January 11, 2011

A band of outlaws rode to the gully marked on the map. They dismounted and tied their horses to scraggly bushes.

“This here’s the place, sure as shootin’,” said Alkali, tapping at the X on the map.

“Yep,” said Brodie, and he spat on the ground.

Butch Cavendish, the gang’s leader, strolled over and hunkered down beside the boulder matching the drawing next to the X on the map. “Does my heart good to know she weren’t lyin’ and will rest in Paradise ‘stead of sufferin’ damnation. Now, boys, start diggin’.”

Inside of an hour they had unearthed so vast a treasure as to make Aladdin green with envy.

“They’s too much too carry. I’ll guard it. You fellers go back and get a wagon,” said Cavendish.

“Why don’t you go back and get a wagon, and I’ll guard it,” said Stokes, the most cantankerous member of the gang.

An argument ensued, not one outlaw trusting another out of his sight. All of which goes to show that a good find is hard to man.

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