 
CAVE OF DISCOVERY

Copyright 2007 by Steven & Margaret Larson

Cover Art Copyright 2007 by Betty Rieffer

Smashwords Edition

Published by Margaret Larson at Smashwords

Dedicated to John Michael - May you discovery the true treasures in life.

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold. Thank you for respecting the work of the authors.

Other books available by these authors

FANTASY BOOKS

Murky Manor

Worlds Within

The World Beyond the Door

A COLLECTION OF WRITINGS

Thoughts on the Wind

Available at: www.lulu.com/larsonworlds

Visit us at our web site www.home.earthlink.net/~larsonworlds

CONTENTS

Finders Keepers

The Hummer

A Dark and Stormy Night

Books, Bats, and Maps

A Meeting with Maneater

The Picture and the Poem

The Girl in the Cave

The Great Wagon Robbery

What's It Worth?

Another Strike It Rich Sundae

The Conquistador

A Monk's Journal

Lose the Dagger

Trapped

Keep the Change

Conspiracy Theories

Full Circle

CHAPTER 1 - FINDERS KEEPERS

Treasure," Jason said.

"Oh come on – treasure? You've been watching too many pirate movies," Daniel said.

"Then why is it called Treasure Town?"

"The only treasure in this town is the money the tourists spend. Forget looking for treasure. I'll race you to the boulder!"

"Are you crazy? It must be 100 degrees out here!" But Daniel had already sprinted out of sight. Jason stumbled through the underbrush into a clearing. After the dimness of the woods, the sunlight was blinding. He fumbled for his sunglasses. The relentless sun beat on his head, making the glasses slide down his sweating face.

A huge boulder loomed up in front of him. He heard Daniel call his name, but his voice seemed far away. The shade at the base of the boulder looked inviting, and he collapsed in a heap, feeling a small relief from the sun.

His hand landed on something cold and he jerked it back. Looking down, he picked up what looked like a huge quarter.

Gravel and dust cascaded down the rock, and several pebbles slid down his shirt. He looked up and saw Daniel's grinning face hovering over the edge.

"Knock it off," he said. He tried to wipe his neck, but it turned the dirt to mud. "Come down here. I've found something." He shrugged the loose debris out of his shirt as Daniel clambered down the rock to join him in the shade.

"What'd you find?" Daniel said. Jason wondered how Daniel always managed to stay so clean. He looked the same as when they left the hotel that morning and wasn't even sweating.

"It's the largest quarter I've ever seen," Jason said.

Daniel took the coin. "It's a Spanish Milled Dollar. We sell these in the gift shop."

"It's a stupid souvenir? How can you tell?"

"Easy. It says copy on it. Dad also puts his initials on the ones we make."

"Uncle Matt makes these things?"

"Yep. It was Mom's idea. You know how she's into genealogies. That's why she has me taking Spanish this summer. Her ancestors made the real Spanish Milled Dollars, and now we make the replicas. She calls it inflation. Dad says it pays for the classes."

Jason's eyes widened. "I read about people who make counterfeit coins," he said. "I think they're called coiners."

Daniel gave him a disgusted look. "They aren't counterfeit. That's why we mark them copy. They're souvenirs." He flipped the coin over and frowned.

Jason leaned toward him and said, "Where does it say copy?"

"That's funny. This one isn't marked."

"You mean it is counterfeit?"

"I mean it might be the real thing. Where did you find it?"

"Right where you're sitting." Jason's mind started racing. What would his parents say if he found a real treasure? If it was big enough, Dad could turn down the job transfer and they wouldn't have to move.

"Is it worth a lot?" he asked.

"Could be worth a hundred dollars. Let's show it to Bradley. He'll know if it's real and how much it's worth."

A hundred Jason thought, and the slim hope faded away. That wouldn't begin to replace his dad's job.

"Why was it lying out here?" Jason asked.

"Arrgh, I know not, matey." He leaned forward. "Perchance it's part of a buried treasure. How say you? Shall we seek to find the skeleton what's been set to guard the chest?"

"Okay, okay. If I stay out here much longer the sun will turn me into a skeleton."

Daniel grinned. "Come on. Let's go to the museum and talk to Bradley. It's air conditioned," he added.

"I'm in. Who's Bradley?"

"The Assistant Curator at the museum, and," he winked, "Katie's latest boyfriend."

"When does your sister have time to date? I thought all she did was study," Jason said as he struggled to his feet.

It was mid July and Jason hoped that August wasn't going to be even hotter. It had been different last year when Daniel made the trip north to spend the summer with him. They went swimming in the lake and hiking in the woods. In the cool evenings there were cookouts in the big backyard.

But that was all far away, and no one was there now. His parents were trying out the new job, and the house was closed up for the summer. If the job worked out, he'd be starting school in the fall in a big city far away from everything he knew. He was glad to be spending the summer with his cousins, even if it was hot.

They parked their bicycles in the rack at the museum. As they entered the building, he soaked up the welcome air conditioning. Daniel led the way down a hall passing a sign that read Employees Only.

"Are we going the right way?" Jason asked. He stopped and pointed to the sign, but Daniel wasn't paying attention. Jason had to run to catch up, and together they entered a long narrow room.

At the far end, an older man sat at a desk holding a piece of pottery as he thumbed through a book. He reminded Jason of his grade school principal.

They went up to the counter where a slim man peered through a magnifying glass at an ancient gold earring.

Daniel laid his head on the counter. Looking through the other side of the glass he said, "My what big eyes you have."

"What's on your mind, Danny?" he said without looking up.

He lifted his head and placed the coin on the counter. "Look what we found, Bradley."

Bradley took a deep breath and stretched. Pushing his glasses up, he rubbed his eyes. He picked up the coin. "You brought me a souvenir?"

"It's not marked copy and it's not one of Dad's."

"Is it real?" Jason asked.

Bradley grunted and flipped the coin over. Daniel shifted positions and said, "Well?"

"Is it real?" Jason asked again.

Bradley looked up with the hint of a smile. "You must be Jason," he said. His ruffled brown hair brushed the top of his wire rim glasses and spoiled what would have been a scholarly look. "Katie said you were here for the summer."

"What about the coin?" Daniel said.

"Oh, it's a real coin alright."

Daniel gave him a disgusted look.

Bradley grinned. "It's a real Spanish Milled Dollar. And a beauty too. They were very common currency around here until after the Civil War. Where'd you find it?"

Jason watched the older man get up and walk over to their side of the room. He stood in front of a wall that had built in wooden shelves with a few cabinet doors and rows and rows of drawers. Each one had an identification number. Jason wondered what secrets were concealed in each drawer. The man checked his notepad and scanned the labels.

When Jason turned back, he saw Bradley slip the earring off the glass and close his fingers around it, concealing it in his palm. Then he put a piece of pottery in its place.

He started to ask about the earring when he heard the soft sound of the drawers opening and closing behind him. He was sure they contained pieces of the past. Items stored away for study. Each one a slice of time captured and sealed in a drawer.

"We were out hiking by Prospect Point," Daniel said, interrupting his thoughts. "It was right by that big boulder that looks like a turtle. How much do you think the coin's worth?"

"It was made in Mexico City about 250 years ago," Bradley said. "It might be worth a couple hundred dollars if you found a buyer. Not bad for one coin. Course it wouldn't be a real treasure unless there was a whole kettle full of them."

Jason focused on the coin. "A kettle full?" he said. "Is that possible?"

"Not likely, but you never know. These coins were in circulation up till about 1870. May have been lost by some unfortunate prospector or trapper going through the area."

"Or part of the McPherson treasure," Daniel said.

"McPherson?" Jason said. Then he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. The man was running his hand down the bank of drawers. A gold onyx ring covered his finger and looked too heavy for his hand.

Bradley leaned forward and said in a loud whisper, "Maybe it's part of some other....undiscovered treasure."

Jason's eyes narrowed. "Is there such a thing?"

"Sure," Bradley said. "There's a book in the library that documents all kinds of treasure stories about this area. You guys should spend some time in the library. The book's called Treasure Town Treasures." He flipped the coin to Daniel. "Be careful when you're looking around. If you find any artifacts out there let me know. If they're to have any archeological significance – "

Daniel finished the sentence with him in a singsong voice, "It's important that I get to see them exactly as you find them." Daniel smiled. "I know. We'll call you."

As they were peddling home Jason said, "Who was the old man?"

"That's Victor Smith, the Curator. He's Bradley's boss."

Jason felt the coin in his pocket pressing against his leg. If there was any hidden treasure left in this town, he was going to look for it. But first he had to find out about McPherson.

CHAPTER 2 - THE HUMMER

The ringing jarred Jason awake and he fumbled for the phone. "Daylight in the swamp boys," the recording boomed. "Tumble out and come on down to breakfast."

He hung up the phone and looked at the clock. 6:00 a.m.? He fell back on his pillow and closed his eyes. His uncle and aunt ran the old historic Silver Lode Hotel, and the family lived in the group of rooms by the utility and storage areas. The recording was Uncle Matt's idea of a cheery wakeup call for the boys.

It was warm and humid. Daniel must have already shut off the air conditioning. They were only supposed to run it at night. At home he slept with the window open, and there was usually a cool morning breeze blowing in. But it didn't look like he would be spending another summer there.

As Daniel opened the bathroom door, steam flowed out making the already stuffy room more uncomfortable. Jason sat up and pulled himself out of bed. On his way to the shower he saw Daniel's clothes lying on the already neatly made bed. He glanced back at the crumpled sheets on his own bed. He hadn't even gotten his underwear out of the drawer yet, let alone decided what to wear.

After his shower he put on shorts and the first T-shirt he found. He picked up the Spanish Milled dollar.

"I don't want to carry this thing around all day," he said. "Where can I hide it?"

Daniel frowned in concentration as he scanned the room. "I know. We'll give it to Spidy." He opened the closet door and pulled down a plastic statue of Spiderman. "An old friend with a secret." He flipped it upside down and popped off the bottom revealing a cavity large enough to hold the coin. "It wasn't meant to be a secret compartment, but it works out pretty neat that way." He placed it back on the top shelf, and they went down to breakfast.

Jason was on his second bowl of cereal when Uncle Matt set his cup down with a thump. "How'd you boys like to join the tour of Haunted Cave today?"

"Haunted Cave?" Jason said.

Katie jumped up. "Oh, but Daddy, I wanted to go before anyone arrives and set up the lighting effects. I have some new ideas that I think will create just the right mood for your story."

Daniel took a breath, but before he could say anything she added, "It would look good on my college application." Her smile had an annoying sweetness.

Daniel slumped back in his chair and his breath came out in a "humph." The boys exchanged oh-be-real looks.

Matt frowned at them and said to his wife. "I suppose the boys could help out in the gift shop this morning."

Katie rushed to say, "Just 'til the Hummer gets in. The tour doesn't start till 11:00."

Jason felt his stomach tighten. He still remembered working the concession stand last year at summer camp. After his dismal failure at trying to work the cash register, he spent the rest of the week sweeping the floor. "Uh...you mean like waiting on customers?" Jason said.

"Yeah!" Daniel said. "It'll be great. We can handle it Dad."

Suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore.

Jason's feet felt heavy as he followed his cousin to the snack shop.

"It won't get too busy till lunchtime," Daniel said. He unlocked the door and flipped on the light. "Want to run the cash register or scoop ice cream?"

"Ice cream. It's cooler." With relief, Jason found himself standing behind the counter trying to read the flavors backwards. Anything was better than facing the electronic monster. He still remembered the camp cash register with its poisonous green display light. The cryptic keys that were a trap for his hesitant fingers. The incessant chirping until the drawer flew open like the maw of a ravenous animal, daring him to reach in and make change.

He looked at the clock. They'd been open for five minutes already. What was it Uncle Matt had said? They'd have to fill in until the Hummer arrived. What was a Hummer?

The bell over the door jingled, and for the next couple hours he scooped ice cream and handed out toasted bagels. He was doing okay, but Daniel was a natural. He smiled and chatted with the customers like they were long lost friends. It didn't take him long to sell out the Haunted Cave tour.

The crowd thinned out to one customer. A stout middle aged woman. As Jason handed her a bagel that was too crisp around the edges, the bell over the door jangled vigorously. A small woman swept into the room letting the door bang behind her. Straightening tables as she made her way to the ice cream counter she talked nonstop.

"Daniel! These tables are a mess! What's burning?" She stopped in front of the stout woman and eyed the bagel with a triumphant smile.

"My, that bagel is a bit crispy isn't it?" she said. "Let me take care of that for you." With a smooth motion she swept the bagel from the startled woman's hand, dropped it into the trash, and slipped a fresh one into the toaster. "Is the soda machine stocked with ice? Who's the new kid?"

Jason stared transfixed as she leaned over the ice cream bin. Her hair was cut short and fanned out from her head like a bird with its feathers ruffled.

"Looks like we're low on Rocky Road and Pistachio." The toaster popped up. She caught the perfectly toasted bagel, placed it on a plate, and handed it to the customer. "There you go my dear. No charge. Sorry for the wait."

Hands on her hips, she turned to Jason who hadn't moved since she walked in the store.

"He's my cousin, Jason," Daniel said. "He's staying with us for the summer."

She looked Jason up and down. Then she held out a thin bony hand. There was a slight crinkle around her piercing blue eyes. "Pleased to meet you Jason," she said.

Her grip was like steel making him wince as she squeezed his hand. "First, the burnt bagels," she said marching past him. She called without looking back, "Coming?"

Daniel shrugged. With reluctance, Jason trudged after the small compact figure. After she showed him how to remove the burnt crumbs from the toaster, she proceeded to give him a tour of the small kitchen. In short choppy sentences she explained how everything worked. His brain was on overload and his head was spinning when he and Daniel left. He would never be able to remember anything she had told him.

"What did you think of the Hummer?" Daniel asked.

"What?" Jason said.

"Mrs. Edith Byrd. Dad started calling her the Hummer after she got her hair cut in that style. She never stops moving. Like a hummingbird. And," he said, "she's very territorial."

"Why didn't you warn me?" Jason said shaking his head.

He shrugged. "Mom said we were losing money before she came and whipped us into shape. Anyway, I think she likes you."

"Oh yeah, that's great," Jason said.

"Let's get our bikes and head to Haunted Cave. Come on or we'll be late."

CHAPTER 3 - A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT

The boys peddled up the narrow, winding road that led to the cave. It ended at a tiny parking area. Jason passed the empty tour bus and skid to a halt. As Daniel squeezed past him, the handlebars bumped together and he narrowly missed getting his fingers pinched.

A wooden sign tacked to a tree read, Haunted Cave. The arrow pointed to a boardwalk that disappeared into the trees. Voices drifted back from the tour group. Uncle Matt was explaining the geology of the area and how the cave was formed.

"Come on," Daniel said. "We can catch up. You haven't missed much. We can see Katie's new spectacular lighting effects. They better be good since her college is depending on them."

They joined the group as they were entering the cave. Daylight illuminated the path into the opening for several feet before it was shrouded in darkness. They tagged along at the end of the group and entered the main room of the cave. Matt jumped onto a large flat rock and looked out over the crowd. The wavering torch flame behind him made his enormous shadow dance and flicker on the walls.

"It was a dark and stormy night," Matt began in a low melodramatic voice. There were a few snickers in the crowd. "Actually," he continued, "it really was a dark and stormy night. There was no moonlight and no stars out. Peter McPherson was beginning to worry. His mule was tired and stumbling over stones in the path. Not a nice boardwalk like the one we used to come up here, but a rough and narrow trail. He was leading a second mule that was carrying his fortune."

Jason forgot about the crowd. He felt McPherson's tension and the dangers of the night closing in around him. Matt's voice became a soft undercurrent, weaving the story...

All day McPherson felt uneasy as if he were being watched. Now every crack and rustle made his already tense muscles jerk in response. His mule felt the tension and was stubborn about continuing on.

Then it started to rain. Soon he was soaked. The weight from his water logged shirt pulled at his arms making them ache. Flashes of lightening lit up the surroundings giving him brief momentary glimpses of the area. He thought he saw another rider, but wasn't sure. Another flash revealed a cave entrance. Without hesitation he urged his mule inside.

He brushed his wet hair out of his eyes and shivered from cold and fear. Was there another rider out there who was after his fortune? Would he find the opening to the cave? The smell of wet, steaming mules filled the air. He unloaded his supplies. As he lifted a bag of silver from the pack mule, he noticed a small pile of firewood and ashes from a previous campfire. He dropped the silver and crouched, ready for an attack. His stomach knotted, and his eyes searched the shadows for movement.

A loud crack of thunder made him cry out. The startled mules bolted back down the corridor knocking him over in their fear. Stabbing pain seared his leg as he was thrown against a sharp rock. He scrambled to his feet, and stumbled down the passageway after the mules. A curtain of water poured over the opening to the cave. He plunged through and was absorbed into the storm. When he whistled for the mules, the wind caught his breath and the noise was muffled by the howling blast. In despair he somehow found his way back into the cave.

The sound of trickling water came from somewhere farther back in the cavern. Water dripped from his clothes onto the bag of silver coins that lay at his feet.

He scanned the cave for a hiding place and spotted a stalagmite column in the shadows near the back wall. He dragged the bag over the rough floor and dropped it into a natural depression stirring up the odor of dust and wet burlap. The column made a good marker for the spot. He was breathing heavy by the time he finished covering it with loose rocks.

Then he built a fire. The smoke made him cough, but soon the dry wood caught the flame and the smoke disappeared as it drifted up to the high ceiling.

His leg throbbed with pain as he stripped off his wet clothing and wrapped himself in a wool blanket. Exhausted, he fell asleep.

A terrible noise of falling rocks woke him in the night. The fire had burned down to embers, and it was too dark for him to investigate. He drifted back into a fitful sleep. When he woke again, light from a full moon filtered into the cave through an opening in the roof.

He built up the fire and dressed in dry clothes. Taking one of the burning sticks for a torch, he made his way to the front of the cave. To his horror he stood staring at what had caused the earlier noise. The entrance had collapsed, and he was trapped.

He limped back to the main chamber and looked up to the opening in the roof. With grim determination he began to climb the wall. He was half way up when a cloud covered the moon and plunged the cave into darkness. Trembling, he sat down on the narrow ledge and waited.

He jerked, and realized he must have dozed off. Morning light now illuminated the room, and he saw that he was about fifteen feet above the cave floor. He trembled at the thought that he had climbed that wall in the darkness. Below he saw the pillar where the treasure was hidden. The sunlight shone on its porous material making it glow a golden color.

It was more dangerous to go down than continue on. Favoring his injured leg, he hobbled over a narrow outcrop with a sheer drop off. Then a path opened up and led to the opening. He climbed the rest of the way up and out.

A cool breeze was blowing, and it was a relief to breathe in the fresh air. The sky was clear and it was late morning. From his vantage point he could see for miles.

Below him an army of Union soldiers were making their way down the same path he had ridden through the woods the night before. He crouched down among the rocks hoping he had not been seen.

An army of Confederate soldiers was coming from the other direction. They would soon meet where the entrance to the cave used to be. Water from the torrential rains had caused mud to slide down the hill taking rocks, branches, and other debris with it. The entrance was now buried under a pile of rubble.

He looked to his right. To his surprise he saw his saddle mule. There was no way to climb back down into the cave to get his treasure, but he now had an opportunity to escape before the armies converged. Favoring his bruised leg he scrambled down the hill, caught the mule, and rode as fast as he dared away from the ensuing battle.

Matt paused, and a silence settled over the chamber. The torchlight flickered, and they heard the faint sound of dripping water deep in the cave. Jason would not have been surprised if McPherson himself had stepped out from the shadows. Then the crowd stirred, and a small child fussed. The spell was broken.

"Over the years," Matt said, "the debris hiding the entrance was washed away. Not too long after that, a local resident named Silas happened to come through the cave and found the treasure of silver dollars. He claims that McPherson's ghost showed him where the treasure was hidden." There were smiles and a few chuckles.

Matt walked over to the pillar and lifted out a bag. Pulling out a coin he held it up to the crowd.

"This is a replica of a Spanish Milled Dollar. These coins circulated in our country from Colonial times to about the end of the Civil War. The treasure Silas found was a large bag of these coins."

Katie turned on electric torches that were hung on the walls. The chamber and the passageway leading outside were lit up with flickering lights.

