have done. You are so quiet about it."

"What I have done is only what any one could do who has that
particular faculty. I do only what is in human power to do, and
the cleverest criminal can do no more. Besides which, we all know
that every criminal commits some stupidity, and leaves some trace
behind him. If it is really a crime which we have found the trace
of here, we will soon discover it." Muller's editorial "we" was a
matter of formality. He might with more truth have used the
singular pronoun.

"Very well, then, do what you can," said the commissioner with a
friendly smile.

The older man nodded, took the book and its wrappings from the
desk, and went into a small adjoining room.

The commissioner sent for an attendant and gave him the order to
fetch a pot of tea from a neighbouring saloon. When the tray
arrived, he placed several good cigars upon it, and sent it in to
Muller. Taking a cigar himself, the commissioner leaned back in
his sofa corner to think over this first interesting case of his
short professional experience. That it concerned a lady in distress
made it all the more romantic.

In his little room the detective, put in good humour by the
thoughtful attention of his chief, sat down to read the book
carefully. While he studied its contents his mind went back over
his search in the silent street outside.