"My man Wielert did," spoke up Meinert.
A bleached German boy with a cowlick in the center of his head just above his forehead came up beside Hilda and was sworn.
"You found the body?"
"Yes," said Wielert. He was blinking stupidly and his throat was expanding and contracting with fright.
"Tell us all you saw and heard and did."
"I take him the brandy in. And he sit and talk to himself. And he ask for paper and ink. And then he write and look round like crazy. And he make luny talk I don't understand. And he speak what he write—"
Captain Hanlon was red and was looking at Wielert in blank amazement.
"What did he write?" asked the magistrate.
"A letter," answered Wielert. "He put it in a envelope with a stamp on it and he write on the back and make it all ready. And then I watch him, and he take out a knife and feel it and speak with it. And I go in and ask him for money."
"Your Honor, this witness told us nothing of that before," interrupted Hanlon. "I understood that the knife—"