Chapter 04

Fred reached into the statue, pulled out the manilla envelope, and—surprisingly—handed it to me. The outside of the envelope was blank. Fred and Daphne crowded around, shining their phone flashlights as I opened it.

The first thing that I pulled out was an old copy of a much older hand-written document. I read it aloud.

Articles of a Treaty made at Fort Riley the ninth day of January in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and eighty nine between Reginald Coolsville, Governor of the Territory of the United States of America north west of the River Crystal, and the Sachems and Warriors of the Wahasapee Nation.

And whereas it is agreed between the United States of America and the said Wahasapee Nation that a Boundary Line should be fixed between the Lands of the said Wahasapee Nation and the Territory of the said United States, which Boundary Line is as follows viz. Beginning at a marked point sixty miles north of the mouth of a River named by the Indians Chonahay, and by us Weston, from thence in a direction due north for a distance of twenty-four miles to a point at the crest of the mountain range named Lemaho by the Indians and by us Lonesome Ledge, from thence twenty miles due east to a marked point, from thence twenty-four miles due south to a marked point, and from thence twenty miles west to the Point of Beginning.

The Wahasapee Nation shall and does yield to the United States all claim to the country outside of these boundaries, and then they shall be secured in the possession of the Lands inside the boundary and all that can be seen within them for and on consideration of the Peace then granted to them, the Presents they then received, as well as in consideration of a Quantity of Goods, to the value of three thousand Dollars now delivered to them by the said Reginald Coolsville.

Done at Fort Riley on the Crystal the day and year first above written. In witness whereof the Parties have hereunto interchangeably set their Hands and Seals.

It was followed by two pages of signatures and marks.

The second item that I pulled from the envelope was a quadrangle map of the area on which had been drawn three things:

A twenty-four-mile by twenty-mile rectangle with its southeastern corner touching the Weston River. This was obviously the layout of the Wahasapee Reservation.

An 'X' which was labeled 'Adit'. This 'X' was just outside of the reservation and next to Gold City.

A series of dashed lines leading from the 'X' into the reservation.

Fred and Daphne seemed to enjoy crowding me and Fred reached over and pointed at the map. "The rectangle is obviously the Wahasapee Reservation and it shows that Gold City is just outside of it. But what do the other lines and marks mean?"

I could help with this. "An adit is a mining term for the entrance to a mine and the dashed lines leading out from it are underground tunnels of the mine itself."

Daphne leaned in closer, making my skin goosebump. I wished she wouldn't do that. "But that means that the people that built the mine, went under the Wahasapee land. They can't do that. Can they?"

Fred was now holding the treaty and reading it again. "I'm afraid they can. The treaty specifically states that the Wahasapee have possession of the lands inside the boundary and all that can be seen within them. The US Government only gave the Wahasapee surface rights and kept the mineral rights. With this treaty, they were free to sell the mineral rights to whoever wanted to buy them."

Daphne finished. "And they were bought by some mining company and the Native Americans were exploited again."

"Well, their land sure was."

Fred took the map back from me and pointed at the upper right-hand corner. "Maybe these numbers mean something. Left ten. Right seven. Left four. Right twenty-three."

This one seemed obvious. "It sounds like the combination of a safe."

Daphne chimed in. "But what safe? Where?"

I could do nothing but shrug.

The third item I pulled out was relatively new. It was a real estate document. I read through it and it was an offer to buy Big Ben's entire tourist operation including the mine. The offer was made by the Wahasapee Tribal Nation and it was marked as 'rejected by owner'.

Daphne asked the key question. "But what does any of this have to do with the Miner Forty-Niner?"

That was my cue. "I'm beginning to get an inkling of a theory which puts the mine at the center of everything. I think we take Hank's recommendation and tour the mine for ourselves tomorrow. But first, we might want to see if Big Ben is available for a chat."

"Wait," Shaggy was pretty straight by now, "Your plan is for us to go into the mine that is not only haunted by an old miner but is also making everyone sick."

"I believe that's where the clues are."

"Relma is rothing if rot 'redictable."

Shaggy was resigned. "But when I'm puking my guts out, you have to hold me hair."

I nodded. "We'll take turns."

We returned the treaty, the map, and the real estate offer to the statue and set it back where it had first been. A close inspection would reveal disturbed dust but we could just hope that no one looked that closely.

When we returned to the hotel, we found Big Ben still behind them counter.

We had rehearsed the interrogation on the walk back and Daphne took lead. "Big Ben, how long have you owned Gold City?"

"My great-grandfather bought the mine from the previous owner around 1930. The gold had already -petered out and almost no one was left here. But Riley was a boom town then and only about a four-hour drive. With some lobbying to the Governor, the roads between here and the city were improved and then cars improved and it became a ninety-minute drive. That was enough to make this quite a success in its day. But now, since this Flu outbreak, the tourist trade was just beginning to pick back up when people starting getting sick and now it's looking like I can't make ends meet unless I find an alternate financial source."

"What might that be?"

Big Ben put on a wry smile. "If you figure one out, let me know."

"Have you thought of selling?"

"I've thought of it but it would have to be for the right price and no one has offered that yet." He ended the conversation. "You kids have a nice night now. Hank tells me you're going through the cave tomorrow morning. Remember that you won't have any cell reception at all, so stick together."

I suddenly realized that I was very tired from the long day and falling asleep seemed like a great idea. But Daphne had other ideas. When we got to the room, she wanted to talk.

"I'm having some troubles with Fred."

"Weren't you always having troubles with Fred?"

"Yes, but, at first, they were I-don't-care problems and now they might be turning into I-care problems."

Words. Again, not my friend. "You're losing me."

"Well, at first, I didn't like Fred and so the fact that he's a jerk didn't bother me. But now I kind of like him and so it matters."

Was this girl talk? I couldn't think of anything I could possibly be worse at than girl talk. "If he's a jerk, then why do you like him?"

"I don't know. Things don't always make sense."

"They should. Life should be logical."

"Logic is subjective."

Did Daphne Blake the airhead just say that? Maybe it was time for me to reconsider my stereotypes.

"You have a point there. Can you just tell him to stop being a jerk?" This was how little I knew about men at the time. Which is about as much as I know now.

"You mean without 'playing the game'? Just talk to him?"

"Unless you can think of something better."

"It's a novel approach. I may have to ponder it."

And with that, she rolled over in her bed and my first foray into girl talk was over. I seemed to have survived unscathed. I wish I could say the same thing about the trip into the mine the next day.