"That's the end of the tour folks, but everyone gets a replica coin. Don't forget to stop by the gift shop where you can purchase a pendant or key chain to hold your souvenir."

As Matt was handing out the coins to the tour group, Jason heard a rustling noise behind him. He saw a small boy rolling up a parchment and walking toward the cave entrance. From under a straw hat, fine blonde hair trailed down the back of his neck. His bare feet made no noise. The boy turned, and their eyes met. Then the boy looked past him and saw the tour group. His face turned white, and with a gasp he ran toward the cave entrance.

"Daniel," Jason said as he pulled on his arm. "A strange boy just ran out of the cave."

"What?"

"Come on," Jason said, and dashed toward the entrance. But when they got outside there was no one there. Jason stood looking around puzzled. "He disappeared."

"Who are we looking for?" Daniel asked.

"The boy in the bib overalls."

"Bib overalls?" Daniel shook his head. "I'm sure his parents will come looking for him."

"He wasn't part of the group."

"How do you know?"

"He was wearing a straw hat, no shoes, and a long sleeve flannel shirt..."

"Flannel shirt? In this heat?"

"Yeah, strange...and he was rolling up a large parchment that looked like a pirate map."

"You mean a treasure map? I think the heat's getting to you. People who aren't used to the heat sometimes see things you know."

"I'm not seeing things," Jason mumbled.

People from the tour group filed out of the cave as they talked and examined their coins on the way back to the bus.

As Matt walked by he said, "See you back at the Silver Lode. Don't be late for dinner. You know how your mom fusses when we're not all there on time."

CHAPTER 4 - BOOKS, BATS, AND MAPS

Daniel had already fallen asleep. Jason lay in bed in the dark room thinking. He wished he were home in the woods behind his house. If he tried real hard he could imagine that the drone of the air conditioner sounded like wind rustling through the trees.

At the edge of the woods was an old maple. He clambered up the trunk and wedged himself into a space between the branches. Leaning back against the rough bark, he could feel life flowing through the tree as the trunk shifted and swayed in the breeze.

When Daniel spent the summer with him they explored the woods and discovered the remains of an old tree house. They transformed the ruins into the deck of a pirate ship and fought battles with imagined enemies. When they weren't pretending to be at sea, the thick branches and dense leaves of the nearby trees provided camouflage for their hideout.

They hadn't really been hiding though. Not like McPherson, who thought someone was stalking him. Someone tracking him down to steal his fortune. Jason opened his eyes. Only the red light of the smoke detector was visible. It glowed in the ceiling like the planet Mars in a dark sky. Had someone really been after McPherson that night, or was it just his imagination?

Either way, he lost the treasure in the cave and narrowly escaped being part of a battle. Jason clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut. If he found a treasure he'd make sure he didn't lose it. But all he had found so far was one coin.

He wondered how the battle between the two armies had turned out. His eyes popped open. The coin could have been part of a shipment the army was transporting. Or maybe a soldier lost it when he climbed up on the boulder for a look around. It had been lying there all these years. Waiting to be found. He rolled over. Daniel was right. He'd been watching too many movies.

As he fell asleep, he dreamed about the tree house. He was digging a hole under the tree. But no matter how much dirt he took out of the hole, it never got any deeper. He knew that if he dug just a little further he would uncover a kettle filled with silver coins. His shovel hit something hard making a ringing sound. He pulled it out of the dirt, but the ringing kept getting louder. Then it stopped, and someone was shaking him and calling his name. He opened his eyes to see Daniel standing over him.

"Wake up sleepyhead. It's morning."

"I was dreaming," Jason mumbled.

"Must have been some dream. What was it about?"

"Buried treasure by the tree house."

"That wasn't treasure we buried. That was a box of rocks from the creek."

Jason laughed. "I know. I guess I was thinking about McPherson and the treasure Silas found."

"Well if you want to search for real treasure you'll have to stop dreaming and check out something really scary. The library. Let's go look for that book Bradley suggested."

An hour later they parked their bicycles.

"No cars or bikes allowed on Treasure Avenue," Daniel said.

"Why's that?" Jason asked.

"This is where they do the reenactments of the Goldwater Mine robbery. We'll come back to watch the next show."

Treasure Avenue was not like Main Street at home. Here the streetlights were topped with pans like the ones used for panning for gold. Gift shops, art galleries, restaurants, and souvenir stands lined the street.

He glanced in the window of a gift shop where a young girl dressed in traditional Indian regalia was arranging moccasins. Their eyes met and she flashed him a smile.

The smell of chocolate swept over him as they passed the open doorway of the Sweet Prospects Candy Shop. A picture of a miner eating fudge grinned down at them from the sign over the door.

They stopped in front of a three story wooden building. Elaborate scrollwork topped the tall double doors. Faded gold ornamental lettering spelled out Ophelia's Opera House. The traditional masks representing comedy and tragedy were carved into the wood on either side of the doors. He ran his finger over the mask. It too had once been painted, but now it was chipped and faded. Just an illusion of gold.

"How far to the library?"

Daniel laughed and pointed to a sign in the window. In plain black letters it read Library.

"The story is that the town couldn't make the opera house profitable, so they turned it into a library. Didn't want to give up on trying to instill some culture in the town."

Jason made a face as he opened the door. "Mom dragged me to an opera once."

Inside there was a display table labeled Local Treasures. It had books about hiking in the area, historic sights, regional cooking, a restaurant and hotel guide, but nothing about real treasure. Jason was thinking it must be in another section. Then Daniel picked up a book and wrinkled his nose.

"Try this," he said holding it out between one finger and thumb at arm's length.

Jason took the book and Daniel wiped his fingers on his pants. The cover was stained and worn and it had a musty smell. "I'll check it out on my card," Daniel said, "but you'll have to carry it."

"Don't suppose they have another copy," Jason said as he followed Daniel to the check out.

When they got back to the Silver Lode, Katie and Aunt Rosalita were pouring over college brochures. As Jason ate a plain bologna sandwich, he watched Daniel make one of his creations. First he spread the peanut butter. Then he arranged neat rows of potato chips on one side and cucumber slices on the other. He was putting the two halves together when they heard loud voices and squealing from upstairs.

Rosalita looked up. "Maybe you guys could go check that out."

With exaggerated care, Daniel set down his sandwich. Together they raced up the stairs. As they careened around the corner they collided with the maid and her cleaning cart. Towels and soap packets spilled across the hallway. "Murciélago, Murciélago," she cried as she squeezed past the upset cart and clattered down the stairs.

"What did she say?" Jason asked as he dodged around the cart.

"Bat," Daniel called over his shoulder. "This way."

They ran down the hallway to an open door. A woman was plastered to the outside wall with her hands over her head. "Get it out! Get it out!" she wailed.

Holding his breath and taking cautious steps, Jason looked through the doorway. He spotted the bat sitting on the antique Spanish dresser.

"There it is!" he shouted and waved his arm. The movement startled the bat, and it flew into the bathroom. He leaped over a suitcase, and flung a pillow back on the bed. "Open the window," he said.

He was in time to see the bat slip through a crack in the wall. "Hurry up. Come in here," he called.

"That's an old access panel to the plumbing," Daniel said. "If it goes in there very far, we'll never get it out."

Jason pulled on the access panel door. It stuck. He gave it a hard tug. There was a rasping noise, and the door popped off. He lost his balance. With a cry of alarm, he staggered a few feet and tripped over the suitcase. The door landed on his foot, and he yelled as he crashed into Daniel. They both fell in a heap on the floor. The bat fluttered over their heads and out the open window.

Daniel groaned. "Get off my leg."

Jason winced with pain as he moved his foot. They both struggled to their feet.

"Well, the bat's gone," Jason said. He picked up the door and limped over to the wall. As he started to replace the panel he saw something inside.

"Hey, look at this." He pulled out a rolled up paper. Daniel peered over his shoulder as he opened it.

"Looks like an old map," Daniel said. They heard voices in the hall. "Roll it up and let's get out of here." He grabbed the panel and shoved it back in place. Jason shut the window as the woman guest came back into the room.

"All taken care of ma'am. Sorry for the trouble," Daniel said as Jason squeezed past. "I'm sure Mom will give you complimentary passes for the Haunted Cave Tour."

"That's all I need. A whole cave full of bats! No thank you."

They went downstairs. Rosalita looked up. "Crisis averted?"

Daniel's grin was smug. "Yep. Just a bat. We opened the window and stepped back. The poor little thing was so grateful it fluttered out the window. No problem at all. Probably headed back for Haunted Cave."

She laughed. "Sure was a lot of commotion for something so simple."

"That was because Jason tripped over the suitcase."

Jason grinned. "It was my first bat rescue."

"We found a map in the wall," Daniel said. Jason held it up.

"A map. How interesting," Katie said. She didn't look up from the brochures. "This is the one with emphasis on Shakespeare." She pushed a glossy flyer in front of her mother.

Rosalita winked at the boys. "Why don't you show the map to your dad? He's in his workroom." She picked up the brochure.

Daniel grabbed his sandwich and ate it as he led the way behind the hotel to a small brick building. "This is where Dad makes his stuff for the gift shop."

The room smelled of wood shavings and damp earth. Jason wandered over to a lathe. A half-cut block of wood was clamped in the chuck waiting to be finished. Small statues of soldiers filled an overhead shelf. "Wow," he said. "It's a whole army!"

"They're conquistadors," Daniel said. "Mom's ancestors. Though not exactly the kind you want in your history. They're a lot like pirates."

"Pirates are good. I don't have anything interesting like that in my history." He followed Daniel across the room leaving footprints in the sawdust.

Daniel pointed to a heavy piece of equipment on a workbench. "Dad's coin press," he said. He picked up a blank coin. "We get these from a metal company. It goes here," he set it on an engraved die in the machine. "Then this part comes down with tremendous force and presses the image on the blank and – presto, we have a Spanish Milled Dollar." He handed him a finished coin from a stack and pointed. "See – it says copy, and those are Dad's initials."

Jason put the coin down and followed him through the doorway. It was damp and cool in the backroom. Pottery and stoneware sat drying on shelves. Matt cradled a lump of clay as it spun on a potter's wheel. He put his thumb into the clay and began pulling it out and upward. Jason watched fascinated as a bowl took shape. The wheel slowed, and Matt looked up. "What's up boys?"

Daniel held up the roll. "We found a map hidden in the wall in room 29."

"And what were you doing in room 29?" Matt asked.

"Chasing out a bat. It got into an old access panel in the bathroom. When we took off the panel we found the map."

Matt wiped his hands on a rag and said, "Let's take a look."

He unrolled the map on the workbench and weighed down the corners with stacks of coins. The paper was yellow with age, and several spots had been scorched by fire.

"This looks like a map to Haunted Cave," Matt said.

"How do you know it's real and not a souvenir copy?" Jason asked.

"I'm pretty sure this one is old. You can tell by the feel of the paper and the kind of ink."

"Why would someone hide it in the Silver Lode?" Daniel asked.

"May have belonged to Silas. He used to own the Silver Lode you know. Might even be his treasure map," Matt said.

"Silas? The one who found the treasure?" Jason asked. Matt nodded.

"He's a scary old hermit," Daniel said. "The kids at school say he's crazy."

"Crazy or not," Matt said, "we don't speak about him that way. Why don't you pay him a visit and ask him about it? He used to talk about a map."

"You want me to go to his house and talk to him?" Daniel said.

"He's harmless," Matt said. "It would be good for you."

"You really want me to talk to Silas?" Daniel said.

"It's probably his map. Seems like a good place to get some information, but suit yourself." He turned and went in the back room. They heard the whir of the wheel start up.

Jason said, "If we go see this Silas, do you think he'll want the map back? I mean, if it's his treasure map..."

"I'm telling you this guy is scary."

"Your dad thinks he's okay. Come on Daniel. How bad can he be? If this is a treasure map, we're holding the key to a fortune. How else will we know?"

Daniel picked up several blank coins. "I don't think there are any more treasures. It's all made up stuff for tourists. Just like these coins." He placed them one by one in a neat stack on the bench.

The door to the workshop opened, and Bradley stood in the doorway. Behind him the sky was clouding over.

"Katie's up at the Silver Lode," Daniel said.

"I know, I was just up there. Matt told me to stop by sometime for a tour around his workshop. I think it's going to rain, and it seemed like a good time to take him up on his offer."

"Are you going to learn how to make pottery?" Daniel said.

"Well, of course I would like to, but my interest in pottery is in the methods the Native Americans used. The pieces your dad makes on the wheel are more European. But I can learn a lot of useful things from him."

The light from the window faded as the sky outside darkened. He looked down at the coin press and his cap shadowed his face. It had Turtle Island Gifts written on the brim.

"Today I was hoping to find out about how he makes his coins," Bradley said. His raised his head. A lightening flash lit up the room revealing a slight smile. "Is he here?"

"In the back," Daniel said. He turned to Jason. "If we hurry we can beat the rain."

They dashed to the hotel and bolted through the door. With a crash of thunder, the rain started. It poured down in sheets and beat against the building. In their room the noise of the rain against the windows was a dull roar.

Daniel grinned. "Looks like we can't see Silas today."

"It won't be raining like this tomorrow," Jason said as he put the map in the closet. "I'll do all the talking. All you have to do is come with me."

Daniel stared out the window as the water streamed down the glass. It was dark outside and his distorted reflection looked back at him like a ghost peering in through the rain.

"Okay. We'll go tomorrow after I get out of class. You do the talking. And just in case it is a treasure map – we leave it here."

CHAPTER 5 - A MEETING WITH MANEATER

The paved road became gravel as the boys turned onto Pickax Lane.

"Are you sure Silas lives up this road?" Jason asked.

Their bicycles bogged down in the gravel. Jason stood up to peddle as he struggled against the pull on the tires. He hoped it wasn't too far. The afternoon had become muggy, and the morning breeze had disappeared.

As they came around a curve, he saw a one-story brick house set back from the road. The wrought iron fence around the yard made it look like a park. Small islands of flowers in a dazzling array of colors surrounded manicured bushes. The ancient pickup truck parked in the driveway looked out of place. Its red paint had faded to the color of tomato soup and rust spots abounded. He was puzzled by the weathered bumper sticker that read I Like Ike.

They stopped and faced the iron gate. A flat piece of copper cut out in the shape of a miner with a pickax over his shoulder was welded to the bars. One hand reached out and grasped the gatepost forming the latch. The weathered copper had developed a green patina making the hand look moldy.

Jason swallowed and said, "This is it?"

Daniel said, "Still want to go in?"

Jason wasn't sure this was such a good idea anymore, but he nodded and reached for the green hand.

"Wait...," Daniel said.

But Jason had already pulled up the hand and released the gate. From the house came a loud "Caw! Caw! Caw!" An enormous black dog came bounding around the side of the house. Snarling and barking it raced toward the fence.

Jason watched in terror as it snaked along the ground. Saliva dripped from its fangs as it barred its teeth. A few feet from the fence it launched itself.

"Look out!" Daniel shouted as he grabbed the gate and yanked it closed. He crashed into Jason as he tried to get away from the fence. With a yell and a loud clatter they fell to the ground knocking over the bicycles. From the tangled heap, Jason looked up into the dog's fierce eyes as it leaned over the fence growling at them.

"Maneater!" he heard a voice bellow. The dog barred its teeth. "Maneater, come here." The dog gave a snort and one last woof before trotting back to the house. Jason sat up and brushed off his jeans. His hands were shaking as he helped Daniel untangle the bikes. They looked over the fence and saw an old man on the porch. The dog sat at his side and glared at the gate. The man bent forward and squinted at them.

"That you Daniel?"

"Yes sir," Daniel said.

"Well, come on in." He turned and went back in the house. The dog didn't move.

Jason looked at Daniel. "Now what?" he asked.

"Maneater," said the muffled voice from inside the house. "Leave the boys alone."

The dog lay down on the porch and rested its head on its paws. Jason took a deep breath and opened the gate. Again they heard the "Caw! Caw! Caw!" The dog lifted its head.

Keeping a wary eye on it, Jason took a timid step inside and slowly crept up the path. Time seemed to stop between one step and the next. The muscles in his back twitched, and his legs felt like jelly. He glanced back, comforted that Daniel was following and the gate was still ajar.

He reached the house and put a trembling foot on the bottom step. The dog snorted. It trotted to the other end of the wrap around porch and disappeared around the side of the house.

They hurried up the steps past a carved, wooden raven attached to a speaker, and dashed inside. Jason pulled the door shut. Some of the tenseness left his muscles now that there was a barrier between them and the dog.

They were in a small entryway attached to the living room. The smell of freshly brewed coffee blended with the stale odor of fried bacon and made his stomach queasy. A plate on the kitchen table still held the remains of breakfast. He heard muttering and turned to see Silas pulling a blanket off the sofa in the living room. His head was bald on top. A fringe of white wispy hair floated over his ears and touched the collar of his silk shirt.

"Dog hair," he said. "Maneater sheds something awful. Hope there's no burrs on the sofa. He gets them in his coat when chasing varmits, and I can't always see them nowadays."

He looked up and his eyes met Jason's. The blanket slipped unnoticed from his fingers and slithered into a heap on the floor. He frowned. "You from around here? You look familiar."

Jason slowly shook his head. Suddenly he felt cold and clammy. There was something uncanny about Silas. Maybe Daniel was right about him.

"He's my cousin," Daniel said. "Probably a family resemblance."

Silas grunted. "Have a seat," he said. He collapsed into the recliner and picked up his coffee mug. The blanket lay forgotten on the floor. He studied Jason over the top of his mug as he took a long noisy drink. The boys sat rigid on the edge of the sofa.

"Now boys. What brings you way out here?"

Jason felt silence settle down over the room like a dark cloud. He knew it was up to him to do the talking. He had promised. But he couldn't think of anything to say. His throat felt tight. Then almost as if someone else had control of his voice he croaked out, "Treasure."

Silas burst into a cackle that made Jason's flesh crawl. "Treasure is it?" Silas said. "What kind of treasure?"

"Well, your treasure. I – I heard you found a treasure. And – I thought – well, I wanted to hear about it from you," Jason said.

Silas grinned revealing a gold capped tooth. "Ain't been on the Haunted Cave tour yet, eh?"

"I went on the tour," Jason said. "But how did you know where to find the treasure? How did you find it when no one else could?"

"Took me twenty years to find that bag of silver. I was a lad a bit younger than you when a stranger came through town. My Pappy owned the Silver Lode and we lived there – same as Daniel and his family do now. Back then it was called the Prospect Inn. I changed the name after I found the treasure."

"Who was the stranger?" Jason asked.

"His name was...let's see...Jim. Yes, Jim Bentley. Well, Jim stayed with us, and he had a map with him."

Jason leaned forward, his eyes bright. "A treasure map?"

"A copy of one. Said he was gonna get rich. It led him to the cave alright." Silas chuckled. "But he came back from the cave and threw the map in the fire. Said he'd had it with treasure hunting and was never going back to that haunted place."

"Haunted?" Jason said. "What do you mean, haunted?"

Silas whispered, "Saw McPherson's ghost, he did." Then he nodded and collapsed back in the chair, wheezing.

"McPherson? Isn't he the one who hid the treasure?" Jason said.

"Yep. Got rich out west, but I guess he didn't want just anyone finding his treasure back here. So after he died, he sorta moved into that cave of his. To keep watch."

"Have you seen the ghost?"

His eyes narrowed and glinted as he studied Jason. "Sure have. Him and others." A sinister smile curled at the side of his mouth. "And if you're there in the moonlight, you'll meet them too."

Jason squirmed in his seat. Daniel gave him an I-told-you-so poke.

"So, the map burned up?" Jason said.

"Oh no lad. It was early spring and Pappy had a fire going, but the day was warm. The fire had burned low and was banked for the evening. Of course the coals was hot, and the old map started to burn right away. I was a spry young lad then with my head full of treasure tales. Well I jumped right up and grabbed that map from the fire while Jim was busy talking to my Pappy."

Silas paused. His eyes were unfocused and he seemed to have forgotten they were there. When he spoke, his voice was soft as if he were talking to himself.

"It was the strangest thing," he said. "That old map was on fire and I slapped it out with my bare hands." He held up his hands showing them his palms. "And wouldn't you know? Not a burn did I take from puttin' out that fire."

"Was it damaged too bad for you to read?"

