A wave of colour flooded the prisoner's cheek. He gasped, pressed
his hand to his heart, and dropped down on his cot. "Pardon me,"
he said finally, hesitating like a man who is fighting for breath.
"My heart is weak; any excitement upsets me. You mean that the
authorities are not convinced of my guilt, in spite of the evidence?
You mean that they will give me the benefit of the doubt--that they
will give me a chance for life?"

"Yes, that is the reason for my coming here. I am to take this
case in hand. If you will talk freely to me, Mr. Graumann, I may
be able to help you. I have seen too many mistakes of justice
because of circumstantial evidence to lay any too great stress
upon it. I have waited to hear your side of the story from
yourself. I did not want to hear it from others. Will you tell it
to me now? No, do not move, I will get the stool myself."

Graumaun sat back on the cot, his head resting against the wall.
His eyes had closed while Muller was speaking, but his quieter
breathing showed that he was mastering the physical attack which
had so shaken him at the first glimpse of hope. He opened his eyes
now and looked at Muller steadily for a moment. Then he said: "Yes,
I will tell you: my life and my work have taught me to gauge men.
I will tell you everything I know about this sad affair. I will
tell you the absolute truth, and I think you will believe me."

"I will believe you," said Muller simply.

"You know the details of the murder, of course, and why I was
arrested?"