4495944.16.30
HARVARD COLLEGE LIBRARY

VERDE
PURCHASED FROM THE
BOSTON LIBRARY SOCIETY
WITH INCOME FROM THE
AMEY RICHMOND SHELDON FUND
1941





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THE MAN WITH THE
BLACK CORD





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“Before her brother could catch her she fell to the
ground unconscious"
(frontispiece)


THE MAN WITH THE
BLACK CORD
BY
AUGUSTA GRONER
AUTHOR OF “ JOE MÜLLER: DETECTIVE"
TRANSLATED BY
GRACE ISABEL COLBRON

NEW YORK
DUFFIELD & COMPANY
1911


49594, 16.30
PARVARD
UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY
MAR 5 1941
Copyright, 1911,
BY DUFFIELD & COMPANY


CONTENTS
CHAPTER
PAGE
I LEOPOLD ERLACH DISAPPEARS . . . . . . . 3
II A MOTHER'S FEAR . . . . . . . . . . . 16
III JOSEPH MULLER TAKES UP THE ERLACH CASE . . 24
IV MULLER'S NEW HOUSEKEEPER . . . . . . . 43
V THE RETURN OF THE PRODIGAL . . . . . . . 51
VI WHAT STILLINGER SAW ON THE Black Moor..73
VII MR. ROBERT HARTMANN COMES TO INZERSDORF . .
VIII MIDNIGHT IN THE GREEN HOUSE · · · · · ·
IX MULLER VIsits Eva GEIRINGER . . . . . . . 125
X COLUMBUS AND THE EGG . . . . . . . 137
XI MULLER VISITS Rose COTTAGE ....
XII THE EMBARRASSMENT OF BAUER . . . . . .
XIII MR. HARTMANN IS CALLED AWAY . . . . . .
XIV MULLER AND KARL GO ON A JOURNEY . . . . .
XV ON THE EVE OF ACTION . . . . . . . . . 225
XVI “I AM THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD". . .
XVII WHERE THE Blow FALLS . . . . . . . . .
XVIII EPILOGUE . . . . . . . . . . . . . 283





LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Page
"BEFORE HER BROTHER COULD CATCH HER, SHE
FELL TO THE GROUND UNCONSCIOUS”...........Frontispiece
"MULLER EXAMINED His LATEST DISCOVERY"......
116





4 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
its exterior in a mass of rich-toned green, half a dozen
different clinging plants striving for a place there.
This rather unusual completeness of nature's en-
croachment gave the building the popular name of the
“ Green House."
Mr. Leopold Erlach, the owner of this attractive
property, was neither popular nor gregarious. Few
visitors passed the heavy gates in the high brick wall
that enclosed the pleasant well-kept garden with its
wealth of flower-beds under spreading trees.
On a bright September morning, warm even for the
season although following a night of storm the
“ Green House” dozed in its customary quiet. The
gardener moved silently about the grounds at his task
of gathering up the leaves and twigs torn down by
the night wind. Within the kitchen, Mrs. Teresa
Tonner, Mr. Erlach's cook and housekeeper, stood at
the table preparing her master's breakfast tray. Her
movements were slow and heavy, and the expression
of her worn and haggard face, which yet gave evi-
dences of refinement beyond her station, was more
than usually distraught and uneasy. She caught her-
self two or three times in little forgetfulnesses of the
daily routine, even in such a simple matter as prepar-
ing the breakfast, and it took a visible effort for her to
pull herself together.
She was well aware of the fact that any carelessness
coming to Mr. Erlach's notice might cost her her
place. For this elderly bachelor was a very particular
and exacting employer and there were many changes
in his household force. The few people who had oc-
casion to observe it were rather surprised that a
woman of so sensitive a nature as Mrs. Tonner
should have endured his eccentricities for nearly two
years.
When the tray was finally ready and carried into
the dining-room, Mrs. Tonner was relieved to find


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 5
that Mr. Erlach was not already seated there, as was
his usual custom. It gave her time to cast a last
glance around and to see whether everything was in
order. Then she returned to her own room, which
lay between the kitchen and the dining-room and
through which she had to pass when going to and fro
between these rooms. She left the door into the din-
ing-room open that she might hear Mr. Erlach when
he came out from his own bed-chamber.
Mrs. Tonner sank down into a chair, and her eyes,
full of a dreary despair, glanced abstractedly about
the neat little apartment. Suddenly she started, a
quick flush mounted to her faded cheeks and she
sprang from her seat. She had caught sight of a
bright-colored piece of silk, a man's neck muffler,
which lay thrown over the arm of the sofa. She
snatched it up and threw it into a cupboard drawer,
looking about uneasily.
Then she relaxed into troubled thought again, until
suddenly the realization that Mr. Erlach had not yet
entered the dining-room penetrated her consciousness.
She glanced at the clock and saw that the tray had
been standing on the table for fifteen minutes. She
rose, took the hot milk and the coffee back to the
kitchen and put them on the stove. Then she went
to her own room again, but a feeling of growing un-
ease would not let her rest. Such a change in her
employer's methodical habits was unprecedented.
Mrs. Tonner walked slowly into the dining-room
and stood there waiting and listening for some noise
from her master's apartment. In the utter stillness
of the heavy-walled house her own breath seemed to
stop, as she stood there with her hands pressed to
her heart. Then, as if driven by some impulse she
could not understand, the woman moved forward
slowly until she found herself in the hall in front of
the bedroom door. Here she knelt with her ear to


6 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
the keyhole and listened again. Not a sound, no
moving about, not even a breath, came from within.
The kneeling woman rose suddenly to her feet and
fell back against the doorjamb, her face ghastly pale,
her lips parted in a gasping sob. Her heart stood still
before the sudden horror that had seized it. She con-
trolled herself with an effort and turned the doorknob
resolutely. The door was locked on the inside, an-
other most unusual thing. But in spite of its un-
usualness this fact seemed to bring relief to Mrs.
Tonner's mind. She moved quickly to the next door
down the hall, which led into Mr. Erlach's study.
This door also was locked on the inside and again
Mrs. Tonner felt a surge of relief roll over her
troubled mind.
But it was only momentary. The dread came back
again and she beat at the door, rattling the knob and
calling her employer's name loudly.
No sound came from within the closed rooms.
“Oh, what is it? - what is the matter? — what
has happened?” exclaimed the woman.
She ran to the front door and found it locked as
usual. The outer iron gate was also locked and the
keys of both doors were presumably in their usual
place on the little table near Mr. Erlach's bed.
The now thoroughly frightened woman hurried
back to the dining-room and through it and her own
room to the kitchen. The straight broad hall that
ran the length of the house was divided two-thirds of
its length by a cross-wall, so that it was necessary to
go through the dining-room to reach the kitchen and
the back door. As she passed through her own room,
and also in the kitchen, Mrs. Tonner cast a glance
of anxious scrutiny in every corner. Some hideous
unspoken fear lay in her eyes, crushed down by a
conscious effort of the will. She paused in the


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 7
kitchen for a moment and then went to the back door
of the house and called to the gardener.
Andreas Till, bending over a flower-bed, looked up
with a start as he heard the woman's voice. For in
spite of Mrs. Tonner's effort to control herself, the
words came in a tone of agony.
“What's the matter ? ” cried Till, running up to
the door.
“Mr. Erlach — he hasn't come out of his room
- I don't hear him moving about —"
“Well what is there to be so frightened about in
that?”
“Come — come to his room.”
“ Did you knock?”
“Of course.”
“Well, come on, let's see what the matter is.” In
spite of his bluster the gardener felt the contagion of
Mrs. Tonner's anxiety and he followed her into the
house with a grave face.
They knocked and beat at the doors, shook the
knobs and called loudly, but still there was no sound
from within.
“Maybe — maybe he's gone out," murmured Mrs.
Tonner between pale lips.
“ I've been up since dawn," answered Till. “He's
not gone out since then. Anyway, I opened the lit-
tle gate myself an hour ago and it was bolted then.
He couldn't have bolted it behind him.”
“But — the great gate ---”.
“ The iron bar was in its place — the bar that locks
it from the inside, you know.” As the gardener
spoke he bent to look through the keyhole. He saw
a pale glimmer of light within the darkened bedroom
and the stale odor of heated oil came to his nostrils.
The little night-light by the bedside was still burn-
ing.


8 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
“The key is inside," said Till. “He hasn't left
his room."
The two looked at each other with an anxious ques-
tion in their eyes.
“ I'm going to the factory to get a locksmith to
open these doors. I'll ask them to telephone for the
doctor too." With these words the gardener started
on a quick pace back into the kitchen. Mrs. Ton-
ner followed, panting
“You needn't be so frightened," said Till when he
saw her face in the bright light. “ Old people like
that can have a stroke easy or go off into a fainting
fit.”
“Oh-oh, let us pray that it's only a fainting fit,"
gasped Mrs. Tonner.
The gardener shook his head, surprised at the
agony in her voice. “Why, you're all shook up
you'd better go over to my house — or I'll send
my wife here to you. Hello, who's that?” he ex-
claimed as the bell of the back door jangled over
their heads.
When the gardener had left the room, Mrs. Ton-
ner sank into a chair, and dropping her arms on the
table she buried her face in them, sobbing convul-
sively.
“Oh-thank God - thank God," she gasped be-
tween her sobs. “Both doors are locked from the
inside - no one could get into his room — no one
- it must be only that he is ill.”
When Till and his wife came in a few moments
later they were surprised at this evidence of emotion
on the part of the usually silent, reserved woman.
" Don't take on so,” said the gardener. “We'll
have the doctor here soon. Volkner dropped in to
see if there was any work for him after the storm, so
I sent him over to the brick factory; he's younger
and quicker than I am. He ought to find somebody


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 9
there by this time, and we'll have those doors open in
a jiffy."
Then the three sat down to wait in a silence broken
only by Mrs. Tonner's gasping breath and an occa-
sional murmur of sympathy from little Mrs. Till.
The brick factory was less than half a mile distant
from the Erlach property and in a short time the as-
sistant gardener, Volkner, came running up the garden
path, followed by a locksmith.
The group of frightened servants watched the
operation of opening the door and then peered
anxiously into the dimly lighted room. The shut-
ters were tight closed on both windows, and the light
that fell through the half opened door into the study
beyond made a twilight in which the dying flame of
the little night-lamp Aickered pale.
the littled was emptyurried to the woked arour
The housekeeper hurried to the windows and threw
open the shutters. Then she looked around her.
Leopold Erlach was not in his bedroom.
Till went through into the sitting-room and in a
moment his voice came to the listeners in a note of
surprise and fear. “He's not here either.”
“Not there either?” repeated Mrs. Tonner be-
wildered.
The locksmith, a young man with an intelligent
face, held back Mrs. Till and Volkner in the corri-
dor. “You stay where you are," he said. “There's
something wrong here and you'd better keep out
of it.”
" It's enough to drive one crazy," said Till, mop-
ping his brow.
Mrs. Tonner stood as if dazed and the gardener
had to fairly push her back into the corridor. “ You
go in and look,” he said to the locksmith. “I can't
find him. He's gone."
“ Then I don't see what good my looking can do.


IO THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
Erlach sta queer goust be 100
I've done all I can. I'm willing to give my testi-
mony about the doors to the constable when he
comes.”
“Oh, yes, we must send for the constable — I don't
know what I'm doing — it's all so queer," stammered
Till.“ Volkner, you run to the police station. I'd
better stay here."
Mrs. Till went to the door withi Volkner, while Mrs.
Tonner, Till, and the locksmith remained in the room.
The gardener brought a chair for Mrs. Tonner, who
could hardly hold herself upright. Then they waited
in silence while the shadow of suspense and fear sank
down over the vine-wrapped house.
Chief Constable Kern came himself and heard the
story from the three witnesses. Each had only the
same simple facts to tell — all doors locked from the
inside, iron bars at all the windows, and yet Mr.
Erlach missing.
“It's a queer go,” said Kern, “ some of those bars
at the windows must be looser than they look.”
The constable entered the bedroom, taking the
locksmith with him, while the others, at his command,
remained in the corridor.
The bed had evidently been occupied but looked as
if it had been vacated in haste. This was the only
sign of disorder, however, and the two bunches of
keys as well as Mr. Erlach's watch lay undisturbed on
the little table by the bed. But there were no clothes
to be seen anywhere, the suit and the underwear which
he had had on the day before, even his shoes and
socks, were missing, as well as the night-shirt which
was usually laid ready for him on the bed.
In the sitting room, everything showed in its usual
neatness — for Mr. Erlach was a most orderly old
gentleman and exceedingly tidy about all his belong-
ings. One-half of one of the high windows stood
open, but the iron bars in front of it did not yield


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD II
even to the pressure of two pairs of strong arms.
Nothing larger than a cat could slip between these
bars, so closely were they set into the window frames.
The two men examined every cupboard, closet and
corner in either room, every place in which a living
man, or a dead body might be hidden. There were
no signs of Leopold Erlach anywhere, nor any clue
to the manner in which he might have escaped, or been
carried from his room.
“I don't see how it was done,” said Kern—" he
must have gotten out somehow — he wasn't a
wizard."
“What's the matter here?” exclaimed a cheerful
voice at the door.
“Oh, Doctor," said the constable, “ we don't know
what the matter is —- unless it's a miracle that's hap-
pened.”
“What did you send for me for then?” asked Doc-
tor Bergmann. “Is Mr. Erlach ill?”
“No, sir, he's gone — nobody knows where or
how." Then the constable detailed the case to the
physician, his eyes the while following the movements
of the locksmith who was carefully examining the
fixtures and bars of all four windows.
The room was a corner one and had two windows
each on two of its sides. In the other walls, one
large door led into the bedroom, while another, a
smaller one placed near the corner, opened out into
the main corridor. Between this door and the near-
est window stood a little table. Something on the
table attracted the constable's attention and he walked
over to it, followed by the other two men.
On the table stood a candlestick holding a half
burned light, the wick of which was pressed down
deep into the wax. Spattered drops of grease lay
on the table top and on the leaves of an open book
beside the candlestick. It was a large old-fashioned


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 13
any secret passageway from the room, a passageway
which might have been known to the owner of the
house, or to whoever it was that had carried him
off, his nephew knew nothing about it. He also had
very little to say, likewise from a lack of knowledge,
about the missing man's financial standing. Paul
Erlach was a frank, sincere nature, and had little
in common with his crabbed and eccentric relative.
The fact that he was his uncle's sole heir made their
association doubly difficult to both. The elder man
was of a petty and suspicious nature, and had his
nephew given evidence of any affection or interest
Leopold Erlach would doubtless have thought it an
intentional flattery. Paul felt this and never came
to see his uncle unless by special invitation. He con-
sidered himself as of no more importance than any
other passing stranger in the house that would one
day be his. Therefore he was not in a position to
give any information as to what might or might not
be missing from his uncle's safe.
The police commissioner opened the heavily barred
door, and he and Lieutenant Erlach drew out the vari-
ous drawers of the safe and examined their contents.
The key to the safe had been found in its usual place
on Mr. Erlach's key-ring by his bedside. And within
the safe there was no sign of disturbance or robbery.
Four or five of its deep drawers were filled to the
brim with fresh new gold pieces of high value. In
another compartment were several leather cases con-
taining old-fashioned but costly jewelry. A bitter
smile curved the young officer's lips as he saw all this
wealth which his uncle had so carefully kept from his
knowledge.
Still another compartment of the safe was filled
with documents, securities, bonds and shares, and
family papers. Among these last, quite at the bot-
tom of the pile, was one labeled: “ My will.”
any inforTherefore in the homportance 1 He con


14 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
"I wonder when we'll be able to open that,” mur-
mured one of the police officials.
The money, jewelry and documents were placed in
a suit case, which was closed and sealed in the presence
of the police commissioner and Lieutenant Erlach.
Then after another thorough examination, Mr.
Erlach's two rooms were also officially closed.
Mrs. Tonner informed the police commissioner that
she did not care to remain another night in the house,
with its grewsome mystery. The official told her that
no objections would be made to her departure but
that she must inform him as to her future address.
He gave a sharp glance into her troubled eyes, then
as she left the room, he motioned one of his men to
follow her. He also told Till to delay the woman's
departure until evening, by any means that would not
arouse her suspicion. The gardener promised this,
saying he would inform Mrs. Tonner that it was im-
possible for him to take her trunk to the station until
a late afternoon train.
“I wonder why," thought the gardener to himself.
In the two years of their living in the same establish-
ment, neither Till nor his wife had become really ac-
quainted with Mrs. Tonner. The woman's embittered
reserve was calculated to arouse suspicion, but Till
was a good soul and did not think it necessary to
make any remarks to others about what might in-
terest him.
When she had packed her trunk, Mrs. Tonner went
over to the gardener's house to wait until he should
be ready to accompany her to the railway station.
Mrs. Till bustled about hospitably, preparing the sup-
per. Mrs. Tonner had just drawn her chair up to
the table, when suddenly her face flushed and she
started up, taking a step or two in the direction of the
door.
“ What's the matter? Have you forgotten any-


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 15
thing? Or is it something you wanted to say to the
police ?”
Mrs. Tonner shook her head, controlled herself and
sat down at the table again. She tried to eat but it
was only by a severe effort that she could force her-
self to swallow anything.
"I wonder what's the matter with her ?” thought
Till again. “She's not the scary kind, this thing
shouldn't upset her so. What makes her so excited ?"
But he said nothing to the police, for his good heart
refused to let him add to the troubles of this woman
whose unhappiness and distress were so evident.
When the time for the evening train approached,
they walked to the station in silence, Till pushing the
trunk on a wheelbarrow. When Mrs. Tonner en-
tered the train, a man who had been sauntering up
and down the platform stepped into the compartment
after her. Till recognized him as one of the plain-
clothes men who had come that afternoon from the
police station, while Mrs. Tonner was in the gar-
dener's house. Mrs. Tonner herself did not notice
that she was being followed, so engrossed was she in
the gloomy cloud of her own thoughts.


CHAPTER II
THE MOTHER'S FEAR
A WEEK had passed since the disappearance of
Leopold Erlach, and still the clouds of mystery hung
black over the occurrence in the Green House. The
local authorities seemed powerless to unravel the riddle.
A thorough and careful search had been made of the
premises and the entire vicinity, but Leopold Erlach,
living or dead, was not to be found. Nor was there
any clue as to how he could have disappeared from
the locked room. No arrests were made, as there
was no charge upon which to rest suspicion. The
occurrence was the talk of Inzersdorf and the neigh-
boring towns, and the Viennese papers gave consid-
erable prominence to it as the mystery thickened.
One chill wet evening, a week after Mr. Erlach's
disappearance, Teresa Tonner came hastily down the
stairs and out of the door of a tall tenement house in
a poor quarter of Vienna. She glanced furtively
about her in the hallway and at the door, and seemed
relieved as she saw how empty was the ill-lighted
street. Mrs. Tonner's face was gray and the glance
of her weary reddened eyes wavered as she drew her
shawl closely around her and hurried along in the
shadow of the houses. The woman looked old and
haggard, crushed by some overpowing grief or
anxiety. The distance she had to traverse was short
but it seemed long to her troubled mind.
A block or two further on, she paused before the
door of a cellar coffee room, one of the gathering
16


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 17
places for the market people who came here in the
early morning after bringing their wares from the
country. At most other times of the day the dingy
unattractive little room was empty.
When Mrs. Tonner descended the few steps and
opened the door timidly, she found herself alone in the
low-ceilinged, long, narrow space. A single gas
flame threw a tiny radius of light beyond which was
darkness. The room was empty and Mrs. Tonner
came in so quietly that the people she could hear and
see moving about in the kitchen beyond did not notice
her entrance. She took a seat in the darkest corner,
a place from which she could watch the door. She
sat there waiting. Waiting in impatient anxiety, her
eyes fastened, as if hypnotized, on the spot of bright-
ness made by the metal doorknob. Finally, fifteen or
twenty minutes later, the shining knob turned, and
the door flew open. A young man entered hastily
slamming the door roughly behind him. He was tall,
and broad-shouldered although thin in figure, and
his smooth-shaven face, even in the dim light, showed
signs of dissipation. The furtive glance of his keen
eyes was lacking in the candor and brightness which
should belong to his years.
“ Karl!”
The voice came out of the darkness and he peered
through the gloom until he caught sight of the woman
sitting there.
“Oh, you're there, are you?” he answered angrily.
“Why didn't you creep into a rat-hole and be done
with it?”
“ That is what I would like to do," said Mrs. Ton-
ner bitterly. “Come over here to me."
The young man laughed and replied in a lower tone,
“Not much. I'm not over anxious to sit right under
the gaslight either. And if we stay in that corner
they'll light the lamp right over your head. If we


18 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
go nearer the other light, it will be still dark enough,
and they are not likely to burn extra gas for us two.”
He moved over to another place and Mrs. Tonner
followed him. She sat so that she had the light at
her back and could see his face clearly. It was a
face of good lines, which would have been noticeably
attractive had it not showed all too plainly the marks
of a life of dissipation. The woman's eyes seemed
to drink in its every feature with a look of love that
was like physical agony. In spite of the hollows
drawn by years of sorrow and toil in her own face,
there was enough resemblance between the two to
mark them as mother and son.
“Did you just come too?” he asked.
“No, I've been here some time.”
“And no one saw you yet?” he continued.
When she shook her head in reply he drummed on
the table with a knife, and the door at the end of
the room opened.
“Why, there's someone here," exclaimed an
astonished voice as a young woman peered out from
the kitchen.
Karl Tonner ordered two coffees and when the
woman had returned to the kitchen he addressed his
mother again, in a low but impatient tone. “Did
you bring the money?"
Mrs. Tonner straightened up suddenly, the sadness
in her face giving away to a look of determination
mingled with burning anxiety.
“Why are you going away now? Why do you
have to go so suddenly? What is it that is driving
you away? Just now — now that — " She stopped
and looked at him, her whole troubled soul in her
eyes.
Karl stared at her at first in astonishment, then
his eyes dropped, and he moved his hand mechanic-
ally over the tablecloth,


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 19
“ Answer me," commanded Mrs. Tonner.
The boy raised his head again with a look of de-
fiance. “ I'm going away because I happen to want
to — because I can't find anything to do here — be-
cause I have to go away, if you must know. Any-
thing more you'd like to ask?"
“ Karl! -"
“ Yes, that's my name."
“ Then you have sunk - as low as that?”
“Pretty low — and it's your fault.”
“Mine? - my fault?”
“Whose else? Who's going to help me if not my
own mother?”
“Haven't I helped you many times ?”
“But your affection appears to have a limit. You
said just now _" Karl Tonner broke off his speech
as the woman came out from the kitchen with the
tray. After serving them she started towards the
next gaslight but Karl motioned to her that it would
not be necessary. The woman, who was quite pretty,
smiled in answer to his impudent glance and left them
alone again. Karl put his spoon in his cup, and be-
gan to pick off the skin formed by the hot milk, as
carefully as if he hadn't another thought in the world.
His mother clenched her fists and almost hissed
through her closed teeth.
.“ What's the matter?” said Karl lazily.
“Everything,” she began, in a tone that was low
but pitilessly hard. “Yes, you are right. There is
a limit to my affection. I seem now to be able to
see clearer than a mother usually does. I have always
been able to see your faults, and I see them all the
more clearly now. Try as I may, I can find no ex-
cuse for them. You have not inherited them and I
have done all I could to bring you up properly — to
make an honest man of you. You have never heard
me utter an untruth, you have never seen me idle or


20 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
exacting — and yet you are a liar, you are lazy, seek-
ing only your own pleasure — no matter at what
price. No- don't interrupt me! If you don't want
to drive me to despair, let me talk now. I sit here
like a beggar woman — with my son who is no bet-
ter than a tramp and a vagabond.”
“ Mother!” he hissed.
“It is the truth, my son,” she exclaimed bitterly.
“You, the grandson of a general, the son of a noble
father, you are nothing but a tramp to-day - per-
haps even worse, much worse.”
“Mother! What do you mean? — what is it that
you think me capable of then?” Karl's voice shook
with anger in which there was a note of fear.
“I believe you — now - to be capable of -any-
thing.”
The word was like a knife thrust. And the young
man shuddered as he sat there, his face drawn, his
hands clenched. Suddenly the blood that had rushed
up to the roots of his hair went back again, leaving
his face white. He leaned back in his chair, his
hands dropped helplessly in his lap. The terror in
his face was reflected in that of his mother.
“ Capable of anything," she murmured with pale
lips.
They sat for some few minutes in silence, a silence
that was heavy with an unspoken horror. Finally
the woman regained control of herself.
“I believe you capable of anything,” she said again.
“Of course you know why I am no longer in the
Green House, why I am now living with my former
cook.—” Again she paused. “Now you might
speak and yet you will not,” she continued, her lips
trembling. “I can imagine why you sent that
suspicious looking messenger to ask me to meet you
here. You didn't dare to write me. You supposed
“Of couleve you can control of men horror a silence


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 21
that I would be under suspicion -- that I would be
watched — because I am your mother. Someone may
have seen you the various times that you have visited
me. It was five times in all and the last time - in
that dreadful night -- you came without letting me
know beforehand - you climbed over the wall — and
you went out that way too, because I could not get
the key to the gate.” Her voice dropped more and
more towards the end of her sentence and her
strength would have failed her, but for the firmness
of her will.
Her son did not answer, did not attempt to defend
himself.
“ It is only now that I am forced to believe you
capable of — anything," she began again, her voice
growing harder. “ Now that you tried to make me
the instrument of your greed - of your criminal de-
sires — now that you dared to demand of me that I
should ask Erlach for money — and said that if he
would not give it to me - you would get it from him.
I do not know what it was you intended to do, to
obtain money from a miser like Erlach. I did not
ask you, I turned you from the door. When you
had left me I fainted. I do not know how long I
remained in that condition - and I do not know what
happened during that time. I realize only now that
you are the sort of a man who would force his way
into a strange house to get what he wanted.” She
stopped and sat still, scarcely breathing. Still there
was no answer from her son.
“I must get out into the air — I am ill,” she mur-
mured. She put her hand into the pocket of her
dress and laid a purse on the table. “ Here are five
hundred crowns — you can get away with this. I
have no more — I have helped you too often. In
the purse is a slip with the address of Katie's sister.


22 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
Write to this address when you have found some place
where you are safe. Karl — I am going now —
haven't you a word for me?”
Karl Tonner did not raise his head. He had
neither a look nor a word for the mother who had
sacrificed everything for him — for the mother who,
brought up in a home of luxury, had worked for
years in menial positions to support him in idleness.
She crept slowly to the door and turned back with
a last look at her son, a look of unutterable love and
unutterable sorrow. Then she went out into the wind
and the rain, glad of the unfriendly elements that
gave her strength again. Outside, she lingered for a
few moments hoping Karl would follow her. When
he did not come, she feared to attract attention by
standing there and walked on slowly until she came
to the open door of a church. Here, in a dark cor-
ner, she sank to her knees and breathed out the an-
guish of her soul in a sobbing passionate prayer.
Karl Tonner sat for some time where she had left
him, motionless. Finally he realized that he could
not stay there forever. When he raised his head, his
eyes looked dull and lifeless. He stretched out his
hand to draw the purse to him, and saw through its
red silk meshes that it contained a white slip of paper
as well as the money. He opened the purse hastily
and took out the paper with hands that trembled.
He could not read the few words that were written
there, for his eyes were dim with tears. Finally he
managed to make out the writing.
“ My son:
"My love, my prayers and my forgiveness will follow you
wherever you may go. I am not strong enough to do what I
should do perhaps and to accuse you openly. Save yourself
and let me know when you are in security. But try to save
your soul too, that I may not repent of my great love for you.
“ YOUR MOTHER."


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 23
Karl Tonner sat looking down at the slip for some
time. Finally he put it back in the purse, laid a
piece of money on the table and went out into the
street. He wandered aimlessly about in the rain and
the wind, heedless of the discomfort. His face was
pale and his eyes dimmed with sadness.
Suddenly he realized what he was doing and look-
ing about, found himself outside of the city, on the
edge of an empty lot.- “ Ridiculous! — how fool-
ish of me,” he murmured and turned brusquely. But
in spite of himself his step dragged again and the
same sentence that circled through his brain and had
driven him out into the night, stood clear as if in let-
ters of fire before his inward vision again. He
dropped down on a stone by the wayside and buried
his face in his hands, groaning aloud, "She believes
me capable of anything — and Oh, God! it is true —
it is true!”


CHAPTER III
JOSEPH MULLER TAKES UP THE ERLACH CASE
TEN days after Leopold Erlach's mysterious disap
pearance, Dr. Franz Lehr, commissioner of the Crim-
inal Police in Vienna, sat in his office in earnest
conversation with his good friend Lieutenant Paul
Erlach. The young lieutenant's attractive face looked
worn and strained. After the usual first phrases Dr.
Lehr asked the question that had been on his mind
since his friend entered the room.
“You're not looking a bit well, Paul. Has your
uncle's disappearance anything to do with it?”.
“I don't mind your asking that," replied Lieuten-
ant Erlach with a bitter smile. “But I'm afraid there
are a number of people thinking that same question
without asking it. Here, read this letter - the
second of the kind that I have received. This is what
brings me to see you this morning, not only a desire to
chat with you."
“Well, I wondered,” laughed Lehr. “But you
really look as if this affair meant a lot to you. Now
don't get angry -I mean it looks as if you were
really greatly interested — and yet I understood that
there was no particular love lost between yourself and
your uncle.”
“Quite right.”
“ Then what's the matter now?”
“These letters ?”
“ Anonymous letters ?”
“Naturally. Letters like this are not usually
signed.”
2A


26 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
piness that was tinged with melancholy. “I shan't
try to describe her. What's the good? What's the
good even of thinking of her, it only saddens me.”
“What's the trouble?”
“We can't either of us raise the money demanded
by the law - her father - he's retired now, was my
superior officer — went bond for a friend and got
caught - what's the use of talking about it. But to
this matter? How can I drag Nellie into this? How
can she help us ? "
“ She can help us very much. I am taking for
granted that this letter was written by a rival in love.
What were the contents of the other letter you speak
of?”
“ Just about the same as this."
“Umph! the writer has very little imagination, and
few ideas."
“It's postmarked Linz," said Erlach.
The Commissioner laughed. “That shows how
little you know about those things. A letter can be
sent from anywhere through a third party. Under
the circumstances — the fact that you are not yet en-
gaged I mean, the writer's knowledge of your interest
in Miss Nellie — and hers in you, shows that he must
be someone who is also interested in the young lady.
She must know who her various admirers are -- a
woman always does. You ask her about it, it is the
only way. Mercy, what's the matter! Why that
deep sigh! Are you really so badly in debt?” The
Commissioner bent over to look his friend in the
eyes, a sincere sympathy in his own glance.
The lieutenant shook his head. “That's a lie about
the card debts,” he said sadly. “I got out of that by
going more deeply in debt to a money-lender. It's a
burden of course, but at least it's not a debt of honor.
But how am I going to face Nellie and her father
with a letter like this casting doubt on my honor?”


28 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
which lessens still more the number of those upon
whom suspicion could fall. And here, here's another
thing. You see this · Prost Mahlzeit ’? We use that
very little in Austria. It's a north German expres-
sion altogether. Do you remember any of your
friends in the habit of using it?"
Paul Erlach pondered a moment. "No," he said
then, “I don't know of anyone. But there was some-
thing else I wanted to say to you. It concerns my
uncle's disappearance.”
"About which you probably know less than we do
here. The local authorities haven't asked for any
assistance in the matter as yet, but the case interests
me and I have been following the developments
closely. But I don't see just how I am going to help
you there."
“ You can help me by recommending a capable de-
tective. I want a man — if there are such — who
would take up the case not merely as a matter of pro-
fessional duty but because it interests him. I've heard
that there are such people.”
“Yes, there are," said the Commissioner.
“ But I suppose their services are very expensive!”
“Everything that's really good costs money.
The men such as you describe are the rare talents that
are sought for everywhere. Hold on, I know the
man you want!”
“ A capable man?”
“Capable? He's the best detective I ever knew
or heard of.”
“What's his name?"
“His name is very unimportant. He has a hun-
dred names and a hundred different disguises, and in
every one of them he has done marvellous things.
But the name he was born to is Joseph Muller.”
“A very ordinary sounding name.”
“It suits the man's ordinarily quiet appearance.


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 29
He left the official force some time ago, but he is still
busy as a private detective."
“I don't suppose I could afford it,” said Erlach,
sadly. “Anyway I should have to suggest to him a
rather peculiar method of payment.”
“What do you mean?” asked Lehr.
Erlach flushed hotly and looked embarrassed. “I
- you never thought of me as avaricious, did you?”
Lehr laughed." The last person in the world —
what's the trouble?”
“ And yet I can't seem to think of anything else
these days except uncle's money, and the fact that I am
his heir and that he has never had any reason to disin-
herit me and that he has never hinted at any other dis-
posal of his fortune. Now if he were dead — if we
knew he were dead - but you see we don't know, we
only know that he's disappeared — and that we haven't
found him and we may never find him — and if
we don't, then thirty years have to pass before the
state will hand the money out to me. Thirty years!
- I'll be sixty-four then if I'm alive at all. I keep
thinking of this all the time and — and I despise my-
self for doing so.”
“ There's no reason why you should,” said the Com-
missioner. “It's perfectly natural of you to feel that
way - anyone would in your position. I quite under-
stand that it is a matter of the greatest importance
for you to discover proofs of your uncle's death —
if he is dead. And I think I know now what you
mean by the peculiar method of payment. You mean
you want a detective who will undertake the case on
his own risk, because if he discovers proofs of Leo-
pold Erlach's death you will then be in a position to
pay him well. Am I not right?”
“ Perfectly," said the Lieutenant with a faint smile.
“ And I'd much rather you'd say it than I.”
“You're ridiculously sensitive,” continued the Com-


30 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
missioner, pressing a button on his desk. When the
attendant entered Lehr said: “ Call up No. 1234 and
ask the gentleman if he can come here to my office.”
“You must telephone Muller pretty often if you
know his number so well,” said Paul Erlach.
The Commissioner laughed and wrote out the num-
bers 1 2 3 4 on a slip of paper. “It's easy you see,”
he said, then turned to the attendant who re-entered.
“Mr. Muller will be here in twenty minutes," said
the man.
Lehr nodded and turned to Erlach. “ Can you
wait?”
“I'll run across to the café to say a word to a friend
who is waiting for me there, and I'll come right back.”
“You'll find Muller a most original person. But
you mastn't judge of other detectives from him.
He's what you might call a white crow, a very remark-
able man in every way. He is one of the really wise
people in this world, those who understand everything
and can forgive everything. He is almost a rich man
now and has a very comfortable little home. I visit
him occasionally and it is always a most enjoyable
evening. The woman who has kept house for him
for many years is a former thief who has served a
term in prison. His coachman and his gardener are
also released convicts. They'd go through fire for
him.”
“He certainly must be an unusual man.”
“He is indeed, a man of remarkable capability.
We'll not find another like him on the official force.
We hated to have him go. But he has one serious
fault.”
“ That's interesting, what is it?"
“ His heart runs away with him.”
“Why, what do you mean?”
“I mean that when he has discovered the criminal
solved the problem that no one else could solve,
everythinfortable little most enjoy him


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 31
tical too, font family one of thomands and plad money
then he's so sorry for this criminal that he helps him
to escape.'
“Why that's delicious — really it's great!”
“It does sound attractive. And after all it's prac-
tical too, for there are several times when he has saved
the innocent family of a criminal from shame and
disgrace. Because some of those he warned have
taken the matter into their own hands and played the
executioner themselves, thereby saving time and money
for the state as well.”
"I certainly am curious to meet such a man," said
Erlach. “ I'll run down now and be right back.”
As he stormed up the stairs on his return Lieuten-
ant Erlach almost ran down a man slowly and quietly
going the same way. “I beg your pardon,” he ex-
claimed hastily without turning and disappeared into
the Commissioner's room.
“Isn't he here yet?” he asked.
“He's too punctual to be here yet. There is still
fifteen seconds' time. There he is at the door. As I
told you, he is very punctual.”
The door opened and on the threshold stood the
middle-aged gentleman whom the lieutenant had col-
lided with on the stairs.
“Good morning, Commissioner," he said in a gen-
tle pleasant voice.
Dr. Lehr greeted Muller cordially and introduced
the two men. The detective placed his hat carefully
on the table and settled himself comfortably in the
chair which Lehr had placed for him. Then he said:
“Well, gentlemen, I am ready. What can I do for
you?”
The impressionable lieutenant felt a wave of sym-
pathy and confidence fill his heart at the calm steady
glance of the older man's quiet gray eyes. In spite
of the simplicity of Muller's bearing, there was an
authority about it that seemed to invite reliance on


32 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
his capabilities. The young officer began at once:
“First of all, Mr. Muller, I must explain to you that
I am a poor man, and not in a position "
“ To pay for detective work?” Muller finished the
sentence calmly. “Suppose we talk about the case,
sir, and leave the unimportant details until later."
“But it isn't unimportant for me — this matter of
putting myself under obligation to anyone,” continued
the young officer gravely. “Before I dare take ad-
vantage of your valuable services I wish to have it
clearly stated that it is only possible for me to pay for
them when, and if, my uncle's death is proven. If he
is not dead it will be only possible for me to pay you
slowly in installments, after I have worked off other
debts, previously contracted. I feel that I must ex-
plain this first before taking up any more of your
time." Erlach leaned back in his chair with a deep
breath.
Muller smiled pleasantly. “ Well, now you have
explained it, Lieutenant, and I understand perfectly.
Now let's talk about the important matters. What
opinion have you formed about your uncle's disap-
pearance?”
“ Then you've been following the case in the papers ?
And haven't come to any conclusion yourself yet?”
The detective shrugged his shoulders. “Neither have
I,” continued Erlach eagerly. “Although of course
it is easier for me to overlook this case than it would
be for you, as you know neither the person or the
neighborhood in question.”
A scarcely perceptible smile hovered on Muller's
lips, a smile noticed only by the Police Commissioner
whose eyes gleamed in response. Doctor Lehr took
out his cigar case. “ This looks to me as if it were
going to be a lengthy conference," he said, “ suppose
we have a cigar."
“My uncle was a bachelor," continued Erlach.