"Not for me, lad. That map led me straight to Haunted Cave. Right outside the entrance I found this here dollar." He tapped his belt buckle where a Spanish Milled Dollar was encased.

"I was sure there was more treasure in that cave. I searched it from top to bottom and nary found another thing. Leastways I didn't find no treasure. Heard a lot of voices and saw some strange things." He looked hard at Jason before continuing.

"One night I was there when the full moon was shinning into that cave. It lit up that pillar till it looked like it was made out of silver itself. For years, I figured that was all the treasure there was. Just a pillar full of moonshine."

"So what happened to the map?"

"Can't rightly remember. Didn't matter though. I'd looked at it so many times I had it memorized. All safely right here," he said, and he tapped his head.

Jason wasn't sure how safe Silas' memory was. He wondered about the strange things inside the old man's head.

"But you did find the treasure," Jason said.

"Reckon I did. I was out chasing my dog. He wasn't a good mannered dog like Maneater. When that old dog got something in his head, twern't nothing gonna get it out. He woke me up in the middle of the night with his barking and carrying on. Led me through the woods a hollering and shouting after him. Then we came up on Haunted Cave and that mean old dog went in. I didn't want to go in there in the middle of the night I can tell you."

Jason squirmed. It was hot in the room, and the clock's ticking vibrated in his head.

"The moon was full and the wind was blowing the clouds till they was a scooting across the sky. I called that dog, but he weren't listenin'. I went up to the entrance and looked in. That's when that crazy old dog came tearing out so fast he almost knocked me over. Then I saw a light."

"In the cave?" Daniel said.

He nodded. "It was real dark where I was standing, but I could see there was an oil lamp burning farther in."

"Someone else was there?" Jason said.

"I figured I'd find out. So I crept real quiet like and stayed in the shadow. There was McPherson unloading his mule. He dropped a heavy bag to the ground and reached for a second one. I leaned forward to see what he was doing and it set loose a shower of pebbles. He dropped the second bag and crouched as he looked my way."

"Did he see you?" Jason said.

"I couldn't tell, but I was right scared. I was chiding myself for not being more careful and wondering if a ghost could do me harm. Then there was a loud crack of thunder, and the mules charged straight for me. I forgot all about McPherson. I started to run, and tripped in the dark. I expected to be trampled, but suddenly it got real quiet. When I opened my eyes, the oil lamp was gone and moonlight filled the cave."

"What happened to McPherson and the mules?" Jason said. He was beginning to think that Silas was making the whole thing up to see how gullible they were.

Silas shrugged. "I reckon they was ghost mules like McPherson himself."

"Ghosts?" Jason said.

Silas narrowed his eyes. "Wasn't the only ghosts I've seen in that haunted place. Then the moonlight faded out and the oil lamp was back. I shrank into the shadows."

"Who did you think you saw that time?" Daniel said. Jason elbowed him.

"Didn't think – I knew who it was," Silas said. "It was McPherson of course. He had his back to me and was dragging one of the bags across the floor. He dumped it by a pillar, and covered it with some rocks. Then he picked up the other bag. There was another crack of thunder, and the oil lamp went out. It was dark and quiet. I found my way out by following the flashes of lightening. When I got to the cave entrance it was raining."

"What about your dog?"

"Durndest thing. Never did see that dog again. But it seemed like a fair enough trade. The dog for the treasure, you know. Went back the next day and found the treasure right where I saw McPherson bury it. Now what do you think of that?"

Jason heard a soft clicking coming down the hall. Maneater loomed in the doorway. His stomach tightened. The dog's nails tapping on the hardwood floor continued as it crossed the room and sat down a few inches from him.

"Um – Mr. Silas, sir?" Jason said.

"Seems you have his seat youngun," Silas said and then broke into his rasping cackle.

The dog laid its head on Jason's knee and looked up at him. One lip was pulled back showing a sharp fang.

"Dad gives tours of the cave all the time and he's never seen a ghost," Daniel said. "Maybe McPherson left after you found the treasure."

Silas scowled and his face turned a little red. "You can think what you want. It's not everyone that sees 'em. Old Jim Bentley, he saw McPherson right enough. Told about how he saw him unpacking his gold."

Jason forgot about Maneater. "Gold?" he said. He sat up and shifted his weight. Maneater growled and he stiffened. The dog's saliva seeped through his jeans and the fang poked his knee.

Silas wheezed. "Yep, gold. You see I found the silver treasure, but some think there's another cave called Eagle Cave and that's where McPherson hid the gold. But he ain't likely to let anyone find it."

Jason tingled with excitement. "Did you see the gold?"

The old man took another gulp of coffee. "Saw McPherson myself unpack two bags off that old mule. One was silver. I figure the other was gold."

Maneater sat up and barked.

Daniel stood up. "I think maybe we should be going."

Jason's legs were stiff as he stood and inched his way to the door. He looked back and found Silas staring hard at him.

"Maybe you'll meet McPherson and he'll take a liking to you," Silas said. "He might even show you where he hid the gold."

"Thanks for talking to us, sir," Jason said as they opened the front door and stepped outside. The last thing he wanted was to meet a ghost.

As soon as the door was closed they bolted down the path. Maneater came tearing around the side of the house and lunged at the gate, crashing it closed behind them. Leaning over the fence, it barred its teeth and woofed at them as they got on their bicycles. The barking continued until they were on the main road.

CHAPTER 6 - THE PICTURE AND THE POEM

Jason opened the library book and wrinkled his nose as a stale, damp odor rose from the pages. A small boy stared out at him from an old black and white photograph. His light colored hair showed a faint crease from wearing the straw hat that he now held in his hand. Even the baggy bib overalls couldn't hide the fact that his shirt was too big for his small frame. The pant legs trailed down past his ankles, but the frayed edges didn't quite hide his bare toes. His grin revealed a missing tooth on the right side.

The caption read, Silas at ten years old in front of his family's hotel, the Prospect Inn, now known as the Silver Lode.

Jason rubbed his eyes and glanced over at the other bed. Daniel had on his headset and was mumbling to himself as he listened to his Spanish lesson.

With a yawn he turned back to the book. He flipped several pages and came to a letter. Part of it was missing and it was written in a tight, cramped script. He was going to skip over it, when he noticed it was written by McPherson.

My time is short. My health is failing and wealth no longer holds an interest for me. I have no desire, nor in truth am I able, to seek for that which I hid so long ago on that dreadful night. I was forced to abandon my fortune and most of my other possessions to escape being caught up in the impending battle, and in a war that I sought to avoid. Although I lost everything that night, I escaped alive and made my way west to a new life.

As soon as it was convenient, I sketched a map from memory of where I had hidden my treasure and the price of my farm. It was my plan to return and claim my own once the conflicts had ended and the way was available to me.

It was not long after my arrival in the territory that I discovered a great mineral wealth beneath my feet. I would have been ill advised to leave at that time, and in the ensuing years I made an even greater fortune than that which I had left behind.

But now I find that I will soon have no further need of monies. I am sending you a map of where I hid the treasure that was found on my farm. It may well be that you have a greater claim to this treasure than I. Perhaps this map will lead you to that fortune. I know not if my memory served me well or if Eagle Cave still exists or can be found. Faithfully yours, Peter McPherson.

On the next page was a picture of the map. He gasped. It was almost the same as the one they had found, but this one had faint handwriting in the margin and was labeled Original McPherson Map.

The text went on to say that McPherson sent the map to his grandmother's family on the Cherokee reservation. A government agent saw the map and drew a copy from memory. That copy was eventually found by Jim Bentley and was last known to be in the possession of Silas, but has long since disappeared. The original map was placed on display in the Treasure Town Library.

Jason held the picture closer to the light, but still couldn't read the writing in the margin. He climbed out of bed and got the map from the closet. It rustled as he unrolled it on the bed. There was no margin writing on his copy.

He looked up to see Daniel staring at him. His CD player was on the nightstand with the headset cord wrapped in a precise coil beside it.

"What are you doing?" Daniel said.

"We were right. This map belonged to Silas. It's the one Jim Bentley threw in the fire. But it's not the original treasure map. It's a copy. There's a picture of McPherson's original map in this book."

"Yeah?"

"Well, the original one has some writing on it."

"What's it say?"

"I can't read it. It's too faint and it's fancy, squiggly handwriting."

"Go to sleep Jason." Daniel put his Spanish book next to the CD player and turned out his light.

"No wait. The book says the original is on display in the library."

"Which tells you that if there were any clues on it, someone else would have figured it out by now." He raised his eyebrows and said, "Right?"

"No, that can't be right. Maybe they just haven't figured them out. We need to look at the original and see what the writing says." He rolled up the map. "Maybe it tells us where the gold treasure is hidden. I'm sure there's another treasure. Silas as much as said so."

Daniel turned his back. "I'm going to sleep."

"Okay, okay." He flipped the switch and pulled the sheet over him. "There's still a treasure out there waiting to be found," he said into the dark. "I can feel it."

Daniel's voice was muffled. "All I can feel is my pillow."

"A gold treasure. I'm sure of it."

"um hmm"

"I think there might be another cave."

"Good-ni-ght."

A narrow crack in the curtains let a thin stream of light into the dark room. It reflected off the chrome bedpost like moonlight shinning on the pillar in the cave. It was a long time before he fell asleep.

Jason was jolted awake by the ringing phone. He reached for it expecting Uncle Matt's wakeup call. Instead he heard his mom's voice.

She asked how he was doing, and he told her about finding the coin. They talked about the haunted cave and working in the snack shop. She laughed at his description of Silas, but was concerned about the dog.

A silence settled over the conversation and then she said, "Your dad is settling in at the new job and it's going okay for him." Jason's stomach tightened. "I'm working for a temporary agency this summer, but I've accepted a staff position at the community college starting this fall."

"That's great Mom." Jason tried to sound cheerful.

"We're looking at a house on the outskirts of the city with a big yard. There are several nice parks nearby. On the way to work your dad drives through a wooded area with lots of oak trees. He says there are some great nature walks there." Her voice was hopeful.

"Sure Mom. That sounds nice."

"There's lots to do here with your friends. Ballgames, a museum, even an I-Max theatre."

What friends, he thought. All my friends are back home.

"There's plenty of history around here too," she continued. "The school will take you on great field trips."

They talked about the weather and she asked how everyone there was doing. Then she promised to call soon and hung up.

Daniel stuck his head around the corner. "Bathroom's yours. Get your shower in, and we'll go see if we can find your treasure map at the library. We can go exploring until it opens. If you hurry we can even have breakfast."

Jason pushed the phone call out of his mind and headed for the shower.

The day had already tuned hot by the time they arrived at the library. The cool air inside felt good, but the faint musty odor of old books tickled his nose. They circled around the Local Treasures table looking for the old map. Jason shrugged.

"Let's try in the back," Daniel whispered. He led the way down a long narrow hall. Doors opened on either side leading to small reading rooms. They found the map on the wall in the last one. It was framed and under glass.

Daniel started to go in, but Jason caught his arm. Placing a finger over his lips, he jerked his thumb at the other side of the room. An elderly man sat hunched over a table with his back to them. The yellowed newspaper in front of him absorbed his attention. An alcove above him held the breastplate armor and helmet of a conquistador.

Placing each foot with exaggerated care and stifling laughter, they made their way into the room. Paper crackled as the man turned a page.

Simple stick figures of people and animals were carved into the dark mahogany wood that framed the map. Jason hunched his shoulders against the cold air that trickled down his neck from an overhead vent.

Nudging Daniel, he pointed to the handwriting on the side of the map. A shadow flickered across the glass and he saw a reflection of the conquistador armor. The reflection wavered, and a face materialized under the helmet. Dark eyes stared at him. He sucked in his breath.

"You can buy a copy of that map in the gift shop," the reflection said.

He spun around. The chair was empty, and the elderly man now stood before them. It was the curator, Victor Smith. The conquistador helmet was still in the alcove behind him and Jason realized it had been an illusion.

"They sell copies in the museum gift store," he repeated. "It's a favorite item for tourists. Are you interested in the history of the area? Or – maybe you're looking for treasure." A slow smile curled on one side of his mouth. His eyes bored into Jason as if he wanted to read his mind. "This is Treasure Town. Looking for treasure is a favorite pastime for some. As the museum curator, I get a lot of questions about treasure. I don't believe we've met. My name's Victor Smith."

Jason was held captive by those dark eyes. His throat felt dry and he couldn't speak. Smith said, "And your name is?"

"Jason," he managed to croak out.

Daniel said, "Is this map a copy or is it the original?"

When Smith looked away, Jason felt release from the tension that had gripped him.

"Oh, it's the original," Smith said. "Close to 140 years old. It was donated." He pointed to a plaque at the bottom of the frame.

Daniel read, "Donated by Standing Bear, Professor of Native American Culture and Artifacts."

"He works at the University and owns a gift shop on Treasure Avenue," Smith said.

Jason cleared his throat. "Thanks for the information. We'll check out the gift shop." He tried to step around him.

"It was nice to meet you Jason. It's good to see young people who are interested in history. You boys feel free to stop by the museum anytime. I'm usually there when I'm not doing research or out in the field cataloging artifacts." He smoothed back his hair and the gray strands passed over the heavy gold and onyx ring.

Jason squeezed past him. He heard Daniel's footsteps following, but didn't look back until they were outside.

It was a relief to be out in the sunlight. Even the heat felt good as they rode to the museum. While they were stowing their bikes in the rack outside the entrance, a tour bus pulled up. The doors opened and a steady stream of senior citizens poured out the door and made their way inside.

Daniel groaned. "No way am I going in there with that crowd."

"Come on Daniel," Jason said. "We can get in and out before any of them even figure out what they want to buy." He pulled at his arm.

Daniel shrugged him off. "What's the hurry?"

"I don't want to run into Smith again."

"What's wrong with Smith?"

"I felt like he was trying to read my thoughts. He gives me the creeps."

"It'll take forever if we go in there with that crowd. You don't know how they poke and pick over things."

"You stay here with the bikes then. I'll be right back."

"Wait..."

But Jason was already heading for the door. He dodged around people struggling up the steps and entered the crowded gift shop. Women with large pocketbooks and men with canes blocked the aisle, but finally he stood in front of the bin of maps. He snatched one up and worked his way to the checkout, but stopped in dismay. A long line stretched out from the counter. The woman at the front chatted with the clerk as she pulled coins out of a small change purse and placed them one by one on the counter. He looked down at the map and back at the line.

Making his mind up, he tore off the label. He wiggled up to the front of the line and placed the bar code and money on the counter. The clerk looked at him and frowned. "You'll have to wait –" she said.

Jason interrupted. "Mr. Smith told me to pick this up. I don't need a bag and you can keep the change." He turned and fled from the room. Behind him he heard the clerk shouting, "Young man!"

"Thank you," he called back.

There were murmurs about young people and bad manners. He cringed, but clung to the map and kept moving. As he raced down the steps he called to Daniel, "Got it. Let's go!"

Daniel jumped to his feet.

"You were right," Jason said as he flung his leg over his bike. "Tough crowd. We probably want to get far away from here."

"What did you do – steal it?"

"Of course not. I gave them money."

"They didn't give you a bag?"

"In a hurry. Told her I didn't need one."

As they peddled around the corner, Jason swerved to avoid a gray Miata convertible coming toward them. The sun visor hide the driver's face, but a flash of sunlight reflected off his hand as he pulled in his arm and wrenched the wheel. The tires squealed and Jason's heart thumped in his chest, but he didn't look back.

When they got to their room they laid the maps side by side. Jason kneeled in a chair and leaned on the table. Daniel ran his finger over the writing in the margin on the gift shop map and read,

Pillars rise up from the floor

Awash in the moon's gray light.

It cascades down to a silver pool

That is just beyond your sight.

The golden age is over

And the eagle from her height,

Soars above the hidden nest

Suspended in her flight,

A guardian of the golden quest

Concealed by endless night.

"It's a riddle," Jason said.

"Yeah, I get that. It's talking about where Silas found the coins. Silver. Pillar."

Jason grinned. "Ah...Then the second part is talking about a gold treasure. Get it? Golden age? Golden quest? There's got to be another treasure!"

"I suppose it's hidden in an eagle's nest."

"Maybe he used an eagle instead of a skull and crossbones." He sat up and the chair wobbled. "Like in the movies where they always put the skeleton next to the treasure to guard it. McPherson was all alone so he didn't have a body to put by the treasure."

"So I suppose you think he killed an eagle and put it there?"

"They did a lot of strange things back then."

"Come on Jason. An eagle in a cave?"

"Okay, maybe not. But you have to admit it's possible the riddle is referring to gold." Daniel shrugged. "Let's go to the cave and look around," Jason said. "Who knows what we'll find?"

Daniel grunted. "Sounds like fun. There's no tour tomorrow. We can go then."

They rolled up the maps, and Jason put them in the corner of the closet.

CHAPTER 7 - THE GIRL IN THE CAVE

Before opening the snack shop the next day, Daniel gave Jason a crash course on how to use the cash register. He tried to pay attention, but all the time he was thinking about how to get away from the monster machine. He managed to convince Daniel that he didn't mind diving for ice cream. It wasn't hard. Daniel enjoyed talking to the people and raking in the money as he called it.

As Jason dished up ice cream, his thoughts were on treasure. He started to imagine the flavors as different jewels.

As he handed a chocolate cherry cone to a boy he said, "One ruby in the dirt." A small girl giggled when he gave her a scoop of vanilla and said, "Fresh water pearl for a pretty mermaid."

The pace picked up. Jason stopped looking at the customers and dished ice cream as fast as possible. Sundaes, shakes and cones all had new names as he handed them over the counter.

"Maple Walnut Sundae," a voice said.

"One Strrr-ike It Rich Sundae – coming up." He dropped two scoops of ice cream in the dish. "A few gold nuggets, some gold dust, and a covering of liquid gold." He sprinkled nuts and ground up Heath bar on top and swirled caramel topping over it with a flourish. "Will that be all?" He looked up to see a girl about his own age. She wore a white tank top and cut off jean shorts. Her dark hair was tied back in a ponytail and pulled through the back of a dark green baseball cap. White lettering across the front read Turtle Island Gifts.

"That's a lot of gold. Hope I have enough to cover it," she said as she reached for the bowl. He fumbled as he handed it to her. She caught it as it started to tip. "Whoops. Almost lost my fortune."

He reddened. "Just register your claim at the cashier," he said and waved toward the checkout. To his horror, Daniel was not there. A knot formed in his stomach as he looked around the small shop. Daniel was nowhere to be seen.

"The registration officer seems to have left his post. Perhaps you could fill in for him?" she said. She tilted her head and licked her spoon.

Suddenly the room felt hot, and he was light headed. As if some other force controlled his body he found himself walking toward the cash register. He wondered if he could remember anything Daniel had shown him.

The beast lay sleeping. The green display light was dim. It was waiting. Daring him to touch the keypad. The numbers on the keys swam before his eyes.

"Oh there you are Jason."

He looked up to see a figure marching toward them. He blinked several times and realized it was the Hummer.

"I'll ring that up if you'll finish pulling that cart of ice cream out of the walk-in freezer," she said. "I got it part way. You don't mind do you?"

His eyes met hers, and there was that slight crinkle around her eyes again. The tension went out of his shoulders. He turned to the girl and shrugged. "Guess she'll ring you up." He hurried into the back room and stopped short. The freezer was closed, and there was no cart in sight. He leaned against the freezer door and closed his eyes. The cool metal felt good against his hot face, and the image of the cash register faded. How did she know?

Daniel stuck his head around the corner and called, "Jason?"

He leaned around the cooler. "Yeah?"

"Your mom's on the phone."

He picked up the receiver.

"How's it going dear?" his mom said. "Daniel tells me you're working in the snack shop. How do you like living in a hotel?"

He told her about making up names for the ice cream creations.

She laughed. "It sounds interesting dealing with the tourists." She paused. "We decided to rent that house I mentioned we were looking at. It's old but has lots of interesting rooms." There was a hopeful eagerness to her voice as she said, "Wait until you see it. You'll have such fun deciding which room you want for your bedroom."

Jason felt some curiosity, but a house in the city could never really replace the woods.

"The yard isn't very big, but there's a couple trees for shade, and there's a turret with a good view of the park. That room is probably hot in the summer, but I'll bet it's going to be great in spring and fall."

