I was sitting on the porch enjoying the morning when the strangest spectacle crossed my line of sight. I shook my head, hoping that the vision would go away, but no, it was still there: a tiny wooden wagon drawn by eight squirrels in string harness. My adolescent cat Gordo was seated on the wagon bench, brandishing a whip and meowing what appeared to be “gee” and “haw” followed by a string of muleskinner’s curses.
“SYLVIA!” I hollered.
“Yes, boss?” she said, emerging from her house with tail high and wagging.
“Tell me I’m having a nightmare and that isn’t Gordo on a wagon.”
“That’s Gordo alright. He’s heading up-canyon to pick up the gold.”
“What gold? Where is he going? Where did he get the wagon? And how in blazes did he harness those squirrels?”
“To answer your questions in order, the gold is from the Lost Adams Diggings.”
“That gold’s been lost a long time,” I said.
“Since about 1864. That’s before even you were born.”
I glared at her, gritting my teeth. “That’s right. What makes you think the Lost Adams Diggings gold is here?”
“I read about it in the Mountain Mail. The article said there’s ‘a secret canyon full of gold nuggets.’ It also says it’s ‘a zig-zag canyon opening into a grassy park-like meadow.’ And I said to myself, ‘Where have I seen a canyon like that?’ Right here, that’s where. Remember, I told you it was here past the pond. RingWorm, Gordo and I have been digging all week.”
“Did you find it?” I couldn’t help asking.
“We found where we think it is, and we should have results very soon. But if it’s not where we think it is, it’s got to be here, right in this house. The gold was buried in the fireplace of a log cabin. That could be our house. We’ll just take apart the fireplace and –“
“I don’t think so,” I said with great haste and much fervor. ”It couldn’t be here. This house wasn’t built until 1929.”
“Oh, well,” said Sylvia. “Back to Plan ‘A.’ We’ll hit paydirt pretty soon. That’s why we’re getting a wagon up there in place to haul the gold away.”
“Good foresight,” I said with a touch of sarcasm.
“Brandy got the idea to build a wagon, but she said she wouldn’t pull it as she said she ‘was not nor never had been a wagon horse.’ She was very adamant about it. You might almost say stubborn.”
“That didn’t seem to stop you.”
Sylvia pulled herself up to her full height, saying, “I am nothing if not determined. So we built a wagon. Brandy did help us by kicking some wood loose from her barn, and RingWorm, Gordo and I nailed it together. Harnessing the squirrels wasn’t easy, but Gordo took them under the house to view the decaying body of the squirrel he did away with. That’s the smell you’ve been complaining about. Anyway, that convinced the squirrels that servitude was preferable to death.”
“Well,” I said, knowing that was hardly sufficient considering the circumstances, but it was all I could manage.
Sylvia took a long slurp out of her water bowl.
“How much gold is there?” I asked when my thoughts finally sorted themselves out.
“I’m not sure,” Sylvia admitted, “but there’s probably more than one wagonload, bearing in mind that it’s a small wagon.”
“Supposing you do find the gold, what are you going to do with it?”
“The first thing is to buy two new screen doors so I won’t have to listen to you yell at me for breaking them.”
“Good.”
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