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 33
“ The newspapers mentioned this point also. But
what they did not mention was the fact that no woman
has ever been concerned in his life at all. I am tell-
ing you this now, that you may not waste time in the
usual search for the woman in the case.'” Muller
bowed lightly and the young officer kept on with his
report. “My uncle had no vices and very few secrets
in his life. He was sixty-five years old when his
mysterious disappearance occurred, and his life had
been so absolutely commonplace that this happening
is quite incomprehensible. As to his servants — the
gardener Till and his wife, and his housekeeper, Mrs.
Tonner, were the only ones there at the moment.
The Tills had been with him for fourteen years. Mrs.
Tonner had been in uncle's service only two years
but she had proved herself faithful and willing, and
had given many evidences of the fact that she was
not in the least greedy for money."
“May I ask how you know all this about the serv-
ants?" put in Muller. “I understand that you were
not on any terms of intimacy with your uncle."
Erlach sighed deeply. “It wasn't easy to get on
with him," he answered. “He was distrustful and
believed no good of anybody. If I showed friendliness
or affection for him he would have taken it for toady-
ism, and yet he was continually accusing me of in-
gratitude and coldness of heart because I did not
bother myself more about him. I don't see exactly
how I could have done it. I've had very little time
to myself since I have been here in Vienna, and I was
stationed in Linz before that. My visits to Inzers-
dorf were necessarily few and far between. I can't
say that I was anxious to make them any more fre-
quent for they gave me no particular pleasure. But,
when I did go there uncle's servants were his main
topic of conversation. He was no great reader, cared
little for art in any form and knew nothing of politics.


34 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
All that occupied his mind were the petty affairs of
his garden and his household. There was very little
he could talk about, but he could talk about his serve
ants rather interestingly. His mental horizon was
narrow but within these limits he was a keen observer.
He could talk well about his garden and his experi-
ments with his flowers and he knew the composition
and the quality of almost any dish he had eaten which
had particularly pleased him. As these things were
about all he talked about when I did visit him, I
couldn't help remembering some one or other of his
remarks. This is how I came to know that my uncle
was perfectly satisfied with the Tills and with his
housekeeper.”
“ With his housekeeper too?" inquired Muller.
Erlach was surprised at what appeared to be a par-
ticular interest on Muller's part in this woman. Like
the gardener Till, the young officer had noticed Mrs.
Tonner's look of anxiety and trouble. He had al-
ways respected her quiet reserve and faithfulness to
duty, and like Till also, he did not wish, through any-
thing he might say, to bring more worry and trouble
to this woman. He cut in hastily now:
“Yes, my uncle was particularly pleased with Mrs.
Tonner. She was quite alone in the world, which
was a quality that uncle liked in a servant, and she
was an excellent worker although she was very evi-
dently a woman of refinement and intelligence above
her station. She was the most economical house-
keeper uncle had ever had and when he was sick she
took the best of care of him. He told me several times
that he had never been so comfortable. It does not
seem to me in the least possible or necessary to con-
nect this woman in any way with my uncle's disap-
pearance — although I know that the local authorities
have considered it a possibility."


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 35
“One must not neglect any possibility in a case like
this."
“ Perhaps even the possibility that I might have
something to do with it?" exclaimed the lieutenant
in a tone of irritation.
“Even that possibility must be taken into consid-
eration."
“ Sir!”
“We are merely talking of all the possibilities which
might be concerned in this still unexplained case,"
replied Muller quietly. “You have told me much
of importance, Lieutenant. But even you have not
been able to shed any light upon the most incompre-
hensible part of this mystery."
“ You mean the locking of the doors on the inside ?"
“ Yes. And then when one considers the way the
house is built -".
“What do you know about the way the house is
built ?” interrupted Erlach, in surprise which was in-
creased by the detective's answer.
“I obtained a plan of the house a few days ago.
For when four or five days had passed and nothing had
been discovered in this case, the matter began to in-
terest me.”
The lieutenant gave an exclamation of astonish-
ment, and the Police Commissioner smiled as he said
to himself" that was a real Muller-trick.”
The detective turned to him now. “You'll be inter-
ested to see the scene of the mystery, Dr. Lehr," he
said. “I have the plan in my pocket here. Let's
have a look at it.”
The Commissioner laid down his cigar and bent
over the paper. The young officer sat still in surprise
at this man who had already taken up an investigation
of the case, even before he was engaged for it.
“ It's exceedingly interesting," said the Commis-


36 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
sioner. “ The walls are nine or ten feet high, both
garden gates bolted on the inside, both the old gentle-
man's rooms locked on the inside and yet he has dis-
appeared. Really, it is quite incomprehensible."
Muller pointed to a particular spot on the plan:
“Right here, at that spot of the brick wall which lies
opposite the gardener's house and the stable, some-
body has climbed either in or out recently."
“How do you know that?” exclaimed Erlach.
“I have been examining that spot.”
“ You were there?"
The detective smiled at this unnecessary question:
“ It must have been a young man, or if not young,
still very active.”
“Who told you that?"
Muller smiled again, this time quite broadly. “I
told it to myself,” he answered calmly. “ I'm no
longer young but I'm still quite active and I climbed
over the same place myself.”
“ You were in the garden too?”
“ Yes, I was there for four hours. Quite time
enough to get wet to my skin, for it was raining hard.
But I was rather glad of the rain, because it gave me
the assurance that there would be nobody else prowl-
ing around in the deserted estate. No one saw me
go out either, for I did not leave until it was quite
dark.”
“Did you go into the house too?”.
Muller shook his head. “No, I couldn't get into
the house. The keys were at the county station,-
and the locks were complicated ones.” The detective
halted with a laugh, and the Commissioner, laughing
also, completed the sentence. “So you couldn't open
the doors with your own instruments.”
“ Exactly. But I didn't even try to get into the
house nor into any of the other buildings, which would
d with a laugh complicated ones.county station, --


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 37
have been easier. For it was really no affair of
mine.”
“But you did climb over the wall,” said Erlach.
“ Exactly. I thought I might take that much in-
terest in the matter. And I didn't even do that until
I was quite convinced that someone else had done the
same thing a short time before.”
“ You are quite sure of that? And did you dis-
cover anything more?”.
“No, nothing more, there was no one anywhere
about the place.”
A clock in the next room struck eleven. Muller
rose.“ Have you anything else to say to me, sir? I
must be in my own home again by five o'clock."
“No,” said Erlach, “only please leave me your
address. I am supposing that you have already un-
dertaken the case. And we really must talk about the
payment —”
“ Some other time,” interrupted Muller. “Really
and truly that is only a side issue. Or if you insist,
it's easy enough settled. If it's not possible to dis-
cover your uncle's whereabouts or the fact of his
death, then I'll look upon the whole thing as simply
an interesting experiment. If you do come in posses-
sion of his fortune, you can pay me whatever you
like. The Commissioner is witness to this agreement."
“ But I can't accept any such arrangement,” per-
sisted Erlach.
“Oh, yes you can,” said Dr. Lehr. “ You see,
you don't happen to know that our friend Muller has
a perfect passion for interesting cases. Also that he
is very well off.”
“ And also that I do not accept this interesting case
under any other conditions," said Muller firmly.
Erlach struggled with himself for a moment, then
took Muller's outstretched hand.


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 39
no great talker, particularly not in the beginning of
a case, and the young officer had not yet recovered
from his bewilderment at finding the investigations,
which he had thought to start, already in full swing.
It lacked still some minutes of one o'clock when the
carriage stopped at the Court House in Liesing, but
it was nearly half an hour before Muller could come
into possession of the keys. Then he drove the lieu-
tenant to the railway station and returned to his car-
riage.
“Now, Heberlein," he said to his coachman, “ drive
me to the place where you waited for me three days
ago." Again the carriage rolled along the highroads
to Inzersdorf, past meadow land and ploughed fields,
then again along a stretch of dreary waste land which
was known as the Black Moor. They turned off at
a little dip in the road, down a grass grown lane to
a spot that was hidden from the main street by a
heavy high willow thicket. Muller dismounted here
and set out across the open land, above which floated
a heavy mist. Several paths, some of them almost
roads, led across this dreary stretch of country. Mul-
ler already knew the various directions of these roads,
he knew also that two stately gardens, protected by
their high walls, broke the monotony of this damp
expanse of moorland. There were a few little
streamlets flowing across it, hardly worthy the name
and yet wide enough to need a bridge. Muller
crossed one of these bridges now,- it was scarcely
more than a plank,— and took the path to the left.
About a hundred paces further he found himself in
an avenue framed on either side by tall old beech
trees. The avenue was not long and ended at a high
green-painted iron gate in a brick wall. This was
one of the entrances to the Erlach property.
During his walk over the moor Muller had been
looking around him cautiously and was satisfied that


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 41
night had very lite cu some reason commis
time to take the muffler from the drawer in which she
had thrust it. Nor had she had time to put the
muffler in the drawer, for she had taken only a few
most necessary things with her.
Now this muffler must have been put into the
drawer on the morning of the roth of September
before the arrival of the police commissioner, and
there must have been some reason for the woman's
desire to hide it.
It had very likely been left in her room during the
night of the 9th to the roth of September. For Mul-
ler had discovered another proof that at some time
during that night Mrs. Tonner had had a visitor in
the kitchen. A tea service for two people, with re-
mains of a light repast, was thrust in a heap on a
corner of the kitchen table. The dishes used were
the heavier kitchenware, quite different from the fine
porcelain kept for Mr. Erlach. It was clear that
Mrs. Tonner had had a visitor at some time in the
evening after the hour when she had served her
master's supper, for all the dishes used for this meal
were clean and in their accustomed places.
Muller was almost certain that he knew who it was
that had visited Mrs. Tonner on that critical evening.
And yet as he walked back over the Black Moor he
felt that he knew little more about the mystery than
he did before. But Muller had learned to be patient.
He reached his own home a few minutes before
five o'clock. It was a comfortable little old-fashioned
house set in a garden, with hedge and wall protecting
it from passers on the main street of the suburb.
“Has the new cook arrived ? ” asked Muller of the
young man who opened the door for him. “And has
Mrs. Grützner left?”
“Yes, sir," said the young man, taking Muller's
hat.
“ Send the woman up to me at once," said the


42 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
detective, mounting the half flight to his sitting room.
He stood at the window looking aimlessly out into
the garden. The gleam in his eyes showed satisfac-
tion with just a hint of curiosity. There was a knock
on the door and as he answered it the old 'detective
turned slowly round.
A tall gaunt woman stood on the threshold, a
woman whose face might at one time have been beau-
tiful. But the lines of it were faded and worn now
and the great dark eyes were full of sorrow. Muller
came a few steps to meet her.
“Welcome to my house, Mrs. Tonner," he said
cordially. “I hope that we will get along well to-
gether. Two such quiet elderly people as we are,
certainly ought to be able to make life easier for each
other.”
He held out his hand to her, and as she took it
two great tears rolled down her cheeks.


CHAPTER IV
MULLER'S NEW HOUSEKEEPER
It was on September 20th that Mrs. Tonner entered
Joseph Muller's service, ten days after the disappear-
ance of Leopold Erlach and the third day after her
ance of Leoping with her sonier's own
No mere chance, but Muller's own determination
had brought the woman to his house. From the
moment that the Erlach case began to interest him,
he had been making inquiries about the servants in
the establishment. There was nothing whatever to
be found out about the Tills. They were ordinary
commonplace faithful people. But Mrs. Tonner
proved more interesting. Muller's experience had
taught him that widows who are serving in a menial
position, although noticeably above their station, were
apt to have a past that might prove worth inves-
tigating. He looked up Mrs. Tonner's record in
the Inzersdorf police station, found the date of her
arrival there and also the statement that she had been
born in Innsbruck in the Tyrol and was now forty-
eight years old. He traced up her former terms of
service without difficulty until about fifteen or sixteen
years back. In his search Muller found that there
were several other people in Vienna who bore the
name of Tonner. Only one of these people interested
him. This was a man by the name of Karl Tonner,
who was twenty-seven years old and who was also
recorded as having been born in Innsbruck. This
young man had wandered about the country a good


44 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
convinced tha youth, Mullecial records of yau
deal, according to the record, and had had various
professions. He had been assistant to a photog-
rapher, he had been a chorus singer in one of the
smaller theatres, and he had also been in vaudeville.
As he followed up the official records of the life of
this versatile youth, Muller became more and more
convinced that Karl Tonner was Teresa Tonner's
son.
Muller knew also the address to which Mrs. Ton-
ner had gone when she left the Green House, further-
more he knew that she had advertised for a position.
He let his own faithful housekeeper answer the ad-
vertisement and engage Mrs. Tonner for her master.
Mrs. Tonner saw no reason to doubt the other
woman's story that she was obliged to leave her posi-
tion, possibly for several months, to take care of an
invalid sister.
All this Muller had done on his own responsibility.
Therefore he was greatly pleased when he was offici-
ally engaged for the Erlach case. He had also
learned several things of importance from the young
lieutenant. When the latter asserted what his uncle
must have told him, that Mrs. Tonner was quite alone
in the world, Muller who knew better, wondered why
the woman had lied.
When she entered his household he apparently
troubled himself very little about her after the first
greeting. But in reality he himself, as well as his
servant Conrad, and his coachman, both of whom
were in his confidence, were watching the woman's
every movement. Everything that was needed for
the household had been bought for the next two or
three days, and it was Conrad's duty to post all let-
ters, and to receive those left at the door. There-
fore, there was no way in which Mrs. Tonner could
communicate with the outside world unnoticed. But
the woman herself was quite satisfied with this ar-


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 45
rangement. The less she had to go out the better
she liked it, and she knew her son to be in safety.
For before she had left Mrs. Menger, the woman in
whose home she had been living, the latter's sister had
already received a letter from Karl to be forwarded
to his mother.
Mrs. Tonner could not bear to destroy the few
lines written by her only child. She put them in her
trunk. She thought that now, in the house of this
pleasant old man, about whom she knew nothing
further than that he was living quietly on his income,
she would be safe from all intrusion. On her first
entrance into the house some of the strain of her
nerves seemed to relax and she felt that if it were
possible for her ever to be happy again she might be
happy here.
The day following her arrival Muller sent for Mrs.
Tonner and asked her if she would mind going out.
He had to send Conrad on an errand and he dis-
covered that Mrs. Grützner had forgotten to order
some articles from the delicatessen store, of which he
was particularly fond. He would give her a list and
Conrad would drive her in Muller's own carriage.
As he handed her the list and the money, he looked at
her sharply, and asked:
“ Are you ill, Mrs. Tonner? You don't look a bit
well to-day. Perhaps I had better not send you out,
it's so raw and cold. If you don't want to go don't
be afraid to say so.”
“Oh, no, sir, indeed I am not ill. And I'm not
afraid of the weather. But it's no wonder I look sick
after what I've been through with.”
“ Indeed! what was it?"
“Haven't you heard of the occurrence in Inzers-
dorf, sir ? "
“No, I don't seem to remember. What was it?”
“A rich old man disappeared mysteriously."


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 47
have presa Menger a in the wor naturally
he was, he felt that Mrs. Tonner was hiding some-
thing from him. Something that might not have been
actual knowledge but was at least a supposition.
When she had finished her story she rose from her
chair with the words: “So you can imagine, sir, that
I did not want to stay in that house another night.”
“I can indeed. It is quite natural that you should
have preferred to go back to your own family."
“Mrs. Menger is no relation of mine."
“ Are you alone in the world then?”
The question came quite naturally from Muller's
lips. The woman hesitated a second or two too long,
then she said: “I have a son.”
“ Indeed, and he is not with you here?”
“No, I do not know where he is. I have had no
news from him for some time. He is at sea — he is
a sailor.”
The words came very slowly, heavily. Muller
could see how hard it was for this woman to lie. He
felt sorry for her.
“That was very interesting. The carriage will be
ready at three o'clock."
Mrs. Tonner bowed, took up the coffee cups and
left the room. The detective looked after her, his
face very grave.” “Why did she lie to me? Any-
body could see she was lying."
Muller's face was very sad, for the woman had al-
ready aroused his full sympathy.
Conrad and the new housekeeper drove off at three
o'clock, and Muller went down stairs into Mrs. Ton-
ner's room. He was now entirely alone in the house
and the little room looked out only on the garden.
He drew the curtains and lit his tiny lantern, for it
was a gloomy day and already almost dark. Then
the detective started in on the examination of the be-
longings of his new housekeeper.


48 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
simple A larulier openandse
There was little to be found in the cupboard and
closet of the room. A few pieces of clothing only,
neat and clean but much mended, lay packed away in
the drawers. Muller wondered why this woman, who
had been through many years of service in well-paid
positions, should be so poor, should have so little
money to spend on herself. She must have had some
use for her salary which deprived her of any ad-
vantage from it.
Then Muller turned to the trunk. The lock was
simple and he could open it easily. It was only half
full. A large package done up in white paper lay
on top.. Muller opened the package and found himself
looking down at a handsome white satin gown cut in
a style of several decades back, the costly stuff already
yellowing from disuse. A white veil lay with the
gown in the package, and a faded myrtle wreath.
Muller's eyes grew dim with sympathy as he care-
fully rewrapped the package. Below it in the trunk,
were three smaller boxes. In the first he found a
pair of baby shoes, worn and faded. Also a folded
school composition book of the primary grade, on
which stood in a stiff childish hand the name, “ Karl
Tonner.” In the second box was the uniform cap of
a General of Infantry, and a death certificate written
by an Innsbruck priest to the effect that General Anton
Mautner, Chevalier von Rauch, had died on the 26th
of July, 1879. In the third box, which Muller opened
after carefully closing the other two, were photo-
graphs, bundles of letters and family papers. He sat
down to the examination of this box and it took him
more than an hour. When he got through he knew
the history of Mrs. Tonner's life. He knew that she
had been brought up in luxury, in a high social posi-
tion, that she was the daughter of a General, and wife
of a man of means, but that death and reverses had
left her alone in the world to bring up her son by


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 49
her own efforts. There were several photographs of
this boy at various stages of his childhood and youth.
The latest one, taken possibly a year or two ago, in-
terested Muller most. It was a costume portrait of
a very good-looking young man in Greek dress, with
the exaggerated hair and jewelry of a comic opera
part. Written on the back of this picture were Karl
Tonner's own remarks as to his success in the part.
Also there was a letter written somewhat later, in
which he said that he was tired of the photographic
business and wanted to return to the stage, for which
he felt he was well fitted. In the few letters that
were there Muller could see what Mrs. Tonner must
have suffered from the vagaries of her son, whose
idle, pleasure-loving, and unscrupulous character lay
clear before the reader. The last letter that the de-
tective found was hastily written with pencil on a
torn slip and thrust into an envelope which was not
addressed. The word “ Tonner” was written on it
in pencil. The letter read as follows:
“I was a fool to suggest what I did to you on
that dreadful night. If you could only have helped
me in time I would not now be in hiding. I thank
you from my heart for what you have now done for
me. The money will help me to get away. I thank
you deeply for your letter. You can be easy about
me. I will tell you more when I feel that it will be
safe for me to see you again.
K."
Muller read these lines carefully several times, his
face very grave. Then he copied them in his note-
book, murmuring half aloud: “ On that dreadful
night.”
He closed the trunk and left the room. His heart
was full of pity at the thought of what this woman
must have suffered in the varied experiences of her
life. Then his mind came back to the business of
the moment, to this woman's possible connection with


50 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
the mysterious occurrence in Inzersdorf. Was the
“ dreadful night” of which Karl Tonner wrote, the
night of the 9th of September? This much stood
clear: Karl Tonner was in hiding, had fled from the
city; his mother had not been able to help him in
time but later she had given him considerable money.
And mixed up in this somehow was what the careless
lad himself spoke of as “the dreadful night.”


52 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
Muller's sitting room he sent down word for her to
come up again, as he had something to say to her.
She ascended the stairs mechanically and found Mul-
ler seated at his desk in the cozy room. He held a
newspaper in his hand and there were several more
heaped up on the side of the desk. The lamp was
already lit, although there was still some daylight out-
side.
“You sent for me, sir?" said Mrs. Tonner, walk-
ing slowly over to the desk. Muller raised his head
to greet her and his left hand fell carelessly on an
open newspaper that lay near the edge of the desk.
The paper fell to the ground.
Mrs. Tonner moved to bend down for it, her hand
outstretched. Then she stopped as if suddenly turned
to stone and her left hand slowly extended itself with
a gesture of hiding something from her own gaze.
Her eyes widened as they rested on the top of the
desk and her face was ghastly pale. She gave one
deep gasping breath, then fell forward unconscious in
the arms of the man who sprang up to catch her.
“I didn't expect it would have that effect," mur-
mured Muller, as he rubbed her temples with water
and then started for the next room in search of some-
thing stronger. But before he reached the threshold
he heard a deep sigh behind him.
He turned back to the sofa. Mrs. Tonner was con-
scious again but she lay there motionless, her wide-
open eyes full of the same horror as before.
“Where am I? Who are you — who are you?”
The words came low from between her trembling lips.
Her eyes never left the edge of the desk, on which
lay a bright-colored silk muffler.
The master of the house drew a chair up to the
sofa and sat down upon it.
“My name is Joseph Muller, as you know," he said.
“And it's also the truth that I am living retired, on


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 53
my income. We did not lie to you in that respect.
But if we had told you that I am a detective, you
probably would not have entered my service. Is this
not so, Mrs. Tonner? No, don't move, and now
drink this water," Muller continued in a more friendly
tone, as he laid his hand gently on hers. “Don't try
to hold back your tears. They may relieve you.
Then we can talk about your son Karl.”
He rose from his chair and went to the desk to lock
the muffler in one of its drawers. Mrs. Tonner
leaned her head on the arm of the sofa and wept bit-
terly. Muller's soft heart was torn with pity for the
unhappy woman. He retreated to the depths of the
window niche and waited there until the first spasm of
her sorrow and fright had passed.
A sudden noise behind him made him turn. Mrs.
Tonner had risen from the sofa so hastily that the
glass on the silver tray on the little table in front of
her jarred loudly.
“Well? ” said Muller, turning his serious eyes full
on the excited woman. She stood erect, her hands
clinched, her eyes flaming, and hissed between her
gasping sobs: “Oh, it's cruel — it's horribly cruel
to force a mother to betray her own child in this
way!”
* Then you have something to betray?” The
words came quietly and slowly.
The woman staggered and grew even more pale.
Her mind seemed frozen, she could not master her
thoughts. She grew dizzy and caught at the arm
of the sofa to support herself. In the haze in her
brain she felt Muller's hand on her arm and heard his
calm and gentle voice saying: “I am not your enemy,
Mrs. Tonner. I am nobody's enemy — and if I ever
can help anyone who is in trouble, I always do it.
I have such deep sympathy for the fear, the shame,
the despair of the captured criminal, that I am often


54 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
obliged to help him to relieve the pressure of my own
feelings. Therefore, you need not be afraid of me.
And it will be better for yourself as well as for your
son if you tell me the truth.”
While speaking he had pressed Mrs. Tonner gently
down on to the sofa again. She looked at him, still
with the hanging horror in her eyes, and breathed low:
“I—I don't know the truth.”
“You do not?”
"I do not know what happened in that dreadful
night. I know nothing about it.”
Muller's voice was cooler as he asked quickly, at a
random shot: “You do not even know that your son
climbed the wall to come to you that evening?”
Mrs. Tonner pressed her lips tight together and her
eyes dropped. Finally she said: “Yes, I know that
one thing. But that does not prove anything.” She
spoke with a pause between each word, as if fighting
for strength.
“One thing it proves," replied Muller, “and that
is that your Karl came to you secretly on the very
night of the mysterious occurrence in the Green
House.”
“Why shouldn't a son visit his mother?” stam-
mered the terrified woman.
“A son doesn't usually climb walls to get to his
mother," replied the detective. “Although this is an
unusual case and therefore --”
“Oh, my God! if I could only do something to ex-
plain it,” cut in Mrs. Tonner.
“You fixed some supper for your son," continued
Muller.
“Yes, I did. He was cold and hungry. I gave
him an old woolen vest that Mr. Erlach had done with.
That was why he forgot his muffler.” Mrs. Tonner's
voice was firmer now and just a little defiant.
“ Those are unimportant details,” said Muller with


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 55
a smile. “The main point is, why did he come to
you in such secrecy that night? The cold supper and
the old vest you gave him would hardly be the reason
for his climbing the wall. He wanted something
more, Mrs. Tonner. You surely must know that
sooner or later we will find out why your son came
to you that evening — it will be much better for you
to tell me now, yourself.”
“But suppose I will not tell you,” murmured the
unhappy woman.
Muller bent forward and lowered his voice. “ Then
you know what my duty demands, if you will not
speak?"
“What -- what is your duty ?” she asked shiv-
ering
" It is my duty to tell the authorities that your son
was in the Erlach house that night and that you know
of it.”
“Well then? What will happen then?"
“You will be arrested at once."
“Why?”
“ You ask?”
Mrs. Tonner covered her face with her hands and
sat for a few moments in silence. Finally she spoke:
“If I tell you all that I know, the only thing I know,
must you then go to the authorities ? ”
“No. For then I could take the responsibility
about being silent for a while yet. I will then know
by your own confession that your son was in the
Green House that night and no one else need know it
for a while. And as yet I am the only person who
knows it.”
“ You? You alone know it?” murmured Mrs.
Tonner, slipping to her knees and holding out her
hands, clasped in pleading: “And you will not say
anything? — oh, I know you will not — and you won't
force me to speak? — your heart is so good. You are


56 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
too kind, too noble to force a despairing mother to
give up her only child this way!”
“Then you will not speak?"
“No, no — I can't — I can't.”
“Very well then — I must do without your assist-
ance.”
“Assistance ? Did you really think — did you
really believe --"
“I believed that you would talk to me freely –
I believe that you yourself really do not know what
happened that night, and therefore I cannot think
that you, his mother, would believe the worst of your
son.”
“ But I do not ! ”
“You must, or else you would talk freely with me.
You would do everything you can to clear him from
this suspicion.”
“ But I have cast no suspicion on him.”
“ Yes, you have. You are doing it through your si-
lence. You surely ought to know better than anyone
else what might be expected of your son. You need
not talk if you do not want to. I will follow up your
son and I will find him. For I usually find those I
seek. You can go now if you want to, you can even
leave my house if you desire it, you are not a prisoner
here. But I warn you that as soon as you do go, it
is my duty to tell the authorities, to let them know
that you believe the worst of your son, that you know
where he is, and that you will probably find some
means to help him to a further flight, as you have al-
ready helped him to leave Vienna."
“You — know — that too? ” breathed Mrs. Ton-
ner.
“Yes, I know it. He thanks you for it himself.”
“You know that too?" she repeated dazed.
“ Then you have ——?”
“I opened your trunk. Yes, I did it. It was my


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 57
duty, for I have been officially engaged to investigate
the matter of Mr. Erlach's disappearance."
“ And what did you find out from my trunk?” the
woman queried again, in a tone of bitter contempt.
“Only that you are a woman whose life has seen
terrible reverses and great struggle and sorrow," re-
plied Muller gravely. “ Also that you have the mis-
fortune to be the mother of a good-for-nothing son
who has already caused you great trouble and anxiety.
But I — and that is the difference between us - I
cannot yet believe the very worst of your son.”
“You can't — you can't? You don't believe then
that he —” her eyes softened, the tension in her face
relaxed.
"I did not find any evidence in his letters that he
has passed beyond the stage of mere recklessness and
selfish carelessness to a state of mind that would lead
to — to murder. That does not come easily, even to
a man who has sunk quite low. And I think that your
son can still be saved.”
Mrs. Tonner sobbed aloud. She caught Muller's
hand and pressed a passionate kiss on it.
“Why, what are you doing?” he exclaimed, draw-
ing away his hand.
“Only what any mother would do — any mother
whom a stranger must teach to trust her own son.
Oh, how could I — how could I have ever thought it?”
“I can understand,” said the old detective, gently.
“ You are a serious-minded woman and your son's
life thus far has been a terrible cross to you. When
he came to you in 'that dreadful night,' as he calls it,
he may have come in great need and you could not
help him. He had to help himself somehow, in what
way we do not know, but we know it must have been
a wrong way. Into what it may have led him, what
may have happened with or without his own will and
intention, I do not know. You do not seem to know


60 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
son then. But I was not yet - afraid of him. I
pushed him away and I pointed to the other door, the
door into the garden, and told him to go, ordered him
to leave the house at once. He did so without an-
other word for me. His face was pale and his step
unsteady. When he had gone I rushed to the door to
call him back — that is, I wanted to rush to the door,
but instead I fell in a faint. I do not know how long
I lay there. I awoke to find myself on the kitchen
floor and it was some little while before I could re-
member what had happened. I ran to the back door
and called his name out into the night, but the howl-
ing of the wind drowned my voice. I dragged myself
back into the hall, locked the door and went to bed.
It was long before I could get to sleep, as you might
well imagine. I awoke again at five o'clock. At
eight o'clock I discovered that Mr. Erlach was miss-
ing, and since then I have not known a quiet moment.
Now I have told you all.” The unfortunate woman
fell back again into the sofa corner, her hands clasped
in her lap.
“Take some more of this wine," said Muller.
“ And now tell me something more. You say you do
not know how long your faint lasted? Was there
nothing to give you an idea of the time?”.
“No, nothing. I did not even look at the clock
before I crept into bed.”
“And now tell me something of your last interview
with your son.”
When she had obeyed his behest and somewhat
controlled the stress of her emotion, Muller ordered
his carriage and they drove together to Mrs. Menger's
flat. All they could find out here was that the letter
received by Katie's sister from Karl Tonner had borne
a Hungarian stamp. This seemed to suggest some-
thing to Mrs. Tonner and Muller asked her what it
was.


62 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
the mother. “ Bela von Lankowitz considers him-
self an artist and therefore justified in living a reck-
less life. Karl mentioned recently that he is now en-
gaged at the Pressburg Theatre. His mother lives
there. She too has been a widow for many years."
“I'll go there myself to-day.”
“ But if you don't find him there," said Mrs. Ton-
ner hastily, “ please don't think that it is my fault.
The Hungarian stamp reminded me of Lankowitz.
I know of no other friends of my son's there, nothing
else that would take him into Hungary.”
“I understand that,” said Muller. “I'll take the
responsibility.”
They drove the rest of the way in silence. V
Muller reached Pressburg that evening after mid-
night and went to a hotel at once. He was up again
at seven and walked over to the theatre. The bills for
the performance of the day before were still hanging
on the boards, and an attendant came out to change
them as the detective stood there. “This is the bill
for to-day, sir," said the man. “That's what we
gave yesterday.”
Muller inquired about Mr. von Lankowitz and the
attendant shrugged his shoulders with a smile. “Oh,
he never gets his name on the bill,” he said. “He
sings along with the rest of them in the chorus."
A silver piece pressed into the man's hand brought
forth the necessary information regarding the address
of the young chorus singer. As it was at a consid-
erable distance from the theatre Muller set out in
spite of the early hour. The number he sought was in
a new street of cheap tenements, where the outer wall
of the houses, newly erected as they were, was already
cracking and peeling off. The interior, the halls
and the many stairways, were equally unattractive.


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 63
Finally, after many inquiries, Muller found the apart-
ment he sought.
As he stopped in front of the door he could look
through its little glass peep-hole into an untidy
kitchen, about the walls of which women's garments
were hanging. The whole look of the place, as far
as he could see it, told him that even if the two young
men were alike in character, this mother was very
different from Mrs. Tonner. On the door were two
visiting cards decorated with a crest of arms and a
crown. On the one card stood the name “Henri-
ette Amélie Lankowitz de Zobor et Erdöfalva.” Un-
derneath was written in ink“ Lessons in Dancing and
Deportment.” The other card showed the name of
young Lankowitz.
The writing on the first card gave Muller the excuse
that he needed to enter the apartment, and he pressed
the button at once. He had to wait some time. Fi-
nally he heard steps coming to the door from another
direction and it was opened on a tiny crack. “What
do you want? ” asked a small plump woman, whose
untidy gray head showed in the opening.
“I would like to speak to Mrs. von Lankowitz."
“I am Mrs. von Lankowitz."
Muller excused his early coming by saying that he
was busy the rest of the day, but that he wanted to
speak about dancing lessons for his nieces. This won
the confidence of the woman on the other side of the
door and she asked him to come in. Inside, in an
untidy room, he saw that she was at least sixty, short
and fat. Her face, swollen and puffy, was already
thickly powdered, although her hair had not yet been
combed. She wore a torn and faded dressing gown,
and the whole look of the woman was unattractive in
the extreme. But Muller controlled his first feeling
of repulsion and soon discovered that the poor old


64 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
creature was half crazy and quite harmless in her
foolish vanity. His kindness and gentle flattery won
her heart and she told him all he wanted to know.
Her son had a friend staying with him, she said, a
nervous young man who seemed to be uneasy all the
time, who only came Sunday evening and was now
going away again that very day. At the present mo-
ment the young gentlemen were out on an excursion,
just where the old lady did not know. She did know,
however, that the friend, who had been introduced to
her as Karl Tonner, intended to leave Pressburg by
the six o'clock train.
When Muller had learned all this, he took his fare-
well, promising that Mrs. von Lankowitz should hear
from him the very next day regarding the lessons.
The detective was glad to escape into the pure air out-
side and as he had nothing to do, he spent the rest of
the day in the charming surroundings of the city.
An hour before train time he went to the station,
took his ticket, ordered a compartment reserved for
him and then strolled about, apparently careless but
in reality watching every young man who passed him.
He was quite calm and collected, there was not a sign
of excitement about him.
The experienced detective had by this time made
up his mind that Leopold Erlach had been murdered
and his body hidden somewhere. But since the last
evening he no longer considered Karl Tonner as the
possible criminal. For in his mind a crime such as
he now believed to have been committed, needed care-
ful cold blooded preparation and a nerve and self-
control of which this young vagabond would hardly
be in possession. It would have been quite impossi-
ble for him to have carried out the crime unless his
mother were in league with him. And this, Muller
now knew, was not the case. With his knowledge
of human nature he realized the honesty and upright-
took and then sing every Wouted, ther


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 65
ness of the woman's character. The boy was a good-
for-nothing, he was lazy, he might be a thief possibly,
but he could not be a murderer, not yet at least.
Muller was honest with himself also and he in-
dulged in a quiet laugh at his own expense just now.
Before he took the train for Pressburg the evening
of the day previous, he had known perfectly well that
Karl Tonner had nothing to do with the murder and
yet he devoted twenty-four hours to finding the
young scapegrace and bringing him home to his
mother. And he did it for no other reason than the
fact that he felt sorry for this mother and that she
at least seemed worth a little time and money spent
in the rescue of her boy. It was one of the little di-
gressions that he could not help and he excused it to
himself by saying that from the next morning on he
would devote all his energy to the Erlach case.
The time passed finally and about ten minutes be-
fore the departure of the train two young men came
in hastily, in earnest conversation. They parted just
inside the door and the taller of the two hurried to the
ticket office. Muller, who followed close behind,
heard him ask for a third-class ticket to Vienna.
There was no third-class on the express so the young
man was obliged to go second. When he had his
ticket, he hurried out to the platform, Muller still
following. The detective motioned to the waiting
conductor and the official helped the young man into
the compartment that Muller had reserved. The lat-
ter got in himself and a moment later the train started.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Tonner," began Muller,
when they were well on their way.
Karl Tonner sprang from his seat, then sank back
again, stammering inarticulately.
“ You want to know who I am?” asked Muller
with a smile. “I am a man who has come to find
you and take you home — I am a detective."


66 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
“Did that fool Stillinger give me away — when
there was no need for it? — or — have they arrested
him again?”
Muller was surprised, but now he knew why Karl
Tonner left Vienna. “Don't be angry,” he said,
“ you ought to have known that you couldn't depend
on Stillinger.”
“But it was he who told me to stand watch.”
“Even then you didn't have to do it.”
“Did you ever go a whole week without anything
to eat? »
“No, I'm not afraid of work.”
Karl Tonner's eyes dropped. “I was coming
home,” he said after a pause. “I wanted to come
back and be a decent man again — I was coming back
to see my mother. But I won't be able to do it now!
I won't be able to ask her to forgive me. I never
thought that I'd be arrested now - oh, my poor
mother will never outlive it!”
“ But you will, all right.”
“Oh, don't make fun of me. Haven't you got a
heart?”
“ About as much as you have, to judge by your
conduct towards your mother."
“Oh, I'm a good-for-nothing.— I know it. But
how do you know so much about me? Have the po-
lice been watching me?"
“ They've naturally been looking up your record.”
“On account of that little fool thing? Stillinger
sent me word that the man wasn't really hurt. Why
did they arrest him again then? And why did you
follow me here?”
“ See here, young friend, you'd better not be asking
so many questions. Leave that to me.”
“Very well then. But I don't have to answer you,
do I?"
“Oh ho, we're defiant, are we? That will only


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 67
make things worse for you. The best thing for you
to do is to stick severely to the truth. Then you
won't mix yourself up in what you say and set the
Judge against you."
“ The Judge? Are they going to bring me to
trial?”
“Why, of course. They want to find out about the
other matter, the more important one.”
“What other matter? What do you mean?” .
“I mean what happened in the Erlach house."
“What happened there?” Tonner's voice was full
of defiance. “I told my mother she ought to ask
Mr. Erlach for money, if you want to know. I don't
know why that should interest the police? She
didn't do it anyway. She turned me out of the house
and _”
“And then she fainted and lay there unconscious
ever so long — and next morning Mr. Erlach had
disappeared and has not been found since.”
Karl Tonner stared at the man opposite him as if
dazed. It was clear that he did not understand the
matter at all at first. But as the comprehension came
to him, he screamed aloud and sprang up. He stood
before Muller, his face white, his big blue eyes full of
horror, trembling in every fibre, and stretched out his
hand as if pleading for mercy. “Then that was what
she meant,” he groaned. “That — she even believes
me capable of murder — that was what she meant
and I didn't dare tell her that it wasn't true — be-
cause just a few days before I'd helped to knock a
man senseless and rob him!”
The poor boy sank back in his seat, trembling all
over. Muller looked at him pityingly, although his
mind was busy with the question: “Who then, is
the unknown murderer, and where must I seek
him?"
It was some time before Karl Tonner could control
g for mer That - shehat she mean


68 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
himself. Finally he began to speak again: “ You say
that Mr. Erlach disappeared that night?”
“ Yes, that was what I said.”
“And in my excitement I imagined of course that
he must have been murdered and buried somewhere."
“You may possibly be right about that.”
.“ Possibly? Don't they know?”.
“No, nothing has been discovered.”
“Why did they think of me? I hadn't anything
against the old man. I never even saw him.”
“Robbery may have been the motive for the mur-
der. It is known that you were with your mother
that evening, after Erlach had gone to bed.” Young
Tonner clenched his teeth and groaned aloud as Mul-
ler continued calmly: “We know your past career,
we know that you are idle and disinclined to work;
we know that you are pleasure-loving and unscrupu-
lous with but a very poor idea of duty or considera-
tion for others. It's easy enough to be led into mur-
der when one is determined to get money at any cost.
You confessed to the other matter, might it not have
been the same with Erlach? He was an old man, not
strong; it would have taken little to finish him - es-
pecially when he had been awakened from sleep-—"
“Who says he was asleep while I was in the
house ? ” interrupted Karl.
“What do you know about it?"
“I know there was a light in his room. Not a
night-light, a regular lamp."
“ Did your mother know that?”
“No, I didn't tell her. She thought he was
asleep.”
“It would be difficult for you to convince people
that you could climb that wall without help.”
“So they know I came in over the wall, do they?"
said Karl bitterly, “and they think I must have


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 69
brought an accomplice with me. Do they — do they
believe that my mother —”.
“No, they do not,” said Muller quickly. “Your
mother's life would give the lie to any suspicions."
Karl's head sank on his breast. After a while he
spoke slowly and grimly: “Yes, Stillinger was with
me, but he stayed outside the wall. It was he who
drove me to do it — to go to my mother that evening,
- and he waited outside for me.”
“Why did you want a hundred crowns? Of
course I don't believe the story of the position and the
bond. But I certainly don't think you're bad enough
to frighten your mother to that extent, just because
that rascal Stillinger demanded it of you."
Again Karl paused a moment before he spoke.
“Well, I suppose you'll have to know that too. I had
a position as errand boy with a tailor and he gave me
an overcoat to take to the furrier. I pawned the coat
and Stillinger and I used up the fifty crowns it brought
me. Of course it was found out, on the 8th of Sep-
tember it was. The tailor found the pawn ticket and
told me he'd give me two days to return the money.
I was living with Stillinger then and of course I told
him the story. He said to go to my mother about it.”
" And you asked her for a hundred crowns ? Man
alive! Isn't there any limit to your heartlessness and
your impudence?”
Karl Tonner's head sank again. In spite of his
show of bravado he was only half-heartedly a rascal..
Meekly he endured all this scolding at the hands of
a man who, although Karl did not know it, had no
authority for the position he took. But it was one of
Muller's characteristics that he invariably knew the
right time to say a thing. It was this that gave him
his power to touch the heart of even the most aban-
doned criminal.
him. And you there, an


70 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
His present task was an easy one. Karl Tonner
had reached the crisis which comes to all at some
time or other, the moment when the natural good,
hidden down deep in the boy's heart, began to assert
itself in a wave of disgust at the life he was leading.
For in spite of his selfishness and laziness Karl was
not really bad at heart. He had a hidden fund of in-
herited good qualities to fall back upon, and the crisis
of emotion through which he was now passing had
served to bring it out. He bared his soul pitilessly to
this utter stranger, as a sort of penance for his mis-
doing.
“ And when your mother couldn't give you the
money what did you do then?” inquired the detec-
tive.
“ Stillinger and I spent all day making plans.
Finally we decided to try the holdup. Do you want
me to tell you about that?"
“No, you needn't. I know about it.”
Muller had read the police account of the farmer
coming in to market in the early morning hours and
being held up by a young man by the name of Still-
inger, who was known to be an assistant at the city
market. In spite of the victim's intoxication he had
managed to call for help, and Stillinger was arrested.
His accomplice, who had stood sentry, escaped. Mul-
ler was now the first to know that Karl Tonner had
been this accomplice. The victim of the holdup had
not been injured at all and the prisoner protested that
it was a misunderstanding, therefore he was released
after two or three days. Muller continued his ques-
tioning.
“How did you know that your mother had left
Inzersdorf?”
“She wrote to me.”
“ But she told you nothing about Mr. Erlach's dis-
appearance? And you didn't see it in the papers ? "
injured lice. The ow that Ka escaped. tested.