They talked a bit more about ice cream flavors and cash registers. Then her lunch break was over and she had to get back to work.

As they walked to the cave, Jason told Daniel about the call and the house.

"I like the turret," Daniel said. "If we open the windows it wouldn't be too hot even in the summer."

"But it's still in the city," Jason said.

"Sure, but she said it's not on a main street. There are some trees, and we can go to the park. Maybe you'll like it."

"Maybe."

They entered the cave and stood in the main chamber. Sunlight poured through the hole in the roof and captured dust particles that spiraled down the shaft of light. All he could hear was their breathing and the distant trickle of water.

"It's spooky in here without the tour group," Jason said. His voice sounded loud and hollow.

"Yeah," Daniel said. He cleared his throat and the sudden sound made Jason jump.

"Let's check out the pillar." Jason tried to keep his voice soft, but the result was a sinister whisper.

They looked at each other and grinned. Daniel held up the battery-operated lantern and led the way into the gloom at the back of the cave. The artificial light cast eerie shadows on the walls. Jason looked into the hole at the base of the pillar where the coins had been hidden. His eyes traveled up the column to where the rock blended with the shadows and faded into the blackness above.

"So where do you think we start looking for the dead eagle?" Daniel said.

"Very funny. Shine the light over here."

Daniel obligingly swung the lantern around. Jason pointed to the ground.

"There's footprints back here."

"There was a tour yesterday, you know."

"But look. These lead away from the others." Jason took the lantern and started following the footprints. They led along the back wall to a narrow passageway. The ground began to slope downward. Soon it became so narrow they had to walk single file. He ran his fingers along the damp, clammy wall. The path came to an abrupt stop at a metal gate.

Daniel peered over his shoulder. "End of the road," he said.

Jason pointed to his feet where the last footprint was clear in the soft dirt. Frustrated, he grabbed the gate and shook it. To his surprise it popped open with a faint creak. Several steep steps led up.

"Let me tie my shoe," Daniel mumbled.

"Okay, I'm just going to take a peek."

"Don't do anything to make our insurance go up."

Jason crept up a step and looked over the top. He was on eye level with a long passageway. He was amazed to see a torch at the other end. It gave off a faint, pungent, smoky odor. The dim light illuminated a girl sitting by a pool. Long dark hair flowed down her back and was held in place by a leather band that circled her head. The fringe on the bottom of her deerskin dress hid the tops of her beaded moccasins.

"Daniel..." At the sound of his voice she looked in his direction. Jason felt Daniel's hand on his ankle. He turned back and whispered, "There's a girl up here."

Daniel climbed up beside him, and they looked down the passageway. It was dark. He held up the lantern and the light showed an empty corridor.

They scrambled up the remaining steps and raced down the path, skidding to a stop at the water's edge. It was a dead end. Behind the pool a thin curtain of water flowed down a solid wall and trickled into the pool.

Jason raised the lantern high and looked for another way out. "Where did she go?" His voice sounded flat and muffled. "There was a torch. Didn't you smell it?"

Daniel sniffed. "I don't smell anything."

The odor was gone, but he was sure he hadn't imagined it. He looked into the pool. Rock pinnacles reached up from the vast depths, straining for the surface. He shivered and turned away.

"She was here," Jason said. "Those footprints had to be hers."

"They stopped at the gate though."

"That's because this floor is too hard to leave prints. It's all stone. I tell you she looked right at me. She looked like an Indian girl right out of the past. She was even dressed like one."

"You're giving me the creeps Jason. Maybe Silas is right and this place is haunted, or else you're seeing things. Let's get out of here." He started back down the path.

Jason trailed behind. "I'm not seeing things. You saw the footprints too."

But when they got back to the gate, the footprints were gone.

"We must have rubbed them out when we walked over the top of them," Daniel said.

"Who do you think put the gate in?"

"Who knows? It's been here long enough for the latch to break off. Maybe someone fell in the pool a long time ago, and they had to put something up to keep kids like us out."

"That's a pleasant thought," he said as he pushed it back in place.

When they came outside Jason was surprised it was still daylight. A warm breeze ruffled his hair. It felt good after the dark dampness in the cave.

"Let's take the path through the woods," he said. "We can take a break in the shade by the boulder."

"And look for more coins?" Daniel said.

"Remember what Bradley said. You never know."

"Well there's more chance of finding an eagle out here. Maybe the poem was talking about an eagle outside the cave instead of a place called Eagle Cave." He looked up and scanned the rocks. "Then again, there have been rock slides. If there ever was an eagle's nest up there, it's probably buried in the rubble now."

They walked on in silence for awhile.

"Silas said he saw McPherson and others. I wonder if he saw the girl," Jason said.

Daniel shrugged. "Dad's been giving tours out here every week for several years. He's never seen anyone other than the tourists."

"Must run in the family," Jason muttered.

"What did you say?"

"I say, I wonder if Silas saw anyone in the cave when he was our age." He thought about the picture of Silas in front of the hotel. "The boy in the picture doesn't look anything like the old man. Funny how people change. But they both have the same fine wispy hair. One white. One blonde." Then he stopped suddenly and said, "Oh!"

Daniel turned back. "Oh?"

"The boy in the cave. The one wearing the flannel shirt. Same straw hat. Same blonde hair. It was Silas."

Daniel was silent as he thought it over. "He did say you looked familiar. Do you think the boy saw you?"

Jason nodded. "That's when he ran out of the cave."

"That had to be over seventy years ago for him. Like...some kind of time overlap."

Jason nodded. "That's too much for me. I'm not Einstein. Let's go get something to eat."

CHAPTER 8 - THE GREAT WAGON ROBBERY

They arrived on Treasure Avenue as the crowd was gathering for the reenactment. The smell of pastry and coffee drifted from the bakery shop behind them. Jason's stomach rumbled even though he had eaten breakfast just an hour ago.

"So was the gold ever recovered from the robbery?" Jason asked.

"Not that we know of," Daniel said. "I hope you're not thinking about looking for this treasure too?"

Jason shrugged. The thought pulled at him like a mirage in the desert.

They found an open spot with a clear view. The crowd started filling in around them, and soon the street was thronged on both sides with tourists. Next to him a little girl with dark braids was sitting on her father's shoulders. It made him think about his dad and wonder how he was doing on the new job.

Shopkeepers stood in their doorways waiting for customers to flock into their stores at the end of the show. As the breeze shifted, someone's cloying perfume irritated his nose.

He sneezed just as sudden gunshots rang out from the other end of the street. Children squealed and wrapped their arms around their parent's legs. A man on horseback came galloping down the street. He stopped, and the horse reared up as he fired off several more shots into the air.

Speakers installed in the storefronts blared out his message. "Are you ready for the gold wagon?"

Some children yelled back, "Yes!"

"Some of you are awake." He leaned forward in the saddle, and the horse shook its head. "Are – you – ready?" he bellowed.

Everyone joined in, "YES!"

The horse pranced down the street as he tossed candy into the crowd on either side. Children scrambled to catch the treats. Jason caught one as it bounced off his chest. It was a chocolate coin with the image of an eagle pressed into the gold foil wrapper. He looked up to see the girl with the braids looking down at him. Her black eyes sparkled as she focused on the candy. She gave him a big grin as he handed her the chocolate coin.

Over the laugher and lively chatter the man on the horse bellowed like a marine sergeant.

"One hundred thirty years ago the Goldwater Mine hit an unusually rich vein. The gold poured out of the mine and soon the owners were ready to ship the bullion to the mint. The wagon was weighed down with a heavy load of gold and the two guards were armed with shotguns and pistols." He paused and the horse reared up. "There it is now!"

He waved his pistol toward a side street. A buckboard wagon pulled by mules was coming out onto the street. The tarp-covered cargo was piled high. Two rough looking men with shotguns across their laps rode in the front.

A cry went up from the crowd at the other end of the street. All eyes turned to see several men on horseback with bandanas across their faces racing toward the wagon and shouting.

"Stop!"

"Pull up those mules."

"Put up your hands and you won't get hurt!"

As one of the wagon men raised his shotgun, the bandit fired his pistol. The mules stopped as the driver keeled over. The other guard fired off his shotgun, and a bandit slumped over his horse. Another pistol shot rang out, and the second guard clutched his chest and screamed as he fell backwards onto the load of gold.

Looking past the wagon, Jason saw a girl standing in the doorway of the Turtle Island Gifts shop across the street. She was wearing a deerskin dress and a leather band around her head. He grabbed Daniel's arm.

"Look, there she is."

Daniel was looking the other direction.

"Daniel!"

"What?"

"It's the girl from the cave," Jason said.

Daniel shook his arm. "Look, it's Silas. Across the street."

"Forget him. Look at her." He grabbed Daniel's head and turned his face. "There. In front of the store." But when he looked back, she was gone. He dropped his hands. "Oh, come on," he said and started across the street.

"Careful!" Daniel said, and yanked him back. Dust swirled around them as the bandits galloped by with the wagon in tow. The pungent odor of hot horses, leather, and gunpowder settled over him along with a cloud of dust.

Jason muttered, "Thanks."

Daniel squinted to see through the dust. "Silas is gone. Now what was it you wanted me to see?"

The speakers blared. "Get a DVD of this and other exciting stories at the Gold Pan Book Store. Make a memory of your visit at Rustic Photos. Sip a sarsaparilla at Happy Jack's Saloon, or stop in for a confectionery delight at Sweet Prospects."

They jostled their way through the crowd and crossed the street to the gift shop. A large turtle was carved into the shop's heavy front door. Moccasins displayed in the window looked as if the owners had just stepped out of them in the middle of a dance.

"She went in here." Jason paused with his hand resting on the handle. "Hey, this is where that girl smiled at me on our way to the library. She was dressed up too."

"Maybe she has a crush on you. She keeps popping up all over the place."

Jason made a face. He pulled open the door, and they stepped into a room that smelled faintly of leather and wood. The soft recording of chanting and windpipe music was a welcome relief from the confusion outside.

An older man stood behind the counter waiting on a well-dressed couple. A painted and glazed ceramic bust of a conquistador in the display case was surrounded by expensive jewelry. Its lifelike eyes seemed to watch them from behind the glass.

"All our art is certified that it is crafted by Native Americans," the man was saying. He glanced up at the boys. His straight black hair was streaked with gray and fell to his shoulders. Dark eyes looked out from a weathered face and appraised them briefly before turning back to his customers.

Jason looked around the room for the girl. Oil paintings with Native American themes hung over shelves that held pottery and carvings. No one else was in the store. Wind chimes tinkled as he eased open the door.

"If you're interested in the history of the area," the man was saying to the couple, "I have written a book on Native American Treasures and Art Forms. Or you could come to my lecture at the university..."

The boys stepped outside, and the door thumped closed behind them.

"Are you sure this is the right shop?" Daniel said. "She went in here?"

Jason nodded. "You would have seen her if you looked when I told you to."

"I didn't hear you. Guns going off. People yelling. It was noisy."

"Well I could hear you. You were looking at Silas."

"Actually he was looking at us. Watching us."

"Well she gave us the slip again."

"First you want to find treasure, and now we're chasing ghosts. Gives me an appetite. How about we go eat?"

Jason grunted. She could have slipped out a back door, but who was she? And how did she get out of the cave? He was now more certain than ever that she was real.

CHAPTER 9 - THE MONK

Jason sat in a rocking chair on the hotel porch and stared at the street. The afternoon was warm, and the chair's creaking was hypnotizing. His arms and legs felt heavy and his eyes started to close.

"Rocking chairs are dangerous on a day like this."

He jumped and his eyes jerked open. The Hummer leaned against the porch railing looking down at him.

"That's why there's so many senior citizens in this town that sit for hours on their porches and rock away the time," she said. "They were about your age when they first sat down. Then their thoughts drifted the wrong way. When they opened their eyes their bodies had changed. They discovered they were old and couldn't get up. So now they just rock – all day long."

Jason wasn't sure what to say.

"Where's your partner?"

"What?"

"Daniel. Aren't you two always together?"

"Oh. He's finishing up his summer class in Spanish. Aunt Rosalita thinks it's part of his heritage."

She nodded. "So you're on your own for awhile. What interesting things have you planned to do with this free time?"

He shrugged.

Her eyes were a darker blue than he remembered, and he felt caught in their grasp. The corners of her eyes crinkled and a slight smile tugged at her mouth.

"It's cooler in the woods. There's a wealth of exciting things underneath the green boughs just waiting for an intrepid explorer."

He stood up and the chair banged against the wall. She reached out and caught the arm, stilling the rocking motion.

"Life is a treasure. Have a good time." The bell over the door jingled as she went into the snack shop.

He stared at the door for a moment, then headed for the woods. The Hummer was peculiar, but she was right about it being cooler under the trees. Sunlight flickered in and out between the branches as he walked along the path. An intermittent breeze ruffled his hair and dried the sweat on his brow. Last year he spent a lot of time in the woods behind his house with his friends. He wondered what they were doing now.

A woodpecker's rat-a-tat-tat made him stop and look around. It was quiet with an eerie feeling of expectation. He always felt that way when he was alone in woods. Like the trees were trying to communicate with him, but he wasn't able to make out what they were saying.

Pine needles on the path muffled his footsteps, and their scent mingled with the odor of decaying wood. The path got fainter. Soon it became hard to distinguish which way it was leading. He looked back, but there was no sign of the path.

It was like the trail back home that led to the old tree house. It appeared and disappeared. You had to rely on landmarks. The hollow log. The fallen tree. The pond. Last year he and Daniel came up with an elaborate scheme to convince his parents to let them camp out in the tree house. They were going to try it this summer. Now they would never have a chance to see if the plan would have worked.

As he walked farther, maple trees began replacing the pine. Other trees slowly mixed in until he was walking under tall oaks. His footsteps now rustled through the fallen leaves of past seasons. A shrill cry made him look up. High above him, an eagle soared. It made several lazy circles before flying out of sight.

There was a loud crack as his foot came down on a dry branch. Startled, he looked around. There was an opening in the trees in front of him. He stepped between the branches onto pavement. Now he knew where he was. There was the Haunted Cave sign pointing up the boardwalk. Haunted Cave, or maybe Eagle Cave he thought.

Uncle Matt's tours were in the morning. No one would be here the rest of the day. This was his opportunity to check out the cave again. As he followed the boardwalk he squinted in the bright sunlight. His shirt felt hot against his back. Would he see the girl in the deerskin dress? Would she be sitting beside the pool?

Then he remembered he didn't have a lantern. His shoulders slumped. The boardwalk ended, and he stood before the dark entrance. Cold air blew from the opening, beckoning him inside. He took another step forward. Glancing back he saw heat waves rising from the boardwalk. They distorted the image of the trees and made the ground shimmer like a pool. He turned back to the cool cave.

Just a few steps inside. Not far enough to get lost in the darkness. He let his fingers trail along the cave wall. His eyes began to adjust, and it didn't seem so dark. There was a soft glow ahead. He blinked several times and rubbed his eyes. A shaft of light lit up the center of the main chamber. He had forgotten about the hole in the roof. He hurried forward, but stopped at the edge of the pool of light. Someone was sitting there.

He became aware of a sound. A low voice intoned unintelligible words as it rose and fell in a musical chant. The voice trailed off when the figure looked up. His coarse brown robe was tied with a simple rope belt, and he clutched a wooden cross. The light reflected from his bald head giving the image of a halo.

"Welcome my son," he said. He held out his hand and gestured him in. "Come, and join me in my prayers." He let the cross drop against his chest where it hung suspended on a string of beads.

Jason said, "I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll wait here."

"As you wish," he said. "You're not one of the conquistadors. Who are you?"

Jason didn't know what he meant. All he could think of was the robbery reenactment. Maybe he had interrupted another performance. "I didn't think there were any tours this afternoon."

"Ah, that is well. My heart is heavy during the tours of duty. And though you are hidden in the darkness I feel that you have a good heart."

"Are you part of an acting company?"

"I travel with a company of conquistadors," he said. "They believe I am here for the comfort of the natives." He leaned forward and dropped his voice to a whisper. "But it is for their spiritual enlightenment that I remain." He laughed. "Truly it is they who need my help the most, though they would not say it is so."

Jason heard faint sounds like a chain-link fence rattling and shoes clicking on the sidewalk. He looked back to the opening. Another tour group? The cave was getting crowded.

"They seek for treasure in the ground, but it is not where they think."

He spun back around. "It's not? You know where the treasure is hidden?"

The monk removed the cross from around his neck and smoothed out the string of beads. He laid it in his lap. "They are coming. If you are not part of their troop, then you should go now."

"Who's coming?"

The noises were getting louder and harsh voices mixed with what sounded like a horse neighing.

"The conquistadors," the monk said in a raspy whisper. Marching footsteps were coming down the corridor. As he jumped to his feet, the cross clattered to the ground. He stepped out of the light toward Jason. With frantic motions he gestured to the back of the cave. "Quickly!" he hissed. "You must hide."

Jason was not sure what was coming into the cave, but he felt the monk's terror and dashed across the room. As he brushed past the old man a bitter cold swept down his side making his leg numb. He staggered and tried to catch himself, but his fingers had lost all feeling. With a cry he fell to the ground and rolled over and over, coming to a stop in the circle of light.

The echoes from his cry died out leaving the cave silent. He was facing the entrance, but the room was empty. Just one side of his body was cold. He rubbed his hands together. The fingers were stiff and ached as he tried to massage feeling back into his leg.

When he swung his legs around to get up, he kicked something and it skidded across the floor. He crawled over to see what it was. The wooden cross lay at the light's edge with its string of beads stretching out into the darkness. He laid it on his leg and straightened out the string. The beads looked like turquoise and pink coral. He slipped it over his head and dropped it down inside his T-shirt where it lay warm against his skin.

He had plenty of time to think on his way back to the Silver Lode. Had it all been a show? He half expected to see everyone waiting for him on the porch with a video of the performance. Like a practical joke show on television. But everything was quiet as he entered the lobby.

He heard a car engine. Maybe Daniel was home from class. When he stepped outside an old truck was pulling out of the parking lot. Its faded bumper sticker read I Like Ike. Silas again?

The wooden cross felt smooth against his skin. Bradley had told them to let him know about any artifacts. Was it an artifact? He decided it was better to find out now, and headed for the museum.

He jogged up the museum steps and hurried past the gift shop to avoid the clerk. Now that he was here, he wasn't sure it was a good idea. Instinctively he pressed his hand over his chest where the cross lay hidden.

He passed a display case full of weapons and slowed his steps. A dagger with a jeweled handle caught his eye. It was too fancy for a pirate's weapon and didn't look functional enough for fighting. Probably a show piece for a rich landowner. He heard footsteps and voices approaching. Quickly he darted down the hall past the Employees Only sign.

The voices faded as he made his way down the secluded corridor. The muffled sound of his sneakers seemed to echo off the walls and announce his presence. At any moment he expected to be caught and escorted out.

He stopped in a doorway. It was the room where they had talked to Bradley. Peering inside he scanned the area. It was empty. He stepped inside.

Light streamed through the window and fell on the shelves holding the rows and rows of labeled drawers. The tarnished brass handles were old and worn, and the varnished wood glistened.

He ran his finger over the number on a label. 52-0229. With a smooth motion, his finger slid under the handle. There was a soft swoosh of wood on wood as he pulled the drawer open. He leaned forward holding his breath. Inside, a turquoise necklace lay nestled on a piece of folded cloth embroidered with blue beaded flowers.

"Jason?"

He jerked his hand away and spun around. It was Bradley.

"Can I help you find something?"

"No. Well, yes. I was looking...for you," he stammered.

"Oh?" He nodded at the drawer. "When you're done there, just push the drawer closed." He walked over and sat down at the desk. Jason took a seat in the other chair.

"So did you come to apply for a summer job? Or maybe to escape from the heat."

Jason hesitated. The cross felt hard against his chest. He was sure the beads against his neck were the same as the ones on the necklace he had just seen in the drawer.

"What's on your mind?" Bradley said. He pushed up his glasses with the back of his hand.

"Well, you said we should let you know if we found any artifacts."

Bradley looked him in the eye. "You found something?"

Jason nodded. He pulled the beaded string over his head and laid it on the desk. Bradley let out a low whistle and wiped his hands on his pant legs. He flipped on a light attached to a magnifying glass. Carefully he removed a small, carved stone from under the glass and placed the cross in its place. Leaning over he peered first at the cross and then at the beads.

