"I do."

Robert and Judge Pryor exchanged looks.

"You're probably right," Robert sighed. He looked at the judge. "She's always right."

I leaned back on the davenport. It made me heartsick to think Herr Mueller was aiding the n.a.z.is, sending valuable minerals from America's land, her heart, right back to the enemy she was fighting. I put my hand to my forehead and closed my eyes. "I am so sorry."

"Don't you be sorry, Louisa. Mueller's been stopped. That's all that's important. He might have continued this thievery for years; we were certainly fools enough to let him." Judge Pryor shook his head in disgust and left to go to the telegraph office.

I ran upstairs to get Herr Mueller's ring and put it in my pocket.

When Robert and I arrived at the telegraph office, we found Ernest and the judge pouring over the ledger. The judge looked up and saw Robert. "Mueller wires money regularly to a bank account in Switzerland. He's been doing it for years."

"Judge, he told me he had a sick father who needed the support," Ernest rushed to say. "I never thought another thing about it. It's not my job to get into people's business. You know that, Judge. I took an oath of office."

"I know, I know all about your oath, Ernest. Now keep adding up those figures."

"Let's see. Here's one from last summer. He wired $1,325."

One thousand dollars, three hundred, and twenty-five dollars. Mrs. Drummond's money. Sent covertly to the n.a.z.is. I felt as if I might be ill. I sat down in a chair and put my head in my hands. Thankfully, no one noticed; they were leaning over the counter, examining the ledger, trying to connect all of the dots of Herr Mueller's operation. I went outside to get fresh air, leaning against the building and breathing deeply.

Down the street, I spied Robert's church. I knew I had to get inside and soak up the quiet. I didn't even know how to pray about all of this. My thoughts were so jumbled; so much had happened in scarcely a few days' time.

I went into Robert's office to find his Bible, turned on the desk light, and sat at his desk. His Bible was right on top. I picked it up, anxiously thumbing through it, looking for something to help console me, landing on Proverbs 3:25, 26: "Be not afraid of sudden fear, neither of the desolation of the wicked, when it cometh. For the Lord shall be thy confidence, and shall keep thy foot from being taken."

Comforted, I smiled. The Lord shall be my confidence. I took a deep breath and started to feel calmer.

I heard a door open to the sanctuary. "Robert? I'm in here," I called out.

But there was no answer.

A chill went up my spine. Intuitively, I sensed who was in the church. I took the chunky ring from my pocket and placed it in Robert's Bible, closed it and put it on his chair just as Herr Mueller walked into the office. He locked the door leading to the sanctuary behind him. I stood behind the desk, ready to face him, as boldness from some deep place welled up within me.

"Frau Gordon. May I congratulate you on your nuptials? What a clever trick. I wouldn't have thought it possible for the pious Reverend to lie in a vow before G.o.d."

"You sent that INS officer, didn't you, Herr Mueller? And you've been sending money from the people in this town to Berlin to support the n.a.z.is, haven't you?"

A shadow crossed his face. Encouraged, I decided to take the offensive and keep going. "Robert and Judge Pryor are over at the telegraph office right now, adding up the money you've wired to a bank in Switzerland. Money that belongs to the people in this town. You've been found out. It's over, Herr Mueller." Slowly, I started moving toward the door.

"Oh, no, it isn't, Frulein." His face twisted into a wicked grin. "You are my most valuable commodity now. You're coming with me." He came around the desk to grab me as I turned and kicked him hard in the shin. He leaned over in pain as I tried to slip past him. He was doubled over, clutching his shin. I reached a hand out to the door that led outside, only to feel a sharp blow strike the back of my head.

I had the strangest thought before everything went dark: Ruth left her wedding ring on Robert's pillow so he would know she left. I left Herr Mueller's ring for him so that he would know to find me.

Chapter Thirteen.

