number.  And one thing more,
+but you will know that yourself, - the cab we are looking for will
+have new glass in the right-hand window."  Thus Muller spoke to his
+companion as he put the glove into his pocket and unfolded the
+tramway ticket.  Amster understood that they had found the starting
+point of the drive of the night before.
+
+"I will go to all coupe stands," he said eagerly.
+
+"Yes, but we may be able to find it quicker than that."  Muller took
+the little notebook, which he was now carrying in his pocket, and
+took from it the tramway ticket which was in the cover.  He compared
+it with the one he had just found.  They were both marked for the
+same hour of the day and for the same ride.
+
+"Did the man use them?" asked Amster.  The detective nodded.  "How
+can they help us?"
+
+"Somewhere on this stretch of the street railroad you will probably
+find the stand of the cab we are looking for.  The man who hired it
+evidently arrived on the 6:30 train at the West Station - I have
+reason to believe that he does not live here, - and then took the
+street car to this corner.  The last ticket is marked for yesterday.
+In the car he probably made his plans to hire a cab.  So you had
+better stay along the line of the car tracks.  You will find me in
+room seven, Police Headquarters, at noon to-day.  The authorities
+have already taken up the case.  You may have something to tell us
+then.  Good luck to you."
+
+Muller hurried on, after he had taken a quick breakfast in a little
+cafe.  He went at once to headquarters, made his report there and
+then drove to Fellner's house.  The latter was awaiting him with
+great impatience.  There the detective gathered much valuable
+information about the first marriage of Asta Langen's long-dead
+father.  It was old Berner who could tell him the most about these
+long-vanished days.
+
+When he reached his office at headquarters again, he found telegrams
+in great number awaiting him.  They were from all the hospitals and
+insane asylums in the entire district.  But in none of them had
+there been a patient fitting the description of the vanished girl.
+Neither the commissioner nor Muller was surprised at this negative
+result.  They were also not surprised at all that the other branches
+of the police department had been able to discover so little about
+the disappearance of the young lady.  They were aware that they
+had to deal with a criminal of great ability who would be careful
+not to fall into the usual slips made by his kind.
+
+There was no news from the cab either, although several detectives
+were out looking for it.  It was almost nightfall when Amster ran
+breathlessly into room number seven.  "I have him! he's waiting
+outside across the way!"  This was Amster's report.
+
+Muller threw on his coat hastily.  "You didn't pay him, did you?
+On a cold day like this the drivers don't like to wait long in any
+one place."
+
+"No danger.  I haven't money enough for that," replied Amster with
+a sad smile.  Muller did not hear him as he was already outside.
+But the commissioner with whom he had been talking and to whom
+Muller had already spoken of his voluntary assistant, entered into
+a conversation with Amster, and said to him finally: "I will take
+it upon myself to guarantee your future, if you are ready to enter
+the secret service under Muller's orders.  If you wish to do this
+you can stay right on now, for I think we will need you in this case."
+
+Amster bowed in agreement.  His life had been troubled, his
+reputation darkened by no fault of his own, and the work he was
+doing now had awakened, an interest and an ability that he did not
+know he possessed.  He was more than glad to accept the offer made
+by the official.
+
+Muller was already across the street and had laid his hand upon the
+door of the cab when the driver turned to him and said crossly,
+"Some one else has ordered me.  But I am not going to wait in this
+cold, get in if you want to."
+
+"All right.  Now tell me first where you drove to last evening with
+the sick lady and her companion?"  The man looked astonished but
+found his tongue again in a moment.  "And who are you?" he asked
+calmly.
+
+"We will tell you that upstairs in the police station," answered
+Muller equally calmly, and ordered the man to drive through the
+gateway into the inner courtyard.  He himself got into the wagon,
+and in the course of the short drive he had made a discovery.  He
+had found a tiny glass stopper, such as is used in perfume bottles.
+He could understand from this why the odour of perfume which had
+now become familiar to him was still so strong inside the old cab.
+Also why it was so strong on the delicate handkerchief.  Asta Langen
+had taken the stopper from the bottle in her pocket, so as to leave
+a trail of odour behind her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THREE
+
+THE LONELY COTTAGE
+
+
+Fifteen minutes after the driver had made his report to Commissioner
+Von Mayringen, the latter with Amster entered another cab.  A
+well-armed policeman mounted the box of this second vehicle.  "Follow
+that cab ahead," the commissioner told his driver.  The second cab
+followed the one-horse coupe in which Muller was seated.  They drove
+first to No. 14 Cathedral Lane, where Muller told Berner to come
+with him.  He found Mr. Fellner ready to go also, and it was with
+great difficulty that he could dissuade the invalid, who was greatly
+fatigued by his morning visit to the police station, from joining
+them.
