Chapter Four - July, 1942 – Heroes Helping Heroes

The knock came at the door unexpectedly. However, it was not the harsh knock and loud footsteps of the Gestapo, but rather a soft, gentle rap to the tune of Beethoven's Ninth.

"You called for an electrician?" Sergeant James Kinchloe asked. An American POW at Stalag 13, complete with fake beard, he was somehow in Heidelberg in an electrician's outfit.

Gretchen didn't know this was a prisoner; she only knew he was with one of Ada's contacts - . She didn't know how much facial hair was real. There weren't many blacks in Germany, but there were a few. "Yes," she said, adding the coded, "One of the children flushed something down the toilet." When Kinch gave the required code back, she let him in.

"I understand you need something in the way of an electrical connection for a tunnel."

"Yes, come this way." She explained as she led him to the basement. "I don't know how much our contact, Esther, has told you, but we have three guests and a makeshift tunnel, and decided that it would be all right, finally to put a light in, if nobody can see it, for rare occasions." She also wondered if she could talk to him about something else, as the children were playing.

"I've got time. My boss doesn't need me till this evening." In reality, he was in solitary for attempted escape, a ploy used one other time by Hogan and two others when they'd needed to be gone a day. He would be let out later that evening. The radio man in Hogan's sabotage and rescue operation, Kinch was much better with operating the radio to London and other electrical things, but if need be, another sergeant, Richard Baker, could take his place. "Though I don't think he'd be too pleased; I hear you call him 'Yankee' down here."

Gretchen conceded that, "With the Americans in the war, I suppose that is a gamble."

"No, I mean he's from Connecticut. That's Red Sox country." She looked lost. "Sorry, two rival baseball teams. The Yankees are the Sox' biggest rivals."

"Well, it would not make sense to call him a sock. What about your team?"

"He'd really hate to be called that." Kitch's home town team, the Tigers, shared their name with a top agent they'd met recently - who happened to be female. "Say, is your husband Hans?" It was; did he know him? "Yeah, we've met." Kinch met the Rubins, then inspected the tunnel.

"Is something wrong?" Gretchen asked, hearing him sigh.

He pulled himself back out. "I don't want to be too critical. I know you're not professionals, and you did pretty well for what you had to work with. But, you're lucky the middle section of that tunnel hasn't totally collapsed yet." She looked very disappointed. "Hey, don't worry. We can fix it. We won't even charge extra for parts and labor."

"Danke. Hans has told me quite a bit about Yankee's, or Red Sock's…"

Kinch thought of the Athletics. "How about Athletic, or just A. They're a neutral team; they can't seem to beat anybody nowadays."

"Very well, Hans has told me much about Athletic's activities."

Kinch motioned her up to the kitchen. "How much do you know?" He wanted to get a feel for what Schultz had told her –showing if there was a leak - what was known down here, and so on.

Gretchen only suspected they operated out of a POW camp, because she had met Colonel Hogan, and Schultz had said something about him having a girlfriend. So, when Schultz mentioned that there were "strange goings on" at the camp, she wondered.

Kinch maintain firmly that, "I think you know it's gonna be best for all of us if you keep even guesses under your hat!" She told him not to worry – she always kept everything well hidden. Her children knew nothing even of that, only that Hans had some very wild prisoners at times. He relaxed and said, "Good. Of course, it's a crazy guess. I mean, it could never be done, right?"

She agreed, chuckling a little, and Kinch was more satisfied yet. However, she told him that she was still quite upset at Colonel Hogan for sending something through Schultz once, even if Hogan wasn't the agent whom Ada had contacted.

"Oh, yeah; he's really sorry about that." Hogan sent radio parts through Schultz to another r agent in Heidelberg, when he was coming home on furlough in June.

"Do not worry, Esther explained the situation, and Hans got home for a week anyway. I was probably upset just because, well, as you can see I have a mission myself."

"Yeah, well, Klink started to ride him pretty hard for a few days, but Colonel Hogan talked him into softening up again." Kinch knew that Schultz might tell her this anyway, and if he did, by referring to Hogan differently than to "Athletic," that would make her think more that the strange prisoner Colonel Hogan was different from the contact "Athletic." "I'm gonna radio for some supplies, and see if I can't get you some help with that tunnel. Local Underground's picking me up in a truck. Plus, my boss'll have to figure out a reason you're getting something installed. The gardening around your house and the neighbor's was a nice touch for the dirt, though."

