CHAPTER V. BY A THREAD
It was on Monday, the 27th of September, that Leopold Winkler wasmurdered and robbed, and early on Tuesday, the 28th, his body was found.That day the evening papers printed the report of the murder and thedescription of the dead man, and on Wednesday, the 29th, Mrs. Klingmayerread the news and went to see Winkler's employer. By noon of that daythe body was identified and a description of the stolen purse and watchtelegraphed to police headquarters in various cities. A few hours later,these police stations had sent out notices by messenger to all pawnshopsand dealers in second-hand clothing, and now the machinery of thelaw sat waiting for some news of an attempt on the part of therobber-and-murderer to get rid of his plunder.
On this same Wednesday, about the twilight hour, David Goldstamm, dealerin second-hand clothing, stood before the door of his shop in a sidestreet of the old Hungarian city of Pressburg and watched his assistanttake down the clothes which were hanging outside and carry them into thestore. The old man's eyes glanced carelessly up and down the street andcaught sight of a man who turned the corner and came hurrying towardshim. This man was a very seedy-looking individual. An old faded overcoathung about his thin figure, and a torn and dusty hat fell over his lefteye. He seemed also to be much the worse for liquor and very wobblyon his feet. And yet he seemed anxious to hurry onward in spite of theunevenness of his walk.
Then he slowed up suddenly, glanced across the street to Goldstamm'sstore, and crossed over.
"Have you any boots for me?" he asked, sticking out his right foot thatthe dealer might see whether he had anything the requisite size.
"I think there's something there," answered the old man in his usualbusinesslike tone, leading the way into the store.
The stranger followed. Goldstamm lit the one light in the little placeand groped about in an untidy heap of shoes of all kinds and sizes untilhe found several pairs that he thought might fit. These he brought outand put them in front of his customer. But in spite of his bleary eyes,the man caught sight of some patches on the uppers of one pair, andpushed them away from him.
"Give me something better than that. I can pay for it. I don't have towear patched shoes," he grunted.
Goldstamm didn't like the looks of the man, but he felt that he hadbetter be careful and not make him angry. "Have patience, sir, I'll findyou something better," he said gently, tossing the heap about again, butnow keeping his face turned towards his customer.
"I want a coat also and a warm pair of trousers," said the stranger in arough voice. He bent down to loosen the shabby boot from his rightfoot, and as he did so something fell out of the pocket of his coat. Anunconscious motion of his own raised foot struck this small object andtossed it into the middle of the heap of shoes close by Goldstamm'shand. The old man reached out after it and caught it. It was just anordinary brown leather pocketbook, of medium size, old and shabby, likea thousand others. But the eyes of the little old man widened as if interror, his face turned pale and his hands trembled. For he had seen,hanging from one side of this worn brown leather pocketbook, the end ofa yellow thread, the loosened end of the thread with which one side ofthe purse was mended. The thread told David Goldstamm who it was thathad come into his shop.
He regained his control with a desperate effort of the will. It took himbut a few seconds to do so, and, thanks to his partial intoxication,the customer had not noticed the shopkeeper's start of alarm. But heappeared anxious and impatient to regain possession of his purse.
"Haven't you found it yet?" he exclaimed.
Goldstamm hastened to give it back. The tramp put the purse in hispocket with a sigh of relief. Goldstamm had regained his calm and hismind was working eagerly. He put several pairs of shoes before hiscustomer, with the remark: "You must try them on. We'll find somethingto suit you. And meanwhile I will bring in several pairs of trousersfrom those outside. I have some fine coats to show you too."
Goldstamm went out to the door, almost colliding there with hisassistant who was coming in with his arm full of garments. The old manmotioned to the boy, who retreated until they were both hidden from theview of the man within the store.
"Give me those blue trousers there," said Goldstamm in a loud voice.Then in a whisper he said to the boy: "Run to the police station. Theman with the watch and the purse is in there."
