_A Midnight Visit to the Barn._--_The Detective wields a Shovel to
some Advantage._--_Fifty Thousand Dollars found in the Earth._--_A
good Night's Work._
The day following the revelations made in the preceding chapter,
Edward Sommers returned to the agency and communicated the
information which he had received the day before, and awaited
instructions before proceeding further in the matter.
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.
[Illustration: "_With a joyful cry he exultingly held up a large
wallet before his excited companions._"]
An audible sigh of relief escaped them all as they looked. Robert
took out his pocket-handkerchief, and the coins, dirt and all, were
deposited within it. Surely success was certain now--and soon, by
carefully digging away the surrounding earth, the detective was
enabled to place his hands beneath the stone. Then, with a joyful
cry, he withdrew a large wallet, and held it up exultingly before his
excited companions.
Ah, yes, victory was assured now, and, after carefully searching
around the stone to discover if anything else had been hidden there,
the wallet was placed in the handkerchief along with the coins, and
they prepared to leave the place.
The earth was replaced, the bark and tin were piled upon the top of
it, and after they had finished, nothing in the appearance of things
would indicate that midnight workers had been there, or that the
murdered man's treasure had been discovered and removed.
The overwrought nerves of the worker and watchers were strengthened
by a long draught of prime "Eau de vie," which had been brought along
by the considerate Paul, and after making sure that everything was as
they had found it, they left the barn and proceeded toward the
railroad.
It was necessary now to get rid of the lantern and the spade. To
retain them would be hazardous--they might be stopped upon the road,
and the possession of a dark lantern and a wallet of money would be
strong evidences of something else than a detective operation, and
besides this, secrecy was all-important at the present time.
Passing a ravine some distance from the scene of their operations,
Robert threw the lantern away, and it dropped to the bottom with a
noise that was echoed upon the quiet air; further on, the spade was
disposed of, and then, disencumbered, the trio walked to Stamford,
about eight miles distant, where they boarded a train and returned to
New York, well pleased with the result of their night's work.
It was six o'clock when they arrived. They proceeded at once to the
Windsor Hotel, where the German Consul resided, and, awakening that
gentleman, Robert sent up his card, when they were admitted to his
parlor and the package was exhibited to his astonished gaze.
To count the contents of this enclosure was now the next duty to be
performed, and in the presence of all the parties the labor was at
once commenced. The gold pieces were found to amount to one hundred
marks--consisting of three twenty-mark and four ten-mark pieces--and
it was noticed that one of them had a hole drilled through it. The
wallet next received attention. It was discovered to be a pocket-book
enclosed in a canvas wrapper, securely sewed together and fastened
with sealing-wax.
The German Consul removed this outer covering and the black leather
book was disclosed to view, which gave evidence of containing no
small amount of money.
The contents were removed, and upon counting it, were found to amount
to two hundred and four thousand marks, in one-thousand-mark
bills--or nearly fifty thousand dollars. Verily a good night's work,
and one to be proud of.
The murdered man's money had been found, and the man who had stained
his hands with blood would never reap the benefit of his crime.
The notes, from their long continuance in the damp ground, were quite
moist and adhered closely together, and the German Consul was
therefore required to lift them carefully with his knife, and great
care was necessary in handling them. Each of these notes was found to
be numbered in the same manner as those recovered upon the first
visit, and a complete list was made by which they could afterwards be
identified.
Besides the money, the package contained some cards, and a foreign
passport in the name of John Henry Schulte, dated in April, 1878.
After counting the money, it was, together with the articles found,
wrapped in stout brown paper and duly labeled. All present then
affixed their signatures to the wrapper, after which the German
Consul wrote out a receipt for them, which was taken charge of by
Robert.
They then partook of some refreshments, after which they departed,
and feeling completely exhausted after their laborious experience of
the night before, Robert and Edward Sommers sought their couches, and
were soon wrapt in slumber.
The German Consul was elated at the success which had crowned our
efforts, and he no longer entertained a single doubt of the guilt of
the miserable man, in whose behalf he had originally interested
himself.
The information of our success was conveyed to Mr. Olmstead, the
State's attorney, who received it with evident surprise and
satisfaction. We had succeeded beyond his expectations, and the
correctness of his original theory had been fully demonstrated.
He experienced the proud consciousness of being able to successfully
prosecute a criminal who had violated the law, and to convict a
wretch who had taken a human life in order to possess himself of the
blood-stained fruits of his crime.
While all this was transpiring the guilty man passing the weary hours
indulging in alternate hopes of escape, and oppressed with harrowing
fears of punishment.