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 71
“I don't often get a chance to read a paper — and
since I've had so much trouble I haven't taken any in-
terest in anything. I look over the advertisements in
the Crown Gazette — that is I've done so since the
12th of September.”
“Oh, I see,” smiled Muller. “That was how you
knew it was safe for you to come back. An arrange-
ment with Stillinger, eh?”
"Sure. He let me know it was all right and I
wanted to come back to give my mother the rest of the
money — to tell her everything —”
“ And to promise her you'd turn over a new leaf?”
The detective's tone was slightly sarcastic.
Karl looked at him pleadingly and answered: “I
really want to do it this time — will I be allowed to
see my mother — ? Soon — real soon? If she's got
to live through this disgrace, at least I want her to
know that I'm not a murderer.” The young man
burst into tears, and Muller let the crisis of his emo-
tion pass without interruption. When Karl had con-
trolled himself again, he said: “ And when I serve
my term, when they let me out again, will you let me
hunt for Erlach's murderer? If they haven't found
him till then, I'll find him.”
A smile and a quick look of interest illumined
Muller's face." That's not a bad idea,” he said after
a moment. “How much schooling have you had ?”
“Normal school and a business school.”
“And yet you've never been able to accomplish any-
thing?"
“I-I- I didn't half try, I'm afraid.”
“Do you know any foreign languages ?”
“I can talk French. My mother speaks it just as
she does German. And we always spoke it at home
when I was a child. I kept it up ever since.”
“ That might come in handy," said Muller thought-
fully..


74 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
When they had sat silent for some little time, Nellie
said:
“You asked me to leave the others and come in
here because you had something to say to me. What
is it?"
“It's difficult for me to say it,” said Paul. “But
the matter is important — very important for me."
“Don't be afraid to talk,” said Nellie gently.
“You know I'm always glad to hear anything you
have to say.”
Without answering, Paul handed her the anonymous
letter. She read it, then turned to him in surprise.
“Is this what was worrying you?” she asked. “I
don't understand! — and why — why did you want
me to read it?” Nellie's voice trembled, the lids
drooped over her eyes and the color came and went
on her soft cheeks.
“ It doesn't worry me as much as it did at first,”
said the young officer. “I can think about it more
calmly now. And it is you, just you who must read
this letter, Miss Nellie. This about the father-in-law,
don't you understand ? It means your father.”
“Oh -”
" At least I am forced to think it does, because
yours is the only house to which I have come with
any frequency at all. But believe me, Miss Nellie,
never with any word or hint, have I suggested that I
might be so fortunate -"
Paul stopped, unable to find the words in his eager-
ness.
The girl looked at him gravely —: “ You need not
tell me this — I know it — I trust you.”
“ Thank you — thank you! — and now may I
bother you with a few questions? "
“ Certainly."
“Does this handwriting remind you of any you
might have seen, at any time?”


76 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
have to think very far — I don't know of anybody
at all.”
"Now Miss Nellie! Why I could name two, be-
sides my own self. One of them is in the other
room now. There he stands talking to your father,
and probably wishing me in the farthest corner of
the earth.”
Nellie laughed brightly. “You mean Mr. Kress?
Oh, he's such a decent sort, even if he has a red
beard. You surely don't think that he —”
“ Certainly not. No more do I think it of my
comrade Lorwin, who's now up in the mountains of
Hungary. But there must be someone else. A man
doesn't need to have said anything to a woman and
yet somehow she understands that he is in love with
her. Can't you remember any such secret admirer?”
“Oh, yes ! — there is someone — he sends me
flowers anonymously.”
“ Indeed!”
“ And poems too."
“ Have you any of them?” asked Paul eagerly.
“No. I'm sorry now."
“What happened to them?"
“I burned them. I didn't like the tone of them
it was too passionate — it wasn't nice. Altogether I
received about six or seven of these bunches of flowers,
each time with a poem. I sent the flowers to the
hospital. I read only two of the poems, the others
I burned without reading them.”
“That's too bad. Did that happen in Linz
too?”
“No, that began in Mauer, you know, the little vil-
lage outside of Vienna where we lived for nearly a
year."
“Two years ago then — and you never heard any
more from this admirer?”
“ Why, I don't know — I get flowers occasionally;


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 77
perhaps they're from him. But he doesn't send any
more of the poems.”
“How did these things come to you?”
“When we were in the country, they came with the
parcels post from Vienna. Here they're brought by
a messenger.”
“Now may I ask where you lived in Mauer? Did
you have a house of your own there?”.
“No, we rented the larger part of a house from a
Mrs. von Probst. She owned the house and also a
very unpleasant son. He was one of those conceited
individuals, although goodness knows he had no
right to be, for the only thing noticeable about him
was his ugliness.”
“I suppose he tried to attract your attention?”
“No more than he did that of everybody else. But
I shouldn't talk so about him. The poor fellow can't
help being ugly. In spite of his conceit, he was not
very aggressive, and they said that he was honest and
very capable too.”
“ And you can't remember anything else? nothing
at all that would give us a clue to the writer of this
letter ?”
“No, nothing at all. Then you've engaged a de-
tective about your uncle?”.
“ Yes, a very good one, they tell me.”
“And yet nothing's been discovered, no word of
your uncle — or of his death?”.
“No, nothing. This detective has only just taken
up the case, you know. I am sure no one could
wish to have light brought into this mystery more
than I do."
Paul sighed deeply and an answering sigh came
from the girl beside him. Then they both blushed
and did not dare to look at each other for the moment,
for the same thought had passed through the mind
of each — the thought of what definite news of


78 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
Leopold Erlach's death would mean to them. Nellie
bent her head deeper over the fragrant mass of
violets that filled the glass bowl on the table. They
were Paul's gift, while the great bunch of glowing
roses that stood near had been brought by Mr. Kress,
the rich merchant who now stood in the other room
talking to the Colonel but glancing impatiently
towards the corner where the young couple sat.
There was a heavy silence between the two, full of
unspoken emotion. Finally Paul said slowly and
gravely: “Miss Nellie, you're working too hard at
your studies,— you are so pale. I don't half believe
that you have the strength to stand the strain of
teaching. If I dare give you any advice at all, it
will be to — to prefer — those roses — It is now the
thirteenth day since my uncle's disappearance and
there has been no sign of him, living or dead. If it
cannot be proven that he is alive or dead — we know
what that means. Why Miss Nellie! — Nellie! —
what are you doing?”
Nellie had arisen from her seat, taken the vase with
the roses and carried it away to set it on a cabinet at
the other end of the room. Then she came back to
the sofa.
“ What are you doing? - what have you done?”
he asked again.
“ The only thing I could do," said the girl gently,
her cheeks a soft rose as he bent to kiss her hand.
“I prefer violets."
teall be to
to since my him, living lead
we
The morning after his return from Pressburg,
Muller made an early call on Johann Stillinger, Karl's
accomplice of the attempted robbery. He had the
address from the police and walked into the young
man's room without much ceremony.
“You are Johann Stillinger ? ” the detective said.
“And who are you?” asked the man who sat at


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 79
the table, a true type of bully of the tenement dis-
tricts.
“ I'm a police agent.”
Stillinger said nothing for a moment. He'd had so
much to do with the police recently that he judged
silence to be his best policy. He continued to drink
his morning coffee as if the matter didn't concern him
at all. But it did not escape Muller's notice that the
spoon shook in his hand.
The detective sat down on the only other chair in
the bare little room and began comfortably —:
“Don't let your coffee get cold. I just want you to
tell me a little more about that holdup last week.
Now Karl Tonner —”.
Stillinger jumped up, dropping his spoon on the
floor. “ Has that fool been talkin'— the damn idiot
-” he screamed. “ Just wait till I settle him — when
I get out again.”
“Do be quiet. You'll alarm the whole house, and
besides, nobody's locked you up yet.”
“ What do you mean by that?”
“Merely a hint that I haven't come to arrest you
- in fact I haven't any warrant to do it.”
Joahnn Stillinger looked at his visitor in surprise.
“Then what'd yer come for?” he asked, sitting
down again.
“ I'll tell you."
“Hurry up about it!”
“ I'll take my own time, please. First of all I have
a suggestion: suppose you take a position with the
Street Cleaning Department.”
Stillinger shook his head and asked ironically:
“Now where'd yer get that idea ?”
" It's not such a bad idea. They are not likely to
take you on again at the market. And I suppose you
haven't learned any trade or you wouldn't have been
in that work. It won't be easy for you to get work


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 81
“ But he asked for a hundred.”
“Oh, you know that, do yer? Then what do yer
ask me about it?”
Muller looked straight at the man and the bully's
eyes sank.
“ It was you who got him to do that,” said the de-
tective calmly, “and you went with him to be sure he
wouldn't turn back at the last moment."
“Yes, that's true. Karl's a weak sort of chap;
he's sure the kind that turns back at the last minute.”
“I shouldn't call a man a coward merely because
he hasn't the courage to do an evil thing. Now I
want you to tell me exactly what happened that
night.";
"Well if yer know it all, why should I tell yer
about it?"
“You will do as I tell you and do it right now!”
“ All right then. Well, we went out to the country
and it was pretty late. I heard it strike eleven in
Inzersdorf when Karl climbed over the wall. I
walked up and down, then I stood by a tree, a poplar.
tree it was, at the edge of the meadow. That's how
we'd arranged it. I waited and waited and it was
the longest time before I heard anything movin',
nothin' but just the wind. Then I hear somethin'
moving in the avenue — under the row of trees that
goes out from the garden to the highroad. But there
was such a mist on the moor that the moon didn't
help yer to see much. All I knew was, that what
was movin' under the trees wasn't comin' from the
same place where Karl climbed over the wall. So I
thinks she saved him the trouble and opened the gate
for him. Then I calls to him two or three times
'cause I thinks he's forgotten where he was to meet..
He was going in the opposite direction from my tree.
When I shouted, there wasn't a sound in the avenue.
I called again but there was nothin' happened. Then


82 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
I hears the dry leaves in the avenue making a noise
as if somebody was walking very quick and I calls
again. Then way off in the fog I see a man's figure
only just for a minute and I don't see him very dis-
tinctly. Then he's gone again. I yelled after him
and suddenly I hears Karl behind me sayin' to me:
'What are yer yelling so for, you fool!' There he
was, come over the wall, just where he'd gone in. I
asked him for the money and he tells me, very mad,
that he couldn't get it. So we comes back here and
then I thinks out the holdup.”
Stillinger stopped and sat looking at the detective
in astonishment. Muller was evidently greatly in-
terested by the man's story. He sat leaning forward
in his chair, his lips firmly set, his eyes sharp as
steel, and his face pale in excitement. Finally he
breathed deeply and leaned back more comfortably.
Then after a pause he asked:
“Then you saw the man only very indistinctly?”
“ Yes, just dim like in the fog."
“Was there anything you particularly noticed
about him?"
“ No, or yes. He seemed pretty big — but perhaps
that was only the fog."
“ Yes, that's possible. Did he seem to be carrying
anything?"
“ No."
“Or were there two of them?”
“ No, there wasn't but one.”
“Do you think that if we stood under the poplar
tree you could show me the direction the man took ? ”
Now Stillinger became interested himself. “ Is
that so important ? ” he said.
Muller replied sharply: “Answer my question."
“ Sure, I think I could tell yer.”
“Very well. Six o'clock this evening you are to
meet me in front of the church of St. Roch. I'll


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 83
have a carriage there and we'll drive out to Inzers-
dorf."
“I'll be there,” said Stillinger. “But why is all
that so important?”.
Muller stood up and took his hat. “I suppose you
never read the papers," he said.
“I get a blink at one occasionally when I have the
cash for a glass of beer in the café.”
“Well, you don't miss much. And the matter con-
cerned here probably wouldn't interest you. So you
needn't ask any more about it. Be there on time and
now goodbye.”
The detective was already at the door when Still-
inger called to him: “ But you want me to do some-
thin' for yer. You ain't getting me a position for
nothing?"
Muller laughed: “ You've done it already or nearly
so.”
“What?”
“ You told me a story which I think will be of
great value to me.”
“Is that all?" asked the man, astonished.
“ And then you'll take a drive with me this
evening."
“And yer going to get me a place for that?”
“ Yes, a place and a chance to be a decent man.
You're in luck, young friend. But I don't know as
I'm doing it so much for you, as for all those to
whom you might be dangerous if you keep on as you
are now.”
Another nod and Muller was outside the door. He
had gone to see Stillinger simply so as not to re-
proach himself for having neglected any possible clue.
Since Karl Tonner told him that Stillinger had waited
outside the Green House that evening, Muller knew
it would be wise to find the man and question him,
for he might have seen something during his vigil.
had gone to
for having neglect Stillinger had wa


84 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
But experienced detective as he was, Muller never
imagined he was going to get as much out of this
visit as he really did.
Stillinger had undoubtedly seen either Erlach's
murderer or Erlach himself, probably the former.
For unless the old gentleman had suddenly lost his
senses, it was not at all likely that he should have
voluntarily gone into hiding and remained absent so
long.
But if the figure seen through the fog was Erlach's
murderer, where was the old man himself? Accord-
ing to Stillinger's report the man he had seen had
not been carrying a burden. And he had been quite
certain that there were not two of them. Therefore
it could not be a case of kidnapping, as Muller had
thought might be possible. The mystery deepened
the more he went into it, and Muller's interest grew
with the growing difficulty of the case.
His carriage stopped in front of the church exactly
at six o'clock and he found Stillinger waiting for him.
They drove out into the country at a sharp pace, and
reached the poplar tree by the wayside just as twi-
light was falling. Muller let his wagon wait for him
at some little distance.
The poplar tree lay about fifty paces from the
garden wall and about an equal distance from the end
of the avenue of trees.
“Over there is where I see him disappear," said
Stillinger, pointing towards the southwest, where an-
other avenue of very old trees cut off the horizon line.
“Was it lighter then than it is now?” asked Muller.
“You said the moon was shining."
Stillinger shook his head. “Yes, but there was
a fog. If you want to know how far yer could see
that night, you'll have to wait a bit."
“ All right, we'll wait a bit.”
The Black Moor, on the edge of which the two


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 85
watchers stood, was a low-lying, almost treeless waste,
already veiled in twilight and in the fluttering ragged
ends of mist that rose from it in spots. In the direc-
tion to which Stillinger pointed there were several
roads, leading various ways.
“ Did the man change his direction after you called
to him? ” asked the detective.
Stillinger did not think that this was the case.
Then they stood in silence for some time till finally
the younger man said: “ There now. This is about
like what it was that night. Yer couldn't scarce see
the trees in the avenue one from another. So yer
see I couldn't get more than just a squint of him. I'll
go over there and then you can see how it was."
He ran out into the gloom. Muller watched him
disappearing into the avenue of trees, heard the leaves
rustle under his feet and saw him come out again at
the other end. Stillinger ran on for some few yards
in the direction in which he had pointed, and Muller
could see him most of the time. But he knew that
on the night in question there had been very much
more of a fog and the air was not nearly as clear.
This rendered it much more difficult to estimate the
distance and size of any object.
Muller returned to Vienna with Stillinger, leaving
the latter at the church where he had found him.
“Go to the main office of the Street Cleaning Depart-
ment to-morrow morning at seven o'clock," were the
detective's parting words. “They know that you are
coming and your position is assured.”
And the young man, who now drops out of the
story, did really enter the service of the Street Clean-
ing Department and led a more or less decent life.
This was just one of the many good things that Muller
did, so quietly and unassumingly that few people
heard of them.


CHAPTER VII
MR. ROBERT HARTMANN COMES TO INZERSDORF
THE great brick factory, the chief reason for ex-
istence of the little village of Inzersdorf, lay about
half an hour distant by foot from the official center
of the town. Near the factory was the large and at-
tractive dwelling house in which Richard Plöhn, Gen-
eral Manager of the works, lived with his family.
Tall heavy-foliaged trees and wide stretches of lawn
separated the comfortable home from its utilitarian
but unattractive surroundings. The main highroad,
leading to the south, lay along one side of the garden.
On this road, in front of the main entrance to the
Manager's garden, a well-appointed carriage halted
one rainy evening. A young man who sat beside the
coachman on the box sprang out and rang the bell at
the gate. The servant who opened, bowed deeply be-
fore the gentleman in the wagon.
“Too bad you should come in such weather, sir,”
he said. “Shall I take your trunk?”
"Please do. And Karl, you take the handbags.
No, leave me the umbrella myself.”
Following the two servants up the path through the
heavy rain, the stranger entered the main door of the
house, greeted most cordially by Manager Plöhn.
“I am Manager Plöhn," said the latter. “Wel-
come to my home!”
“My name is Hartmann, Robert Hartmann," an-
swered the elderly gentleman who had just arrived.
“I hope sincerely that my coming will not cause any
inconvenience in your household and that you will not
86


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 87
be angry with the Baron because he sends me to
you."
“No, indeed,” answered Plöhn. “You do us a
great favor by coming, for I assure you it is dreary
enough in Inzersdorf sometimes.”
“ But you must know I have the reputation of being
an original.”
“Oh, I'm not afraid of that,” laughed the manager.
“We have two or three other originals in our family
already. But now tell me, would you rather be
domiciled down stairs or up one flight? There are
two rooms at your service in either story. And we
can easily take care of your valet also.”
“May I be quite frank?”
“ Please do."
“ The Baron told me something about a pavilion in
your garden.”
“Yes, there is such a one. But it's quite a dis-
tance from the house. And if you want to have your
man with you there, it would give you only one room
for yourself.”
“I don't mind that. And I am used to living
alone."
“Then I will have them put the pavilion in order
for you.”
“You go and help them, Karl,” said Mr. Hartmann
to his servant.
“It will be damp and cold in the pavilion,", con-
tinued Plöhn. “They will have to air the rooms and
heat them thoroughly. Won't you join us in the sit-
ting-room until the place is ready? And you're sure
that you will not be afraid to sleep there? The
pavilion is in a distant corner of the garden, right
by the wall beyond which is the open moor. And
our neighborhood, I am sorry to say, is not a safe
one."
“I am not afraid. I am strong and well and am


88 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
not unarmed. Besides I am not alone if I have my
man with me.”
Mr. Plöhn gave orders to have the pavilion put in
readiness and then asked his guest to follow him into
the sitting-room. An hour later the stranger was the
center of attraction in the family circle. Plöhn's lit-
tle boy rode fearlessly on his knee, while Mimi, a
year older, tugged at his coat with perfect confidence
and begged for another lovely story. The great St.
Bernard dog sat beside Hartmann, looking at him
with cordial interest. And the three grown members
of the family, Manager Plöhn and his wife, as well
as his sister, Miss Suzanne, had already decided that
the advent of this stranger into their midst was as
pleasant a thing as could have happened to them.
For they found Hartmann a highly cultivated, delight-
ful conversationalist who bade fair to be an entertain-
ing addition to the small social circle of the neighbor-
hood.
The stranger, Robert Hartmann as he called himself,
a landed proprietor from Poland, had discovered brick
clay on his estate, and determined to start a brick
factory. But as he knew nothing whatever about this
industry he concluded that it would be well to study
it up first. His friend Baron von Stein in Vienna
had suggested to Hartmann that he might live in
Inzersdorf for two or three weeks and study the brick-
making there. The Baron wrote to the Manager about
this and the latter had at once invited his employer's
friend to be his guest for an indefinite length of time.
The Baron had hinted that any courtesy offered to
Hartmann would be considered as a favor to himself,
and Plöhn was only too glad to oblige his chief. The
servants had been told to make everything as com-
fortable as possible for him, and the family were now
greatly pleased to find their unknown guest so delight-
ful a person


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 89
About an hour after Hartmann's arrival the
pavilion was ready for him and his host accompanied
him through the garden. The little house itself was
a comfortable structure built of bricks raised up on
a foundation of the height of half a story, and con-
taining one large room and one smaller one. The
windows were protected by iron bars and the door
was a heavy one ornamented with iron.
The rooms were comfortably, even handsomely
furnished, for the Plöhns used it for extra guests who
came unexpectedly when the main house was full.
“Why, how pretty this is !” exclaimed Hartmann
as he opened the door of the main room. The heavy
curtains shut out the storm and the bright fire, as
well as the shaded electrics, gave an inviting glow
of warmth and light. Hartmann looked about him
with great pleasure and set about making himself
comfortable, after having promised his host to return
to the house punctually at seven o'clock for the even-
ing meal. When left alone with his servant the guest
opened each of the windows in turn, examining the
lay of the land outside. Then he helped the valet
dispose of the contents of his trunks and bags, and
finally lay down on the sofa and lit himself a pipe.
At the stroke of seven he was again in the main
house and found four other guests there beside him-
self. Two of the three other men were introduced
to him as officials of the factory, Gebhart the cashier,
and Bauer, the head bookkeeper. The third guest
was named by Plöhn as: “Dr. Maximoff, my future
brother-in-law.” With Maximoff, who was a tall,
fine-looking Russian, was a charming little girl of
five years old, his daughter. As they sat at table,
Hartmann, apparently engaged in doing all justice to
the abundant repast, was the while looking carefully
around him and taking stock of the others of the
party. Instinctively from the first he took a dislike


90 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
to Bauer, the bookkeeper. He chided himself in-
wardly for this, saying that the poor man could not
help his very unattractive appearance, his coarse ir-
regular features, immense mouth, and ugly yellow
teeth. Nor was he probably altogether to blame for
his very clumsy and awkward manners. But there
was something in the man's expression, a shifty look
to the pale eyes which glanced about him nervously
from time to time, that particularly antagonized the
stranger. Gebhart, the cashier, was merely a com-
monplace type, whereas Dr. Maximoff was in every
way a noticeable personality, a complete contrast to
the unfortunate bookkeeper. The Russian, appar-
ently about forty years of age, was a superbly-built
man whose strength was combined with a quiet dig-
nity and an easy grace of movement that was most
attractive. He was an excellent talker, bright and
cheerful, his handsome face lighting up with frank,
smiling animation at every subject that interested
him. Yet in repose there was a deep melancholy in
his great eyes that gave an added charm to the man's
personality. Hartmann quite understood the affec-
tion with which Miss Suzanne Plöhn, otherwise a
calm and self-possessed young lady, glanced up now
and then at her betrothed.
The meal progressed comfortably and when it was
over the company adjourned to the cozy living-room.
The gentlemen had just started out on an animated
political discussion when the maid-servant entered
the room with an appearance of haste and excitement.
“What's the matter?” asked Plöhn, who saw the
girl first.
“ There's something happened, sir. There's been a
fight and one of the workmen is badly hurt — the
constable's there already," replied the maid. Plöhn
left the room hastily, followed by his two employees.
Maximoff went with them. Hartmann sat quietly


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 91
with the ladies, although they both looked at him some-
what in surprise. But they were quite satisfied that
he made no move to follow the others, as they did not
enjoy being left alone.
The sudden disturbance naturally made a break in
the conversation. The guest broke an uneasy little
pause by asking if these fights were customary among
the workmen in the factory.
“Yes, unfortunately they are," sighed Mrs. Plöhn.
“ Particularly on Saturdays," put in Suzanne,
“ when they get their money and gather in the saloon,
there's sure to be trouble. But I suppose it's so
everywhere in these big establishments.”
“ Yes, that's true," added Mrs. Plöhn, “ only our
particular misfortune is that among our men there
must be a monster of quite particular and unusual
wickednessin looked med.
Whyne lady.
Hartmann looked up with great interest. “Must
be, you say?” he asked. “Why so indefinite?”
“Why, I don't know," said the lady. “I suppose
I might have spoken quite definitely, for we know that
he is here, only no one has ever seen him, at least not
to know it. His existence, however, is too unfortun-
ately an evident fact.”
“ Anna," said her sister-in-law, “I think I'd better
take the children up to the nursery.” Mrs. Plöhn
nodded and Suzanne led the three little ones away.
Hartmann waited for their departure with impa-
tience.
“Do tell me, dear madam, what you mean by this?
It is most interesting. What has happened here? and
why are any of your workingmen suspected of what-
ever deed it is you are thinking of.”
" It began about three years ago in the autumn,"
said Mrs. Plöhn. “They found the body of an old
pedlar in one of our shallow ponds. He had not
been drowned, but had been strangled before being


92 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
thrown into the water. The cord that had pressed
his life out was still around his throat. It was a bit
of black cord of an unusual sort.”
" And the criminal, or criminals, were not discov-
ered?"
“No, the murderer — we are quite certain there
was only one — has not been discovered even yet.”
“Was there any motive that one could find out?
An act of personal revenge? - or was it robbery?
Even the pedlar's little pack can sometimes excite
cupidity.”
“Oh, no, the man was a poor old soul who hadn't
an enemy in the world and his pack was found un-
touched beside the pond.”
“ Hm! And then what else?”
“Oh, there were other cases."
“ Other murders?”
“No, minor crimes.”
“For instance?”
“ An empty house was broken into. A private
house belonging to people who came here for the
summer."
“ Was there much taken from the house?”
“ There was nothing taken at all.”
“ Then the criminal — or criminals, were fright-
ened away?" !
“ No, no one saw the man."
“ You are quite sure there was only one?”
“Yes, there was only one, that was proved by the
tracks in the snow. Our constable happened to pass
the house the next morning and saw footprints in the
deep snow leading from the street up to the empty
house."
“Hm! And then?”
“ The official followed these tracks up to the house,
stepping carefully beside them. The tracks, he said,
were of unusual size. The house has only a small


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 93
garden and is surrounded by a high iron railing. The
constable noticed that the house door and all the win-
dows were opened. There was no smoke from the
chimneys but the constable thought it possible that
someone might have come merely to air the house and
to look about inside. So he rang the bell.
“There was no answer even to his repeated ringing.
He saw that the footprints led up to the front door,
and that other tracks led out again from the door and
around to the back of the house. The policeman fol-
lowed these tracks back to the end of the garden and
saw that there were several boards broken out of the
fence. From there the tracks led into the grove be-
yond.
“Our worthy constable went around to the front of
the house again and hailing a passerby, sent him to the
police station with news of the occurrence. He him-
self waited in front of the house until the police com-
mission came, then they all entered together. The
house was empty and there was no sign of damage
done within. In one particular only was there any
trace of an outsider's presence there. The lock of
the sideboard was broken open and a bottle of ex-
pensive wine taken out. This, two-thirds empty, with
a used glass, were on top of the sideboard. A cigar
box was open and one of the cigars missing. A lit-
tle heap of ashes on the sideboard showed that the
intruder had been smoking there. But where do you
think that half of the cigar was found?”
“I haven't an idea.”
“No, nobody could imagine it that hadn't heard of
it. The rest of the cigar was found in the mouth of
a snow-man which was built up in the yard at the
back of the house, a remarkably well-modeled figure.”
“What a delightful idea!”
“ Yes, the owner of the house thought so, too, as
he is a man with a sense of humor. Only he did not


94 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
else on thewhat was
care to run the danger of more such unexpected visi-
tations, so he sold his house to people who would live
in it all the year round. The whole performance was
astonishingly impudent, to say the least.”
“But that isn't all Mrs. Plöhn. I can see by your
face that you are keeping back the most interesting
morsel for the last.”.
“ Your guess is correct, Mr. Hartmann."
“ And may I not know what it is?”
“ I'm waiting for you to ask how it was we knew
that this impudent trick was played by the murderer
of the poor old pedlar?”
" Please imagine the question asked. I'm very
curious as to the answer.”
“The originator of this trick had left something
else on the snow-man besides the cigar.”
“And what was that?”
“A black cord.” .
“Oh — that is interesting.” Mr. Hartmann
straightened up in his chair and looked out into space,
his gray eyes brilliantly keen.
“I thought you would be surprised. It certainly
is a piece of astonishing cynicism — this leaving the
black cord around the neck of the innocent snow-man,
in the very same manner that it was found about the
neck of the unfortunate pedlar," said Mrs. Plöhn.
Hartmann passed his hand over his forehead. “ In
this case it took the place of a visiting card.” His
voice had a peculiarly hard tone as he spoke.
“Yes, of course, there was no other reason for it
this time. But it's strange this unknown monster
should have been so ready to let us know that he was
still in the neighborhood, after such a murder.”
“ Yes, it was quite unnecessary, wasn't it?" put in
Miss Suzanne, who had just returned. “Did you
tell Mr. Hartmann about the attack on the cattle-
dealer?”
blach piece ont you antly keen


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 95
“No, I left that for you. That happened since
you've been here.”
“Oh, then Miss Plöhn hasn't lived here always?"
asked the guest with polite interest.
“No, I've only been here since my mother's death,
which happened about a year ago. And this other
incident occurred just after my arrival.”
“ Then you tell Mr. Hartmann about it," laughed
Mrs. Plöhn. “That is, if you're sure you will not
feel creepy when you get back to your lonely abode,"
she added turning to her guest." For it happened
just outside our wall, about opposite the pavilion.”
“That makes it all the more interesting,” said
Hartmann with a smile which cloaked the tense
lines of his face. “Now I really must hear the
story.”
“ You may have noticed that a lane goes past our
wall at the end of the garden. It goes through a
sort of a cut right there, for the ground is higher on
the other side and the bushes are thick. It was just
such a rainy evening as this one when a cattle-dealer
of Inzersdorf walked past here alone, on his way to
the more distant of our two railway stations. It was
a rather thoughtless thing for the man to do, for he
was known to have made a big deal at the market
that day and might be supposed therefore to have con-
siderable money with him. As he approached the
cut in the lane, the cattle-dealer had the feeling that
someone was following him on the other side of the
bushes. He stopped and listened, it was already too
dark to see anything. He thought he saw a figure
behind the bushes, but when he went over to look it
was gone. The man took his revolver in his hand
and went on his way. Suddenly his hat was torn
from his head and something struck his face like a
whip-lash, drawing a long cut in his cheek. The
dealer shouted and fired his revolver in the air. With


96 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
the other hand he caught at the thing, whatever it
was, that was on his face. He only just caught it
lightly, something that seemed to him like a thin cord
with sharp edges, then it was torn from his hand and
he saw a figure disappear into the woods. He shot
again in that direction but had no means of knowing
whether the bullet took effect. Everything was quiet
after that, but the cattle-dealer returned to the Inzers-
dorf police station and told what had happened to
him. Next morning, the ground around the spot was
examined.”
“Was anything found?”
“Nothing but a number of footprints in the rain-
soaked ground, footprints of unusual size."
“ All footprints seem large in rain-soaked earth,”
remarked Hartman.
Suzanne smiled. “That may be,” she said, “but
the footprints of this lasso-thrower measured sixteen
inches at least, and the space between them was
nearly six feet. The man must have fairly jumped
from step to step.”
“Yes, that's so. That was a wide stride."
“Particularly when you consider the condition of
the ground.”
“Which shows that the man had very long legs,
great physical strength and activity," said the guest,
and Suzanne added: “And it shows also, doesn't it,
that he must be a man in the prime of life.”
“Quite right, Miss Plöhn,” replied Hartmann,
“ your conclusion would do honor to an experienced
police official.”
“Oh, here they come,” said Suzanne rising quickly
and going to meet her brother. “Where is Sergius ? "
she asked. “Is he still with the injured — or dead
man?”
“It was only an injury," said the manager.
“ Maximoff has treated his wounds and will stay with


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 97
him until the ambulance comes. He will join us
again when he has cleaned himself up, he says."
“ Who is the victim?”
“He's one of the newer men. I don't think you
know him. His wounds are not fatal but they're
Pretty bam, His wounewer men.
“Do they know who did it?"
“ There seem to be three of them. It was a drunken
brawl of course. Bauer, will you kindly telephone
to the police station? This thing has got to stop, if I
have to have the inn-keeper's concession taken away.”
Bauer left the room and the ladies continued to ques-
tion Plöhn.
“Who are the three attackers? Have they been
arrested yet?” asked Mrs. Plöhn.
“Yes, the constable has taken them off. The chief
sinner is Leeb, who is at the bottom of everything
of that kind here, and then the two Polish brothers
with the unpronounceable name."
“But this is really distressing,” said Hartmann.
“ Will I have all this trouble when I start my brick
factory?”
Plöhn laughed. “I couldn't say in advance," he
replied. “There is sure to be trouble of this kind
everywhere where you have a lot of workmen together,
a number of them unmarried men living in barracks."
“ But the brutality in this neighborhood seems to
be worse than anywhere else, even including murders
and night attacks."
“Oh, then the ladies have been telling you —”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Plöhn, “ the occurrence of this
evening naturally suggested the subject.”
“Well then, as long as we have started that topic,
suppose our friend Gebhart here tells us about his
adventure. We must all do what we can to enter-
tain our honored guest.” Plöhn spoke with a laugh
in his eyes.


