River Rocks: A West Virginia Adventure Novel

by Steve Kittner

  Tiny laid the deer hide with the code on it down on the long table with the spindle legs. “Bring that lantern closer, Josh,” he said. They all gathered around the table. “Okay, now…the numbers are just numbers but the letters represent something. And it’s just O and D. Give me your ideas, young people. What could they represent?” he said smiling at the boys with fresh, sharp minds.

  They started rattling off ideas, “Order and Deliver, Open and Door, Out and…”

  Tiny and Burl also had their minds at work, but silently. Looking at the door and then the letters and numbers.

  Josh said, “Over and Done.”

  Burls eyebrows pulled down hard as if to reveal discovery. “Josh, that’s it! Over is right.”

  Tiny picked up on Burl’s thoughts. “Over and Down! It’s Over and Down!”

  “Over and Down!” Burl confirmed his breakthrough.

  “We are supposed to count stones! Edmond Mansfield was a stone mason. Of course, we are supposed to think like masons,” Eddie said.

  The team stepped towards the doorway that Burl and Brad had worked so hard to enter. Tiny was holding the code and Josh had the lantern. Eddie now had the flashlight. They looked at the stones that surrounded the door and then walked over to one of the doorways to the interior rooms of the basement. All the doorways were constructed the same way.

  “According to the code, we start at the door and go 6 over, 2 down…” Tiny looked confused as he was speaking. “But the thing is, where do we start? Which stone do we start with? There are fifteen stones that make up the perimeter of that doorway. Seven up each side and then a long header stone that runs across the top.”

  They all turned towards the center of the room and talked in a circle like a football huddle with their backs to the entryway door.

  Burl said, “Yeah we could count from each stone and it will take us to a different final stone every time. There is something about this that doesn’t make sense. These foundation stones are only about a foot tall by two feet long. How could there be a vault behind any one of these?”

  Eddie suggested, “Let’s just take the small hammer and tap on them and listen for hollow sounds….

  “You’re wasting your time!” A commanding voice said, coming from the doorway.

  That bolt of electricity that only comes from fear or shock or a combination of both jolted its way through every man in the basement. It took every breath and made the guys jump with alarm.

  Two men stood in the doorway, silhouettes in the heavy fog that rolled behind them. Both men wore light trench coats and hats. The lantern couldn’t catch their faces but after the tremors of fear had shaken their way out of Josh and Eddie’s bodies, they both knew the voice.

  Mansfield!

  Josh walked closer to the doorway and the lantern light moved with him. As the light worked its way across the room and up the coats of Mansfield and his unknown partner, the gentlemen stepped into the basement.

  Mansfield said, “You kids have done good work. And very fast, too. There are people who have been trying to get to this point for years, myself included.”

  There was a long pause as Mansfield waited for a response. The five guys were looking around at each other, sizing up Mansfield and his partner. They didn’t know whether to start kicking butts or to hear him out. Mansfield was kind of a jerk but that was just his personality. That was the way he was.

  Josh spoke up, “Yeah…and we know who else.”

  “I know you do, Josh. And the other team is not nearly as friendly as we are.”

  “We know that too,” Josh said. “Who is your friend?” he asked a little bit disrespectfully.

  Elton Mansfield smiled and he turned an upward palm to his friend. “Gentleman ,this is my good friend John Hopes. Navy veteran, newspaperman, and investigative reporter.”

  Mr. Hopes spoke up. “And retired from all of it,” he said with a grin, touching his hat. He lightened the mood a little bit when he said it. They could immediately tell that he was a much friendlier person than Mansfield.

  Burl looked at Josh and Eddie.

  “You’re the reporter who bought the old Bible that belonged to Clyde Franklin!” Josh exclaimed.

  John Hopes walked over to Josh. “Right you are, young man. In 1958 I walked into a small bookstore. You know I am always looking for rare books and even first editions. I was looking around and just happened to see this very old-looking King James Version and I just thought it was a nice piece. Something that would look good on the fireplace mantle at home. More for decoration than reading. I had my reading Bible, of course. So I bought it and walked out. When I got to the car I put it on the seat and drove off. It was a nice warm day so I had the windows down. The wind started fluttering the pages around and something caught my attention, a piece of paper.”

  “The note about the red can and the document.” Josh assumed.

  Hopes nodded his head slowly. “Clyde Franklin’s note that told about something very important on this river. Of course, with that note he was a guilty man but he was long dead so it mattered none.”

  “True.” Josh nodded his head. “Then you wrote an article about it.”

  “Yeah, big mistake as it turns out. It convinced a lot of people to go exploring for gold over the years. We never thought the old can would ever turn up, though. Never in a million years. Not after the flood carried it away from his porch on Red Creek. Bad flash flood, that was.”

  Burl, Tiny, Eddie, and Brad were listening intently, still not sure of what to make of the situation. There was a moment of silence and then informal introductions were made for all those who did not know each other. There was some hand shaking and the atmosphere began to feel a little less edgy after everyone knew everyone and Josh couldn’t wait to ask:

  “Mr. Mansfield, why do you say we are wasting our time?” Josh’s look said give me a good reason.

