Nick carefully studied the large open field before him. It was obviously a hay meadow, and it had been recently cut. In fact, Nick could see two tractors at one end of the field. One was pulling a hay rake that raked the loose hay into neat rows.
Following this tractor was the other one, which pulled a hay baler as it followed the rows of hay. Periodically, this tractor would stop, a gate at the back of the baler would rise, and a large roll of hay would be disgorged from the baler. The field was dotted with rolls of hay that had already been rolled by the baler. Nick experienced a brief moment of panic, as he worried that one of the large, heavy bales of hay might be lying on top of the hidden location of the strongbox.
Looking to his right, Nick saw that a house and barn were located a little over a hundred yards from the field. A barbed wire fence encompassed the entire field, and a gate between the house and pasture provided entry into the hay meadow. Trees had grown up thickly along this side of the barbed wire fence, effectively screening anyone from the house from having a clear view of the pasture. On the left side of the field, a heavy forest of hardwood hardwood trees bordered the hay meadow. Across the road opposite of Nick were more scattered fields bounded by patches of forest. Grazing cattle appeared here and there in some of these fields. The dirt road stretched out before him in more or less a straight line before disappearing over a small hill or ridge, and there didn’t seem to be another house or home along this remote stretch of road.
Puzzled, Nick studied the rather unremarkable hay meadow. It looked no different than the hundreds in and around Pleasant Mountain he had seen growing up. There were absolutely no landmarks that stood out, no rocky outcropping, no gigantic oak tree, not even a nearby creek or stream. What had Efurd Buckley been thinking when he buried the strongbox in this field? How could he hope to retrieve or find (or have somebody else find) the location of the strongbox? The fact that Buckley must have buried the strongbox in the ground was a detail readily apparent to Nick. There simply wasn’t anything else he could have done with it, because there was nowhere else he could have put it. Besides, even if there had been something else here over 140 years ago—like a cabin, barn, or even the hollow bole of a huge tree—they were gone now, and the map in the book still showed the strongbox to be here!
Nick thought back to the story of Efurd Buckley. Lilly had said he had been severely wounded in the attack on the train carrying the Union payroll. In fact, she said he had died days later in his wife’s arms. So putting himself in Buckley’s place, Nick tried to imagine what he would have done. Wounded, bleeding, perhaps even delirious, Buckley would have eventually reached a physical condition where he could no longer be too choosy where he hid the strongbox. In his mind’s eye, Nick could well imagine Buckley, just a few short miles from home, finally realizing he had to hide the Union payroll before he was too weak to do so. At that point, he must have struggled off his horse, dug a hole, and simply dropped the strongbox in it before covering it back up. By the time he reached his wife, he was probably so near death that he never had the opportunity to tell her where it was. It was as plausible an explanation as any, but whether or not it was true was unimportant to Nick. What was important was that the location of Efurd’s hidden gold was here in the field across from Nick! Grinning in anticipation, Nick started the car, his mind already formulating a plan.
He would come back tonight!
The day crawled by; minutes seemed like hours. When he had informed Jed he would be staying another night, the manager of the motel had been surprised, but fortunately, he had not asked any questions. Nick had spent most of the rest of the day by the motel pool unsuccessfully trying to keep his mind off the hidden treasure. Early evening arrived, and even though he still wasn’t hungry, Nick forced himself to eat, since he hadn’t eaten since the previous day. The meal went by in a blur. He didn’t remember what he had even eaten, as he speared and spooned the food dishes that clanked and rattled by him on the moving buffet. Going back to his room, Nick lay on his bed, periodically getting up to impatiently look through the curtains on the window to see if it had gotten any darker.
Blessedly, night finally fell, and Nick left his room and got into his car. Consulting his watch, he saw it was after ten o’clock. Then he checked the little pile of equipment in the passenger’s seat that he had put together to help retrieve the buried strongbox. One item was a collapsible shovel he had bought the previous year at an army/navy surplus store in Texarkana. He always kept it in the little car, just in case he ever got stuck in mud. Another was the flashlight in the glove compartment, and he had bought fresh batteries for it from Jed, who kept a supply of them in the motel office.
