第2章 THE CASE OF HE GOLDEN BULLET(1)

by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner"Please, sir, there is a man outside who asks to see you.""What does he want?" asked Commissioner Horn, looking up.

"He says he has something to report, sir.""Send him in, then."

The attendant disappeared, and the commissioner looked up at the clock.It was just striking eleven, but the fellow official who was to relieve him at that hour had not yet appeared.And if this should chance to be a new case, he would probably be obliged to take it himself.The commissioner was not in a very good humour as he sat back to receive the young man who entered the room in the wake of the attendant.The stranger was a sturdy youth, with an unintelligent, good-natured face.He twisted his soft hat in his hands in evident embarrassment, and his eyes wandered helplessly about the great bare room.

"Who are you?" demanded the commissioner.

"My name is Dummel, sir, Johann Dummel."

"And your occupation?"

"My occupation? Oh, yes, I - I am a valet, valet to Professor Fellner."The commissioner sat up and looked interested.He knew Fellner personally and liked him."What have you to report to me?" he asked eagerly.

"I - I don't know whether I ought to have come here, but at home - ""Well, is anything the matter?" insisted Horn.

"Why, sir, I don't know; but the Professor - he is so still - he doesn't answer."Horn sprang from his chair."Is he ill?" he asked.

"I don't know, sir.His room is locked - he never locked it before.""And you are certain he is at home?"

"Yes, sir.I saw him during the night - and the key is in the lock on the inside."The commissioner had his hat in his hand when the colleague who was to relieve him appeared."Good and cold out to-day!" was the latter's greeting.Horn answered with an ironical: "Then I suppose you'll be glad if I relieve you of this case.But I assure you Iwouldn't do it if it wasn't Fellner.Good-bye.Oh, and one thing more.Please send a physician at once to Fellner's house, No.7Field Street."

Horn opened the door and passed on into the adjoining room, accompanied by Johann.The commissioner halted a moment as his eyes fell upon a little man who sat in the corner reading a newspaper."Hello, Muller; you there? Suppose I take you with me?

You aren't doing anything now, are you?"

"No, sir.

"Well, come with me, then.If this should turn out to be anything serious, we may need you."The three men entered one of the cabs waiting outside the police station.As they rattled through the streets, Commissioner Horn continued his examination of the, valet."When did you see your master last?""About eleven o'clock last evening."

"Did you speak with him then?

"No, I looked through the keyhole."

"Oh, indeed; is that a habit of yours?"

Dummel blushed deeply, but his eyes flashed, and he looked angry.

"No, it is not, sir," he growled."I only did it this time because I was anxious about the master.He's been so worked up and nervous the last few days.Last night I went to the theatre, as I always do Saturday evenings.When I returned, about half-past ten it was, I knocked at the door of his bedroom.He didn't answer, and Iwalked away softly, so as not to disturb him in case he'd gone to sleep already.The hall was dark, and as I went through it I saw a ray of light coming from the keyhole of the Professor's study.

That surprised me, because he never worked as late as that before.

I thought it over a moment, then I crept up and looked through the keyhole.""And what did you see?"

"He sat at his desk, quite quiet.So I felt easy again, and went off to bed.""Why didn't you go into the room?"

"I didn't dare, sir.The Professor never wanted to be disturbed when he was writing.""Well, and this morning?"

"I got up at the usual time this morning, set the breakfast table, and then knocked at the Professor's bedroom door to waken him.He didn't answer, and I thought he might want to sleep, seeing as it was Sunday, and he was up late last night.So I waited until ten o'clock.Then I knocked again and tried the door, but it was locked.

That made me uneasy, because he never locked his bedroom door before.

I banged at the door and called out, but there wasn't a sound.Then I ran to the police station."Horn was evidently as alarmed as was the young valet.But Muller's cheeks were flushed and a flash of secret joy, of pleasurable expectation, brightened his deep-set, grey eyes.He sat quite motionless, but every nerve in his body was alive and tingling.The humble-looking little man had become quite another and a decidedly interesting person.He laid his thin, nervous hand on the carriage door.

"We are not there yet," said the commissioner.

"No, but it's the third house from here," replied Muller.

"You know where everybody lives, don't you?" smiled Horn.

"Nearly everybody," answered Muller gently, as the cab stopped before an attractive little villa surrounded by its own garden, as were most of the houses in this quiet, aristocratic part of the town.

The house was two stories high, but the upper windows were closed and tightly curtained.This upper story was the apartment occupied by the owner of the house, who was now in Italy with his invalid wife.Otherwise the dainty little villa, built in the fashionable Nuremberg style, with heavy wooden doors and lozenged-paned windows, had no occupants except Professor Fellner and his servant.With its graceful outlines and well-planned garden, the dwelling had a most attractive appearance.Opposite it was the broad avenue known as the Promenade, and beyond this were open fields.To the right and to the left were similar villas in their gardens.

Dummel opened the door and the three men entered the house.The commissioner and the valet went in first, Muller following them more slowly.His sharp eyes glanced quickly over the coloured tiles of the flooring, over the white steps and the carpeted hallway beyond.

Once he bent quickly and picked up something, then he walked on with his usual quiet manner, out of which every trace of excitement had now vanished.