CHAPTER 1

“Tell us again Grandma about the treasure!”

“Well boys as you well know there is a story about a fortune buried on the old homestead.  Somewhere on those 25 acres of South Dakota prairie is a fabulous treasure.  It will be found someday I’m sure, but I can’t tell you any more than that.  It’s time for bed.  Go along now.  Good night grandsons, love you both.”

Grace watched as the two children wandered off to bed, but her mind was elsewhere.  Her thoughts were on a little black book she found amongst her mother’s things and a treasure that, up until that point had only been rumored.  Up until tonight.

Grace.  Her name was so appropriate.  She had grace and patience and always understanding beyond her years, but the years were now long gone, and Grace felt her age, felt life crumbling around her.  She was older now and tired.  But she had found something that renewed her interest in life, the little black book.

The book, more like a small binder was handmade, held together with leather straps, the outside cut from an old piece of material glued to a board.  But it was what was inside that mattered.  In it were handwritten notes from her grandmother, June.  “Mother must have kept this for years, never letting anyone know she had it.”  Grace mused as she opened it to the first page.

It read: “Whoever reads my little book and treasure is on your mind,

                  if you know just where to look, there treasure you will find.”

Grace sat in silence for a minute trying to remember the story that went around the town for years.  Grandma’ June was eccentric to say the least.  She lived in an unmodern trailer next to the farmhouse on the homestead.  She had no running water nor electricity and she seemed to wear the same dress made from flour sacks everyday of her life.  She was not a very big woman, but folks respected her or at least kept their distance. 

“But what was it about Grandma June’s treasure everyone in the small town of Murdo dared to whisper about?” 

Grace turned the yellowed page gently because it was very delicate from age.  Paper does that.  The next page was as perplexing as the first.  In Grandma’ June’s writing:

“Back on the farm is where you’ll find

a ton of silver dollars.

A pile of coins, a million or so

In some buckets in the “holler”.”

The other pages were blank, nothing written on them at all.

“Was this true?  Is there really a treasure hidden on the old farm?  And what did she mean by “holler”?”

And where had the treasure come from?  Was Grandma June ever that rich?”  So many questions, and so little time. 

Grace knew she had to find out and so began her quest.

Morning light filtered in through the window of the bedroom Nathan and Jacob shared.  The boys stretched, curled up again and fought getting up.  After all it was summer so there was no school and chores didn’t have to be done early. 

Reluctantly they headed to the kitchen to start their day when they both stopped and did a doubletake.  Grandma Grace was not only up but had three suitcases sitting on the couch, open, ready to be filled with clothes.

“What’s up Grandma?” said Nathan as he stepped into the living room, Jacob behind him.

Nathan was the oldest of the two boys.  At 10 years old he was quiet, reserved, thoughtful whereas his brother Jacob was rowdy, robust, and said whatever came to mind, many times speaking before he gave thought to how it might affect someone.  Jacob was 8 years old and if there was trouble around Grandma Grace knew who the instigator was.  They were totally opposite in stature and features too.  Nathan resembled his father, a man he never knew whereas Jacob was the spitting image of his mother, a woman not having been in the boys’ lives often.  Grandma Grace raised them both and it was to her that they owed their upbringing and wellbeing.

 

“What’s going on Grandma?  Are you going somewhere?”  Nate was puzzled.  This was not like her.

“Boys, we are all going somewhere.  I want you to get your things and pack your suitcase.  We’re going treasure hunting!”

After much thought as to what would be needed for a treasure hunt and what was most important (like

Swim trunks just in case and flip flops) the suitcases were packed and loaded in the van. 

“What about Sam?  We can’t leave him behind!”  Sam was the boys’ dog and best friend.  He was there whenever they needed a buddy, a cohort or someone to keep a secret.  Sam was a big, shaggy brown and white dog with floppy ears and droopy eyes.  He wasn’t very athletic as dogs go but he was protective of his humans and could be very impressive when he needed to be.

“He’s going too boys.  We’d never leave Sam behind.  Come on Sam.  Let’s go!”   Sam eagerly jumped into the back of the van and with that they turned down their street not knowing what lay ahead of them or what they were leaving behind.