Finally, he had his empty duffel bag in preparation of carrying whatever was in the strongbox, along with a pair of leather gloves he had used when driving the forklift at his former job. He was as ready as he was ever going to be, and taking a deep breath, he started the car and drove to the spot he had scouted earlier that day.
Since he already knew where he was going, it took Nick less than fifteen minutes to reach the field where the strongbox lay buried. Killing the lights, Nick pulled as far off the dirt road as he could without going into the ditch. Turning off the car, Nick sat in silence. Besides someone from the house next to the field noticing his car and coming over to investigate, his greatest fear was another car coming by while he was engaged in trying to find and dig up the strongbox. However, that afternoon, not a single car had driven by in the half hour or so that he had been studying the area. Hopefully, the same would apply tonight.
Getting out of the car, Nick grabbed the duffel bag and stuffed the shovel and flashlight in it. Shoving the gloves in his back pocket, he picked up the duffel bag and laid it softly on the top of the Sprint. Taking care to make as little noise as possible, he grabbed The Book of Lost Treasures with one hand while easing the car door shut. Looking around, he saw in the distance the lights of the house through the screen of trees and heard a dog barking from somewhere around the house. A symphony of chirping crickets serenaded his ears, and from somewhere in the distance, he heard the deep bass croaking of a bullfrog. A three-quarter full moon provided dim illumination for Nick, and as he looked up, he saw scudding clouds as they drifted by and temporarily obscured the moon.
From the northwest horizon, lightning flickered, and even as Nick reached he barbwire fence, the wind picked up, portending a coming storm. Pulling out his gloves, Nick put them on. Dropping the duffel bag on the other side of the fence, he pulled two strands of barbwire apart and gingerly eased his body through them. Picking up the duffel bag, Nick pulled The Book of Lost Treasures from the duffel bag and, studying it, began walking into the pasture.
Since the map in the book glowed with its own light, Nick found he didn’t have to use his flashlight to see it. Zigzagging through the open field, Nick tried to get a fix as to where the strongbox was buried. A few times, he had to detour around the large, round bales of hay that were in his way. Finally, the red dot on the map was centered directly on the “Here Lies the Treasure” words on the map, which were now pulsing like a neon sign, and Nick knew he had reached the location of the buried strongbox. As he put the duffel bag down and dug the shovel out of it, he heard a low rumble of thunder, and the wind was now blowing steadily out of the northwest. The dog at the house was barking constantly as Nick hurriedly unfolded the collapsible shovel and locked it into place. Tentatively at first, and then with greater gusto, Nick began to dig.
Not really knowing just how pinpoint the accuracy of the map’s location of the buried strongbox, Nick made the hole he dug wide. After a short time, even with the stiff breeze that was blowing, Nick’s shirt was plastered in sweat as he continued digging in the hot, humid night air. After about fifteen minutes, he had managed to dig a hole approximately five feet in diameter and about three feet deep. Breathing heavily, Nick stopped for a rest as he sat on the edge of the hole. The dog was barking frantically, and even though it was becoming difficult to
hear over the strongly blowing wind, Nick thought he heard someone from the house yelling at the dog to shut up. A lightning flash from the approaching storm illuminated the area, and Nick realized he had to hurry if he was going to beat the storm.
As Nick redoubled his efforts, a sudden sense of foolishness came upon him. His life had been spent chasing dreams down rabbit holes, with each and every one leading to dead ends; yet, here he was at it again! What kind of idiot would be out in the dead of night, digging for hidden gold in the middle of a hay meadow, pointed there as it were by a mysterious map found in an equally mysterious book? Only Nick Hollister, the king of fools, the answer shouted in his mind! Angrily, he dug faster. “Not this time,” he told himself. “Not this time!”
So intent was he at digging that he almost missed the clunk as his shovel struck something solid. Pausing, Nick gingerly stuck the tip of the shovel again in the soft dirt. It struck something solid, and Nick, using the shovel’s tip, quickly outlined the object’s diameter. Frantically, he began to dig, and dirt flew out of the rapidly expanding hole. Soon, he partially uncovered an object that was about two and half feet long by one foot wide. It was covered by some sort of canvas or oilcloth, and as Nick pulled at it, the covering separated in his hands with a rotten ripping sound. His heart pounding in excitement, Nick gripped the canvas and pulled as much of it off as he could. In its decayed state, the canvas peeled off easily in Nick’s hands. Underneath was what looked to Nick like a small, ironbound, wooden chest. It had to be the strongbox!