"Danke. My cubs even discussed a trap door for in a bedroom closet; they think it would be safest to have another route to the basement." They discussed more things, including how they'd been hiding and plans for escapes. "About my oldest…he is having trouble trusting his father. Tell me…has Hans seen anything he could have reported for certain and didn't?"

Kinch nodded and grinned. "I can promise you that."

Albert entered with Heidi. "She had to use the bathroom." The youngest often insisted on staying witht heir brothers, even if they played soccer with older kids, since it was summer.

Gretchen asked Albert to fetch Oskar. Once Heidi left, and it was just the oldest two boys, Kinch, and Gretchen, she introduced him as an electrician, Wolfgang Hanover. Then, they went into the basement. "Herr Hanover has something he'd like to tell you."

Kinch told them about their dad. "He's ignored a lot; and hasn't told a soul. I'm sure he's safe."

"So, you are in the Underground?" He nodded. "What it is like?"

"I believe Albert means how often do you run drills?" Oskar teased.

"I just want us to always be prepared for anything."

"Mother says you sometimes become a drill sergeant," Oskar responded.

Gretchen tried to calm them, but Kinch said, "Don't worry about it; they just need to let off a little steam. My boss knows we need it, too."

"Father says he does that with the prisoners, too. Like the cockroach," Oskar joked.

Kinch stopped himself from stating that he knew LeBeau. However, he was curious. "I've heard of him; I did some electrical work at Stalag 13. I thought it was supposed to be an insult." In reality, Kinch could tell it wasn't meant that way, and was curious.

"It is not," Oskar said gleefully, anxious to tell the story. Despite Albert's protests, Oskar continued. "You see, Father knew the man before the war; he was a chef at a restaurant Father would go to when in Paris with his large company. Well, one night, we were there; I was six, my brother here was four, and Mother and Father left the younger one at home."

"Mother, does he have to tell this story?" Albert asked.

"I asked if there were any bugs in the kitchen; I really liked bugs then. I named a few, and got to cockroaches. Mother scolded me that it was not nice to mention cockroaches in a restaurant. I tried to get out of it by arguing that it did not mean there were bugs in the kitchen; perhaps the owner or chef was named that," Oskar explained. Albert looked ready to die of embarrassment as his brother finished. "So then this Frenchman comes out, and my brother asks, for the whole world to hear, 'Are you Mr. Cockroach?!' And, of course, knowing German Herr LeBeau laughed, and the nickname stuck. And, there were enough German speakers in there that night that all the French ones were being told the joke very quickly."

Albert knew how gross bugs in a restaurant would be; especially because he'd seen some gross things in food once with the war. "I cannot imagine how anyone could do something more embarrassing! I will always be the one of us with the most embarrassing story!"

"I've seen your type on both sides back home. You try to be Mr. Tough Guy to deal with things, huh?" Albert said nothing.

Gretchen signaled for Oskar to go upstairs. He did. "I had to scold this one quite sharply once recently. Didn't I?" she said lovingly, yet with a hint of a reminder of how stern she'd been.

Kinch put a hand on his shoulder. "I know how it is to wonder what's gonna happen. Sure, we fine tune everything, but if we do too much then we get all worn out and can't be at peak readiness when the real trouble comes. My boss knows how to get us to listen, and how to make sure everything goes like clockwork, but he knows how to let us have fun, too. He knows what we can handle. And, he accepts when someone's slower, like your siblings compared to you." Or, he told himself, like Carter compared to the others at times. Hogan could get upset with the very boyish sergeant, but still used him without ever staying really upset on him.

"He is right. Remember how the youngest two have made it a game to watch the window?" Gretchen said, "They look for different colors, birds, anything they can. And, we have made it fun for them, and reward each time one does it, so if they do have to watch the window they will be alert and react very quickly, right?"

Albert supposed so. Kinch decided to make him a deal. "Tell you what. Obey your mother when it comes to this stuff, and I won't tell the others the Cockroach story."

"It is a deal."

Kinch turned to go upstairs, when Albert told him to wait. He'd never thought to ask Frederick or Ada – he was always trying to work out details in his mind. It helped him to avoid the bigger worries. However, he guessed that this man had been through some rough things, too.

"Sir?" Kinch turned toward him. "Do you ever get scared?"