98 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
“Oh, don't you make fun of us," said Suzanne
quickly. “You're just as much excited over all these
things as we are. You won't even let us walk to
Inzersdorf without protection. Didn't we have to
borrow Sergius' carriage the other day, because our
own was being fixed, and we had to be out until dark ?
No indeed, this unknown monster,' as Anna calls
him, worries you just as much as he does us."
“Who is it that worries you?” asked Maximoff,
entering the room just then.
“We're talking about the unknown criminal who
must be living here among our workmen,” said Mrs.
Plöhn.
“But why are you so sure that the man must be
one of your workmen? ” asked Hartmann, and Maxi-
moff, who took a seat beside Suzanne, added: “ Yes,
that's true, Anna, I've often intended to ask you why
you are so sure that it is one of your men?”
The hostess shrugged her shoulders. “I really
don't know why I should be so sure about it," she
confessed. “But the whole neighborhood seems to
think so and I fell in with the general opinion. Be-
sides, the police authorities know every one of the
permanent inhabitants of our village and there is no-
body among them who could come under suspicion.
But these workmen come from nobody knows where,
stay with us for a little while, and then pass on.
There is no way of controlling them or even of get-
ting to really know them."
“But don't you know,” said Dr. Maximoff gravely,
" that sometimes the most dangerous criminals can be
found in the class of people whom we invite to our
dinner tables.class of peoplangerous criminal gravely,
“Here, here,” cut in Plöhn. “Don't let's start a
discussion. We want our guest to hear Gebhart's
story.”
The cashier told them how he had been attacked one


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 99
evening as he was leaving the village inn rather late
on his way to his own rooms, which were in the
office building. The incident happened last spring,
and he still carried traces of it.
“ You can see here,” he said, pushing back his
left sleeve, “ here is where some heavy, blunt instru-
ment struck my arm. It split the bone and tore a
tendon, but my assailant did not get off undamaged.
Since our neighborhood has become so unsafe I carry
a leaded cane when I go out at night, and I struck out
with this when the man jumped at me suddenly from
behind a bush. He screamed and I knew that I must
have hurt him, I must have hit his shoulder or breast.
He sprang back into the bushes and although I tried
to follow him, he had soon disappeared in the dark-
ness. Next morning, all our men were at their posts.
But of course it was impossible to have a physical
examination made of over two hundred workingmen,
so that I could not tell whether any one of them was
suffering from a broken rib or collar-bone. How-
ever, since then I agree with Mrs. Plöhn that this
unknown criminal must be one of our factory hands.
I know that I am not a favorite with them, although
I do not know why they should hate me enough to
want to kill me. And yet there must be someone who
feels that way towards me, someone who belongs to
our establishment, for he found his way into my
room the day after the attack.”
“He came to your room?” exclaimed Hartmann
astonished.
“Yes, he came right into my room, in my absence
of course."
“ Then how did you know he was there?”
“I knew it from something that he left behind
him, a noose made of an odd sort of black cord.”
“Oh ”
“ You can imagine that the discovery did not please


100
100 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
me very much. It seemed like a threat and I have
not gone out unarmed since then.”
“ Then you are sure that your assailant was the
unknown murderer?”
unkn it looks that way to the mana one of your m
suspicior
man but he
Hartmann turned to the manager. “ And you
haven't the faintest idea, sir, which one of your men
it could be who keeps the entire neighborhood in such
fear and anxiety ?”
“No, not the faintest idea," was the answer. “I
have had a capable detective living and working
among my men for six months now. He found that
several of them were under suspicion for crimes com-
mitted elsewhere, but he found nothing that would
identify the man with the black cord. But now
enough of this unpleasant subject for to-night! Do
you care to join us at our usual game of cards ?”
The game lasted for an hour or so, then Maximoff's
carriage was called and he and his little girl left the
house. Hartmann bade his hosts good evening and
took his way down to his lonely pavilion, accompanied
by the manager and a servant. Karl opened the door
to receive them and held it open to light the way for
the return to the house.
“ Have they taken good care of you?” said Hart-
mann when he was left alone with his valet.
“Oh, yes, very nicely. They even brought my sup
per out here to me when I asked for it.”
“ That's good. But from to-morrow on I have ar-
ranged with the manager that you are to eat in the
factory mess room, or else in the village inn. You
are to mix in with the workingmen and pay particu-
lar attention to men of unusual size."
“Pay particular attention to big men? All right,
sir.” Karl's face showed great interest, but he did
not dare to ask any further questions.
1y. Thered for itj on I ha in the


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 101
“And now you can go to bed," said Hartmann,
“and remember it is only you who must clean my
clothes and shoes. The others must not see them at
all.”
Karl bowed and left the room. When alone, Hart-
mann began to undress. When he had taken off his
coat and vest and his boots, his figure was much
shorter and less ample. And when he had finally
laid off a costly diamond ring and a handsome scarf
pin, Joseph Muller stood there in all his own un-
obtrusive humbleness. He slipped on a dressing-
gown, turned off the electric light, and parting the
curtains of one of the windows he looked out into
the darkness. When his eyes had grown accustomed
to the gloom, he could see the level outlines of the
moor stretching away into the distance beyond the
bushes on the other side of the road, and to the right
a few groups of trees and some of the out-buildings
of the factory completed the skyline.
“What a pity!” he thought. “What a great pity
that I didn't hear about this man with the black cord
before to-night. My two years in the South lost me
several interesting things, but I suppose I needed the
rest. No, I don't agree with my charming hostess
as to the fact that this black cord man is one of the
workingmen. The sense of humor shown in the
airing of the villa and the building of the snow figure
it not usual among men of that class. And then this
unheard-of recklessness in so impudently leaving his
traces behind him from case to case! I suppose I
will be able to see one of these bits of cord. Any-
way it's exceedingly interesting. And this last mys-
tery is the most interesting of all. I wonder if there
is any connection here? Nobody mentioned the Er-
lach case to-night — but it probably won't be diffi-
cult to get them to talk about it.”


102 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
At this stage in his meditation, Muller devoted his
attention again to the landscape. Then he went to
bed.
“The idea of the black cord is really delicious —
most romantic,” he murmured once more before he
went to sleep, “but it's too reckless. This man will
hang himself with a bit of his own cord before long."


CHAPTER VIII
MIDNIGHT IN THE GREEN HOUSE
MR. HARTMANN began his studies in the factory the
very next day. The bookkeeper Bauer had been ap-
pointed his guide, and showed him all the rooms in the
establishment, describing the various stages of the
process with considerable intelligence. The man
knew his business thoroughly and Plöhn had already
spoken of him to his guest as a faithful and capable
employee. But Bauer himself, as a man, was ex-
tremely unattractive and the impression of distaste
gained by Hartmann the evening before was increased
by a further acquaintance with the bookkeeper. Bauer
was tall, and fairly well-built. The somewhat too
heavy lines of his figure gave an impression of great
strength. But his repulsive face, and his bad table
manners, were as disagreeable as was his constant in-
clination to bring up only unpleasant matters in his
conversation. Muller wondered that the rest of the
company did not seem to notice this. Then he real-
ized that they were accustomed to it from seeing Bauer
almost daily for several years. Also that they were
willing to overlook the man's disagreeable qualities
because of his other good traits. When the detective
found a moment to talk it over with the General Man-
ager, he discovered that Bauer was one of the orig-
inals of whom Plöhn had spoken the evening before.
“ He's the most prosaic man you could imagine,
ordinarily," said the manager. “ But I happen to
have discovered that he writes poems in secret and
103


104 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
sends flowers to a lady, whom he loves equally se-
cretly and without any hope whatever. It is the con-
trast between his ordinarily prosaic nature, his com-
plete lack of attraction, and this secret sentimentality,
which seems to be beyond his control, that makes him
such an original. It makes him somewhat ridicu-
lous, I must confess. I know he is not an agreeable
table companion, but we overlook it because of his
other good qualities and because the poor man is so
alone in the world.”
Muller didn't ask who the other originals were and
he was not particularly interested in the matter at the
moment. The house and all those within interested
him only as headquarters from which to pursue his
investigations. Once Lieutenant Erlach had put him
in charge of the affair, he had taken the keys of the
Green House, and had obtained from the local author-
ities a promise that nothing should be changed in the
entire place until he wished it done. This was not a
usual proceeding, but then Muller was not the usual
sort of detective. And the police in and around Vi-
enna knew that it was worth while to let him go his
own way in any case he had undertaken.
Everything was done that could make the investi-
gation easier for him this time. A high police offi-
cial introduced him to Baron Stein, the owner of the
brick factory, and made it possible for him to enter
the manager's house in the role of Robert Hartmann
the Polish landed proprietor. The Baron himself
suggested his living in the pavilion, because right near
it there was a small door in the garden wall through
which he could go in and out without being seen.
He asked for the key from his host, on the pretext of
not disturbing the family in his comings and goings,
and he soon made use of it.
The day after his arrival was a Sunday. He spent
the morning in the factory and in the afternoon he


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 105
went out for a solitary walk. His path led him past
the Green House. He made a thorough examination
of the avenue of trees and followed it up in the di-
rection in which the man seen by Stillinger had gone.
The end of this short arbored road led out onto one
of the two main highroads which crossed the Black
Moor. It was the road known as Laxenburg Avenue,
shaded by ancient trees which shed their leaves heav-
ily in the autumn wind. It was a very ancient street,
but not altogether a favorite one because of the lone-
liness of the country through which a greater part of
its length led. At either end of this arched avenue
were the royal castles Laxenburg and Schönbrunn.
Did the man whom Stillinger had seen go down this
avenue or did he turn off into one of the side roads
which crossed it? One of these led to the factory,
another to the second highroad, and a third to a
mill on the river. And each of these side roads had
presumably several forks. One thing only was cer-
tain. That was that the man in the fog had gone
first towards the southwest. This direction would
lead him, if he continued in it, past a little shallow
pond surrounded by bushes, which lay between the
Erlach property and Laxenburg Avenue. Muller
stood on the edge of this pond, gazing down into the
water. It lay so thickly hidden between its fringe of
bushes that the wind scarcely ruffled its surface.
The detective stood looking at the dark, silent stretch
of water. “ Now in case that man had been carrying
Erlach - the murdered Erlach — in his arms when
he first heard the shout behind him, he may have left
the body by the wayside and gone back for it later;"
he pondered. “But he didn't put it in this pond."
And again he looked down at the water plants which
showed just below the surface over the entire expanse
of the little pool. Then he took up a heavy stone
and threw it into the water. He could see it quite


106 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
of my he? That's where to come and see heen in Aus-
clearly and was thus certain of the shallowness of the
pond.
He turned away from it back to the Avenue, walked
down to the bridge and then returned in the direction
of the factory. He had almost reached the buildings
when he heard his name called and saw Dr. Maximoff
behind him, waving his hat and hurrying to catch up.
The Russian was on his way to the Plöhn house
and carried an armful of unusually beautiful chrysan-
themums. Muller's sincere admiration of the superb
flowers pleased the other so that he gave him a cordial
invitation to come and see his conservatory.
“It's not very far from here," said the Russian.
“When we pass these bushes we can catch a glimpse
of my house. There, do you see that red roof behind
the trees? That's where I've lived for the last four
years. You must certainly come and see me.”
“I shall be very glad to. Then you've been in Aus-
tria for some time?”
“Oh, I've been here before that even. I studied
in Vienna as so many of my countrymen do, and grew
very fond of the neighborhood.”
“But this particular spot of it can't have very much
attraction for you, apart from Miss Suzanne," said
Hartmann smiling.
The doctor answered with a sigh. “I did not know
Miss Suzanne when I moved here," he said with a
touch of melancholy in his voice. “I came here in
the desire to get away from everything that reminded
me of the short but very happy years of my first mar-
riage. I didn't care where I went. After my wife's
death I left my own country with my little girl, went
to Paris for a while and then came to Vienna. I
looked about for a country home, for my baby is not
strong and I did not want to keep her in the city. My
agent found this little place here, Rose Cottage they
call it. I came and looked at it. The place was


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 107
som ears,
whess,
12
the
pretty and I was so indifferent to everything else that
I scarcely noticed how unattractive the country about
here is.”
“ And now I suppose you notice it less than ever,"
remarked Hartmann good-naturedly.
“ Yes, indeed. Now that I have found Suzanne —
we have been engaged for nearly two months — now
I am happy again. If only nothing happens — to pre-
vent -”
“What do you fear?”
“I fear that something may come between me and
my happiness.”
“ But why should you fear it?" Muller halted
and looked up into the other's melancholy eyes with
true sympathy. Maximoff smiled sadly. “ You may
not know how we Russians are constituted psychic-
ally,” he said. “Either our blood is over-light or
else heavy and black as the storm-night. I am not
of the first type, I think I can be merry with others
for a time, but I cannot shake off my natural melan-
choly. But really," he continued in a lighter tone,
“this is selfish of me and it can't interest you. And
I see Suzanne and the children waving to us from the
window. Let us hurry to greet them.”
“ Where's your little girl?” asked Muller as they
walked on more quickly.
Maximoff explained that Sonya had taken a slight
cold yesterday and that he was afraid to bring her
out. His face softened and his eyes shone in ten-
derness as he spoke of his little girl, and the soft-
hearted detective felt a warm wave of sympathy for
this good-looking and attractive man. The Russian
seemed to reciprocate it and the men parted at the door
apparently the best of friends.
During the conversation that evening, Muller man-
aged cleverly to bring the talk around to the topic
which interested him most. And without anyone no-
day annoftened his li


108 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
ticing his management of it, he soon had them all dis-
cussing the Erlach case. He pretended to have heard
nothing whatever about it and he showed an interest
that flattered the ladies into giving him all possible
detail. After he had been informed as to the disap-
pearance of old Erlach from within his locked room,
the men of the party had something to say as to the
character of this eccentric, elderly bachelor. They
both agreed on the fact that Leopold Erlach was a to-
tally uninteresting personality. Maximoff, who said
that he occasionally went to the Green House to play
chess with its owner, had some amusing anecdotes to
tell about the pettiness of the other's outlook on life,
which was oddly combined with considerable personal
arrogance.
“But the authorities have evidently not given up
hope of bringing some light into this mystery,” con-
tinued the Russian. “For our constable, whom I
met this afternoon, told me that an experienced de-
tective was expected shortly from the city to take
charge of the case.”
“That's a good idea," said Mrs. Plöhn. “It struck
me they were giving it up very quickly.”
“But when no one else has discovered anything
after two weeks of research, I don't see how a new
detective is going to help,” remarked Suzanne.
“No. If there was any clue to be found at first,
all traces of it are probably gone by this time."
“ And the criminal himself has had quite sufficient
time to cover all his tracks," said Hartmann, who was
playing with the little boy on his knee. “I wonder,"
he added casually, “ whether the occurrences of which
you told me yesterday have any connection with this
last mystery?”
“Whether the man with the black cord had a hand
in it, you mean?” said Plöhn. “ It might be — but


IIO THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
sary caution in a house that was so carefully closed
at its entrances. And besides, as the event that had
happened there proved, there was some way of getting
in and out of this room otherwise than through the
doors and windows.
Then Muller sat down at the desk and began to
examine the bundles of letters and papers in all of its
drawers. Those papers the age of which were shown
in their yellowing edges, he laid carefully back in
their place. His time and his interest were given to
the more recent correspondence, which was very
scanty. There were a few letters from Paul Erlach,
written in a formal style. Not a single letter con-
tained a request for money nor a word of thanks for
any gift. In spite of his financial difficulties, the
young officer had never asked his uncle for help and
the latter had never volunteered assistance. There
were a few business letters and some bills and two
or three in a woman's hand which were signed
“ Eva.” “Your grateful Eva.”
“Aha! then there is someone, and a woman at that,
who has reason to be grateful to this old egoist,"
thought Muller, as he read through Eva's letters.
There were just thirteen of them. But they told him
little. This Eva was evidently a person of education,
but the letters were so very formal, stiff and cold, that
they threw no further light on her mentality. The
contents of all were exactly alike. She wrote each
time to acknowledge the receipt of some gift and to
express her thanks for it. But she did not mention
clearly in any letter what this gift was, and there was
something forced and reluctant about her thanks.
The last drawer that Muller opened contained note-
books carefully ordered, each one of them dated with
the beginning and end of the period over which the
memoranda extended. Muller began to read the two
upper ones of the pile.


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD III
III
SIS.
There were figures for every day, even for the
smallest expenditures. The last book contained mem-
oranda beginning with the first of March and ending
with the gth of September. And on the first of each
month below the item noted as “Wages for Mrs.
Tonner” came another, “Twenty crowns for E."
The old gentleman, for some reason unknown to any-
one else, had sent twenty crowns every month to this
Eva, whose cool letter of thanks might mean either
a cold heart or a very youthful mind unused to ex-
pressing its thoughts.
Muller found this matter rather interesting. But
he soon came to something that was even more so.
In an older book, one which bore the dates of June ist
to the end of December of a year back, Mr. Erlach
had made up a summary of his entire fortune which
was invested in stocks and bonds. Muller carried
in his pocket a copy of the official list of what had
been found in the safe. He took it out now and com-
pared Erlach's own list with the one made by the po-
lice on the roth of September. There was something
wrong there, something decidedly wrong. Papers to
the value of at least twenty thousand crowns were
missing from his safe. And in none of the note-
books of a later date was there any memoranda of the
change in investment or any other disposal of the
sum. And yet Erlach had written down every half
pound of butter, every bag of salt that came into
his house.
Muller leaned forward, resting his head in his
hands, while he pondered deeply on this matter. Sud-
denly he started. He thought he had heard the clos-
ing of a door and yet he realized it might have been
only the creaking of a bough outside, or a turn of the
rusty weathercock.
The detective rose softly from his seat and listened.
Then he put out his left hand to catch the lantern and
in investmate was there in none of


II2
112 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
within the was moorwards
took his revolver with the right. There was no mis-
take possible now. Someone was moving in the hall.
Muller had left the key in the inside of the sitting-
room door, a key on a ring from which hung several
others. The detective's eyes watched the flickering
of light which these keys threw out in the faint gleam
of his lantern. Then he moved forward slowly and
listened again. Someone was moving out in the hall.
It was so quiet within the heavy-walled old house that
even the gentlest sound could be plainly heard.
Muller had reached the study door by this time and
again he stood, listening. The corridor was about
fifteen yards long, three rooms opening on it from
either side. The door to Erlach's bedroom was the
center door on that side of the house. Whoever it
was outside there, creeping so softly through the hall,
was now standing in front of that bedroom door. A
hand turned the knob. Muller took his revolver in
his left hand while with his right he quickly turned
the key and swung the study door open. But the
hanging bunch of keys rattled betrayingly, and he who
stood outside had quick ears. As the detective pulled
the door open a tall figure glided past him towards the
front of the house.
“ Stop right there or I'll shoot,” called Muller, but
the man did not stop. He flung open the front glass
door and dashed down the five steps leading to the
ground. Muller was equally quick in pursuit and
fired as he ran. But the man gave no sign of having
been hit, and did not lessen his pace in the slightest.
The sharp light of two electric beams threw his quick
moving shadow along the ground, for he carried a
lantern also. Muller fired a second time, but just as
he did so, the man ahead of him made a quick dive
around the corner of the house. As Muller followed
him in this direction, something hard struck him on
the head and dazed him for a moment. But he was


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 113
not injured and took up his pursuit in a second or
two. The slight pause, however, was sufficient to
enable the other to dash through the garden door and
disappear in the blackness outside.
The detective stood by the gate peering out in all
directions, but the night was absolutely dark and the
blackness was impenetrable beyond the ray of his lan-
tern. He closed the door with the key which he found
on the outside and then put it in his pocket. On his
way back to the house, he found the object that had
hit him on the head. It was a little lantern of un-
usually fine and costly workmanship. He took this in
too. Both the front doors had been unlocked from the
outside. The keys were still in the locks. Muller
closed them and put both the keys with the others in
his pocket.
Then he let the light of his own lantern move over
every foot of the floor in the corridor. He saw sev-
eral new footprints there, the wet earth still clinging
to some of them. He recognized his own footprints
and beside them were enormous tracks that he had
not seen there before. Muller drew a deep breath;
his eyes shone with the gleam that came into them
when he was on the trail.
But he did not stay in the hall, he went back into
the study, locked it carefully and from there passed
on into the bedroom. The first thing he did here was
to fasten a tablecloth up over one window and a bed-
spread over the other. He was not at all anxious that
anybody from outside should see him through a pos-
sible crack in the shutters. For he knew that his
life wasn't worth much after what had happened, and
then besides he wished to be left to work undisturbed.
He took his seat on a comfortable armchair near the
door that led to the corridor, and pulled a little flask
from his pocket. After a hearty drink, he rubbed a
lump that was growing on his head, and then lit a ci-


114 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
gar. Then finally he disposed himself to meditate
over this unexpected night visitor.
“Who could it have been?” he said. “ Could it
have been the same person who underscored those
three words in the book in the next room there?”
Those words “He was here” had not seemed to
mean anything to the local authorities. And Muller
himself had been able to find no fitting explanation
for them until he heard the story of the man with the
black cord. Even then it meant no clue which led to
anything. Who had underscored these words? Er-
lach himself when he saw his life threatened? Or his
murderer? But why should Erlach do such a thing?
The incident had no sense to it unless it had been
written by the other. For this Other might have in-
tended thus to notify the authorities, who were so un-
able to cope with him, that he was the terrible Un-
known who kept them all in fear and terror for years,
that he had been in this room, and had given them
another uncanny riddle to solve.
“ Who was it who was here a few moments back?"
Muller asked himself again and again. It was not
Leopold Erlach, of that he was certain. Leopold Er-
lach was small and slight and this man was of un-
usual size. A man may increase his height and his
breadth by a disguise, but he cannot change the length
of his stride. No man under middle height could
take the steps left as a clear trail by the fleeing un-
known. And no old man could move with such
haste. It had not been Leopold Erlach, even if the
latter were still alive.
“Of course it may have been an ordinary thief
who managed to get the three keys and thought this
a good chance to plunder an empty house," said the
detective to himself. But this idea didn't seem right
to him. He was glad he had forgotten to bar the
garden door through which he entered himself. For


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 115
if this had been done the unknown would have real-
ized that there was someone in the house and would
not have come. The man, whoever it was, seemed
to know the locality, and went directly to the bed-
room. What could he want in this room? He must
know that all valuables, as well as the contents of the
safe, had been removed to the police courts. Was
there some clue, some trace of his presence that he
may have remembered leaving, and that he wanted
to take away?
The detective asked himself all these questions,
while his eyes wandered slowly over every inch of the
room. He knew that the bedchamber had been thor-
oughly examined by the local police several times.
Every inch of the wall and floor had been sounded,
the larger pictures and the mirror had been taken
from the walls in search of a possible secret door.
The bed had been dragged out from the wall, but
had not otherwise been disturbed. It was impossible
that Erlach could be concealed in the bed anywhere.
For although the wooden part of the structure was
very old, the spring and mattress were new and mod-
ern.
On Muller's first visit to the house he also had ex-
amined the room very carefully. But he had not seen
anything beyond what the others had found. He
knew now however that there was something more
to be seen, something which he must find, something
which brought this nightly visitor to the door.
Suddenly the veteran detective rose with a start,
while a crimson wave of blood shot up over his face
to the very roots of his hair. One of his sudden in-
tuitive flashes had illumined his brain. He had real-
ized that all the colors in this room were dark.
From the browns of the inlaid floor up to the paler
ceiling everything was dark. The furniture was of
ebony and the picture frames, heavily carved, of the


116 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
same wood. The wall paper was of a dark shade
which had grown deeper with years. The light ceil-
ing and the white coverings of the bed were all that
brought brightness into the room. Muller's eyes now
rested on the old-fashioned woodwork of the bed
structure, its richly carved high head and foot boards.
On top of the head board, two little angels, carved
out of the black wood, leaned forward as if to look
down on the one who should sleep there. With their
little fat fingers they held fast to a rococo railing
which formed a border for the heavier carving of the
solid wood below. It was this railing and its many
corners and curves that now attracted Muller's eyes.
A faint memory of something seen before but only
half noticed, came back to his mind.
It seemed to him that when he first saw this bed
he had casually noticed that the lines of the pretty
composition at its top were not quite clear. It was
this memory that now sent a searchlight flash through
his brain. He stood with the light of his lantern
thrown full on the carving, and his tightly closed lips
parted in a smile. His free hand carefully disen-
gaged the black cord which was twisted about the
black carving, the cord left there by an incredibly au-
dacious criminal.
Then Muller examined his latest discovery. The
cord was about ten inches long, evidently a bit cut
off of a larger piece. The strands were loosening on
either end. The cord was made of braided horsehair
and was about as heavy as a large steel knitting
needle.
“ That's what he was after,” said Muller aloud.
And then he wondered mildly whether the man who
escaped was not likely to be waiting outside on the
moor until he himself should come out. If he were,
there would probably be heard the sound of a shot
through the night, or safer still, there would be the



“Muller examined his latest discovery".
(p. 116)


CCCC


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 117
quick thrust of a knife, and the man with the black
cord would no longer have to fear the only foe who
was as brave and as clever as he was himself. But
Muller, who though fearless was not reckless, decided
that there was no necessity of running into such an
avoidable danger when he could easily pass the rest
of the night in the Green House. He looked at his
watch and found it to be just twelve o'clock.
Having nothing else to do the detective turned to
another examination of the bed. The first time he
had seen it, on the 20th of September, he was al-
ready convinced that that bed had not been slept in
on the night of the 9th. But he knew that some one
had lain down on it for a few moments, lain down in
his clothes and his shoes. He discovered this through
the magnifying glass with which he had thoroughly
examined the sheets and the coverings. The glass
showed him infinitesimal bits of earth on the white
surface. And these soiled spots were very near the
front of the bed, at the place where the coverlet had
been found thrown back. Muller was sure that some-
body had lain on that bed with his knees drawn up,
and that the soles of his boots had come into contact
with the clean sheet. Whoever it was had been care-
ful to brush away all the stains except the few micro-
scopic bits which no one had noticed. The top pillow
still held the pressure of a head and the sheets showed
the folds into which they were thrown by the body
resting there.
But at the lower end of the bed there was not a sin-
gle fold to be seen. Whoever had lain there had not
stretched himself out comfortably as a man naturally
would when sleeping in his accustomed bed. Why
had the unknown criminal desired to give the bed the
appearance of having been slept in? For no other
reason possibly than simply to give an added touch
of mystery to the affair.


118 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
And all of the clothes which Erlach had worn
through the day on the 9th of September were miss-
ing. Muller knew by this time that the old man had
not yet gone to bed when he was attacked. This cor-
responded with Karl Tonner's report that he had seen
a light in Erlach's room when he had entered the gar-
den. The lamp hung above the desk in the study, and
the study shutters were not closed, so that the light
could easily be seen from outside.
While pondering all this, Muller made himself com-
fortable in the corner of a big sofa, settling down for
the rest of the night. But he had not sat there long
before he raised his head again and listened.
Again he heard someone moving, outside the house
this time. He stood up, closed his lantern, took his
revolver and moved softly out into the corridor.
When he reached the front door he looked out through
the glass and could dimly see the figure of a man wait-
ing there.
The man moved, pressed the knob of the outer iron
gate and shook it. Finding this of no avail, he put
his arm through the bars and knocked on the glass
pane.
Then Muller knew who it was and turned the light
of his lantern full on the face outside, as he opened
the door.
“What are you doing here?” he asked in surprise,
as Karl Tonner slipped hastily through the opening.
“ Thank goodness, you're all right,” murmured
Karl, wiping his face. “ I thought sure he'd shot you."
“ Who had ?”
“ The man I met as I ran up here."
“Where did you meet him?"
“ About one hundred paces outside the gate, at the
end of the Avenue. He suddenly jumped out from
behind a tree and ran off over the moor.”
“ Did you call after him?"


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 119
“ Yes! 'Stop, you rascal!' I cried. You see I
heard the shots and saw him running away.”
“ Did you climb over the wall again ? ” asked Mul-
ler when they were back in the bedroom, and he was
gathering up the trophies of his evening's work.
Karl nodded an affirmative.
“ You didn't call my name, did you?”
“Oh, no."
“Well, we can go now. Even if he should have
come back, he won't dare to attack two of us."
Muller locked the front doors carefully, thinking
that the Unknown would not be able to get into the
house again as it was scarcely possible he would
have duplicate keys. Then the detective opened
his lantern and let it move over the ground in front
of the door and up the path. There were a number
of tracks to be seen in the soft earth. Muller rec-
ognized his own footprints and Karl's, and beside them
the traces of an enormous foot, at astonishingly wide
intervals. He stooped to examine one of them. It
was a very odd track, having none of the usual out-
lines of a boot sole. It was just one big even oblong,
rounded off a little at either end.
“He's wearing overshoes," said the detective.
“Not rubber shoes, either, for these have very char-
acteristic soles and can be recognized at once. This
man is much too clever for that. He chooses felt
slippers or something of that sort. It's a very good
idea, an excellent idea, one reason the less to fear dis-
covery."
Muller straightened up and put out his light even
before they came to the corner of the house.
“Now watch out well,” he said in a whisper to
Karl," and stay close beside me. Take this leaded
cane and if we should be attacked and you can get at
him, try to hit his legs. But don't make a mistake
and hit mine instead.”


120 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
Then they went forward through the blackness.
But the eye grows accustomed even to such darkness,
and when Muller had locked the garden gate behind
them he could already distinguish the outlines of the
tall old trees.
Once outside, the two men set out on a strange
wandering about the moor, going now to the right,
now to the left, then back again, stopping now to
listen, creeping forward again. Finally after nu-
merous twistings and turnings and zig-zaggings they
came back to the little gate that led them into the gar-
den of their present home. Before Karl opened this
gate they both listened and looked in all directions.
Then when they were quite certain that there was no
one within sight or hearing they slipped quickly
through and into the pavilion. They went to bed in
the darkness. For if anyone outside on the moors
should have been following or watching their wan-
dering, it would not be wise to let him see light at
that hour in the little house inhabited by Mr. Hart-
mann and his valet.
Muller lay awake for some time, going over all the
impressions he had received during this eventful night.
Of one thing he was certain, a certainty which thrilled
him with pleasurable excitement. He knew now that
the person concerned in the Erlach mystery was the
same clever, cynical, reckless rascal who had kept the
entire neighborhood in terror for the last three years.
And Muller was certain of something else too.
The Unknown was not one of the factory workers.
The peculiar style and evident costliness of the little
lantern that had come into his possession in so un-
pleasant a manner, was a proof that the man who had
thrown it at him did not belong to the working class.
And as the Unknown, fleeing before him, had opened
the front door of the house, the light of Muller's lan-
tern fell on his hand. All the detective could see was


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 121
that the hand was covered by a glove of soft, reddish-
brown leather. He could get no correct impression
as to the size or structure of the hand itself.
“Anyway it's not the custom among factory work-
ingmen to wear kid gloves. In fact, it's not a usual
thing for criminals accustomed to such nightly ex-
cursions to wear gloves anyway,” said Muller to him-
self. Then he suddenly sat up in bed. Although he
was already growing old, the veteran detective was
young in heart and spirit, and he never lost the acute-
ness of the shock when one of his flashing thoughts
came to him. This was one:
“Does this super-intelligent, this quite extraordi-
narily clever villain, always wear gloves when he is
doing something whereby the impression of the skin
of his fingers might leave a fatal clue? He must be
familiar with criminal proceedings and know how.
important that point is.”
But in spite of a sleepless night, Muller was up
early the next morning. Karl was awake still earlier,
and stood ready with the heavy-wadded vest and coat
which gave his slender employer Mr. Hartmann's
comfortable embonpoint. When Muller had finished
dressing, he said to Karl: “You know what you are
to do to-day?”
Tonner bowed: “Yes, Mr. Muller.”
“Mr. Muller ? ” repeated the detective sharply.
“ Mr. Hartmann, sir,” the young man answered
with a smile.
Muller's glance was still sharp. “My dear young
man, it is no laughing matter that we are engaged on
here. You may have noticed that last night, when
you proved yourself worthy of my confidence. Both
you and I must be careful in everything we say and
do, for we are here on very serious business. And it
would be well for you to look a little more seriously
at life if you ever want to make anything worth while


122 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
of your existence. And now once more: do you
know what you are to do?”
“Yes, sir," said Karl, now quite grave. “I am to
clean off all traces of the nightly expedition, to lock
up the clothes you wore last night and then to look
about the neighborhood and talk with people about
the occurrences in the Green House. I am to take
dinner at the Inn in Inzersdorf and need not return
here, to-day at least, until about four o'clock.”
“ Good. And one thing more. I am not so much
interested, not as much as I was yesterday, in very
large men or in men of the working class.”
"I thought so," said Karl lightly.
Muller looked up quickly. “ Why do you think
that?”
“Because the man who shot at you yesterday —”
Muller started to interrupt, then concluded that he
wouldn't. Karl needn't know everything —"is not
an ordinary workingman.”
“And why do you think that?"
“ From the way he spoke.”
“You heard him speak?”.
“Yes. As he ran past me I heard him say, not
very loud though, 'devilish adventure this!' That
was all I heard.”
"And you didn't tell me that before now? I
thought you were an intelligent man!”
“ Should I have told you right away?”
“Yes — yes — of course. That's most important.
You are to tell me everything you see or hear at once.
You are to tell me if you hear a fly hum and think it
could be of any use to me in my work." Muller's
sentence ended in a smile in which Karl joined.
“ And one, thing more,” continued the detective.
" You are to take an interest in men's gloves of dark
reddish-brown leather. And you must still watch


124 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
enormous feet of unusual shape. Muller recognized
them as the same footprints he had seen that night in
the Erlach garden.
“So he followed us after all,” murmured the de-
tective. And the discovery did not contribute to his
ease of mind.


CHAPTER IX
MULLER VISITS EVA GEIRINGER
MULLER's intention was to utilize this day in search-
ing for “ Eva.” He went to his own house first
to ask Mrs. Tonner whether she knew anything that
would aid him in this matter, as well as in the mystery
of the missing twenty thousand crowns...
It certainly was strange that the miserly old man
who, as Dr. Maximoff said, wept in emotion at his
own generosity when he gave a beggar a copper
piece, should have sent this “Eva” twenty crowns
every month. His heart had opened to her it seemed.
Muller wanted to see this “Eva " personally to find
out whether the larger sum, the twenty thousand
crowns, might have found their way to her also.
Even the most miserly of elderly bachelors are gen-
erous sometimes, or have to be when it is a case of
preserving their reputation.
Mrs. Tonner was overjoyed to see her employer.
He set her mind at rest at once by a good report as to
her son's welfare and present conduct. Then he pro-
ceeded to the matter in hand.
“Do you know anything about a woman by the
name of Eva, who stood in some relation to Erlach?”
“ No."
“And you do not know that he sent money away
the first of every month?”
“I didn't know that it happened every month. But
once, about a year ago, I had to go to the postoffice
with it myself and make out the money order.”
“Do you remember the name?”
125


126 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
“No. I scarcely even looked at it and forgot it
immediately. Mr. Erlach was sick, which gave me a
great deal more work than usual, and just at that
time I was particularly worried about Karl. I hadn't
head for anything except my most necessary duties.”
“Too bad. Do you remember what month it
was?”
“Yes, I remember that. It was in October.”
“Well, it will be easy to find the address at the
Inzersdorf postoffice. Don't worry about cooking
dinner for me. I am going right out again.”
“Oh, I've just thought of something,” said Mrs.
Tonner.
Muller had already started to leave the room but
he turned back and sat down again, looking inquir-
ingly at her.
"Mr. Erlach was quite well again before Christ-
mas and asked me to go to the city with him one
day,” began the woman. “He said he wanted new
underwear and he was afraid to buy it alone for fear
he would be cheated. So he took me with him and
from something that happened I believe he had a secret
errand which was the main reason for his going to the
city.”
“ Tell me. It may be of importance.”
“ The first thing I noticed was that he didn't take
his own carriage to go to the city as usual. We went
in the train instead, and took a cab at the station. He
left me at the store where I was to buy the underwear
and told me that he had some errands in a distant part
of the city. He would be back in an hour and I was
to wait for him in front of the shop. I finished my
errand in about twenty minutes and as the day was
pleasant I took a little walk down the street. A block
or two beyond I passed a barroom out of which a
boy was bringing a glass of beer for a driver whose
turnout stood in front of the door. By merest


128 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
Mrs. Tonner did not think it was, because she had
not noticed her companion carrying anything. The
package must have been in his coat pocket.
An hour later Muller's carriage stood before the
house in Linden Street and he himself mounted
the stairs to the third floor. On one of the many
doors on this landing he saw the name of the woman
he sought. He knocked at the door and it was opened
by an elderly woman, poorly but neatly clad. Muller
inquired whether Miss Geiringer was at home. The
woman smiled sadly and answered: “Oh, yes, she's
at home.”
“May I speak to her ?” he asked again.
And again the woman answered, with sadness in
her face and voice: “Yes, you can see her to-day."
“Evidently the young lady is not always in the
mood to receive visitors,” thought Muller as he en-
tered the small, dark vestibule. The whole look of
the place was totally different from what he expected,
and when the woman went off to announce him, he
looked about carefully. Signs of poverty were every-
where, but poverty combined with exquisite neatness
and the ability to make the best of every little thing.
The tiny little kitchen into which the vestibule opened
was bright and cheery, and, as well as the hall, was
spotlessly clean.
“Will you please come in, sir,” said the woman, re-
turning and holding the door open.
Muller entered a small, sunny room, furnished with
the greatest possible simplicity, but cozy and homelike
in spite of it. In front of the window was a large
table and beside it a great soft armchair. In the chair
sat a thin, faded, little woman whose face seemed
shrunken with its many wrinkles. Only the great
gray eyes still showed signs of life, and traces of
former prettiness.