So giddy he almost started hyperventilating, Nick dropped the shovel and began digging dog-like, with his bare hands around the still partially buried strongbox.
Moments later, the strongbox lay completely exposed. Taking the flashlight from the duffel bag, Nick shone it on the strong- box. The wood on the strongbox was dark and water stained.
A rusted metal hasp with a large antiquated padlock held the strongbox’s wooden lid shut, and equally rusting hinges were located on the back of the lid. What appeared to be moldy leather straps were screwed into the sides of the strongbox. Turning off the flashlight and tossing it back into the duffel bag, Nick bent over and grasped the leather handles and tried to pick up the strongbox. After a moment’s resistance, both handles broke off in Nick’s hands with a sodden tearing noise. Gingerly touching the wooden box with his hands, Nick discovered the wood was soft and spongy. He had to be careful, or the entire thing would fall apart in his hands! Digging with his hands again, he carefully excavated an area around the base of the strongbox. When he was finally satisfied, he gingerly placed his hands under it and gently lifted. The strongbox lifted easily in his hands and was not nearly as heavy as he had thought it would be. “Wasn’t gold supposed to be heavy?” he mused to himself. Fighting the impulse to shake the wooden strongbox to see what rattled around inside, Nick placed it softly on the ground at the top of the hole. Collapsing the shovel and placing it in the duffel bag, he pushed it to the side of the duffel bag before carefully picking up the strongbox and placing it in the duffel bag. As soon as the strongbox was placed in the duffel bag, a bright flare of light came from The Book of Lost Treasures Nick had laid on the ground next to the bag. Curiously, Nick opened the book, and there, under the map in large fiery letters, were the words, “Treasure Found!”
As Nick was sighing in relief, two things happened almost simultaneously. First, a bolt of lightning struck nearby, followed almost immediately by an earsplitting clap of thunder, and rain began coming down in blowing sheets. Second, even over the noise of the breaking storm, Nick heard the hysterical barking of the nearby dog reach new heights.
“What the hell are you barking at, you mangy critter?” Nick managed to hear, as a man’s voice shouted over the blowing wind and rain. “No one can get a wink of sleep with the racket you’re making!”
Frozen in consternation, Nick realized that the dog’s barking was getting closer. The dog’s owner must have untied it! That realization broke Nick’s paralysis, and he vaulted out of the hole. Grabbing the duffel bag’s straps, Nick stopped only long enough to make sure the book and strongbox were securely in the bag before he took off and sprinted across the field for his car. The rain was coming down so hard now that Nick could see only a few feet in front of him, even with the aid of the flashlight he had pulled from the duffel bag. A sudden flash of lightning revealed the barbwire fence a mere five or six feet from Nick, and as he tried to stop to prevent himself from running full tilt into it, his feet squirted out from under him on the muddy, slippery ground. Up in the air he went, landing with a wet plop on his back! Fortunately, the ground was soft from the rain, but even so, the jolting force of landing flat on his back knocked the breath out of him. As Nick lay there stunned, he heard the excited dog’s barking now very close by. If the volume of the dog’s barking was any indication, it had to be a large dog!
Fear forced Nick to roll onto his knees on the muddy ground. Trying to breathe, he cast about until he located his flashlight, which had rolled from his hand when he hit the ground.
Somehow, he had managed to hold on to the duffel bag, despite landing on his back. Desperately, he stood unsteadily on his feet and dropped the duffel bag on the other side of the barbwire fence. Pulling the barb wire apart, Nick attempted to push through the fence once again. However, this time, his shirt caught on one of the strands, and after a moment or two of trying to free it, he gave up, the fabric ripping as he frantically pulled it free. Picking up the duffel bag, he splashed through a ditch and onto the road, looking around wild-eyed in the darkness and pouring rain. Where was his car? He couldn’t see it! Standing in the middle of the dirt road in the pounding rain, he pointed the flashlight up and down the road trying to find his car. The rain was still coming down so hard, however, that the flashlight’s beam only penetrated a few feet into the darkness.