I had no idea how much time elapsed between the confrontation with Herr Mueller in the church and the point when I regained consciousness. The back of my head had a swelling knot; blood trickled down my neck. My hands and my feet were bound with rope.

Where was I? In the back of a filthy truck. Gingerly, I sat up. There were boxes and sacks scattered everywhere. I wiggled over to the back opening of the truck. I peeked out the opening and saw Herr Mueller, at the front of a mine, talking to a miner, his arms waving and pointing as if giving directions.

I noticed a boy trudging out of the mines. I only spotted him because he had a shock of bright red hair. The miner called the boy over and pointed to another truck. Wearily, the boy climbed onto the back of the truck and waited, legs swinging back and forth like a pendulum.

I tried to get the ropes off of my hands; I was going to have to work quickly to escape out the back of the truck while Herr Mueller was preoccupied. Just then I heard Herr Mueller's voice yell out as he walked back to the truck. "Carter! I want that ore delivered today! No excuses!"

I whipped my head around and looked at the man Herr Mueller called Carter and then at that forlorn boy. Curly red hair like that wasn't very common. It was as loud as a trumpet. Glenda's nephew! I was sure of it.

Herr Mueller walked to the truck. I wiggled to where I had been laying so he wouldn't think I had regained consciousness. He glanced quickly at me in the back of the truck, then walked around to the driver's seat and climbed in. He started the truck, backed it up, and headed down the b.u.mpy, dirt road leading from the mine to the highway.

I wondered which way he would drive when he hit the highway. I hoped it might be north to Copper Springs, but I doubted it would be so. He turned south, just like that convoy I had seen one night when I first arrived in Copper Springs, when Robert and I returned from visiting Mrs. Drummond. Toward Mexico.

Think, Louisa, think.

I knew my chance for escape was better now than it would be in Mexico. Copper Springs was only a few miles from the border town of Naco in the Mexican state of Sonora. I hoped to get the attention of the border guards when we stopped, but Herr Mueller either knew them well or had paid them off. Or both. He didn't even stop the truck; the border guards waved him through. Herr Mueller sped through the border so quickly that I didn't have any opportunity to be seen. My heart sank as I watched the United States recede from the b.u.mpy view out the back of the truck.

I settled back, leaning against the truck's side, resigning myself to the realization that I was going to be stuck for a while. I weighed my options and tried to review the skills I'd been taught in the Resistance.

Rule number one: Try to escape. Herr Mueller was driving so fast I dare not try to jump out the back; I doubted I would survive the fall on such steeply curving, rocky roads. My best chance for escape was to get the ropes untied, so I concentrated on trying to loosen them. They were so tight they were making rope burns on my wrists as I wiggled my fingers.

My feet felt numb. I tried to wiggle over to one of the sacks to see what was inside. It took a few minutes, but finally I was able to open one up. Inside the sack were money, papers, valuable coins, jewelry, and countless other personal treasures.

With my hands tied together, I pulled out one of the papers. It was a stock certificate for a company called International Business Machines made out to Edward and Isabel Pryor. Judge Pryor!

I looked through more sacks. They were filled with a.s.sets stolen from the bank's safety deposit boxes. Besides stock certificates, war bonds, and cash, there were marriage and birth certificates, charm bracelets, rings, gold coins, Confederate money, even baby teeth. Treasures of the town. The sacks were so hastily bundled together that I deduced Mueller must have just recently started looting the bank. But that also meant he wasn't planning to return to Copper Springs.

Just then, one of the sacks moved.

I froze.

A little sandy haired boy popped his head out of the sack and grinned sheepishly at me. William! I almost said his name but quickly caught myself. I showed my bound hands to him, and he scrambled out of the sack to help me untie the ropes. As soon as my hands were freed, I worked on my feet. After a quick hug, I pulled away to look at him carefully. "How did you find me?"

"See Bad Man. See you. Go find Girl."

William must have seen Herr Mueller put me in the back of his truck and somehow climbed in, unnoticed.