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 129
“You are Miss Geiringer ? " asked Muller bowing.
“I see you are not feeling well to-day and I'm afraid
I have disturbed you. Shall I not come some other
time?"
“I have not been well for thirty years, sir,” an-
swered the lady, with a gentle smile in which was a
hint of roguishness. “And I hardly think you will
care to wait until I am well again. So if there is any-
thing that you have to say to me, Mr. — ?"
“My name is Muller."
“ Then will you please take a seat, Mr. Muller, and
tell me what it is ? '
The other woman brought up a second chair to the
table, and Muller sat down in it. On the table were
heaps of materials and instruments for making arti-
ficial flowers. Miss Geiringer laid aside the rose she
had just finished and folded her delicately shaped
hands wearily in her lap. The other woman left the
room.
Muller was still dazed from the unexpected ad-
venture. The Eva he had thought to find was some-
thing very different. Without knowing why, he had
half expected to see a pretty young woman, possibly
of doubtful reputation, and now he found himself
sitting opposite an elderly invalid of the utmost re-
spectability. He pulled himself together, readjusted
himself to his surroundings and explained the reason
for his visit. He introduced himself as a friend of
Leopold Erlach and asked permission to put several
important questions to the lady. .
The mention of Erlach's name threw Miss Geiringer
into considerable excitement. “Oh, don't they know
anything about him yet?” she exclaimed clasping her
hands. “Is he dead? Has he been murdered ?”
“ You know then? ” asked Muller.
She nodded. “I saw it in the papers a kind neigh-
of doublected to see a Without kne to find was
spectabi pposite station, and young womwhy, he has
He olderly inval he found possibly


130 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
bor brought me,” she said. “I know that Leo — that
Mr. Erlach has disappeared most inexplicably from
his house, or has been taken away from there."
“Leo — that sounds rather intimate,” thought Mul-
ler, “and quite different from the formality of her
letters." But what he said aloud was: “Mr. Erlach
has not yet been found. But this conversation is
fatiguing you. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“No, thank you,” she murmured, straightening up
again in her cushions. “I must try and control my-
self. You think there is anything I can tell you about
Mr. Erlach?”
“Yes, I think there is.”
“You mean something that has to do with his dis-
appearance?"
* Possibly. From letters that were found in his
desk we discovered that he corresponded with you.”
“They found my letters? Only my letters of
thanks? Or should he have still kept the — others ? "
A delicate rose flush illumined the faded cheeks and
a soft smile curved the pale lips.
Muller saw during this smile that the fragile invalid
still had very beautiful teeth. He answered gently:
“ The only letters that were found were those dated
during the past year. There were a number of bun-
dles of older letters there, but they were not ex-
amined.”
Miss Geiringer's face was pale and still as before.
“ He sent me twenty crowns each month since
August of the previous year,” she said softly. “It
was an alms, but it came with a few kind words each
time and I was obliged to accept it, for I can do very
little work now and we would have gone hungry many
a day but for that.” Her voice trembled and she
put her hand to her eyes. Then she continued in
growing excitement: “My sister sews for a large
shop and rents the best room in our flat. I, as you


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 131
see, make these flowers. We manage to get along
somehow, but if we have to pay the doctor and the
apothecary it goes hard with us. I have been help-
less for many years and I know that of course I could
find a place in the Home for Incurables. But I shud-
der at the thought and my sister knows what it would
mean to me to have to go there. She is too good to
send me to such a place, although people tell her that
she is foolish to have to work so hard just to keep me
here. Is it not my duty therefore to accept this
charity, which makes things a little easier for her?”
“ Dear lady, please don't excite yourself, I'm afraid
it will be bad for you," said Muller sympathetically.
“Why should you not take the help that was offered
you? We were only surprised that Erlach should
have been so charitable. How did it happen that he
opened his heart to you, and you alone?”
The old lady wiped the tears from her eyes and
said in a firmer tone: “Oh, yes, you do not know
then in what relation we stood to one another? I was
engaged to him— thirty years ago.”
“Ah, indeed! And yet they say that there was no
woman in his life?”
“I am telling you the truth and have letters to
prove it. I am still, as you see, wearing the ring he
gave me in an unforgetable hour. Erlach then was
a warm-hearted sincere man, although he changed
sadly later. I was poor. He found a richer and
more beautiful woman who claimed his interest.
When I saw that his heart turned to her, I broke our
engagement myself.”
“ But he did not marry the other woman?”
"No," said Miss Geiringer, with a bitter smile.
“ He was ready to marry her, but she found someone
else who had more money than he and whom she
liked better. He came back to me then, but I would
not have him. We were both sentimental in those


132 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
days though, and we did not give back our letters nor
the rings we had exchanged. And so you see I'm
old-fashioned enough to still keep his letters — but
they won't do you any good in your investigation.
For the Erlach who wrote those letters is long since
dead.”
“ But how do you know that, if you haven't seen
him for so long?"
“I heard indirectly through people who live in his
neighborhood that he had become hard and narrow-
minded, making no friends and seeking none."
“Yes, that seems to have been the case.”
“In the same way, without any desire of mine,
news of our situation came to his ears and he has
been sending me this money ever since.”
She sat staring out into the room, her hands pressed
close together and great tears rolling unhindered
down her cheeks. Muller understood now why her
letters of thanks had been so cold and formal. It
must have been very hard for her to take this money
from the man whose wife she was to have been. But
she had had to take it, for hunger is painful, and still
more terrible was her dread of the Home for Incur-
ables with all its surroundings of hopeless misery.
And Erlach's pettiness of heart and mind was shown
clearly by this meagre gift, which out of his plenty
he had sent to the woman he once had loved. “ Prob-
ably he wept at his own generosity every time he
sent the money,” thought Muller, a feeling of utter
contempt in his heart for the man in whose interest
he was busying himself. He felt nothing but sincer-
est pity for Miss Geiringer; he could understand what
her life had been the last thirty years, in sickness and
poverty. His face showed his feelings so clearly that
the invalid's great soft eyes grew bright again and
she held out her frail little hand to him.
“ What will you think of me?" she said. “ Here


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 133
you come to me a total stranger and in less than half
an hour I have told you things that very few know.”
“We're like steam engines, dear lady," replied
Muller with a smile of encouragement. “We have
to open the valves sometimes you know. Need I as-
sure you of my sympathy for you?”
“No, I think I can feel it without words. Your
visit is an oasis of brightness in the dreary loneliness
of my life. I am only sorry for the sad reason of
it and I am sorry that I have so little to tell you that
would be of any good for the investigation."
“ Erlach has never been here?”
“No. It was my wish that he should never come.
Even the most unfortunate of us has still a touch of
vanity left, and I could not bear the thought that he
should see me as I am now.”
“ Then I have annoyed you quite uselessly ? ” said
Muller rising from his chair.
Fraulein Geiringer straightened up. “Oh, I have
thought of something,” she said. “He sent me an
extra present last Christmas. It was a reminder of
old times, and therefore very dear to me. He had
remembered that in those days I was particularly
fond of miniatures. Also he remembered that in
those days I was said to look something like the Em-
press Josephine — with the exception of my eyes."
“And of your teeth,” said Muller smiling. “The
Empress is said to have had very bad teeth, you
know.”
Miss Geiringer flushed again but she continued :
“When we were engaged Erlach showed me a charm-
ing little miniature of the Empress and one of
Napoleon. He had bought them from the collection
of a French nobleman. They are pretty pictures and
oddly framed. Last Christmas he sent me the pic-
ture of the Empress and a silk scarf of antique design.
There was a letter with the present, I will show them


134 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
all to you.” She touched a little bell on her desk
and when her sister came in Eva caught at her hand
and said: “Here, Mr. Muller, is the best sister that
ever lived. She has kept me with her and made a
home for me in spite of everything. I am afraid
now that I will have to go to the asylum after all.”
“Dear little stupid," said the other woman, touching
the invalid's hair gently. Then turning to Muller
with a look of distrust she continued: “Do you come
from there? I know Eva's been writing to the
asylum without letting me know, but I tell you now
she shall not go. She's to stay here with me. I'll
make it possible somehow.”
“No, indeed," said Muller, with a friendly smile
into the eyes of the agitated woman. “Miss Eva
shall stay right on here, and I have a feeling that
things will be a little easier for you now. But I must
be going home. May I see the presents ?”
Eva opened the box her sister brought out. In it
lay a carefully folded silk scarf, the miniature and a
letter. The picture represented Josephine Beauhar-
nais in winter outdoor dress. The frame was odd
and unusual. It was made of pale gold with the
imperial eagle at the top. On its inner side a circle
of tiny pale crystal points, like icicles, surrounded
the painting. It was not altogether attractive. The
only reason for it was possibly the suitability of these
icicles to the winter garments worn by the Empress.
Muller laid down the picture again and took the
letter which Eva handed him.
"My dear Eva: -
“I hope the possession of this picture, which I have always
admired for your sake, will please you. Please accept it, with
this scarf which was once worn by the Empress. As you see
I have not yet forgotten those years of our youth which
brought us together. It was your wish that we should both
remain alone. Was it right? I have forgiven.
“ YOUR LEOPOLD.”


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 135
Muller handed the letter back silently. As Eva
laid it into the box again, a tear fell unnoticed upon
the paper.
“May I come back again if I have anything of im-
portance to tell you?” asked the detective. Both
women assented eagerly. He left them, bearing with
him the impression that he had just made the ac-
quaintance of two unusual natures. It was a com-
pensation for the fact that his visit had, as he be-
lieved, brought him nothing that could be of value
to him in his work.
Mrs. Tonner had dinner ready for him when he
returned. He told her that he had found Eva and
that it was the right Eva.
"Did you know that Erlach possessed two valuable
miniatures, representing Napoleon and Josephine ? ”
“ Yes, indeed. I know the pictures well, one of
them is still in Mr. Erlach's cabinet.”
“I didn't notice it when I was there."
“It's the picture of Napoleon.”
"Yes. It must be, for its companion has not been
there for some months.”
“No, I know that. When I noticed it was missing
I imagined it might have been in the package that Mr.
Erlach sent to Miss Geiringer."
" It was, she showed it to me. They are charming
pictures."
“I was admiring the picture of Napoleon a couple
of days before Mr. Erlach's disappearance," con-
tinued Mrs. Tonner. “We were working together at
cleaning the various valuable curiosities in the glass
cabinet in the sitting room. I remember the picture
particularly and his speaking about it.”
Muller nodded with friendly indifference, his
thoughts elsewhere.
“Now can you please tell me the names of all the
visitors whom you have ever seen in Erlach's house?”


136 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
he began. She was surprised at the question but too
sensible to waste any words. She thought a moment
and mentioned several names, all of which he wrote
down in his book after asking various questions about
each. From what she told him Muller saw that
Erlach had lived very quietly and that few friends or
acquaintances came to his house. He had heard this
also from the missing man's nephew, from the gar-
dener Till, and from Plöhn. Till had told him that
Erlach's last visitor was the representative of an in-
surance company. The man had not entered the
house, however, for Erlach spoke to him in the garden
only for a few moments and then Till had shown him
out again. This was on the 6th of September. Mrs.
Tonner, who had been indoors at the time, knew noth-
ing of this last visitor. The latest person to enter the
house before the disappearance, as far as she knew,
was Dr. Maximoff. The Russian had been there on
the 2nd or 3rd of September, in the afternoon, and
had played chess with Mr. Erlach. The following
day Erlach returned the visit and spent the afternoon
at Rose Cottage.


138 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
it was not easy, for he still did not know in which
direction to make the advance — he still did not know
where to look for the man of whom he had already
made an enemy. His own position was a dangerous
one. And Karl Tonner was in danger too, for if this
unscrupulous rascal realized that Mr. “Hartmann"
was a detective, he might easily imagine Mr. Hart-
mann's servant to be of the same calling. Muller de-
cided that he would send Karl away to a safer place.
“ Anything new?” he asked the young man, as the
latter came to take his hat and overcoat.
Tonner shrugged his shoulders. “I don't know
whether something I saw to-day when I went out is
still unknown to you,” he began.
“ You mean the big footprints outside the wall?”
asked Muller.
“Yes, but I thought you'd probably seen them your-
self."
“ And did you think anything else?”
“Well, I thought, sir, that you had better take
double care not to meet this man again. He might
shoot with better luck next time.”
“You're right - partly right. But I may as well
tell you it wasn't he who fired, it was I. Unfortu-
nately I didn't hit him. It was courageous in you to
come to my help, although I'm afraid it rather in-
terfered with the result of my investigation.”
“Oh, dear, why didn't I stay where I was!” said
Karl. “ I'm afraid I only put you into greater
danger.”
“Oh, no, I'm not so sure about that,” said Muller
kindly. “Only I'm sorry that I shall have to send
you away now, because I might have found you use-
ful for many things.”
Karl's eyes opened wide in alarm. “You're going
to send me away? Oh, why? Oh, please forgive me
for my stupidity — don't send me away - I won't


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 139
go — I'll stay somewhere near you — for it's my fault
that you are in danger now.”
“And how about you? Do you think this mur-
derer will spare you either, now that he knows you
belong to me?"
Karl's face paled. The thought had not occurred
to him. Then he said, in a lower tone: “Is that
the reason you are sending me away ? ” Muller nodded.
The young man's fine eyes flashed fire. “I shan't
go," he cried. “I'm not afraid. And if anything
did happen, what would it matter about me? ”
Muller held out his hand. “ Very well then, we'll
fight together," he said. “ But you must not go un-
armed now. Do you know how to use a revolver?”
“Oh, yes.”
Muller opened his trunk, took out a pistol and
handed it to Karl with a box of ammunition. “ It's
a six shooter and every chamber loaded," he said.
“Of course you understand that you're only to use
it in extreme need. And now that's settled. But you
look as if you wanted to ask a question — well, what
is it?”
Muller sat down comfortably, lit a cigar and offered
Karl one.
“ You said last night the man was partly disguised,"
began young Tonner timidly. “ All I could see was
that he had a hood drawn over his head."
" Quite right. But you only saw him in the dark-
ness. I saw him for a moment in the light of my
lantern. His cloak was brownish. I don't know how
long it was because the light fell upon the upper part
of his body only. The hood was stiff, much higher
than they usually are, and fitted so close to the head
that there wasn't a wrinkle in it. I did not see his
face but I knew from the look of the hood at the back
that it must close altogether or partially in front.
He is masked therefore, and his hood is responsible


140 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
o value. Het was explicit with yourself
for part of his unusual height. That's the reason
why I told you that you need not bother about very
tall men any more. His hood had one other pecu-
liarity also.”
“ What is it? Please tell me.”
“It was cut out over the ears. The man must be
able to hear well. It may possibly have left his mouth
free also. Or did his voice sound muffled ? ”
“I don't think so- but I couldn't really tell.”
“ You couldn't? Oh, well, you'll learn in time.
We can't expect to know everything all at once. Now
tell me what you were doing with yourself to-day?”
Karl's report was explicit, but contained very little
of value. He had been talking with the people of the
village about the various mysterious occurrences, but
what he had heard were garbled, incoherent accounts.
He met the gardener Till and invited him to drink.
Fortunately Till had never seen Karl, for the young
man's few visits to his mother had taken place after
nightfall, and she herself always let him in and out.
He had quite a conversation with the gardener,
chiefly about Mr. Erlach and his disappearance. But
as far as he could see there was nothing of value in
what he had heard.
“He didn't tell me anything new,” concluded Karl.
“ The man was most interested in the doors that were
locked from the inside, and in the three underscored
words in the book. Oh, yes — and he mentioned the
fact that the candle had spattered so and was sur-
prised that it hadn't set anything on fire, because there
was a heavy wind that night and the burning candle
was near the open window. Why, what's the matter
Mr. Muller? Mr. Hartmann I mean,” said Karl,
hastily.
Muller had jumped up from his chair and was
pacing the room with long strides. Back and forth
he went two or three times, then stopped in front of


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 141
the astonished Karl and asked: “It was the last
window he spoke of? The window near which the
table stood ? This window was half opened, he
said?”
“Yes, that was the window, but it wasn't half
open.”
"How was it?"
“The right pane of the outside window and the left
one of the inside were open.”
"Oh, that was it,” murmured Muller and repeated
once more: “Oh, that was it.” A smile flashed
across his quiet face and he walked through the room
once again. Then he stopped in front of one of the
windows and stood for a long time looking out on the
dreary stretch of country beyond, over towards
the old trees of the Laxenburg Avenue to where be-
yond them the pointed dark roof of the Green House
rose amid the foliage. It stood there, quiet and de-
fiant, as if daring the watcher to penetrate its secrets.
And beyond it the sky was a colorless gray. Karl,
further back in the room, stood looking at his em-
ployer with a growing awe and admiration. He was
such a quiet, unassuming little man in mien and bear-
ing and yet how quickly he could make himself the
master of any situation. Karl was learning much in
these days, and he was changing rapidly from the su-
perficial pleasure-loving youth he had been.
Finally Muller turned back to the room, his face
calm as ever. All trace of the excitement into which
the mention of the window had thrown him, was gone.
He went to the cupboard and took out a book.
“ Here's something to read," he said, handing it to
Karl. “Did you bring in supplies for supper?”
“ Yes, sir.”
“Well, then, go out into your own room and make
yourself comfortable. I shall be busy now for a while
and then I'm going over to the house.”


142 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
When Karl had left him, Muller sat down to an-
other careful study of the official report of the first
police visit to the Erlach house, also to a study of the
ground plan of the mansion. Towards seven o'clock
he joined the Plöhn family at supper and spent a pleas-
ant evening with them.
“Will you take up your studies again to-morrow?”
asked the Manager, when Hartmann finally rose to go.
“Oh, indeed I must," was the answer. “Because
you see I ran away to-day. But I don't come to
Vienna often and I always have so much to do when
I do come.”
“Well, the longer you stay with us the better we
will like it," said Mrs. Plöhn.
Hartmann bent over her hand politely and then left
the house. The next day he appeared in Bauer's
office promptly at ten o'clock. He was anxious to
learn about the bookkeeping of the factory, about
the rates of wages and the method of payment. All
this information was given him with a pedantic
thoroughness which made him wonder more and more
at what Plöhn had told him about Bauer's sentimental
proclivities. The bookkeeper, thorough though he
was, was quite satisfied with the intelligent interest
shown by his listener. No one, except Karl Tonner,
knew that this ardent student of brick-making had al-
ready passed several hours before the dawn in the
Green House. Karl had stood at the window of the
pavilion with an excellent field-glass and watched
every moving thing that came within the range of his
vision. Finally he saw his master coming from the
direction of the Erlach property and breathed re-
lieved. Muller seemed in a very good humor and
asked for a cup of tea. It had been Hartmann's wish
that his own servant should make the morning tea or
coffee for both of them, in the pavilion, and Karl
had proved himself quite a clever cook. It was a


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 143
dainty tray before which Muller sat down early this
morning. The detective was in an excellent humor
and he did not seem to mind the fact that the eggs
were a little harder than he usually liked them. Karl
was quite upset over his carelessness in the cooking.
“Oh, never mind it,” said Muller, " you see I'm tak-
ing the second one already.” He put it in his egg-
cup and was just about to strike the top with his
knife. Suddenly he changed his mind, took up the
egg again and asked: “ Can you make an egg stand
on its end?”
Karl Tonner was astonished. He was reckless
enough himself, but he was struck dumb with admira-
tion at the man who could joke about trifles while he
knew himself to be at the mercy of an unusually clever
criminal.
"Oh, yes," said the young man with a smile. “I
can do that. It's easy enough. Just break the top
of the shell and the egg will stand upright without
any trouble.”
“That's it exactly, my young friend," replied Mul-
ler merrily. “And you know also that Columbus was
the first person to do this simple trick?”
“Yes.”
“ And do you know that that is why we speak about
the ‘egg of Columbus' when we mean that a clever
brain - a brain such as the man we are looking for
must have,- manages to accomplish the most appar-
ently difficult feat with the simplest methods ?”
“Yes, I've always understood that's what it meant."
“Well, my young friend, there are several sorts of
Columbus eggs," laughed Muller, “and now you can
give me another cup of tea. It's unusually good this
morning."


CHAPTER XI
MULLER VISITS ROSE COTTAGE
SEVERAL days passed. It was already the 28th of
September and still no light had been brought into the
darkness of the Erlach mystery. This at least was
the opinion of the people of Inzersdorf as well as of
Lieutenant Erlach and his friend Commissioner Lehr.
But Karl, who saw Muller daily and hourly, felt that
something of importance had been discovered. The
veteran detective wore his armor vest every day, but
in spite of the necessity for this precaution he seemed
in the best of spirits. He spent more time than be-
fore in the brick factory and showed the greatest pos-
sible interest in everything connected with it. He had
visited the cashier, Gebhart, in his office and had drawn
out an invitation from the latter to accompany him to
his private rooms, by means of a few casual remarks.
As they passed through the halls on this occasion Geb-
hart pointed to another door with the words:
“ There's where my colleague Bauer lives." Muller
did not need the explanation, for he had already seen
the visiting card tacked on the door. Several of the
bachelor officials and clerks of the factory were
domiciled in one wing of the office building, and the
wing itself was connected with the manager's dwelling
house by a covered walk. Muller led the conversa-
tion around to the subject of the other clerks, with
particular interest in Bauer.
Gebhart, as well as all others who came in contact
with him, was obliged to admire Bauer's intelligence
and capacity for work. But he too, shared the per-
144


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 145
gel,
he ha fono
there the do, the bit of black hart's room the
sonal antipathy for the man that every one else felt.
Even the villagers did not like him. And the jovial
innkeeper confessed to Gebhart once that only a stern
sense of the business advantage of it enabled him to
be as cordial to Bauer as to his other patrons. His
pretty little wife was open in her dislike of the “ Ham-
burger," as the villagers called Bauer because of the
fact that he had lived for several years in North Ger-
many and was fond of using expressions and words
of that locality.
She justified her feelings by the fact that Bauer
added an inclination to run after any pretty woman
to his other disagreeable qualities. That is, a woman
counts such conduct on the part of a man as disagree-
able usually only when the man is not attractive.
On his first visit to Gebhart's room the cashier
showed him the bit of black cord which he had found
there the day after the attack. It was a piece of black
horsehair lariat, identical with the bit Muller had
found twisted in the carving of Erlach's ebony bed.
Early one bright afternoon, the detective set out to
pay his promised call on Dr. Maximoff. The owner
of Rose Cottage had evidently seen him coming, for
he stood on the threshold, his hands cordially out-
stretched in welcome. As they walked through the
wide hall, little Sonya ran to meet them, for she had
already developed a great fondness for Mr. Hart-
mann on her various visits to the Plöhn house. Maxi-
moff introduced to his guest the dignified elderly lady
who took charge of his household and his little giri,
and praised her patience with him in spite of what he
called his attacks of violent anger. Mrs. Schober
smiled in appreciation of the doctor's self-accusation
and assured Mr. Hartmann that one could not wish
for a more agreeable employer. “ Shall I send your
tea up to your own room?" she asked.
.“ Please do,” said Maximoff cheerily, running his


146 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
arm through that of his guest. “I want you to see
my sanctum, the room in which I have collected about
me everything that gives me inspiration, that enables
my soul to lift itself out of the prose of everyday
existence.”
“And yet our lives have driven such deep roots
into this everyday existence that it gives them their
chief color," said Hartmann.
“Yes, you are right,” replied the Russian, “and
yet you are wrong too. One can carve out a life for
oneself, alone, apart from the other, and it is this
secret life that makes the other endurable.”
“Papa, you're going to show Mr. Hartmann your
rings, aren't you?” asked Sonya. “Mimi told me
that he liked Aunt Anna's old jewelry so much.
Didn't you?” she said, snuggling up to the guest with
an air of childish importance.
“Yes, indeed I did, my dear little girl. And
I want to see everything that is interesting and
strange."
“ All right, baby, we'll show Mr. Hartmann all our
treasures,” said the doctor. “But you run along now
and help Mrs. Schober decorate the tea-table.”
“Oh, you are expecting guests?”
“ The very dearest guests who could come to me —
and I include you among them. My betrothed is com-
ing with her relatives.”
“But hadn't I better go away?"
“Nonsense, you mustn't think of it for a moment!
We have all grown so fond of you, and they will be
as glad to see you here as they are to greet you in
their own house. You have finished your work for
the day, I know, and you must surely stay and be one
of the party.”
“Really I hadn't an idea that they were coming,”
continued Hartmann apologetically. “I had letters
to write and they kindly sent my dinner for me out to


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 147
my own room. I have not seen the ladies at all to-day
and I saw Mr. Plöhn only for a moment.”
“All the more reason why you should stay and see
them now,” replied Maximoff, pressing his guest's
hand warmly, “and here — now you are about to
enter my favorite room.”
They stood on the threshold of a large apartment
furnished in dark colors, but with great richness and
dignity. Heavy, tall bookcases and cabinets in dark
wood lined the walls. Behind the glass doors were
rows of heavy tomes and a number of scientific in-
struments. What wall space was still left free was
hung with costly rugs on which were placed rare and
equally costly weapons of various countries. Between
the two windows of the room stood an enormous flat-
topped desk covered with books and papers.
“Really, this is delightful," said the guest as his
eyes wandered about the attractive room. “I can
indeed imagine that it is pleasant to work here and
to forget the everyday worries. What a stunning
cabinet! That is as handsome a late Empire piece
as I have seen." Still speaking, Hartmann went for-
ward to the corner where the round-front cabinet
stood.
“Ah, there you see, Sonya - we don't need to
show our friend the way!” laughed Maximoff. “ He
finds out our chiefest treasures at a glance.”
“It was impolite of me, wasn't it,” remarked Hart-
mann, pausing where he stood. “I ought to be pun-
ished. No, don't show me your rings now. I must
learn to wait patiently — don't you think so, Sonya ?
one ought to learn to be patient?”
Sonya was anxious to lead him to the cabinet but
he resisted and began the tour of the bookcases.
“You are particularly interested in the subject of
mental alienation, I see,” he said, as he read through
the titles.


148 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
“ That is my specialty," replied the doctor. “The
human soul interests me far more than the human
body rhat's becaus smile., a find the study However, 1970
“That's because your body is so healthy," said
Hartmann with a smile. “ If you knew what it was
to be physically ill, you'd find the study of the body
more interesting than you do now. However, my
argument doesn't hold water. For your soul seems to
me to be as healthy as your body. I have seldom met
a man who impressed me as so strong and sane and
well-proportioned in character as you are."
“You flatter me."
“Not at all. I am merely expressing my opinion.
From our pleasant evenings in the Plöhn household
I have learned to know you as a delightful conversa-
tionalist and a good card player. Now I see on your
desk the fat manuscript of what is doubtless a scien-
tific work. I know your fondness for flowers and
that you supervise your own garden. Also that you
are your little girl's teacher. I have heard of your
charities from many of those whom you have helped
hereabouts. You must let me tell you that I consider
you a very remarkable man,— all that the highly cul-
tivated civilized man ought to be, but is not, except in
the most unusual cases.”
“In the most unusual cases,” repeated Maximoff,
with a gaze out into space that seemed to forget the
presence of his guest.
“Ah, I see you have Pitaval also — and a number
more works on Criminal Jurisprudence. Are you
particularly interested in that line of study too?"
“Why, yes, very much so," Maximoff nodded smil-
ing. “ Pitaval for instance, has given very important
contributions on the subject of psychology. Every
criminal case interests me because almost every one
shows the lack of proportion in the mental make-up
of most human beings. But here comes the samovar,”


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 149
he interrupted himself, “now for the lighter things
of life. Do the honors, Sonya darling, and then run
and help Mrs. Schober. Because if you don't, the
flowers won't be nearly as prettily arranged."
The little girl busied herself about the tea-table,
arranging the cups and saucers ready to hand, lit the
lamp under the kettle, then gave her father a hearty
kiss and ran out of the room.
“You are a happy man, indeed,” said Maximoff's
guest, looking after the charming child.
“Yes, yes, indeed! Is she not a treasure? And I
am happy now. But there have been hours in my life
when I cursed this existence, and such hours may
come again,” he sighed deeply.
“Now, that is your national melancholy again,”
said Muller sympathetically. “Is it anything you fear
on Sonya's account?”
“ Have you noticed anything particular about the
child ?”
“Only that she is unusually pretty.”
“Did you not notice how bright her eyes are and
how unnaturally brilliant her skin?"
“Well, what of that ? ”
“She is the image of her mother, in that as in other
ways. Come, I will show you.” He led the way
into the next room and halted before a life-sized por-
trait, draped in crepe, of a beautiful woman of fragile,
delicate appearance.
Muller looked at the portrait, then spoke, with a
trembling in his voice: “Yes, yes, indeed, Sonya bids
fair to be as beautiful as her mother was." To him-
self he thought: “Is the child as delicate also, and
will she too die early?” And he understood the sad-
ness in the eyes of the handsome man who stood look-
ing up at the picture.
“As beautiful, yes, and as frail,” murmured Maxi-
moff, holding his hands to his eyes. Then he turned


150 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
poise of shield and hislaimed the do friend? - do
quickly and went out of the room, Muller following
him more slowly. When he caught up with his host,
the latter was already pouring out the tea.
"I don't think that I believe in the theory of
heredity as strongly as you do,” said the guest casu-
ally as he took his cup. “I believe that it is pos-
sible to work against the development of an inherited
trait, either mental or physical, and sometimes even
to exterminate it entirely.”
“Do you really think so, dear friend? — do you
really think so?” exclaimed the doctor warmly. His
face flushed and his eyes gleamed. But the quiet
poise of his guest seemed to calm him.
He drank his tea in silence for a few moments.
Then he began again: “ The book I am writing con-
cerns itself with this very theory of heredity and I
will confess to you that what you have just said is
my own standpoint. I believe that one can fight in-
herited tendencies and destroy them — destroy them
completely.” Again the excitement mastered him.
“We must destroy them in whatever way we can,-
but it is easy enough — and therefore I don't believe
in the power of heredity any more than you do. But
you're not drinking your tea. Isn't it to your taste?”
Mr. Hartmann hastened to assure his host that the
beverage was in every way satisfactory. He finished
his cup and lit one of the tiny cigarettes that lay in
a silver dish on the tray. Maximoff began to smoke
also and started a new subject of conversation. With
no attempt at transition he began to talk of the trans-
migration of souls. He handled this theme with bril-
liant originality. And his guest gained the impression
that the eccentric Russian had occupied himself in-
tensely with the subject and that he believed in the
theory absolutely. The interesting metaphysical con-
versation was interrupted, however, by the entrance of
the Plöhn family and the talk became lighter.


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 151
As the weather was so favorable, the company ad-
journed to the garden after having had their tea, and
Mrs. Plöhn and the children led Mr. Hartmann about
among the flower-beds, showing him the wonders that
Maximoff had wrought since he became master of the
property.
The doctor's garden was not very large but was so
skillfully planned that it seemed much greater in size
than it really was. Artistic groups of trees and
shrubs were placed about in such a way as to show
the smooth stretches of lawn to greater advantage.
Graveled paths twisted in and out among the screen-
ing bushes, giving the impression that one might walk
some distance before coming out into the open again.
Mrs. Plöhn and Hartmann, the children dancing about
them, followed one of these paths in its various wind-
ings, down towards the lower end of the garden.
They passed a round stretch of lawn in the midst of
which was a circle of carefully tended box, surround-
ing a small fir tree.
“There, Aunt Anna," said Sonya catching at Mrs.
Plöhn's hand," there's something new, and papa
made it all himself without any help from the gar-
dener. And he's done ever so many things in the
conservatory without the gardener too. Anyway the
gardener hasn't been here for some time.”
“ Then you don't have a gardener regularly for all
this work?” asked Hartmann. Sonya explained that
they did have a gardener formerly, but that he had
been dismissed for disobedience during the month of
August and that papa found he could get along just
as well alone. Then the children led the party into
the conservatories, where there was so much to see
that they spent quite some time there.
Plöhn himself sat in a comfortable chair on the
veranda reading the evening paper. Maximoff and
his betrothed strolled up and down in front of the


152 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
house, arm in arm. They were talking of the vari-
ous alterations they should make in their home once
they were married.
Suzanne Plöhn was an attractive, warm-hearted girl,
but her nature was too thoroughly well-poised to be
either sentimental or passionate. Her calmness made
an excellent and wholesome foil for the brilliant, eas-
ily-excited character of the man beside her.
“ You mustn't look at me like that, Sergius," she
said gently, as she caught the hot glance of his dark
eyes resting on her. “I am afraid of you when you
look like that. I am afraid of you sometimes any-
way — afraid of your passionate nature and — I know
you'll laugh at me now — I am afraid of your tremen-
dous physical strength."
“Oh, dearest — dearest,” he murmured, drawing
her to him in spite of her resistance.
“You mustn't do that, either," she pleaded.
“Not at all — never?” he whispered in her ear.
She blushed, with an embarrassed smile.
“You foolish man,” she said — “but now, anyway,
you must walk beside me quietly and quite demurely.”
“ Are you really afraid of me?” he asked with a
new tone of anxiety in his voice.
She nodded. “ Yes, I am, sometimes. It made me
shiver to see you break that heavy oak stick the other
day. But I know that very strong men have to do
that sort of thing occasionally to use up their excess
of vigor."
“Well, then, what's the matter?”
“Oh, I don't mean that. But at the time the
thought came over me: 'He could break me in two like
that,' and I shuddered to my very heart — I don't
know why. Now don't look so gloomy, dear Sergius.
Don't I know how good and how faithful your heart
is ? Another woman might feel hurt to see that beau-
tiful picture still hanging up stairs there. I like to


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 153
stand and look at it, for to me it gives an added proof
of your power of affection. I like to realize that you
cannot and will not forget the woman who first won
your heart.”
“And it does not offend you — it does not hurt
you?” he asked anxiously.
Suzanne shook her head. “We will share your
heart as sisters, your dear dead love and I," she re-
plied tenderly, stroking from his brow the furrow her
last words had drawn there.
Then they joined the others and an hour later the
guests left Rose Cottage. Before his departure Mr.
Hartmann had given his solemn promise to return the
following day and examine Maximoff's pride, his col-
lection of antique rings.
When Muller retired to his pavilion that evening,
he was convinced that Dr. Maximoff was the other
of the originals of whom Plöhn had spoken. But
the Russian was so much a finished man of the world
that his originality was scarcely perceptible outside
of his own little kingdom, the home that expressed
his rich personality so well. Muller felt surprised
again at the thought that this busy and versatile man
would even take time to do the actual manual labor
in his garden. He knew him also as a philanthropist
of astonishing liberality. The Plöhns had told Hart-
mann, early in his visit, how generous Maximoff was
to people of the village. He had built a lodging house
and a library for them, and every day ten poor people
were given dinners at his expense in the parish house.
This afternoon, as they walked back to the manager's
home, Plöhn told Hartmann that he had just heard,
not from Maximoff himself, but from a friend who
was physician in a Viennese hospital, that the Rus-
siąn had given forty thousand crowns to endow two
beds in the establishment. The only condition was


154 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
that the name of the donator should not be men-
tioned.
“Of course, I wouldn't let him see that I knew any-
thing about it, and you must promise to do the same.”
Hartmann promised readily that he would not betray
the secret. The veteran detective had taken a great
liking to Maximoff and his flattering words when
they were alone that afternoon had been only the ex-
pression of his sincere admiration.
Next morning Muller spent several hours with
Bauer, going over the works. The afternoon found
him again in Rose Cottage. Some time was spent in
the conservatories in admiration of the doctor's re-
markable results in the culture of chrysanthemums,
then host and guest went into the house, Sonya run-
ning beside them.
“Now you really must see my rings,” said the
Russian brightly. “Sonya dear, you'll look after the
tea, won't you?”
The little girl ran out and the two men, arm in arm,
crossed the study and stood before the handsome cabi-
net which had already attracted Muller's attention.
Maximoff's manner was almost ceremonious as he
turned the key in the lock.
“What I have here is not only costly in material
and workmanship,” he said, “ but it has its chief value
in the association connected with each piece. Every
one of my rings represents as it were a bit of world-
history, for each one of them was the property of a
person of importance in the history of the world.”
While speaking he drew out a drawer of the cabi-
net. It contained four ebony boxes with glass tops.
They were lined with dark blue velvet, and the rings
lay resting on little knobs. There were about forty
of them, a collection that was indeed of great value.
Maximoff pulled up a chair for his guest with the


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 155
words: “ You must sit down and examine these at
your ease to thoroughly appreciate them.”
Muller settled back comfortably in the chair and ex-
amined each piece with great interest, while his host
gave the necessary explanation. There was, for in-
stance, a simply-worked golden circlet set with a
roughly cut diamond of considerable size which had
been worn by Peter the Great A heavy ring set with
many pearls of value had once adorned the hand of
Anne Boleyn. A peculiarly carved ring of darkened
silver had been the property of Count Wallenstein.
Maximoff could tell the story of each piece in his col-
lection, and could tell it so well that his listener's en-
joyment of the curiosities was enhanced doubly.
When the last of the rings had been studied and ad-
mired, Maximoff laid the boxes carefully back in the
drawer.
“I suppose of course you have documents to prove
the truth of the history of this really remarkable col-
lection?" asked Muller.
“Oh, yes, indeed,” said the doctor eagerly. “ I'll
show them to you at once.” He fairly tore open the
next drawer and took out a large portfolio which lay
in it. At the same moment Muller, looking at the
open drawer, remarked: “Oh, I see you have all sorts
of other beautiful things there. Miniatures too!
That is another expensive fad.”
“Are you interested in that sort of thing?"
“ Very much.”
“Then I'll show you what I have. It isn't very
much, I've been collecting miniatures only about a
year or so."
He took the case out of the drawer and held it so
that his guest could look at the little pictures. There
were only seven of them, but each one a masterpiece
in its way. One of them seemed to interest Muller
greatly. He stared at it as if hypnotized, while Max-


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 157
Emperor two days before his disappearance.” And
again: “ Doctor Maximoff was the last person to
visit Mr. Erlach, he was in our house on the 3rd of
September.” And again Muller seemed to hear Till's
report: “ An insurance agent came to the place on the
6th of September but he did not enter the house.”
Like succeeding flashes of lightning these sentences
shot through the detective's head, bound together as
it were by the bits of black cord and the enormous
footprints that he had seen in the Erlach garden -
footprints which he had seen later in front of the wall
surrounding the Plöhn pavilion, a proof that the man
with the black cord had followed him there and knew
who he was.
And now he was here in the house of the most
highly respected man in the neighborhood, stood op-
posite this cultivated and great-hearted man, and saw
him smiling at the little picture of Napoleon, the pic-
ture which, as he said, he had “recently procured with
considerable difficulty”—the picture which was in Er-
lach's possession up to two days before his disappear-
ance, after which time no visitor had entered his house.
Had Maximoff been there once more, without the
knowledge of Mrs. Tonner or the Tills? And had
he persuaded the old gentleman to sell him the picture?
But Muller remembered that Maximoff himself had
once mentioned that his last meeting with Erlach
took place in the very first days of September, the af-
ternoon that he had played chess in the Green
House. This agreed with what Mrs. Tonner had said
- but might it not have been a lie after all?
All these thoughts circled madly through Muller's
head while he stood looking at the smiling Russian.
“What was the difficulty of which the other spoke?
There are various ways of procuring a treasured mas-
terpiece," he asked himself. His teeth set firmly and a
pitiless gleam rose in his eyes, while his hand invol-


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 159
Muller smiled in harmless friendliness as he asked
the question. Not a line of his face, not a quiver in
his voice, betrayed the tenseness that held him for the
last few moments.
Maximoff was equally calm. In his usual witty
manner he began to tell the story of how he had found
the miniature in the shop of an antiquary in Vienna,
of how he had gone there again and again, to try and
buy just this one piece out of a Napoleon collection
which the man wanted to sell all together. It had cost
Maximoff, so he said, many journeys and consider-
able money until he finally managed to get possession
of this most interesting piece of the entire collection.
The Russian did not spare a joke at the expense of
his own obstinacy and his awakening collector's mania.
His story was easily and naturally told, but when it
came to an end Muller noticed that Maximoff had
not mentioned the name or the address of the anti-
quary in question.
At this moment a young serving maid entered with
a card on a silver tray. The girl was evidently un-
trained as yet, for she left the door open behind her
and Muller could see a man in the hall outside. A
single glance at this visitor and the detective turned
to the window, almost burying himself in the heavy
curtains that hung there. The gleam in his eye was
perceptibly heightened.
He kept his gaze on Maximoff, who, as he read
the name on the card, lost his laughing indifference.
His face flushed in anger, a deep fold ploughed itself
between his brows and his eyes shot fire. He was evi-
dently in the grip of one of the sudden rages of which
he himself had spoken.
“ You idiot! Don't you know enough to shut the
door?” he cried to the girl and then walked quickly
to the now entering visitor. “You know your busi-
ness! Nobody's safe from you, I suppose ?”


160 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
few home. I'm Hartmann,"
The stranger, an elegantly dressed gentleman,
seemed to be somewhat offended at this reception, for
his voice was sharp as he answered: “Dr. Maximoff,
I should indeed know very little about my business if
it were not possible for me to follow up anyone who
has once honored me with his confidence and his pat-
ronage. Why, I am -”.
He did not get any further, for on entering the room
he had seen the figure of a man in the shadow of the
heavy plush curtains at the window. He bowed
lightly to this scarcely seen person and Maximoff also
turned to the window.
“My dear Mr. Hartmann," said the doctor, “pray
excuse me. I'm obliged to talk to this gentleman a
few moments, but I will soon return to you.”
“You'd better lock up your treasures first,” replied
Hartmann, from behind the handkerchief which he
held to his face, as he was struggling with a fit of
coughing. Maximoff motioned the stranger to enter
the neighboring room and shut the door behind him.
“ These people are so aggressive," he said indig-
nantly to Muller. “I went to see this man the other
day to talk about some changes I want made in my
house, a new addition I am desirous of building, and
now he comes here without being sent for."
“ Well, I'll be off then," said Muller. “For as long
as the man is here you might as well have your talk
with him without being hurried.”
“ Are you really going?”
“ Yes, I must. But if you permit it I will come
soon again.”
“ Permit it? Why, I shall be delighted to see you
here, delighted! I confess that I'm growing very fond
of you.”
"Is that really true?".
“Haven't you noticed that I seem to enjoy your
company ?"