"Yeah, lots of times. I've felt scared, angry, hurt, frustrated sometimes. It's okay to feel that way." He spoke not only of the war, but of growing up in a segregated nation. And, relatives down South had it worse. He didn't like being cooped up in the radio room so much since he didn't look like a German soldier, and he didn't think he'd go on many missions, though he would on a few. So, he was glad to be able to pass on a little advice for one, at least. "I have faith it's gonna work out. My faith gets me through tough times. Yeah, I struggled growing up at times. But, my family really helped me. And, you've got a mother who cares a lot about you. You gotta tell her when you're feeling that way, so she can help, okay?"

Albert grinned broadly, glad to know even an adult could get scared. He realized he didn't have to have quite as hard a shell. He thrust out his hand and said, "Okay!"

Kinch couldn't help but blink back a tear as he took Albert's hand – when had a white person ever done that to him back in the States? It hadn't been often. Yet, here was a child, in the heart of Germany, not only shaking his hand, but offering it first. To explain his look, he simply said, "Kid's got quite a grip."

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Once Kinch returned and was let out of the cooler, he gave a status report down in the tunnel. "Now I know why the contact asked specifically for us. You'll never guess who's hiding someone?" Who? "Well, she's related to someone we know."

"Oh, boy, 20 questions. I'm good at this game," Andrew Carter said. The boyish sergeant asked, "Is she German?"

"Andrew, she's in Heidelberg, of course she's German!" Englishman Peter Newkirk proclaimed.

"Well, we're not, and we're in Germany," Carter retorted. Newkirk rolled his eyes.

"Let me see," Hogan said, his face showing only a little emotion as a thought cane to him. "Will I feel like kicking myself for not figuring it out before you left?"

"I know that look," Carter said, pointing at Hogan's face. "He knows it now."

LeBeau nodded excitedly. "Oui, I knew he could figure it out. Tell us."

"Is it Mrs. Schultz?" Kinch nodded. "Does he know?" Kinch explained to Hogan how she seemed to want to tell him, but the kids were scared. "Typical. Even with a family that's willing to do something to help, those birdbrains try to drive them apart with their scare tactics."

"Who's she hiding?"

Kinch told Carter he couldn't tell. "They swore me to secrecy. Just three children is all I'm allowed to tell you." He told them the operation, and their needs.

Hogan was pleased at how they did. "Good; they're keeping it low, not letting much get out."

"And, making sure nothing bad happens." Hogan could see Kinch trying to figure out whether to repeat this or not, so he asked him to continue. "Well, to put it simply, Sir, she was upset that she could have been caught with the parts we sent with Schultz, because of her mission."

"How upset?"

"Well, Colonel…" He shuffled his feet. "She said if you ever threaten her mission again, she'll come up here and teach you a lesson you'll never forget."

"You better listen," Carter said. "I don't think the Geneva Convention covers civilians spanking enemy prisoners." Newkirk shook his head and pulled Carter's cap down over his eyes.

Hogan made a mental note to keep Gretchen outside of their missions. "I'm not sure about a light with a timer like someone suggested; it's actually like some older ladies to not have any lights on. But, we'll send someone down there when we can get to it. And, tell them they can start on the trap door they want in the closet before then; it should be fairly simple.

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.September, 1942

. Peter Newkirk and several other men had completed the required construction. He'd been gone several days. Ostensibly, he was in the infirmary with an illness that was common to some prison camps and which they used for Kinch when he would be loaned to other Underground units in the Hammelburg area to help with radio or other electrical work. In reality, Newkirk was in Heidelberg. Now that school was back in session, it was deemed easier for him and the other Underground agents to work on the tunnel, though it took a little while longer, till Saturday.

"There you are, Ma'am," Newkirk said in German. "Happy Hammelburg Construction's bill of completion of the government-mandated super-effective, heavy duty sewer line." He handed her two pieces of paper. "Along with the one for the government-mandated removal of the super-effective, heavy duty sewer line because Berlin only found out later that it was not super, not effective, and not heavy-duty."

"Danke," Gretchen said as the Schultz children milled about the living room.

Newkirk grinned broadly. He couldn't believe that just eight months ago, he'd thought he'd have to sit out the war in a miserable prison. And now, here he was carrying out high-level, dangerous assignments, and having fun doing it. He still thought Colonel Hogan was a little carzy with some of his schemes, but they worked. And, he could see the same attitude, when he and the others were working there the last few days, in the Schultz's children.