I still had to reduce what I wanted to tell William to the bare essentials. I tried not to show it, but I was terribly worried to see him. I knew Robert would be frantic. I needed to warn William.

"Hide from Bad Man. Stay in truck," I said to him. What I wanted to tell him was: "William, I don't know where we're going. I don't want Herr Mueller to see you. He may try to hurt you. Stay in the truck as long as you can and try to find me. We're going to escape when we get a chance." I wasn't sure how long I could keep William safe, but seeing him only resolved my determination: I was not going to let Herr Mueller win this battle.

Herr Mueller careened off the b.u.mpy main road and on to a single lane dirt road. Another worry. How could Robert find us if we were heading into a remote area?

Think fast, Louisa.

I looked at the sacks and grabbed one. If I could leave a paper trail, perhaps it might alert someone to Herr Mueller's hideaway. I tried to get only identifying papers, not cash or coins. I leaned out of the truck and dropped the papers low toward the road, so they wouldn't fly up and broadcast to Herr Mueller what I was doing. Herr Mueller was speeding so quickly that I had to use one hand to hang on to the truck's side, leaning over the back.

In scarcely a few hours' time, we arrived at what seemed to be an oasis in the midst of a desert. A Mexican guard stopped the truck, apparently not accustomed to seeing Herr Mueller drive a truck. Herr Mueller barked at him, and the guard bowed respectfully and let him drive up the long driveway, lined with palm trees, to a palatial Spanish house.

I quickly motioned to William to get back in the sack, and I re-tied my hands and feet. Herr Mueller stopped the truck at the top of the hill crowned by a large gurgling fountain in front of the house. Deep fuchsia-colored bougainvillea climbed the walls of the grand house's stucco exterior.

Just as I had often wondered in Copper Springs, how did Herr Mueller seem to have an abundance of water available to him in a desert land?

A Mexican man quickly ran out to open his truck door. Herr Mueller spoke to the man in Spanish, walked to the back of the truck, and opened the hatch door. "Well, look who has woken up. h.e.l.lo, Frulein, welcome to my home-away-from-home. Mi casa es su casa."

He pulled me to the edge of the truck and untied my feet so that I could walk. He grabbed my arm roughly and walked with me to the front door. I glanced at the truck as the man drove it back down the hill, and begged G.o.d to protect William and keep him out of sight.

An older Mexican woman opened the door just as Herr Mueller and I approached the entryway. She curtsied to him, noticed the ropes around my hands, but avoided my eyes.

"Maria will take you to the guest room. Frulein, I trust you will be quite comfortable in my home. Later, there is someone whom you will be most interested in meeting."

I wasn't interested in meeting any of his acquaintances. "Herr Mueller-how long am I going to be here? What are you planning to do with me?"

He laughed a throaty laugh. "You want to leave so soon? You don't like my hospitality? Not to worry, Frulein. You won't be here long. But first, I have a few loose ends to tie up here." His eyes narrowed to slits, warning darkly, "and don't try anything stupid."

Herr Mueller turned and walked away from us, down a hallway of terra cotta tiles. Just as I thought about trying to get past Maria to the door, she clapped her hands, and another servant stepped out from behind the wall part.i.tion, carrying a fierce looking rifle.

Maria motioned for me to follow her as the guard followed behind me. She led me down a separate hallway, past many doors, and finally opened a door to a bedroom. The room was beautifully decorated in Spanish decor, including a large bed, nightstand, desk and chair, with a small private bathroom. I had a grudging admiration for Herr Mueller's taste for fine living until it occurred to me that the townspeople of Copper Springs were, unwittingly, financing his luxurious quarters.

"Est bien?" Maria asked.

No, Maria, being kept as a prisoner was not good for me, even if the accommodations were luxurious. But I only nodded.