+
+The carriages then drove off more quickly than before.  It was now
+quite dark, a gloomy stormy winter evening.  Muller had taken his
+place on the box of his cab and sat peering out into the darkness.
+In spite of the sharp wind and the ice that blew against his face the
+detective could see that they were going out from the more closely
+built up portions of the city, and were now in new streets with
+half-finished houses.  Soon they passed even these and were outside
+of the city.  The way was lonely and dreary, bordered by wooden
+fences on both sides.  Muller looked sharply to right and to left.
+
+"You should have become alarmed here," he said to the driver,
+pointing to one part of the fence.
+
+"Why?" asked the man.
+
+"Because this is where the window was broken."
+
+"I didn't know that - until I got home."
+
+"H'm; you must have been nicely drunk."
+
+The driver murmured something in his beard.
+
+"Stop here, this is your turn, down that street," Muller said a
+few moments later, as the driver turned the other way.
+
+"How do you know that?" asked the man, surprised.
+
+"None of your business."
+
+"This street will take us there just the same."
+
+"Probably, but I prefer to go the way you went yesterday."
+
+"Very well, it's all the same to me."  They were silent again,
+only the wind roared around them, and somewhere in the distance a
+fog horn moaned.
+
+It was now six o'clock.  The snow threw out a mild light which could
+not brighten the deep darkness around them.  About half an hour
+later the first cab halted.  "There's the house up there.  Shall I
+drive to the garden gate?"
+
+"No, stop here."  Muller was already on the ground.  "Are there any
+dogs here?" he asked.
+
+"I didn't hear any yesterday."
+
+"That's of no value.  You didn't seem to hear much of anything
+yesterday."  Muller opened the door of the cab and helped Berner
+out.  The old man was trembling.  "That was a dreadful drive!"
+he stammered.
+
+"I hope you will be happier on the drive back," said the detective
+and added, "You stay here with the commissioner now."
+
+The latter had already left his cab with his companion.  His sharp
+eyes glanced over the heavily shaded garden and the little house in
+its midst.  A little light shone from two windows of the first story.
+The men's eyes looked toward them, then the detective and Amster
+walked toward a high picket fence which closed the garden on the
+side nearest its neighbours.  They shook the various pickets without
+much caution, for the wind made noise enough to kill any other sound.
+Amster called to Muller, he had found a loose picket, and his strong
+young arms had torn it out easily.  Muller motioned to the other
+three to join them.  A moment later they were all in the garden,
+walking carefully toward the house.
+
+The door was closed but there were no bars at the windows of the
+ground floor.  Amster looked inquiringly at the commissioner and
+the latter nodded and said, "All right, go ahead."
+
+The next minute Amster had broken in through one pane of the window
+and turned the latch.  The inner window was broken already so that
+it was not difficult for him to open it without any further noise.
+He disappeared into the dark room within.  In a few seconds they
+heard a key turn in the door and it opened gently.  The men entered,
+all except the policeman, who remained outside.  The blind of his
+lantern was slightly opened, and he had his revolver ready in his
+hand.
+
+Muller had opened his lantern also, and they saw that they were
+in a prettily furnished corridor from which the staircase and one
+door led out.
+
+The, four men tiptoed up the stairway and the commissioner stepped
+to the first of the two doors which opened onto the upper corridor.
+He turned the key which was in the lock, and opened the door, but
+they found themselves in a room as dark as was the corridor.  From
+somewhere, however, a ray of light fell into the blackness.  The
+official stepped into the room, pulling Berner in after him.  The
+poor old man was in a state of trembling excitement when he found
+himself in the house where his beloved young lady might already be
+a corpse.  One step more and a smothered cry broke from his lips.
+The commissioner had opened the door of an adjoining room, which
+was lighted and handsomely furnished.  Only the heavy iron bars
+across the closed windows showed that the young lady who sat leaning
+back wearily in an arm-chair was a prisoner.
+
+She looked up as they entered.  The expression of utter despair and
+deep weariness which had rested on her pale face changed to a look
+of terror; then she saw that it was not her would-be murderer who
+was entering, but those who came to rescue.  A bright flush illumined
+her cheeks and her eyes gleamed.  But the change was too sudden for
+her tortured soul.  She rose from her chair, then sank fainting to
+the floor.
+
+Berner threw himself on his knees beside her, sobbing out, "She is
+dying!  She is dying!"
+
+Muller turned on the instant, for he had heard the door on the other
+side of the hall open, and a tall  slender man with a smooth face
+and a deep scar on his right cheek stood on the threshold looking at
+them in dazed surprise.  For an instant only had he lost his control.
