into a loud laugh. The same two words were scribbled again and
again over the white surface, but it was not the name of any fair
maiden, or even the title of a love poem; it was only the words,
"That dog - "

Several days had passed since the discovery of the murder. Fellner
had been buried and his possessions taken into custody by the
authorities until his heirs should appear. The dead man's papers
and affairs were in excellent condition and the arranging of the
inheritance had been quickly done. Until the heirs should take
possession, the apartment was sealed by the police. There was
nothing else to do in the matter, and the commission appointed to
make researches had discovered nothing of value. The murderer
might easily feel that he was absolutely safe by this time.

The day after the publication of the article we have quoted, Muller
appeared in Bauer's office and asked for a few days' leave.

"In the Fellner case?" asked the Chief with his usual calm, and
Muller replied in the affirmative.

Two days later he returned, bringing with him nothing but a single
little notice.

"Marie Dorn, now Mrs. Kniepp," was one line in his notebook, and
beside it some dates. The latter showed that Marie Dorn had for
two years past been the wife of the Archducal Forest-Councillor,
Leo Kniepp.

And for one year now Professor Paul Fellner had been in the town,