The baron was cunning. He knew that if he was supposed to be sleeping outdoors he would have a chance to examine the boarded-up window without arousing Frau Dinkelmann. He could also find the lady’s horse, and get both the horse and Toofer, the mule, ready for the road. “Dere iss hay py der corral,” said Frau Dinkelmann. “Den,” said the baron, going into the front room for his hat, “I vill shmoke, und shleep on der hay. Vat iss der preakfast time?” “Sigs o’glock, oder venefer you retty vas for vat ve haf. Gott sei dank, ve got somet’ing to eat.” Bidding Frau Dinkelmann good night, the baron left the house by the kitchen door, rounded the corner of the building, and crept stealthily to the boarded-up window. Lightly he tapped on the boards. A tapping on the other side of the barrier answered him. The baron breathed quick and hard. What would Nomad and Wild Bill not have given to be mixed up in such an adventure? Ach, du lieber, but he was a lucky Dutchman! After making sure that the lady had heard, and that she understood he would come to her rescue, the baron fell to examining the boards that closed up the opening. They had been stoutly spiked to the side of the house. In prying them away, it would be necessary to use an axe, and there would be considerable noise. The baron would have to wait until Frau Dinkelmann was fast asleep. Even then there was a chance that she would be aroused by his attack on the boards, but, if she was, he would rescue the lady anyway, and in spite of both the Dinkelmanns. The baron preferred, however, to rescue the lady quietly, and to get away from the house with her without making a scene with the muscular frau. Leaving the cabin, he went to the woodpile and found an axe. This he carried to the window, and laid on the ground beneath it, where it would be conveniently at hand when the time came to remove the boards. His next move was to go to the corral and look for the horse and the lady’s riding gear. He found both, and was not long in getting the horse and Toofer accoutred for the flight. Leading the animals out of the corral, he hitched them to a post where they would be ready for use at a moment’s notice; then he stealthily approached the cabin, and peered through the window of the living room. He was disappointed. Frau Dinkelmann was wide awake. She had drawn a chair in front of the door leading into the prison chamber, and was sitting in it. She was knitting. Across her ample lap, the ball of yarn dancing around it as it unrolled, lay an old-fashioned pistol with a bright brass cap under the hammer. The baron wondered if Frau Dinkelmann suspected that he was planning to assist the imprisoned lady. She was there on guard, that was evident. Impatiently the baron went back to the corral. Sitting on a forkful of hay and leaning against the corral fence, he smoked three pipes very slowly, and again went to the house and stole a look through the window.