"Where did you find this?"

There was a slight tremble to his voice as Jason said, "I didn't take it out of the drawer."

"Of course not," Bradley said without looking up. "I know everything in that storage."

Jason let his breath out with relief. "Is it valuable?"

"I think it might be."

"Then it's an artifact." Jason said.

"I'm...not...sure," Bradley said. He squinted through the glass. "The workmanship is ancient and it looks like it was made with ancient tools, but it doesn't appear to have any signs of age. It's almost like it was transported here out of time."

Jason felt a chill down his back. Bradley looked up. "I'm not sure exactly what to make of it. You do seem to be very good at finding treasure of one sort or another. Since it's not technically an artifact, you're not obligated to tell me where you found it, but I am interested."

"Haunted Cave."

"Doing a little exploring alone?"

He shifted position. "If it's not an artifact, then can I keep it?"

Bradley nodded with some hesitation. "Someone must have lost it. I suggest taking it to Standing Bear at the Turtle Shop and have him appraise it. You can tell him I sent you."

Someone cleared his throat and Jason jumped. He looked up to see Smith. From the corner of his eye he saw Bradley put his hand over the carved stone, hiding it from view.

"I see you've found a treasure," Smith said as he reached out and took the cross. "Did the map turn out to be useful?"

Bradley laughed. "Not our famous treasure map from the gift shop?"

Smith gave him a scornful look and Bradley sobered. "I'm not sure it's an artifact," Bradley said. "I suggested he get it appraised by Standing Bear."

Smith turned the cross over and examined it. "We are quite capable of determining authenticity right here, Bradley."

"Yes, of course. I just thought we would need an official certification. And it is his area of expertise..."

"It doesn't appear to have signs of aging," Smith said. "Pity. You missed your opportunity for fame. After a piece is added to the collection we make up a plaque engraved with the name of the discoverer. However, since this piece doesn't qualify, it should be reported to the authorities as a lost item. You'll receive any reward money, of course." He turned away.

Bradley's hand hovered over his shirt pocket for a moment, then quickly he folded his hands. "I can write up the paperwork," he said. "We'll need the appraisal certification from Standing Bear. If he thinks it's worth a lot, he can keep it for Jason until we know if anyone is going to claim it."

Smith stiffened and turned in slow motion. He gave Bradley a cold stare. His eyes traveled down to where there was now a small bulge in his shirt pocket. Then he forced a smile, and held out the cross. Jason's hand closed around the string. Their eyes met as he gave it a gentle tug. Smith's fingers let go one by one and the cross slid from his hand. In a smooth motion, Jason slipped it over his head and dropped it inside his shirt.

Smith patted him on the shoulder. "You let us know if you find anything else. We don't want you to miss out on your chance for fame or reward." Then he strode out of the room.

Jason looked back at the desk. The carved stone was gone. Why had Bradley put it in his pocket?

CHAPTER 10 - WHAT'S IT WORTH?

Daniel studied the cross lying on the table between them. "Okay, so you see this monk, and he gives you a cross."

"He didn't give it to me," Jason said. "He dropped it."

"You're sure it wasn't someone dressed up like a monk?"

Jason smirked. "Maybe it was one of the ghosts Silas talked about."

Daniel looked dubious. "You think you saw a ghost?"

"I was joking. I don't know what I saw. He talked to me, I have his cross, and he disappeared. What do you think it was?"

"Could have been an actor from the dinner theatre where Katie works sometimes."

"But that doesn't explain how he disappeared so quickly. And it doesn't explain the freezing cold in my fingers and leg."

Daniel stared at the floor for a long time before looking up. "Okay. We know the boy you saw looks like Silas. The Indian girl looks like someone in town, and now you've had an encounter with a monk."

Jason stiffened. "I didn't make it all up. You didn't see them, but I do have the cross."

Daniel said, "I don't know if they're ghosts, or time travelers, or aliens from outer space. Whatever. It's obvious you're seeing something. Let's go back and see if anyone shows up when I'm there with you."

Jason relaxed. "Deal."

"In the meantime where do we go to get it appraised?"

"Turtle Island Shop. Bradley said to see someone named Standing Bear."

"Standing Bear," Daniel repeated. He squeezed his eyes tight and pressed his lips together. Then his face brightened. "Isn't that the name on the plaque?" Jason looked blank. "You know, the one who donated the map."

"Oh, yeah," Jason said. "The guy from the university."

"Guess that's how Bradley knows him."

"It's also the shop where the girl disappeared."

"Let's go," Daniel said.

Jason picked up the cross. "Maybe this time you'll see the girl instead of me."

Jason approached the store with apprehension. He wanted to know about the cross, but didn't want to give it up. Daniel pulled the carved door open and motioned for Jason to go inside. The heavy door thumped closed behind them, and the elderly man looked up from behind the jewelry counter. Jason noticed the bust of the conquistador was no longer in the case. Maybe someone had bought it.

"Can I help you boys?"

"Bradley..." Jason began. He paused when he realized he didn't know Bradley's last name. He turned to ask Daniel, but he was gone. When he scanned the room trying to find him, he spotted the ceramic conquistador. It was perched on the center piece of a circular rack of dresses. And there was Daniel, slowing spinning the rack. What was he doing? He turned back. The man raised his eyebrows in a question.

"Um...Bradley. From the museum." He cleared his throat and started over. "Bradley told us to talk to Standing Bear."

The man smiled. "Ah, yes. That would be me."

Jason fumbled at the string around his neck and slid it over his head. "He thought maybe you could tell us if this is worth anything."

Standing Bear caressed the wood and fingered the beads. He looked up. "Where did this come from?" His voice was low and the smile had faded.

Jason swallowed. All kinds of answers flew through his head, but he was held by those penetrating eyes and decided to tell the truth. "In Haunted Cave."

Standing Bear laid the cross on the counter. He sat down on a stool and dropped his hands in his lap. "There are many unexplained things about Haunted Cave. My people call it The Place of Visions. I have been there many times with Victor Smith."

Jason pulled the cross closer to him. "You are friends with Mr. Smith?"

"For a time we searched together. I for the artifacts of my people. He for treasure."

"Who are your people?"

"Cherokee. But I was not referring to the whole Cherokee nation, just a small portion. Long ago, when my family's group knew they were going to be moved to a reservation, they buried a portion of their wealth. They planned to come back someday and reclaim it. I have traced it to this area, but I have not yet been able to discover where it is hidden."

"Did you use the map in the library?"

"The McPherson treasure map." He smiled. "McPherson was part Cherokee you know. He sent the map to my great grandfather, and it was handed down to me."

"The map doesn't lead to the treasure?"

"At one time I thought the map held the key. But now I think that it only spoke of the silver treasure that Silas found."

"He claims to have seen McPherson in the cave," Jason said. "He said he saw him bury the silver coins."

"The cave has strange influences on people. Few who go there often are unaffected."

Jason hesitated. "Have you seen anything or – anyone there?"

Standing Bear was silent for a long moment. "I've seen many things there," he finally said.

"Did Mr. Smith ever find his treasure?"

"I do not think he found what he sought." He pointed at the cross. "I will need to examine it closely, and that will take some time. Will you leave it with me?"

"When should I come back?"

"Give me a couple days."

Jason turned and almost tripped over Daniel.

"Ready?" Daniel said.

Bluegrass music played from the speakers as they stepped out into the heat. The tantalizing smell of roasting meat came from the pit beef stand up the block.

"How long were you right behind me? Did you hear Standing Bear's story?" Jason asked.

"Yep. Did you get a receipt?"

Jason felt his stomach tighten. "Nooo..."

"No?"

"No. And where you?" he demanded. "You left me there alone. I looked around and you were over there looking at dresses! Did you find anything that fit?"

"Very funny. I was checking to see if any of them would fit your mystery girl. You remember. The one in the cave?"

"Oh. What did you find?"

"There were plenty of authentic deerskin dresses there."

"So you think anyone could have bought one and wore it to the cave?"

"Well, not just anyone. They had pretty hefty price tags. It would have to be a rich someone."

"And they had to be able to disappear. Don't forget that part."

"I saw something else. The door to the back room was open and guess who was back there?"

Jason gave him an exasperated look.

Daniel grinned, obviously enjoying the suspense. "A girl – with long dark hair. If she's the same one as the girl in the cave, there must be a back entrance. Make sense?"

Jason said, "Yeah that would explain it. But there is that deep pool."

"So we'll take more light and check it out. Let's get something to eat."

Although they ate pit beef sandwiches, fudge, ice cream and dinner, they still wanted something to munch on that evening. Jason was rummaging through their room when Daniel returned with a bag of cheese crackers and sodas.

"What are you looking for?" Daniel said.

"The library book. I left it on the nightstand."

Daniel set down the food and pulled out his half opened dresser drawer. "Well it's not in here, but I guess you know that since you made a mess of my socks."

"What are you talking about? I didn't go through your stuff."

"Well someone did. The drawer was open and look." He pointed to the contents. The socks were no longer in neat rows sorted by color. Now they were all jumbled together.

"Looks normal to me," Jason said. "Maybe your mom is trying to help you overcome your neatnik phobia. Hey, there it is."

He dived over the drawer and rescued the book where it was caught halfway between the dresser and the wall. While smoothing out the cover, he noticed the curtain moving. He jerked the curtain back. The window was not quite shut, and a warm breeze drifted in.

"Did you leave the window open?"

"Not me."

Jason shut the window and went back to his bed. As he propped up the pillows something fluttered to the floor. It was his bookmark. He picked it up and looked at Daniel.

"I think someone's been here going through things."

"Spidy!" they both said together and raced to the closet. Daniel pulled down the toy and popped off the bottom. The coin fell out into Jason's hand.

"So who do you think was in here?" Jason said as he replaced the coin.

"It wasn't Mom," Daniel said, and put the toy back on the shelf. "The family doesn't get room service, so it wasn't the maid. Maybe it was one of your ghosts from the cave."

"That's creepy," he said. "I think it was someone real."

"The map!" They both said together and ran back to the closet. There in the corner was the map from the gift shop. The other one was gone.

"Are you sure you left them both there?" Daniel said.

"I'm positive."

"Silas!" Daniel said.

"Smith!" Jason said.

They discussed it for a long time before crawling into bed, but didn't come to any agreement. Silence finally fell over the room, but Jason didn't sleep well that night.

CHAPTER 11 - ANOTHER STRIKE IT RICH SUNDAE

Cool air rising up from the bin felt wonderful. The ice cream wasn't as hard today, and it was easier to scoop out the icy treat. The steady hum of the air conditioner was an endless undercurrent to the conversations in the snack shop.

"One Strike It Rich Sundae, please."

As Jason straightened up, he banged his elbow on the side of the case, sending a numbing shock up his arm.

"Ahhh," he yelped and rubbed his elbow against his side. He felt a flush creep up his neck as he stood face to face with the girl he had waited on earlier in the week. Instead of a ponytail, her hair was plaited into two long braids, and her cap was now burgundy. He dropped the scoop, and it rattled in the bottom of the bin.

"Has the mine played out?" she said. With a smile she tilted her head to one side and peeked over the counter.

With an exclamation he grabbed the scoop and tossed it into the sink. He gave her a lopsided grin. "Maple Walnut?" he said as he dug in with a new scoop.

She leaned her elbows on the counter. "Don't forget the gold dust, gold nuggets AND the covering of liquid gold."

"Nuts, heath bar, and caramel. Got it." His hand shook a bit as he handed her the bowl.

She glanced around the room. "Looks like I'm your last customer for the rush hour. Do you get breaks?"

Jason turned around to find the Hummer looking his way. She nodded. "Take some ice cream."

They sat down at a small table by the window. Daniel still had a long line of people at the cash register buying souvenirs.

"My name's Jason," he said.

"I know."

His hand stopped halfway to his mouth. The caramel started to drip.

"Careful," she said and pushed the bowl underneath the spoon.

"How do you know me? And what's your name? Did I see you in the cave?"

She laughed. "I've been on several tours. You might have seen me then. My name's Nita. And you were in our shop yesterday to see my grandfather."

Jason thought furiously. "Standing Bear is your grandfather?"

She nodded. "He works at the University as the Professor of Native American Culture. Your cross made quite a hit. He logged onto the University website and spent all evening on the network doing research. He'll tell you all about it when you come back." She put her spoon down and leaned on the table. "Can you tell me how you found it?"

"First tell me something. Were you wearing one of the dresses in your shop and sitting by the pool in the cave?"

Her eyes got big with surprise. "Not me. You've been to the pool? Isn't that a bit off the tour route?"

He nodded, never taking his eyes off her.

"What about the gate?" she asked.

"The lock is broken," he said. "We went through and I looked down the passageway. You were sitting by the pool in a deerskin dress. The fringe on the bottom was draped over your feet. You were wearing beaded moccasins like the ones in your store window and had a leather band around your head."

Nita looked serious. "Honest, it wasn't me."

"If it wasn't you, she could be your twin."

Nita frowned. "Grandfather put that gate in with the lock. There are petroglyphs down that tunnel, and he wants them preserved."

"What are petroglyphs?"

"Native American art that is chiseled into the rock. Down by the pool, the walls are covered on both sides with all kinds of pictures. Didn't you see them?"

"I wasn't looking at the walls. I was looking for the girl. And then I saw that bottomless pool."

She giggled.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"It's an optical illusion. The pool is about six inches deep. What you see is a reflection of the ceiling."

He felt his face get hot as he realized how dumb he must appear. His voice took on a defensive tone. "I suppose the girl was an illusion too?"

"Not unless she was sitting on the ceiling," she said and smirked. "But I think that would be just as hard to explain."

"She was beside the pool – not in it," he said.

"You were in what we call the Place of Seeing. Many visiting that place have come away with strange stories. I don't doubt you saw someone, but it's hard to say if she was real."

"I've met several people in the cave," he said. "I think Daniel believes I'm making it up or imagining things. I'm beginning to doubt myself. Have you ever seen anyone there?"

"I haven't. But I think my grandfather has. He doesn't talk to me much about it, but I've heard him discuss it with Bradley."

"Bradley? From the museum?"

She nodded. "He stops by quite often. Sometimes they go out to lunch. Other times Bradley brings things in and they go in Grandfather's appraisal room and shut the door."

Jason thought about Bradley slipping things into his pocket. Was he taking artifacts from the museum to Standing Bear?

Daniel stepped up to the table with a bowl of ice cream. "Can I join the party?"

Jason slid over making room and introduced them.

Daniel grinned at Nita. "So why is a shop miles away from the sea called Turtle Island? Is that wishful thinking that you were on a desert island?"

She laughed. "My ancestors' name for North America was Turtle Island. I guess from their point of view I am on a desert island. Sometimes the weather here makes me feel like it's a desert."

Jason felt like an intruder as the two of them laughed and talked. There was movement at the window, and he caught a glimpse of an old man passing by. He frowned. Was that Silas again?

When he turned back to the table, Nita was looking at him. It seemed hot in the room, like the air conditioner wasn't working. A small smile tugged at her mouth as she looked at Daniel. Was she laughing at him? He was glad when Daniel's ice cream finally melted, and Nita left to go back to her shop.

Daniel picked up his bowl. "I think she likes you."

"How could you tell? She hung on every word you said." Daniel looked puzzled. "Didn't you see the way she kept glancing at you?"

"She just wanted to know about the cross we left with her grandfather."

"I think that was an excuse. So, did she confess to being in the cave?"

"No. She was serious when she said it wasn't her. I believe her."

"Well, that leaves us with ghosts, time travelers or space aliens. All those are kind of eerie."

CHAPTER 12 - THE CONQUISTADOR

It was early when the boys arrived at the cave to set up for the morning tour.

Daniel led the way into the cave and set down the bag of replica coins. "I'll turn the lights up so we can see what we're doing." He opened the access panel and flipped the switch. There was a flash of light and then darkness. He groaned. "Must have blown a fuse again. Katie will have to fix it when she gets here."

"So now what do we do?"

"Lantern." He reached behind a stalagmite and pulled out a lantern and matches.

"Matches? Isn't that kind of primitive?"

"We keep them here for the special torchlight tours Dad does on full moon nights." He hummed the tune to the Adams Family as he struck the match. In a bad Transylvanian accent he said, "Come Igor. Bring the coins."

Jason followed dragging one leg. "Coming Master." He stumbled as he slung the bag of coins over his shoulder and let out an "oof," as they landed hard against his back.

"Careful Igor," Daniel said. "Do not spill the treasure." He hung the lantern on a hook, and the light cascaded down the pillar to reveal the hole. "We will hide the treasure here. Surely no one will think to look behind this column."

Jason let the bag of souvenir coins drop into the hole with a jingle and a clink. Daniel was reaching for the lantern when they heard the sound of metal sliding over metal. They both turned and stood with their mouths open.

Before them stood a tall man dressed in armor. The light reflected off the sword he was holding, and his helmet cast a shadow over his face.

"What have we here?" he boomed.

"He's wearing the armor from the library," Daniel said under his breath. All traces of the fake accent were gone.

Jason followed the moving sword with his eyes. It looked dangerous.

The man leaned forward and peered at them. "Why....you're nothing but boys. Pickpockets and beggars no doubt." In one smooth motion, he sheathed his sword and advanced toward them.

As he stepped into the light, Jason gasped. "Victor Smith," he whispered. The sound snaked around the room. The reflection from the library had come to life and now confronted them.

"You may indeed call me victor, but do not call me smith." His lip curled in a sneer. "My family line has a long succession of conquerors. We leave menial smithing to lesser men."

He strode toward them. They didn't see where it had been hidden, but a dagger now gleamed in his hand. He thrust it forward. They yelped and plastered themselves against the wall. He threw back his head and laughed. "Let's see your treasure Igor," he said. With a clean sweep he speared the bag on the glittering blade and hefted it into the air.

"Not much here," he said as the bag swung from the sharp point. With a twist of his hand the bag split open. The coins tumbled into his open hand, some slipping through his fingers and spilling onto the floor. He wasn't Smith, Jason realized. But who was he?

"Silver coins, eh?" He jingled them in his hand. "Did you boys pinch this off one pompous gentleman, or is this your meager take for the whole month?" He poured the coins from his hand into a pouch hanging from his belt.

Jason took a step forward. "Hey, you can't...," he began. He stopped short when the man thrust his dagger toward him with a wicked grin. Jason felt a wave of frigid air.

"Easy there Igor. Cross me and you'll taste my steel. But if you're smart, you'll stick with me and I'll teach you the tricks of the trade. Of course most of the winnings will go to me at first. Call it a training fee." His grin spread wider revealing a few missing teeth. "Interested?"

Daniel said, "Who are you?"

"Ah, you learn fast. I will allow you to call me Balboa." He opened his arms wide and bowed slightly. "Enough of pinching pockets. I have plans for much larger fortunes." He lowered his voice. "Treasure beyond your dreams."

"Treasure?" Jason asked.

Balboa leaned forward. Another wave of cold brushed against Jason's face making his teeth hurt. Balboa whispered, "Gold. Enough gold to buy a fleet of ships." His rancid breath smelled of rum and tobacco. "Yesss gold," he hissed. "Treasure to let us all live like kings."

Jason recoiled but resisted the urge to cover his nose.

Balboa sheathed the dagger in his boot and strode around the room gesturing as if to a crowd. "When I return to Spain the countryside will all turn out to greet me. Merchants will vie to place their finest wares before me. I will build a palace. It will be filled with servants and protected by my own loyal guardsmen. The most beautiful women in all the land will strive to win my heart."

He spun around, and his eyes fastened on Jason. "And you, Igor? What is the desire of your heart?"

Jason's face flushed. "I want to keep my home."

He laughed, and the sound echoed in the chamber. "You are but a foolish boy grubbing for money to pay your taxes." His face sobered. "You will soon learn to appreciate the wonders that gold can bring you."

From the cave entrance came the faint smell of diesel and the rumble of the bus engine. The door squeaked as it opened, and the sound of voices grew as people poured off the bus.

"What bewitchment is this?" Balboa thundered as he whipped out his dagger. As he stepped toward them he shimmered like the image in a pool when ripples stir the surface.

