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Out again!" cried Miss Winkler, when Polly was restored to her. "I declare, I'll make Jed get rid of her and Wango! They're more bother than they're worth!" "I'll take 'em if you don't want 'em!" offered Charlie Star. "So will I!" said Bunny. Winkler had never yet given them away, it did not seem likely that he would do so now. So Bunny and Charlie had small hopes of owning either pet.
The man as well as the woman came from this house and went in the direction of the lower end of the garden. "A little while later a shot was heard, and the next morning Leopold Winkler was found with a bullet in his back. The crime was generally taken to be a murder for the sake of robbery. But you and I, and Mr. Herbert Thorne, know very well that it was not. "You know this since Wednesday noon.
Treadwell and Miss Winkler went into the parlor that was hardly ever opened. Something that Bunny saw in a chair in front of the kitchen stove made him call out: "Oh, Miss Winkler! there's a funny old man in your kitchen, and he's trying to open the cupboard door where you keep the cookies. Come and see the funny old man!"
The only thing that makes me doubt his identity is that the paper reports that three hundred gulden were found in his pocket. Winkler never seemed to have money, and I do not understand how he should have been in possession of such a sum." "The money was found in the dead man's pockets," said the commissioner. "And yet it may be Winkler, the man you know. Muller, will you order a cab, please?"
The good-looking young clerk entered the office bashfully and Muller slipped in behind him, seating himself inconspicuously by the door. At a sign from the commissioner the visitor began. "I am an employee of Braun & Co. I have the desk next to Leopold Winkler, during the year that he has been with us the year and a quarter to be exact " "Ah, then you know him rather well?" "Why, yes.
And don't you think that it's worse for a man to seem to repel people by his very personality, rather than by any particular bad thing that he does?" "Yes. I don't know how to explain it, but that's just how I feel about it. I had an instinctive feeling that there was something wrong about Winkler, the sort of a creepy, crawly feeling that a snake gives you." Meanwhile Pokomy and Mrs.
Herr Winkler, the secretary of that theatre, whom I have already mentioned, regularly reported progress; but as editor of the Abendzeitung, a paper then rather on the wane, he seized the opportunity presented by our negotiations in order to ask me to send him frequent and gratuitous contributions.
"It looks almost as if it must be Winkler, sir," he said, in a few moments. "We will soon find that out. I should like to go to the police station myself with this woman; she is Winkler's landlady but I think it will be better for you to accompany her. They will ask questions about the man which you will be better able to answer than I." Pokorny bowed and left the room. Mrs.
Indeed, honest she had been, in thought and deed, until that terrible temptation was spread before her. "Elsa! Elsa Winkler! Is it my wife you was and would lie lie for a bit of that rubbish!" "'Rubbish' is good," commented "Marty," under his breath, but nobody smiled. The woman cowered.
The whole assemblage waited for her next word amid a silence that could be felt, when, suddenly, there burst upon that silence a series of ear-splitting shrieks which effectually diverted attention from the perplexed ranch mistress. The shrieks were uttered by Elsa Winkler, who frantically rushed to the horse block, demanding: "Where? Where?" Mrs.
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