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"I guess they are asleep," remarked O'Reilly. The light glared. A moment's hush. There were astonished and wondering exclamations. The ropes which had held the prisoners tied, were strewn about, but the prisoners were nowhere. "What can it mean?" exclaimed Winckel, searching vainly for an explanation. Wild guesses were made by the three as to how the escape was made.
When he was fairly certain that he could move, he indulged in that luxury for at least five minutes. He had no trouble in leaving the building. Once outside, he hastened to a telephone booth. He had no intention of telephoning, but he did want to find out the address of Winckel. A plan was in his mind. He found two Winckels in the telephone.
Then he began making out the words and the sense of the conversation. "Yes," said one voice. "We found out that this man Jones, who was Winckel's butler, was one of their men. He dropped a card which young Winckel found. That was enough to warrant his being watched, although we did nothing for several days except to see that he got no further information.
A sickening thought at the same instant came to Schmidt. "O'Reilly, we talked about the prisoners, how we had trapped them, where they were and all the time someone was listening. That someone heard all we had to say and then, after we were all through, he went up to Winckel's house and rescued them." Winckel said nothing for many minutes; he seemed lost in thought.
How far he exaggerated their treatment of him it is difficult to decide. That the guardians, among whom one Peter Winckel, schoolmaster at Gouda, occupied the principal place, had little sympathy with the new classicism, about which their ward already felt enthusiastic, need not be doubted.
An immediate and careful search of the room was made, to see if anyone had been there since they left and also for any clue as to the probable leak. "Nothing seems wrong as far as I can see," O'Reilly started to say. "Hello, what is this?" He had discovered the cleverly concealed wires of the dictaphone. Winckel and Schmidt joined him on the instant.
Winckel sent the two young fellows, twenty-one and eighteen years old, to school again, this time at Bois-le-Duc. There they lived in the Fraterhouse itself, to which the school was attached. There was nothing here of the glory that had shone about Deventer.
It is important for us to find out if we have blundered, if our plans have been disclosed." Both Schmidt and O'Reilly insisted on accompanying Winckel and the three left the house in the next five minutes. They reached the building in about twenty minutes. No policeman was about to see them violate the speed laws on the way.
Charles Jones was an operative, employed as a butler by the Winckel household. He had so often given proof of profound stupidity in everything except his duties in the household that Herr Winckel would have laughed at any suspicion of his being anything else but a butler. Herr Winckel was so fond of saying and repeating that the man had a butler mind it could never grasp anything outside of that.
Winckel, a man with spectacles which carried thick lenses, "can you or one of your friends, perhaps, meet the boy and pose as this man Strong? Schmidt, you or Feldman had better go to Milwaukee and try to place the boy and get such information as you can. But do not let him suspect you." "I'll go," said Schmidt. "When is he due?" asked Mr. Winckel.
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