Bucholz and the Detectives

by Allan Pinkerton

My son Robert A. Pinkerton determined to accompany him upon this visit to the barn, and he also requested the German Consul to delegate some one from his office to be one of the party. To this proposition the German Consul at once assented, and Paul Schmoeck, an attache of the Consulate, was selected to accompany them upon their visit to the Schulte estate.

Procuring a dark lantern and a garden spade, the party left New York about nine o'clock in the evening, and, without accident or delay, arrived at South Norwalk. On leaving the train, they separated, and Sommers, being acquainted with the road, walked on in advance. In order to avoid attracting attention, they walked up the main street of the town a short distance, and then, changing their course, they reached the railroad, along which they traveled until they arrived at the strip of woods in which Henry Schulte had met his death. They traveled along the narrow pathway and reached the stone wall, from which the house and barn stood in full view.

The evening was beautiful indeed—a bright moon illuminated the landscape almost with the luminous light of day. The air was still, and not a breath rustled among the leaves of the trees overhead. A silence profound and impressive reigned over all. From afar the rumbling of the train which they had left was borne upon the air. Involuntarily the three men who had come to this place upon a far different errand stood in silent admiration of the natural beauty that was spread before them.

Fearing that Henry Waring might have remained away from home later than was his wont, they waited until they felt reasonably sure of a freedom from interruption in their labor, and then, having finally concluded that all was safe, they proceeded quietly to the barn, whose doors were wide open, and offered no bar to their entrance.

Lighting their lantern, they thoroughly searched the interior, in order to discover if any tramps had taken refuge under its roof. All was quiet as the grave. The moonbeams shone through the open door, lighting up the barn with its rays, and almost revealing the figures of the men who were within. They were afraid to close the doors, which they had found open, lest some one looking from the windows of the farm-house should suspect its being occupied and be tempted to make an examination.

The spot designated by Bucholz was easily discovered, but, to the dismay of the visitors, they found that a large quantity of bark had been piled upon that particular corner of the barn, and that upon the top of this were thrown several sheets of tin, which had evidently been taken from the roof of some building.

There was no help for it, however; the bark and tin must be removed, and Edward Sommers, throwing off his coat and vest, went to work with a will. Robert held the lantern, while Paul Schmoeck stood by, with his hands in his pockets, eagerly awaiting developments.

The rattling of the tin, as it was being removed, was so loud that it was feared the sleepers in the farm-house would be awakened by the noise. They stopped and listened. Evidently their slumbers were profound, for not a sound came from its enclosing walls.

The bark was soon disposed of, and then Edward Sommers grasped the spade and struck it into the ground. The clock in the distant town struck midnight as he commenced the task. Eagerly he worked and eagerly watched the two men beside him. Their eyes seemed to pierce through the damp mold, and every spadeful of dirt, as it was thrown up, seemed to increase their anxiety. Steadily worked the detective, and the new earth lay piled around him, but as yet no indication of the treasure they sought. The perspiration rolled from the face of the anxious Sommers, and a doubt began to creep slowly into his mind. Robert, too, partook of the anxiety of his companion, while Paul Schmoeck, who scarcely understood the object of their visit, looked doubtfully upon the proceedings and indulged in frequent mutterings of disappointment.

Could it be possible that they had been deceived—that they were seeking for something which had no existence? Could Bucholz have imposed upon the credulity of Sommers and sent him upon this fool's errand? Or could the detective have made a mistake in the location designated? One or the other seemed to be the case. But hark! the spade strikes a hard substance; it must be the stone mentioned by Bucholz. With redoubled energy the detective wields his implement, and, at last, as he withdraws it from the ground, something glitters in the ray of the lantern. A closer examination disclosed several bright gold pieces, mingled with the dark lumps of dirt which had been lifted by the spade.