+The next second he was in his room again, slamming the door behind
+him.  But it was too late.  Amster's foot was already in the crack
+of the door and he pushed it open to let Muller enter.  "Well done,"
+cried the latter, and then he turned to the man in the room.  "Here,
+stop that.  I can fire twice before you get the window open."
+
+The man turned and walked slowly to the centre of the room, sinking
+down into an arm-chair that stood beside the desk.  Neither Amster
+nor Muller turned their eyes from him for a moment, ready for any
+attempt on his part to escape.  But the detective had already seen
+something that told him that Langen was not thinking of flight.
+When he turned to the desk, Muller had seen his eyes glisten while
+a scornful smile parted his thin, lips.  A second later he had let
+his handkerchief fall, apparently carelessly, upon the desk.  But
+in this short space of time the detective's sharp eyes had seen a
+tiny bottle upon which was a black label with a grinning skull.
+Muller could not see whether the bottle was full or empty, but now
+he knew that it must hold sufficient poison to enable the captured
+criminal to escape open disgrace.  Knowing this, Muller looked with
+admiration at the calmness of the villain, whose intelligent eyes
+were turned towards him in evident curiosity.
+
+"Who are you and who else is here with you?" asked the man calmly.
+
+"I am Muller of the Secret Service," replied his visitor and added,
+"You must put up with us for the time being, Mr. Egon Langen.  The
+police commissioner is occupied with your step-sister, whom you
+were about to murder."
+
+Langen put his hand to his cheek, looking at Muller between his
+lashes as he said, "To murder?  Who can prove that?"
+
+"We have all the proofs we need."
+
+"I will acknowledge only that I wanted Asta to disappear."
+
+Muller smiled.  "What good would that have done you?  You wanted
+her entire fortune, did you not?  But that could have come to you
+only after thirty years, and you are not likely to have waited that
+long.  Your plan was to murder your step-sister, even if you could
+not get a letter from her telling of her intention to commit suicide."
+
+Langen rose suddenly, but controlled himself again and sank back
+easily in his chair.  "Then the old woman has been talking?" he
+asked.
+
+Muller shook his head.  "We knew it through Miss Langen herself."
+
+"She has spoken to no one for over ten days."
+
+"But you let her throw her notebook out of the window of the cab."
+
+"Ah - "
+
+"There, you see, you should not have let that happen."
+
+Drops of perspiration stood out on Langen's forehead.  Until now,
+perhaps, he had had some possible hope of escape.  It was useless
+now, he knew.
+
+As calmly as he had spoken thus far Muller continued.  "For twenty
+years I have been studying the hearts of criminals like yourself.
+But there are things I do not understand about this case and it
+interests me very much."
+
+Langen had wiped the drops from his forehead and he now turned on
+Muller a face that seemed made of bronze.  There was but one
+expression on it, that of cold scorn.
+
+"I feel greatly flattered, sir, to think that I can offer a problem
+to one of your experience," Langen began.  His voice, which had been
+slightly veiled before, was now quite clear.  "Ask me all you like.
+I will answer you."
+
+Muller began: "Why did you wait so long before committing the
+murder?  and why did you drag your victim from place to place when
+you could have killed her easily in the compartment of the railway
+train?"
+
+"The windows of the compartment were open, my honoured friend, and
+it was a fine warm evening for the season, because of which the
+windows in the other compartment were also open.  There was nothing
+else I could do at that time then, except to offer Asta a cup of
+tea when she felt a little faint upon leaving the train.  I am a
+physician and I know how to use the right drugs at the right time.
+When Asta had taken the tea, she knew nothing more until she woke
+up a day later in a room in the city."
+
+"And the piece of paper with the threat on it?  and the, revolver
+you left so handy for her?  oh, but I forgot, the old woman took
+the weapon away before the lady could use it in her despair," said
+Muller.
+
+"Quite right.  I see you know every detail."
+
+"But why didn't you complete your crime in the room in the old
+house?" persisted Muller.
+
+"Because I lost my false beard one day upon the staircase, and I
+feared the old woman might have seen my face enough to recognise me
+again.  I thought it better to look for another place."
+
+"And then you found this house."
+
+"Yes, but several days later."
+
+"And you hired it in the name of Miss Asta Langen?  Who would then
+have been found dead here several days after you had entered the
+house?"
+
+"Several days, several weeks perhaps.  I preferred to wait until
+the woman who rented the house had read in the papers that Asta
+Langen had disappeared and was being sought for.  Somebody would
+have found her here, and her identity would have easily been
+established, for I knew that she had some important family documents
+with her."
