When Muller left the commissioner's room and walked through the
outer office, one of the clerks looked after him and whispered to his
companion: "Do you think he's found the Hietzing murderer yet?" The
other answered: "I don't think so, but he looks as if he had found a
clue. He'll find him sooner or later. He always does."

Muller did not hear these words, although they also would have pleased
him. He walked slowly down the stairs murmuring to himself: "I think I
was right just the same. We are following a false trail."

CHAPTER V. BY A THREAD

It was on Monday, the 27th of September, that Leopold Winkler was
murdered and robbed, and early on Tuesday, the 28th, his body was found.
That day the evening papers printed the report of the murder and the
description of the dead man, and on Wednesday, the 29th, Mrs. Klingmayer
read the news and went to see Winkler's employer. By noon of that day
the body was identified and a description of the stolen purse and watch
telegraphed to police headquarters in various cities. A few hours later,
these police stations had sent out notices by messenger to all pawnshops
and dealers in second-hand clothing, and now the machinery of the
law sat waiting for some news of an attempt on the part of the
robber-and-murderer to get rid of his plunder.

On this same Wednesday, about the twilight hour, David Goldstamm, dealer
in second-hand clothing, stood before the door of his shop in a side
street of the old Hungarian city of Pressburg and watched his assistant
take down the clothes which were hanging outside and carry them into the
store. The old man's eyes glanced carelessly up and down the street and
caught sight of a man who turned the corner and came hurrying towards
him. This man was a very seedy-looking individual. An old faded overcoat
hung about his thin figure, and a torn and dusty hat fell over his left
eye. He seemed also to be much the worse for liquor and very wobbly
on his feet. And yet he seemed anxious to hurry onward in spite of the
unevenness of his walk.

Then he slowed up suddenly, glanced across the street to Goldstamm's
store, and crossed over.

"Have you any boots for me?" he asked, sticking out his right foot that
the dealer might see whether he had anything the requisite size.

"I think there's something there," answered the old man in his usual
businesslike tone, leading the way into the store.

The stranger followed. Goldstamm lit the one light in