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
commissi