Suddenly, he heard Schultz's car pull up. He jerked his head around for a moment and frowned. "Oh, that's bloody charming. It's the 12th, and Carter said he checked and Schultz was going to try to get a 24-hour pass for the 21st," he muttered under his breath. He wanted to do some double checking, but instead, he found himself ducking into Mrs. Mueller's for the time being. Her house was unoccupied, so why not?

Schultz was puzzled, but his demeanor changed quickly as the birthday girl ran up to him. "Happy birthday, liebchen," he said, picking her up and twirling her around. "I cannot believe you are five years old!"

"Why? I was four yesterday?"

"You jolly joker. Your older brothers do not mind, but I knew it was important for me to show up once during the war on your birthday, as I did for Heinrich's."

Heidi frowned at the thought. "I do not like war. It is scary, and there are bullies."

"You mean the Gestapo?" She nodded. "Ja, they are bully boys, all right. But, you know we never, ever tell anyone that, right, liebchen?" She nodded and smiled, and he kissed her on the cheek. "Good girl." Heidi knew he would be even prouder if he knew she had not said another reason she hated war – there were people living in their basement, and she felt sad for them and couldn't tell anyone they were there.

As the family talked for a while, Oskar and Heinrich took the food they'd prepared in bags, and decided now was a good time to go to Mrs. Mueller's. With the tunnel complete, and fortified, they would exit out the back door of Mrs. Mueller's, and go through it, or – usually – go through their own back door. They used the reserve plan since Schultz was there.

Newkirk found himself wondering what special mission had occurred back at Stalag 13 while he was away for several days acquiring lumber – said by the paperwork to be for a "special top secret project" – and working here. He'd used a German military uniform for that, and would use it again when he got back to the car he'd hidden by the side of a road a few miles away.

For now, he observed the two Schultz children coming after having received a "clear" signal from Carl. The tall, handsome eldest son handed Heinrich a small package.

The two walked in the door. The six-year-old felt little trepidation, as he focused on the Lord. His favorite Biblical character was David, the young giant-slayer. Even if it was just little things, he was anxious to let the Lord use him to slay some giants. In a faked old, crackling voice, Heinrich uttered "so nice of you to visit like this, Oskar." Oskar was glad Heinrich no longer giggled during his impersonations.

"What are friends for," came the tall one. He deliberately held an empty food container outside the package, in case any neighbors noticed. How long will we be able to keep them thinking she's alive, Oskar wondered. "I hope you enjoyed the food," came the comment.

"Yes, I do not like the other neighbors, you are the only ones I will let in." They'd had him say something like this at other times when it appeared someone was within hearing range. "You cook better than my mother," Heinrich responded in the cackling voice.

Newkirk grinned proudly from his hiding place. Listening to these boys did his heart proud.

He coughed, and resumed his real voice as he asked "how did you..." before Oskar clapped his mouth shut. "Mmmpf." He then realized he was going to ask how they learned to cook so well in his own voice, not Mrs. Mueller's.

Oskar glared, continuing loudly, as they weren't sure who would be watching. "Let us go, we do not want to keep Mrs. Mueller too long." As Heinrich hammed it up, entering the door again and asking why older people took naps, his companion pulled him outside. "We do not need a monologue," came the gentle chiding.

"Sorry," whispered the younger one back, "I got carried away." They walked back to their residence, and entered through the front. Schultz opened the door for them. Newkirk, meanwhile, pondered that there was probably a little of each of Hogan's men in all of the Schultz children. It would take that kind of strength to pull this off, just like the much more mature Colonel Hogan was using all his strength to pull off their assignments. Newkirk decided to wait a little while, till after lunch, to sneak in and check their work. By then, he figured Schultz would be sleeping.

"I was hoping to visit the widow Mueller with you...how did you get past me?" Schultz inquired. Why am I asking, he wondered, some prisoners do the same thing all the time?

"I do not know; let us eat," Oskar remarked, racing and beating Heinrich to the table.

"That boy eats like a pig," the guard remarked as he glanced at Oskar, seated on his left. He knew Gretchen purchased immense amounts of food, but this, he considered, was ridiculous. Not two minutes after he'd sat down, an entire course had been disposed of by Oskar. The others didn't seem far behind as the lad went for seconds, returning to scarf food down. Hans' eyes bulged as he stared at the place where the plate had been, thus allowing his other children to perform the task Oskar had - stuffing food from their plates into bags. Schultz noticed he wasn't eating quite as fast, but he still seemed intent on eating even the dish.

