Bucholz and the Detectives | Page 6

no difficulty in extending his circle of
acquaintances, particularly among those of a curious turn of mind. In
response to their eager questioning, he would relate such wonderful
stories in reference to his master, of the large amount of money which
he daily carried about his person, and of reputed wealth in Germany,
that it was believed by some that a modern Croesus had settled in their
midst, and while, in common with the rest of humanity, they paid
homage to his gold, they could not repress a feeling of contempt for the
miserly actions and parsimonious dealings of its possessor.
With the young ladies also William seemed to be a favorite, and his
manner of expressing himself in such English words as he had acquired,
afforded them much interest and no little amusement. Above all the rest,
however, the two daughters of Mrs. Waring possessed the greatest
attractions for him, and the major part of his time, when not engaged in
attending upon his employer, was spent in their company. Of the eldest
daughter he appeared to be a devoted admirer, and this fact was far
from being disagreeable to the young lady herself, who smiled her
sweetest smiles upon the sturdy young German who sued for her
favors.
Sadie Waring was a wild, frolicsome young lady of about twenty years
of age, with an impulsive disposition, and an inclination for mischief
which was irrepressible. Several experiences were related of her, which,
while not being of a nature to deserve the censure of her associates,
frequently brought upon her the reproof of her parents, who looked

with disfavor upon the exuberance of a disposition that acknowledged
no control.
Bucholz and Sadie became warm friends, and during the pleasant days
of the early Autumn, they indulged in frequent and extended rambles;
he became her constant chaperone to the various traveling shows which
visited the town, and to the merry-makings in the vicinity. Through her
influence also, he engaged the services of a tutor, and commenced the
study of the English language, in which, with her assistance, he soon
began to make rapid progress.
In this quiet, uneventful way, the time passed on, and nothing occurred
to disturb the usual serenity of their existence. No attempt was made by
Henry Schulte to cultivate the land which he had purchased, and,
except a small patch of ground which was devoted to the raising of a
few late vegetables, the grass and weeds vied with each other for
supremacy in the broad acres which surrounded the house.
Daily during the pleasant weather the old gentleman would wend his
way to the river, and indulge in the luxury of a bath, which seemed to
be the only recreation that he permitted himself to take; and in the
evening, during which he invariably remained in the house, he would
spend the few hours before retiring in playing upon the violin, an
instrument of which he was very fond, and upon which he played with
no ordinary skill.
The Autumn passed away, and Winter, cold, bleak, and cheerless,
settled over the land. The bright and many-colored leaves that had
flashed their myriad beauties in the full glare of the sunlight, had fallen
from the trees, leaving their trunks, gnarled and bare, to the mercy of
the sweeping winds. The streams were frozen, and the merry-makers
skimmed lightly and gracefully over the glassy surface of pond and
lake. Christmas, that season of festivity, when the hearts of the children
are gladdened by the visit of that fabulous gift-maker, and when music
and joy rule the hour in the homes of the rich--but when also, pinched
faces and hungry eyes are seen in the houses of the poor--had come and
gone.

To the farm-house on the "Hill," there had come no change during this
festive season, and the day was passed in the ordinary dull and
uneventful manner. William Bucholz and Sadie Waring had perhaps
derived more enjoyment from the day than any of the others, and in the
afternoon had joined a party of skaters on the lake in the vicinity, but
beyond this, no incident occurred to recall very forcibly the joyous time
that was passing.
On the second day after Christmas, Henry Schulte informed William of
his intention to go to New York upon a matter of business, and after a
scanty breakfast, accompanied by his valet, he wended his way to the
station.
They had become accustomed to ignore the main road in their journeys
to the town, and taking a path that ran from the rear of the house, they
would walk over the fields, now hard and frozen, and passing through a
little strip of woods they would reach the track of the railroad, and
following this they would reach the station, thereby materially