"Traere la cena p.r.o.nto."

p.r.o.nto? I remembered Rosita calling out to Esmeralda to be "p.r.o.nto." I think it meant quick or fast. "Cena? Comida?" I asked Maria, hoping she was telling me she would bring food soon. I might have just been kidnapped, but it hadn't diminished my appet.i.te.

"S, s. Traere la cena p.r.o.nto." Maria untied the ropes on my hands and backed cautiously out of the room. I heard her lock the door from the outside, give orders to the guard in Spanish, and then shuffle back down the hallway. Then I heard the guard sc.r.a.pe a chair along the tiled floor before sitting down on it.

I rubbed my sore wrists and went over to the window to look outside. Decorative wrought iron bars prevented the obvious escape. I examined the bars more closely. They were impossible to bend or break, but...a small five-year-old boy just might be able to squeeze through the narrow railings. I looked below the window and saw bushes.

There was only a three-foot climb from the house's foundation up to my window. Where could William be? How could I let him know where I was? I kept rubbing my wrists and went into the bathroom to wash off the dried blood from Herr Mueller's blow to my head.

In the bathroom mirror, I studied my reflection. The blouse I was wearing nearly shouted right back at me. It was a bright red plaid top that Rosita had given to me recently as a hand-me-down. Rosita was so well endowed that I had ample fabric to spare. I had planned to tailor it but hadn't had a chance yet. I pulled it up out of my skirt and bit through the bottom edge, tearing a few inches along the entire hem.

I returned to the window and scanned for the truck where William was hiding. A guard looked over at the house, stared at my window, and lazily started strolling around. I craned my neck as far as I could and saw the very back edge of the truck, parked close to the house. I kept looking at the truck, hoping to see William.

Once, I could have sworn I saw his head pop out, but then he was gone again. I wondered if he might be safer if he stayed in the truck, but I wasn't sure how long Herr Mueller planned to keep me here. I tied my homemade flag onto the bars of the window. I prayed the guards wouldn't notice, but that William, somehow, would.

Lord, how can a child understand how serious this situation is? And you know William, Lord. You know how audacious he can be around Herr Mueller. Please send angels to protect him.

I tucked my shirt back in and stayed posted by the window, hoping to catch sight of William before the guards did. I was concentrating so intently that my heart skipped a few beats, so startled was I when Maria unlocked the door to bring a tray of food.

"Todo est bien?" she asked.

I nodded, not really sure what to think about her. Could she be an ally? How devoted was she to Herr Mueller? She set the tray on the desk and left. At least I couldn't complain about the food. It looked and smelled delicious. I recognized some of the dishes from Rosita's cooking. Thankfully, there were generous portions. Before I ate, I wrapped up food into the flour tortillas, trying to save as much food as I could for William. I put the food in a towel and hid it in the bathroom. I wasn't sure if or when Maria would return for the dishes.

Too soon, Maria shuffled back down the hallway and unlocked the door. She seemed to be a little less suspicious of me, perhaps a.s.suming, erroneously, that I wasn't going to try and escape. She left the door open while she came for the tray. I saw the guard sound asleep in his chair, snoring loudly. Just as I was about to slip out the door and past the guard, from the corner of my eye, I saw the top of William's head jump up and down, like a kangaroo, trying to peek in my window.

I tried to distract Maria so she wouldn't notice him. "Maria, are you the cook, too? La cocinera? The dinner was so good! Comida es muy bueno!" I walked over to the open door and leaned against it so that she had to turn away from the window. It worked.

Maria picked up the tray, shook her head to say "no" and left, locking the door behind her. I heard her kick the guard's chair, giving him a tongue lashing in Spanish for sleeping on the job.

William popped his head back up from the bushes under my window. I ran to the window and looked for the guards, signaling to William to crouch down behind the bushes. As soon as the guard turned and walked around the corner of the house, I reached down and pulled William up by the hands, carefully helping him squeeze through the bars. "William! You are so smart! How did you find me?"

