Bucholz and the Detectives | Page 7

lessening the distance that intervened, and shortening the time that
would be necessary to reach their destination.
Placing the old gentleman safely upon the train, and with instructions to
meet him upon his arrival home in the evening, Bucholz retraced his
steps and prepared to enjoy the leisure accorded to him by the absence
of the master.
In the afternoon his tutor came, and he spent an hour engaged in the
study of the English language, and in writing. Shortly after the
departure of the teacher Mrs. Waring requested him to accompany her
to a town a few miles distant, whither she was going to transact some
business, and he cheerfully consenting, they went off together.
Returning in the gathering twilight Bucholz was in excellent spirits and
in great good humor, and as they neared their dwelling they discovered
Sadie slightly in advance of them, with her skates under her arm,
returning from the lake, where she had been spending the afternoon in
skating. William, with a view of having a laugh at the expense of the
young lady, when within a short distance of her, drew a revolver which

he carried, and discharged it in the direction in which she was walking.
The girl uttered a frightened scream, but William's mocking laughter
reassured her, and after a mutual laugh at her sudden fright the three
proceeded merrily to the house.
It was now time for William to go to the station for his master, who
was to return that evening, and he started off to walk to the train,
reaching there in good time, and in advance of its arrival.
Soon the bright light of the locomotive was seen coming around a
curve in the road, the shrill whistle resounded through the wintry air,
and in a few minutes the train came rumbling up to the station, when
instantly all was bustle and confusion.
Train hands were running hither and thither, porters were loudly calling
the names of the hotels to which they were attached, the inevitable Jehu
was there with his nasal ejaculation of "Kerige!" while trunks were
unloaded and passengers were disembarking.
Bright eyes were among the eager crowd as the friendly salutations
were exchanged, and merry voices were heard in greeting to returning
friends. Rich and poor jostled each other in the hurry of the moment,
and the waiting servant soon discovered among the passengers the form
of the man he was waiting for.
The old gentleman was burdened with some purchases of provisions
which he had made, and in an old satchel which he carried the necks of
several bottles of wine were protruding. Assisting him to alight,
Bucholz took the satchel, and they waited until the train started from
the depot and left the trackway clear. The old man looked fatigued and
worn, and directed Bucholz to accompany him to a saloon opposite,
which they entered, and walking up to the bar, he requested a couple of
bottles of beer for himself and servant. This evidence of unwonted
generosity created considerable wonderment among those who were
seated around, but the old gentleman paid no attention to their
whispered comments, and, after liquidating his indebtedness, the two
took up their packages and proceeded up the track upon their journey
home.

What transpired upon that homeward journey was destined to remain
for a long time an inscrutable mystery, but after leaving that little inn
no man among the curious villagers ever looked upon that old man's
face in life again. The two forms faded away in the distance, and the
weary wind sighed through the leafless trees; the bright glare of the
lights of the station gleamed behind them, but the shadows of the
melancholy hills seemed to envelop them in their dark embrace--and to
one of them, at least, it was the embrace of death.
CHAPTER III.
An Alarm at the Farm-house.--The Dreadful Announcement of William
Bucholz.--The Finding of the Murdered Man.
The evening shadows gathered over Roton Hill, and darkness settled
over the scene. The wind rustled mournfully through the leafless
branches of the trees, as though with a soft, sad sigh, while overhead
the stars glittered coldly in their far-off setting of blue.
Within the farm-house the fire glowed brightly and cheerily; the lamps
were lighted; the cloth had been laid for the frugal evening meal, and
the kettle hummed musically upon the hob. The family of the Warings,
with the exception of the father, whose business was in a distant city,
were gathered together. Samuel Waring, the son, had returned from his
labor, and with the two girls were seated around the hearth awaiting the
return of the old gentleman and William, while Mrs. Waring busied
herself in the preparations for tea.
"Now, if Mr. Schulte would come," said Mrs. Waring, "we would ask