+
+Muller was silent a moment, with an expression of deep pity on his
+face.  Then he continued: "Yes, someone would have found her, and
+her suicide would have been a dark mystery, unless, of course,
+malicious tongues would have found ugly reasons enough why a
+beautiful young lady should hide herself in a lonely cottage to
+take her own life."
+
+Muller had spoken as if to himself.  Egon Langen's lips, parted in
+a smile so evil that Amster clenched his fists.
+
+"And you would not have regretted this ruining the reputation as
+well as taking the life of an innocent girl?" asked the detective
+low and tense.
+
+"No, for I hated her."
+
+"You hated her because she was rich and innocent.  She was very
+charitable and would gladly have helped you if you were in need.
+Beside this, you were entitled to a portion of your father's estate.
+It is almost thirty thousand guldens, as Mr. Fellner tells me.  Why
+did you not take that?"
+
+"Fellner did not know that I had already received twenty thousand
+of this when my father turned me out.  He probably would have heard
+of it later, for Berner was the witness.  I did not care for the
+remaining ten thousand because I would have the entire fortune after
+Asta's death.  I would have seen the official notice and the call
+for heirs in Australia, and would have written from there, announcing
+that I was still alive.  If you had come several days later I should
+have been a rich man within a year."
+
+His clenched fist resting on his knee, the rascal stared out ahead
+of him when he ended his shameless confession.  In his rage and
+disappointment he had not noticed that Muller's hand dropped gently
+to the desk and softly took a little bottle from under the
+handkerchief.  Langen came out of his dark thoughts only when
+Muller's voice broke the silence.  "But you miscalculated, if you
+expected to inherit from your sister.  She is still a minor and
+your father's will would have given you only ten thousand guldens.
+
+"But you forget that Asta will be twenty-four on the third of
+December."
+
+"Ah, then you would have kept her alive until then."
+
+"You understand quickly," said Langen with a mocking smile.
+
+"But she disappeared on the eighteenth of November.  How could you
+prove that she died after her birthday, therefore in full possession
+of her fortune and without leaving any will?"
+
+"That is very simple.  I buy several newspapers every day.  I would
+have taken them up to the fourth and fifth of December and left them
+here with the body."
+
+"You are more clever even than I thought," said the detective dryly
+as he heard the commissioner's steps behind him.  Muller put a
+whistle to his lips and its shrill tone ran through the house,
+calling up the policeman who stood by the door.
+
+Egon Langen's face was grey with pallor, his features were
+distorted, and yet there was the ghost of a smile on his lips as
+he saw his captors enter the door.  He put his hand out, raised
+his handkerchief hastily and then a wild scream echoed through the
+room, a scream that ended in a ghastly groan.
+
+"I have taken your bottle, you might as well give yourself up
+quietly," said Muller calmly, holding his revolver near Langen's
+face.  The prisoner threw himself at the detective but was caught
+and overpowered by Amster and the policeman.
+
+A quarter of an hour later the cabs drove back toward the city.
+Inside one cowered Egon Langen, watched by the policeman and Amster.
+Berner was on the box beside the driver, telling the now interested
+man the story of what had happened to his dear young lady.  In the
+other cab sat Asta Langen with Kurt von Mayringen and Muller.
+
+"Do you feel better now?" asked the young commissioner in sincere
+sympathy that was mingled with admiration for the delicate beauty
+of the girl beside him, an admiration heightened by her romantic
+story and marvelous escape.
+
+Asta nodded and answered gently: "I feel as if some terrible weight
+were lifted from my heart and brain.  But I doubt if I will ever
+forget these horrible days, when I had already come to accept it as
+a fact that - that I was to be murdered."
+
+"This is the man to whom you owe your escape," said the commissioner,
+laying his hand on Muller's knee.  Asta did not speak, but she
+reached out in the darkness of the cab, caught Muller's hand and
+would have raised it to her lips, had not the little man drawn it
+away hastily."  It was only my duty, dear young lady," he said.
+"A duty that is not onerous when it means the rescue of innocence
+and the preventing of crime.  It is not always so, unfortunately
+- nor am I always so fortunate as in this case."
+
+This indeed is what Muller calls a "case with a happy ending," for
+scarcely a year later, to his own great embarrassment, he found
+himself the most honoured guest, and a centre of attraction equally
+with the bridal couple, at the marriage of Kurt von Mayringen and
+Asta Langen.  Muller asserts, however, that he is not a success in
+society, and that he would rather unravel fifty difficult cases
+than again be the "lion" at a fashionable function.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg Etext of The Pocket Diary Found in the Snow
+
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