  Mansfield grinned confidently. He had the same look in his eye that Tiny got when he knew something that everyone else didn’t.

  Tiny had rolled the deer-hide document up and was now leaning against the big table with it securely in his hand, just listening.

  “Well, the first document, the one that you left a copy of in my library, indicated that there was something here, another clue, in an island bank.” Mansfield smiled at Tiny, looking at the deer hide in his hand. “Looks like you found it.”

  “We did,” Tiny responded, keeping their new clue close to the cuff.

  “And that’s just what I figured. I figured there was another clue here and not the gold itself because the reference to the island was key to the vault. You understand, it didn’t say Gold in the vault. It said the key to the vault, in an island bank. And that could have meant an actual key or the final clue. And from what I overheard you guys say, you have the key. You have the directions to the vault once you find the right location. But what I have is the location. And it’s not here.”

  “The gold is not on the island?!” Burl said.

  Elton Mansfield slowly shook his head.

  “But how do you know?” Josh asked. “We were so sure.”

  “Let me ask you something; does your clue make any sense in this basement?” Mansfield asked.

  “Kinda doesn’t,” Tiny responded. He paused and then said, “So what do you have? What information do you have that tells you the gold is somewhere else?”

  Mansfield paused. His mouth opened but no words came out at first. Then he spoke. “My Great grandfather’s dying words. Handed down from generation to generation. His last words to his wife were; ‘Gold….E-21.’”

  “Gold E-21. What does that mean?” Brad asked.

  “No one ever knew. No one ever knew until last night.” He turned to Josh and Eddie. Do you guys remember that little drawing at the bottom of the page on the first document?”

  “Yeah. We drew it line for line but never really figured it out. There were parts that were faded or missing from getting wet or age or whatever.”

  �
��I was studying that last night, looking real carefully at it and I had to use some imagination, but the more I looked at it the more I wondered and it soon became clear. I knew it was important or it wouldn’t be there. I added just three lines to it, where it was faded, and it jumped off the page and struck me as clear as day.”

  “What? What is it?” Josh pleaded excitedly.

  Mansfield looked at all the men in the room with concern. He let out a deep breath. “You see, if I tell you, then you will have the location and the directions or the key to finding the gold and I will still only have the location. So let’s face it; we have to come together. We have to become an alliance to find this gold, to solve this mystery. You have what I need and I have what you need. ” He stared at each of them in turn.

  There was a long pause in the old basement. Stone cold quiet. They all once again heard the unmistakable sound of the small boat engine going back up river. Turtle hooks must be all set. No one paid it too much attention.

  Everyone knew he was right. They must form one team to locate the gold. Josh looked at Eddie and nodded his head and then looked around at Tiny and Burl who gave the go ahead with a swish of his hand.

  “Why not; it’s not ours to keep anyway, right?” said Brad.

  “Let’s shake on it gentleman,” John Hopes said. “It’s the way I like to do business!” He smiled.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Emily Baker rolled over and looked at the bedside clock. She always slept a little lighter when Josh was camping. 12:25 it read. There was a half moon that night that lit the bedroom a little more than she liked for sleeping so she decided to get up and close the blinds a little more. As she did so, she looked out the window with sleepy eyes toward the riverbank where Josh and Eddie were probably telling ghost stories.

  She could see that the sky and the moon were clear and high but a blanket of fog lay along the river and rolled up on to the riverbank where they were camped. The fire was out and there was no light at the campsite other than what the moon provided but what she could make out terrified her. She gasped hard and immediately woke up Mr. Baker.

  …………………………………………………………………………….

  Giselle sat at her computer desk at home with her newly-purchased pile of college textbooks beside her. She was excited to start school and was just looking up some things from the first chapters of her new books, maybe to get a head start.

  Her cell phone ringer was turned off but as she sat there killing time until she was sleepy, her phone vibrated and “Bakers” was illuminated on her screen. Of course at this time of the night this was unusual and she was immediately concerned. She took the call.

  ……………………………………………………………………………

  “Gather around, gentleman.” Elton Mansfield reached into the inside pocket of his light trench coat and pulled out a yellow piece of legal pad paper. Josh smirked. He began to unfold it and spread it out flat on the large table as Burl grabbed the lantern and set it down beside it.

  “Now boys, you say you copied this line for line from the deer hide, correct?”

  “Sure did. We traced it and looked at it again and again to make sure everything was there. There were some smudge marks that…you couldn’t tell where they went. Just smeared ink but yeah, all the lines are on there,” Josh responded.

  “Okay, look here.” Elton Mansfield took a pen from his pocket and pointed it towards the drawing. “Look what happens when I add a line here, here and then a curved line here.”

  “Woooo!” the five guys said, nearly in unison. They all knew exactly what the drawing was immediately.

  Mansfield continued, “Now… do you guys think that those three lines are too much of a stretch? I mean, you could add lines to any part of this drawing, but the empty spaces that were there, to me, were just begging to be filled in and when I did, this is what popped out at me.”

  Burl Otis was shaking his head and grinning and said, “I think you nailed it. I think we have the location. It’s got to be it!”