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 161
“ At least you have not avoided me, but seemed
rather to seek me out."
“Well, then?"
“ Then I may be equally frank? and tell you that
I find myself taking a great liking to you.”
“Why do you speak so low?"
: “ It isn't necessary that your architect should know
everything, is it? But now you must go to him.
Good afternoon, doctor. We will meet soon again, I
hope.”
A few moments later Muller was outside, walking
along the dreary highroad. He looked at his watch,
then changed his direction suddenly and walked rap-
idly towards the little railway station. He was just
in time to spring into a train for Vienna. He found
himself alone in the compartment.
“What was that man doing there?” he asked half
aloud. Then he burst out into a hearty laugh. “ Did
he send for him to spy on the dwellers in the pavil-
ion?”
But his sudden merriment did not last long. It
gave way to the graver thoughts that absorbed him
completely, that dazed him with their swing and rush.
"It is absolutely mysterious — incomprehensible -
if it is he, why am I still alive? And if it is not he,
why these two lies to-day ? For I know that this
Napoleon miniature is the one that belonged to Erlach.
The manner of painting, even the odd frame might
be repeated on two pictures. But the peculiar pattern
of the paper that is pasted over the back of this little
masterpiece and of the picture of Josephine, could
hardly be repeated in a copy. Well, I'll know before
nightfall whether there is a picture of Napoleon in
Erlach's cabinet. But I very much fear that Max-
imoff's story of how he got the picture was as much
a lie as his assertion that his visitor was an architect.
I am greatly afraid of it,” thought the veteran de-


162 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
tective, “ for I really and truly had begun to like the
man."
In the city Muller went to his own home first. An
hour and a half later he entered the office of a well-
known private detective agency.
He was ushered into a cozily-furnished little room,
hardly larger than a good-sized closet. All the re-
ception rooms of the establishment were on this order.
For the customers who came here desired secrecy
beyond everything else. Muller was well known to
the attendants and was shown into the little room
which adjoined the manager's private office.
“ The manager may be here any moment,” said the
attendant who showed him in. “Is there anything
I can do for you until he comes ?”
“No, thank you,” said Muller. “I don't mind be-
ing alone as I have a great deal to think over.”
“ There, I think he's in there now," said the at-
tendant, listening towards the door of the private
office. Muller rose and knocked at this door. As
he passed a long mirror to reach it, he smiled at the
reflection he saw there, the reflection of his own slen-
der figure. For he had left all that made up Mr.
Hartmann in his own home.
“Ah, good afternoon, my dear Mr. Muller," cried
Manager Greng, as Muller entered the room.
Greng was engaged in hanging up his overcoat on
a hatrack. He stopped just where he was, flung the
coat over his arm, and came forward with his free
hand outstretched. “ Deus ex machina," he ex-
claimed, evidently greatly pleased to see the old de-
tective.
“ And why?” asked Muller with a cheery laugh, as
the other led him to a soft corner of the sofa and piled
up the cushions invitingly. “My — my! you're
treating me as if I were Her Royal Highness, who


164 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
“ What hope?”
Greng looked at his guest carefully. “You cer-
tainly look fine."
“Do you think so?”
“ Yes, I do. I notice the difference possibly, be-
cause it's two years since I saw you last.”
“ Yes, that was in Pegli, wasn't it? It was cer-
tainly awfully good of you to come over from Genoa
just to see me.
“It was quite natural. I was living in hopes then,
too.”
“ Concerning me? You didn't say anything about
jus
it.”
“No. I didn't dare mention the subject.”
“Mercy! I had no idea you were so shy."
“ Well, you see, when one man wants to suggest a
partnership to another and the other begins the con-
versation by saying that he never intends to work
again - it doesn't look very hopeful.”
“I was having so much trouble with my liver just
then."
" Is it all right now? You certainly look it. And
you certainly look very enterprising to-day.”
“I not only look enterprising, but just at present
I feel very much so.”
“ And you feel like working again?” Greng bent
forward eagerly.
“ Yes, I feel quite like working again. That's the
reason I'm here to-day.”
“Oh, that's fine! Then I may ask you some-
thing?"
“ Certainly, what is it?”
“ Would you be ready for a journey?”
“Out of the country?”
“ To Russia."
Muller drank his second glass of brandy slowly and
carefully, weighing each drop of the amber liquid on


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 165
tent. He has able to
his tongue as if he hadn't another thought in the
world. The younger man waited until his impatience
got the better of him. “Well, my dear Muller, do
answer?”
“To Russia, you say? ” remarked the old detective
indifferently. “ And what am I to do there?”
Greng shrugged his shoulders and answered with a
slight embarrassment: “I don't know.”
“ You don't know?”
“No. My client is very distrustful.”
“But he must have confided in you to some ex-
tent."
“He has told me only that he wants an independ-
ent, preferably unmarried, highly intelligent and dis-
creet detective to go on a journey to Russia with him.”
“Is that all? And you're to find this treasure for
him?"
“ Yes, that's it.”
“He came here about it? And you haven't let him
get out of your sight since then, have you?”
" Muller! What do you know about it?”
“I know that you were in Dr. Maximoff's house
this afternoon.”
“Well, that beats all!”
“ You know your business! No one is safe from
you, I suppose.' These were the words with which
he welcomed you."
“ The devil! Now how the mischief did you know
that? Are you omnipresent ? ”
“No. I'm only in one place at one time. But the
place I happened to be at that time was in the window
of the study at Rose Cottage.”
“Oh, then you were the man who stood there?”
“You have hit it exactly.”
“Incredible! And yet I don't know, it's not so
surprising. I had to tell the Russian that I hadn't the
sort of a man he wanted at liberty just now and that


166 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
he might have to wait some little time before I could
send him the right person. So I suppose he may have
heard of you and sent for you himself. That explains
his anger at my coming. If he needed me he wouldn't
have considered it an intrusion. Still I don't know
then, why he should have lied to me? Why didn't he
tell me that he had the man he wanted instead of in-
sisting that I was to find someone right away? That's
what I don't understand.”
“ But I understand it.”
“ Then do tell me.”
“Dr. Maximoff does not know that I am a detec-
tive and he must not know it for some time yet,” said
Muller, believing in his heart that what he had just
said was a lie. “So you see he couldn't very well en-
gage me for this journey, and he had to trust to you
further."
“Oh, that's it, is it? Have you been friends with
him for some time?”
“For several weeks now. I'm rather surprised that
he should not have spoken of this journey to any-
body."
“Would you be in a position to know if he did
speak of it?"
“ Certainly. I see him very often in the presence
of his best friends in that neighborhood.”
“ And you hadn't a suspicion that there was a se-
cret in this man's life? There must be, judging
from what he demands of me.”
“No. I hadn't the faintest suspicion of it until
to-day," answered Muller truthfully. Then he
added : “ There are secrets — political secrets in the
lives of most Russians who live outside their own
country. I suppose this is another one of the same
kind.”
“ Probably. Anyway, he pays very well. He has
promised me an unusually large commission for find-


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 167
ing the man he wants. And the salary the latter will
earn will be equally munificent. So I thought of you,
Muller."
,“ That was kind of you. But you know that I have-
n't worked merely for money for some time now.”
“ Pardon me, that wasn't what I meant. I had
thought of you, for it struck me that the case promised
to be interesting.”
"Interesting politically, probably — but I'm not in-
terested in politics. No, I'm afraid you can't depend
upon me here. I don't want to enter Maximoff's
service and thus lose him as a friend."
“Oh, confound it!” complained Greng, “and I
thought it was my special good fortune that brought
you to me to-day. Because to be honest with you, if
you don't want to do it I'll have to lose the good
job.”
“Oh, no, you won't. You can take this case.”
“My dear Muller! What do you mean?”
“Now don't get excited. You'll get your com-
mission and save the reputation of your house. I
have a young friend, his name is George Münzer, who
I think is just the man. I will be responsible for him
and you can recommend him to Maximoff without
fear.”
“George Münzer? The name is quite new to me,”
said Greng.
“ Not to me,” thought Muller, “ for I had an uncle
by that name.” Then he said aloud: “ There was a
time, you know, when the name of Napoleon Bona-
parte was new to most people. If I say that I'll be
responsible for this young man, you needn't fear
recommending him to anybody.”
"Oh, certainly — certainly,” said Greng hastily.
“When can you send him to me?".
"In the course of the next two or three days. I
think he is in Vienna now and at liberty."


168 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
he say, I don't believe ose slowly frofil see i
“Not for two or three days ? Oh, dear!”
“What's the matter now? Are you in such a
hurry?”
“ I'm not, but the Russian seems to be. By what
he says, he'd like to start the man off to-morrow.”
“Oh, I don't believe a day or two will make such a
difference.” Muller rose slowly from his chair and
continued: “Well, for your sake, I'll see if I can't
find Münzer to-day. If he is free you will have word
by to-morrow morning.”
“Oh, thank you ever so much. That's really nice
of you." Greng shook Muller's hand warmly. But
not until the latter had taken up his hat did it occur
to the manager of the establishment to inquire the
reason for his guest's coming to him.
“Why, you see," replied Muller with a show of
candor. “I was greatly interested in knowing what
you and Maximoff had to do with one another.
That's the only reason I came.”
Then Muller left the office after another hearty
handshake with the man from whom he had easily
learned something which might be of value to him.
He was very glad now to realize that Greng had not
recognized the change in his figure, or had not
noticed that Maximoff had addressed him by a strange
name. For otherwise, the really very clever manager
of the private detective agency, who knew his busi-
ness although he was in some respects a little too
credulous, might have noticed that Muller was playing
a part out in Inzersdorf. Quite satisfied with the re-
sult of his visit to the agency, the veteran detective
stepped into a printer's shop, ordered some visiting
cards and sat down to wait for them. The cards
were printed with the name: George Münzer.
Muller stayed in his own house only long enough
to return to the outer contour and the apparel of Mr.
Hartmann. His servant Conrad mounted the box of
the change to realize that value to hinly
Taximoff had his figure, teng had not
sat Printer's agency, tha


170 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
“I felt it, sir.”
“All the better then. For then he has never
noticed you particularly. That's a very becoming
beard you're wearing. Thus far I've had no objec-
tion to it but now I'm afraid it's in the way.”
“I'll have it shaved off, sir," replied Karl willingly.
Muller nodded. “Yes, have it taken off before
eleven o'clock to-morrow morning.”
“It'll be gone by that time, sir."
“Here are three hundred crowns. Now let me see,
you've been wearing a gray suit here, haven't you?
- Now you go and buy yourself a dark blue or a
black suit and a heavy winter overcoat. Also get any-
thing else you may think you would need for a jour-
ney to Russia. It must all be done before eleven
o'clock to-morrow.”
“ You can depend upon me, sir."
“ Then from eleven o'clock on you must stay at
home.”
“Here?”
“No, in my house in the city. We'll dine there to-
morrow noon and then I'll explain everything to you.
Here are your visiting cards. You will need to use
two of them to-morrow, so don't lose them and don't
forget what your name is.”
Karl threw a glance at the little pasteboards.
“ Then my name is George Münzer?”
“Yes, you are George Münzer, a private detective
by profession. I'll tell you all the rest to-morrow.
And now get ready to go back to town. You will
find my carriage waiting for you by the railroad
bridge. Good night, George Münzer."
“Good night, Mr. Hartmann."
Ten minutes later Muller heard a wagon driving
slowly past the garden wall, the noise of the wheels
dying away in the distance. He stood at the window
for some time. He knew there was no danger in


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 171
doing so, for the room behind him was in darkness.
While his eyes wandered up to the gleaming star-
points in the blackness of the space above, his mind
went over in review all he had experienced that event-
ful afternoon and evening.
"No," he murmured half aloud. “There is no
picture of Napoleon in Erlach's cabinet.” Then after
a little while he added, with a deep sigh: “ And this
Maximoff is such a really delightful and sympathetic
personality.”


CHAPTER XII
THE EMBARRASSMENT OF BAUER
NEXT day the ladies Plöhn found occasion for one
of those dissertations on the shortcomings of servants
so dear to the feminine heart. Mr. Hartmann told
them that he had been obliged to dismiss his young
valet without notice, because of insubordination and
impertinence. “I lost my patience and told him to
get out of my sight at once," reported the indignant
landowner, his soft heart reproaching him all the
while for the calumny he was obliged to heap on the
head of his faithful Karl.
Muller reached his own house in the city exactly at
eleven o'clock. He was greeted by his former house-
keeper, whom he had recalled as there was now no
further reason for secrecy as far as Mrs. Tonner was
'concerned. The latter seemed so disappointed at the
change in the household that the soft hearted Muller
hastened to reassure her. He told her that his home
was hers until she could get another good position,
or until Karl was able to make a home for himself
and his mother. “Is he able to do anything for
himself yet?” asked the anxious mother timidly.
“It is your kindness alone that gives him the oppor-
tunity to be honest at least.”
Muller shook his head. “It's not such very great
kindness on my part. I need your son, and he is
proving himself very useful to me. You need have
no anxiety about him, if you have no objection to his
following my profession. He may do well at it, if
172


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 173
he makes good in this detective work I am now test-
ing him with.”
“Why should I have any objection to it?".
“There are people who do not think highly of the
profession."
“I am not one of them," replied Mrs. Tonner
warmly. “How could I be, now that I know you and
know what sort of a man you are. It isn't the work
that makes the man, but the man that makes or mars
the profession he adopts. If Karl should become ever
so little like you I will be proud of him— more proud
of him than I thought possible — of late years.”
“Has he told you that he is going to Russia ?”
asked Muller, changing the subject.
Mrs. Tonner shook her head. “That was wise of
him," continued Muller in a tone of approval. “In
our profession a man must say as little as possible
even to those who are nearest to him. But there is
no harm in your knowing where he is going. If he
is away longer than now planned, it will be perfectly
safe for him to write you if you wish it."
“ It shall be just as you think best," said Mrs. Ton-
ner calmly.
Muller gave her a slip of paper with a few lines
written on it. “In case Karl is not here at the time, I
want you to send this telegram to me as soon as you
receive one which I will send you. My message will
be a perfectly indifferent one, let us say, something
about buying flowers for me. As soon as it comes,
get this off at once. And now I want to talk to Karl.
Has he come home yet?”
“ Yes. He came in half an hour ago. Now I un-
derstand why he had all that shopping to do."
“He had to get ready for his trip. Please have
dinner served at half-past twelve and order the car-
riage for one o'clock.”
Muller nodded to Mrs. Tonner, and went upstairs to


174 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
the little room he had assigned to Karl. The door
was half open, and the young man sat by the window
reading. He was so absorbed in his book that he did
not hear Muller's entrance, nor the closing of the
door. The detective smiled as if pleased at his
protégé's power of concentration, and spoke gently.
“ George Münzer," was all he said.
Karl started, and sprang up from his chair, “Oh,
Mr. Muller, I didn't hear you come in!”
“Well, I'm glad to see you know your new name
when you hear it,” replied Muller with a glance at
the book in Karl's hands. “That's right, you know
how to go about it, I see," he continued. For the
book was the familiar red-covered Baedeker, with the
word “Russia ” in gold letters on the cover. Inside
the book, however, covering the open pages was a
sheet of white paper on which was written, many
dozen times, the name, “George Münzer."
Karl stood blushing in embarrassment, still holding
his lead pencil. “Wasn't it foolish of me?” he
asked.
“Not at all. It was a very good exercise for you,
and the best thing you could have done. The most
important thing for you the first few days will be to
make no slip as to your name, and you can't be too
familiar with it. Now sit down, and I will give you
your instructions."
The two men sat in earnest consultation until din-
ner time, Muller talking and Karl listening carefully,
answering only now and then to show that he under-
stood. As they went down to the dining-room Karl's
cheeks were flushed and his eyes shone with pleas-
urable excitement. The meal passed quietly and at
one o'clock they entered the carriage and drove to
Greng's agency. The manager of the establishment
was already waiting for them in his inner office, as
Muller had announced their coming by messenger.


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 175
Greng studied the young stranger carefully, and
could find no fault in his outer appearance at least.
This tall clean-shaven good-looking young man, with
his slender, graceful figure and his well-cut, simple
dark suit looked more like a young Englishman of
leisure than anything else, and Greng was greatly
pleased with Muller's protégé. The modest and un-
assuming, but thoroughly well-poised manners of the
young man pleased him also. George Münzer said
little during the interview, and Muller, who was
present, remained strictly impartial. Greng was anxi-
ous to have Münzer go to see Maximoff at once, but
the new young detective refused to do so. It was
finally arranged that the introduction to Greng's
wealthy client should take place on the following day,
at an hour determined by Münzer.
Mr. Hartmann spent the rest of the afternoon, after
his return to Inzersdorf, in the society of the Plöhn
family. He strolled over to the house just as the twi-
light had fallen, and found his hosts in the cosy sit-
ting-room. Maximoff was there also, seated at the
piano, accompanying Suzanne's singing. The Rus-
sian was an excellent pianist, and a particularly skill-
ful accompanist. With delicate understanding of
every shading of the mood of the song, his playing
melted into the voice, lifting it into clearer promi-
nence, giving it a background of gentle-hued harmonies.
He was playing without notes, improvising from time
to time, letting his soul speak in the soft flow of
harmony his fingers awoke from the ivory keys. His
great dark eyes with their glance of gentle melancholy,
that hung like a veil of mystery over the velvet-soft
depths, were raised in tender affection to the sweet
calm face of the girl who stood beside him. Her
eyes answered his, as she looked down at him. She
too had no notes, singing free from memory. She


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 177
gestions offered by the brain. “It can't be true
... it simply can't be true," he thought. “ I'm
off on a false trail again, and it's not for the first
time either. There'll be some reasonable explanation
as to the Napoleon portrait ... I know there
will. · If there is any secret in this man's life, it has
something to do with politics, I know.”
Again he lost himself in the study of Maximoff's
features. The Russian's handsome face, with its clear
colorless skin framed in curly dark hair, wore an ex-
pression of calm content. It was a content back of
which the warm blood and vitality of the man were
beating, there was nothing ox-like in the easy repose
of the face. But it was the face of a man who was
at peace with himself and the world, for this hour
at least. His hands too, drew Muller's eyes to them,
slender white hands which yet, even in their easy
movement over the ivory keys, showed complete
muscular control and great strength. They seemed
to suit the man's fine figure with the broad shoulders
and slender hips, and to complete the picture of virile
manhood at its very finest in the prime of early
maturity.
The veteran detective, with his deep knowledge of
the world and the human heart, wondered that
there was not more passion in the grave happiness
in Suzanne's eyes. It must be, he thought, that
there is no place for sensual passion in her clear
soul, or surely this man would be capable of awaken-
ing it.
A slight movement beside him made him turn and
he saw that Bauer had slipped in and taken the chair
to his left. With his mind still full of the charm
and strength of the Russian, Muller noticed as never
before the utter lack of attraction in this other man.
Here too were height and evident strength in a human
frame, but where in the one case all was grace and


178 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
nside the con acquainted fully.
easy elasticity, in the other the strength took the shape
of awkward bulk. Maximoff had never been more
fascinating, more brilliant than he was this evening.
In the radiance which seemed to go out from him the
ugliness of the unfortunate bookkeeper was thrown
into greater prominence. Bauer sat hunched to-
gether on his chair, evidently not listening to the music,
but absorbed in his own thoughts. They were not
pleasant thoughts, for his hands twitched nervously,
he bit at his lips and swallowed hard every now and
then. The detective looked at him more carefully.
He knew that this man had been acquainted with
Erlach and had been inside the Green House more
than once.
Mrs. Tonner had told Muller that during the two
years of her service there Bauer visited her employer
about ten or a dozen times. Like all the others who
spoke about the bookkeeper, she was willing to ac-
knowledge that the man seemed to be a faithful
worker, a capable business man, reserved and unob-
trusive, but — there was always a “but” when people
spoke of Bauer. They seemed to distrust some secret
behind his quiet. No one had confidence in him nor
liking for him. The men servants complained of his
exacting haughtiness, the women were afraid of him,
as he evinced a desire to become aggressive in his at-
tentions whenever he was sure that he would not be
found out.
The ladies of the Plöhn family, even the manager's
wife, who was anxious always to be just to every
one, made no pretense of liking Bauer. Mrs. Plöhn
was always the cordial hostess to her husband's em-
ployees, but Muller saw that it took an effort some-
times for her to overlook Bauer's unpleasant manners.
Suzanne was more outspoken and frankly said that
it was not so much the man's lack of good looks that
bothered her, but the fact that, as she expressed it,
but the face is lack of good said that


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 179
way haveuse. For that. And a reased his suspio
“ there's a certain type of ugliness which comes only
from inward vulgarity.”
Muller remembered all these things now, for he
knew that it was worth while giving a certain amount
of attention to the intuition of cultivated fine-minded
women. He had been watching the bookkeeper
lately and had won the man's confidence sufficiently
to draw out an invitation to visit him in his room.
Here he gained still more the impression of the man's
pettiness and meanness, “vulgarity” as Suzanne
called it. But he realized also that behind this vul-
garity there was not enough bigness of heart or soul
to make possible the commission of such crimes as
had been perpetrated by the Unknown with the black
cord. By this time Muller had become convinced
that Bauer was not this Unknown, although he was
not quite sure that the bookkeeper might not in some
way have been connected with the occurrences in the
Green House. For there was something on this man's
mind, Muller saw that. And a little incident that
occurred on this very evening increased his suspicion,
and reawoke his interest in the bookkeeper.
During the singing Mr. Plöhn, who had been in
one of the other rooms, came to the door and beck-
oned his wife to him. The couple passed through
the next room, into the drawing-room and a subdued
sound of voices was heard from there. Muller
recognized a strange voice — a man's. They spoke
softly, too softly at least to hear at that distance and
through the music the words that were said. With a
curiosity which was one of his unpleasant qualities
Bauer leaned forward as if anxious to see who the
stranger was. Suddenly he turned pale, bit his lips
nervously and arose from his chair. He took a step
or two towards the door between the rooms, then
turned in the direction of the hall door. Here he
halted for a moment and came up to Muller.


180 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
“Mr. Hartmann, will you please make my ex-
cuses ?” he said hastily. “I have a very bad head-
ache and think I'd better not wait for supper.”
“ Certainly. I'll tell Mr. and Mrs. Plöhn you're
not feeling well,” Muller replied, taking the hand the
other held out to him. Bauer's hand was cold and
moist and trembled perceptibly. “ You certainly do
look wretched,” continued Muller. “Why, you are
trembling all over."
“I—I don't feel well — I had better go to my
room," murmured Bauer.
The man was quite upset and Muller followed him
closely with his eye. The bookkeeper reached the
door in a few long strides and closed it gently behind
him. Scarcely was the door fully shut before Muller
stood beside it.
The two at the piano were so absorbed in their
music and in one another, that they paid no attention
to what was going on behind them. And even if they
had, there would have been nothing particularly
noticeable in the fact that Bauer left the room because
he was not feeling well and that Hartmann should
have followed him in case he needed help. But the
latter did not leave the room at once. He stood at
the door for some few minutes, then turned the knob
very softly. He opened the door quickly and looked
out into the hall.
He saw what he was expecting to see. Ferdinand
Bauer stood close to the drawing room door listening
at the crack. When Muller opened the door of the
music room, the sound of the singing came out into
the hall so much louder that Bauer started and looked
around. Muller closed the door, shutting off the
sound, and walked down the hall. Bauer stood wait-
ing for him with an evil gleam in his eye. “I-I
was dizzy,” he said sharply.
“Is there anything I can do for you? Can I assist


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 181
you to your room?” asked Mr. Hartmann with a
tone of friendly sympathy. “ Just think how embar-
rassing if this door should suddenly open while you
were leaning against it. You wouldn't like to tumble
into the drawing room like that.”
“ These doors open to the outside," remarked the
other in the same sharp tone. Then he turned with-
out another word and walked on towards the covered
passageway which led from the main house to the
office building.
“Miss Suzanne is right,” thought Muller. “It is
inner vulgarity that makes this man so unpleasant and
has given him this particular type of ugliness. Yes,
a man of that kind might easily be led into committing
a crime. But this man seems to me to be too petty
for the series of crimes that I am following up here.
Or - I have been mistaken before in my life, may
he not be deeper than I think? They call me infal-
lible, but the world doesn't realize how many mis-
takes I have made, how many failures I have to my
record. They see only my victories. I must be care-
ful here and not go ahead too fast. If this man has
not the brain to have planned these crimes, might he
not have been the instrument used by another? The
only thing here is that there was no robbery committed
in the most of these cases,- and I do not think that
this man would become a criminal without some
pecuniary advantage to himself. Or is this only an-
other mistake of mine? Can a soul like his hate
enough to murder — or murder for the joy of it? —
I saw him kick an unoffending dog one day. And yet
he is a coward, as was shown by his action just now.
Whoever it is inside there, frightened him so that he
fairly ran away,— for the strides he took could al-
most be called running.”


182 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
Here Muller's thoughts came to a standstill again
and went off in another direction. Again he saw him-
self in the Erlach house in the dead of night and saw
the tall figure running away with long strides that
carried it into the darkness with astonishing rapidity.
-He must find out what it was, who it was, that had
so frightened Bauer just now.
He returned to the music room just as Suzanne was
gathering up the loose sheets that lay on the piano.
Maximoff whirled round on the piano stool and said
laughingly: “Our music has driven you all away,
hasn't it? You at least have had the courage to come
back.”
Hartmann laughed in answer to the joke but his
mind was on the drawing room behind him. He
walked casually through the music room to where he
could see the door. But this did him no good, for
the only person within his range of vision now was
Plöhn himself who stood leaning against a table,
smoking. He could catch a glimpse of Mrs. Plöhn's
light dress but that was all. He had just made up
his mind to go into the drawing room even without
being asked, when he heard Suzanne say: “ We seem
to have a caller.” At the same moment there was a
sound of chairs being shoved back in the drawing
room and Mrs. Plöhn came forward through the in-
tervening apartment. At her side was a cheery-faced,
very young lieutenant in the uniform of an Infantry
regiment. Suzanne gave an exclamation of pleasure
and walked forward to meet the stranger.
“Why, if it isn't Cousin Fritz,” she exclaimed
brightly. “ And how nice we look in our new uni-
form! I suppose you've been up to some mischief
and have been sent to Vienna to be punished, eh? ”
The young man drew himself up for a formal
salute as he answered with mock gravity: “Quite
right, fair cousin. I've been in Vienna since the 20th


184 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
Something about an old man wasn't it? Was it a
murder?”
Muller volunteered no information, but while the
others were talking he watched Maximoff with the
greatest interest. Suzanne was first to speak: “ It
was old Mr. Erlach who lived alone in the Green
House,” she said. “ He was mysteriously missing
one morning, and they have not yet found him, either
dead or alive.”
“ Erlach, Erlach?” repeated the young lieutenant.
“I wonder if that's any relation to my comrade Paul
Erlach? It's his regiment I've changed to - it seems
to me I heard that he has relatives hereabouts.”
“ Lieutenant Paul Erlach was the nephew of the
missing man,” answered Plöhn,—" and is his sole heir
if the death is proven.”
" Is there much money there?”
“Yes, quite some, I believe."
"Well, I hope Erlach will get it,” said Lieutenant
Fritz. “He's a nice chap, we all like him. It's hell
to be poor in the Army, you know.”
Plöhn and the ladies continued to give their new
guest the details of the affair, and Mr. Hartmann
threw in an observation occasionally, stray questions,
which, although the others did not notice it, were cal-
culated to keep the conversation to this one topic.
All the while the detective was watching Maximoff,
who sat opposite him. But the man on whom Mul-
ler's keen gray eyes were so closely fixed was the
most harmless-seeming of the entire company. He
ate his supper slowly with the delicate enjoyment of
a connoisseur in well prepared food, he was constantly
on the watch for some courtesy to the ladies of the
family, he threw in a remark about the excellent wine,
and then bent his entire attention towards putting to-
gether a new combination of fruits for Suzanne.
Everything about the man seemed to point to a per-
Pia poor in the Armchap, we all like 3.0 Lieutenant


186 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
Fritz was interested in hearing about the other
crimes and they told him the principal details. He
too, was lost in admiration of the reckless courage
and the uncanny cleverness of the man with the black
cord.
When Maximoff had finished eating his pear he
wiped his beard carefully, then remarked, in a pause
in the talk: “Your idea has taken complete posses-
sion of me, Mr. Hartmann. I think I'll have a chat
with our Constable Kern to-morrow, and start him on
another investigation of the Erlach house. The de-
tective whose coming was announced to us some time
ago seems — either not to have come at all, or like the
other brilliant police minds, not to have discovered
any thing worthy of notice."
“ Possibly," replied Hartmann returning the other's
smile frankly. Muller had noticed something in Max-
imoff's speech, the little pause which he put in after
the word “seems ”— to the others it meant nothing
but to Muller it seemed like a sudden change of idea
due to caution. Might not a man have said that,
in just that way, who knew perfectly well that the
detective of whom he spoke had been in the Green
House? And who else could have known of the de-
tective's presence there except the masked man who
had taken flight so hastily that night? But this
masked man knew also that the guest in the pavilion
was the expected detective. The trace of the foot-
prints right up to his garden gate showed Hartmann
that he had been recognized.
If this man had indeed been Maximoff, who now sat
smiling so cordially at “ Mr. Hartmann," then he must
believe that he could play with this Mr. Hartmann as
a cat plays with a mouse. His eyes shone brightly,
his well-cut mouth curved in cheery lines, as he con-
tinued: “I would not be at all surprised if the black
cord could be found somewhere in that house. We
been recognizeden Maximoft, when he must


188 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
Hartmann, Polish landowner, was smiling at Dr. Max-
imoff and repeating his own word: “ Possibly." He
said it once more and this time it sounded like a
question.
Soon after this Mr. Hartmann rose and made his
farewells for the evening. Back in his own room he
took out his notebook and on its last page wrote the
one word: “ Collar."


190 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
the sidewalk. Karl Tonner got out, looking very
smart in his new clothes. He wore a turnover collar
instead of the high standing collar that he had put
on early that morning. Muller and his young com-
panion entered an empty compartment just as the
train rolled out of the station.
“I nearly forgot the collar," said Muller, looking at
the young man with careful scrutiny.
" Is it so very important ? ” asked Karl with a
laugh.
“Yes, it is very important to change the minor
lines of one's appearance, as we cannot change the
main contours. With your smooth-shaven face, the
turnover collar, a different hat and different colored
clothes, you look so different altogether that Max-
imoff is not likely to have the faintest suspicion that
he has ever seen you before.”
When the train stopped at an intervening station
Muller changed compartments. He had looked about
him on the station in Vienna and was almost certain
that no one from Inzersdorf was on the train, still he
thought it better that he and Karl should not be seen to-
gether. When he returned to the village he went
straight to the factory and spent an hour or so studying
the ground plan of the works, and investigating the de-
tails of the machine installation. No one in the works
had any idea that he had made this hasty expedition
to the city. If any one had noticed his absence in
the early morning hours at all, it was probably only
to think that he had gone for a walk.
Most of Muller's time in the factory was spent in
Bauer's company. The latter had quite recovered
from his upset of the day before, although Muller
was still in the dark as to the reason for it. Finally,
a little after twelve, Hartmann bade goodbye to his
instructor, saying that he had to take a train for the
city to keep an appointment there at two o'clock. He


192 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
was to become his wife ever to suspect even that he
was in danger of arrest in his own country. As he
was never likely to return there he saw no necessity
of putting her under the hanging dread of a danger
that might never reach him. He would, he said,
make the journey together with the young detective,
until they reached the Russian border. Before he left
him there, he would give him the final details which
no one else was ever to know. In a hotel which he
would designate, in the little town of Oswiecim, they
would meet after the work had been done. Maximoff
would take his papers, Münzer receive his salary and
then they would part, never to meet again.
This was the main content of the conversation
which Karl Tonner had had with the Russian that
afternoon. Maximoff evidently had not the faintest
suspicion that he was talking to the man who had
lived in the Plöhn house for a week or so as Mr.
Hartmann's servant. The arrangements had been
easily made and Karl's engagement for the work was
settled before the luncheon was over.
Maximoff was pleased with this serious-minded,
quiet young man, who had such excellent manners and
who spoke so little, who seemed also to attach so lit-
tle importance to what might prove a dangerous er-
rand. The young man's poise and ease seemed to
show that he was brave and quick-witted, and the
gleam that lit up his blue eyes when the Russian
named the sum he was to receive for the work, told
the latter that his new employee would surely do his
best. The two men parted in mutual satisfaction,
after arranging how they should meet the following
evening at the Northern station in Vienna.
Muller listened carefully to what Karl told him,
asked many questions and finally announced that he
would take part in this expedition himself. Karl was
surprised at this but greatly relieved. In spite of his


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 193
careless manner he felt the responsibility of what he
was undertaking.
Before he left his home Muller had another little
talk with Mrs. Tonner about the Napoleon miniature.
She was firm in her assertion that it had been in
Erlach's cabinet two days before his disappearance
and that no one had entered the house since then.
Then Muller repeated his instructions about the tele-
gram which Mrs. Tonner was to send to him to reach
him at six o'clock on the afternoon of the following
day. He did some shopping in the city and he him-
self packed both his own and Karl's grips and ordered
them left ready in the hall.
The next afternoon, a little after four o'clock, the
usual group gathered around the tea table in the Plöhn
sitting-room. Maximoff was there also and Suzanne
sat at his side, apparently in a more tender mood than
was her custom. She let her hand rest in his and
gazed up into his eyes more often than usual.
When Mr. Hartmann joined the circle he said to
the doctor: “Do you know that I have just come
from Rose Cottage? I dropped in there in the hope
of seeing you, and asking you to lend me one of your
Lombroso books?”
“Oh, why didn't you take what you wanted? Any-
thing in the house is yours, as you know.”
"I didn't like to take any without telling you first,"
answered Hartmann, sitting down and taking his cup.
“I'll send over all I have of Lombroso as soon as
I get home,” said Maximoff cordially.
“Oh, no, don't think of it,” replied Hartmann
hastily. “I don't want to burden your brain with
anything more to-day. For Mrs. Schober and your
dear little girl told me that you are going away on a
journey, this very evening.”
“ Yes, I am going, but —"


194 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
“May I ask where you are going?”
"Just think, he's going to Russia!” interrupted
Suzanne. “The very thought frightens me.”
Maximoff laughed and raised her hand affection-
ately to his lips. “Why should it frighten you, dear?
I'm not likely to get in the way of any bomb-throwers.
It's only the suddenness of this that has upset you.
You see I did not know until this morning that I
would have to go.” He turned to Hartmann as he
said the last words.
“Indeed!”
“It concerns some papers which I need before we
can be married. Unexpected difficulties in the getting
of them have arisen."
“Difficulties that require your own presence, I sup-
pose. Exactly: me ner way thermont
“ Exactly. And as any hindrance to my wishes al-
ways makes me nervous —”.
“ You want to lay them at once? I understand
your impatience. I cannot endure the slowness of
official red tape myself.”
“There you see, my dear Suzanne, Mr. Hartmann
would do the same in my case.”
“Yes, yes, I understand. I know - but I can't
help feeling so strangely uneasy." Suzanne's voice
shook as she spoke. Then she smiled with a touch
of mockery at her own fears and continued: “My
nerves seem to be playing me tricks lately, anyway.
There is a presentiment of evil hanging over me.
But it's ridiculous and I will not give way to it.
Don't let my foolishness worry you, Sergius. I
wouldn't for the world rob you of the good spirits
you are in just at present. Get your business at-
tended to as quickly as you can and come back to us
safe and well.” The girl endeavored to give bright-
ness to her tone, but underneath the forced cheeriness
was a shade of anxiety quite unusual in Suzanne's


196 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
So he had quite some time yet and could afford to be
calm about it.
At quarter to seven the door bell rang. “There
it is,” thought Muller. But when the butler came in,
it was only a package of books he brought. Maximoff
had sent all the works of Lombroso that he possessed.
Hartmann was delighted at this friendliness and be-
gan to talk of the doctor's active interest in psy-
chology. Plöhn spoke of the Russian as an expert
in the field. In the midst of an eager discussion on
this interesting topic, the clock struck seven.
“I don't need to go really until quarter to eight,”
thought Muller. “I'll complain of my rheumatism
and say that a cup of tea in bed and a good book will
cheer me up. While they believe me in the pavilion
settling myself for a quiet evening, my carriage will
be on its way to the Northern station. But I hate
to think of the unpleasant surprise these dear people
will have to-morrow morning."
Just then the door bell rang again and the maid
brought in a telegram for Mr. Hartmann. He signed
the accompanying book and the girl left the room.
Hartmann opened the telegram. “From the
Baron,” he said. “Goodness! Well! what do you
think — there has been a robbery in my house, I must
go home at once! My housekeeper sent me word on
a postal card, did you ever hear of such stupidity ?
Fortunately all my mail goes to the Baron's office and
he saw that at once and telegraphed me.” He let the
paper fall from his hand onto the table amid the gen-
eral condolences of the family, “I won't be able to
catch the train that our friend has just taken,” he said
looking at his watch.
“Must you leave this evening?" asked Mrs. Plöhn.
“Indeed I must, kind hostess. My people appear
to have lost their heads entirely, or they would have
written more definitely what the trouble is."