He pulled at my sleeve and pointed to the window, indicating that he saw my flag made from my blouse. I quickly took the flag down and turned back to hug him. Then I jumped up and ran to the bathroom to get the food I had hidden for him. He, too, was famished and gratefully ate.

As he ate, I looked around the room to see if there was a place I could hide him if someone came to my room. Under the bed seemed to be the most logical spot. I said to William, "Girl comes. Brings food. Hide under bed. Wait."

"Girl?" William asked eagerly. "See Girl?"

"Yes. Girl comes. Brings food. Hide!" I answered.

I hardly slept, as exhausted as I was. I kept waking up, convinced I heard footsteps coming down the hall, but it was only the window-rattling snore of the guard posted at my door.

I worried about Robert and Aunt Martha. I could only imagine the anxiety they must be experiencing. What were they thinking had happened to us? Had Robert found the ring? Did he realize it was a clue? Close to dawn, I fell into a troubled sleep.

When I woke up, William was nowhere to be found. Panicking, I looked under the bed, in the bathroom, and the closet. The door was still locked. He must have sneaked out through the window while I was asleep. I shouldn't have been surprised. That boy was fearless. Just then, I heard Maria's shuffling footsteps, probably bringing breakfast to me. As soon as she came and went, I peered out the windows.

Not long afterward, I heard Herr Mueller's footsteps come down the hall. He spoke to the guard and knocked on my door. My heart was pounding. I still had not caught sight of William. Where could he have gone? I was terribly frightened Herr Mueller might spot him.

"Well, Guten Morgen, Frulein. How are you enjoying your accommodations?"

I tried to sound braver than I felt. I didn't want to let Herr Mueller think he could intimidate me, but my throat felt tight and raw. "Actually, Herr Mueller, I find them to be a bit confining."

"Yes. Yes, I see your point." He glanced at the window's iron bars. "Normally, I would apologize for keeping you so...shall we say...limited in your surroundings...but I just don't quite believe you can be trusted. Have patience, Frulein, it won't be much longer. Soon we will be on our way back to our homeland!" He smiled broadly.

So that was the plan. Herr Mueller was going to return me to Germany. First, he tried legal means within the United States, by tipping off the INS. When that plan was thwarted, he decided to deliver me there himself.

"Herr Mueller, I think I have guessed your strategy. A clever one, too. I think you bought up the copper mines while they were devalued during the Depression. You knew Germany would need the copper for its inevitable war. You take the copper from those mines and ship it all of the way back to Germany. Am I close to the truth?" I asked, trying to flatter him into revealing more.

He looked pleased. "You underestimate me. I have a far more extensive network than merely shipping copper to Germany." He pulled out a cigar and puffed on it until the smoke made me cough.

With a pang, I noticed it was a Wolf cigar from Hamburg. Dietrich's favorite.

"Do you know much about copper, Frulein?"

I nodded, reminded of Robert's lengthy discourses on copper production.

"Let me enlighten you even further. I sell my low grade copper ore, the ore from the open pits, to the United States Government for a very substantial profit. The lower grade ore takes a long time to process, and little good is derived from it. A pity for America, but she is happy to pay me for my ore, and is grateful for any help for their futile war effort."

He sat in the desk chair and put his feet up on the bed where I was sitting. I stood up and walked over to the window.

"The high grade copper ore from my mines is sent across the border to Mexico," he continued. "Labor is cheap, the high grade copper is easily processed, and the pure copper is shipped to Germany, where I am immensely benefiting der Fhrer."

He jumped to his feet and clapped his hands in delight. "It gets even better, Frulein. Then, I take the leftover minerals from the high grade copper: sulfur dioxide, slag, and even better, Frulein"-now he was getting animated-"the impurities from the copper metal are gold, silver, nickel, and platinum, and I sell it a second time at the going market rate to the United States. The beauty of it is that they pay more for those leftovers than they paid for the ore in the first place!" He laughed with delight. "Some call it a 'double dip.' Brilliant, yes?"