"You tricked me, but you'll not betray my secret." His hand stretched and wavered as he rotated the dagger and threw it at Jason. Time seemed to stop as the dagger tumbled over and over in a lazy motion and then hung suspended in the air. The ripple effect grew stronger. With a distorted cry that quivered and echoed, Balboa blurred and disappeared. The dagger clattered to the ground, and Jason stood staring at it.

"Come on," Daniel said pulling on his arm. "Help me with these coins."

Jason stirred and reached for the dagger. It was cold. He wrapped the blade in the empty burlap bag. Then, as he had done so many times when playing pirate, he slipped it through his belt in the back and dropped his shirttail over it. Stooping down he helped Daniel push the coins into the hole.

Katie dashed into the cavern. She paused as she saw them. "Hurry up guys. You should be done by now. You'll ruin my lighting effects."

Daniel blew out the lantern, and they were plunged into darkness. Uncle Matt was explaining the geologic formation of the cave as the group came up the boardwalk. The boys fumbled their way through the dark to a corner.

As the group entered the room, Katie turned up torches on the walls. Instantly the chamber was transformed into an ancient cave. A place where early explorers were guided by flickering lights that cast ominous shadows and where danger lurked in dark corners.

When Matt began to tell the story of McPherson, Daniel nudged Jason and jabbed his thumb toward the cave entrance. They tiptoed out.

Emerging into the sunlight, Jason blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Where do you think he went?"

"I don't know but that dagger was wicked."

Jason put his hand on his shirt where the dagger was concealed. "It was sure creepy how much he looked like..."

There were footsteps behind them, and they both turned. Victor Smith stood in front of them.

"Not staying for the tour?" Smith asked. His eyes looked out at them from under the wide brim of his hat.

For a moment Jason pictured him in Balboa's armor. How long had he been there? How much had he heard? Jason dropped his hand down to his side in what he hoped was a casual manner.

"No, we were just setting up for the tour."

"Rather dark in there isn't it?" Smith asked and glanced at the entrance. "I saw that Katie had to reset the fuse. Tricky thing electricity. Sometimes goes out at the most inconvenient times, doesn't it?"

"We used the lantern," Daniel said.

Smith nodded. "I've had occasion to explore by lantern light. Gives a different feel to the experience. You see things in – shall we say – a whole different light?" His soft laugh sent a shiver up Jason's spine.

"Haunted Cave is a strange place. It changes with the seasons and time of day," Smith continued. He dropped his voice. The hat shaded his face so that his eyes glittered from the shadow. "It's especially interesting at night when the full moon shines down through the opening in the roof. For those with imagination, it can be a fascinating or perhaps terrifying place. Many people are afraid to explore it in the dark. But you boys don't seem to be bothered by ghosts."

The tour inside was breaking up, and Matt was handing out the coins.

"We better be going," Daniel said. "They'll need our help at the gift shop."

Smith tipped his hat. As they walked to their bikes, Jason could feel those eyes boring into his back where the dagger was hidden. As they rode away he glanced back. Smith was still standing there by the entrance to the cave watching them.

CHAPTER 13 - A MONK'S JOURNAL

Jason sprawled across the bed in front of the air conditioner and let the cold air flow up his sleeves. Daniel sat cross-legged on his bed with the dagger balanced on his finger. It wobbled back and forth several times before the motion ceased. Jason swung around and lifted his shirt in the back.

"It seems to have a good balance," Daniel said.

"In all the pirate movies that means it was made by a master craftsman," Jason said.

Daniel gave him an irritated look. "Pirate movies are not the best source of facts."

"Alright then. It doesn't much look like the weapon of a nobleman."

"How can you tell?"

"No jewels, and the handle doesn't seem to be any kind of precious stone or metal. I don't think Balboa had made his fortune yet."

Daniel grasped the handle with his other hand and touched the glittering blade.

Jason's back was finally cold, and he dropped his shirt. "If we show it to Uncle Matt, he can make small replicas and sell them in the gift shop."

"I think you have to have a special license to sell weapons," Daniel said.

"Okay. Letter openers then."

Daniel gave him a yeah-right look. "Stop thinking about money. What we need to think about is where did Balboa come from, and more importantly – where did he go?"

"Do you think he's a ghost?"

"Well, you couldn't see through him. And he didn't talk about being dead. Aren't ghosts supposed to be people who died?"

"He did seem solid. And he was planning for a long and prosperous life. I don't think a ghost plans to get rich and build a house or have a wife."

"Okay," Daniel agreed. "So he wasn't a ghost. How about an actor?"

"That's a pretty deadly weapon for an actor. It's not a stage prop."

The lamplight reflected off the highly polished blade as Daniel sliced through the air with it. "I really like this knife."

"It looks like something Victor Smith would carry," Jason said.

"They did look alike didn't they? He's creepy, but do you think he's dangerous?"

Jason shrugged. "It was weird to see him outside the cave. Almost like he was expecting us."

Daniel lowered the dagger. "How did Balboa pull off that fading out trick?"

"Maybe there's some kind of electronics, or smoke and mirrors or – I don't know – something to create that kind of illusion."

"I think Katie or Dad would notice if someone's been messing around setting up equipment. You know how fussy Katie is. And, remember the power was out."

"That only leaves time travel or aliens," Jason said.

"He seemed pretty human to me. But the power outage fits with the alien theme from movies."

Jason smirked. "Now who's quoting Hollywood? Time travel would explain the cross."

"Are they from the same time period?" He touched the tip of the blade with his thumb.

"I think so," Jason said. "Maybe we should take the knife to Standing Bear and get his opinion on it."

Daniel looked at his hand and saw a trickle of blood. "That thing's sharp," he said. He put his thumb to his mouth as he grabbed a tissue to stop the bleeding.

"Balboa did say we'd taste his steel if we crossed him," Jason said. "Guess he was right."

"We'll take the dagger to Standing Bear tomorrow when we pick up the cross," Daniel said.

The phone rang. When Jason answered, it was his dad.

"Hi son. I wanted to let you know that we signed the lease on the house and started moving in. I can't wait to show you around. Did your mom tell you about the park?"

"She mentioned it."

"It has a six hundred year old oak tree."

"Do they let kids climb on it?"

"I don't think so. But I did meet an old man that's writing a book about the history of the area. I think you'd like him. He can tell you about all the historic places around here."

"But that's all in tour books," Jason said.

"The well known stuff is. But this man's family has lived around here for several generations. He knows a lot of the stories behind the scenes."

"Like what?"

"Like the beach where pirates landed to repair their ship. Or the new archeology dig not too far from here."

"A real dig?" His fingers tightened around the receiver.

"If you get to know him, he may even take you on a visit to the ruins."

"Do they let kids work on the site?"

"If someone sponsors them. You'd be a natural."

"You think so?"

"Why not? And when you're not practicing archeology, we can explore the hiking trails in the park. When Daniel comes to visit you'll know all the best spots."

Daniel was asleep by the time he got off the phone. Jason lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling, turning thoughts over in his head. He tried to picture the old man in the park. Was he as old and strange as Silas? And a real archeological dig. That was something that wouldn't happen back home. His dad didn't say what kind of ruins they were they excavating. Maybe the pirates had buried treasure on the beach while they were repairing their ship.

He opened up the library book. The musty smell drifted up as he thumbed through the pages. There were stories about treasures made and stolen, fortunes found and gambled away, and treasures hoped for but never realized.

One story told about a cache of gold that had been buried in the area. Some people credited the cache to McPherson, but most thought that it was buried by a band of Cherokee escaping through the area after being driven off their land.

Jason turned the page. The next story was about a conquistador who had deserted his unit and set about stealing gold from the Indians. The infamous man was known only as Balboa.

Jason sat up. "Balboa!" he exclaimed.

Daniel groaned and rolled over onto his back. In his hurry to get out of bed, Jason's foot got tangled in the sheet. Flailing his arms to catch his balance, the book flew out of his hand. It sailed across the room and landed on Daniel's stomach. Daniel jerked upright as Jason hit the floor. They both yelled together.

Breathing hard, Daniel's eyes were wild as he looked around the room. He focused on Jason who was stretched out on the floor, one foot still twisted in the sheet. "What are you doing?"

"I was reading."

"On the floor?"

"I was coming to show you something in the book."

Daniel spotted the crumpled book on the end of his bed. "Is that what hit me? Why'd you throw it at me?"

The phone rang. Jason sat up and tried to unwrap his foot which was still on the bed. As the phone continued to ring he looked over his shoulder. "Could you get that?"

Daniel said, "Oh, sure." He picked up the phone and listened.

"Uh, yeah. Everything's fine...Jason fell out of bed. Yep...We'll keep it down...We're going to sleep now....Goodnight." He hung up the phone. "You want to explain what's going on?"

Jason limped over rubbing his knee. He took the book and straightened out the pages. "Listen to this."

In a monk's diary from the early 1600's are entries about an infamous character known only as Balboa.

Daniel sucked in his breath. "Balboa?" Jason's smile was smug. He read on.

June 10, 1603: The Indians told me today about a man they call Balboa who they say has been stealing gold from them and hiding it in the hills.

July 12, 1603: The heat was oppressive today. I retreated to the coolness of the cave in order to do my morning meditations. My thoughts were disturbed by the intrusion of a renegade conquistador. He was already drunk, or perhaps still drunk from the night before.

He blustered about waving his arms and bragging about the prowess of Balboa. I assume he meant himself. Around his neck was a heavy gold chain, and his hand bore a ring with a stone as black as his heart. Doubtless plunder from misfortunate natives. It was clear he was not a nobleman with wealth of his own.

I did not confront the villain, for a large sword hung at his side. I feared that at any moment he would draw the weapon and end my labors on this earth. He soon wearied of my company and staggered out into the heat of the day. My heart was lightened to see him go.

August 2, 1603 – Daylight is fading and tonight my stomach is empty. My supper was stolen from me even as I sat down to the rare treat of freshly baked fish.

I had scarcely taken one bite when that ruffian Balboa burst through my door. With a boisterous laugh, he thanked me for his dinner and snatched my plate. Between mouthfuls he demanded bread and wine. When I declared I had none, he reached for his sword, but his scabbard was empty.

With a string of curses he swore revenge against the young beggars that had stolen his weapon. I noticed that his gold ring was also missing. His eyes gleamed with a wicked light as he declared that soon he would have enough gold to purchase the finest sword forged in the New World.

Throwing my plate on the floor, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. With a warning that I should restock my larder, he stomped out into the night.

"You don't think he's talking about us do you?" Jason said.

"We didn't take his sword. He still had it when he wavered out on us."

Jason sighed with relief. "That's right. Wasn't us. Probably knew lots of beggars."

"What's the next entry?" Daniel said.

August 27, 1603: Balboa has once again entered my life to my great dismay. I do not know how many of the natives he has plundered, but at his side hung a new formidable weapon. He drew it with a great flourish and at sword point he took Plato, my burrow. I last saw them heading into the wilderness where I am told the Indians are not friendly.

I am now forced to carry my own firewood and water. My knees are weak, and my back is sore from the labor. Plato was a faithful beast and a comfort in my solitude. I fear for his fate at the hands of that madman.

September 15, 1603: Plato has returned! He was hungry and tired but nothing that rest and good feed will not cure. Balboa's sword was strapped to the bundle of provisions on his back. There was also one sack that was empty except for some small traces of gold dust in the bottom. Though I am thankful for the provisions, I am troubled to think that Balboa has met an untimely but just end.

The drone of the air conditioner was the only sound.

When Daniel spoke his voice came out cracked and dry. "Guess you're right about time travel. They're both there. Balboa and the monk. That would explain the girl by the pool too."

"But why in Haunted Cave?" Jason asked. "I mean, why not in the woods or in the mine?"

"Maybe they are in the woods. And in the mine. And maybe even here in our room," Daniel said.

Jason felt a chill up his back. He resisted the urge to look under the bed. Then he shook his head. "There would be more stories about sightings if they showed up everywhere. It has to be something about the cave. From what Standing Bear said, I think he knows about them. Maybe he's even seen some himself."

"We better get some sleep," Daniel said. "If Dad hears us still up he'll be annoyed."

Jason climbed back into bed. As he drifted off to sleep his dreams were crowded with conquistadors, monks, and an Indian girl.

CHAPTER 14 - LOSE THE DAGGER

It was late when the boys came down to breakfast. Jason was limping slightly. His shin was bruised where he had banged it against the bed frame.

Matt looked up from the table and raised his eyebrows. "Rough night?"

Daniel flashed a weak smile. With a grimace, Jason eased himself into a chair. The smell of yeast and cinnamon made him sit up and look around as Rosalita set a plate of steaming rolls on the table. Icing ran down the sides of the rolls and pooled on the plate.

"Good thing you don't have bunk beds in that room," Matt said. "It would be hard to explain that to your mom. You don't walk in your sleep do you?"

Jason shook his head as he reached for a gooey roll. He licked the frosting off his fingers as he ate the nuts off around the outside. Daniel handed him a napkin.

As they ate breakfast, Matt said. "You got plans for today?"

"I think we'll hang out. Maybe do some exploring in the woods," Daniel said.

"Sounds good. After the cave tour today, your mom and I are visiting the University with Katie."

"She hasn't even graduated yet," Daniel said.

"We're talking to the drama teacher about her scholarship. You remember? She's up for a scholarship. Because of her grades."

"Yeah Dad. I remember," Daniel said.

"We won't be home till late. Can you boys stay out of trouble and fend for yourselves for dinner?"

"Sure Dad. Won't be any problem. Right Jason?"

"You bet. Don't worry about us," Jason said. He picked up a second cinnamon roll. Daniel handed him another napkin, and they headed upstairs.

It hadn't taken long for the boys' room to get muggy once the air conditioning was off. Jason flopped on the bed.

"Hey, I just finished making that," Daniel said. "And watch your sticky fingers." He smoothed the wrinkles out of the cover while Jason washed his hands.

"I got to thinking last night before going back to sleep. After you so rudely woke me up."

"About what?"

"The cave. Nita told you about petroglyphs. I think we should check them out. But we should go prepared this time."

"You mean in case Balboa comes back?"

"Him or someone else."

"Okay," Jason said, warming to the idea. "What did you have in mind?"

"If there are time travelers, there must be some kind of portal."

"Like in a science fiction movie?"

"Yeah, but I don't think they are coming through on purpose. Something opens or closes the portal, and they don't seem to realize they're in a different time."

"So what makes the portal open and close?"

"Maybe it only works when there's not a crowd around."

"Except Silas. Remember I saw him when he was a boy and the whole tour group was there," Jason said."So...maybe the crowd theory's not foolproof, but at least the one that got through wasn't very big." Daniel grinned. "We can't explore during the tour, but maybe some of the protective effect will linger for awhile. It's all we've got to go on. I say we start as soon as the bus leaves."

"Agreed. But we stick together. No splitting up."

Daniel dug out a couple backpacks. Jason held up the dagger.

"How about we get rid of this thing. We can start at the Turtle Island Shop and leave it with Standing Bear."

"Fine with me," Daniel said. He rubbed his thumb. "Hope that thing isn't infectious. Balboa didn't impress me as the cleanly type."

Jason wrapped the dagger in a hand towel and stuffed it in his pack. As they passed the front desk, they heard the roar of the tour bus pulling away. They jogged down the front steps and headed for Treasure Avenue.

When they entered the Turtle Island shop, Standing Bear looked up from his computer and waved them over. He opened a shallow drawer from the counter and took out the cross. With tender care, he laid it on the marble top.

"Before you tell us what you think about the cross, we have something else to give you," Jason said.

Standing Bear looked surprised and motioned to the countertop. "Please do," he said.

Jason slipped the bundle out of his pack. He placed it on the counter and unwound the towel leaving the dagger lying on the terrycloth. Standing Bear's eyes widened. "A conquistador dagger," he said. He picked it up and rotated it. Flashes of reflected light bounced around the room. He fixed his eyes on Jason and said, "From the cave?"

Before he could answer, the door to the shop opened. Jason glanced behind him and saw Victor Smith striding through the door. When he turned back, Standing Bear was closing the small drawer. The towel was still on the counter, but the dagger was nowhere to be seen.

"Good morning, Victor," Standing Bear said. "What brings you to my humble shop this beautiful day?"

Victor stepped up to the counter and eyed the cross. "Actually, the cross on your counter is the reason for my visit. Bradley suggested these boys bring the artifact to you for appraisal. As curator, I felt I should follow up."

"It's an excellent specimen, isn't it Victor?"

Victor's hand twitched as he smoothed back his hair.

Standing Bear picked up the cross. "The stones are authentic, and the craftsmanship is definitely late fifteenth century."

Victor's eyes glinted. "Then shouldn't it be protected?"

"Yes, but not as an artifact. It was made recently."

Victor frowned. "What do you mean?"

"It's the most authentic reproduction I've ever seen. If there were any signs of aging on it, I would declare it an original. But it simply can't be more than a couple years old."

"If someone is making forgeries, the museum is the best place to protect it as evidence."

"That's true – if it were a forgery. But no attempt has been made to simulate aging on the piece. It was never meant to pass as an ancient artifact. If you had the opportunity to examine it closely, I know you'd come to the same conclusion. No one of your experience would be fooled."

Victor's eyes flashed. He started to speak, but Standing Bear continued. "Still, the stones are authentic and the craftsmanship is excellent making it a valuable piece. I have agreed to hold it for safekeeping," he paused. "Until the police determine if an owner can be located." He met Victor's eyes and Jason felt the tug of wills between the two men as they faced each other. Finally Smith shrugged.

"Of course. If it's not an artifact then the museum should not be bothered with a trinket." He strode out of the shop.

Jason realized he had been holding his breath and let it out in rush. When he turned back to Standing Bear, he was startled to see the dagger once again nestled on the soft towel.

"This dagger also seems to be ageless," Standing Bear said. "I'd like to research it and see if the craftsmanship is as authentic to the time period as the first piece."

"You can keep it," Jason said. "It's too much like its previous owner."

Daniel rubbed his thumb, "I agree with that. Balboa was an ugly man and that's a nasty weapon."

Standing Bear looked from one to the other. "You know the story of Balboa?"

"We've been reading Treasure Town Treasures," Jason said.

"I know that book. It was written by a colleague of mine at the University. He did a lot of research in this area for it." He picked up the dagger and examined the handle. "It's big for a dagger. Probably designed for a big man with large hands."

"He was big all right," Daniel said. "Smelled like tobacco and...and..."

"Rum," Jason said. "And he had bad breath and missing teeth. Probably lost them in a fight."

"A real braggart," Daniel added.

"Greedy and a bully..." Jason stopped. There was an awkward silence.

Standing Bear had the hint of a smile as he said, "I'll have to reread that chapter. I don't recall my friend creating such a vivid image."

Jason wanted to get out of the shop before there were any questions he didn't want to answer. "Take your time researching the dagger. I don't think we want it back – do we Daniel?"

Daniel shook his head.

"Well, thanks for your help. We don't want to take up any more of your time." He started edging his way to the door.

"I was glad to help. Keep an eye out for McPherson – McPherson's treasure that is. There may be more than what Silas discovered."

As they hurried out the door they passed a table with an array of books. In the center sat the ceramic conquistador like a foreign general studying a new world that he wanted to conquer.

CHAPTER 15 - TRAPPED

As the door closed behind them, Daniel said, "Well that didn't end too well."

"We were doing fine until Balboa came up."

Daniel's face got red. "You were the one who mentioned the previous owner."

"Yeah, but I didn't call him by name."

"You didn't have to. It sounded like you'd met the guy."

"Well we did meet him," Jason retorted. "But you didn't have to say he smelled."

"Oh, you mean like when you said he had bad breath and smelled of rum?"

There was silence as they walked up the street, each alone in his own thoughts. Jason was feeling pretty stupid about the whole thing.

"I guess we both said too much," Daniel said.

"It just came out before I knew what was happening," Jason said. "It's almost like Standing Bear is a part of the cave and all the stuff that's going on there."

"Yeah, and what was that comment about McPherson? Was he telling us to look for McPherson or for McPherson's treasure?"

"Maybe both," Jason said. They came to the end of the street where the woods began.

"Dad's tour should be ending. If our theory is right it will be a good time to check out the cave without any – untimely visitors."

Jason groaned. "Let's go."

Under the trees the hot air was transformed into a refreshing breeze. It cooled down their bodies and their tempers. They arrived as the bus was pulling away. With flashlights in hand they entered the cave and headed down the passageway.