"He is a growing boy," the guard's wife said matter-of-factly, noticing the shocked look.

Schultz glanced away and then back. No, this time the food didn't just vanish, the guard reassured himself. Still, Oskar ate fast. "Yes, and soon he will grow through the roof." The family laughed. Heinrich and Heidi giggled at the thought of Oskar's head crashing through their ceiling. The older children considered how wonderful family dinners would be with the Rubin kids there. Hopefully, someday, Oskar considered, silently praying.

The fat sergeant walked over to the large pot, hoping to grab seconds. "Is anyone eating this?" he inquired, pointing to a package which he presumed contained some of the casserole. Its contents would quickly be added to the bags under the table when dinner was over.

"That is for if anyone wants a snack in a couple minutes," his wife teased him lovingly. The fellow appreciated the humor his wife applied, his fat belly bouncing as he laughed. "Seriously, it is for Mrs. Mueller, if we take some later for supper."

Schultz sensed that his wife had done a very good job of keeping them in one piece during the war. Perhaps, he pondered as he noticed his eldest silently praying, that faith has something to do with it. Hoping he would not be refused as he had when he'd sought to be part of their activities, he spoke to his son. "Let us read that Bible together after this."

Oskar prayerfully gained courage as he pondered venturing down to visit Micah, Isaac, and Moses. He wished they could spend more time down there, but with his dad home he didn't want to risk it. It's a good thing it's so easy to sneak past him, Oskar considered. "Could we do it after a bit...oops," he remarked, spilling a glass of water. "Clumsy me." He bent down to clean it up, shielding their father's view as Heinrich and Heidi collected the bags of food. Albert further drew Hans' attention by speaking to him from another room.

Hans Schultz wished to explore his son's faith, given his country's condition. Oskar, meanwhile, liked to deliver food, just as their mother preferred handling all the duties, as their leader, but he figured one of the others could just as easily go. They were all very well trained, after all. He created a circle with his lips as if to make an "oo" sound and looked at Albert, who showed he caught the sign by scratching his right ear. Oskar told his father that "on second thought, we can do that now." He went into the living room to grab one of the Bibles with the fake cover. Gretchen, as part of "level two," which they employed with not only Schultz there, but Newkirk still needing to come back, casually watched the window.

Schultz pondered the hours he spent developing new toys as he watched his children. His precious little ones had valuable parts of their lives stripped by war. He thought of Colonel Hogan and his men, too. He'd thought of reporting them, at times. However, he did not wish to take sides, especially knowing he wasn't receiving all the facts. He couldn't dream of being a Nazi. No wonder he'd been so happy to realize Oskar had really been reading the Bible.

Hans considered the boy's at times abrupt treatment of him. Why was he being handled like this? Was it his being sergeant of the guard? Was Oskar so against the military that he would turn on his own father? Or, did he somehow know that his father had been derelict in his duties at camp, thus opening him up to the scorn of a professed young Nazi?

Albert took the last step into the basement confidently, and walked past the large crate, sitting in the open as part of their "Level Two" status. Pushing aside boxes, he entered the small alcove which formed the Rubins' living quarters. He checked that all items were securely stashed, as the family remained on alert during the entire time Hans or another family member stayed there. "Joseph," he uttered lowly, "it is me. Have you had any dreams?"

Micah smiled. The food, still lukewarm, provided a welcome reminder that he was human. He contemplated Oskar, the one who walked so closely with the Lord, and realized that Oskar was his age when he and his family started caring for them. Albert provided many rehearsals, but to him and his brothers, Oskar was their true leader, one who exemplified Christ even more than Mrs. Schultz, though she did a very good job.

"Is Mr. Schultz still up there," Micah wondered. Isaac and Moses ravenously dug into their food with the tin utensils and plates, the former considering his favorite Bible story, that of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego. The glow from an oil lamp illuminated things. He was.

Moses looked tenderly at the light. "Is this what camp fires are like?" he inquired. Oskar had told them numerous stories of camping out in the woods.