  Tiny looked on in disbelief, shaking his head and smiling broadly. “Can you believe it; after all these years it’s right there. Right there! And not a quarter mile from where the holdup took place!” He paused a second.” Ya see? Now that makes sense!”

  Seven men stood around a table with a lantern dimly lighting a century old basement stocked with supplies from a time gone by. They were captivated by what they were looking at. Although small, it was a perfectly illustrated drawing of what had been an area of recreation for so many people and for so many years. Many young Brooks boys had grabbed its stones and skipped them across the river to see if they could hit the banks on the other side. Goodness, Tiny Brooks even had a picture of his great-grandfather fishing there. Josh and Eddie would row and even swim sometimes across the river from Josh’s house to play or fish there. The old sand bar and the stone train trestle!

  The sandbar had been a starting point for many of Josh and Eddie’s camping adventures when they would head into the hills of Red Creek for a night or two. They had caught many a fish standing on those rocks in front of that trestle. They had run through the tunnel many times, jumping from rock to rock to keep from getting their feet wet in the creek that ran through it. Could it really be? Could that gold really be in a vault constructed in that trestle over a hundred years ago?

  Burl continued to shake his head and smile. He had set traps near that tunnel, had taken refuge from hard summer rain showers in there and had never considered in a million years that it was anything but a limestone train trestle built to carry the C&O coal trains out of the hills of Mountain County. He glanced over at Tiny.

  Tiny recollected how, as a boy, he had many, many times walked those tracks down to the trestle with a cane pole in his hand to see if he could catch lunch for his family. And many times he did! He would walk back home at the end of the day with his big trademark smile and a stringer of catfish. This old sand bar, as simple as it was, had provided a lot of enjoyment for a lot of people through the years

  And now for everyone in that old basement, that sandbar and trestle took on a whole new element of excitement. Adventure, like never before for any of them, awaited downstream just a half mile.

  Elton spoke solemnly, “You see, my great grandfather helped construct these train trestles along this river all the way from the Clay County-line to Charleston. There were a lot of crews but he was a foreman on the crew that was camped here on the island. He and his men would frequent this tavern. Times were very hard back then and a man would sometimes do things he wouldn’t normally do to earn money to provide for his family. Three months later, after striking a deal with Clyde Franklin, Edmond Mansfield was shot and killed by Franklin…for knowing too much. When he lay dying he muttered Franklin’s name. That’s how we know it was Franklin, although it could never be proven. Then he took his last breath and then said, “Gold- E21”

  Everyone knew that story.

  “So he built the trestle that holds the gold! Trestle E-21, and the vault that’s in it. And I know from research that Trestle E-21 is that trestle just downriver. The very next train trestle! And they were marked. The trestle numbers were chiseled into the top of the arch.”

  “I never noticed that,” said Eddie.

  “We will look, but we need to get on down there…tonight. I know that Collins will be hot on the trail,” Hopes suggested.

  “Mansfield asked, “How can we get there?”

  Brad Radcliffe smiled his biggest! Burl wasn’t so sure.

  The newly-formed team gathered all their equipment from the basement and exited through the door through which they had entered earlier. They pulled the door closed as best they could and headed over to the wide path that lead to the church baptizing area where the raft was concealed and securely tied up under a willow tree. The fog was incredibly dense on the river but straight up you could see the moon well. A beautiful summertime half-moon that
helped to light the path from above.

  From about a hundred yards away Brad’s keen ears detected movement. His head snapped around to the north side of the island from where the disturbance had come and scanned the trees. It could be anything: a deer, a muskrat, a bobcat or even a bear. Brad put his hands around his eyes to block the lantern light and stared into the darkness. He saw nothing, but definitely heard a branch crack. No one said anything but all stood motionless for a few more seconds. Brad shrugged one shoulder. They were leaving anyway.

  Brad and Josh walked over to the willow tree, untied the vessel and pulled it over to where they could lay the plank across to board it. Brad made a mental note to get a permanent plank that he could keep on the raft for this purpose.

  John Hopes and Elton Mansfield looked at the craft, both in amazement and apprehension.

  “Will it hold us all?” Mansfield asked with concern.

  Tiny responded, “We had all five of us on it and it only set down in the water about four inches. I think she has room for two more.” He smiled as he passed equipment to Eddie on board.

  After studying the craft, Hopes looked forward to the adventure. He had been quite the fun seeker as a kid, too.

  Downriver would be easy, just a matter of keeping it between the banks and dodging the rocks. The current would do the work for them. With Josh’s sharp eyes on the bow and Brad at the tiller, they pushed off from the island. John Hopes smiled and even laughed a little. He was a kid again.

  They drifted effortlessly and, without incident, floated within a few yards of the sandbar as Brad was setting up his approach. Josh took a glance to the right, where their campsite was set up, and knew immediately that something didn’t look right. Even with the fog and low light he could see that their tent was down and their V-bottom AlumaCraft boat was gone! They had been raided!

  “Brad! Steer us over there!” Josh said in a screaming whisper.

  “What in the world?!” Eddie followed up. “What happened? Where’s the boat?”