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 197
He took up the telegram again and read it aloud
this time, with a tone of anger in his voice. The
dispatch read: “Your people send word on postal
card of robbery in your house. Ask you to return
at once.' Wouldn't you think they could have said
a few more words? In an establishment like mine
it makes considerable difference what part of the
house is entered. Well I'll have to pack up at once.
I think I'll just throw a few things in a bag and leave
the rest here. For I want to come again if you will
permit it. I feel that I need a little more time here
for my work."
His host assured him that he would always be wel-
come whenever he might come.
“ Too bad that you can't be with Sergius on the
train,” said Suzanne. But Hartmann replied it would
only be a case of going as far as the Prater with him.
“I take the Northwestern Railway to reach my home.
But I must hurry now, for I have only forty minutes
to pack my bag and take the next train. Many, many
thanks for all your kindness to me. I shall miss this
pleasant family group, particularly the dear children.
But then I hope to see you all soon again. Now let
me see when the Baron sent this telegram.” Mr.
Hartmann was quite indignant now in his excitement.
He looked at the paper again. “ 3:10 P. M." he read.
“Well, it took long enough to reach here, didn't
it?”
“I'll send Wilhelm to you to help you pack. In
the meantime they will be getting the carriage ready,”
said Plöhn.
“Oh, no, please don't bother about the carriage,"
replied Hartmann, “but I'd be very glad of Wilhelm's
help, he can carry my bag to the station.”
Another warm handshake and Mr. Hartmann left
the house. He hurried through the garden, and when
he reached his pavilion he opened a window and lean-


198 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
ing far out he gave a long, sharp, peculiar-toned whis-
tle which was answered from somewhere in the neigh-
borhood. Then he closed the window and turned on
the electric light. When Wilhelm entered two min-
utes later, he found Mr. Hartmann already busy at
his packing.
"Did you hear that whistling, sir?” asked the man.
Mr. Hartmann replied that he had been so absorbed
in his packing that he had paid no attention to any-
thing else.
“There was a whistle, a long queer whistle, and
then it was answered from across the moor. That's
no way for decent people to act after nightfall,” said
the servant, who, as Muller had already noticed, was
not particularly valorous. The man was undoubtedly
troubled in his mind about his coming back from the
station alone. This suited Muller exactly. He closed
his bag and locked it, locked the cupboards in which
he had left his things and put the key in his pocket.
Then he turned out the light and left the pavilion,
Wilhelm carrying his bags for him.
“Run up to the house and give the key of the pa-
vilion to Mr. Plöhn," said Muller, “they you can fol-
low me to the station.” But when they reached the
front door they found Mr. Plöhn already there, talk-
ing to the driver of a carriage which stood in the road
outside.
"Here's a lucky chance for you, Mr. Hartmann!
Here's an empty cab which will save you a few mo-
ments in getting to the station. The man has been
to Laxenburg and his horses are tired, but you have
time enough and it will be more convenient than
walking. He's been paid for the journey, so he'll take
you there for the tip.”
Mr. Hartmann got into the carriage and the men
parted with another handshake. The wagon rolled
off and Plöhn returned to the house, followed by Wil-


200 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
“ Seven forty-two," replied Heberlein, and Muller
continued: “ Seven thirty-eight is the exact time.
You must get me to a quiet, badly-lighted place in the
immediate neighborhood of the Northern station at
nine-forty at the very latest. You have two full hours
to make it in. That will be easy. But you'd better
be moving now.”


CHAPTER XIV
MULLER AND KARL GO ON A JOURNEY
ed themsentlemansation with inmed sot
At half past nine that evening, a two-horse carriage
stopped a few steps from a side entrance of the North-
ern station, at the corner of an illy-lighted and little-
used street. A quiet appearing, slender man, with
heavy spectacles, long gray beard and gray hair,
alighted from the carriage. He wore a light-brown
cape overcoat and a wide-brimmed soft felt hat.
After a short conversation with the driver of the car-
riage, the gentleman took up his bags himself and
carried them into the hall where the ticket offices were.
Here he left his luggage with a porter and went to
buy his ticket. The office had just been opened and
there was a crowd of people, thirty at least, who were
pushing their way up to the narrow space in front of
the window. The little old gentleman was interested
in one person only in this crowd, and that person was
Dr. Maximoff. He edged his way up until he stood
in the line immediately behind the Russian and
heard the latter ask for two first-class tickets to
Granica. While he was getting his change the old
gentleman noticed that immediately behind him in
the line was a very impatient lady. Just as Max-
imoff left the window, the old gentleman stepped
back with a deep bow and let the lady go up ahead of
him. She acknowledged the courtesy with a smile,
bought her ticket and hurried off. Then the old gen-
tleman's turn came and he bought a ticket for Gran-
ica, first-class. He turned and followed Maximoff,
who was leisurely mounting the broad steps that led
him.ht her ticket an and he bought oil
boughan's turns. He turinting the
201


202 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
up to the waiting room and the restaurant of the
Northern station. The old gentleman and his porter
walked up equally leisurely. There were but a few
people in the roomy, attractive restaurant hall of the
first class waiting room. Muller, who now looked
like a man nearing seventy, sat down at a table quite
near the one at which Maximoff had taken his place
and at which George Münzer was already sitting.
There was a glass partition between the two tables
and Muller sat so that he could not be seen by Max-
imoff. The two men at the other table were talking
in French. Easily as he spoke German, Maximoff
preferred French and Karl handled the language very
well. This was one of the things which had so pleased
the Russian and decided him in favor of the young
detective. Their conversation now was quite unim-
portant, dealing mainly with the supper they had just
eaten. Muller smiled at the ease with which his
protégé chatted about indifferent things on the eve of
what might prove a hazardous undertaking. He was
greatly pleased at his choice of Karl for this work.
But he was also pleased with his own disguise. For
Karl, as he could see, had been quietly making a scru-
tiny of all the other men in the restaurant, and his
eyes had once or twice rested on the old gentleman
who sat beyond the glass wall, but there was no sign
of recognition in them.
When there were but fourteen minutes left before
the departure of the night express, Maximoff rose
from the table. “They've probably put our luggage
in our compartment already," he said, “ but you might
go and have a look at it. I'll follow you when I have
bought some cigarettes. We have a long night before
us and I don't sleep well on the train.” The Russian
left the room, but Karl sat motionless for a moment
or two, his eyes now openly making a tour of the
hall.


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 203
“Why that sigh?” asked Muller, who had risen
and come up behind the young man. The latter
wheeled around quickly. “Oh, I didn't recognize
you. I was afraid something might have prevented
you coming with us,” he exclaimed with a sigh of un-
deniable relief.
“Are you in a corridor car?” asked Muller.
“Yes, we have a small compartment reserved for
us."
“You'd better go now. I'll follow you and try to
get a seat as near you as I can. At all events I'll be
in the same car.”
Karl went out in the direction towards the trains,
and Muller followed him, picking up the porter with
his luggage outside the restaurant. A few minutes
later Muller had secured a seat in the compartment
immediately adjoining one on which hung a card
“ Reserved," the compartment into which he had seen
Karl disappear. Muller's compartment was also a
small one with room for only three people altogether.
When the train left the station he was glad to see that
he was still alone. He drew the curtains over the
two windows that looked out into the corridor, and
when the conductor had punched his ticket, he also
drew the shade over the lamp on the ceiling.
It was a very heavy shade and the little compart-
ment was now completely dark. The corridor outside
was brilliantly lighted. Muller could easily see Max-
imoff's face through the crack where the curtains met
on the windows. The doctor was leaning against one
of the outer windows in the corridor and smoking.
He was talking to Karl, who stood so that Muller
could only see his one shoulder. They were not talk-
ing loud enough for the listener to understand what
they said, but it must have been something pleasant,
for Maximoff's face was merry, and both men were
laughing heartily. A few moments later Karl's


204 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
The young for Maximoff looking at hinihi compartme
shoulder disappeared from Muller's range of vision.
The young man must have gone back into the com-
partment, for Maximoff evidently felt certain that
the other was no longer looking at him.
How did the old ferret in the dark compartment
know this? Something odd that happened just then
revealed it to him. Maximoff's face had changed
suddenly and remarkably. There was a peculiar set
look to it, although his mouth still smiled and his eyes
shone. It was a victorious smile and the brilliancy
of his eyes suited it well. Was this merriment
called forth by the conversation just closed ? Mul-
ler had not heard the words, so he did not know.
But for that fleeting moment the brightness and the
laughter had taken on something that made them ter-
rible, an ugly gleam as of mocking cruelty. Before
the old detective had time to know whether he really
saw it, or only thought he saw it, Maximoff's face
regained its former expression. Karl had returned
from the compartment and stood now so that Muller
could see his face also. It was smiling and content.
The great train thundered on through the night.
The two men left the corridor and went into their
compartment to make themselves comfortable for the
hours of rest. Muller followed their example, for he
did not intend to stay on watch that night as he knew
it would be quite unnecesary. It was some time how-
ever, before he could lose himself in sleep. For ever
and again there arose before his mental vision the
picture of the sudden change on Maximoff's hand-
some, smiling face. It was a change so subtle, so
quickly come and so quickly gone, that only a trained
eye such as Muller's, watching this man with intensity,
could have seen it. And yet even he asked himself
again and again: “Did I really see it or did I mis-
take? Is it possible that I have at last caught a
glimpse, through the weak spot in this man's armor,


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 205
to meet in oond still less "soing with
of the horrors that may lie beneath his charm and
fascination?”
Before Muller finally fell asleep he started up once
more with a jerk. He had been dozing and had lost
the consciousness that he was in a moving train. A
sudden swaying of the car aroused him. “What am
I doing here? Why am I on a train ?” he asked him-
self. Then the cloud cleared from his senses and he
remembered where he was, and why he was there.
“I don't like this idea of Maximoff going with
Karl,” he murmured. “And still less do I like the
plan for them to meet in Oswiecim and finish up their
business in this out-of-the-way, obscure little place.
There's something decidedly suspicious in that scheme
and that's the reason I'm going along with them. But
there's no reason why I shouldn't sleep quietly to-night.
There's no danger for the boy thus far, because this
mysterious doctor wants his papers and he hasn't got
them yet. So why not sleep as long as I can?” Hav-
ing thus reasoned himself back into a drowsy frame
of mind, Muller tried his door again to see that it was
locked, put his head down on the cushion and soon
fell fast asleep.
He slept so soundly that he did not wake up until
the train stopped in Oderberg. He looked at his watch
and saw it was three o'clock. From then on he did
not permit himself to do more than doze, and heard
the names of various stations called out, Petrovitch,
Dzieditz, and Oswiecim. When they got to the last
station, Muller rose from his couch, and looked out
into the landscape, still indistinct in the gray morning
twilight. Only a few isolated points of light showed
where the little town lay. But against the nebulous
horizon rose the outlines of the ruined castle which
overlooks the town. A great factory which Muller
remembered from a former journey, shone out at the
foot of the hill, with its rows of lighted windows.


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 211
211
It was long before Karl could fall asleep. He did
not know the reason of Muller's interest in the Rus-
sian doctor. His patron had told him no more than
that they must keep an eye on Maximoff. And be-
fore they parted he had reminded him to watch every
movement, every expression of the other, and to re-
member every word of the conversation.
The veteran detective had not given his young
protégé the faintest hint of his belief, of his sus-
picion rather, that Maximoff was the man who had
fied before him that night in the Green House and
who had followed them in their wanderings over the
moor back to the gate in front of the pavilion.
And yet Karl in his heart had an inkling of Mul-
ler's suspicion and of the fact that this suspicion was
the reason for their present journey. But he too asked
himself why this mysterious and terrible man with
the black cord, who now knew for some time that the
supposed Hartmann was a detective who was on his
trail, could have left them so undisturbed. And he too
found no answer to the question.
The young man sat for hours watching the sleeping
Russian. Again and again a shudder ran through
his frame, when he recalled the mysterious words the
other had said, accompanied by a smile that was
equally mysterious, the words — “that is good —
that is very good — that is very good for you also.”
And more and more did the certainty come to him
that he himself would have been in great danger, after
hearing the other's secret, if he had not declared him-
self ready for whatever might happen. It was some
time after midnight before the young man fell into
an uneasy slumber. When the train rolled out of the
station of Trzebinia, he sprang up again and saw
Maximoff standing in front of him, smiling cheerily
down at him.
“ Had a good sleep?” asked the doctor who was
hearing the for whatever me the young 10


212 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
a feelinous criminal?lal, should belonetic face, so serie
already fully dressed and just about to take a roll of
banknotes out of his pocketbook. In spite of the va-
ried experiences of his life Karl was still too new at
his present work not to be surprised at his own chang-
ing sensations. At the present moment he could not
understand how, in the stillness of the night on the
sleeping train, he could for one moment have imagined
that Maximoff and that terrible Unknown were one
and the same person. How was it possible that these
great melancholy eyes, this sympathetic face, so seri-
ous and yet so cordial, should belong to such an un-
scrupulous criminal? It was quite impossible! With
a feeling of remorse the young man pressed the hand
the other held out to him.
“ We will soon part," said the doctor with a sigh.
“And when we meet again, I hope you will bring to
me the papers that I need so greatly, the papers upon
which the happiness of my life will depend. You are
young yet, Münzer, your heart beats warm with sym-
pathy as the heart of youth should beat. I hope that
you really understand what your success in this mat-
ter means to a man who has gone further along life's
weary pathway than you have. And I hope that you
will have the courage, if need be, to force fate and
put through your will, no matter what difficulties may
occur."
He pressed the young man's hand firmly as he spoke
and looked at him with a glance of ardent pleading.
Then straightening himself up he continued in a calm
and business-like tone: “Here are four thousand ru-
bles in notes, and in this little bag you will find a large
sum in gold and silver, Russian currency. I know the
conditions into which I am sending you and I know
that the money I am giving you will be sufficient. I
am relying on your intelligence and your discretion,
and I hope to meet you in less than a week in Oswie-
çim. I will not appear to know you in the station in


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 215
doctor, but was an elderly retired government official
who lived with his wife on the edge of the town near
the great park belonging to the palace of Count Siev-
ers. But the postmaster remembered now that some
years ago letters were sent to Prätoria, in Africa -
yes, it was Prätoria, letters addressed to a Dr. Max-
imoff. He supposed this to be the son of Andreas
Maximoff. Letters had come from this far-away son
and he had noticed them because of the postage stamp.
But it was some years since any of these letters had
come, and in fact as far as the official knew the cor-
respondence had stopped altogether. This was all he
could say about the matter, and it was all that Muller
wanted to know.
The worst contingency, the possibility that the real
Sergius Maximoff was alive and in his home, had not
occurred. The only danger now was that there might
be a certificate of his death in existence in Wenden.
This possibility did not worry Muller much. He
knew that he would be able to cope with it, as he had
funds at his disposal and his own quick wits to rely
upon. It was his intention really to obtain the papers
for Maximoff — even if they would never be used in
the way the Russian wanted to use them. They
would be ready for Karl to hand to him in Oswiecim
as arranged. Muller was very anxious to know what
would happen then, and he did not intend to lose the
opportunity of finding out. Possibly nothing would
happen at all. It may have been a mere chance that
this obscure little town was chosen as the meeting-
place. Maximoff had to stay away from his home
for a certain length of time anyway, as those he left
behind supposed him in Russia. He would have to
meet his representative somewhere along the line of
the journey, so why not Oswiecim as well as any
place? Whether this was the case, or whether Mul-


218 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
center of town. He walked through the quiet streets,
wrapped in the hush of the early northern night, his
own thoughts spreading a cloud about him heavier
than the leaden pall on the sky above. When he met
Karl and they had retired to their own rooms after
supper, he told the story of his afternoon. The re-
cital of what he had learned so excited the young
man that he tossed restlessly for the greater part of
the night.
Before noon the following day Karl handed Muller
the three documents that were the official reason for
their journey. There was no difficulty in getting
them and it was only to hasten the deliberation of
governmental procedure that Karl was obliged to ex-
pend some of the money Maximoff had given him for
the purpose.
The two men left Wenden that same afternoon,
taking the express to St. Petersburg. But Karl ar-
rived alone in the Imperial city. His patron had
given him two days' leave to look about him in this
famous town, the second city of importance in the
Russian Empire. Muller himself left the train at
Dorpat, after arranging that Karl should meet him
there on the third day following. Left alone, Muller
went to his hotel and retired early. Next morn-
ing a two-horse carriage which he had ordered
was waiting for him as soon as the tardy northern
day had broken. Far out into the country he drove,
all through the short hours of daylight, past many
little villages and wayside lakes with quiet black
waters, over rough wooden bridges crossing streams
already quieting down for their winter sleep, through
miles and miles of dreary moorland and gloomy pine
forests. Finally as the sun was already setting in
the west, the horses stopped their tireless trot in front
of a modest little wayside inn, where Muller spent the
night.


222 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
elsewhere. When the three days had passed he got
the papers. But there had been a lot of red tape
and bother about it, particularly about the fact that
Maximoff had not come himself, or taken the usual
political routine through the Consulate.
“In short, I had to dip into your purse a bit and
relieve it of some of its contents,” the young man
concluded. “But you were ready for that con-
tingency and the main thing is that you have your
papers."
“And a great burden is lifted from my mind,"
said the doctor cheerfully. “I cannot tell you how
happy it makes me. Thanks — hearty thanks, that
you carried out the affair so cleverly. Here is the
money you were to receive for your services. But
now tell me, why did you want to continue the journey
at once? Why didn't you want to stop over night
in Oswiecim?"
“Why, I suddenly remembered that if I went right
on, it would give me time to stop off at Prerau and
visit dear friends of mine whom I haven't seen for
some time. Business calls me back to Vienna, but if
I save twenty-four hours now I would still have a
little time with them.”
“That was a good idea,” observed the doctor.
“ Then we will part in Prerau — forever probably."
“ That will be entirely as you wish it, sir,” replied
Münzer, modestly.
Then they lit their cigars and chatted for a while
about indifferent subjects. But Karl noticed that
Maximoff seemed uneasy about something. Know-
ing what he did, it was not difficult for him to guess
what was troubling the other. He was anxious to
get the dangerous moment over with, so he began
himself to speak of the subject that might lead to
the question he was waiting for. He began to talk
of Wenden, what a quaint little town it was, and


224 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
waving his hand to the young man, who himself stood
on the platform until the train was out of sight.
Left alone, Maximoff took out the documents again
and read them through. A tender smile illumined his
eyes and curved his lips. As he put the papers back
into his pocket, he murmured gently: “ Suzanne —
my darling Suzanne.”
His heart was light and free, a thousand rosy
visions flashed through his brain, — life was opening
out before him at its fairest.
And yet only a thin partition lay between him and
his fate, for in the next compartment sat Joseph
Muller.


226 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
interrupted and finished the sentence himself, “ then
there's nothing more to be done in the matter.”
"No," repeated Mr. Hartmann, “there's nothing
more to be done in the matter, it's all quite clear now
— absolutely clear.” He said the words very slowly
and very thoughtfully. There was a sad gravity in
his eyes for which the amusing account he had just
given did not supply the motive in any way.
These sad, dark eyes rested quietly on the charming
group of Suzanne and Maximoff. The man was
bending gracefully forward as the girl turned the
soft oval of her cheek up to him and he fastened an
earring into the delicately tinted lobe of her ear.
They were a pair of unusually shaped ornaments
which Maximoff had brought his betrothed as a re-
minder of his Russian journey. One of the ear-
rings would not stay closed, which was the reason
of the doctor's present occupation with it.
Muller's eyes, dimmed and darkened by the
thoughts within as he looked at the attractive couple,
suddenly grew sharp and keen and focused imme-
diately on the ornament in Suzanne's ear. He
realized first that he had seen these earrings in Maxi-
moff's cabinet of curiosities and wondered that
Suzanne had not seen them too. They were a rather
peculiar setting, the French fleur de lys in diamonds
hanging from a single jewel of considerable size which
was inserted in the ear. He knew, of course, that
Maximoff had not been to Russia but that he was
obliged to make those around him believe that he had
taken the journey. This first little deception about the
earrings was clear to Muller, but under it was a dim
memory of something else connected with the jewel.
Suddenly he knew what it was, and the quick
vibration of every nerve through Muller's frame
translated itself into such a violent movement of Mr.
Hartmann's left hand that he had almost upset his


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 227
wine glass. Fortunately only “almost,” otherwise
the claret in the glass would have made an ugly
stain on the snowy cloth. The hand lay quiet on the
table now, and the fingers, which had been drawn
together as if in a cramp, slowly straightened them-
selves out again.
“ You are not well?" asked Mrs. Plöhn gently and
sympathetically, so that he alone could hear. “Or
have you lost more than you are willing to tell us?”
Mr. Hartmann bowed his thanks to the gentle hos-
tess and replied: “No, that is not it, kind friend.
But it was a sudden shock, a painful surprise that up-
set me for a moment."
“ Why, how strange," said the lady. “A painful
surprise? Here? Now ? "
Mr. Hartmann drew her hand gallantly to his lips.
“Don't let us speak of it,” he pleaded. “ Some little
incident, unimportant in itself, will often bring up a
painful memory. I need not assure you that what
I said a moment back had nothing whatever to do
with -” Hartmann stopped as if seeking for words
to finish his sentence and turned his attention rather
too markedly to the dish of fruit handed him at this
moment by the maid. “Oh, how beautiful!” he ex-
claimed, “what a charming arrangement of form and
color.” It took him some time to sufficiently admire
the attractive dish and to choose what he wanted him-
self. This enabled him to forget to finish his sen-
tence.
“ Then you too are nervous sometimes," said
Plöhn, who sat at his other side. “Even you cannot
always control your feelings? I thought you one of
the most perfectly poised natures I have ever met.”
“I'm afraid you overestimate me," returned Hart-
mann smiling. “ Although of course you could not
know the struggles I have had to learn outer com-
posure at least."


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 229
Muller was startled to his very heart by it. It was
as if his thoughts had taken visible form and shape in
his eyes, and this sensitive woman-soul had seen the
picture, the doom that would so terribly change her
own life.
Mrs. Plöhn rose from the table and her guests fol-
lowed her example. Still under the impression made
by the conversation of a moment or two before, the
company bowed to one another silently as if not in
the mood for the usual spoken greetings which are
a pleasant habit of the close of a meal in all Teutonic
countries. One person alone, Bauer, not quite fine-
feeling enough to recognize the mood of the others,
broke the little pause with a loud, harsh: “ Prost
Mahlzeit.”
Then something happened which gave a second and
more severe surprise to the little gathering. Mr.
Hartmann lost control of his nerves again. And this
time Bauer's remark was the cause of it. The book-
keeper was in the habit of joining in the usual Austrian
expression used on such occasions. But once in a
very great while, and this happened to be one of the
times, he would affect the traveled man and use the
North German “Prost Mahlzeit.” Hartmann
wheeled around as he heard it, stared right in Bauer's
face and then gave a loud short laugh. It was a
laugh full of scorn and the glance of Hartmann's
eyes, which seemed to run the bookkeeper through and
through, was equally scornful. The two ladies were
startled out of their usual composure by this aston-
ishing impoliteness on the part of their polished and
considerate guest. Gebhart shook his head and Plöhn
and Maximoff exchanged surprised glances. Bauer
flushed and moved a step forward towards the man
whose laugh had sounded like a deliberate insult.
“What do you mean?” he said, in a tone that was
like a hiss of anger.


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 231
life will be in danger if I do not play my part well.
About noon to-morrow my life will be hanging on a
thread. There isn't an insurance company in the
world that would take the risk if they knew the par-
ticulars. But even at this price there is nothing in
the whole world that would compensate me for the
loss of that hour that is to come — it will be the most
interesting experience of my life. And he lets her
wear those earrings! When I suddenly realized
where they came from it upset me completely. I
must be growing old to lose my grip on myself like
that. And then this · Prost Mahlzeit.' Such a ridic-
ulous, such a silly affair as that other is, but it was
just the straw that broke the camel's back. I don't
know what those dear people will think of me. Well,
we'll get through somehow till to-morrow, and to-
morrow the bomb will burst. To-morrow —! And
those enormous footprints that I saw down there by
the gate? They have added another sensation to
this case. Every day I ask myself why he does not
kill ‘Mr. Hartmann,' for he must have recognized
the latter as his enemy. That is the biggest riddle
of all. I hope that to-morrow I will find the solution
for it also. Provided I am alive to-morrow, that is
— for it's not at all certain. My conduct was foolish
to-night under the circumstances, why I directly
challenged the man to end it all himself. It would
be easy enough to put a bomb under this little house
here, still — the man's recklessness and audacity are
so great that it probably affords him the keenest pleas-
ure to play with me as a cat plays with a mouse. No,
on second thoughts, I doubt if my sleep will be dis-
turbed to-night.”
All these thoughts passed through the old detective's
mind as his eyes wandered over the dreary sweep of
the Black Moor, to which the moonlight gave a veiled
charm it did not possess by day. Muller's pulses beat


232 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
hastily, the blood throbbed at his temples, but his in-
most soul was calm and the brain behind the quiet
gray eyes was keen as steel.
Suddenly he started back from the window, for he
had just heard the sound of a footfall outside. Some-
one was walking about the pavilion, inside the wall.
Muller listened for a moment, then crept out of the
room and opened the front door softly. He slipped
down the steps unseen and hid himself behind the
bush that stood at the foot of the stairs. But he had
scarcely found his position before he left it again
and came out into the moonlight, saying with a light
laugh: “Oh, it's you is it? Then you couldn't wait
till to-morrow? You absolutely had to know to-day
how I found out your secret?”
The man who stood before him was Bauer, the
moonlight lying full on his pale ugly face, which was
less repulsive than usual because it bore so clearly an
expression of fear and shame. The soft heart of
the old detective awoke again. “Poor soul! what a
petty coward it is anyway,” he thought to himself.
Then he said aloud, with a calm severe voice: “ But
you are quite mistaken if you think that I intend to
answer any questions of yours. It will be quite the
other way around.”
“I-I am ready for anything you wish,” stam-
mered Bauer. "I will answer any questions — and
give any satisfaction that may be demanded of me."
Muller smiled scornfully. “ All that is demanded
of you is that you make an humble apology, a written
apology stating that you were the sender of the two
stupid and malicious anonymous letters received by
Lieutenant Erlach. If you do this, I'll promise you
that the affair is closed forever.”
“I'll — I'll do it,” stammered the poor coward
again. And Muller answered: “Very well then,
and now you can go home and go to sleep."


234 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
I know Lieutenant Erlach, that he showed me the let-
ters, that I suggested jealousy as a motive for writ-
ing them, furthermore, that Miss von Feldern was
questioned and told us that some unknown admirer
sent her poems and flowers while she was living in
the country — also that her landlady there had a son
who — appears to have been something like you.
Furthermore, you may also suppose that Mr. Plöhn
happened one day to mention that you are a poet in
secret and that you send flowers to a lady whose name
he does not know. I scarcely noticed what he told
me about you for my head was full of a more im-
portant matter. Besides which, your name is Bauer
and the mother of the man Miss von Feldern men-
tioned is a Mrs. von Probst.”
“Was,” interrupted the bookkeeper. “My mother
has been dead for nearly two years now. Mr. von
Probst was her second husband.”
“Oh, indeed!”
Now it was Muller's turn to blush hotly as he
realized that he had been caught in a bit of careless-
ness. He should have known long ago that Bauer
was the writer of those two letters. A few simple
questions or one look at the police records would have
told him what he wanted to know. Of course from
the very beginning he had treated the matter of the
letters as of little importance and it had had nothing
whatever to do with his coming to Inzersdorf. But
it was a mistake on his part to forget any detail that
might in any way be connected with the principal mat-
ter in hand. Muller was very much dissatisfied with
himself and whenever this happened he was always
extremely considerate of others. He laid his hand
now on Bauer's arm and spoke in a tone of fatherly
kindness.
“ We are all liable to err," he said. “ But try not
to let yourself be dragged into any such meanness


238 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
twenty-crown notes that the guest laid on the table.
When she had shut the door behind her, Muller said
to himself: “Well, that's settled. Now I'll put
something for Wilhelm under the brush there. When
you're going into battle as I am, it's best to arrange
these little things beforehand.”
Muller enjoyed his breakfast thoroughly, then
packed his trunk and his grip, looking out of the
window from time to time as he did so. When every-
thing was in its place and there was nothing more
to be done, Muller could devote himself entirely to
the inspection of the surrounding scenery, and it ap-
peared to interest him more than ever that morning.
It was nearly ten o'clock when he saw a pedlar com-
ing towards him along the street, quite an ordinary
pedlar such as might be seen anywhere along the coun-
try roads. Muller's eyes watched this pedlar carefully.
When the man came along the road to a point right
under the window of the pavilion, he stopped, doffed
his hat and said respectfully: “ Can I show the gentle-
man some cuff buttons or an eyeglass cord ? And I
have some fine new suspenders too."
Muller replied that he did not need anything just
now, and asked the man how business was these
days.
“Very good, thank you, sir. Everything is in
order, and arranged as well as anyone could wish.”
Muller seemed pleased to find someone who did not
complain of poor business, for he waved a friendly
hand to the man before he left the window. As he
turned back into the room he smiled as if content.
“This former ne'er-do-weel is turning out quite a use-
ful lad,” he thought. Then he repeated the words
with sudden gravity: “ Everything is in order and
all is arranged — I can leave here in three-quarters of
an hour.”
For a span he stood motionless, lost in his thoughts.


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 239
Then, seeming to awake again to the exigencies of
the present, he walked over to a little table that stood
between the windows, and took up three articles that
lay there. They were a small but wicked looking
revolver, a little silver whistle, and a small bottle with
a very wide mouth. The bottle was closed with a
metal cap and contained a clear liquid.
Muller put the revolver in his right coat pocket and
hid the whistle in his vest. Before he put the little
bottle in its place he tried its stopper. This was, as has
just been said, a metal cap, a rather deep cap for the
size of the bottle and its outer surface was roughened
to make it the more easily handled. With a single
scarcely perceptible turn of his fingers Muller opened
this cap, but he shut it again equally quickly. For in
the fleeting instant it was open, the sharp fumes that
arose with deadly vigor betrayed the fact that the
bottle was filled with chloroform. When Muller had
assured himself that the cap was in good working
order, he put the bottle in another coat pocket. The
pockets of Muller's coats were all of unusual capacity,
were lined with leather, and had little inner compart-
ments, so that heavy objects carried in these pockets
could not move about as he walked, and attract at-
tention from the outside.
Now that he had equipped himself for the serious
business of this day, he left his room and went over
to the factory. He sought out the manager, chatted
with him a while and asked casually whether Plöhn
intended to remain in his office the rest of the morn-
ing. Plöhn replied in the affirmative. While Mul-
ler was in the office, Bauer entered on some busi-
ness errand.
“Say, what was the matter with you two last even-
ing?” Plöhn asked at once. Bauer blushed hotly
but Hartmann answered calmly: “ It was a little mat-
ter that concerned no one but ourselves. Mr. Bauer


240 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
came to my room last evening and we talked it over
and settled it quite satisfactorily."
This might not have been an explanation, but it
was a decided hint in protest of further curiosity.
Plöhn understood, but he was not offended, for he.
knew that Hartmann was saving Bauer some embar-
rassment. The bookkeeper's expression of the even-
ing before had plainly shown that whatever it was, he
was at fault. Muller stayed in the office until quar-
ter to eleven, then he bade farewell to the manager
and walked down the road to Rose Cottage. He
walked slowly, his head bowed and at times a deep
breath that was almost a sigh welled up from his very
heart.


I AM THE MAN WITH THE BLACK
CHAPTER XVI
“I AM THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD.”
ROSE COTTAGE lay on a main road, and not far from
it was a neat little country inn. The inn was an old
building with a wide courtyard and a large garden
stretching far away from the back of the house. One
end of this garden, with its fencing of high green
hedge, was separated only by a small strip of grassy
meadow from Maximoff's property.
Just as Muller passed the inn two closed cabs
drove in under the archway of the old-fashioned
building. There was nothing remarkable in this, for
although the inn was little used by the more well-to-
do inhabitants of the neighborhood, it was quite a
gathering place for cabmen who had brought a fare
out into the country and were resting a bit before
returning to town. One thing however was notice-
able on this occasion and that was that the two wag-
ons did not stop in the courtyard as usual, but drove
right through down to the furthest end of the gar-
den. Also the observer might have seen that the cur-
tains on all the windows of the cabs were drawn. But
there was no one to notice this, for there was no one
in the courtyard of the inn except the host of the
Eagle himself, who stood in his doorway.
“Drive right on in, there's no one in the court-
yard nor in the garden and the key is in the gate.”
This was what he said to the leading driver. The
two cabs drove on unseen, down to the gate in the
fence which was hidden by the thick hedge. Through
241


242 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
was Diwall, hBut tmeadowe cott
this gate one could pass out onto the meadows which
lay between the inn and Rose Cottage. The latter
was protected from the outer world by a very high
brick wall, having a handsome entrance gate on the
street side. But there was a smaller gate at the back
opening onto the meadow.
No one living in Rose Cottage knew that this back
gate had been unlocked since early morning, that it
had been opened from the outside and that the gar-
den was now accessible to anyone. When the cabs
stopped in front of the inn garden gate, five men
alighted from the closed wagons, slipped through
the gate, across the grassy lane and into the garden
of Rose Cottage. One of these men was Constable
Kern, a second wore the uniform of a city police of-
ficial. The three other men in plain clothes were
heavily built individuals with calm eyes and indiffer-
ent mien. The five men slipped from one bush to
another, safely hidden from the house, until they had
come several yards from the gate. Here they stopped
on the near side of the circle of peculiarly-cut box
which surrounded a young cedar. One of the men
carried a spade and immediately began to dig at the
earth with it. The two other men in plain clothes
continued their creeping progress toward the house.
With a little care they could come quite near the
dwelling without being seen as Maximoff's fondness
for arrangements of evergreens gave them sufficient
cover. There was no dog in Rose Cottage and the
two maid servants were busy in the house. When
the two men had come quite close to the dwelling
house they stood watching and listening, without go
ing further.
The bell of the front garden gate shrilled through
the quiet air. The long window opening on to the
terrace was thrown back, and a carefully dressed gen-
tleman came out, whistling a merry tune. He laid


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
243
down the magazine he carried onto a little table and
walked on down the few steps from the terrace.
“That's him," whispered one of the listeners to
his companion. They crouched down the more care-
fully behind the evergreens. Maximoff turned on the
top step and looked back to the house. “Stay where
you are,” he called to the woman who appeared at the
door. “ I'll open the gate. But don't forget to bring
us in something to eat. I am very hungry.”
“No, sir, I'll attend to it. Mrs. Schober told me
what to get for you,” answered the woman, who was
evidently the cook, before she disappeared from the
doorway. The doctor had turned the corner of the
house and the men behind the evergreens could no
longer see him. But in a few moments he returned
arm in arm with his guest.
"Don't you want to look at my newly blossoming
chrysanthemums?” asked Maximoff. “ They are
white as milk and most unusually beautiful.” He
pulled his guest gently in the direction of the conserv-
atory, but the latter did not follow the pressure.
“No, my dear doctor," he said, “I want to talk to
you about something much more serious to-day.
Can't we go into the house? It will be easier for me
to talk to you in your attractive study. And I have
something to tell you that will surprise you greatly.”
“Oh, indeed!”
“Yes, it is the physician I come to see to-day, not
the friend alone.”
The two men stood on the terrace now, in front
of the long open window.
“ You aren't well?” the men behind the bushes
heard Maximoff say. “I noticed it yesterday — at
least you are not as calm as usual.”
“ No," replied Hartmann, leaning on the railing
as if for support. “I was very restless yesterday,
as I have been for several days. There is a crisis


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
245
.
we are enjoying the refreshments. Does that pro-
gram appeal to you?”
Mr. Hartmann took the hand that was stretched
out to him and pressed it warmly. “ There is no
reason why it shouldn't,” he said. “I feel calmer al-
ready. You have something that is almost like hyp-
notism in your strength. I feel as if you could force
me to believe you whether I wanted to or not."
“Is that really true?” asked the doctor and his
eyes gleamed. “But here's our lunch," he said as the
door opened. He rose from his chair and examined
the contents of the various plates and dishes on the
big silver tray.
“There, this looks all right — now bring us over
those cigars," said the doctor to the cook, “and then
you can vanish again. And see that I am not dis-
turbed under any circumstances. I am not at home
to any one now.”
“ Very well, sir.”
When the woman had brought over the cigars and
cigarettes and had left the room, Maximoff locked the
three inner doors of the study and came back to the
table. He sought out the choicest morsels for his
guest, but Mr. Hartmann seemed to have very little
appetite that morning.
He had scarcely taken a few bites when he pushed
back his plate and said, in a voice that was not natural
with him, “ You are very kind, doctor, but I cannot
eat it, I really cannot. My throat seems closed up."
This was the actual truth. The soft-hearted Mul-
ler was really suffering from some of the symptoms
of excitement and anxiety which he had described.
Maximoff himself was quite alarmed now. He put
down his knife and fork, took a hasty swallow of
brandy, then reached over the table and caught at his
guest's hand.
“Why, your hand's like ice,” he said, " and your


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 247
quite intimately now for several weeks, and who had
always appeared to him absolutely normal and sane.
And now this man came to him acting in a way
that was decidedly not normal, telling him himself
that there was something wrong with his mind, and
certainly, looking it. Maximoff knew all the symp-
toms, particularly this sudden cunning, this unmotiv-
ated merriment. He was certain that he was in the
presence of a man whose mind was affected. He was
very sorry for Hartmann, whom he had grown to
like. But his love for the study of the sick mind
overcame his pity for his friend. He pulled his chair
nearer to his visitor and began his questioning.
“Well, suppose you are right?” began the doc-
tor with a delicate smile. “What do you say now?"
“I say that you are still mistaken.”
“Indeed! Then you mean to say -—".
“I mean to say that I know what the matter with
me is and who I really am — and I know that there
are moments like those yesterday when I come near
betraying myself.”
“Oh, I see, you are afraid that although you are
mentally quite normal, others will think you insane."
“ That is it exactly.”
“And why do you fear that?”
“Because I cannot always control myself. Be-
cause every now and then I am forced to do what
They insist upon.”
“Who are They?"
“Had I better tell you that?” Hartmann's eyes
took on a renewed look of sly cunning.
“You are quite safe in telling me,” said Maximoff,
lighting a cigarette and handing his guest the box of
cigars. Hartmann took one and smoked so hastily
that he was soon surrounded by a pale cloud. The
doctor pulled his chair still nearer. He did not want
to lose the changing expressions on the other's face.