"Sort of, except you hear animals like crickets." Noticing the blank stare, Albert determined that they would camp out at some point soon after they found freedom. There, he thought, I have pondered things besides more practicing. Mother and Oskar will be proud. "Crickets are bugs that make a chirping type of noise," he remarked, doing his best to imitate one.

While Albert talked and played games with the Rubins, having matured as he started to have more fun and be less strict, Oskar found himself considering his father's love as he sat back at the table. Perhaps Mother is right, he considered, recalling the Confessing Church, as they talked more about it in private. He knew his siblings were trusting Christ. But, he really wanted to make sure his father had, before they did anything else.

And yet, part of him still worried. Worried about what his father was forced to hear, concerned about how his attitudes might have been shaped by that need to follow orders.

"I was hoping to spend some time alone with you," Hans told the boy. "You are almost a grown man now; you are already thirteen!" Far better than when I was a teen, Schultz considered. They looked at each other for several moments. Neither could think of anything to say, the patriarch still unsure where his son stood on things, the son only slightly less wary of his father.

Finally, recalling that his dad at least knew he was a Christian, Oskar posed this question. "Father, may I ask you a spiritual question?" He could. "If something were to happen, do you know if you would go to Heaven?"

What a silly question, he thought. "We are going to make it out of this war in one piece," he began, suddenly feeling that odd sensation he got when Colonel Hogan would trick him. What kind of question was this, really? "We are going to make it, aren't we?" he asked, a little concerned. Suddenly, the fears of being discovered - even betrayed - flew back to him.

Oskar wished he could reassure his father. In that second, the tense voice and slightly disturbed look told Oskar his dad might be just as apprehensive as he.

"I do not know, I only know I pray long and hard for great courage, and to make it safely to freedom," Oskar remarked. Of course, that last referred to their illicit hiding of Jews, but he knew his father could interpret it as being freed from conflict. "I can pray because I have a personal relationship with God. It is so much better than following our leaders; they are not as you have taught us to be. They are not nice." Oskar made this remark not only as a prelude to his discussion, but also as one final test to ensure his father's genuine dislike for things Nazi.

Hans discerned extreme faith in the child, the kind he didn't think would come until the boy was his age, and he himself was a very old man. Schultz considered that he, too, was being felt out, to determine how much he could be trusted. Perhaps he'd been away too long.

The guard nodded almost unnoticeably, hiding slightly his disdain for their wicked ways, still a little wary. He affirmed his eldest's comments with a "true," considering that he could trust Oskar not to report any purposeful ignoring of prisoners. "They are not nice. Oskar, just because I am in the military does not make me a bad person. I do not even consider myself a soldier." Is he still thinking of his poor friends, Schultz wondered. He could never have condoned that. He concluded that, while he'd always been a neutral, perhaps as much as anything, thinking about thwhat could be happening to the Jews, after the terrors of the "Night of the Broken Glass" before the war, convinced him to want to know nothing of the Allied prisoners' activities.

"I know, Father. I am just worried. How would you answer God, if He were to ask why he should let you into Heaven?"

"I would say that I trusted Him as my Savior years ago." Sensing Oskar's broad grin, Schutlz said, "I had been meaning to talk about it with you, in fact." He shook his head. "When it comes to war, I do not like to take sides. But, it is very hard sometimes, when all we hear is hatred. Our leaders have told us lies." He wouldn't say what he thought those lies were, but he did say, "I have been worried you were taken in by them."

Oskar lowered his head in shame. "I worried the same thing about you, Father. I am sorry."

"It is all right." He put an arm around him, and they hugged. They spoke for a few more minutes about how things were going with the war, about their feelings toward their leaders, and so on. I am glad we had this chance to talk," he said at the end.

Once they were done, Schultz decided to take a walk. Carl was playing while watching the window. Suddenly, he noticed Schultz walking toward Mrs. Mueller's. He jumped up and raced out the front door. "Father, you should not go in there. She is probably taking a nap." Newkirk, meanwhile, had slipped out the back door and down into the tunnel.

The guard knocked, but received no answer. He saw no movement, either. "Maybe you are right." Schultz walked with Carl around the neighborhood for a few moments, talking about things – Carl had gotten in no fights since early last year, which he was very proud of. He was also doing well in school. Finally, Schultz and Carl came back in.

Heinrich announced that he was in, but Newkirk got turned around in the still slightly unfamiliar house, and came out of the childrens' bedroom and ran right into Schultz.