so. For as the letter carrier passed him, he called
out: 'Haven't you anything for me?' and as the man shook his head
Winkler seemed greatly disappointed and depressed. Before he left to go
to lunch, he wrote a hasty letter, which he put in his pocket.

"He came in half an hour later than the rest of us. He had often been
reprimanded for his lack of punctuality, but it seemed to do no good. He
was almost always late. Monday was no exception, although he was later
than usual that day."

"And what sort of a mood was he in when he came back?"

"He was irritable and depressed. He seemed to be awaiting a message
which did not come. His excitement hindered him from working, he
scarcely did anything the entire afternoon. Finally at five o'clock a
messenger boy came with a letter for him. I saw that Winkler turned
pale as he took the note in his hand. It seemed to be only a few words
written hastily on a card, thrust into an envelope. Winkler's teeth were
set as he opened the letter. The messenger had already gone away."

"Did you notice his number?" asked Dr. von Riedau.

"No, I scarcely noticed the man at all. I was looking at Winkler, whose
behaviour was so peculiar. When he read the card his face brightened.
He read it through once more, then he tore both card and envelope into
little bits and threw the pieces out of the open window.

"Then he evidently did not want anybody to see the contents of this
note," said a voice from the corner of the room.

Fritz Bormann looked around astonished and rather doubtful at the little
man who had risen from his chair and now came forward. Without waiting
for an answer from the clerk, the other continued: "Did Winkler have
money sent him frequently?"

Bormann looked inquiringly at the commissioner, who replied with a
smile: "You may answer. Answer anything that Mr. Muller has to ask of
you, as he is in charge of this case."

"As far as I can remember, it happened three times," was Bormann's
answer.

"How close together?"

"Why--about once in every three or four months, I think."

"That looks almost like a regular income," exclaimed Riedau. His eyes
met Muller's, which were lit up in sudden fire. "Well, what are you
thinking of?" asked the commissioner.

"A woman," answered Muller; and continued more as if thinking aloud than
as if addressing the others: "Winkler was a good-looking man. Might he
not have had a rich love somewhere? Might not the money have come from
her, t