248 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
“Well, aren't you going to tell me," he said, as
Hartmann sat staring ahead of him and smiling
weirdly.
“I can't tell you,” he murmured finally.
“Why can't you?”
“ Because They — have no names."
“I don't understand.”
“ You'll understand as soon as I tell you more.
But first I want to know if you can give me some
medicine.”
“What sort of medicine do you want?”
“I want something to quiet my nerves. Something
to give me back the control over myself, so that I do
not draw people's attention to me by some ridiculous
stupidity.”
“What stupidity do you mean?”.
“Why, yesterday for instance. You saw how ab-
surdly I acted. And didn't you notice how they all
looked at me when I nearly upset the wineglass and
then when I laughed at Bauer's remark and said such
stupid things."
“Yes, I did notice it.”
“Well, there you see! And I do not want to draw
people's attention to me."
“Why not?”
“ Because if I do attract too much attention -
then I'm done for.”
“Now I don't understand you at all."
“I believe that. You haven't the faintest idea who
I really am.”
“ Aren't you Robert Hartmann, landowner from
Poland ?”
Maximoff's guest laughed heartily. He beat his
hands on his knees and choked in the violence of his
merriment. “Robert Hartmann," he repeated and
could scarcely say the words clearly, so shaken was he
by his fits of laughter. Finally, he had controlled


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 249
himself and now it was he who pulled his chair nearer
to the other.
“You're quite sure no one can hear us,” he whis-
pered.
The doctor shook his head. “No one. We are
quite undisturbed here," he replied soothingly.
“You are such a versatile man," continued the
other. “You are not only a physician, you are a
philosopher as well and I understand you are in-
terested, as a philosopher, in every phase of mental
abnormality.”
“ Yes, certainly, certainly.”
“And among other things, in one branch of the sci-
ence of the soul which is the most illuminating."
“ What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that you are greatly interested, or I
have understood that you are, in crime and criminals.
Or rather --" Hartmann punctuated his remarks with
a scornful gesture. “Or rather, in that which the
weaklings, and the cowards, call crime.”
A golden gleam shot up in the doctor's dark eyes
and a peculiar smile curved his well-cut mouth.
“A great many of the books in your splendid li-
brary concern this fascinating chapter of human ex-
istence.” Hartmann continued to speak without wait-
ing for any answer. “ And I noticed that for years
you have been collecting all those copies of our lead-
ing newspapers which give reports of important crim-
inal cases of recent times.”
“Yes, you are right, but why do you speak of that
now?”
“I will explain in a few moments. You believe
then that I am Robert Hartmann from Poland ?
Landed proprietor and respectable houseowner? ”
“Well?” Maximoff's face expressed great in-
terest. The golden gleams in his dark eyes clustered
to brilliant points of light.


250 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
“But I'm not - I'm somebody else," said his guest,
looking about anxiously. “But you're the only
person I shall tell the truth to."— His eyes closed to
narrow slits and his voice took on a threatening tone
as he continued : “ Professional etiquette demands
that you should hold my confidence an absolute secret
- therefore I am going to make you a confession -
a confession that I must make to someone or I shall
go mad. I know that I would really become insane
if I could not tell somebody who I am.”
The doctor breathed quicker. His face flushed and
his voice was hoarse as he asked: “Who are you,
then?”
His guest bent over until their faces almost touched
and whispered: “If you look over the files of your
newspapers from 1892 until 1906, you will see that
during these years thirty-one murder cases occurred
in Vienna, murder cases of which robbery was the
motive. Twenty-four of the criminals were caught,
notice this — only twenty-four. Seven remained un-
discovered and free. On the 15th of April, 1892, the
woman Schramm, keeper of a little tap-room in the
fifteenth district, was murdered. On the 8th of Au-
gust, 1897, Thomas Brabenec was discovered stabbed
to death in a grove outside the city. On the 26th of
May, 1904, an old woman by the name of Faron,
widow of a railway switchman, was found dead in
her house. Please notice how easily these figures
come to me. There are certain dates one does not
forget."
"Well, go on-go on,” said Maximoff eagerly.
His face had regained its usual clear pallor, but the
gleam in his eyes had grown wilder and a wicked
smile played about his half-open mouth. His strong
white hand held his guest's arm as if in a vise, and
his voice sank to a hoarse whisper.
Mr. Hartmann smiled also; he was now quite calm,


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 251
and seemed absolutely cold and indifferent as to the ef-
fect of his narrative on the other. There was a tone
of scorn in his voice as he took up his story. “The
murderers — or rather the murderer of these three
unfortunates has never been found. The police and
the public are still laboring under the delusion that it
was a case of murder for robbery." Maximoff's
guest laughed aloud, as his eyes, bright with mocking
merriment, met the Russian's wild gaze.“ Absurd
isn't it! As if we, who can make thousands by one
blow if we want to, would murder for the sake of a
few crowns! Why, I can tell you that the Schramm
woman had exactly seven crowns, eighteen hellars in
her till! Brabenec had less than six crowns in his
pocket, and the poor old Faron creature hadn't enough
money in her whole little hut for me to pay the cab
back to my home. But the rest of the world don't
understand. The herd of ordinary weaklings can't
understand the keen sensation that lies in killing for
the sheer sake of killing."
Maximoff's hand tightened on the arm of his guest
with a grip of iron. His face was terrible. It was
frozen into a smile that might have expressed the
evil of a fiend in hell. His eyes alone were alive —
they rested greedily, with a sort of devilish satisfac-
tion on the man who sat there, telling him these
things. Muller's hand still held the cigar which had
gone out.
“My dear doctor, won't you give me a light?”
said the detective calmly. In spite of his self-control
he was anxious to get rid of that deadly grasp on
his arm. He lit the cigar again, took a few puffs and
continued :
“Now you know my secret. But you đon't know
my name yet. It isn't really necessary that you should
know it. It's enough that you know now that I am
the mysterious murderer who has given the authori-


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 253
For the last few minutes Muller had held his cigar
in his left hand. Now with a casual unobtrusive
movement, he dropped his right hand into the coat
pocket which contained the bottle of chloroform.
Then he answered in a tone of astonishment: “Why,
haven't you understood yet? Of course it's the Er-
lach case I mean.”
Maximoff sprang from his chair, a hot wave of
blood rushing up to his very temples. He looked
dazed, bewildered. He pressed both hands to his
forehead, measured the length of the room a few
times with long strides, then halted suddenly in front
of his guest and burst into an uproarious fit of laugh-
ter. He put out his hand to a chair as if for support,
so greatly was he shaken by the violence of his merri-
ment. Hartmann looked up at him in indignant sur-
prise.
“ Have you gone mad?” he exclaimed.
Maximoff pulled himself together and controlled
his laughter with an effort. “No, I am not mad, my
dear friend — but now I know what's the matter with
you."
Now it was Muller's turn to spring up. “What do
you mean by that?” he cried harshly. But the
doctor patted him on the shoulder and answered
soothingly. “Oh, nothing — nothing at all to
offend you. I was simply overcome by the idea that
you, Erlach's murderer, should deliberately come
here to watch the people who are hunting for him in
vain.'
Muller bowed as if flattered. “The best joke of
all happened on a Sunday two weeks ago,” he began
again.
The doctor went back to his chair and sat down.
The inward merriment against which he was still
fighting shone from his eyes and played about his
handsome mouth. “Oh, please, do tell me about it,"


254 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
he asked, biting his lips to keep back the laughter.
“ What happened two weeks ago then?”.
“ It was Sunday night. I went back to the Green
House as I did several times before. And what do
you suppose? One of those spying bunglers was
there also, a detective I mean — must have been the
detective you mentioned a little while ago.”
“Oh, that was a detective, was it?”
"I put him out in short order I can tell you. I
fired at him twice, but I'm sorry to say I didn't hit
him.”
“Oh, then it was you who did the shooting that
night?"
“ Then my valet, who had come to my help, and I,
walked back and forth, twisting and curving about
the moor. I wanted to cover our trail, for I knew
that the fool would be waiting for me and I didn't
want him to see where I was living. But I must
say he was cleverer than I thought. We didn't see
him again, but he must have followed us.”
“What? why do you believe that?” cut in Maxi-
moff, greatly surprised.
“I found his footprints in the mud outside the
garden gate next morning. Since then I have been
in a constant state of surprise that I should have been
left so undisturbed.”
“I don't believe that you would have been left un-
disturbed if the man had come there in pursuit of
you,” replied Maximoff, emphasizing each word
sharply, with a rolling anger in his voice. Then he
said, more brightly: “I give you my word the man
was there by pure accident. But now I want you to
tell me how. you did that trick in the Green House.
The whole thing is such a mystery that I am naturally
very curious to hear the explanation of it.” He
smiled at Muller ironically as he spoke.
“ It took me many weeks to think it out, to plan


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 255
menter lockech's sthe house
it all beforehand, as you may imagine,” began the de-
tective. “I hung about the garden wall in the
disguise of a pedlar and took a wax impression of
the three keyholes which barred the way to Erlach's
room, the garden gate and the two front doors, the
iron one and the inner one. Then I waited for a
stormy evening, when the noise of the wind should
deaden everything else, climbed over the garden wall,
opened the gate from the inside and opened the house
doors. I entered the house and Erlach's study, the
door of which I knew was never locked, for the old
gentleman might at any moment need the help of his
housekeeper. He was aged and feeble, and worried
about his health.” Muller stopped talking and took
a long puff from his cigar.
“Well, go on — tell me about it," insisted the
doctor.
Muller's eyes lit up again in cruel cunning. “Well,
then — then I shot Erlach," he remarked with a
smile.
The doctor gave a short hard laugh, then spoke
gently: “Well, my friend, go on, tell me the rest.”
“ Then I carried the body out onto the moor," nar-
rated Muller, losing himself again in the enjoyment
of his cigar. But Maximoff bent over and almost
tore it from his hand as he said: “I want you to
talk, not to smoke.”
“Why, what else is there to talk about?”
“ The greatest mystery of all — the mystery that
no one has as yet solved." Maximoff was quite calm
as he said this, his only sensation seemed to be an
over-weening curiosity.
“Oh, you mean the garden door bolted on the in-
side? Well, when I carried the body out, I went back
into the garden, locked and bolted the door and
climbed over the wall. That's simple enough.”.
“ Yes, that — and the strangling of an old man,


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 257
from the inside. Then I turned the key in the lock
of the study door in such a way that it only needed
the least little touch to snap the lock."
“Well, and then?” Maximoff's breath came
quickly and Muller's hand was clasped tightly around
the neck of the chloroform bottle in his pocket.
“Then,” he went on," then I took a long thin iron
rod with a hook on the end, which I had brought with
me, and when I had left the house, locking both
front doors, I went around in front of the sitting
room windows, and stood on the bench that is there.
I pushed the rod into the room through the open win-
dow and with its hook I could easily catch the key
of the door and turn it, snapping the lock. So that
you see in this way both doors were locked from the
inside and their keys were in the proper place. That
was no such great trick. But I committed a blunder
here. I had to leave a burning candle on the little
table so that I could see the lock distinctly. I wanted
to put out this candle with the end of the rod but it
was difficult to manage it, and I hit the burning wick
with such violence that the wax spattered all over the
table. Well, doctor, why don't you say some-
thing?"
Maximoff had sunk down in a heap in his chair,
completely absorbed in his thoughts. Finally he
raised his head, doubt, anxiety and scorn striving for
the mastery in his face. “And that's why you claim
to be the Man with the Black Cord?” he murmured,
rising and beginning again his uneasy pacing of the
room.
Muller rose also. He pushed his chair back so
that the door onto the terrace was free, and the heavy
armchair stood between him and Maximoff. He had
already taken the little bottle of chloroform from his
pocket and held it in his closed hand, thumb and first
finger in place on the nickel top. Then he waited.


258 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
At first Maximoff's anger seemed to gain the vic-
tory over his warring emotions, then a moment later
he controlled himself and his scorn came uppermost
again. He stopped still in the middle of the room,
both hands in his pockets, his voice hushed to a quiet
calm tone, while his eyes rested mockingly on those
of his guest.“ But you haven't finished your story.
Where did you hide Erlach's body?”
Muller pretended embarrassment. He stared at
the doctor as if quite bewildered. “ The body — the
body? Where did I hide it?” he murmured, then
after a pause: “I-I hid it —”
“Well, where did you hide it?" came from between
the doctor's set teeth.
Muller looked quite helpless. “I-I don't know
- I can't remember."
“ Then you hold your tongue,” screamed Maxi-
moff, but Muller persisted obstinately: “ All the
same I'm the Man with the Black Cord - here look
at this. I carry a piece of it with me wherever I
go."
He held out the bit of cord he had found on Er-
lach's bed, so that the other could see it. Maximoff
stared at it, his face reddened, the veins on his temples
pulsed audibly—“ You are a fool,” he cried —“ an
impertinent insolent idiot — how dare you usurp the
credit for a genius that you never possessed! Why
you fool — I am the Man with the Black Cord, I-
and I'll crush the life out of you — you —”.
He could get no further. He choked and gasped
and bent forward towards the slight figure of the
man who stood opposite him, his powerful hands
clenched threateningly, the great muscles of his shoul-
ders stiffening visibly through his coat. Muller made
a sudden movement of his right hand, then slipped
through the open door onto the terrace.


260 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
I who discovered his identity, and I was about to take
him prisoner when he overcame me with chloroform
and escaped.
“We'll find him," remarked the Commissioner
calmly. And Maximoff continued: “But you must
lose no time. I will hold you responsible if he
escapes entirely. You may better understand the im-
portance of what I say when I tell you that this Hart-
mann is the Man with the Black Cord, who has
Erlach's murder to his credit as well as the others.”
The Commissioner bowed in silence. At a gesture
from him, the attendants loosened the fetters on the
Russian's feet.
“Very well, we can go now," said Maximoff, ris-
ing from the chair. He was so exhausted that the at-
tendants had to support him as they walked from
the house and through the garden. A weird smile
brightened the Russian's gloomy face as the little
group moved slowly over the lawn towards the rear
fence. Then they turned the corner of a group of
fir trees and the quiet of the pleasant spot was broken
by a terrific scream. Maximoff stood still, his eyes
widened, staring at the devastated bed of box which
he himself had arranged a few weeks before. The
little cedar lay cut down and thrown to one side.
The rounded heads of box were torn ruthlessly out
and cast in a disorderly heap. Where they had been
the earth was removed from a long shallow trough
and in this trough lay the body of Leopold Erlach,
fully dressed, his nightshirt spread across his legs.
“Come, Doctor, the cabs are waiting," said the
Commissioner.
But Maximoff did not move. One more gasping
shriek and he fell unconscious to the ground.
At this moment Muller was already out in the road,
walking towards the factory. He walked very
slowly, his head sunk deep on his breast, his face


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 261
ghastly pale. When that horrible scream rang
through the quiet morning air he stopped in his walk
and turned to look behind him. His fingers worked
as if in a cramp, his teeth set firm and his breath
came in a gasp that was a sobbing sigh.


CHAPTER XVII
WHERE THE BLOW FALLS
ABOUT an hour after the catastrophe in Rose Cot-
tage, General-Manager Plöhn had already eaten his
lunch and was back in his office. He had not taken
up the burden of his work yet but sat leaning back
in a comfortable armchair reading a paper and smok-
ing. His servant Wilhelm hurried in with a card on
a salver.
“ This gentleman asks to see you at once," said the
man.
Plöhn looked at him in astonishment and asked:
“Why, what's the matter? you're shaking all over.”
“It's so like him, sir — and yet it isn't him," stam-
mered Wilhelm.
Plöhn shook his head and touched his forehead
with one finger. “There's a screw loose with you
somewhere,” he said laughing. He looked at the card
before him. It bore the name of Joseph Muller.
“ Show the gentleman in," said Plöhn, laying aside
his paper. The manager was prepared for some
surprise after seeing his servant's bewilderment. He
watched the door with interest, but when it opened
and his visitor entered Plöhn himself appreciated
what had happened to Wilhelm. The man who stood
before him was an inch or so shorter than Hartmann
and weighed considerably less. Also he was quite
differently dressed, but apart from this the resem-
blance was astonishing. Plöhn put his hand to his
forehead as if fearing for his own brain now, and
looked down again at the name on the card.
262


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 263
“ Joseph Muller? Joseph Muller?” he murmured.
“I never saw such a likeness before.”
“Nor did I,” said Joseph Muller in Hartmann's
voice as he closed the door.
The manager, who had risen at the other's en-
trance, sat down again and stared up at his caller.
He shook his head and seemed too bewildered to
find words.
“May I sit down?” asked Joseph Muller, pulling
a chair near to the desk.
“Please do,” murmured Plöhn, wondering to him-
self whether he were not taking his afternoon nap at
the moment and dreaming all this.' Then Joseph Mul-
ler spoke:
“ It was under the name of Robert Hartmann
from Poland, that I enjoyed your delightful hos-
pitality.”
“Then you are not the man you let us believe you
to be?” questioned the manager slowly, as if trying
to understand.
Muller put his tall hat down on the edge of the
table, unbuttoned his black coat and took a portfolio
from his pocket. From this he drew a large card
and handed it to Plöhn.
“ This is who, and what, I am,” he said.
Plöhn looked at the photograph on the card and
the official statement of the police department that
accompanied it. His face was very grave as he
handed the paper back to Muller.
“ Then you are a detective?” he said.
“ Yes, I am a detective. I think I need not tell
you that I came here to investigate the Erlach case."
“I imagined that was it. But my chief, the Baron,
knows who it is that he sent to me?”
“Naturally. I could not have come without his as-
sistance. This may be some excuse for my presence
here.”


264 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
“ You need no excuse Mr.— Muller. You were a
welcome guest — and you have endeared yourself to
us all."
Muller bowed and pressed the other's hand warmly.
“And now I have come to thank you for all your
kindness, your sincere cordiality.”
Plöhn looked down at the little man before him,
whose face was so grave and who seemed struggling
to suppress a sadness which threatened to overcome
him. “ Then you are going away?” the manager
asked. “You have not been successful here?
They're going to send another detective?”
"I am going away because there is nothing more
to do here."
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that Erlach's murderer has been discov-
ered and is already in security."
“At last! oh, but wait a minute. I mustn't be the
only one to hear that. Let's go over and join the
ladies.” Plöhn rose from his chair but Muller shook
his head.
“ Please sit down again, Mr. Plöhn. I cannot tell
the ladies what I have to tell you."
“Why not?”
“ Please, won't you sit down?”
There are moments in the lives of all of us when
we have the instant recognition that something ter-
rible is nearing us. We do not know what it is,
nor from what side it is coming, but we know that
it is coming, and that it is something horrible. For
the first time in his life, the robust, good-natured and
easy-going Plöhn realized that such a moment had
come for him. He sat down, drew a deep breath
and looked up anxiously at his visitor.
“I could not tell your sister especially, not at
least until you know," said Muller low.
Plöhn bent forward in his chair, in evident excite-


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 265
ment. He swallowed hard several times, then spoke
with difficulty: “ What — what do you mean -
“ It is you who must tell Miss Suzanne.” Muller
too was hoarse.
“I- I don't understand you," murmured Plöhn.
“Oh, yes, you understand me perfectly well.”
“ Mr. Hartmann - Mr. Muller -”
“I left Rose Cottage less than an hour ago."
“It's some mistake — some horrible mistake,”
gasped the manager.
“Unfortunately — there is no mistake possible
here."
“ Sergius --”
“Sergius is not his name."
“ Maximoff —”
“ That is not his name.”
“If it is thought that he killed Erlach -"
“It is known that he killed Erlach.”
“ Then he did it in anger. He is easily aroused
- and passionate — and he is so strong — a death
blow might be given before he thought it —"
" It was a murder — a carefully prearranged mur-
der, a crime that was carried out with the same care,
the same cleverness and the same daring as the —
“ As the ” Plöhn's icy hand caught at Muller's
fingers, scarcely less icy, his eyes seemed starting from
their sockets. Muller finished his sentence: “ As
were the other crimes that he has committed."
Plöhn tried to speak but only gasped.
“For he is the Man with the Black Cord.”
Plöhn's face was ghastly, and on Muller's brow
the great beads of perspiration stood out. He wiped
them away, then he continued sadly: “You see how
I am obliged to reward all your hospitality. But I
have one comfort for you."
“A comfort? How could there be any comfort
here."


266 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
“ Maximoff is insane."
Plöhn looked up, startled afresh.
“ Is not that some comfort to you?” asked the de-
tective.
He did not know whether Plöhn had even heard
him. The poor man sat there frozen to stone, look-
ing out into blankness with eyes that were dumb in
grief. In this horrible moment, he first realized how
fond he had grown of Maximoff. Then he thought
of his sister and a shudder ran through every fibre of
his robust frame. For he realized that it was he who
must tell this girl so dear to him, this woman happy
in her love, dreaming of how a few weeks more would
make her a happy wife,- he must tell her that the
man she loved was the monster who had held the
entire neighborhood in terror for so long. When
he realized what the truth had meant to him, the
strong man, he shuddered to think of the crushing
blow it would be to her. He groaned aloud and cov-
ered his face with his hands. He sat thus for many
minutes, and Muller too, was quite still. He under-
stood the other's suffering, and he gave him time to
recover from the first shock. .
It was very quiet in the comfortable little office.
A soft hum of distant noises came from the direc-
tion of the factory, but within the room nothing was
heard except the ticking of the clock and the deep
gasping breath of the stricken man. Finally Plöhn
raised his head and straightened himself up in his
chair. He had conquered the first dreadful moment
of the shock; a certain frozen calm came into his
face.
“ Now — now you can tell me what you have to
tell.” His voice sounded hard.
Muller told his story. He told of how he had re-
ceived the first hint when he saw the picture of
Napoleon which Maximoff had shown him as one of


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 267
ren was thed Andurney
his art treasures, and of which he already knew that
it had been in Erlach's possession up to two days be-
fore the latter's disappearance. He spoke of the visit
of the detective Greng at Rose Cottage and told the
story of the journey to Russia. He described his
visit to old Andreas Maximoff in Wenden and that
it was there he had first heard about Nikolai Simi-
renko, which was the true name of the man who was
betrothed to Suzanne. Old Maximoff had told him
much of the past of this nephew, and had told him
also that Simirenko came of a family in which the
trait of insanity was hereditary.
When he reached this part of the story Plöhn gave
a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God! thank God!”
he exclaimed, “ then at least he is not responsible for
his terrible deeds."
Muller nodded. “You are right,” he continued.
“Nikolai Simirenko is an unfortunate man, his mind
is held in bondage by a terrible delusion. Listen
now. He knew of the hereditary taint in his blood
and even as a youth, although he was strong and well,
he suffered tortures in the thought that he might fall
a victim to the curse, to the curse that had weighed
so long upon his family. He took up the study of
medicine, hoping that through his knowledge in this
field he would be able to save himself from the
threatened disaster. It was natural under the cir-
cumstances that the specialty to attract him should
be mental alienation. He was an excellent student,
too much so for his own good. About twelve years
ago he and his cousin, whose name he is now bearing,
took their degree at the University of Vienna, — then
they both returned home.
“Sergius Maximoff brought his own people the good
news that his cousin Nikolai had returned to his home
in the best of health and spirits. Then the real Maxi-
moff went on a tour of the world and settled down in


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 269
of his flight he stopped in at his own house, took his
little girl and the two disappeared from Russia.
How he ever managed to pass the frontier with the
child will perhaps never be explained. And there is
something else equally important which is equally
likely to remain a mystery. He had no immediate
relatives, and when he was put in the asylum the state
took charge of his fortune. To the surprise of every-
one there was no money there, his entire fortune
seemed to have disappeared entirely.”
The narrator paused and took a sip from a glass
of water that stood on the table.
“Had that anything to do with Maximoff — I
mean with that man's insanity ? ” asked Plöhn.
Muller shrugged his shoulders. “What I think,”
he replied, “is that Maximoff — I cannot get away
from the name either — utilized his various journey-
ings to invest his fortune quietly in some other coun-
try. Russia is very uncertain financially as well as
politically, and his actions in this respect would seem
to show a sane and normal mind.”
“Was he — insane when he killed his wife?"
asked Plöhn again.
Again the detective shrugged his shoulders and he
answered this question with another: “ Is it a sign
of insanity when a physician decides to end the suf-
fering of a patient whom he knows to be in acute
pain and incurable ? ”
Again there was silence in the room until Muller
took up his story: “ Since his flight from the
asylum all knowledge of Nikolai Simirenko was lost
in Russia. But the physicians of the institution have
not lost interest in their unfortunate colleague. I did
not tell them the reason for my inquiries for I wanted
unbiased information. I called myself a former
Viennese acquaintance of his, who came into that
neighborhood by chance, had heard of Simirenko's


270 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
sad case and now wished to know more about it.
One of the physicians, a kindly, elderly gentleman,
told me that Dr. Simirenko's insanity was of an un-
usual sort. It concerned one corner of his brain
alone as it were, and as such it might be considered
as having started fresh with him, although he said
it was not possible to doubt the existence of an
inherited inclination to mental abnormality. But it
was fear of the dread fate, his ardent wish to escape
it, his hot desire to shield himself through knowledge,
the mental overwork and constant occupation with
one train of thought — these were the stages of the
journey made by Simirenko until he reached the
dread goal of broken nerves and outspoken insanity.
Psychiatry, and its allied branches of study had made
Simirenko a madman. And the worst misfortune
that befell him was that while in Vienna he had had
as a classmate a Hindoo student with whom he had
become warm friends. This man taught him to be-
lieve in the doctrine of the transmigration of souls.”
“Oh, yes — yes. He used to speak of it some-
times,” threw in Plöhn. “Has that anything to do
with his madness?”
“A great deal. It is the most important factor
connected with the crimes he has committed here."
“ Please tell me what you mean.”
“As a natural connection with his studies of
psychology, Nikolai Simirenko came to take a great
interest in the soul of the criminal. I don't know
whether you have noticed that there were so many
books on Criminal Psychology in his library. He
himself told me, on one of my visits to Rose Cottage,
that what interested him most along the wide field of
medical science, was what the unthinking mass
called 'The Sinister Perversities of the Human Soul.'
Even then his expression, ‘As the unthinking mass


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 271
call it,' struck me, for it was evident that he did not
consider himself one of the mass. The old Russian
doctor in the asylum told me that while he was there
Simirenko openly avowed his admiration for several
of the famous criminals of history, those types of
men who had learned to kill for the pure joy of
killing."
“Oh, this is terrible!”
“ Ezzelino di Romano, Nero, and men of that
stamp seemed to be the ideal of this gifted young
man, who in his normal moments represented the
best type of warm-hearted and highly intelligent
modern scholar. He also took the greatest possible
interest in that half mythical character, the Court
Jeweller Cardillac, who is said to have lived in the
time of Louis XIV and to have perpetrated a long
series of mysterious crimes. What seemed to par-
ticularly interest him in Cardillac was his love for
strange and odd pieces of jewelry. He seemed to
believe that the souls of these great criminals of his-
tory entered by turn into his own in his sick moments,
and ordered all his doings, for which he was not other-
wise responsible.
“One of the patients in the institution wore an
odd and beautiful ring to which Simirenko seemed
greatly attracted. The man was found dead in bed
one morning and his ring missing. At first the cause
of death was not apparent, but at the autopsy it was
discovered that a tiny nail was driven deep into the
victim's skull. After Simirenko's flight from the
asylum the missing ring, also a miniature portrait of
the head doctor's son, were discovered in the mattress
of his bed.”
“Oh, this is terrible — terrible,” cried Plöhn shud-
dering.
“ Yes, it is indeed, terrible,” repeated Muller, “and


272 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
he jewey had members had to that he
I think it was high time that the man was discovered
and rendered harmless — high time for Miss Suzanne
and for his own little girl, Sonya.”
Plöhn looked up with a horror in his eyes that
seemed to rob him of words. The detective con-
tinued: “ Those earrings which Simirenko gave Miss
Suzanne — you remember he said that he had brought
them from Russia — they had formerly belonged to
Erlach. You remember my excitement at the
moment? I had found a description and a drawing
of the jewels among the dead man's papers, and the
earrings themselves were not in his cabinet, nor was
there any clue to their whereabouts. With his mania
for murder Simirenko combined a tendency here and
there to make away with property of others. But it
was never for any other reason than to obtain some
cherished art treasure — or in some cases to make up
for the niggardliness of his victim."
“I don't understand — what do you mean?”
“On my secret visits to the Green House," ex-
plained Muller, “I found reason to think that about
twenty thousand crowns were missing from Erlach's
capital. I learned accidentally that immediately after
Erlach's disappearance Maximoff had given forty
thousand crowns to endow two free beds in a
Viennese hospital. Yesterday I made an official in-
vestigation of this matter and discovered that one of
the beds was registered under ‘Endowed by L. E.,'
and the other ‘N. S.' Old Erlach, as you know, was
very close with his money and anything but generous.
His murderer set the old miser a monument which the
other scarcely deserved. And at the same time he
gave a neat little sum out of his own property. But
I must say that I did not like his giving his future
wife the earrings which had belonged to his latest
victim."
“ Yes, yes I understand — I feel the same way my-


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 273
self. But are you sure — absolutely sure that
those were Erlach's earrings?”
“Yes, there is no doubt possible. They were a
very odd design and besides the description and draw-
ing which I told you I found in some old family
papers — you can see another picture of them your-
self in the family portrait hanging in the drawing
room of the Erlach house.”
“ Have they — have they found Erlach's body?”
“ Yes, Simirenko had buried it in his garden."
“ Then they have arrested him already ? ” Plöhn
sighed deeply as he spoke, and Muller's voice was sad
as he answered the question.
“They took him away about two hours ago. Just
before I came here the Commissioner, who remained
in Rose Cottage some little while after the arrest, told
me he had made interesting discoveries in the little
room which the doctor called his photographing dark
room. It was used for this purpose, but for other
purposes as well. In a cupboard in this room the
Commissioner found a long dark cloak with a high
stiff-lined hood in which holes were cut for the ears;
also several pairs of gloves of remarkably fine and
flexible kid, and boots with very high heels and
heavy soles which were fastened into felt slippers.
Also there was a little strong box in the cupboard
which contained a paper missing among Erlach's se-
curities. And something more was found there. A
big coil of horsehair lariat, bits of which we have al-
ready seen.”
“Oh, yes — yes, the black cord — why did he use
that in his crimes ?”
“Who can tell the vagaries a sick soul may have?
He had bought a lariat once as a curiosity for his col-
lection of foreign weapons. The strength and flexi-
bility of the narrow cord seemed to appeal to him
and it was with this that he strangled his wife. It


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 275
self obliged to believe him one of the greatest crim-
inals of modern times. Then one day I happened by
accident to see the title of a well-known book on
Criminal Psychology and I remembered its contents,
which were well-known to me. There have been
other cases similar to his — but they are to be found
at rare intervals. I myself didn't realize how terrible
they could be until I had it brought home to me.”
“ You're going already?” asked Plöhn hastily as
Muller rose from his chair.
“There are some more details which might interest
you," said the detective,“ but we can postpone the tell-
ing of them for another time. I am very tired now
and I must make up my official report."
Plöhn realized that his guest looked tired and he
touched the bell on his desk. “Let me order you
something to eat,” he said, going to the door as the
attendant came. They sat in silence until the tray
was brought and as Muller ate the cold meat and
drank the wine, it seemed to restore and rest him.
Plöhn waited on him anxiously, with a request in his
eyes which he dared not yet make.
Muller looked up suddenly from the tray and re-
marked: “One thing I must tell you in justice to my
valet Karl — who is not my valet, but a professional
assistant. I did not dismiss him from my service as
I had to tell you that I did. I wanted to get him out
of the way so that I could send him on the Russian
journey with Simirenko.”
“You feel better now — more rested ? ” asked
Plöhn, handing his guest the box of cigars.
“ Yes, thank you, I think it was partly hunger.
Although I am tired. But I generally find that I can
keep up when there is something to do.”
“If your profession brings you many such expe-
riences as you have gone through to-day, it must be
hard on mind and body.”


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 279
I'm no weakling you know — of course the thought
is unpleasant, but now that the man has been found
we are quite safe — why, you foolish boy.”
“No one suspected the truth,” said Muller in the
moment's pause that ensued, “because this mad-
man, in his lucid intervals, was one of the most re-
markably intelligent and attractive men I have ever
met.”
Suzanne had been looking at the detective even as
she spoke to her brother. Now she turned her head
to look at the man whose arms still encircled her
protectingly. A low, inarticulate note of fear broke
involuntarily from her lips as she saw her brother's
face. “Richard! who is it — who is it he is talking
about — what is it that you know — why do you look
so horrified — why do you hold me so? Who is this
man he is talking about — tell me - do tell me."
Plöhn only held her closely and looked helplessly at
Muller.
“ You will have need of all your courage, Miss
Suzanne,” said the detective, “to bear this shock
which is to come to you. It has almost crushed your
brother. He has not yet recovered. This — mad-
man was dear to us all — and to you — very dear to
you —”
"To me?” her voice rose to a higher note. “To
me? ” she repeated. “Oh —" Here she looked at
them both again, a quick, comprehending glance.
“Oh, my God!— not — not —”
“Yes," said Plöhn, very low. “ It is he.”
“ Sergius?" Suzanne scarcely breathed the name
as she swayed in her brother's protecting arms. “Oh,
no, no, no. Oh, it is ridiculous — I don't believe you
— you are both gone crazy. — it is you who are mad-
men.”
Her brother only held her tighter as Muller spoke
very gravely. “No, it is no mistake, unfortunately,


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 281
great pain and her malady was incurable,” said Mul-
ler quickly, feeling the horror in the girl's soul. “He
knew it was only a question of time — he was a
physician — and he ended it. This crime at least,
terrible as it is in our eyes, has much to excuse it."
“Because he loved her so greatly," came in smoth-
ered tones from Suzanne.
“Yes, because he loved her so greatly,” repeated
Muller.
“ Then his love at least was not madness ? ” the
girl continued mechanically, tonelessly.
“No, that was genuine, as were all his good qual-
ities.”
Suzanne wheeled round suddenly. “Where is he
now?” There was a sudden unnatural calm about
her.
“ They have taken him — to the city.”
“ To prison?”
“No — to the asylum."
“I must go to him— my place is at his side — he
loved me — if my love is of any value it must show
itself now. Take me to him.”
“No— no, dear, you must not think of it,” mur-
mured Plöhn. “Your presence would be of no good
to him just now - it might only serve to excite him
dangerously –” Again she broke from her brother's
restraining grasp.
“But I must, it is my duty."
“ There is another duty which calls for you,” said
Muller. “That poor little girl — now doubly or-
phaned, so terribly orphaned —”.
“ Sonya! Poor little Sonya! — then she too —
she too —"
“ Yes, she too was in danger.” Muller completed
the sentence which the girl did not dare think out.
“Oh — it is horrible — let me think — I must have


282 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
time to think —" Suzanne stood between them,
looking at them in another moment of deadly calm.
Then suddenly, even before her brother could catch
her, she fell to the floor unconscious.


CHAPTER XVIII
EPILOGUE
On Christmas day a thick covering of snow lay over
the wide stretches of country around Inzersdorf and
gave the charm of beauty even to the desolate Black
Moor. The Erlach garden was a picture with its
snowy spaces of lawn, and the trees and bushes
sparkling in a covering of many-facetted crystals. In
the midst of the white radiance the handsome old
house stood dark in its ivy covering. But there was
no longer the gloom of emptiness in its darkness, and
the quiet old structure seemed to smile with the gayety.
within.
For about two weeks now the Green House had
been again a home. Miss Eva Geiringer and her sis-
ter lived there, and Mrs. Tonner, with a young serv-
ing maid as assistant, took care of them. That the
two sisters had found such a beautiful home was due
to Muller. But like many another of his good deeds
he did not consider it anything of importance. It
seemed quite natural to him that he should speak of
the two forsaken women to Paul Erlach, and the
lieutenant thought it equally natural that the woman
who might have been his uncle's wife, should in her
old days at least be an inmate of the home which might
have been hers altogether. It was no charity in his
eyes, particularly as Eva's sister had undertaken the
preparation of Nellie von Feldern's trousseau. The
two ladies were to live in the Green House for the
rest of their lives, thus keeping it open for the young
officer and his wife whenever they could make them-
283


284 THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD
selves free for a visit to the country. This Christmas
day, every room in the old house was thrown open
and a merry company roamed in and out through all
its nooks and corners. Colonel von Feldern, Nellie's
father, with his wife and younger daughter, had come
out for the day with the young couple. Commis-
sioner Lehr, Muller and Karl were also invited. The
warm-hearted young officer could not forget those
to whom his gratitude was due on this, his first day
of hospitality in his heritage. While all was in busy
bustling preparation for a hearty Christmas dinner,
Muller sat in a corner room, chatting quietly with
Miss Eva. His warm heart rejoiced at the look of
calm happiness on the pale face of the gentle little
invalid.
“He's been here several times then?” he asked.
" Three times already," she answered eagerly.
“He brought your letter the first time, the letter
in which you asked him to come and see us occa-
sionally. And we found him a pleasant visitor."
“Then you haven't taken a dislike to him?" asked
Muller. “I don't want to make it too much of a
sacrifice for you. But your kindness will do the poor
man so much good.”
The invalid smiled sadly as she replied: "For me?
How can a poor worthless cripple like myself feel
any superiority over a man who has all his faculties,
and a man who does his duty in life so thoroughly well
as Mr. Bauer does. No, indeed, we will always be
glad to see him and to do what we can towards ban-
ishing his distrust of the world. Besides, he's braver
than you think, he did not write his apology to Lieu-
tenant Erlach, but he came in person. But now, Mr.
Muller, do tell me about Simirenko and his unfortu-
nate betrothed.”
Muller sighed deeply. “Miss Suzanne is out of
danger now. But I fear she will not shake off the


THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 285
ristma
r. cpe
ugh a
Vellie
d com
ommis
l. The
the
rst da
deep sorrow in her heart as quickly as she did the
brain fever. Simirenko is safely guarded in the asy-
lum. He has violent moments every now and then
when it takes great force to subdue him. But in his
lucid intervals he is very quiet. I went to the asylum
to ask about him yesterday, and they tell me that he
has spoken of me frequently, spoken of me kindly.
Oh, and another thing they told me. When he was
brought to the asylum he had to undergo a physical
examination and it was discovered that he had three
broken ribs. He acknowledged calmly that they were
broken by Gebhart's blow the night of his attack on
the latter, you remember the story.”
“Yes, yes, you told me. What a terrible man he
is — and yet I am sorry for him.”
“Yes, as I am,” said the detective sadly. “To
think that just this soul should be darkened by mad-
in busy
dinner.
with
look oi
e little
agerly
- letter
ness!”
S OCCA
.
asked
7 of a
Several years had passed and summer was on the
land again.
A man sat at the window of a great house outside
Vienna. There were strong bars at the window and
the door was securely locked. The man was tall but
gaunt, his clothes hung loosely from his broad shoul-
ders. His beautiful supple hands had lost their look
of strength and were almost transparent and waxen.
His hair was quite white.
After the ravings of the first few terrible weeks,
Nikolai Simirenko had been one of the most quiet
patients of the asylum. Although kept in the stron-
gest cell under safe watch he had never attempted
an escape. The absolute stillness that seemed to
have come over the man made him the most unusual
case which the physicians of the institution had ever
known. He seemed quite lucid, was again the finely
educated, intelligent man of the world, the sympa-
Es baru
braver
a Lieve
.M
Thort


CORD
THE MAN WITH THE BLACK CORD 287
Ehis lite
ment, he
et satel
heart. He did not wish even this one friend to know
the hours that he spent in hopeless torturing longing.
Then he went back to the window and stood watch-
ing.
Finally he heard the wheels of a carriage on the
road and the sound of the doorbell. The pale man's
eyes brightened and a faint smile curved his well-cut
- Sonya
er own
TS after
lips.
Elt into
spent
ed, but
, were
der.
- isitor
Simi
Atient
I a
Je to
THE END





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