Jason pulled open the gate and led the way up the steps. He turned his flashlight on the wall and stopped in amazement.

"Look at this, Daniel. I don't know how we could have missed this before. The pictures go way up the wall."

"They either had ladders or were super tall. There must be hundreds of them."

"Here's a deer – and a man – looks like he's wearing a helmet. What's that one holding?"

"Looks like a spear."

Jason leaned forward and focused his light on an animal that looked like a buffalo. He reached out to touch it when he heard footsteps. He jerked his hand back and looked at Daniel. The footsteps stopped and they heard the rasping of metal against metal. Soundlessly, Daniel mouthed the word, "Balboa."

Jason pushed him toward a pillar. Switching off their flashlights, they crouched down behind it and peered through a crack where the pillar didn't quite meet the wall. It was pitch black for a moment, then Jason saw a dim glow. Was it a lantern, or were his eyes playing tricks? A loud clang was followed by a metallic clatter. Then the light faded, and the footsteps retreated leaving them in blackness.

"I think he's gone," Jason said softly.

Daniel whispered back, "Let's get out of here."

Jason flipped on his light and covered the end with his fingers letting just enough seep through so they could see where to walk. When they got to the gate, he removed his hand and stared in stunned disbelief. Daniel bumped into him and leaned around to see why he had stopped.

"What is it?"

The light shone on a modern glittering chain. It was wrapped around the bars on the gate and was secured with a large steel padlock. Forgetting all caution, Jason grabbed the bars and shook them. "Come back!" he yelled.

"Let us out!" Daniel shouted as he added his strength to shaking the gate. The noise of their shouting mixed with the rattling of the chain against the bars. The sounds echoed and reverberated throughout the chamber. Jason sat down in a heap with one last angry shout.

Daniel leaned against the gate and slid down to the ground. After a few moments of silence he flipped off his light. The room instantly became gloomy and shadows filled the corners.

"We better conserve the batteries and just use one light," he said.

"What about your cell phone? Can't we call for help?" Jason said.

"Probably won't work in the cave. Doesn't even work in the woods outside."

While Jason leaned over his shoulder Daniel dialed the number. The screen flashed the message, No Service. Jason slumped back and wrapped his arms around his knees.

"And no one's going to be home to miss us until late tonight. They're all at the university."

"That's just great," Daniel said. "Just my luck to have a smart sister. There's another tour tomorrow, but it's going to be a long night."

Jason climbed up the steps and pointed his light down the passageway. It was no longer a place of exciting adventure. He didn't like the idea of spending the night there. The petroglyphs had faded into the shadows, and he felt his mood slipping into melancholy as he listed to the water dripping into the pool.

"As long as we're trapped here, let's see what's at the end of the tunnel," Jason said. Anything was better than just waiting for the batteries to run out he thought.

"There isn't any light if that's what you're looking for."

"Well we can't just sit here all night waiting for someone to come let us out." Then he added, "I hope no one dangerous appears on our side of the gate."

"That's a pleasant thought," Daniel said as got up and scrambled up the steps. "Okay, you convinced me. Let's explore."

They moved down to the pool, and Jason scanned the wall with his light. As it flowed over the surface he spotted a petroglyph high up on the wall.

"Look at that. It's a bird."

"That's an eagle," Daniel said.

"An eagle," Jason repeated. "Like in the poem.

The golden age is over

And the eagle from her height,

Soars above the hidden nest

Suspended in her flight,

A guardian of the golden quest

Concealed by endless night."

"You memorized that?" Daniel said. "I'm impressed."

"Well, yeah. I thought it would come in handy. And see," he said and pointed. "There's the eagle. We have to find a way across the pool. Nita said it's just a few inches deep."

"You taking the first step?" Daniel asked.

Jason looked down into the depths of the pool and pictured the water closing over his head as he tumbled through its depths. He thought about diving through the caverns. Swimming around the maze of formations looking for a way through to the other side as his lungs strained for air.

He inhaled deeply and realized he had been holding his breath. He pulled a coin out of his pocket.

"Let's see how far it falls," he said. It landed with a plop sending out ripples. When he reached in and picked up the coin, only his fingers got wet. The illusion was broken.

He looked across the pool to the back wall. It didn't seem very far. The tops of several rocks were just beneath the surface.

"Here. Hold this," Jason said handing Daniel the flashlight. Balancing and waving his arms, he stepped from rock to rock.

"Okay smartie. What do you do when you get to the wall?" Daniel asked.

"I do not do this because it is hard. I do this because it is easy." He swayed and teetered in an effort to keep his balance.

"You certainly make it look easy."

Jason reached the wall with a quick hop onto a thin ledge. He rested his hands on the wet, oily wall while balancing on one foot.

"Hey. The wall with the eagle is not the end of the path. There's a passage back here." His hands began to slip. With a cry of alarm he jumped to one side and managed to land on a dry flat rock.

"Gracefully done," Daniel said, clapping his hands. "Is there really a tunnel back there?"

"It looks like it. Maybe it's a way out. Toss me the light and I'll check it out."

"No way. We're sticking together, remember? I'm coming over. Make room."

"Wait..."

But Daniel was already stepping across the rocks. Jason squeezed behind the wet wall, and Daniel jumped up to the spot he had just vacated. Together they started down the tunnel that stretched off into the darkness.

Once past the opening, it was wide enough for them to walk side by side. To their left was solid rock. The wall on their right was unpredictable. It rolled along like a wave, towering over their heads and then suddenly dropping down to below their knees. They tried looking over it, but the light couldn't penetrate the depths.

The path narrowed and began going uphill. Jason took the lead. It was unnerving when drops of water from the ceiling hit his arm or face. Occasionally there was an arch of solid rock over the path, and they had to duck to get through. He slowed his pace. It wouldn't do to hit his head and knock himself out. Then suddenly a barrier of stone rose up in front of them, and the path stopped abruptly.

"Dead end," he said. His shoulders slumped, and he leaned against the wall to let Daniel look past him.

"Can you see over it?" Daniel said.

The slab was rough, and Jason found a toehold to step up and look over. "The path goes on. We just have to climb over this wall."

"I'm not sure we should keep going farther into the cave. If someone does come to let us out, we don't want to miss them."

"We can't stop now," Jason said. "The eagle shows we're on the right track. It can't be too far. Let's go a little farther."

As he stepped down, his foot landed on something soft and it moved. His foot slipped and with a startled yelp he fell. The flashlight flew out of his hand, and clattered over the side down a deep crevice. There was a series of bangs as it bounced off the rocks. Each bang was like a physical blow. A faint tinkling of glass left them once again in blackness. A darkness so complete it was like a presence.

"You dropped the light!"

"There's something alive in here. I stepped on some animal." He heard Daniel rustling through his pack. "Hurry up. It's still here. I can smell it." He squinted his eyes shut as Daniel pointed the flashlight at him.

"On the path. Put it on the path. Whatever it is, it was big."

"Okay, okay." He panned the light around and stopped. "There's your animal."

The light revealed a large bundle pressed up against the wall. It was dirty and lumpy. Jason poked it with his foot. He gave a yelp as it shifted. It tipped, and with a soft clink slipped to one side.

Daniel chuckled. "I think it's a saddlebag. It doesn't smell too nice, but it won't bite."

"Easy for you to say. Let me hold the light and you open it."

"No way. You dropped your light. I'm keeping this one. You go ahead and check it out."

Jason pulled on the bundle. It was heavy and felt gritty. He tugged harder. It moved a few inches and there was a clinking sound. He struggled to unfasten the buckles.

"Bring the light closer," he said as he lifted the flap. Inside were lots of smaller bags, each tied with a string. He pulled one out and placed it on his lap. The smell of dusty old leather and decaying burlap assaulted his nose.

"What's in it?" Daniel asked.

Jason rubbed his nose. He shook the bag and heard the clinking sound again. He looked up at Daniel and his eyes were bright. Then he broke into a grin, and set the bag down.

"Sounds like coins!" His fingers felt fat and clumsy as he fumbled with the string.

"It could be something else you know," Daniel said. "We could be wrong." He leaned forward and pointed the light at the bag.

"No way. This is my future. This is the answer to everything. If I can just get the stupid string...." He gave it a vicious yank. The bag burst open sending up a cloud of dust that made him sneeze. Coins tumbled out, spilled over him, and rolled across the ground. Daniel caught one and shone a light on it.

"Well?" Jason said as he rubbed his sleeve across his face. He scooped up coins and let them dribble through his fingers. "What is it?"

"It's heavy, yellow, and says United States of America. It has an eagle on it. I think we're onto something." He flipped the coin over. "Dated 1857."

"Eagle cave. Eagle coins. McPherson's treasure," Jason whispered. "There really is a gold treasure. We found it."

"How many bags are in there?"

"Lots. He picked up the coins and started stuffing them back in the bag."

"You know we'll never be able to carry that out of here," Daniel said.

"I have to," Jason said. "We can go slow. I can drag it."

"We're down to one light, and we don't know where this tunnel leads. We may have to backtrack and wait at the gate for rescue."

Jason set his jaw and clenched the bag. "I can't just leave it here."

"It's been in this spot for 150 years. It's not going anywhere. The gate is locked. No one knows it's here except you and me. I don't think anyone even knows this tunnel exists."

Jason let his grip loosen a bit. He knew Daniel was right. He could barely move the saddlebags, let alone carry them for any distance. He was amazed that McPherson had managed to get it this far.

"I'm taking this bag at least."

"Fine," Daniel said. "We'll both take one, and whatever happens we'll have that much." He held out his hand.

"Okay," Jason agreed reluctantly. As he handed over a bag, a paper drifted down to the floor. While Daniel was checking out his bag of coins, Jason tried to read the paper in the dim light.

"This looks like a receipt of some kind, but I can't read it."

"Here," Daniel said. "I'll put it in with my coins and we'll read it later."

Jason shoved the saddlebags up against the wall and stood up. "McPherson came this way. He either backtracked or this tunnel leads somewhere."

Let's get going while we still have light," Daniel said. This time I get to lead."

Jason looked longingly at the corner where he knew the saddlebags lay hidden in the darkness. He forced himself to turn away. With reluctance, he scrambled over the wall after Daniel, and they made their way along a winding passage.

"Hey, I think there's light up ahead," Daniel said.

"Turn off your light for a minute and..."

"Whoa!" Daniel interrupted. Flinging his arms about, he tried to catch his balance. The light bounced around revealing glimpses of the walls. Jason realized they were on a precipice. The crumbling edge dissolved beneath Daniel's weight. A stream of gravel cascaded down into the depths below as his foot slipped over the edge. Jason grabbed frantically, and his fingers fastened on the backpack. Something flew past his head and brushed his cheek. With a cry he ducked his head as a bat flew up the passage. Tightening his grip, he jerked hard. As Daniel tried to catch himself, the flashlight flew from his hand and went spinning across the path.

He twisted sideways and scrambled for a foothold. His fingers latched onto Jason's arm, but his weight inched them closer to the edge. Jason's foot slammed up against a rock. Pain shot up his leg, but their forward slide stopped. He braced himself and pulled. Daniel's foot finally caught on firm ground, and they tumbled away from the edge breathing hard.

"It's a drop off," Daniel said. "I almost stepped off into the abyss." His hand was shaking as he reached for the light. Somehow, it still worked.

"You okay?" Jason said as he took the light.

"I think so." His voice quivered. "Be careful. It's a long drop."

Jason crawled over to the edge and looked down. He turned off the flashlight. Above him a hole in the roof let in daylight that illuminated the chamber down below. He stared at it in disbelief.

"It's the main chamber," he said over his shoulder.

Daniel crept up beside him and looked down. "That's where Dad does the tours," he said. "Look. There's the rock he stands on to tell McPherson's story and there's the torch on the wall behind it."

"We must be on the ledge where McPherson spent the night."

"You know what this means?" Daniel said. "McPherson didn't climb up here in the middle of the night. He took the tunnel. He made that part up to keep the treasure hid."

Jason nodded. "He wasn't able to lift the treasure over that wall, so he left it back there in the passageway. That means there has to be a path up to the hole in the roof."

He looked around and saw that the next few feet of the path were narrow and led along the edge of the precarious drop off. Suddenly he felt clammy and light headed as he pictured falling down that rocky wall into the dim depths of the cavern below. He took a shaky breath and pointed.

"If we can make it over that short space, I'll bet this path leads outside. Do we want to try it?"

Daniel's face was grim, but he nodded.

They picked their way up the trail, testing each step as they went. Small pebbles were dislodged and rattled over the edge, but soon they were within the safety of a sheltering wall. From there it was amazingly simple to follow the path as it wound steadily upward to the opening in the roof.

Before reaching the outside world there was a wide shelf that formed a natural platform overlooking the cave. The afternoon sun poured through the opening, creating a spotlight effect below. The chamber was the stage, and they had box seats to the show.

With a sharp intake of breath, Jason grabbed Daniel's arm and pointed. Below, a figure dressed in armor stood in the shadows. "Balboa," he whispered.

"He couldn't have locked us in," Daniel said softly. "The lock is modern."

Balboa turned and faced the opening that led to the gate.

"What's he looking at?" Jason said.

The faint sound of plodding footsteps reached their perch. All three sets of eyes now watched the opening. A figure emerged into the light carrying a heavy load across his shoulders. Jason's grip tightened on Daniel's arm as he recognized the saddlebags.

Daniel clapped a hand over his mouth and hissed in his ear, "Quiet."

Jason's shoulders slumped in dismay. Daniel dropped his hand. The figure below was Victor Smith.

Despair flooded over Jason as he saw his treasure being carried away out of his reach. All he had were the two bags they had carried out. For 150 years that treasure had waited to be discovered. He had held it in his hands, and now it was gone.

Smith stopped. His breathing was heavy and labored. The ringing sound of a sword being drawn reminded them of Balboa's presence. He stepped out of the shadows and stood before Smith with the light gleaming on the metal blade.

"What have we here?" Balboa said with a grin. Jason remembered his missing teeth and could almost smell his bad breath.

Smith looked him up and down. "You're a very bad actor, and we're a long way from the theater. Step out of my way. I don't have time for games." He made a move to go around him.

Balboa took a quick sidestep to block his path. "Not so fast. Leave your burden and you can pass by unhindered." He leveled his sword, and the two stood facing each other.

Jason saw his treasure slipping further and further out of his reach. Smith had to surrender the saddlebags. What choice was there? Balboa would carry it into the past where it would be lost forever. He barely heard the noise of the zipper as Daniel opened his pack.

Smith shifted the saddlebags, and the onyx ring flashed in the dim light. Balboa let out a cry. "My ring! How is it that you have stolen my ring?" He waved the sword at Smith's hand. "I'll have the burden you are carrying and my ring into the bargain." His voice dropped to a menacing growl. "Hand them over."

Smith straightened up and sneered at him. "This ring is a valuable artifact. I found it years ago when I first started searching for this accursed treasure. I'm not giving any of it up to some cheap actor hired for a road show. I say again, step aside."

"Then you choose to die," Balboa said. He raised the sword and swung it. Smith's eyes got large with fright as he saw the sword flashing toward him. He managed to duck, and the flat of the sword crashed against the saddlebag with a jarring thud. He fell to his knees. As he struggled to stand, Balboa stuck again. The blow hit the saddlebag and slid down, gashing his thigh. Smith cried out in pain and fell, grabbing his leg. In stunned disbelief, he stared at his hand covering the torn cloth. Blood oozed between his fingers and around the ring.

He looked up to see Balboa towering over him. Beyond the conquistador's massive bulk, he saw the two boys looking down. Balboa's eyes gleamed. As he raised the sword he said, "That which you hold is now mine."

Jason screamed. Balboa looked up. Jason saw movement beside him as Daniel stepped up to the edge and threw something. Time seemed to stop for Jason as he watched the bag of coins fall through the air. He flinched and shuddered as the bag crashed into Balboa's helmet, exploding in a shower of yellow pellets that scattered around the room. A piece of paper fluttered to the side and drifted to the ground. Balboa reeled from the blow. His sword clattered to the ground and spun into the shadows.

As he struggled to keep his balance, the familiar ripple distorted his image. He staggered toward Smith with a howl of rage. Smith threw up his arm in a weak defense. The ripples became denser and Balboa disappeared. It was suddenly quiet in the cave.

Smith lowered his shaking arm and looked around confused. With difficulty, he pulled out his handkerchief and tied it around the wound. He struggled to his feet and dragged the saddlebags over his shoulder. Looking up he waved.

"Thanks for the help. And thanks for the treasure."

Jason clenched his hands into fists. "That's my treasure!" he shouted. "You wouldn't even be alive if Daniel hadn't helped you."

"What claim do you have to this treasure?" Smith said. "It's cost me twenty years of my life." He glanced around the room. "But you can keep the change for your trouble."

He watched with a feeling of helplessness as Smith staggered out of the cave. Jason turned and scrambled through the opening in the cave roof and emerged into the fresh air. Daniel stood beside him on the top of the hill. Far below the road wound off into the distance. They were in time to see a gray Miata speeding away.

Jason moaned. "There goes Smith with my treasure."

CHAPTER 16 - KEEP THE CHANGE

I guess we should go down and pick up the change,"

Daniel said with an attempt at a laugh.

Jason looked at him. "We had it. There was a treasure, and we had it in our hands. He just walked off with it."

"Come on," Daniel said. "There may not be much left, but we don't want anyone else to wander through and scoop it up."

They picked their way down the side of the hill, and Jason clenched his fists.

"I could have carried another bag," he said. "Maybe even two more."

Tuffs of grass pulled at his shoes. Something was always holding him back. He felt helpless. Helpless about the move. Helpless about keeping the treasure. The weeds thinned out, and his feet crunched on loose gravel. He kicked a rock, and his foot slipped. Twisting around he tried to catch his balance, but landed on his arm and scraped his elbow.

Daniel started to offer him help, but he scrambled to his feet and brushed off the dirt. He was hot and sweaty and barely felt the scratches.

They finally reached the cave opening, and Daniel switched on his flashlight. The light revealed wet spots on the ground. Jason realized it was blood. Real blood. Suddenly the gold didn't seem quite so important.

"His leg must have been cut bad by the sword," he said. "That's why he was limping."

"Let's get the coins and get out," Daniel said. "I don't want to be here if Balboa comes back."

Jason's scratched arm began to throb. His fingers were cold and ached, and his mind was numb as they gathered up all the coins they could find. He was careful not to step on any of the dark wet spots as they left the cave. He thought back to their first meeting with Balboa when he waved the dagger at them. It hadn't seemed so real then.

They hurried out of the cave. The warm afternoon sun felt good, and he finally stopped shaking.

"You okay?" Daniel said.

Jason nodded. "I guess we should let someone know he's hurt."

"Mom and Dad won't be home for hours."

"It looks like he's losing a lot of blood. Where do you think he was heading?"

"Let's check the museum. If we don't find him there, we'll talk to Bradley."

"Is it still open?"

Daniel glanced at his watch. "We should have enough time."

They tried to hurry, but their legs were tired. Jason felt like they had been walking for hours. The warmth that had felt so good now became oppressive, and the weight of the coins added to their discomfort.

"What are we going to say when we get there?" Daniel asked. "We can't say he was attacked by a ghost."

"How about someone dressed up in armor?"

"Do we mention the gold?"

"Not yet," Jason said.

"It's not stolen. I mean we found it. It should belong to us."

"It should belong to us, but we're just kids. They may not let us keep it. Once Smith tells everyone about the treasure, they may want us to give up the coins we have."

When they got to the museum, there was no sign of the sports car. The gift shop clerk was locking the door.

"Wait!" Jason shouted as he hobbled up the steps.

She looked up and scowled. "We're closed," she said. Stepping back inside she pulled the door shut. Jason caught the handle before it latched.

"Let go of the door," she snapped. "I told you we're closed. No barging through lines this time."

"But Mr. Smith is hurt," Jason said. "We need to talk to Bradley."

"None of your tricks this time, young man. You probably don't even know Mr. Smith. And Bradley is gone for the day!" She yanked on the door snapping the dead lock into place. He saw her satisfied smirk through the smoked glass. "Come back tomorrow," came her muffled voice. He pounded on the door, but she turned and walked down the hall.

He slumped back to where Daniel was waiting. "Now what?"

