Albert Graumann had a strong, self-reliant face and
bearing. His natural expression was somewhat hard and stern, but it
was the expression of a man of integrity and responsibility. Muller
had already made some inquiries as to the prisoner's reputation and
business standing in the community, and all that he had heard was
favourable. A certain hardness and lack of amiability in Graumann's
nature made it difficult for him to win the hearts of others, but
although he was not generally loved, he was universally respected.
Through the signs of nagging fear, sorrow, and ill-health, printed
clearly on the face before him, Muller's keen eyes looked down into
the soul of a man who might be overbearing, pitiless even, if
occasion demanded, but who would not murder--at least not for the
sake of gain. This last possibility Muller had dismissed from
his mind, even before he saw the prisoner. The man's reputation
was sufficient to make the thought ridiculous. But he had not made
up his mind whether it might not be a case of a murder after a
quarrel. Now he began to doubt even this when he looked into the
intelligent, harsh-featured face of the man in the cell. But Muller
had the gift of putting aside his own convictions, when he wanted
his mind clear to consider evidence before him.
Graumann had risen from his sitting position when he saw a stranger.
His heavy brows drew down over his, eyes, but he waited for the
other to speak.
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