The boy understood and set off at once at a fast pace, while the old manreturned to his store with a heavy heart. He wondered whether he wouldbe able to keep the murderer there until the police could come. And healso wondered what it might cost him, an old and feeble man, who wouldbe as a weak reed in the hands of the strong tramp in there. But he knewit was his duty to do whatever he could to help in the arrest of one whohad just taken the life of a fellow creature. The realisation of thisgave the old man strength and calmness.
"A nice sort of an eye for size you have," cried the tramp as the oldman came up to him. "I suppose you've brought me in a boy's suit? Whatdo you take me for? Any girl could go to a ball in the shoes you broughtme to try on here."
"Are they so much too small?" asked the dealer in an innocent tone."Well, there's plenty more there. And perhaps you had better be tryingon this suit behind the curtain here while I'm hunting up the shoes."
This suggestion seemed to please the stranger, as he was evidently in ahurry. He passed in behind the curtain and began to undress. Goldstamm'skeen eyes watched him through a crack. There was not much to be seenexcept that the tramp seemed anxious to keep his overcoat within reachof his hand. He had carefully put the purse in one of its pockets.
"We'll get the things all together pretty soon," said the dealer. "I'vefound a pair of boots here, fine boots of good quality, and sure tofit."
"Stop your talk," growled the other, "and come here and help me so thatI can get away."
Goldstamm came forward, and though his heart was very heavy withinhim, he aided this man, this man about whom so many hundreds were nowthinking in terror, as calmly as he had aided his other poor but honestcustomers.
With hands that did not tremble, the dealer busied himself about hiscustomer, listening all the while to sounds in the street in the hopethat his tete-e-tete with the murderer would soon be over. But in spiteof all his natural anxiety, the old man's sharp eyes took cognizanceof various things, one of which was that the man whom he was helping todress in his new clothes did not have the watch which was described inthe police notice. This fact, however, did not make the old man's heartany lighter, for the purse mended with yellow thread was too clearly theone stolen from the murdered man found in the quiet street in Hietzing.
"What's the matter with you, you're so slow? I can get along bettermyself," growled the tramp, pushing the old man away from him. Goldstammhad really begun to tremble now in spite of his control, in the fearthat the man would get away from him before the police came.
The tramp was already dressed in the new suit, into a pocket of which heput the old purse.
"There, now the boots and then we're finished," said the dealer with anattempt at a smile. In his heart he prayed that the pair he now held inhis hand might not fit, that he might gain a few minutes more. But theshoes did fit. A little pushing and stamping and the man was ready toleave the store. He was evidently in a hurry, for he paid what was askedwithout any attempt to bargain. Had Goldstamm not known whom he hadbefore him now, he would have been very much astonished at this, andmight perhaps have been sorry that he had not named a higher sum. Butunder the circumstances he understood only too well the man's desire toget away, and would much rather have had some talk as to the payment,anything that would keep his customer a little longer in his store.
"There, now we're ready. I'll pack up your old things for you. Orperhaps we can make a deal for them. I pay the highest prices in thecity," said Goldstamm, with an apparent eagerness which he hoped woulddeceive the customer.
But the man had already turned towards the door, and called hack overhis shoulder: "You can keep the old things, I don't want them."
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nbsp; As he spoke he opened the door of the store and stood face to face witha policeman holding a revolver. He turned, with a curse, back into theroom, but the dealer was nowhere to be seen. David Goldstamm had donehis duty to the public, in spite of his fear. Now, seeing that thepolice had arrived, he could think of his duty to his family. This dutywas plainly to save his own life, and when the tramp turned again tolook for him, he had disappeared out of the back door.
"Not a move or I will shoot," cried the policeman, and now two othersappeared behind him, and came into the store. But the tramp made noattempt to escape. He stood pale and trembling while they put thehandcuffs on him, and let them take him away without any resistance.He was put on the evening express for Vienna, and taken to PoliceHeadquarters in that city. He made no protest nor any attempt to escape,but he refused to utter a word on the entire journey.