The trip from Denver to Murdo was about eight and a half hours and going through parts of Wyoming was tedious but there was singing accompanied by Sam’s howling and Grace’s storytelling.

“You know boys I grew up in South Dakota.  I’m a prairie girl but I bet you didn’t know I lived on the farm with my grandparents.  We had no running water, no indoor bathroom, no heat in the winter other than the old pot-belly stove in the living room.  The worst part was using a chamber pot in the middle of the night that almost froze to your tush.”

“Grandma!!!  Stop, that’s too much information.”  Nate moaned while Jake hid his face in his hands.

 

They reached Murdo late in the evening having spent the entire day driving through parts of Colorado, Wyoming, and South Dakota.  The only motel was located along the highway next to a café, its sign lit up in garish colors proclaiming its veracity and the fact it allowed dogs.  The three checked in and found their room clean and orderly if not modest.  There were two beds and Grandma Grace took one, the two boys the other.  Being very tired, they fell asleep and by the time daylight came again, they woke having rested well.  Sam needed to make a “pit stop” so the boys, after getting dressed took him out for a potty break.

When they returned, they found Grace looking over the little black homemade book. 

“What’s that all about Grandma?” asked Nathan.  He could see the intensity in her face.

“Let’s get some breakfast and I’ll explain it to you both.”  And with that they headed next door to the café and stepped into another world.

The café was classic 50’s style, tables with checkered cloths on them, several booths, and a counter.  There was one waitress and a cook in the kitchen of which there was smoke billowing from the grill.  The waitress came over to take their order.

“What’s up folks?  You need a menu?”  Grace was afraid to answer her because she stood like a prize fighter ready to swing.  Obviously unhappy with her lot in life.

“No, we’ll just have eggs, bacon and toast.” 

“And what kind of toast?  How you want your eggs?”

Wheat toast, scrambled eggs.  And, oh yes, orange juice for the boys and I’ll have a cup of coffee with cream.”

With that the waitress sauntered off.  Nothing else was mentioned, either by the boys or Grace.

Sitting in one of the booths were four men, big, burly, and obviously just having come in from the field.  This was farm country and except for a morning coffee break, these men worked hard.  One of them kept looking their way.  What was it that made him so intent on watching the three of them?  It made Grace nervous.  He said something to his companions and got up and walked over to the table.  Now Grace was very nervous.

“Hey lady, do I know you?  You look real familiar.  Where you from?”

“Uh, we aren’t from here, but I lived here as a child.  My grandparents had a farm just outside of town.  Do I know you?”

“Who were your grandparents?”  The man wasn’t about to reveal any information about himself, not at this point.

Grace was now getting a bit angry.  This stranger was intruding and in a big way.  Breakfast had arrived but Grace didn’t feel compelled to touch her food while this man stood over their table.

“I’m sorry but I must ask you to leave.  We are just here to eat breakfast and do a little exploring.”

The man pulled up a chair and sat at their table without being invited!  Now Grace and the boys were angry.

“My name is Eldon, Eldon Johnson.  Does that name ring a bell?”

It sure did!  Grace’s maiden name was Johnson! 

“Are you my cousin?”  she asked incredulously.

“I’m your cousin on your daddy’s side.  I thought you looked like a Johnson.  So, who are you and what brings you here?”

Could she trust a man she’d forgotten about from a childhood long gone?  She didn’t know him, but she was sure he knew about the treasure or the promise of the treasure.  She had to be careful.

“I’m Grace, Fred’s granddaughter. I want to show my grandkids the old homestead before it gets torn down or blown away.” 

“So, you want to see the old place huh?  Wouldn’t be that crazy story about the treasure now,

would it?” Eldon looked Grace square in the face which made her blush!  Dang, that was always a problem for her.    

“Eldon, I’m not sure I know what you are talking about.”  But the look she gave him gave her away and

the smirk on his face gave him away.  He stood up to go back to his friends but said, “We’ll see all of ya’ again, I’m sure.”  And left.  That made Grace really nervous.