"How about Standing Bear?"

They trudged over to Treasure Avenue. Only the restaurants were still open. They stopped in front of the Turtle Island shop. Jason tried to catch his breath as he tugged on the door. It wouldn't open.

Daniel pushed him aside and squeezed the latch. Jason noticed his shirt was wet. "You're sweating," he said.

"And you're not?" He swung the door open and air conditioning swept over them.

"I was just closing...." Standing Bear said as he looked toward the door. He stopped when he saw the boys. "What's wrong?"

"Smith has been hurt," Jason blurted out.

Standing Bear stiffened. "Where is he?"

"We don't know," Daniel said. "But we think he's bleeding."

"He drove off in his car, but he's not at the museum."

"Bradley's not there either so we came to you."

A look of anxiety crossed Standing Bear's face. "Bradley? What happened to Bradley? Is he hurt?"

Jason shook his head.

Standing Bear took a deep breath and said, "Let's start over. Why don't you tell me everything."

Jason began with how they were exploring the cave and found the passageway behind the pool. Standing Bear looked surprised but said, "Go on."

He told about getting to the top and looking down into the main chamber. Then they saw Smith and someone dressed in armor.

Jason hesitated. "It was Balboa," he said. Standing Bear met his eyes and nodded.

"They argued," Jason continued. "Balboa attacked Smith with his sword but he got away. He escaped in his car and Balboa disappeared. It took us awhile to get down the hill and around to the front of the cave. There was blood on the ground."

"Balboa must have cut him with the sword," Daniel said.

"I'll call the police and ask them to meet us at the cave," Standing Bear said.

They found chairs and sat down while Standing Bear made the call. Jason wanted to take off his shoes. His feet were hot, and his legs felt like lead. Daniel didn't look like he felt much better.

Standing Bear locked up the shop and led the way to his pickup truck. As they sped toward the cave, Jason's stomach rumbled. He realized it had been hours since they had eaten anything.

The police car was already there when they pulled up to the bus stop. They entered the cave and Daniel turned the lights on. The officers walked around the chamber taking notes and speaking in low murmurs among themselves.

Jason sidestepped the blood spots and followed Daniel into the center of the chamber. It all seemed like a bad dream. Standing Bear stooped down, picked up a slip of paper, and tucked it in his pocket.

Before Jason could say something to Daniel, one of the policemen said, "Here's the weapon!"

They all rushed over. Several large flashlights lit up the dark corner. A sword lay up against the wall where it had landed when Balboa disappeared. The blade was stained, and Jason turned his head away.

"I think I'll take the boys to get some dinner if you won't be needing us anymore," Standing Bear said to one of the policemen. He nodded absentmindedly.

They stopped for hamburgers and shakes on the way back to the Silver Lode. Standing Bear was very interested in the passageway and the ledge where Daniel had slipped. He asked about the petroglyphs and if there were any artifacts in the passageway.

It was starting to get dark when he dropped them off at the hotel. As Jason slung his backpack over his shoulder the coins shifted, and there was a clinking sound. Standing Bear raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Thanks for dinner," Jason said quickly. He swung the door closed and stepped back. Standing Bear put the truck in gear. Before driving away he said, "I'll let you know if I hear anything about Smith."

The boys hurried upstairs. Jason dropped his pack on the bed. "Well how was I supposed to know the coins were going to shift like that? Do you think he suspects anything?"

"Not now. But what happens when they find Smith? They'll know there was a treasure and wonder why we didn't say something. Why didn't we say something?"

"This is all we have left of the treasure! I don't want to lose this too." He collapsed on the bed. "Everything's wrong. We should have had the whole treasure. Now the police are involved. Smith might be bleeding to death somewhere out on the highway, and Standing Bear wonders why I didn't tell him everything."

Daniel laughed. "We can't just spend the treasure. We'll have to tell someone about it sooner or later."

Jason sat up. "We could sell the coins on E-Bay. You know, setup a PayPal account."

"Too hard to explain to Dad."

"How about an ad in a treasure magazine?"

"I can imagine the commotion that would cause. We'd have to pay for the ad up front and explain where we got a bag of gold coins."

"How about getting Standing Bear to be our agent," Jason said.

"Now that's a possibility. We'd have to tell him the whole story though."

There was a knock on the door, and Matt looked in. "We're back. Bradley said you boys had quite an adventure today. Are you okay?"

"Bradley? How did Bradley get involved? What did he say?" Daniel asked.

"Standing Bear told him the whole story. He called Katie because he was worried about you guys. Are you sure you're okay? Have you had supper?"

"We're fine. Standing Bear took us out for burgers."

"Well, clean up and come down. Your mom's worried about you, but I don't want her to see you looking like that."

They changed clothes and hurried down. When they entered the room, Rosalita rushed over. She fussed over them and hugged them tight, wrapping one arm around each of them and crushing them to her. Even Katie came over and hugged them both.

In the middle of the commotion Matt called, "Hey, it looks like you made the news. Come and hear."

He turned up the TV. A stylish young woman stood at the entrance to the cave. There was a breeze, and one strand of hair kept sweeping across her face. She stared into the camera with wide eyes. Her voice was animated as she emphasized all her points.

"Not only were spots of what appears to be blood found at the entrance to the cave, but the police have reported finding a sword inside. Two witnesses, whose identities have not been released, reported that Victor Smith, the curator of Treasure Town Museum, was attacked by a strange person wearing armor." She rolled her eyes and drawled out the next few words. "But the story gets even more bizarre."

The picture on the screen switched to a raging river. The camera zoomed in on the wreckage of the gray Miata. Jason cringed.

The voice of the reporter continued. "Just a few hours ago, Mr. Smith was rescued from this flood of furious water. Officers think he was thrown from the car when it crashed into the river. The strong current carried him about a mile downstream. Fortunately his shirt was caught and entangled in the branches of a tree that had fallen in the water. When the rescuers found him, he was unconscious. They flew him to shock trauma where he's being treated for a concussion."

The camera switched back to the reporter. She leaned toward the camera and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial tone. "They also found a long gash on his leg that seems to be complicated by a serious case of – frostbite."

Katie sniffed. "Frostbite? That's pretty unlikely. She's all sensationalism." The station went to a commercial and she switched off the TV.

"They never mentioned the chain on the gate," Matt said.

"It wasn't there when the police arrived," Daniel said.

Rosalita's voice trembled as she said, "Who would do such a horrible thing to children?"

Jason and Daniel exchanged looks of amusement.

"Maybe he was protecting the petroglyphs, or wanted to keep everyone out so he could explore the tunnel himself," Katie said.

A scowl crossed Matt's face. "And not heard them calling for help? It's more likely that whoever it was had a more sinister motive. Maybe he wanted to force the boys to explore it for him."

"That's enough," Rosalita said. "It's been a long day. I think we all should get some sleep, and we'll talk it over in the morning."

When the boys got back to their room Jason opened the window. There was a warm breeze that carried the promise of rain. Occasional lightening flashed across the sky.

He was tired, but the gold pulled at him. He loosened the string on the bag and took out a handful of coins. They were heavy as he poured them through his fingers from one hand to the other. He passed one to Daniel.

"The eagle is almost three dimensional," Jason said as he examined one of the coins. The lamplight reflected off its gleaming surface as he turned it over.

"How much do you think they're worth?" Daniel asked.

"Twenty years."

"What?"

"He said they had cost him twenty years," Jason said.

Daniel gazed at his coin. "The news didn't say anything about the saddlebags with the rest of the gold. I wonder if he had it with him, or if he stashed it somewhere."

"Or maybe they just didn't report it."

"Maybe."

The curtains flapped in the breeze like a visitor tapping on the window. Jason said, "What do you think Uncle Matt will say when we show him the coins?"

Daniel grinned. "Well, at first he'll find them pretty interesting. Once the excitement dies down, he'll talk about saving for college. That's what he always thinks about. Since I'm not likely to get a scholarship like Katie."

A cricket chirped outside as a soft rain started falling. Then Daniel said, "So we're going to tell the whole story tomorrow?"

Jason nodded. "The whole story."

CHAPTER 17 - CONSPIRACY THEORIES

The rain stopped sometime in the early morning hours. By the time everyone got up, the day was cool and clear.

The French toast cooled and turned stale while everyone sifted through the bags of coins. Jason was relived once they had told the whole story. Daniel was right about Uncle Matt. After he got over the initial excitement of the rare coins, his thoughts jumped to the practical matter of funding college. The coins were locked in the hotel safe, and Aunt Rosalita made a new batch of French toast.

Matt suggested they take one of the coins to Standing Bear to get his opinion on its value.

Silas was just coming out of the store when the boys arrived at the Turtle Island Gift shop. The heavy door thumped closed behind him.

"See any ghosts out at Haunted Cave?" Silas asked with a sly grin.

"Maybe," Jason said.

Silas cackled. "Been doing a little treasure hunting myself." He winked and whispered, "Found some gold." His rasping laugh faded into a wheeze.

"Gold?" Jason said.

"Yep. I'm going to go down in history. I made a donation to the museum. They're going to make up one of those engraved plaques with my name on it. Isn't that something?"

"That's great," Jason said.

He eyed Jason with a gleam in his eye. "It took me awhile to remember where I saw your face. But you can't fool old Silas for long. Saw you in the cave when I was a lad. You seem to have a connection to the treasure."

Jason felt the hair stand up on his neck. The old man grinned, and his gold tooth glittered. For a moment Jason could see the young boy with the missing tooth.

"What did you donate?" Daniel asked.

"The shiniest gold half eagle you ever saw. I'm sure it was from that other bag I saw McPherson taking off the mule. Don't know what happened to the rest of it, but it proves I was right all along. There was another treasure. A gold treasure." He ambled off up the street toward his old truck talking to himself. "Yep, Silas. They thought you was crazy, but they'll think differently now."

"I guess we didn't find all the coins," Daniel said.

He tugged on the door, and they went in. Nita walked up from the back of the store. Her dark hair slid over one shoulder as she tipped her head and smiled at Jason.

"Are you out making ice cream deliveries?"

Jason gave her a hesitant grin. Was she making fun of him?

"We're here to see Standing Bear," Daniel said. "We'd like to get his opinion on a coin."

She made a face. "Seems to be a popular thing this morning. He's in the back with Bradley." She looked at Jason. "I'm on my way out to make some deliveries that won't melt." She scooped up a package. "If you're around this afternoon I could drop in for a Strike It Rich Sundae."

Jason nodded, but couldn't think of anything to say. She waved and slipped out the door.

Daniel gave him a questioning look. "A Strike It Rich Sundae?"

"Yeah. A...marketing tool...you know...a little ambiance."

"Uh huh. Very creative. Seems to be a hit."

"Let's find Standing Bear."

As they neared the back of the store they heard voices. The door was ajar and Standing Bear was talking.

"This is a very good forgery. It will fool all but the most observant. How many of these have replaced the real pieces in the museum?"

"So far about a dozen."

"And you're sure no one suspects?"

"I don't think so," Bradley said. "No one but me seems to be the wiser."

Jason and Daniel exchanged looks of surprise as they backed away from the door. Jason whispered, "Standing Bear used to be friends with Smith. Are they all stealing from the museum?"

"Bradley wouldn't steal," Daniel whispered back.

Jason wanted to believe that, but he couldn't forget seeing Bradley put artifacts in his pockets.

Bradley's voice drifted faintly from the room. "Now that Smith is out of the way, it should make things easier."

"Yes, and I've been asked to fill in as temporary curator. That will mean we won't have to be so secretive."

Daniel tugged on his sleeve and motioned to the front door. Jason nodded and turned. A wind chime display suddenly loomed in front of him. Before he knew what was happening his foot bumped the rack. It swayed back and forth, and all the chimes rattled musically. He looked up and saw the ceramic conquistador wobbling on the top. Its menacing eyes stared down at him. Then there was a mass of noise as tinkling glass, rattling wood, and clinking brass all clanked together. With a gasp he reached for the conquistador, but it escaped his grasp and shattered on the floor.

Standing Bear and Bradley rushed out into the room. They all stood staring at each other with the soft sound of recorded music playing in the background.

"What happened?" Bradley asked.

Jason stood the rack up, but the wind chimes were a tangled mess. His face was red as he faced them. "Are you helping Smith steal from the museum?"

Bradley exchanged looks with Standing Bear.

"I didn't want to believe it about you," Jason said. "Not even when I saw you put those things in your pocket. I wanted to believe there was another reason. You have to return all that stuff to the museum."

"We have to find it first," Bradley said softly.

"That's what the university is paying us to do," Standing Bear said. "Bradley has been working undercover for the last year. We suspect Smith has been stealing the artifacts and replacing them with forgeries, but we haven't been able to prove it."

Jason let out his breath in a rush. "Then you really aren't stealing from the museum?"

Standing Bear shook his head. "You can talk to the university and the police chief if you want to check out my story."

The relief he felt was quickly replaced with embarrassment as he looked down at the mess on the floor. "I'm sorry about the conquistador. I tried to catch it."

"Don't worry about it. It wasn't one of my favorite pieces. No matter where I put him, he never sold a thing."

After they cleaned up the mess and straightened the display, they went in the back room. Daniel pulled out the coin.

"Second one today," Standing Bear said. "Silas was here earlier and brought in one of these. Same year and mintmark. He wanted to donate it to the museum."

"Seems a bit coincidental to have two of these rare coins show up the same day," Bradley said. "Why don't you tell us the rest of the story?"

After they told how they found and lost the treasure, they speculated on where Silas found the coin.

"He must have been to the cave and found one we missed," Daniel said. "We were in a big hurry to get out."

Standing Bear pulled out the paper he had picked up in the cave. "This is a receipt from 1857. It's written to Peter McPherson from the Dahlonega mint."

"That's the paper that was in the saddlebag. It fell out when I dropped the bag of coins on Balboa," Daniel said.

"I believe it refers to the Cherokee treasure I have been searching for," Standing Bear said.

"The treasure was coins?" Jason asked.

"Not originally. This was the last clue in a long search, but I think I have finally put all the pieces together. I believe McPherson found the Cherokee gold on his farm. He took it to the Dahlonega mint in Georgia and had it melted down and minted into what are called half eagle coins. Because of the low number of coins struck that year at that mint, these are each worth a fortune."

"The question," Bradley said, "is what happened to the saddlebags that Smith took?"

CHAPTER 18 - FULL CIRCLE

It was several days later before they heard any news about Smith. The family had just finished dinner and was having dessert when Bradley stopped in.

"The doctor asked me to come by the hospital today," Bradley said. "Victor seems to have a case of amnesia caused by the concussion. They wanted to see if he recognized me."

"How did it go?" Matt asked.

"He seemed to remember everything about his work at the museum, but he can't recall anything about the day of the accident." He looked at the boys. "He's not going to be able to verify your story about the fight and the treasure."

"Then he doesn't know where the treasure is?" Jason said.

"Not that he's saying. The doctor is convinced he can't remember. Either way, he's not likely to tell us what happened to it."

Rosalita looked in. "Standing Bear called to tell us to turn on the news. Says there's a segment coming up that we will find interesting."

As the others crowded into the room with the TV, Bradley stood in the doorway with his arm around Katie. Jason nudged Daniel and said, "Now we won't be able to prove that Smith took the map."

"I still think it was Silas," Daniel said.

They squeezed between the couple, getting a wink from Bradley and an annoyed look from Katie. They flopped on the floor in front of the TV as the commercial ended, and the lady reporter came on.

"It seems that Treasure Town is not the only place to find a fortune. While many people visit the Cherokee Gold Casino and try their luck at the slot machines, the best place to strike it rich may be knee deep in the fast flowing river a few miles east."

The camera panned away from the reporter and gave an aerial view of the river. "Just a few days ago this was the tragic site of an unfortunate accident where a car went off the embankment and crashed into the river. But today it is the site of a celebration. A sort of modern day gold rush."

The camera showed dozens of people standing at the river's edge with metal detectors. The picture then jumped back to the reporter and a middle aged man.

"This is Robert Sparrow, the manager at the casino here on the reservation. So tell me about these coins that you and the others are finding."

"My daughter found the first one," he said beaming at a small girl leaning against him. She held up the coin, and he gently moved her hand so the camera could focus on the coin. The light glinted off a large ring on his finger.

"Look at that!" Daniel said.

"It's Smith's ring," Bradley said stepping into the room.

"I've found several of these coins and many others here are finding more," Mr. Sparrow said. "We have temporarily closed the casino and sealed off the area."

"So, only the Native Americans who live on this reservation are being allowed to search for the coins?"

"Yes, that's true. We think that maybe the recent heavy rains washed out a cache of coins that was buried near the river shortly before the Civil War."

Everyone in the room started talking at once drowning out the TV, and the rest of the report was forgotten.

"He must have had the saddlebags with him in the car."

"That was his ring."

"The coins must have washed downstream."

"Guess there's no chance of us getting any more of the treasure," Daniel said.

"It originally belonged to the Cherokee. I guess it's come full circle," Jason said.

After breakfast the next morning, Daniel went to his Spanish class. As Jason left the hotel, he saw people checking out and packing their cars. Vacations were over and they were heading home.

The clear morning and cool breeze reminded him of the coming fall. In a week he too would be flying home. Not to the house where he grew up, but to a different house in a different city.

The scorching heat of the past couple weeks had lifted, and his mood had lightened. Soon he would be exploring the strange old house his parents had rented. He was curious to see all the rooms and pick out one for himself. There were new trails in the park to explore and maybe, just maybe, he could be part of a real archeological dig.

He sauntered up the museum steps. The doors were open, but he had the place to himself. He gave the gift shop a cautious look, but the store was dark. It wouldn't open for another hour.

The soft padding of his sneakers seemed loud as he strolled through the rooms looking at the exhibits. Next to a window a new display had been set up. It was labeled, Items Found in Haunted Cave.

Silas' gold coin sat perched on a small pedestal with a brass plate screwed into the base. In fancy lettering it listed Silas as the donor.

The sword found by the police had been cleaned up, and it now lay in the bottom of the case. Balboa's dagger was mounted to the back wall. A natural sandstone frame held the Dahlonega mint receipt. He leaned forward to read the faint print. A shadow flickered across the glass, and he glanced up to see a hand resting on the dagger. For a moment he thought it was Balboa gripping the handle. With a sharp intake of breath, he bolted upright. The image wavered. With a cry, he jerked his hand back from where he had been leaning on the glass, and the image disappeared.

Breathing heavily, he realized it had only been a reflection of his own hand resting against the display glass. He pressed his hand against his chest where the cross lay hidden under his shirt. It rubbed against his skin, but he didn't want to take it off until he got home.

When he got back to the hotel, the commotion of the early risers had diminished. He dropped down into the big rocking chair on the porch. The Spanish Milled Dollar pressed on his leg from deep inside the pocket of his jeans. He would put that away too, once he got home. For now, he was reluctant to leave the treasures anywhere.

The gold coins were locked in the hotel safe. Standing Bear had agreed to act as their agent, and was looking for the right buyer. He was certain there would be plenty of college money for both boys.

The door banged, and he looked up to see the Hummer. She leaned against the porch railing and gazed at the woods.

"Did Daniel desert you again to further his education?"

"Final class for the summer."

"Guess you'll be leaving soon. Have your parents found a place?"

"An old house with lots of rooms. Mom says there's a park nearby."

"So what are you going to do with all the money?" He looked at her surprised. "You know, from working in the snack shop." The crinkle around her eyes was back.

Jason wondered how she always seemed to know everything. He said, "Daniel and I are putting our summer earnings toward college."

"Good plan. Are you coming back next year? You make a mean bagel."

He laughed. "Bradley offered us a summer internship at the museum. Paid for by the university."

"Moving up in the world. That's good." She tilted her head back and watched the wispy clouds. Her hair moved in the soft breeze like the ruffled feathers of a sparrow. "Looks like a good day for a walk in the woods."

That's how this whole adventure started he thought.

"I think you're right," he said. "Maybe I'll do some exploring."

He got up, and she caught the arm of the chair before it banged against the wall.

"Keep your eyes open," she said. "You never know what you'll find. Might be something valuable."

At the bottom of the steps he looked back with a smile. "I think I've already found something valuable."

"Have you?" The crinkle deepened around her eyes as she smiled.

"Life is a Treasure," he said. He turned and headed for the woods.