The barking howl of the dog once again galvanized Nick into action. It came from somewhere near the fence, so close that the dog would be on Nick in moments if he didn’t find his car!
Stumbling down the dirt road, Nick swept the beam of the flashlight back and forth in front of him, like a blind man would swing a cane. Suddenly, a flash of lightning revealed a dark object in front of Nick. It was his car! Running to it, he placed the duffel bag on top of the car and tried to open it. The door wouldn’t open! He had forgotten he had locked it! As Nick fumbled for the keys in his pocket, the frenzied barking of the dog now came from some- where in the blowing rain and darkness close by the road.
Ripping the keys from his pocket, Nick tried to locate the car key before the keys suddenly slipped from his rain-slick hands. Getting down on his hands and knees, he groped blindly on the muddy surface of the dirt road for the keys. Suddenly, another flash of lightning lit up the night sky and surrounding area, even as Nick’s fingers closed triumphantly on the keys. Looking up as he grasped the keys, the flash of lightning briefly revealed an image of his worst fears to him! A huge, black Mastiff was staring at him no less than fifty yards down the road. Moments later, the triumphant howl of the large dog echoed through the dark, rainy night.
His teeth chattering in fear, Nick practically danced a jig as he desperately tried key after key in the car’s lock. It was too dark to see, and he had shoved the flashlight in his pocket to fumble with the keys. He had only moments before the dog was upon him, and he could almost feel its teeth sinking into the soft flesh of his calf! Abruptly pulling the flashlight from his pocket, Nick shone it on the keys. There! There was the key! Almost sobbing in relief, he managed to get his shaking hands to push it in the lock.
Turning the key, he heard a click as the car door unlocked. Grabbing the duffel bag, Nick hurled it and the flashlight into the passenger seat. Slamming the door shut, he locked it and tried to get his wildly beating heart to slow down.
After a moment or two, Nick was able to breathe normally as he listened to the steady drumbeat of rain on the top of the car. Leaning forward, he was putting the key into the
ignition to start the car, when he felt the little car lurch as a thumping noise came from the car’s hood. Looking up, another flash of lightning revealed a nightmare image to him! Sharp white teeth from a pair of snarling jaws were mirrored in sharp relief on the other side of the windshield by the lightning flash! Nick shouted in terror at the sight. The dog had jumped onto the hood of Nick’s car and was barking and snapping its jaws madly at him!
After several frantic tries, Nick managed to start the car and, engaging the gear, rolled down the road. Still barking furiously, the dog jumped off the Sprint’s hood when it felt the car begin to move. Switching on the headlights, Nick began to drive down the road. Splashing through ruts and puddles, it wasn’t until he was safely on the solid black asphalt of the highway leading back to D’Lo that he began to breathe easier.
The giddiness that Nick had felt when he first uncovered the strongbox returned to him, as it replaced his rapidly ebbing fear. By the time he turned into the Poolside Motel parking lot, his excitement was again at full throttle. He had done it! He had used the map in the book and found Buckley’s gold!
His luck had finally changed!
Chapter 11
The rain was still coming down hard when Nick pulled into the Poolside Motel parking lot. He struggled out of the Sprint and went to the passenger-side door to open it and retrieve the duffel bag. Already thoroughly soaked, Nick paid the rain little heed. Fumbling around in his sodden pocket for the brass room key, Nick grabbed it and unlocked the door to his room. Entering his room, he turned on a light and kicked the door shut behind him. Placing the muddy, dripping duffel bag on the floor, Nick stripped off his wet clothes and tossed them on the bathroom floor. Standing in only a damp pair of boxer shorts, he grabbed a towel from the bathroom and attempted to dry off the best he could. Nick had left the air conditioner going full blast when he had left the room earlier to search for Efurd’s gold, and the cold air brought goose pimples to Nick’s wet skin. Nick had earlier emptied the duffel bag by dumping his clothes in it on the bed, and now he pawed through them with chattering teeth until he found an old T-shirt and sweat bottoms. Pulling them on, he immediately went to the duffel bag and dragged it over to where he sat on the edge of the bed.
The Treasure Hunt Club Page 7